Im looking for a fic where Steve like didn't know about the same sex marriage and then he was asked in an interview abt it then he ran out bc he had like rings made for him and bucky? Sorry that's all I could remember
The thing is, Tony quickly realised, there are certain things that SHIELD never told Captain America. Sometimes small things, sometimes big things. But things, nonetheless, that they thought he wasn’t quite ready to know.
When Steve finds out about one of those things during an interview - his reaction isn’t anything like anyone was expecting (except maybe Natasha, because she’s scary like that).
OR, how the world found out about Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes.
In all objective fairness, the last thing Tony should have done was laugh.
Everyone knows the fable of Captain America—the scrawny teenager with a heart of gold, who the serum transformed into the peak of male perfection—and Tony has been with Steve long enough to hear some of the details, usually in the dark of night when Steve is drenched in bad dreams and they lie side by side, holding hands and staring at the ceiling.
That’s the thing about living legends, the legend is usually a heroic distillation of a lot of pain. Steve’s told him about pain, which came with war and loss, with starvation and sickness, at the hands of bullies, in the pitying stares of strangers; in rejection.
“Big guys and dames and the recruiting office,” Steve said one time, from somewhere in that space between waking and dreaming. He held Tony in the crook of his arm like a favorite toy. “I remember so much laughing, but it didn’t feel funny.”
And it’s not funny when the time stone de-ages Steve into what have to be his late teens. It’s just that one moment, he was filling the Captain America uniform to bursting and in the next moment, the whole thing fell off his 4F-120-lbs-soaking-wet frame like so many dead leaves. Steve’s expression was utterly bewildered amid the pile of red, white, blue and leather.
the only thing I want more than ruthlessly snarky Sam/Bucky is Sam/T’Challa where Sam is really mad about how sexy T’Challa is, like, it just pisses him off, how dare he be this attractive, this is so annoying
“HAVE YOU SEEN HIS ABS,” Sam yells at Steve. “THIS ISN’T FAIR”
Buying a mattress was a challenge none of them had anticipated when it was finally decided they would move in together.
Crisscrossing through the rows of mattresses brightly lit under fluorescents, Steve’s excitement is evident. He flops down happily on the softest models, sprawling out and heaving a great, contented sigh. More reserved, Nancy sits on the edge, patting the material with her hand and laying down only when Steve begins tugging at the sleeve of her cardigan. They exchange worried, wordless glances with one another, noticing the pained expression on Jonathan’s face, as if he’d rather be anywhere else in the world.
“Check this one out, Byers.” Steve doesn’t carelessly throw himself down onto the next mattress. Instead, he joins Nancy in sitting on its edge, tapping the empty spot between them.
Hesitantly, Jonathan sets himself down, his knee brushing against Nancy’s as he sits.
She smiles at him, reassuring and soft in that way that is uniquely hers. “Is everything okay?”
They’ve long-since figured out that it’s best to be direct with Jonathan. Such an approach works much more quickly and generally averts the eye rolling Jonathan adopts as a defence mechanism.
“Is this weird for you?” Steve chimes in. Then, he lowers his voice, his brows furrowed, “Are you worried people are watching?”
Jonathan shrugs. “I don’t care what people think.”
“Then?” Nancy coaxes him to continue. This time Jonathan’s shrug isn’t accompanied by a response. He takes to staring at his toes instead.
How can he tell them that it doesn’t matter what he thinks about a mattress because of the sick, sure feeling that it won’t be his for very long? After fighting monsters and facing horrors, how can he admit to being afraid that he’s not good enough for them; that despite how good and perfect they are, they’ll one day resent him for impeding their happiness.
“Jonathan?” Nancy’s voice draws him from his thoughts again. “We love you. ”
“And if you need more time, that’s cool,” Steve chimes in, “We don’t have to do this now.”
“There’s some stuff that I need to work through,” Jonathan says quietly, grateful for their patience. He’s surprised at himself for even admitting as much out loud, but being with Steve makes him feel more confident and Nancy has always insisted on good communication, whether dealing with a monster or matters of the heart.
