#a dash of peggy carter

[lavellenchanted]

Personal Effects

Steggy Week 2022, Day 3: Headcanons and Meta ↳ A headcanon for post-Endgame

The box sits at the back of Peggy’s wardrobe.

It’s been there for years, moved with her between apartments and houses, plain cardboard with a thin layer of dust on the lid and a blouse that’s fallen of its hanger draped across it and almost obscuring the neatly typed label stuck to the side, that reads, Personal effects of Cptn S. G. Rogers.

It is, like many things in Peggy’s life, a secret.

At the end of the war it had seemed as if anything related to Captain America, anything that might even have retained half a fingerprint, had been scrupulously collected by grey, angular men indistinguishable from one another in their identical suits and taken to some undisclosed location – all of it was packed up and removed from the SSR base, presumably to be pored over for any tiny particle of DNA that might help the government recreate Project Rebirth.

All of it, except one small box that Chester Phillips had brought to her the day the men in suits first arrived and that she had managed, by some small miracle, to spirit out of the base and hide among her own things.

Most of the time it remains undisturbed, apart from when the occasional pair of shoes are stored on top of it. It usually only ever comes out once a year, its contents lifted out one by one and tenderly examined, a quiet ritual to mark an anniversary few others ever think about.

Until the day she’s finally able to return it to its rightful owner.

It’s a few weeks after Steve shows up on her doorstep, when they’re sat at the kitchen table discussing paperwork and false identities and who, or if, they’re going to tell that he’s return when he makes an offhand comment about at least there isn’t the complication of having to reclaim any belongings. He clearly expects Peggy to laugh and blinks in surprise when instead she sits bolt upright before dashing upstairs.

When she returns and places the box down in front of him, his mouth falls opens.

“Are these . . .?”

“Your things.” She nods. “It’s all I managed to save after – well. After. I didn’t even think about it before now but what you said – I thought you might like to have these back, at least.”

His hands shake a little as he lifts off lid and looks to see what’s inside, small pieces of his past that he never expected to see again.

There’s his ration book, worn around the edges, most of the stamps torn out, kept because his name and signature still legible on the front in his clear, neat handwriting. Several loose sheets of paper with half-finished sketches drawn in idle moments. One of them – his cheeks flush red when he sees it – is of Peggy, her face in three-quarter profile, unaware that she was being observed, the pencil strokes soft and drawn with obvious care.

Beneath the sketches are his old watch – a cheap, second-hand thing bought when he was a teenager. It’s long since stopped working, but he takes a moment to marvel at the worn line in the leather strap where he used to have to fasten it so tightly to stop it falling away from his wrist.

A dog-eared copy of The Invisible Man, which he’d been halfway through reading before his last mission. There’s an irony there, given the uncertainty of his own status now, but he doesn’t delve too deeply as he flicks through and finds the ration coupon he’d been using as a bookmark before setting it aside.

There’s a pocket knife, that he thinks was given to him as a present by a neighbour when he was small; it had been replaced by standard military-issue equipment when he was on duty but he couldn’t bring himself to get rid of it entirely and so stowed it away with the rest of his belongings.

And finally – a wallet. Old leather that was beginning to fall to pieces even back that, with a couple of dollar bills still inside, but far more important is the small, black-and-white photograph tucked behind them.

It shows a young woman seated in a chair, a man stood behind it with a hand on her shoulder. She wears a simple, long-sleeves white blouse and ankle length dark skirt, with what looks like sensible boots beneath it. Her hair is pinned back from her face and it’s difficult to be sure of the colour when everything is shades of grey, but it appears blonde. She’s smiling, her right arm held up across her chest so she can hold the man’s hand. He’s in an army uniform, tall and broad-shouldered, hair a few shades darker than the woman’s. He’s looking down at her rather than at the camera, a softness in his expression visible even small and at a distance.

Steve looks at it for several moments before turning it over to see the date written on the back in his mother’s looping cursive: 23 January 1918.

Peggy watches the mingling of joy and grief on his face, and reaches out to place a comforting hand on his shoulder, unconsciously mimicking the pose in the photograph.

“Your parents?”

