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#bucky+barnes+x+peggy+carter
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You know what I love about this scene?
Peggy and Steve BOTH look at Bucky like “sooo, can we have some privacy??”
And this little shit looks over his shoulder to see what they’re looking at, turns back, and proceeds to do everything in his power to prevent their flirting while staying professional. He knows he’s not supposed to be there, but this -frankly amazing- woman is this close to winning over his boy and like hell will James Buchanan Barnes take it lying down.
His audacity just kills me and I love it.
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mostlymarvelsstuff · 3 months
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Reader receives their nudes accidentally
Summary: Through various means each hero ends up sending you their nudes without meaning to (Not interconnected. Meaning each is its own lil multiverse where R gets the nudes of their crush/crushes, whomever it may be)
Authors note: I was originally going to post all of these in 1 post, but I ended up not doing that so ya'll didn't have to scroll on down through them all if you just wanted to read for one character.
Warnings: light angst(just anxiety really), nude pics, implied future smut i guess?
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Natasha
Wanda
Yelena
Carol
Bucky
Peggy
WandaNat
BuckyNat
PeggyNat
CarolNat
How They React To Masterlist Marvel Masterlist
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pararave · 27 days
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one lucky guy from Brooklyn
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beep-cares · 4 months
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still think ab the fact they made steve go marry a nazi apologist and probably fuck up some sort of time stuff ALL because they didnt want the public to ship him with the man he has done everything for and is very obviously in love with (who is based off a gay jew)
They made STEVE ROGERS marry a NAZI APOLOGIST instead of a man based off a GAY JEW
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captainsophiestark · 16 days
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Hypocrite
Bucky Barnes x Reader
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Masterlist - Join My Taglist!
Requested by @flowers-and-fichte! Hope you enjoy, Novalis, and thanks for the request!
Fandom: Marvel
Summary: Bucky's gotten close with Peggy's best friend, the two bonding over the reckless mavericks they both chose to care so much about. But Steve and Peggy aren't the only couple dancing around each other in this war.
Word Count: 1,396
Category: Fluff, Humor
A/N: I can't believe this is my first time writing for Bucky, lol. Most of the rest of the fandom has been here since Winter Soldier, but better late than never I guess!
Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.
I shook my head as I barely managed to put one foot in front of the other, heading through the front door of my favorite dive bar. The Howling Commandos and I had spent many a night here, toasting success or planning our next move, but tonight I was without the rest of my group.
Peggy Carter was going to well and truly kill me, and I needed a night to process that.
She'd been my best friend for just about as long as I could remember; we'd joined SOE together, and somehow managed to end up on General Philips' staff, two of the only women getting as close to combat as we did. We made an excellent team, and normally, I had no complaints. But sometimes she could just be so reckless, flying head first into insane danger, that my heart needed a break lest it burst on the spot.
Tonight had been no exception. Peggy and Steve Rogers, the one and only Captain America, had worked together on a Commandos mission just across enemy lines. We'd been successful, and the two of them together had made an incredible difference in the war effort, but damned if I didn't also rue the day they'd met.
I slumped into a stool at the bar, barely registering my surroundings until someone slid a glass of my favorite drink in front of me. I frowned at it, then turned to my left to see who exactly it had come from.
Sargeant Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers' best friend, stared back at me with a faint smile on his face. He looked almost as tired as I felt.
"You look like you could use this," he said. I huffed.
"Thanks. How'd you know what I liked?"
He just shrugged, his eyes never once leaving mine as I took a drink, the corner of his mouth gently tugging up.
"I usually pay attention to the drink orders of pretty girls."
I snorted so hard a bit of my drink came out of my nose. It burned like hell, so it took me a few moments to recover myself enough to meet Bucky's gaze again. He'd leaned forward a bit, one eyebrow raised, looking a bit concerned.
"You alright there, sweetheart?"
"Yeah, fine. Just wasn't expecting you to hit on me, especially with that lame ass pickup line."
"Lame?" Bucky asked, a hand flying to his heart in mock-outrage. "That hurts."
I just rolled my eyes. "Knock it off, Barnes. We've quite literally been through hell together, I think we're a little past you trying to get my number in a bar."
"Well then how would you suggest I get your number?"
I paused, drink halfway to my lips again, and cut my eyes towards Bucky to let him know how truly ridiculous I thought the question was.
"You already have my number. It's the same one for Peggy and all the Commandos, as long as we're all stationed at the same camp."
Bucky just stared at me for a long moment. I sipped my drink and set it back down on the bar before he finally spoke again.
"Shit."
"Yeah. Nice try though."
Bucky huffed a laugh and took a sip of his own drink, then turned back to me with renewed energy and a bright, charming smile. I held up a hand before he could launch into whatever he was planning to say next.
"Okay Buck, why don't you just tell me what this is about. Because I came in here exausted after dealing with our best friends, and I don't have the energy to coach your rusty ass on how to flirt, if that's what you're trying to practice."
Bucky cleared his throat, deflating a little, but not all the way. He sighed, then set his shoulders and met my stare again with a determined expression.
"Actually, I'm trying to ask you on a date."
I laughed, until I realized Bucky wasn't laughing.
"Wait, are you serious?"
"Very. Although you're really testing my resolve, since you've now laughed in my face twice. You know I used to be good at this before the war?"
I shook my head, a disbelieving smile subconsciously forcing its way onto my face.
"Bucky... I'm not saying no, but... I mean, why? Why me, why now? We've known each other and been working on missions since Steve got you out of that prison... what changed to make you think this was a good idea all of a sudden?"
He sighed heavily, the muscles in his jaw working as he apparently forced the words to come.
"I've been feeling like I wanted to ask you out since I saw you, honestly. But we were going to have to work together, and I think it's pretty clear I'm a little rusty. So I waited, and I was just starting to convince myself to wait all the way to the end of the war, until I tried to get Steve to ask Peggy on a date."
My eyebrows shot up. "You did? How did that go? Those two have been dancing around each other for way too long, I've been trying to tell Peggy the same thing-"
"Well, maybe between the two of us we can actually get them to take the leap. But I realized when I was talking to Steve that I can't expect him to take my advice when I won't take it myself. I'm turning into the biggest hypocrite in the world encouraging him to talk to Peggy while chickening out on talking to you. So... here we are."
"Here we are..." I repeated, my voice a little faint as the full weight of Bucky's confession sank in. He had feelings for me, and apparently had for a while now. And now he was asking me on a date, the fact that we were in the middle of a war be damned.
I grinned.
"Is that a good sign? That looks like a good sign, but now I'm not sure..."
"It's a great sign, Bucky," I said, meeting his eyes and feeling a spark of excitement in my chest. "I'm glad you decided to take your own advice."
