#okay hear me out tfatws edition

[tomoeakatsuki]

Okay hear me out, part 12 (or 2nd edition, part 1).

1st episode of TFATWS.

Because I'm rewatching it.

It's just... a very sad first episode. I mean, all the series have a heavy meaning behind Sam and Bucky's comedy. But the first episode is really heavy.

The first scene is Sam ironing a white shirt, wearing it with a dark jacket, and putting the shield in its case. Is he going to Steve's funeral? Most probably, because after, when he gives the shield to the government, he talks about Steve in past sentences.

Then, he's doing just a mission - actually, I don't understand the utility of that scene. To see how his life is going on after everything? And to introduce Torres? That's an idea. But, I find it a little out of context with the episode.

And after, he gives to shield to the museum - pay attention. He gives the shield to the museum, not to the government. Or better, the shield becomes a property of the government, but not a weapon. It's like an artistic object, that need to be preserved. He talks with Rhodey - that, totally out of contest, I know, but probably there's already a Skrull replacing him - who very gently let Sam know that he would have prefered if Sam had kept the shield and became the new Captain america.

Twenty minutes (more or less) after the start, it's Bucky turn.

It starts with a nightmare/flashback. A little cliché, but works with the story. It's a good excuse to introduce Christine Raynor, Bucky's psychologist - a good character, that I think helped a lot Bucky, and indirectly Sam, the only time they met - and show how Bucky it's coping with everything (bad, but not so bad).

Then there's Bucky as he appears to people: gentle, a little shy, trying to avoid any fight possible. No one could think that he's he was the Winter Soldier.

From that moment on, it's Sam's and Bucky's scenes alternating: Sam returing home to his sister and nephews; Bucky going on a date with the cute girl of the japanese restaurant; Sam and Sarah trying to get the money they should - but no because Sam is one of the many that returned from the Blip; and goes on like that.

Then, out of the blue, there's Torres in Switzerland, and a pretty good caos. with the Flag-smashers.

But the caos isn't even a part of what the government announces: there's a New Captain America.

All of this just to say that: 1. It's a good introduction to actually see how they're doing. Avengers: Endgame happened just six month before, and with all surely it wasn't simple - for anyone. 2. They don't try to make the atmosphere lighter, no. They say the things for how they are: messy, bad and caotic. 3. Bucky and Sam somehow recall the atmosphere of Captain America: The Winter Soldier. They can be shown as lighthearted characters, or as comical, but the truth is that neither of on is like that. It's more a the sarcasm is strong in this ones. That doesn't mean that their life is all ok. And well, if with Bucky is a pretty known things, with Sam usually is forgotten.

[buckets-and-trees]

Red, White & True: DC, Tampa, Athens [5/?]

Characters/Pairings: Steve Rogers x curvy Millennial Female!Reader, Peter Parker, Sam Wilson, Bucky Barnes Word Count: 6.1k Summary: Late September means things are only accelerating as election day grows closer. Steve is picking up momentum in the polls, and things heat up on multiple fronts before you hit a bump that may shake up the progress between you and your husband.

Content/Warnings: marriage of political convenience, slow burn

Notes: You get another West Wing cameo in this chapter (but totally unnecessary to have ever watched the show). This takes place in a post-Endgame scenario where Steve stays and generally most of TFATWS happened.

Previous Chapter | Series ↠ Main Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

[SEPTEMBER 26 - WASHINGTON, DC]

The late September sun streams through the floor-to-ceiling windows of the campaign's official DC headquarters, casting long shadows across the bustling office space. You're leaning against a desk, watching with amusement as Peter Parker, the youth outreach coordinator who's also become the campaign's unofficial creative director of the TikTok segment of the social media team, attempts to explain the concept for the video to Steve.

"Okay, Cap," Peter says, his enthusiasm palpable as he holds up his phone. "We're going to do a quick transition video. It's super easy, I promise!"

Steve stands in the middle of the room, looking slightly uncomfortable but determined. He's dressed casually in jeans and a plain white t-shirt, a stark contrast to his usual campaign attire. The goal is to remind the voters that Steve is relatable to the everyday American at the end of the day.

Steve nods, a mixture of bemusement and determination on his face. "Alright, Peter. Walk me through it."

Peter's face lights up. "Okay, so you're going to start in your casual clothes, then you'll spin around. As you spin, we'll cut and you'll change into your suit. When you finish the spin, you'll be in full Captain America mode, then we’ll have you spin and change one more time, and we’ll end the video with you in your presidential get up."

"And this will... resonate with young voters?" Steve asks, raising an eyebrow.

You can't help but chuckle. "It's about showing your versatility, Steve. From everyday guy to national hero to the next president in the blink of an eye."

Steve shoots you a playful glare. "Easy for you to say. You're not the one spinning like a top."

Peter positions Steve in front of the camera. "Okay, Cap. Just spin naturally, and we'll take care of the angles and editing.”

As Steve prepares for his first take, Bucky saunters into the room, a smirk playing on his lips. He sidles up next to you, crossing his arms as he watches his best friend awkwardly position himself in front of the camera.

"I'm sure Steve must be loving this," Bucky murmurs, his voice low enough that only you can hear.

You nod, suppressing a chuckle. "It's written all over his face."

Indeed, Steve's expression is a fascinating mix of determination and mild discomfort, his brow is furrowed in concentration.

The rapport that’s been developing with Bucky over the last few weeks has also been nice. It’s its own brand of friendship, and it’s not rock solid yet, but it’s growing.

"Alright, Cap," Peter calls out, phone at the ready. "On three. One... two... three!"

Steve begins to spin, his movements a bit stiff in the first take.

Peter's enthusiastic voice cuts through the air. "That was great, Cap! Let's try again,” he encourages, not leaving a beat for Steve to feel awkward or like he’s done it wrong. You can tell his approach will make all the difference with Steve.