“Yeah.” His voice cracks a little and he clears his throat before continuing. “It’s only picture I ever had of the two of them together. Dad went back to the front a couple days after this was taken, and it was a month or so later that he died.”

Sorry doesn’t seem nearly enough, especially it only takes the barest calculation to know that Steve’s mother must have just found out she was pregnant around the time this photo was taken.

“You look like him,” Peggy says instead, running her hand up the back of his neck to stroke comfortingly through his hair. “But I can see your mother in you as well.”

“Mom always said I reminded her of him. I liked that, to feel like he was still a part of me even though I never knew him.” Steve absently rubs his thumb over their faces. “One of the more difficult things about being in the future was that I didn’t have anything of them. Sometimes I felt like I was forgetting what they looked like.”

For a moment a frown clouds his face, but then it clears and he looks up at her with a smile.

“Thank you for saving it.”

“I’m just glad you have it back, my darling.” Peggy leans down and brushes a tender kiss across his mouth. “I think I might have a frame somewhere that can fit it – we can put it out on display. Let me check.”

While she disappears from the kitchen to search, Steve turns back to his old wallet and rummages inside again before pulling out one more item – a small, squared silver key.

He grins briefly before slipping it into his pocket. Peggy doesn’t need to know about this, not just yet. Not until he’s had a chance to visit the bank and see if the safe deposit box he left behind is still there, along with the most precious thing he owned before enlisting.

It might be a while yet, but he wants the first time Peggy sees his mother’s engagement ring to be when he’s asking her to marry him.

#steggy #steggyweek22 #steggy week #steggy week 2022 #steve x peggy #steve rogers #peggy carter #otp: the right partner #my fic #please forgive any typos I dashed this off in like two hours

[timeguardiansarchive]

What comes included with you?

Tagging EVERYONE

#muse: peggy carter #Muse: Melody #Muse: Missy Cooper #Dash games

[natalinova]

did tumblr really reccomend the "anti peggy carter" tag to me 💀💀💀

#we're very pro peggy carter in this blog #i don't remember how to make a tag not appear on my dash anymore #peggy carter

[florida3exclamationpoints]

I hope I look like peggy carter in your heads

#i was thinking how even tho i just changed my theme it probably doesn't confuse anyone to see a new icon on the dash lol #bc im always the peggy carter icon girlie #but you all look like specific pics of Taylor Swift (your icons) in my head #so i really hope i am not just a blog to you. but also peggy carter.

[hollybee8917]

In the Court of the Shield and Star

Chapter 1- The Angel and the King

Plot: King Steve Rogers meets Eliza Frye who is a total mystery to him. They start to fall in love, but things are never that simple.

Characters: Steve Rogers, Eliza Frye (OFC), Tony Stark, Clint Barton, Natasha Romanoff, Peggy Carter, Bucky Barnes, Owen Tyre (OC), Sam Wilson, Pietro Maximoff, Wanda Maximoff, Stephen Strange

Warnings in this chapter: Assault, harassment, physical violence, animal attack

Howling. Endless howling. Eliza looked up from the parchment on which she was drawing and she moved to the window. A dim light was low over the field. As she looked out, she saw a figure. He was waving a sword but his movements were jerky. Around him, a pack of wolves circled, growling, lunging, snapping at him.

Fear filled her. The man was going to die if she didn’t help. Quickly, she grabbed her bow and her loaded quiver before running out the door. She reached a slight ridge behind the trapped man. From where she was positioned, she could see the man was injured.

Eliza raised her bow and nocked an arrow. Pulling the string back, she steadied her draw then released. The arrow whistled through the air and struck a wolf. It went down with a whimper. Instantly, Eliza repeated her motions. Nock, draw, release. Nock, draw, release. The arrows shrilled through the air hitting their marks. Soon, only three wolves were left but now they were focused on her.

The young woman slid down the ridge as the howling wolves rushed toward her. At the bottom of the ridge, she picked up her sword and prepared herself with a flame. The scarred alpha made his way over the ridge and down toward her before stopping at the sight of the woman holding shimmering steel and a large torch. It paced back and forth before letting out a long howl and dashing back the way it had come with the other two right behind.