"So that's a yes?"
"That's absolutely a yes." Bucky's shoulders finally relaxed, a smile appearing on his face to match my own. "So... when do we do this? Do we call tonight our first date? We're out together, the two of us, at a bar..."
"No. No way," Bucky quickly decided. I raised an eyebrow at him, so he continued. "Tonight's not a date, sweetheart. Even in the middle of a war, I can find a way to make our night on the town something special. A little magical, and definitely just about the two of us. Tonight might be just the two of us, but it's about the two reckless idiots we call friends."
I laughed, then reached for my drink and raised it towards Bucky.
"I'll toast to that. To taking tonight to cope with the people we care about, and putting something on the books for a real night out together soon."
"Hear hear."
Bucky and I shared a smile, then each took a drink. I finished mine off, then sat back in my chair and stared at the man before me.
"So... how do you feel about a game of darts? Person who's not throwing is allowed to distract the other person, but only by relating the most insane shit our friends have done lately. True stories only."
"Bring it on. I've known Steve long enough that nothing's gonna surprise me anymore."
I snorted as the two of us grabbed another round of drinks and headed for the dartboard at the back of the bar.
"Look, Peggy might've gone through a phase of trying to be a proper lady, but she's been making up for it by doing even more ridiculous nonsense lately. Your boy's got nothing on her."
"I guess we'll just have to see about that, won't we?"
Bucky and I shared another smile. The routine was familiar, but now, there was an extra spark attached that hadn't really been there before. Even though tonight wasn't a date, spending time with Bucky felt a little different, now, in a very good way.
Maybe this could be the silver lining I held on to the next time Peggy tried to kill me via heart attack, until the end of the war and beyond.
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Everything Taglist: @rosecentury @kmc1989
Marvel Taglist: @valkyriepirate @songbirdcannabe @infinetlyforgotten @coinsublime
If your name is crossed out, Tumblr wouldn't let me tag you for some reason
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wintereyed · 4 months
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Oh, dear diary, I met a boy
He made my doll heart light up with joy
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whore-for-chris-evans · 3 months
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I don't know what you expected but I am still not done talking about the infamous fifth episode of the What If...? show.
Spoiler warnings ahead.
Throughout the episode, while trying to pull Steve out of the mind control, Peggy keeps repeating "Steve, this isn't you, wake up" an abnormal amount of times. It's actually sickening how lacking the scriptwriting is, at least for her character.
Bucky interacts with Steve for barely a minute and even then, his efforts to get Steve back display a wider vocabulary than Peggy's throughout the whole episode.
Furthermore, I'd like to break down and compare Steve's words to Bucky and CATWS, and Peggy's words to Steve in What If...?
Steve: "I'm not gonna fight you," and here he drops the shield into the river below, "you're my friend."
Moments later, as Bucky nearly punches him to death, saying "YOU'RE! MY! MISSION!", Steve's calm, collected response is "then finish it, cause I'm with you till the end of the line."
Yes, tear-jerking, we know. Let's move on.
Peggy, having gone up against Steve in a huge (around the same size as the armour Tony built in the cave) metal suit, made of plutonium or something, and still standing straight up, says:
"I don't want to fight you, I can't fight you anymore. I'm done fighting, I've been fighting for so long, to end the war, to forget what I lost...I'm tired. Steve, I want to be with you. I want you, even if this is the end."
Keeping aside the frustrating repetition of the word "fight" in just a few lines of Peggy's speech, let's look at the motivation behind both the dialogues.
Peggy talks about herself. About how she is tired of the war and of losing people, how she tries to forget how Steve isn't in her life anymore, about how she wants to be with him. Her entire purpose is not to save him, but to save him for herself. Her actions come from a selfish point of view, and by the time she says this, she is far from being as battered and bruised as MCU Steve. In fact, she gets away with just a couple of bruises at the most.
On the other hand, Steve's intention was to free Bucky from Hydra's torture, to protect his childhood best friend and lover. He had been shot multiple times, stabbed at least once, had his skin split open in several areas when he dropped the final bombshell. Steve was nearly dying while he was saying all that; yes he would've loved a second chance at life with Bucky by his side, but it was never his primary focus.
His primary focus was making sure Bucky had a second chance at life, even if he himself died trying. It was as if to say "I may die right here right now, but I love you too much to hurt you any further than I already have. You've always been more dear to me than life itself, so if your mission is truly to kill me, you know I'll support you in it even as you're taking my last breath out of me. All I ask for is your safety and well-being."
And it shows in the consequences too - in CATWS, Bucky not only regains just enough of his memories to stop, but also pulls Steve out of the Potomac before he can drown to death and places him somewhere he knows Sam and Nat and the others will easily spot him.
On the contrary, Hydra Stomper Steve barely shows any affection, shock or remorse towards the woman in front of him, but instead, he flies up to the Red Room and destroys it. It is unclear whether he survives the crash himself.
Like I said before, despite Marvel trying their absolute hardest to push StevePeggy as the superior pairing, they still end up portraying Steve and Bucky's (I say romantic, because Steggy mirroring Stucky proves the latter to be a romance) bond to be far stronger than that of Steve with a woman he only knew for a couple of years at most during a world war.
They dug their own grave and cannot crawl their way out of it. Stucky prevails.
@buckymilf @mainly-marvel @oneofstarkskids @jjmaybanksgun @averageambivert
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thatsashitplan · 21 days
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he may be your husband who time-traveled to be with you, but do you have an entire section dedicated to your relationship in his exhibit in the Smithsonian museum?
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Hi, again. 👋
I found the post you were talking about. The stan's account was deactivated, but yeesh. 😬 Nice replies to them, btw.
The stan that bashed on me said I was being misogynistic, even though I'm a black woman who just wanted to see another black character get their chance to shine.
Hell, it's not just the shows and movies (I think this all started with Endgame). It's also the Steve Rogers musical too. I don't know if you know about it, but Disney made the musical real, and it really did Sam and Bucky dirty.
Sam isn't even in it. Maybe he was mentioned once, but the musical showed an image of Sam as Captain America. As for Bucky, his scene from CA:TFA, where he saved pre-serum Steve, was given to Peggy instead. Bucky was mentioned once, and the musical tried to justify Steve's ending from Endgame. All for this ship.
And, frankly, I don't hate Peggy, I'm just more annoyed that other characters get shoved aside as well as this great dynamic that Steve and Bucky had, while she and her ship with Steve has been getting propped up more and more. But, seeing some of your and the others' posts, I get why you guys don't like her.
Girl, don’t get me started on the abomination that was Rogers the musical. It could have been glorious, it had so much potential, but once again Bucky’s role in Steve’s story was given to Peggy, and Sam wasn’t even there!