As Steve prepares for another take, you can't help but admire his willingness to step out of his comfort zone. It's one of the things that's made him such an effective candidate - his ability to adapt and connect with people across generations.

"Okay, this time, try to relax a bit more," Peter suggests. "Just have fun with it!"

Steve spares a glance at you and Bucky, then takes a deep breath, shaking out his arms. "Right. Fun. I can do fun."

Bucky snorts beside you. "This ought to be good."

As Peter counts down again, Steve starts his spin. This time, his movements are smoother, more natural.

"Perfect!" Peter exclaims. "That's the one. Now, let's get you into your tac suit for the next part."

Steve nods, heading towards the makeshift changing area set up in the corner of the room. As he disappears behind the partition, Bucky leans in closer to you.

"You know, I never thought I'd see the day when Steve would be doing social media stunts," he says, his voice a mix of amusement and pride. "He's come a long way from the kid who could barely talk to girls in Brooklyn."

You smile, picturing a young Steve Rogers, all skinny limbs and earnest determination. "I bet he was endearing," you say.

Bucky chuckles. "Oh, he was. A real charmer. Couldn't string two words together around a pretty dame, but he had a heart of gold." He pauses, his expression growing more serious. "It's good to see him like this, you know? Engaged with the world, trying new things and connecting with people again. For a while after the Blip, I worried he’d ride off into the sunset forever before the sunset was even really here. We’re out of the century we were supposed to live in, but we’re still here, y’know? Didn’t think it would be this, but it’s not all bad. Pepper wasn’t wrong in choosing him for who he is inside.”

You nod, understanding. “When I met with her about the campaign, she’d sent me the policy materials, the plans, the opposition research detailing his strengths and weaknesses as a candidate, and I was on board to take any position she offered me on the campaign team. I never imagined working on a presidential run, but her vision, her approach? I knew I wanted to be part of it.”

Bucky arches an eyebrow. “I thought… wait…” he’s mulling over what you said. “So, when you came in, you didn’t know she wanted you to marry Steve?”

You laugh and shake your head, “Oh, no! Because that would have been crazy! Who would agree to that?”

Bucky's eyes widen slightly at your revelation. "But you just... agreed on the spot when she proposed it?"

You pause, considering how to respond. The truth is, it had been a whirlwind decision, one that you sometimes still can't believe you made. "Not exactly on the spot," you say carefully. "But...pretty quickly, yeah. It was a lot to take in, but something about it just felt right, you know?"

Bucky nods slowly, a thoughtful expression on his face. "I get it. Steve has that effect on people. Makes you want to follow him into any fight, even if it's not your own."

Before you can respond, Sam walks in, eyebrows raised at the scene before him. "How’re things going here? I hear we’re starting a dance troupe?"

Bucky chuckles. "Social media campaign. Apparently, the kids these days like watching people spin around and change clothes."

Sam shakes his head, a grin on his face. “Glad I’m not going to miss it.”

“I’m suggesting you go in as back up dancer.”

“Don’t threaten me with a good time, Barnes! You know I’d do it!”

You laugh at the easy banter between Steve’s two best friends, but then the man himself emerges from behind the partition, now clad in his tactical suit. The sight of him in the red, white, and blue outfit isn’t new, but as it’s the first time you’ve ever seen him dressed as Captain America in person, it unexpectedly takes your breath away a little.

Steve takes his position again, looking more at ease now in his familiar uniform. "How's this, Peter?" Steve calls out, adjusting the shield on his arm.

Peter gives him a thumbs up and starts the countdown. This time, Steve's spin is confident and fluid, ending with a slight smirk that's pure Captain America.

"Nailed it!" Peter cheers. "Okay, one more outfit change and we're done."

“Hang on!” Sam calls out. His eyes light up as he looks between you and Steve, a grin spreading across his face. "We've got a golden opportunity here."

You raise an eyebrow, curiosity piqued. "What do you mean?"

Sam rubs his hands together. "Picture this: Captain America, in full uniform, getting a kiss from his lovely wife. It's the perfect Instagram moment!"

Steve's eyes widen slightly, a faint blush creeping up his neck. "Sam, I don't think-"

"No, no, hear me out," Sam interrupts, warming to his theme. "We've been pushing the whole 'relatable Steve' angle, right? Well, what's more relatable than a guy getting a kiss from his wife? Plus, it ties in the Cap persona.”

Peter's face lights up at the suggestion. "Oh man, that's genius! The engagement would be off the charts!"

Steve looks slightly uncomfortable, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, and you don’t know how to feel about it either. "I don't know, guys. Isn't that a bit... much?"

Bucky chimes in, a smirk playing on his lips. "Come on, give the people what they want."

“Et tu, Brute?” you direct this to Bucky, not at all surprised at the enthusiasm from Sam and Peter, but genuinely shocked he’s jumping on board as well.

Sam turns to you, his expression a mix of excitement and mischief. "What do you say? Want to break the internet with a kiss from Captain America?"

You hesitate, feeling a mix of emotions. On one hand, the idea of kissing Steve - even for a staged photo - sends a flutter through your stomach. On the other, you're acutely aware of the artificiality of the situation and the potential implications for the campaign.

You glance at Steve. His expression is unreadable, but you can see a hint of uncertainty in his eyes.

Sam, sensing your hesitation, softens his approach. "Look, I know it might seem a bit much, but think about it. We've been working so hard to show Steve as both the hero and the everyday man. This could be a perfect blend of both."

Peter nods enthusiastically. "I think a good candid shot would be a great way to humanize the campaign. Show that even Captain America has a soft side."