Eliza let loose a sigh and lowered her sword and sheathed it. Then she remembered. The injured man! She took off in the direction she had last seen him. Waving the torch, she spotted him. I have to get him to safety.

~~

King Steve Rogers groaned as he rolled onto his back. He opened his eyes to find himself in a strange bed. A window sat on his left and to his right was a wooden door. He threw back the blankets and swung his feet to the floor. The man looked down at his unclad torso wrapped in a white bandage. Who did this? Where am I?

Before he could muse any farther, the door opened to reveal a beautiful young woman. She smiled gently at him, “Oh, wonderful, you’ve woken. I was fearful that you would not. You gave me quite the fright last night. How do you feel?”

The blonde man was stunned to silence at her simple beauty so she tilted her head, “Have you a tongue, good sir?”

This simple remark somewhat amused Steve and he let out a low yet hearty laugh, “Indeed I have a tongue, kind maiden. I am most confused, however, as to my whereabouts and the situation that has led to this remarkable hospitality.”

She poured a small pitcher of water into the wash basin on the table by the door, “You were attacked by a pack of wolves. You needed aid so I hurried to your side with bow and quiver in hand.”

Steve looked down at his semi-clothed form, “You saved me.”

“I did.”

He let his eyes drift up to hers, “And you have brought me here alone?”

The girl wrung out the rag she had soaked in the bowl of water and approached Steve with it, “I did. You were in dire need and I was always taught to help those in need. Lift your chin. There was some dirt I could not remove last night.”

Steve did as he was told then he glanced around the room, “Where are my tunic and shirt? Also, I had a satchel slung over me. Where has it gone? Have you looked inside it?”

She smiled gently, “I washed them as best I could and hung them to dry. Once they had dried, I folded them and put them here on the chair. The satchel I have placed on the chair as well. I did not search your belongings. I will leave you to dress. Should you need any help, please call for me.”

Confusion crossed the man’s face, “Thank you for your aid and the respect you have shown by not searching my things while I was incapacitated. But how should I call for you if I do not know your name, fair one.”

Once more she smiled at him as she turned away, “Eliza Frye.”

Then she was gone and Steve was left alone.

~~

Eliza was seated at her table when the stranger exited the bedroom. Steve noticed that she did not take note of him and cleared his throat causing her to shift her gaze to him, “Oh, my apologies. Would you like some food to eat, good sir?”

He nodded, “Yes, what have you to offer?”

She rose from her chair and made her way into her larder, “I have bread, cheese and eggs. I also have salted pork and cured fish. What takes your fancy?”

The king responded, “I will have the bread and cheese for now. I do not wish to eat all you have.”

Eliza tucked hair behind her ear as she stepped out of the larder with the food he requested, “You do no such thing, kind sir. Please, tell me should you desire more.”

A loud rapping came from her door and Eliza hurried away to answer it. She gulped as the rapping rattled the door. Cautiously sliding it open, she felt herself forced from the home and she hit her knees as two men shoved her down. Eliza knew why the men were there.

The two men were soldiers from a nearby fort. They plagued the little village but targeted Eliza specifically due to her living alone. The taller of the two was a soldier named Rhys Argent. He was cruel and enjoyed the torment of others. Beside him, the other solder, who was named Wendell Colby, sneered at her, “Where’s the payment you promised us?”

Eliza shivered, “I-I-I don’t have any money.”

“I-I-I. Come now. You can do better than that,” Rhys Argent mocked her. Then his tone turned serious, “Do you not recall what we said would happen if you did not pay us?”

She was too frightened to speak and could only keep her eyes forward. Rhys raised his hand then brought it down against the side of her head her cheek causing Eliza to fall over. Wendell Colby let out a low laugh, “Why don’t we start with your precious horse, huh? You want us to take it?”

Eliza said nothing which angered Wendell and Rhys more. As Rhys brought his foot up and connected it to Eliza’s side, Wendell’s eyes grew wide and he fell into a kneel. Rhys didn’t notice and continued his attack on Eliza.

“Kneel,” Wendell hissed.

Rhys did not hear and instead continued his assault on Eliza.

“KNEEL!” A voice boomed.