I feel like Marvel feels the need to tone down Stucky or their friendship overall because it was just too powerful. We all remember the hashtag that begged Marvel to make Stucky Canon, #givecaptainamericaaboyfriend. They just couldn’t let it happen, not to a main and important character like Steve, god forbid. And so ever since civil war Stucky has always had little to no scenes together no matter how well established it was in previous projects. All their scenes and dynamic were given to Peggy, their friendship was toned down, Steve’s whole ending happened. It just feels like Stucky is so menacing to Marvel that the only way to stop us is by destroying Steve, Bucky and their relationship.
I mean, Steve is given no justice in his ending and in all the other projects he appeared in. Bucky went from a victim and prisoner of war to someone who must make amends for things that were beyond his control. And the depth of their friendship was toned down and reduced every time Peggy was involved. And then they wonder why many people in the fandom dislike Peggy or why the whole Rogers the musical initiative flopped the second it went beyond Hawkeye.
Like, even if you don’t ship Stucky you can tell that they care for each other, and you can tell there was a shift after people actually wanted Marvel to take action and do something about this dynamic. Steve can’t get even one episode as his own character because Peggy must be there. Bucky had more luck, but still… and let’s not even talk about Sam, his only appearance was as a zombie!
In another post of mine I ranted about how bothered I was that Peggy was inserted in the 1602 storyline, and i haven’t changed my mind. It would have been so nice to give Steve one episode about himself, about his dynamic with his best friend and about the relationship with himself and his fellow avengers. But no, Peggy must be there too, and for no good reason as well.
I feel like Marvel trying to erase pre-existing relationships to have Peggy shine only results in fans turning their back on Marvel and hiding in fanfiction or whatever piece of media that can actually bring justice to the characters. Once someone on Tumblr said “you gave us the characters, but once you mess them up they’re not yours anymore. You don’t understand and respect them, therefore you don’t deserve them.” and I couldn’t agree more, which is why I am currently reading and writing fanfiction rather than buying into everything marvel gives us.
Peggy was the love interest with more screen time even before what if and all that jazz, she had her own show! And I fear that the day Marvel will realize that pushing a reimagined Nazi turned Mary Sue into every single what if episode where she can fit instead of enhancing the characters that are actually relevant in-universe it will be too late.
Sorry about the rant, I get carried away when it’s about my boys lol
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mrsbuckybarnes1917 · 11 months
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FINDING YOU Chapter 4
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Summary: You're in a relationship with Steve Rogers, but his best friend just always seems to be around!
Word Count: 4.1K
Warnings: angst
MASTERLIST
CHAPTER 4
The murky morning light barely permeated the drawn curtains as your eyes opened to your phone alarm. Steve's place was empty beside you, he had gone for his morning run and let you sleep in. You were glad, it had been a late night and you were struggling to get up as it was. The sound of wind and rain pounded on the glass and a chill crept through your spine as you eventually threw back the covers. You sighed, it looked like it was going to be a rather gloomy day.
Steve hadn't made it home before you needed to leave and Bucky was nowhere to be seen. A pang of loneliness stabbed your heart and you tried to shake off the ridiculous feeling. You had no reason to feel that way, you had a wonderful boyfriend who loved you and a secondhand best friend who continued to keep you at arm's length, but had a strangely comforting presence in your life. So you shook off the insecurities and set up the coffeepot for them to use when they got home. 
The morning seemed to plod along as a series of mundane lessons, the kids in your classes seemed just as apathetic as you felt that morning. So instead of micromanaging their activities, you let them run wild with their training. At least you had lunch with May to look forward to, her pragmatic approach to life would shake you out of the Monday slump you were in.
You were imagining just how she'd roll her eyes and glare at you until you had forgotten about your problems. Head in the clouds you almost ran face first into Agent May.
"Hey!" you smiled at your friend and colleague. 
"Come," she turned on her heel and marched off in the opposite direction from where you'd come.
You sighed. This wasn't going to be good.
"Where're we going?" you asked. "May?"
Melinda May ignored you, and kept walking. And like the good agent you were, you followed orders. She led you to her car and got in. 
"Are you going to tell me what's going on?" you asked, sliding into the passenger seat.
She started the ignition and pulled out of the car park.
"May, you're scaring me. What is going on?" You could feel your heart pounding in your chest, the anxiety bubbling up, just waiting to boil over as you demanded an answer. 
You studied May's impassive features,  watching her open and close her mouth a few times, trying to find the words. "There was an… incident."
"What kind of incident?" You felt exasperated by her lack of clarity. 
"We found a time jumper."
"Ooo…kay? And how exactly does this affect me?"
"It's Peggy Carter."
May's words rang in your ear like an exploded bomb. It felt like your whole world had slowed down, your heart sounded louder than you'd ever heard it, your mouth went dry and you couldn't focus on the road in front of you.
You hardly registered May calling your name or the short lived hand on your shoulder. The transference of your emotions from you made her withdraw sharply.
Thoughts whirled around your brain like a tornado. How did this happen? Why did it happen? Why was she here? Was there another end of the world catastrophe that needed to be dealt with? In the end, none of those questions mattered. You knew one thing was certain, you'd just lost the man you loved. 
You heard your name again.
"Yeah?" you turned to face May, eyes taking in your familiar surroundings. She had pulled up outside your apartment building. "Why are we here? 
"Peggy is asking for him," she said, softly.
"So you brought me here because…?" 
"I thought you should tell him."
You scoffed. "Gee, thanks. What do you expect me to do? Go and tell him that the love of his life is back and that he can have her?" You sounded slightly hysterical and tears had filled your eyes.
May's stoic expression remained unchanged, but her eyes betrayed her sympathy.
"I assume he is upstairs?"
"Yeah," you sighed.
Reluctantly you climbed out of the SUV and trudged up the stairs to your second floor apartment. You paused at the door, steeling yourself to the inevitable conversation once you'd entered. The key slid in and turned with ease and the door swung open without you even trying.
"Steve?"
"Ace? What're you doing home?"
You opened your mouth to answer but no sound came out. As soon as you told him everything would change, was it wrong of you to cling on to those last fleeting moments of happiness? You walked over to where Steve was washing dishes. 
The urge to break down and let him hold you was overwhelming. The blonde had the warmest, most comforting embrace and you wanted nothing more to be consoled by the one person who was about to break your heart.
"Ace?" Steve's look was concerned.
"Yeah?" You pushed back the tears.
"Everything OK?"
"Yeah." You made a show of taking off your jacket and putting it on a chair so you could hide your face. It was annoying how easily he could read your emotions.
"Give me a minute, I'm almost done with this."