You look back at Steve, and he gives a small nod. You see a mix of emotions in his eyes - uncertainty, but also a hint of something else. Trust, perhaps. "If you're okay with it, I am."

"I’m good," you agree, your heart rate picking up slightly.

Sam claps his hands together. "Great! Peter, get ready with that camera."

As Peter positions himself, you step closer to Steve. He reaches out, gently placing his hands on your waist. The tactical suit feels cool under your fingertips as you place a hand on his chest. You can feel the slight tension in his muscles.

"Ready?" Steve murmurs, his voice low enough that only you can hear.

You nod, managing a small smile. "Let’s do this," you reply once more because this is its own ‘public appearance’, and so the customary exchange only seems fitting.

Steve’s hands move from your waist around to your back, and he takes a deep breath, looking into your eyes.

You stop breathing for a moment, suspended there in his arms.

“Kiss her, punk!” Bucky shouts, and the electric moment is broken, but you both laugh, and then Steve dips you dramatically and kisses you soundly as you clutch his shoulders. The three men cheer enthusiastically and cat call you when the kiss goes on just another moment or two.

As Steve stands you back up, you both burst into laughter, the tension of the moment dissolving into genuine mirth and camaraderie. His arm is still around your waist, steadying you as you regain your balance. The warmth of his body radiates through the tactical suit, and you find yourself leaning into him slightly, your soft, round body pressing into his hard muscles.

"So, Peter," Steve calls out, his voice still tinged with amusement, "did we nail that shot, or do you need us to try again?" There's a playful glint in his eye as he says this, and you can't help but grin up at him.

Peter, looking slightly flustered but undeniably excited, nods enthusiastically. "Oh yeah, Cap! That was perfect! The internet is going to go crazy over this!"

You start to step away, ready to return to your spot by the desk, but Steve surprises you by gently pulling you back, his arm wrapping around your waist once more. The room seems to fall away as he gazes into your eyes, a softness in his expression that you've rarely seen before. Time slows as he leans in, his free hand coming up to cup your cheek.

His touch is feather-light, his calloused thumb brushing across your cheekbone with a tenderness that makes your breath catch. The scent of him envelops you - a mixture of leather from the suit, a hint of aftershave, and something uniquely Steve.

Your heart races as Steve leans in, his breath warm against your lips. For a moment, you forget about the cameras, the campaign, everything except the man in front of you.

Steve's lips brush yours, soft and tentative at first. It's different from the performative kiss moments ago - this feels real, intimate. You respond instinctively, your hands sliding up his chest to rest on his shoulders. The kiss deepens, and you feel a warmth spreading through your body.

Suddenly, you're jolted back to reality by the sound of a throat clearing loudly.

You and Steve break apart, both slightly breathless. The room crashes back into focus, and you're acutely aware of the others watching. Sam has a knowing smirk on his face. Peter looks like he might explode from excitement.

"Well," Sam says, breaking the silence. "I think we've got more than enough material for social media now."

You step back from Steve, feeling the heat creep up your neck. Steve clears his throat, looking slightly flustered himself.

"Right," he says, his voice a bit rough. "I should, uh, go change for the final spin shot."

As Steve disappears behind the partition again, you catch Bucky's eye. He gives you a subtle nod, his expression unreadable. You're not sure what to make of it, but there's no time to dwell on it as Peter starts setting up for the final shot.

You return to your spot by the desk and try compose yourself. Your lips still tingle from the kiss, and you can't shake the memory of Steve's touch.

Bucky sidles up next to you, his voice low as Sam and Peter talk next to you. "That was quite a show," he murmurs, a hint of amusement in his tone.

You glance at him, unsure how to respond. "It's all part of the job, right?" you say, aiming for nonchalance but not quite hitting the mark.

Bucky gives you a long look, then nods slowly. "Right. The job."

Before you can say anything else, Steve emerges from behind the partition, now dressed in one of his presidential suits - a sharp navy number that accentuates his broad shoulders. You can't help but admire how he carries himself. He exudes a quiet confidence, as ever, a perfect blend of the everyday man and the leader of the free world.

"Alright, Cap," Peter calls out, "let's nail this final spin!"

Steve takes his position, and as he begins to turn, you find yourself holding your breath. The transformation is mesmerizing - from casual Rogers to Captain America to Presidential Candidate, but all of them undeniably Steve.

[SEPTEMBER 27 - TAMPA, FLORIDA]

The campaign has rented out an entire floor of a hotel for debate prep, transforming the spacious suites into makeshift war rooms as Tampa provides some key and convenient access to key southern cities by plane. Maps, charts, and policy briefings cover every available surface, and the air hums with the energy of a team on a mission.

Jake Sullivan, Steve's chief strategist, has pulled out all the stops for this crucial phase of debate preparation. He's brought in Amy Gardner, a seasoned political operative known for her sharp wit and take-no-prisoners approach. Her presence adds an extra edge to the already intense atmosphere. You watch as Amy commands the room, even though she sits rather casually in an armchair ten feet from Steve, who stands behind a makeshift podium.

Her presence adds an extra edge to the already intense atmosphere. You watch as Amy paces the room, firing off rapid-fire questions at Steve, who stands behind a makeshift podium.

"What's your plan for addressing climate change?" Jake asks, his voice stern.

Steve responds confidently, "We need to transition to clean energy sources while also supporting workers in traditional energy sectors. My plan includes..."

Amy cuts him off, her tone brusque. "Too long. You've got 60 seconds max. Hit the key points and move on."

Steve nods, taking a deep breath. "Right. Clean energy transition. Support for affected workers. Immediate action on emissions reduction."

“Too succinct,” she says.