In one fluid motion, Rhys looked up, his eyes widened in fear and he fell to one knee. Eliza slowly rose up onto her knees then turned. Shock filled her soul. In the doorway stood Steve but not as she had seen him before. A carefully crafted elaborate crown with sapphires and black diamonds was placed upon his head. His tunic and shirt were carefully tucked in but the sleeves flowed freely without restraint. A cloak was clasped around his neck. He looked kingly.

Rhys spoke, “Your majesty! Forgive us!”

Steve hushed him with a glare. He then reached down and helped Eliza to her feet, “Are you badly injured?”

She kept her head down and shook it. Tenderly, Steve used a finger to lift her chin, “Do not be afraid. Let me show you the same kindness you have shown me. Return to your chair and rest. I shall be in once I have dealt with these two.”

Eliza did not cast a glance to the soldiers but quietly smiled at Steve, “Thank you, your majesty.”

With this she reentered her cottage.

Steve turned to the two men and spoke with authority, “Why did you attack an innocent villager? Is your command not to serve and protect my people? Are you not part of your King’s army, sworn to protect the crown and those living under it? What are your names, soldiers?”

The two men stuttered but have no coherent response. “ANSWER YOUR KING!,” Steve roared.

Wendell was the first respond though he kept his head low, “I am Wendell Colby, your majesty. My companion is Rhys Argent. We are soldiers stationed at Whitich Keep.”

Steve hummed, “Whitich Keep. I know it well. Return there and inform your commander that I shall be arriving shortly. I will deal with you at the fort.”

“Yes, majesty.” Wendell replied but neither man moved.

“Now!,” barked King Steve, “And make haste.”

The men fled back to their horses and were swiftly gone fearing any further wrath from the king.

~~

Eliza was seated in her chair, holding a compress to her side when he returned. She was instantly on her knees without a sound. Once more, he lifted her up, “Please do not do that. Not on my account. Please sit.”

She did as he commanded and he picked up his satchel, “I have business to attend at Whitich Keep but I shall return. Before I go, have you a horse I may borrow? I am afraid mine fled in encounter yesterday eve.”

Eliza replied, “I have a mare who is broken and a stallion I have been breaking to ride. I think he is ready and would be more suited for your majesty.”

The king brushed a stray hair from the girl’s face, “You intrigue me, Eliza Frye, and I would like to call on you once more.”

Eliza lost her nerve to speak and Steve smirked, “Have you a tongue, fair one?”

She looked at him with a smile and a laugh, “Aye, I have a tongue, good sir and I use it well.”

They both laughed and King Steve Rogers motioned to the door, “Perhaps you might show me the steed I am to ride so I may hurry away and then back to you?”

She led him out to the paddock and called over the brown Stallion with a low whistle. It trotted over and she watched as Steve, the king, tacked it up. The king turned with a slight bow then swung himself upon the stallion, “Until we meet again.”

Eliza curtseyed to him then watched as he rode away.

~~

Steve entered the village of Gramsby and observed the state of it. The town’s cobbled streets were well-kept and the homes were in perfect condition but something was missing. Slowly, Steve pulled the horse to the side of the street and dismounted the horse he had borrowed from Eliza Frye. Tying the horse to the hitching post, the king made his way to the pub. He was careful to not raise an alarm.

However, when the king reached for the door, he found it shored up from the inside. He heard hushed whispers from the inside the pub and the realization hit him hard. Where are all the people?

The king knocked on the door, “Good gentleman, I have travelled long and wish only for a drink from your establishment. Perhaps I may enter?”

A voice called from inside, “We have very little money or grog.”

~~

The sky seemed to mirror King Steve’s mood as he rode through the gate of Whitich Keep. Above his head, storm clouds had gathered and lightening threatened to crack the sky. A tall man dressed with many medals approached as the blonde king dismounted his horse. With a great swoop, he fell to one knee, “Majesty, we are greatly honored by your presence. How may I be of service to you?”

“Save your pleasantries, General. I did not come here to bandy words. Bring to me the soldiers who are stationed here.”

“I take you would like to deal with Rhys Argent and Wendell Colby. I have placed them in the stockade. What other punishment-“

“SILENCE!” Steve bellowed as the thunder echoed in the sky, “Bring to me ALL of the soldiers stationed here.”