You couldn't wait, you didn't want to. It was much easier to wrap your arms around his waist and bury your face between his shoulder blades. So you did just that. The heat he emanated, his strong steadfast sturdiness is what you clung to.
Steve dried his hands and wrapped his fingers around your wrists. Gently he pried your finger apart and turned around to face you. 
"Talk to me Ace, why are you home in the middle of the day?"
You shrugged, "I wanted to see you?"
"Now why don't I believe that?"
"OK, but I need you to do one thing before I tell you."
"Ace, what is it?" Concern was etched across his face.
"I just need one thing from you first."
"What do you want?"
"Kiss me," you whispered.
"What?" Steve was astounded by your request. 
"Kiss me, please?" You wished you didn't sound so desperate. 
He complied with your request, leaning down he placed a quick peck on your lips. 
"No, Steve. Kiss me like you mean it."
"I always mean it, Ace."
"Then show me."
Steve wanted to demand a reason for your behavior from you but he knew you could be just as stubborn as he was. It was easier to give you what you wanted. Not that it was a difficult request.
He bent forwards again, locking his lips with yours and you closed your eyes to take in every sensation, committing it to memory; the pressure, their texture, how soft they felt against yours. The eternity you wanted to be lost in was over in mere seconds. Steve’s hands lingered on your face, his thumbs caressed your cheeks for a little longer, leaving you with a gentle forehead kiss. 
“Ace?”
You held his hands to your face, hoping he would never let go.
“Hey, talk to me,” his voice was low, as though he was talking to a scared animal.
That’s how you felt, skittish and ready to run with the slightest movement. Instead you took a deep breath and broke away from the perfect bubble you’d wrapped yourself in. You took his hands from your face and led Steve to the couch.
“Let’s sit for a bit.”
Steve sat beside you, your knees touching, your hands wrapped around his. He watched you expectantly.
“Steve… you remember how you were able to time travel?”
Steve nodded and you heard yourself continue to speak, almost like you were watching someone else.
“Well that’s not the only method of time travel. We’ve had someone who has traveled here from the past. Someone you know.”
Steve frowned quizzically at you.
“Peggy.” Your voice was barely audible.
It was slow, but you could feel him pulling his hands from yours. Your doubts, your fears, your worries, every single one of them had been confirmed at that moment.
“Are you sure?” The hope in his voice felt like a knife through your heart.
“I don’t know,” you shrugged. “May told me.”
“Where is she?”
“S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters.”
Steve stood up, he looked like a deer in headlights, not knowing what to do next. He was looking at you but you knew he didn’t see you.
“Steve?”
“Yeah?” 
“May's waiting in the car.” You heard yourself say the words, all the while a voice inside you was telling you to shut the hell up. Instead you put a hand on his back and guided him to the front door. “Let’s go.”
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The car ride to the new S.H.I.E.L.D headquarters was deadly silent. It wasn't that you were a stranger to silence, you'd spent enough quiet time with both people in the car in the past, but today was different. May was driving, her grip on the steering wheel was more tense than usual and you knew her empath powers could sense both your emotions and Steve's. 
You cast your eyes across to the side mirror where you could see Steve's reflection in the back seat. He was staring out of his window and though his eyes were open, he looked like he was lost so far in his thoughts that you'd never find him again. Steve had always been a pensive soul and there had been many occasions where he'd float away to a place you couldn't follow.
What was he feeling? Steve had always kept his cards close to his chest but you'd thought he had let some of his guard down around you in the last year. But the man who sat behind you was much more like the closed off person you'd met all those months ago. You'd spent so much time peeling back the layers of thick skin, coaxing him out of the shell he'd built around him, only for the barriers to go back up in mere moments. 
You tried to put yourself in his shoes and exercise some of that empathy you were supposed to have. What would it be like to have someone you'd loved in the past come back to the present? Someone who had been ripped away from you, someone you'd never stopped loving. The feeling of tightness in your chest worsened. Empathy didn't feel like a helpful skill to utilize at this moment in time. You looked back at Steve in the mirror, wanting to wrap your arms around him and hold him closely until the anguish left his beautiful features.
This line of thought got you wondering about Peggy Carter. She was the founder of the organization you had worked for, she’d accomplished so many incredible things and had done so at a time where women got even less respect than they do in the present. You hated yourself for comparing your own achievements to that of another woman, but the overwhelming feeling of inadequacy was crushing. In your heart of hearts, you knew that your relationship was over but you were looking for a way for it all to hurt less. What chance did you have against the legendary Agent Carter?
Directing your resentment at Peggy would be the simplest solution, but the logical part of your brain strongly advocated her innocence. You wanted to hate her, the person you had held in such high regard, almost worshiped prior to this day. Did you dare fight for him? You’d heard the tales of their romance and you knew he still kept an old compass with her photograph in the cover. You’d found it once at the back of his sock drawer. How could you even compete? He had previously confessed that the only reason he had stayed with S.H.I.E.L.D. was because of her association with it. 
Did you know him as well as you thought you did? Steve was a man of few words, but what he lacked in language use, he often made up for with small acts of service. One of your favorite things that he would often do, without you even realizing when he had done it, was fill your car with gas. It was never empty! He’d make small sketches and leave them on your bedside table for you to find when you woke up, or would slip them in your bag for you to find at work. They were often accompanied by a quote or poem which warmed your heart and brought a smile to your face. It was often little things which made you happiest and to you it counted more than larger romantic gestures which were few and far between. He made you feel comfortable in a way that no one else had and you thought you were special to him. 
Sam had often regaled you with tales of their old exploits, saving Bucky from his HYDRA tormentors, the feud over the Sokovia Accords and so many others. You recalled a fond memory of you, Steve and Bucky visiting him in Delacroix, where you’d ended up spending most of your time helping him fix the family’s fishing boat and it almost made you smile. Steve gave his time often and freely to people he cared about. But he did the same for strangers too. He was willing to lay down his life for people he barely knew or had never met. Did that lessen his feelings for you? In the past you would have said no, but the crippling anxiety you sometimes felt was rearing its ugly head.
The emotions and thoughts swirled around inside you, threatening to erupt like a volcano, waiting to leave disaster in their wake. Just when you thought you couldn’t cope with sitting in the SUV any longer and May pulled up in front of your destination. Every movement you made after that felt like you were submerged under water, every step you craved oxygen, but wave after wave pushed you further down. You tried to claw your way to the surface, but you were met with paralyzing resistance, your anguish weighing you down like an anchor, suffocating your very essence. You watched the events unfold through the lenses of frosted glass; entering the building, watching Peggy run towards him, the way he wrapped his arms around her. He didn’t look away, he didn’t look back.