Steve frowns, clearly trying to find the right balance. Squaring his shoulders, he goes again. "Our climate plan has three key components: First, an aggressive transition to clean energy sources like wind and solar. Second, robust support and retraining for workers in affected industries. And third, immediate action to reduce emissions across all sectors. This isn't just about saving the planet - it's about creating jobs and securing America's energy independence for generations to come."

Amy nods approvingly. "Better. Now, pivot to how this contrasts with your opponent's stance."

Steve's brow furrows in concentration. "Unlike my Republican opponent, who continues to deny the reality of climate change, my plan acknowledges the crisis we face while also prioritizing American workers and innovation. We can't afford to stick our heads in the sand any longer."

"Decent," Amy says, her tone softening slightly.

“Only decent?”

“You didn’t address the Democrats’ policy. Your battle is to convince enough voters in America to break with over two hundred years of choosing between red or blue.”

You can see Steve is fighting back a sigh of frustration.

"Mr. Rogers, your opponent claims your lack of formal political experience makes you unqualified for the presidency. How do you respond?"

Steve takes a moment, his brow furrowed in concentration. "My experience may not be traditional, but it's been forged in the crucible of protecting this nation and its values. I've led teams through impossible situations, made tough decisions with global consequences, and always put the American people first. That's the kind of leadership experience that truly matters."

Amy nods, but doesn't let up. "Good, but tighten it up. You need to hit harder on your unique qualifications. How do you respond to critics who say your experience is outdated?"

"I'd say that my unique perspective allows me to see both where we've been and where we need to go," Steve begins, his voice steady. "I've seen this country at its best and its worst. I understand the challenges we face because I've lived through similar ones before. But I also understand the incredible potential of our future because I've seen how far we've come."

You can’t help but feel inspired by that answer, but Amy's eyes narrow, her expression sharpening. "Not bad, but you're still playing it too safe. Your opponents will come at you hard. Let's ramp this up."

She stands and begins pacing in front of Steve like a shark. "Mr. Rogers, your critics say you're nothing more than a science experiment gone right. How can you claim to represent the average American when you're literally superhuman?"

Steve's jaw tightens, a flicker of frustration crossing his face. "I may have enhanced abilities, but my values and my heart are as human as anyone's. I grew up in Brooklyn during the Great Depression. I know what it's like to struggle, to feel powerless. The serum didn't change that part of me."

Your heart swells, but again Any interjects again.

"Weak," she says, her voice cutting. "You're not connecting. Try again."

Your mouth drops open slightly. That was powerful. You know it was.

Steve takes a deep breath, his knuckles whitening as he grips the podium. “I’m not a monkey on a unicycle.”

“Well, what a great start. No one wants a monkey in the White House,” she deadpans.

“I don’t need this. We did just fine in the first debate without you,” Steve nearly growls.

“Oh, I didn’t know we were aiming for just fine, I thought you wanted to win.”

Steve's eyes flash with a mixture of anger and frustration. The tension in the room is palpable, like a rubber band stretched to its breaking point. You can see the muscles in his jaw working as he grinds his teeth, trying to maintain his composure.

"I'm not here to play games or put on a show," Steve says, his voice low and controlled, but with an undercurrent of steel. "I'm here because I believe in this country and what it can be. I've fought for it, bled for it, and yes, even died for it. So don't tell me I'm not connecting."

Amy opens her mouth to retort, but Steve cuts her off.

"I've seen this nation at its best and its worst," Steve goes again, his voice growing louder, more impassioned as he speaks. "I've watched it rise from the ashes of the Great Depression, triumph over fascism, and push the boundaries of human achievement. But I've also seen it torn apart by fear, prejudice, and greed."

His eyes blaze with an intensity that seems to electrify the air around him. The room falls silent, everyone transfixed by the raw emotion in his words.

"I may have been enhanced by science, but my heart, my values - they come from growing up as a scrawny kid in Brooklyn who couldn't stand by and watch bullies win. They come from the men and women I fought alongside, who gave their lives for the ideals this country stands for."

Steve's fist comes down on the podium with a resounding thud, causing several people to jump.

"I'm running for president not because I think I'm better than anyone else, but because I believe in the promise of America - a promise that's been broken too many times for too many people. I've seen what this country can do when we come together, when we fight for what's right. And I'm here to tell you, we can do it again."

Steve's voice rings out, filled with passion and conviction. The room is dead silent, everyone hanging on his every word.

"So no, I'm not a traditional politician. I don't have decades of experience playing political games or making backroom deals. What I have is a lifetime of standing up for what's right, of putting others before myself, of believing that we can always be better. I'm running because I believe in the power of ordinary people to do extraordinary things when given the chance."

He pauses, his chest heaving slightly as he looks around the room. The silence is deafening, everyone ensnared by the raw power of his words.

"That's what this campaign is about," he says, his voice softening but losing none of its intensity. "It's about reminding every American that they have the power to shape this nation's future. That their voice matters, their dreams matter, this country over politicians and political agendas. It’s not a show to me.”

Steve strides away from the podium and walks out, and no one stops him. No one even moves until the weighted door to the suite swings closed again. Jake and Elsa begin conferring. Amy seems unconcerned. You’re sitting with Bucky and Sam, who exchange a look, and Bucky moves to stand, but you’re quicker.

“Let me go after him,” you find yourself saying, surprised at how fast you were to seize this situation, almost like a natural instinct.

You hurry out of the room, scanning the hallway for any sign of Steve. You catch a glimpse of his broad shoulders disappearing around a corner and quicken your pace to catch up.

"Steve!" you call out, your voice echoing slightly in the empty corridor.

He stops, his back still to you, shoulders tense. As you approach, he turns slowly to face you. The fire in his eyes has dimmed, replaced by a weariness that tugs at your heart.

"Hey," you say softly, closing the distance between you. "That was... intense back there."