Fearful of furthering the king’s wrath, General Edryd Cadigan motioned for the gathering of his men. The rain began to fall as a mustering horn was sounded. Quickly, the soldiers lined up and one by one fell to one knee. The General spoke to the King, “Majesty, may I-“

Steve cut him off, “Silence, General Cadigan. Tis my turn to speak. Now, who would like to inform me of the incidents in the town of Gramsby?”

Not a single soldier spoke. Instead, they looked among themselves. The king turned toward the captain, “Bring me Rhys Argent and Wendell Colby.”

The captain nodded and walked to the stockade. Again, the king addressed the line of men, “I will only ask you once more. Why have you been tormenting the people of Grimsby?”

A young man stepped forward, “Majesty, if I may speak?”

Steve sized the lad up, “What is your name, son?”

“Aelric Hylderley,” the young man responded, “your majesty.”

Steve approached him, “What do you have to say for these men, Aelric?”

The young soldier gulped, “I am afraid that the people of Grimsby have been targeted by many of the men. The general has done little to curtail the actions of the men in this fort. In fact, he has encouraged it. Those who protested the actions of their fellow soldiers were disciplined.”

Steve bristled, “Where was the captain?”

“Spending most of his time in the stockade for protesting, your majesty.”

The king turned and looked to the captain, “Dismiss your men. I will deal with them one by one. Young Hylderley, what rank are you in this company?”

Aelric shook slightly, “I am a mere soldier, Majesty.”

Steve turned and faced his general, “You will be henceforth stripped of your rank and demoted to Lieutenant in my army. Is that understood?”

Cadigan began to cower, “Yes, Majesty. It’s understood.”

He stepped back, “Captain, take the General into arms and hold him until a new leader arrives at the fort. I have already sent back to the capital for one.”

Another soldier stepped forward, “Yes, your majesty.”

“Now, where are the traitors?”

The captain motioned to the men in chains, “Here, Majesty.”

“Hang them and any other soldiers guilty of harming my people.”

Then Steve turned and walked back to his horse, ignoring the cries of the two men behind him pleading for mercy.

~~

Eliza was sitting alone in the cottage, reading a book, when there came a knock at the door. She rose and made her way over. Timidly, she opened the door to find the King standing before her. Bowing low, she murmured, “Majesty.”

Steve placed his hands at her elbows and matched her tone, “Please, look at me and not my boots.”

Eliza raised her chin and met his gaze, “What may I aid you with, Majesty?”

The king tilted his head, “You are a fascinating creature, Eliza Frye, and I would like to call on you again.”

She shook her head, “It would be ill-advised to do so, your Majesty. I am a commoner and as such would not be worthy of your time. You would be more suited to seek the company of a lady of the court.”

“I believe that as king, that should be my determination, not anyone else’s. I have set my eyes on you and you alone. Would you not prefer my company?”

“I would, Majesty, but I don’t know how the people would take it. I am not like the women of your court least of all, Duchess Margaret whom I hear is a great beauty.”

Steve shook his head, “Nay, you are far more lovely, compassionate and courageous. Please allow me to call on you once more.”

“Very well, my king.”

He bowed to her and turned, “I will have your horse returned to you in haste upon my arrival back at the capital.”

“Keep him. I have no need for another.” Steve smiled the mounted the horse, waved goodbye and spurred the horse toward home.

#steve rogers #original character #original female character #tony stark #wanda maximoff #bucky barnes #peggy carter #original male character #clint barton #natasha romanoff #captain america #sam wilson #pietro maximoff #king!Steve Rogers #King!Tony Stark #Knight!Bucky #steve rogers x oc

[alder-saan]

Fenhoff: _._ .. ._.. ._.. .__. . __. __. _.__ _._. ._ ._. _ _. ._.