It was excruciating and yet you watched. You watched until you couldn’t. Then you waited. What if he needed you?
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At the end of the day, May took your arm and guided you out of the facility. She didn’t drive you home, instead she drove to her house. You’d often suggested that the two of you should live together after you’d left S.H.I.E.L.D. but May had vetoed the idea with a look of pure disgust. But if you’d never moved into your apartment, you’d never have met Steve. 
“Do you need help?” you asked. Standing nervously at the breakfast bar watching May move around the kitchen.
“Yeah, make dinner.” She handed you a knife and you standing alone in the kitchen.
One skill that May had never mastered was the art of cooking. You were happy to start slicing and dicing vegetables, trying not to let the knife accidently take off your finger tip as you vehemently attacked the innocent onions. You’d reached the stage of throwing food into hot oil when May returned, with a ridiculously large glass of your favorite wine. 
“Wine, really?”
“What were you expecting?”
“To be honest, a sparring session.”
“Easily arranged. But no physical contact, I’m not in the mood to deal with your emotions today.”
“That makes two of us.”
“You’d prefer I get drunk and you get high from that?”
“You remember that alcohol is a depressant, miss M.D?” she said dryly.
You glared at your friend before taking an unnecessarily large mouthful of wine. Even though May had little time for comforting others, she cared deeply for you, something you had once doubted. You were very grateful for her friendship and the support she was currently giving you. It was the small act of kindness which tipped you over the edge. Tears welled up in your eyes, spilling over drop by drop.
“What do you think he's going to do?” you whispered, your lip quivering dangerously.
“Does it matter what I think?”
“He isn’t going to stay with me.”
“He doesn’t deserve you.”
“You think Captain America isn’t good enough for me?” you asked skeptically.
“No.”
“Is anyone?”
May shrugged.
“But I want him,” you sniffled.
Even as the words left your mouth you felt pathetic and desperate. He had never stopped loving her. The voice in your head scolded you for ignoring the fact that you were the one he had settled with. It was your fault for wanting to be special. 
Your mind wandered back to the weekend you’d spent with Steve and the baseball game you’d taken him to. It was one of your best memories with him. The joy on his face throughout the game had warmed your heart. You didn’t know a thing about baseball, nor did you care to and it held not a single iota of interest for you. But just because you didn’t understand it or find it interesting, you understood why people could be passionate about a sport. That passion was one of the reasons you’d fell in love with Steve when you’d met him.
That was when you felt like Steve had really opened himself to you. It wasn’t the sex, it wasn’t the words he had used, it wasn’t the way he had said ‘I love you’. It had been the moment he had let himself be vulnerable with you. Steve didn’t talk about his fears to anyone, except maybe Bucky. He was a very reserved individual with strong morals and being given the mantle of Captain America had given him an even bigger reason to uphold an image of strength. It wasn’t an easy responsibility to shoulder and it clearly weighed on him a great deal. Everyone needs someone who they could share their burdens with.
Bucky Barnes was Steve’s best friend, they had a number of shared experiences, he would have been the natural choice to be Steve’s confidant. Except Steve now spent most of his time and energy taking care of the broken supersoldier. It made you feel special, to think that you were the one he had chosen to take care of him, to be his partner, to be worthy of his love. But now you had lost it all.
Dinner was a somber affair following which you curled up on May’s couch. Sleep didn’t come until the early hours of the morning when the tears finally stopped falling.
The coming days were spent hiding out at May’s. Steve tried to call you a number of times but you couldn’t bring yourself to face the situation. You knew you had to go home eventually and there was no way you could avoid him then.
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You felt instant regret as you entered your apartment late that night. Sleep deprived and physically exhausted after an intense day of training with May, you rushed into your home and fell into bed. It didn't take long for you to enter a deep slumber, dreaming of the life you could have had.
Morning came far sooner than you would have liked. You washed and dressed on autopilot, trying not to think of the different ways you might run into your beloved Captain. It happened much sooner than expected and liked. On your way out, you heard voices through the door. They sounded happy, full of laughter. 
Maybe if you waited, they would leave and you could escape undetected. After a few moments of silence, you peeked through the peephole, the coast looked clear. You pulled open the door and ventured out only to come face to face with the happy couple locked in a kiss.
There was nowhere to go. You'd already closed your front door, trying to unlock it would attract attention, so would any attempt to slip passed. You were well and truly trapped in a nightmare.
Peggy spotted you first. "Oh, hello. You must be our neighbor!"
"Ace," Steve said your name so softly, you wondered if you imagined it.
"It's nice to meet you," Peggy held out your hand.
The years of training allowed your body to respond appropriately while your brain felt like it had been put through a blender. You shook Peggy's hand politely.
"Nice to meet you, too."
Steve was looking at you like he'd been caught committing a crime.
"Hi," you felt compelled to fill the silence.
"I didn't know you were here."
"I got home pretty late last night."
"You two know each other?" Peggy interjected. 
Steve introduced you to Peggy. "She used to be a S.H.I.E.L.D agent. Now she is a teacher to some pretty special kids."
"Wow, everyone's part of the family here." She smiled at you warmly. 
"Ace, do you think we could have a chat, please?" His eyes were pleading silently.
He wanted to talk about your relationship, your former relationship. Did he want to do it in front of her?
"Maybe we could go for a walk later? After you're done at work?" he clarified.
"Yeah, after work. I should go there, to work, now." You nodded and pushed past them.
"Have a good day," Peggy called after you.
"Thank you," you answered without looking back, not wanting either of them to see your pain. 
There was bedlam when you arrived at the Academy. Two of your students had taken it upon themselves to practice their sparring while they waited. Needless to say you spent most of your morning mediating the animosity that had been created in your absence.
By the time you had scratched the surface of your lesson plan, it was 4pm and your students practically dismissed themselves.
"We're not done here! I'd better not come in to any more destruction tomorrow!" you yelled after them.
You received a cacophony of goodbyes with few assurances of peace. You loved your kids but they were exhausting! As you finished cleaning up and making progress notes, you noticed the time and the conversation from the morning came flooding back to you. It was probably time you headed home to face the music.
Steve was waiting for you outside the building. You spotted him before he saw you and you grabbed that moment to admire his physique and how much you missed how he held you.
“Ace!”
His voice broke through your reverie. “Steve,” you greeted him softly. “It’s nice to see you.”
You weren’t lying. It was wonderful to see him, regardless of the situation and what you knew was coming next. Neither of you seemed to know what to do next, the temptation was to fling yourselves into the other’s arms, but that was out of the question. And you could tell Steve was thinking the same.
“Can we go down to the park?”
“Sure.”
“Let me take that for you.” Steve took your bag from your arms, chivalrous to a fault.