Steve runs a hand through his hair, letting out a long breath. "I shouldn't have lost my temper like that. It's just..." He trails off, shaking his head.

You reach out, placing a hand on his arm. "It's okay. Amy was pushing hard. Maybe too hard."

He looks down at your hand, then up to your face. “I’m fine.”

“I think you’ve told everyone you’re fine every day of your life, Steve Rogers, and no one needs to exist like that.”

Steve cocks his chin slightly. “But the President of the United States should have it together, shouldn’t they? People want a leader they can trust.”

You smile, but it’s not a happy smile, and his expression matches yours.

“Can I ask…?” you venture cautiously.

He nods. “Wife privileges. You can ask whatever you want. Wife duties, probably, to ask me questions I don’t want to hear.”

Wife. A flutter flares in your stomach, but you force yourself to concentrate on the moment, furiously tamping down your reaction.

He resumes walking down the hallway, but more slowly this time, and you fall into step with him as you pursue your curiosity. “A monkey on a unicycle is an oddly specific and highly uncommon comparison to bring up. Is that some reference from your time?”

Steve huffs and his eyes fill with a mix of nostalgia and resentment as he begins to speak. His voice is heavy with emotion as he remembers his past. “I used to sketch a lot when I was young. We didn't have much during the depression, but my ma always managed to scrimp and save enough to buy me a notebook for Christmas or my birthday. It stuck with me up through joining the Army.”

His expression turns somber as he continues, "And after the serum changed my body but I was put on tour to encourage people to buy bonds, it just felt...underwhelming. Discouraging. I knew I could be doing more, making a real difference. But I did what I could - I knew raising money still helped.”

You reach the end of the hallway and stand next to each other, looking out the window.

“When they sent us out to Europe to entertain the troops, it only got worse. The last day I performed, for the 107th regiment, I was heckled and booed off stage."

Steve's hands clench into fists at his sides, "I drew a silly picture of a monkey riding a unicycle; it felt like that's all I was worth to them - just another pawn in their production."

You want to reach for his hand, but it doesn’t seem like the moment. So you simply continue to listen.

“That ended up being the last day I performed a show. I found out part of the company had been captured, stuck behind enemy lines. I disobeyed direct orders, found the men, saved Bucky. After that, everything finally changed, and we got to go to work, doing good, fighting Nazis and Hydra.”

A slight smile tugs at Steve's lips as he finishes his story, "I never wanted to feel like that monkey again. But the closer we get to election day, the more this feels like just a production.”

You stay silent for a moment, mulling over the pieces of his past and the feelings he’s just shared. This isn’t an easy conversation, and it’s not the conversation you thought you would have coming out here, but you’re grateful the two of you are having it together.

You aren’t by any means a seasoned politician either, but you had seen and had to at some points play at politics in your own work. “It’s all a show, there’s no denying that. But you’re not the monkey unless you sit back and let that be the reality.”

“How do you figure that?”

You take a deep breath, gathering your thoughts before responding. "Steve, you knew from the beginning that this campaign would be a production. You agreed to it - all of it. Including," you gesture between the two of you, your voice softening, "this arrangement. Marrying a woman you'd never even met before."

Steve's eyes meet yours, a flicker of recognition passing through them. You continue, your voice gentle but firm.

"You didn't do all this just to be a figurehead or a puppet. You did it because you want to be president. You want to be the one steering the strategy, calling the shots, making real change." You pause, making sure he's really listening. "This campaign isn't just about winning an election. It's preparation for the presidency itself."

You turn to face him fully, your eyes never leaving his. "This campaign, as frustrating and exhausting as it can be, is its own kind of preparation for the presidency. Think about it - you're dealing with conflicting advice, responding to the platforms from the candidates and how they overlap and differ from your own, connecting directly with the people across the country, making tough calls on what is and is not a priority.”

Steve listens intently, his brow furrowed in concentration as he considers your words. You can see the wheels turning in his mind, processing this perspective.

"You're right," he says finally, his voice quiet but firm. "I did agree to all of this." He runs a hand through his hair, a habit you've noticed he has when he's deep in thought. "I just want it to mean something. To be more than just sound bites and photo ops."

You nod, understanding his frustration. "It does mean something, Steve. Every interaction you have, every speech you give, every policy you propose - it all matters. You're not just going through the motions. You're shaping the conversation, influencing people's thoughts and beliefs about what this country can be."

Steve's eyes meet yours, a mix of gratitude and something deeper there.

"She’s right, Rogers,” a voice behind you makes you both jump and turn.

“This isn't just about winning,” Amy emphasizes. “It's about learning how to navigate the complexities of leading a nation, finding your presence as the leader of the free world, as commander in chief, winning the trust of the American people.

“The debates, the press conferences, the tough decisions you'll have to make as president - they won't always be fair or comfortable. That’s why I pushed you. You won’t answer every debate question like that, but I needed to know you could go there. That’s the kind of president America wants, but they don’t know it until they see it. If you can shake them to their bones, you’ll change hearts and minds.”

Steve smiles at her half in kindness, half in disbelief. “You say all of that pretty casually.”

Amy shrugs and returns the smile. “Because it’s true. I’m done beating you up now that I know you can go the rounds. If you want me to leave, I will, but I’m game to stay if you’re game for slightly less intense verbal sparring.”

“Oh, I can do this all day.”

[SEPTEMBER 28 - ATHENS, GEORGIA]

The campaign plane hums with activity in the minutes before take off. This cabin is filled with members of the press corps, their laptops open and fingers poised over keyboards, eager for any morsel of information they can turn into their next headlines.

Steve looks almost relaxed. His tie is loosened and sleeves are rolled up to his elbows. The energy from the successful event you just wrapped up at the University of Georgia still lingers in the air. This was the fourth event of its kind - a town hall format called College Q&A limited to students and granting them access to dialogue with Steve. You can't help but feel a sense of pride as you recall how he connected with the students, his earnest answers and quick wit seeming to win over even the most skeptical audience members.

