For the prompt post: “i was hitchhiking and you picked me up and WHOOPS YOU’RE A FAMOUS ROCKSTAR” au OOOOOOR “i had a one night stand the night before i started a college class and WHOOPS I ACCIDENTALLY BANGED THE PROFESSOR” Please and thank you!!!!!!!!
“Just try,” Sam says, shoving Steve towards the bar.
“Sam!” Steve hisses, but it’s too late — he’s already bumped into the man he’s been ogling half the night.
The guy starts a little, dropping the book he’s been reading. “Sorry!” Steve manages.
“It’s alright,” the guy says, looking up. Then he looks up, obviously checking Steve out. “Hey,” he says, voice sounding a little lower than it did before.
Steve can’t help it; he blushes. “Hi, uh, you’re alone?” he asks, and he can hear Sam snicker behind him.
The guy smiles, sort of leans back on his bar stool. “Mmm-hmmm,” he says, and Steve can’t stop staring at his plump lips. “Why, you want a drink?”
“If you’re not busy,” Steve says, looking at the book, which he can see now is heavily-annotated.
The guy seems to trace Steve’s gaze and shuts the book. “Just over-preparing. First classes start tomorrow.”
Steve nods, chuckles. “Oh, I know,” he says. It’s pretty much all he’s thought about since he decided to put that GI Bill to good use.
“I’m Bucky,” he says, reaching out a hand.
Steve takes it. His grip is firm and… lingering.
“Steve,” he says.
Bucky smiles again. “I’ve got good drinks over at my place, if you’re—“
“Yes,” Steve says. “Let’s go.”
“Jesus,” Bucky says, rolling over the next morning. His hair is a goddamn mess, and Steve’s pretty proud to have made it that way.
Steve yawns, stretches. His nerves have dissipated somewhat, thanks to Bucky and his amazing hands.
“Mornin’,” Bucky says, looking over at Steve and smiling.
“Hi,” Steve says, unable to keep the dumb smile off his face.
They look at each other for a few moments, just soaking each other in. They hadn’t had much time for conversation last night, but Steve had fun. He can already tell that Bucky has a great sense of humor, and he’s obviously incredible in bed, and Steve really wants Bucky to ask him for his number.
Bucky sighs. “I hate to lose the view, but I gotta get ready for my class.”
“What time is it?” Steve asks.
“Quarter to eight,” Bucky says.
Steve nods. “Same.” He’ll have just enough time to get home, change, and get to class. Not enough time to worry about anything.
“You busy tonight?” Bucky asks, then ducks his head. “I know it’s a little overeager but I’d like to actually take you on a date.”
“I’m free,” Steve says. “Very free.”
Bucky looks back up and smiles. “Meet me here at seven?”
Steve nods. “Yeah,” he says. “I will.”
Maybe it was naive of Steve to think that he wouldn’t actually see Bucky again until that night.
“I can’t believe the front row was already taken when we got here,” says one young woman as she slips into the seat in front of Steve. They’re in a relatively small lecture hall, but it had also surprised Steve that the entire front row was taken, even despite him getting there ten minutes early.
The girl next to her sighs. “I know. The one class with a decent view and we’re stuck in the third row.”
“Jesus, Prof is dreamy. This is my fourth class with him and I’m not even a history major.”
The other girl laughs. “He’s why I’m a history major,” she says.
Steve wants to laugh, but keeps it to himself. Maybe he would be a little more excited about the prospect of a dreamy professor if he were a little younger, but he’s older now. More mature. Crushing on the professor seems like a cute thing to do when you’re young, though, and he can’t blame the women (or apparently the entire front row) for having a little fun.
He readies his computer and focuses on preparing a Word document. He doesn’t even notice that the professor entered the room until he’s standing at the podium and starting to speak.
In a very familiar voice.
“Welcome to the History of World War II. I’m Professor Barnes, your sergeant for the rest of the semester—“ While the rest of the class giggles Steve feels the blood drain from his face. “And I…” Professor Barnes — Bucky — looks up and locks eyes with Steve. “Steve?” he chokes out and the class all swivel their heads, trying to find whoever it is Steve is.
A/N: Thought of this after seeing Chris bantering with Octavia Spencer (who is just an amazing actress that I love so much) Enjoy!
You tried not to giggle as you stood behind your husband in the kitchen; you were wearing the Atlanta Falcons jersey Octavia Spencer- a close friend of Chris’ and yours- had sent over as an attempt to mess with him after their banter on Twitter about whose team was going to win at the Super Bowl. She had texted you about it the day before, and of course you were more than happy to mess with your husband; it was payback considering he made fun of your favorite TV show ‘Arrow’ because it was DC.
Now everyone knew what Chris was like when it came to football, Tom Brady, and The Patriots; passionate was an understatement, that boy was obsessed. His inner fan girl was so well known that every interview you had leading up to the Super Bowl involved that particular topic. You knew nothing about sports, but you knew a lot about how adorable your husband got when it came to his team. He was about as adorable as you were when you met your favorite superhero, Captain America at the Vanity Fair after party four years ago.