You let him, you would have let him do anything in that moment. The walk down towards Prospect Park was tense, both of you felt like you were walking through a field of landmines.
“I spent the whole day trying to figure out what I wanted to say when I saw you. None of it sounds right now you’re actually here.” Steve finally spoke.
“I don’t know if there is anything to say, Steve.”
“The last thing I want to do is hurt you, Ace. I lo-"
"Don't." You reached up and put your fingers across his lips. It was a little more invasive a move than you'd intended but you couldn't bear hearing Steve tell you he loved you. Not after you'd seen him kissing the love of his life that morning.
"What do we do now?" he asked as you withdrew your fingers.
"Judging by Peggy's greeting this morning, I assume you haven't told her about our… the relationship we had."
Steve didn't answer but the shame on his face spoke volumes.
"Then the answer is simple. We're neighbors. Do you think we can do that?"
"Ace, I don't want to lose you."
"We don't always get what we want, Steve."
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I will die on this hill
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mostlymarvelsstuff · 3 months
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How They React To
Summary: for shorter (at least that's the idea lol) fics that have the same plot/prompt but show multiple character reactions/interactions
Authors note: not sure stuff like this will have any traction, but I felt like writing a few things like this
Warnings: Smut, angst, hurt/comfort, violence (these are broad as each will have their own specifics)
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Reader receiving their nudes accidentally
Reader getting injured on a mission
Marvel Masterlist
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barnes1031 · 4 months
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Natasha, Peggy, Steve and Bucky in a single episode together??? 😭 I love this!! Bucky was old, he hadn't noticed that he was the one. LOL
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kermitthesog · 5 months
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Captain America is a bisexual king. You can’t argue with me on that. Ain’t no way he’s straight and looks at Bucky like THAT. The only reason I don’t think he’s just plain GAY is because of Peggy. BRO TRIED FIVE TIMES TO GET INTO THE ARMY JUST BECAUSE HIS BOYFRIEND WAS GOING??? That’s a little fruity ngl. “I’m with you till the end of the line,” ok, gayass 🤨
IM JUST SAYING, FROM A QUEER PERSON, he’s not straight. He has a boyfriend. But he also has a girlfriend?? Idk- I’ll figure it out.
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beep-cares · 4 months
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what if steve and bucky kissed and punched peggy in her nazi-loving face. what about that huh marvel?
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swan-of-sunrise · 1 year
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Sunshine
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Summary: Steve pays a visit to the Smithsonian’s new exhibit honoring Captain America, and a little bit of sunshine unexpectedly breaks through his cloudy day.
Pairing: Steve Rogers X Reader
Word Count: 3.4k
Warning/Disclaimers: Disclaimer for a candid depiction of depression and its symptoms, and brief depictions of PTSD
A/N: I wanted to start this new one-shot collection off with a look into Steve’s POV, specifically when he meets (Y/N) in the Smithsonian. It was my favorite moment to write in The Winter Soldier and I had so much fun revisiting it from a new perspective! Thank you all so much for reading, and I hope that you enjoy!
Sunshine March 2014 Smithsonian National Air and Space Museum, Washington D.C. (Fanfiction Masterlist)
Although it had been over two years since he’d been discovered alive and frozen in time within the wrecked remnants of Schmidt’s plane, Steve Rogers still didn’t quite know what to do with himself. He had work, of course; completing missions on behalf of S.H.I.E.L.D. was familiar, reminiscent of his past and all the work he’d done alongside the SSR as the leader of the 107th tactical team throughout the war. But outside of work, he struggled to find ways to keep himself occupied. The notebook he filled with seventy years of various pop culture references kept him busy but as his understanding of the 21st century grew, so too did the disconnect he felt from the people and places that surrounded him.
So, on a beautiful spring afternoon that others were no doubt spending with their friends and family, Steve found himself sitting alone in the screening room of the Smithsonian Air and Space Museum’s ‘Captain America: A Living Legend and Symbol of Courage’ exhibit. The filmed testimonials of various men and women who’d been directly or indirectly impacted by his actions included an emotionally-charged interview of Peggy Carter from the early 1950’s, several years after the creation of S.H.I.E.L.D. and her promotion to its first Director. Her hairstyle was different and her brown eyes had the hardened look of someone who’d seen far too much pain in such a short span of time, but to Steve she looked exactly the same as she had when they’d fought through Schmidt’s mountain fortress together in 1945.
“That was a difficult winter. A blizzard had trapped half our battalion behind the German line. Steve…Captain Rogers, he fought his way through a Hydra blockade that had pinned our allies down for months.”
Steve remembered the battle, just as he remembered each and every battle before and after. His elevated body temperature and high metabolism kept him from feeling the chill of the blizzard that raged on as he fought, but nothing in the super-soldier serum could keep his body from going numb when he saw the frozen and broken bodies of hundreds of soldiers scattered amongst the snow. He squeezed his eyes shut to stop himself from visualizing the explosions ripping through Panzers and hearing the roaring gunfire ricocheting off his vibranium shield, and he took a deep breath before opening his eyes and refocusing on Peggy.
“He saved over a thousand men, including the man who would…who would become my husband, as it turned out. Even after he died, Steve was still changing my life.”
He looked down at the compass in his hands and studied the black-and-white photograph he’d clipped out of a newspaper back in ‘44. He was happy that Peggy had gotten to live a long and happy life surrounded by loved ones and he made sure to tell her every time he visited her in the nursing home, but he couldn’t help but envy her a little; she’d lived the life he’d always wanted back before he took the serum and became Captain America, but after all he’d seen and done since, he wasn’t even sure what sort of life he wanted to live. He was lost in an unfamiliar world filled with people who believed he should be grateful for a chance at a new life and who didn’t care to know how he truly felt about his situation. It didn’t take him very long to learn that only one thing remained constant after seventy years: the rest of the world only saw Captain America, the Star-Spangled-Man-With-A-Plan, and not Steven Grant Rogers, the kid from Brooklyn who hated bullies and who only wanted to do the right thing.
The video continued to play as Steve stood and exited the screening room, slipping his hands into his jacket’s pockets and bowing his head while he went. The rest of the exhibit was filled with tourists eagerly examining artifacts from his life before and during his time of service, and Steve felt a familiar twinge of discomfort at the sight; it’s like they don’t understand that they belonged to real people and not characters from a story, he thought to himself as he walked past a group of young adults snidely critiquing Dum Dum Dugan’s combat gear displayed on a mannequin along with the rest of the 107th tactical team. There were far fewer people near the display dedicated to Bucky, so Steve gravitated towards it and studied the old photograph of his best friend; he was smiling and there was still a sparkle of life in his eyes, eyes that hadn’t yet seen the brutality of war, the unspeakable horrors concocted by the Nazis and the gruesome torture inflicted on him by Hydra while he was a POW.