It’s become routine that Steve always takes questions from the press corps when he boards the plane before heading to the campaign team cabin, and he’s truly at ease with them in this interaction.

“We’ll take one more,” the campaign spokesperson announces to let both Steve and the reporters know it’s almost time for take off.

“Andy,” Steve calls on one of the familiar faces - the reporter from The Washington Post.

“Yes, Captain, do you have any response to Jeff Connor’s comments about your relationship with Mrs. Rogers?”

Steve's whole demeanor immediately turns serious, his jaw clenching. "I haven't heard Connor's specific comments, so I can't respond directly. My relationship with my wife is personal, and it's not up for debate or speculation."

He pauses, his eyes scanning the cabin before continuing. "What I will say is that she has been an incredible partner, both personally and for this campaign. Her intelligence, compassion, and dedication inspire me every day to be a better person and a better leader."

Steve's gaze softens a fraction as he glances in your direction. "I'm grateful she agreed to take this journey with me."

The press corps erupts with follow-up questions, but Jake holds up a hand. "That's all for now, folks, you know they won’t take off until we’re all seated and we don’t want to miss our take-off window. Thank you."

You, Steve, and the rest of your staff head into the first campaign cabin, and as soon as the door is shut, the atmosphere shifts. The professional masks slip away, replaced by a mix of concern, curiosity, and irritation. Jake immediately pulls out his phone, you assume to get the quote in question.

Elsa, your communications director, is already pulling out her laptop as she settles into a seat across from Steve. "That was the perfect response back there. Quick and heartfelt. It'll play well, especially given the context of Connor's comments."

Your personal aide Sophia is already handing you a tablet to read the quote. "Here, ma’am. It came out during the Q&A, and everyone got wind of it as we were boarding the plane."

You take the tablet, your eyes quickly scanning the headline: "Jeff Connor Speaks Out: 'I Hope They're Happy Together'" The article features a quote from Connor: "I wish them both the best. Marriage isn't easy, especially in the public eye. I just hope they've found happiness together."

You pass it over to Steve and then chew on your lip, pulling out your own phone.

It only takes him a moment to read as well. "Thanks,” Steve's brow furrows as he loosens his tie further and passes the tablet back to Sophia. “This seems fine, unless I’m missing something. But who is this guy, and why would we care what he thinks of our marriage more than anyone else?"

A beat of silence falls over the cabin. You can feel the weight of several pairs of eyes on you, a mixture of surprise and shock in their gazes.

“Okay, I’m clearly the only one who doesn’t know,” Steve concedes, a shade of irritation bleeding through his tone, “Anyone care to enlighten me?”

You take a steadying breath, then look up at Steve and say, “Jeff Connor is my former husband.”

next part: coming 11/29

I'll just say that I've been waiting for this chapter in the story almost from the beginning. 😌

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[hobis-hope94]

~ TFATWSATAP, 9 ~

The Falcon, The Winter Soldier and The Asgardian Princess.

AN: hiya fam. Only two parts left so I’ll post them tomorrow & Tuesday! I’m over editing the last few parts - as I always do!!

Summery: the battle between Bucky, Y/N, Sam and John Walker takes place, Bucky realises he can’t do this without his wife.

Part 8 here:

tfatwsatap 8

Paring: husband!dad!Bucky x wife!mum!Asgardian!F!Reader

Characters: Y/N Barnes, Bucky Barnes, Sam Wilson and John Walker.

Warning: crying, swearing, screaming, Y/N’s goddess powers, tiny TFATWS spoilers, canon violence from marvel and angst.

(gif not mine):

While you all got ready to tackle Walker, you took Bucky’s left hand.

“You’re okay,” you said quietly.

Bucky didn’t say anything, he didn’t even react to your hand in his. It hurt you. You sighed tearfully.

“Mama loves you baby. So does papa,” you said under your breath to your baby boy, just in case neither of you made it out alive.

The fight kicked in. It was long and hard. You grabbed the shield from Walker, he kicked your leg, causing you to scream out in pain, he kicked it so hard surely he’d broken it. Bucky ran to your side to save you from Walker’s grasp.

You grabbed the shield and threw it to Bucky, Bucky threw it to Sam, Sam didn’t catch it and Walker caught it instead. You saw Bucky shove Walker against the wall, you didn’t like the man you saw in front of you. He wasn’t the Bucky you knew and love, and that scared you.

You were so concerned that The Winter Soldier had crawled his way back into Bucky’s mind and it was scaring you.

Walker shoved Bucky off him and threw Bucky against the pillar, you screamed Bucky’s name as you saw an electric spike go through Bucky’s left arm. You wanted to run to him, but on your left you saw Sam struggle against Walker’s hold.

You felt an energy grow inside you, the very same one that would grow when you fought alongside Thor and Loki.

You felt yourself rise up from the ground, the noise of thunder and lightening made Walker turn around. Sam looked up to see you floating. He saw your eyes burning a bright silver colour, you weren’t you.

Bucky stood up to see you floating, as Bucky stood up, he spat out blood and that made you even stronger, you saw Bucky hurt.

Walker was going to pay.

While Walker was distracted by you, Bucky took that opportunity to grab the shield. He knelt in front of it, tired.

All of your power was somehow clashing with wherever Thor was, that was when you two were at your most powerful.

You screamed as a big clash of thunder went above you all. With all your power, you grabbed your hands together, and held them high, then directed all the thunder and lightening towards Walker, he got pushed off Sam as Sam ducked.

You still were floating above the ground as Walker looked up, terrified of you. You were more powerful, at that moment, than both Loki and Thor put together.