You tapped your socked foot on the hardwood floor as you waited for Chris- who was clearly too busy stocking the fridge with beer- to turn around. You sighed quietly then cleared your throat to catch his attention because at the rate he was going, he wasn’t going to notice you for another ten minutes and you had other things to attend to.
“Do you think I bought too-” He began as he turned around, cutting himself off when he saw what you were wearing. You pressed your lips together to suppress your smile which was forming at the sight of his facials. “How dare you?” He tried not to smile himself as he pretended to scold you, closing the fridge door behind him. “And in my house, Y/N?” He quizzed, trying to hide his amusement.
“Oh,” you scoffed and chuckled simultaneously; his lips quirked into a more visible smile. “All of a sudden this is your house?” You crossed your arms over your chest as he leaned back against the kitchen counter. “Didn’t you say what’s yours is mine, Evans?”
“Yeah, yours as in- Y/N Evans,” he retorted playfully. “I um-” he pointed at you then crossed his arms again, “I don’t know who you are 'cause my beautiful wife whose best quality is her loyalty would never betray me and my team like that.” You giggled and he bit back his smile, “that’s just disrespectful, really.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you shrugged with an innocent smile on your lips. “I’m just standing here doing nothing.” Chris scoffed as he lowered his gaze onto your jersey. “Oh, you’re talking about my shirt?” You looked down and pulled at the material. “I just put the first thing I saw in my closet, no biggie.”
“First of all,” he laughed as he pushed himself off the counter so he could make his way over to you. “That is a jersey. Secondly,” he gently pinched your chin between his fingers, “we have never, nor will we ever- have a Falcon jersey in this house.” You pressed your lips together, suppressing laughter. “Take it off before I do it for you, okay?” He released your chin and booped your nose before turning his back on you to return to the fridge.
“No,” you bit playfully; Chris stopped and smiled while his back was turned to you.
“I’m sorry,” he turned around, raising an eyebrow; the amusement in his tone audible. “What was that?” He challenged in a playful tone with his hands on his hips. You smirked, raising an eyebrow. “Take it off, that jersey has no place in this household.” He told you, trying not to laugh. “I mean it, Y/N.” He warned when you shook your head.
“What are you going to do, hm?” You challenged and he smirked, taking a step closer to you. “How are you going to make me take off the jersey of the most amazing team ever?” You said and his lips parted, feigning shock whilst hiding his amusement. “Yup, I said it. The Patriots suck compared to The Falcons,” you egged him on.
“You take that back,” he tried not to laugh as he pointed at you. As much as he loved his team, he loved you a lot more so you could say anything you wanted and nothing bad would happen; it also helped that he knew you were just joking. “Take it back and take that jersey off, or I’m going to throw you into the pool.”
“Yeah, right,” you laughed then immediately regretted it when you saw the playful gleam in your husband’s pretty blue eyes. “Chris, don’t you- No!” You shrieked with laughter and ran when he started for you. “Oh my God, no!” You ran for the stairs so you could hide in the safety of your bedroom but Chris caught you before you hit the first step. “Chris, no!” You laughed as he wrapped his arms around you from behind, lifting you off the ground.
“Do you want to take it back?” He whispered into your ear, his beard tickling your neck.
“Take your Patriots jersey back to the store because it’s a sucky team?” You quipped, giggling.
“You did not just say that,” he tickled your sides and you squirmed, laughing. “You’re so dead, Y/N. I hope you don’t have your phone in your pocket because I am tossing you into the pool.” Your laughter grew louder as he threw you over his shoulder. “You have about thirty seconds to take it back, unless you want to end up in the pool, of course.”
“I know you, Evans.” You giggled as you wrapped your arms around his waist. “You wouldn’t, so no- I’m not taking it back.” He shrugged and continued walking towards the pool in the backyard. “You’re all bark and no bite,” you poked his side and he chuckled.
“If you say so, Y/N.”
You giggled because you were so sure your husband was just joking, after all- it wasn’t the first time a play fight had ended with him threatening to throw you into the pool. He had never done it before and you doubt he’d start now. He usually walked out to the pool with you over his shoulder or in his arms bridal style, threaten to toss you in, almost toss/push you in only to pull you back into his arms to kiss you. It was the same every time, so you were sure you were safe this time too.
“Last chance,” he warned as he stopped at the edge of the pool with his back towards the water and you over the blue surface. “All you have to say is 'I’m sorry, Chris. The Patriots is the best team ever.’ And you’ll be free to go. After you take of the jersey, of course.”
“I’m sorry, Chris,” you began, biting back your smile as you continued, “I’m sorry I married a man with such poor judg- Chris, no!” You screamed when he pretended to drop you. “Don’t do that,” you smacked his butt, giggling. “You nearly gave me a heart attack. Put me down,” you poked his side.