Steve’s memories of Bucky and that fateful mission in the Alps were suddenly interrupted when the young woman standing in front of him turned and collided with his chest, dropping her notebook onto the ground and scattering its loose papers across the floor; she immediately knelt and began gathering up the sheets and Steve winced at the accident he’d inadvertently caused. “Sorry! Here, let me help you with that.” He kneeled on the ground before her and assisted her. “I wasn’t paying attention, I’m sorry-”
“I’m the one who should say sorry, I was so wrapped up in writing that I didn’t see…” The young woman’s voice faltered when she looked up from their shared work and her (Y/E/C) eyes widened in recognition. “Steve?”
Steve’s own eyes widened as he finally recalled just where he’d seen the woman before. “(Y/N), right? From yesterday morning?”
(Y/N) nodded. “That’s me.” She took the papers and tucked them inside her well-worn notebook as they stood. “What brings you to the Smithsonian?”
He shrugged and took a moment to adjust the bill of his baseball cap while he thought up a suitable answer. “I had the day off, and I guess I just wanted to see what all the fuss was about. What about you?”
“Research,” She answered with a smile as she proudly brandished her notebook. “I’m writing a novel, so I was looking up information on Soviet Cold War-era missiles. Then when I finished with that, I thought I’d also see what all the fuss was about. I actually had another spark of writing inspiration before I smacked into you just now.”
Steve’s brows rose with interest. “You’re a writer? Have I heard of any of your work before?”
“Well, this novel I’m working on is actually my first.” They both stepped aside to let a group of schoolchildren read Bucky’s display. “I’m trying to become a historical fiction novelist, and I chose to write about the Cold War for my first novel.” Steve couldn’t help but admire the brightness in her smile and how the simple gesture illuminated her entire face, so much so that he nearly missed her question. “So, what do you think? Is everything here historically accurate?”
“Pretty much. What do you think of it?”
(Y/N) considered his question for a moment before answering. “I don’t know yet; on one hand, I think it’s great that an exhibit like this exists to educate people, especially children, about history, but part of me can’t stop thinking that it’s also an invasion of privacy.” Taken slightly aback by her reply, Steve frowned in confusion and watched as she gestured towards the many display cases surrounding them. “Like these, for example. These are private sketches of your family and friends that I’m sure you never meant for others to see. And over there, they have your underwear on display, for God’s sake!” A nearby middle-aged couple threw her a disapproving glare at her exclamation and Steve did his best to stifle his chuckle. “I don’t know, I think that they should show more respect when they create exhibits like this, especially if the person they’re about is still alive. You may be Captain America, but that doesn’t mean you don’t deserve a little privacy, too.” The earnestness and underlying indignation in her words of defense took him by surprise, and it wasn’t until her head tilted to the side in curiosity that he registered the small smile playing on his own lips. “What is it?”
“Nothing…you just sound a little different from most of the people I’ve met since coming out of the ice.” Steve looked over at his best friend’s display and awkwardly cleared his throat as he struggled to keep their conversation going. “It’s lucky that I ran into you, actually, I was gonna try and stop by the VA today but I have no idea what the address is.”
“Oh, I’ve got it right here!” She reached into her pocket for her cell phone and began tapping away. “Let me see, where did I-ah, found it! It’s 50 Irving Street Northwest. All you have to do is go down North Capitol-wait, it might be 6th Street instead…and of course, no signal in here…” A small line formed between her brows as she frowned. “Urgh, if I had my car with me, I’d just give you a ride since I’m going there later anyways but Sam took it to work this morning…”
“I could always give you a ride, if you want?” Steve blurted out, praying that he wouldn’t start blushing as she considered his abrupt but sincere offer. “It’d be no trouble at all.”
(Y/N)’s smile brightened her expression and she nodded. “Okay, then. I’m pretty much done here, so just let me know when you wanna leave.”
“Let’s go.” They walked out of the exhibit and Steve snuck a clandestine look at the writer walking beside him; she was undoubtably pretty, with strikingly intelligent (Y/E/C) eyes and lips that seemed perpetually ready to curve into a teasing smile, and just as he’d done the day before when they’d first met by the National Mall, he compared her to sunshine breaking through a cloudy sky. She was vivacious and so full of life – a shining example of a modern 21st century woman – but at the same time, something about the way she talked and carried herself reminded him of a different time. He’d gone on a couple of dates since coming out of the ice but up to that point, the only woman he felt comfortable being around was Natasha, his coworker and occasional mission partner at S.H.I.E.L.D.; with (Y/N), though, he felt unusually at ease and the only discomfort came from the shyness she brought out in him. C’mon, Rogers, there’s nothing scary about just talking to her, he scolded himself before swallowing thickly and speaking up. “So, how far along are you with your novel?”
“I’m actually almost done with it, thank God. Not that I don’t enjoy writing, of course, but some days it feels like I’ve been writing this thing for a decade.” (Y/N) hitched the strap of her messenger bag higher on her shoulder and flashed him a thankful smile as he held the museum’s front door open for her. “Today was my last day of research. All I need to do is finish writing the last few chapters and then I can send them to my publisher for final approval.”
Steve smiled at the enthusiasm he detected in her voice. “Have you already chosen a title?”
“It’s called For Queen and Country, but there’s a funny story about how that came to be. I originally titled it The Détente Paradox, because the novel chronicles how a female MI5 agent discovers a plot to infiltrate and destabilize peace talks between the United States and the U.S.S.R.; my publisher argued that even if American readers knew the English translation, they wouldn’t understand the story from the title alone-”
“The Relaxation Paradox; makes perfect sense to me.” Steve felt himself flush as (Y/N)’s brows rose in surprise. “I, um, speak a little French. Sorry, you were saying?”
She looked impressed as they made their way towards the museum’s parking lot. “The criticism got under my skin and I couldn’t think of anything else until one night, my publisher called me after binge-watching some classic James Bond movies with his wife. In a couple of them, James Bond sometimes says he does the things he does as a spy ‘for Queen and country,’ and-wait, do you know about James Bond?”
“Nope, but I’ll go ahead and add him to the list,” Steve replied as he pulled out his notebook and jotted down the fictional spy’s name.
“So anyway, my publisher convinced me to change the title to For Queen and Country. I’d hate to boost his ego, but it sounds a lot better than anything I thought of.”
Tucking the notebook back into his pocket, Steve scanned the parking lot for any potential threats while he remarked, “In my day, authors usually sent a completed novel to a publisher instead of sending it in separate parts. I guess that’s changed, too?”