Dottie, pretending not to see the dash in "._..": 'Kiss Peggy Carter'? I mean, the orders are the orders :)

#carterwood #dottie underwood #agent carter #peggy carter #incorrect quotes

[look-how-they-massacred-them]

Preliminary Poll

Daniel Sousa

Submission reason:

He was totally set up to be Peggy Carter's eventual husband. He fit everything we knew about the guy, and he was a perfect match for Peggy-- a sensible, noble type who would be perfectly content with her taking the spotlight and having Adventures, yet was smart enough and had enough similar experiences that they were true equals. Then they cancelled the show. Then somebody decided, hey, wouldn't it be awesome if STEVE had been Peggy's husband all along? (It wasn't awesome) We hereby force this to make sense and it is now MCU canon so live with it, continuity-whiners! 'Agents of SHIELD' did their best to redeem this by making Sousa a famous SHIELD role model martyr, then allowing him to live anyway through the magic of time travel, and setting him up with Daisy Johnson, but that couldn't fix the fact that the end of Endgame was just a complete narrative mistake for Peggy (and especially Daniel) in the first place.

Propaganda:

He's also excellent Representation for people with physical disabilities. He lost a leg in the war, and while this is taken seriously and not ignored, it doesn't stop him from both kicking butt and being a particularly dashing love interest.

#look how they massacred them poll #look how they massacred my boy #agent carter #daniel sousa #mcu #marvel #marvel cinematic universe

[srgntjamesbuckybarnes]

Truth or Dare (3)

Summary: What started off as an innocent game of truth or dare between two noble born sisters, Y/N and Margaret “Peggy” Carter, quickly turns south when Y/N meets Steve Rogers and James “Bucky” Barnes. 10 years later Peggy is getting married reuniting the bunch, tensions rise as the sisters engage in truth or dare one more time before Peggy is married.

Rating: Mature

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: None

Word Count: 2.7k

A/N: Not Beta'd

Series Masterlist

Previous Chapter

Chapter 3

The next morning portraits of Steve mocked Y/N as she made her way around the castle. They disappeared in the darkness last night like the man himself. She swore his piercing blue eyes followed her down the hall, but his lips never parted to guide her to his room, nor did they part when she stopped to glare at one of the paintings. His eyes just bored back into hers in a silent challenge. She had to find Steve, but he wasn’t the ghost from her past that kept her awake. Bucky’s words haunted her. A threat or a warning?

“Lady Carter. Your presence has been requested,” a guard relayed. Without waiting for a response, the guard turned, leading her outside. The sun was bright but beating off of the guard’s metal armor made it almost impossible for Y/N to follow him. She squinted, relying on her ears to guide her. The familiar jangle of armor paired with the darkness behind her nearly closed eyes gave her Déjà vu. This time, she was the one following the guard. She wondered if he had been the one following her last night.

“Y/N, nice of you to join us.”

Y/N’s eyes snapped open at her mother’s passive tone. In the bunch, her eyes found Steve’s, silently pleading to speak with him. He averted his gaze, his back stiffening like a soldier at attention. Ignoring her family, Y/N curtsied acknowledging the king's presence. When the conversation picked up, Y/N tuned them out watching the guard walk away. Perhaps she would blind herself if she stared long enough. 

“Y/N,” Amanda snapped. Behind her mother was a bunch of shrinking figures in the distance. She hadn’t realized she was being left behind. “Why do you insist on embarrassing me in front of the king?”

A dark thought briefly crossed Y/N's mind as she tuned her mother’s voice out. Maybe the guard could take her ears along with her sight. Then she wouldn’t have to see or hear her mother.

She had never been in the gardens before, but she already felt at home. The fields of fresh-cut grass reminded her of the times she would read or chase Peggy during the summer. Unlike her home, the castle gardens had cobblestones to guide her. She wasn’t completely lost from the group.

The soft thumping of hooves clicked in the distance as Y/N and her mother rushed to catch up to the group. As the thumping grew louder, Y/N slowed down leisurely strolling through the garden, hoping to catch a glimpse of the horse drawing closer. Her mother walked faster, passing Y/N. Amanda Carter intended to put as much distance as possible between her and the creature. She was wearing one of her nicer dresses, she wouldn’t let an animal ruin it by kicking dirt on her.