You had the power of Thor, the power of Loki and the power of Hela in one sitting.

Bucky grew scared, he saw you still floating he knew this power was too draining for you as you drifted over to Walker, who was cowering in the corner.

“No! Please! I’m sorry! I surrender!” Walker cried, holding his hands up as you stalked towards him.

“You hurt my family,” your voice deep and low.

“Y/N!” Bucky cried, seeing you too observed in your power broke him.

You couldn’t hear him as you got more thunder and lightening ready as you slowly lowered to the ground, now just powerful enough to hold it all in one hand.

“Y/N! Please. Come back to me,” Bucky cried, Sam couldn’t bare to see all of this happening.

“He needs to die,” you said, your voice low and deep.

“Y/N! I’m okay I promise!” Bucky cried, his heart racing. He knew with this much power, he could lose you.

“He hurt my family,” you repeated, the lightening in your hand growing as you got ready to throw it.

“Please Y/N. I can’t carry on if you’re not here. I need you. L…Lokes needs you,” Bucky cried, hearing your baby’s name made you stop.

The lightening reduced.

“You always say you and Loki would be lost without me, but the truth is, Y/N. Me and Loki would be lost without you. You’re the sole reason our family is strong and stays together. Your love for us is what makes me get up every morning. Your love for us …your love for us makes me want to be a better person for the sake of our boy,” Bucky cried, Sam looked at him, his heart wrenching.

You slowly lowered your hand, your eyes turned back to their normal beautiful colour. You turned around to see your husband looking scared and broken. You both needed each other.

“Buc…Bucky,” you sobbed, Bucky ran to you and engulfed you in the tightest hug ever.

“You’re okay,” he soothed.

After your hug, Bucky picked up the shield and threw it on the floor at Sam’s feet. Sam looked at him apologetically. You three walked out, leaving Walker cowering in the corner.

————

It had been about a week since the John Walker accident.

You were back in your all rather empty but cozy apartment. You had Loki on your chest, and cuddling up against Bucky. Bucky had both his arms protectively around his family. Your hands resting on Loki’s tiny back and Bucky gently had his hands resting on yours.

You three were just sat in silence. Grateful to be together again. Safe again.

“I didn’t like that feeling. I felt the power of Thor, Loki and even Hela. I hated it. I can’t …can’t imagine what it feels like for them,” you said slowly, your head resting on Bucky’s crook of his neck.

“I know. I …wasn’t there when it took over you and Thor at the Endgame battle, but I definitely felt it,” Bucky said gently, rubbing the back of your hands, kissing your temple.

“I’m sorry you had to see that,” you said tearfully, kissing Loki’s tiny head, he smiled in his sleep.

“I’m sorry you had to go through that,” Bucky said gently, holding you and Loki a little closer.

“I worry,” you said worriedly, Bucky twisted his head gently to look at you.

“About what?” He asked gently, stroking the back of your hands.

“About Loki. If I get so powerful like that …Loki’s half god half super soldier. it might be worse for him,” you said tearfully, bending your neck slightly to look at your baby boy who was sleeping peacefully on your chest, his tiny head moving up and down softly with each breath you took.

“Oh Y/N. I know. It’s scary, but we’ll be able to figure it out and we’ll be there for him when he needs us. We’ll know how to bring our boy back,” Bucky said gently.

“I’m just so scared,” you said tearfully, holding your baby closer.

“We’ve got this, I promise,” Bucky said gently, kissing the side of your head lovingly.

You three remained in each other’s loving grasp for a while. Then, Sam rang.

“Really?” Bucky sighed after answering the phone. “Alright. I’m on my way.” He sighed.

You looked at Bucky as he hung up the phone.

“Sam’s got a lead on Karli,” Bucky said, sighing, not wanting to move from your position.

“I’m coming with you,” you said, as Bucky carefully slipped from you, you carefully sat up not to wake Loki - he didn’t sleep at all the night before.

“No. No chance in hell,” Bucky said firmly, as he went to change.

“Please, baby. I don’t-“ you said tearfully.

“Please, Y/N,” Bucky said after peering his head around the door, shirtless.

“I-“ you stopped.

Bucky realised he was shirtless and how silent you go when he is, he smirked at you.

“I should take my shirt off more often to win arguments,” Bucky smirked, noticing you’d gone red.

“I wouldn’t actually mind that,” you said as Bucky laughed softly before heading back into the bedroom.

“I promise i won’t be long,” Bucky said, coming out of your room, zipping his jacket.

“Don’t die,” you said tearfully, looking at him.

“I won’t,” Bucky said gently, wiping a tear away from you. “You have my word.” He added.

He kissed you lovingly, then he gently put his flesh hand on Loki’s small back, and kissed Loki’s head gently, Loki did a little smile in his sleep, Bucky smiled too. He told Loki he loved him, kissed you one more time and Loki again, then got up and left.

You sat on the sofa, sighing heavily. You held your baby close to you, taking in his scent.

“We’re gonna see daddy when you wake up,” you said gently, looking at Loki.

You weren’t taking No for an answer.

[camistired]

stranger

scenario: trying to show Bucky that your there for him during tfatws, but he keeps ignoring you

a/n: i started writing this yesterday after watching the first episode of tfatws. if people like this, i might make this a whole ff following the show, so let me know if you like this. also please ignore any mistakes or if it’s wordy, i haven’t written anything in months. i am open to criticism!

edit: i didn’t realize i didn’t name until i was trying to add it to my masterlist, so please ignore the half-assed name, please and thankyou

reader has been left gender-neutral and has no specific race written

spoiler warning

It had been a few months since everyone started reappearing, yourself included. The last thing you remembered was waiting out the fight with Thanos with Shuri, and you remembered feeling lighter then usual and you watched as your friend turned to dust before your very eyes. However what felt like the same breathe, you watched as her being was rebuilt by the same dust the took her away.