“No, that hasn’t changed; this publishing company’s co-owned by one of my old friends from high school who also happens to be the only person I trust to edit my writing. My situation is a little unorthodox, though; to convince his publishing partner to give a first-time novelist like me a chance, he’s been giving him some of my short stories to read. His partner likes them so far, so as long as I keep sending in things that he enjoys he might agree to publish my novel once it’s finished.”
Steve hummed to himself, even more impressed by the writer walking beside him than he already was. “Sounds stressful.”
“Well, it’s not ideal but it makes balancing research and work a little easier, and I’m not about to quit now, not while I’m so close to being published.” (Y/N) shrugged and looked over at him with a kindly smile on her face. “But what about you? What’re you doing to keep busy these days?”
Hastily deciding that (Y/N) didn’t need to know how he spent his free time alternating between visits with his ninety-three year old first love and moping alone in his apartment, Steve replied, “I work for S.H.I.E.L.D. Whenever I have some free time I read the internet and go through my list to mark things off. I didn’t have much to do this morning, so I listened to some of the soundtrack from American Graffiti; it’s not what I’m used to, but I liked it. All the songs sound unique from one another.”
The writer’s eyes lit up when he mentioned her music recommendation, and he felt his heart stutter at the beautiful sight. “Right? My mom was born in the sixties so she grew up listening to that type of music. Whenever my brother and I had to help on chore day, she’d put on her old records so that we’d have something fun to listen to while we cleaned the house.” They walked through the parking lot and as they turned down an aisle, Steve subtly checked that they weren’t being followed while an unaware (Y/N) continued to talk. “Sam thinks that music from that era is too cheesy, but this is also the guy who thinks that Marvin Gaye’s better than Jimi Hendrix so what the hell does he know?” He stopped beside his motorcycle and she sucked in a quick breath. “Is this yours?”
“Yep, it’s a Harley-Davidson Street 750. The one back there in the exhibit’s a Harley, too, a modified ’42 WLA Liberator. I’ve always preferred motorcycles to cars, so it was nice to see that they haven’t changed too much over the-” The rest of his sentence died in his throat when he caught sight of the unreadable expression on (Y/N)’s face, and his heart instantly plummeted in his chest. “I’m sorry, I should’ve told you that I didn’t have a car. If you’re not comfortable with-”
“No, no, it’s okay, I’ve always wanted to ride a motorcycle!” (Y/N)’s exclamation took him by surprise, but he managed to return her excited smile with one of his own. “Do you have a spare helmet?” He pulled a helmet out of the bike’s back compartment and tossed his baseball cap into it, trying his best not to think about how cute she looked when she placed the helmet on her head. “Wait, what about yours?”
Steve flashed her a teasing grin. “Super-soldier, remember?” She rolled her eyes as he swung a leg over the bike and sat, giving the empty space behind him a pat before placing his hands back on the handlebars. “Hop on.” She followed his direction with less than perfect grace, doing her best to respect his personal space while also trying her hardest not to fall flat on her face, and Steve bit back a smile as he watched her progress in the rearview mirror. “I’ll be able to hear you over the engine noise, so feel free to give directions as we go. And make sure to hold on tight, okay?”
“Sir, yes, sir!”
Chuckling, Steve revved up the engine and backed out of the parking spot; the writer seated behind him predictably panicked at the sudden movement and involuntarily moved her hands from beneath her seat to rest on his waist, causing Steve to blush as he gently took hold of her hands and guided her to wrap her arms around his torso. If he weren’t a super-soldier with heightened abilities, he almost certainly would’ve crashed the motorcycle because of how distracted he found himself by (Y/N)’s presence. He could feel the warmth of her body through his jacket and smell the faint scent of her perfume as she clung onto him and on a wild impulse, he sped up and grinned when she shrieked in delight and tightened her hold on him. True to his word, he heard her give him directions amidst her laughter and much to his disappointment, they reached the VA in under fifteen minutes.
Steve parked the motorcycle in front of the building and switched off the engine before turning in his seat to look at his beaming passenger. “So, how was your first ever motorcycle ride?”
“Amazing!” She held onto his shoulders as she clambered off the bike and removed the helmet. “I might even have to trade in my baby for one!” Steve’s eyes widened at her remark, and she hastily shook her head. “No, no, that’s just my dumb nickname for my Volkswagen Bug! I don’t have an actual baby, of course, and if I did I certainly wouldn’t trade it…um, so yeah, no baby…and no guy, either, in case you were wondering. I’m single, single like a Pringle.” (Y/N) cringed at her own words and dropped her head in her hand to avoid eye-contact. “You can stop my dumb rambling anytime now, Steve…”
Steve’s grin widened. “Don’t worry, it’s not dumb. Entertaining, yeah, but definitely not dumb.”
The writer shot him a glare that would’ve intimidated him if it hadn’t looked so adorable on her. “You know, you’re a lot more of a pain in the ass than the history books make you out to be.”
Just as he was prepared to say something flirtatious, his cell phone chimed with a notification and when he looked to see what it was, his heart sank in his chest and reality came crashing back down on him.
Nurse Alia: Mrs. Carter’s been having a rough day. Might do her some good to see an old familiar face.
Steve tucked his cell phone back into his pocket and looked back up at a confused (Y/N) with an apologetic expression on his face. “I’m sorry but I’ve gotta go, something just came up. I’ll try and make it for the end of the meeting, though.”
“Okay, I’ll be sure to let Sam know!” Their fingers brushed as he took the helmet from her and stowed it away, and she gave him a half-hearted wave as he revved the engine and backed out of the parking spot. He returned her wave and sped off down the street, the image of (Y/N) standing by herself on the sidewalk with a befuddled expression on her face burned into his memory while he navigated the streets of D.C. to reach Peggy’s retirement home. But while he drove, he recalled the way his heart lurched when (Y/N) smiled at him, how lovely her laughter sounded as he gave her her first ride on a motorcycle and just how – for the briefest of moments – he hadn’t felt so alone and unseen. Like sunshine breaking through a cloudy sky, he thought to himself once again, resolving to see the writer who uncovered Steve Rogers from beneath the façade of Captain America again as soon as he could.
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A/N: This was my first time writing from Steve’s POV, so let me know how you liked it so I can decide if I wanna write from his POV in a future one-shot! Thank you all so much for reading and commenting, and I hope that you enjoyed it!
Spotify Playlist: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3ziGMhEsAw833GQ9eV44nR?si=6dfead09c76848d5
The Falcon and the Winter Soldier (Part I)
Stumblin’ In Book VII: “Superhero Snapshots” Masterlist
Stumblin’ In Book I: “The Winter Soldier” Masterlist
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