“Say the words,” he sang song.
“Fine,” you rolled your eyes. “I’m sorry, Chris. The Patriots is the best team ever,” you recited monotonously. “Now can you put me down? All my blood is rushing to my head.” You told him as he pulled you back over his shoulder and lowered you onto your feet in front of him.
“That wasn’t so hard, was it?” He teased.
“Nope,” you smiled and pressed your palm to his chest. “Do you want to know what else isn’t hard?” You whispered as you leaned in, your lips inches away from his. “Tricking my big dumb dumb of a husband.” You giggled then pushed him into the pool before he could comprehend the situation. He fell into the water, cussing, and left you laughing on the sidelines. “You got a bit of water on-” you gestured to his cheek when he rose to the surface, drenched from head to toe. “Yeah,” you giggled when he wiped his cheek, “I think you got it.”
“You’re going to regret that, Y/N.”
“Perhaps,” you shrugged, smiling.
“Want to know what else isn’t hard?”
“You, 'cause it’s freezing in the water?” You teased.
“Yes, but-” he chuckled, swimming to the edge. “I was thinking more along the lines of, pulling my mischievous wife into the water because she’s not fast enough to out run Captain America!” He pushed himself off the edge and launched himself out of the pool, grabbing you before you could run back into the house. “Gotcha!”
“Chris!” You shrieked with laughter as the two of you fell into the water together. “I hate you,” you splashed him when you rose to the surface after him. “It’s f-f-fucking freezing.” You felt your teeth chatter when your body actually realized the temperature of the water.
“Don’t be such a baby.” He chuckled, swimming closer to you. “C'mere, baby.” He grabbed your hand, pulling you close and wrapping an arm around you. You smiled and wrapped your arms around his neck as he leaned in and kissed you. “Just so you know,” he whispered when he broke the kiss, “I’ve got a very dry and very warm Patriots sweatshirt waiting inside for you.”
Overturn Citizens United, ban campaign contributions and let one voice equal one vote
3. Stop spending 50% of all our tax money on war.
Stop killing civilians in the Middle East, and use the extra trillion dollars to reinvest in the Arab world, America’s urban and rural schools, and make college free.
4. LET REFUGEES AND IMMIGRANTS IN!
Refugees and immigrants are usually skilled, open businesses, create innovation and grow the economy. They are also HUMAN BEINGS fleeing war and death and need us to be there for them.
5. Stop putting (black and Latino) kids in prison for nonviolent drug offenses.
Start weakening gangs by legalizing drugs and offering addiction and job training programs.
*bonus: this also greatly reduces gun violence everywhere, especially in large cities*
Put murderers in jail, whether they have a badge or not. Demilitarize police forces, and train officers deescalation tactics. Make sure officers come from the communities they serve. Rebuild trust through human contact with police.
7. end the mass shooting™ Era.
Castrate the NRA. Create an Australia style gun buyback program. Stop letting 14 year olds buy AKs at guns shows. Mandate “safe gun” tech.
*hidden bonus: kindergarteners, churchgoers and the general public will no longer be murdered en masse on a monthly basis. How wacky is that?!?*
8. stop allowing people to go bankrupt because they got sick or hurt
Create a single payer health care system like those in Norway, New Zealand, Japan, the U.K.,
Kuwait, Sweden, Bahrain, Brunei, Canada, the Netherlands, Austria, The UAE, Finland, Slovenia, Denamark, Luxembourg, France, Australia, Ireland, Italy, Portugal, Cyprus, Spain, South Korea, Hong Kong, and Singapore.
yea like wtf? It’s 2017.
10. LET WOMEN HAVE CONTROL OVER THEIR OWN BODIES.
11. Don’t let oil and gas companies destroy the Earth for profit.
Implement a carbon tax, and use the money to invest in renewables, and climate change research.
12. Create 25 million jobs, and revive the American Dream.
Spur a National WWII style mobilization to build renewable energy, manufacture electric cars, invest in organic vertical farming, and clean up our polluted oceans, Lakes and rivers.
*secret bonus: this also keeps our kids from having to live in a dystopian hellscape lol*
13. PAY REPARATIONS to African and Native Americans, just like you did to settlers and slaveowners before/after the Civil War.
14. Close Guantanamo bay, and amend the constitution to ban torture
15. Get Involved(cliche but immensely important) protest, call your representatives, and get involved with organizations like moveleft, Indivisible, and Justice Democrats that push for real and radical improvements to our country.
16. Don’t let cynicism and pessimism cloud your judgement.
If you’re reading this right now and thinking; “okay but nahhhhhhh, none of this can happen in America”, your brain is tricking you. Human evolutionary psychology makes it hard for people to envision a future that is radically different from the past or present, but change can happen fast and is often more radical than you expect. Don’t sit on the sidelines and let the future be decided by the likes of Trump, Bannon, and oil companies. speak up. ACT.