It had been a lot to process, to know that you and others close to you had basically died, and came back to the same exact fight happening. It was worse to come back to know that one of your dearest friends was dead and she couldn’t be brought back like the lot of you. It sucked standing in-between Bucky and Sam at Tony’s funeral.

You had missed five years of life, and for what? For some giant purple pyscho titan to stop over population and then become a space rancher? In your eyes, it was complete and utter bullshit. But you can’t change the past.

With Steve’s retirement, Bucky’s pardon, and Sam still kicking ass and saving people as The Falcon, you felt lost. Everyone else has scattered around to handle everything by themselves. But you thrived off of others, that’s just how you worked. So, sitting lonely in your single bedroom Brooklyn apartment, you let out a loud sigh.

You stayed in New York, purely for Bucky’s sake. The man is a hundred and six, and is an ex-assassin, he doesn’t need your help. Especially since you can barely hold a gun without nearly pissing your pants. But you knew the man was basically alone. He spent his past ninety years being in and out of ice fighting, except when he had his moment of peace in Wakanda.

You’ve tried to reach out, called him every now and again, but it was always went to voicemail. You left so many voicemails, your surprised it isn’t full by now. But you’ll keep leaving them, no matter if he actually listens to them or if he just deletes them immediately. You hoped that they gave him some sort of comfort if he did ever listen to them.

You looked at the time, it was a quarter past eleven. You let out another sigh. Something you still haven’t been able to get down was your damn sleep schedule. Sometimes you stayed up until two - three in the morning and sleep into the afternoon, and that was on a good day. You tried to establish a routine, but it just  never worked. If you tried to go to bed earlier, you end up either staring at the ceiling till sunrise or waking up in the middle of the night, for no reason. You didn’t have to use the bathroom, you didn’t have a nightmare, you just woke up, and you couldn’t go back to sleep, no matter what you tried. You’ve expressed this to your brother, you suggests maybe you go see a therapist, maybe do a sleep study, but you just shut the ideas down. That was the last things you wanted to do, was be monitored.

However, you couldn’t do this anymore. You forced yourself out of bed and changed your clothes from your normal sweatpants and baggy t-shirt to leggings and a slightly less baggy shirt. If you couldn’t fall asleep naturally, might as well take a walk around the block and maybe take a melatonin tablet or two, see if that does anything.

Locking your door, you start walking down your hall when you see a man walk away from your neighbor’s, Yori Nakajima’s, door. You’ve known the old man for as long as you lived here. You’ve tried to help him out as much as he will let you, and even though he’ll never admit it, he appreciates the help. He tries to repay in small ways, he even offers you to join him and a younger friend of his for sushi down at Izzy, but you always turn him down. You helped to help, not get anything in return.

You walked up to Yori’s door but he closed it before you could reach his door. You sighed and instead decided to talk to the man walking away.

“Excuse me!” You called out, walking towards him. He seemed to tense up and walked a little faster but you touch his arm before he could go much farther.

“Sorry, I don’t mean to be rude, I just have a few question...”

He cursed under his breathe but he didn’t move. That’s when you noticed the way he held himself. His body language very much showed he was uncomfortable, and whether he was doing on purpose or subconsciously, he was leaning away from where your hand met his arm.

You moved your hand back down to your side but you walked in front of him and you froze when you saw his face.

“Bucky?!”

He seemed to shy into himself more when you recognized who he was, making you instantly felt bad. However, examining him he looked different. His hair was a big one, ever since you first met Bucky,  his hair was shoulder length. But he looked a lot cleaner with shorter hair, his loose curls a lot more prominent now. However, that  seemed to showcase the most change. It felt as if he went backwards more than anything.

His jacket, the gloves, the brooding energy radiating off of him. He felt like the man you met back when the whole “Civil War” mess was happening.

He softly addressed you, but he still never looked at you directly. It was concerning especially since you considered you two close. But maybe it was because you two haven’t talked properly? Maybe because he’s been ignoring your calls? Whatever the reason, you didn’t care. It made you feel better he was out talking to people, no matter that it was your older neighbor, he was interacting with people. It made you wonder if he had talk to Sam, but you doubted it.

“Long time no see, stranger. Glad to see your still alive.”

He looked at you with a blank expression, and you recognized that looked. He was looking for a tell, if you were angry at him or not. In all honesty, you couldn’t find it in yourself to be angry like he excepted you to be. You’re glad he was doing something, he didn’t have to be okay fully, just as long as he was going out.

“I’m not angry, Bucky.” You said flatly, as his eyes met yours. You could tell that he relaxed, physically. “I mean, concerned, sure. Scared you had locked yourself in your apartment, definitely. But not mad. Just... wished you would have called. Sent a text to let me know you were okay... Anything, really.”

He sighs, “I know... I should have done something- said something. I just have a lot going on.”

“Everyone does. Half of the population got turned into dust, we’ve lost a lot of friends. It’s just... we’ve gotta stay together, you know? We can’t rely on Steve anymore... And the more we’re by ourselves, the more we’re just creating terrible coping mechanisms, ya know?”

He seems to be taking in your words and you just smile at him softly. “Just think about it, okay?”

You begin walking down the hall before you turn towards him again, “Oi! And Barnes?”

He looks up at you, “Yeah?”

“If I don’t hear from you soon, just know I will hunt you down and beat your ass! No more of this distancing, stranger shit. I know how to find you now. And you know where I live!”

You smirk as you turn around to finally go on that walk, but little did you know that Bucky had a little smirk of his own as he took in your words.

“No more distancing, no more acting like a stranger... I have to start nurturing my friendships...”