When the crunching of grass under the horse's weight grew louder, Y/N peeked over her right shoulder. Sure enough, in the field was a sleek black horse intending to zoom past her. Closer and closer the horse grew, accompanied by its rider. She could make out the brown hair flopping in the wind from miles away and when the horse dashed past her, she was briefly blinded much like she had been with the previous guard.

Snapping out of her daze, Y/N charged past her mother chasing after the horse. For a moment, she was on the back of the horse, her hair blowing in the wind. She was completely free. Her laughter rang out and much to her amusement, the horse fell into a trot allowing her to catch up. Now that he was slower, she was able to recognize the steel blue eyes tracking her as she passed. Just as she thought he stopped completely; she glanced back over her shoulder. Big mistake. She briefly caught the smirk on his lips before his heels struck the horse’s belly. She faltered for a moment and her hair whipped around her head in a flash. Although the horse was gone, the Bucky she knew years ago wasn’t.

With a hand over her heart, Y/N caught her breath as she listened to the hooves fade away. For a moment, she was free. With one glance back at her mother, her world came crashing down. She was a prisoner, and her warden was furious. Y/N hissed as her mother snatched the bend of her arm dragging her forward.

“You are almost as much of an embarrassment as the king’s own son.”

She didn’t release her grip until they reached the rest of the group. If anyone noticed, they didn’t mention it. Y/N clutched her left arm attempting to alleviate the pressure induced by her mother’s fingertips.

In front of them was a lavish marble fountain. At the top was a beautiful marble-etched woman. Surrounding the fountain lay a series of orchids.

“This is where your statue will go one day, courtesy of Stark,” the king announced, zeroing in on Peggy. “This was a gift for Winifred when we married. What better place to be recognized than in the queen’s gardens?”

“What of the orchids?” Peggy questioned, her fingers lightly brushing along one of the petals.

The king grinned, “A symbol of fertility. Hopefully, once your statue is up, you will be blessed with a son like my wife, and I were.”

Peggy jumped back from the petals earning a burst of roaring laughter from the king.

“Speaking of sons,” Amanda stuck up her nose, “yours rode past us on a horse nearly ruining my dress.”

The king shook his head, “He is supposed to be here, not out gallivanting. I will speak with James later.”

“Perhaps as his king and not his father this time,” Harrison quipped.

Any arguments were lost on Y/N’s ears. Bucky was Prince James. The Prince James that Steve saved from the king’s guards years ago. The reason the king’s guards were out that night. The reason Steve was nearly murdered. The reason Y/N had to sacrifice herself for Steve and was sent away.

Between the sun, running, her corset, and all of this new information Y/N fainted.

Something cold and wet slid across Y/N’s face as her eyes fluttered open. Taking in her surroundings, she realized she was inside her temporary bedroom inside of the castle. She couldn’t remember getting there. Did she dream the past few hours up?

“Y/N, you’re awake,” Peggy gushed, crouched beside her.

Reaching up, Y/N wiped the liquid from her forehead. “What happened?”

Peggy shifted Y/N’s legs so she could sit on the edge of the bed. Her fingers playing with a damp cloth in her hands. “You just fainted. Everyone panicked. We didn’t know what happened. Are you okay?”

Rubbing her forehead, Y/N shrugged. “I guess so. I mean,” she paused, wiggling her limbs, “I feel fine. Where is everyone? How did I end up here?”

Peggy hummed, “Mother was embarrassed. Father is with her, talking her down. The king offered to send someone to look after you but I couldn’t rest until I knew you were okay. Steve carried you back. He’s good like that.”

Steve. Bucky. James. Y/N needed to talk to Steve. “Where is he now?”

A giggle escaped Peggy, “Steve left. He wouldn’t dare be caught in a room with me alone before the wedding. People would talk. Besides, you’re not much company when you’re passed out.”

“Well, can you go get him so I can thank him for carrying me back here?” Y/N was thankful but hoped Peggy would just let her talk to Steve.

Crossing her arms, Peggy pretended to think about it. After a long moment of silence, Peggy sent Y/N a toothy grin. “Fine. But,” she pointed her finger at Y/N’s chest, “you have to ask me the question now.”