@tidalrace tagged me in a wip meme so I’m digging through my files to call myself out. The following snippets are the last few sentences written on various stories:
The She-Bear - fairy tale au Steve/Wanda
“I am not as brave and as quick of step as you, my brother,” Wanda said. She wiped the tears from her cheeks with the sleeve of her scarlet gown, and sat at the vanity table. She held her hand above a candle and with a twist of her fingers the wick burst into flame. “But I do have mother’s gift of magic.”
Just like Heaven AU Steve/Darcy
“You don’t remember,” Darcy says, clutching tight to the tiny potted succulent in her hands. The energy bubbling in her chest fizzling out into nothing.
“Should I?” Steve says, worry creasing his brow.
If I had the choice, I would stay- Steve/Wanda
You must try and do better then,” Wanda says brows arching up in challenge. “If you can.”
“Where I’m kissin’ you,” Steve says, voice dropping low. A flush warms Wanda’s face, her eyes fading out from red to near black with only a thin circle of green skirting the edge of her irises.
The dragon verse - scribbled notes only but I’m including it as I miss writing Idris.
“What’s your rat trying to do, Steve?” Bucky frowns lifting his prosthetic arm up in the air. Idris goes with it. Her body hanging like an unbalanced and frustrated fruit.
“I dunno, Buck. Arm’s awful shiny though,” Steve says, he shrugs and roots around behind the sofa cushions. Steve fingers brush against a ball and he drags it out. The ball chimes in his hand and he tosses it gently across the room.
Idris watches the ball hit the wall and roll under a chair. Her eyes narrow and she whips her tail up to grip Bucky’s arm. The dragonet’s front paws wrap around Bucky’s pinky finger. Idris clicks her tongue and folds her ears back along the line of her skull.
“Not gonna happen, rat,” Bucky says. He pushes at the little dragon with his right hand.
The dragonet growls in frustration, claws dragging along the shiny metal attached to Bucky. She nips at Bucky’s fingers, not hard enough to break the skin but enough to smart and startle a rusty laugh from Bucky’s throat. “Feisty little biter, aren’t you?”
Just finished reading chapter 13&14 of Distance. Brillant as always!! Damn that smut, girl! So hot. And I totally understand Steve, but can't help feeling that Tony is doing the right thing. I mean, he has a whole company to think about and has to talk with Pepper and work things out with the board and what-not. I'm curious to see Rhodey's reaction, though. Trrific writing! Kisses
Thanks for tagging me @xgrungeandroses! 💗 Basically you have to spell your URL with song titles! :D
G: Get Up & Jump - RHCP
I: I Want it That Way - Backstreet Boys
M: Me & U - Cassie
M: Mindwalk - Dot Hacker
E: Endors Toi - Tame Impala
A: All in the Family - The Revivalists
F: Famous Phone Figure - Allah-Las
R: Renegade - Styx
U: Used to Be - Beach House
B: Beautiful Disaster - 311
O: Oceans - Pearl Jam
O: Okay - Homeshake
T: Thangs - Steve Lacy
Y: Your Pussy’s Glued to a Building on Fire - John Frusciante
the ubiquitous umbrella (for the made up fic title)
At first, Steve doesn’t think anything of it. Why would he? He lives in Washington, and sometimes it rains. When it does, people carry umbrellas. There’s nothing at all unusual about it, so there’s no reason for him to pay any particularly attention to the people passing him on the street as they hurry along, hunched over in case any wily raindrops manage to get past their defences and slither down their coat collars.
But Steve’s a trained soldier, with senses enhanced by a serum that even now no one entirely understands. And he can’t shake the feeling that he keeps seeing the same umbrella. It’s always there, every time the sky clouds over and rain starts to fall, on the corner of whatever block he happens to be on, or across the street of whatever building he’s in. It always comes with the prickling feeling that he’s being watched, but when he tries to get a closer look - it’s gone.
He’s being paranoid, he tells himself. Ridiculous. Everything he’s been through is starting to get to him.
But the next time he gets that feeling he stops, searches the crowd for the red umbrella he knows will be there, and for just an instant beneath it he sees a familiar face, framed with brown curls, dark eyes filled with longing sadness. It’s only for an instant, though; she’s gone in the space of a heartbeat. And Steve’s left shaken to his very core, because he knows that Peggy’s dead.
But imagine what if diana lives some years, maybe hundreds or thousands years after present protecting the world, and then in a future year, she somehow meets this man, who looks like her first ever man, her first ever love, the one and only captain steve trevor,