Y/N groaned, rolling her head to the side. She wasn't ready to give up her power yet, but she needed to talk to Steve. She needed answers but that didn’t mean she needed to give them. She would just pick dare the next time Peggy asked her the question. With a sigh, Y/N caved, “Truth or dare?” She hoped Peggy would pick dare. That would delay her own dare later. Luck wasn’t on Y/N’s side.

“Truth,” Peggy smirked. It was the quickest way to get to what she wanted to know.

Biting her lip in deep thought she closed her eyes. Maybe she shouldn’t ask it but every time she thought of something else to ask, this question kept pushing its way to the front of her mind. Releasing her lip, Y/N breathed, “Did anyone miss me while I was gone?”

Peggy gasped, clutching Y/N’s hand. “Of course, you were missed!” Y/N’s eyes flickered open at Peggy’s harsh tone. “How could you even ask that?”

“I don’t know,” Y/N mumbled, plucking at a loose thread on the sheet.

“I felt so guilty when you left, I would cry myself to sleep. You were my best friend, my sister, of course, I missed you. Even mother wept some nights. Father almost went to bring you home several times.”

Tears pricked Y/N’s eyes. It should have felt nice to be wanted and cared for, but she didn’t feel any of that now. That’s the thing about being missed, they can’t miss you if you are present. All of the emotions her family should have expressed in her presence had been wasted on her absence. Severed from her family like a flower plucked from its roots; trapped in her own world unable to ever feel connected to her roots again. A flower without roots eventually wilts away but a flower that returns comes back stronger.

Wiping the tears away, Y/N released her hand from Peggy's grasp. “Can you go get Steve now, please,” she said lowly.

Peggy’s lips pulled back into a tight-lipped smile. She was no stranger to someone deflecting from the current topic. She completed her dare so technically, she could ask the older Carter sister the question now and unravel the past ten years but even though Y/N wasn’t in a condition to pick dare, she doubted Y/N would pick truth.

“Very well then. I’ll send for Steve but Y/N,” Peggy paused waiting for her sister to meet her eyes, “this conversion isn’t over.”

Thump. Thump. Thump.

For a man over six feet tall, Steve was graceful. He was surprisingly light on his feet so even though Y/N asked for Steve, the knock on the door had her jolting upright in bed. The knock had been a formality rather than a request to enter. She had summoned him after all. 

Before her stood a magnetic man; he oozed confidence and had a larger-than-life presence. He was a leader, a king without the status, yet. His hair was just as perfect in person as it was in his portraits, combed over without a single strand of hair out of place.

Without meeting her eyes, Steve shut the door before striding across the room to push the curtains open. Y/N hissed at the sudden harsh light entering her eyes. “You didn’t have to open the curtains,” she hissed, her hand shielding her eyes. Finally, Steve faced her, his arms crossed in an intimidating stance. Had Y/N not recently fainted she might have stood up to appear more leveled with him, as equals. 

“It’s for your own protection,” his voice was stern, leaving little room for argument.

Y/N was well aware of their predicament. She was an unmarried woman in a room alone with an unmarried man. People would talk and her reputation would be ruined, again. Or maybe it was still ruined? As long as they were in public, where someone else could easily see them, it wouldn’t be considered a scandal.

“I think we’re beyond that but it's good to know chivalry is not dead.”

Steve didn’t laugh. His face hardened, “I thought you called me here to thank me?”

She would have believed him had she not played poker with him years ago. He knew the weight of the circumstances better than she did. “We both know that’s not true. You need to work on your poker face.” After a short pause, she added, “Thank you.”

Raising an eyebrow, Steve asked, “What did you tell Peggy?”

Stunned, Y/N shook her head, “Nothing.”

A sigh escaped the blonde as he slumped into a chair across from the bed.

Leaning forward, her hands sprawled out on the cotton sheets. She didn’t know where to start. She supposed starting with her side would be easier, so she addressed the elephant in the room first, “Sorry for kissing you.” Steve’s cheeks-tinged pink at the memory. It was his first kiss and the events that followed hadn’t exactly been forgettable. “I wasn’t even supposed to be at that party. Peggy and I had this stupid game going and she dared me to kiss a boy.”

Steve snorted, “I guess I owe my fiancé a thank you for my first kiss then.”

It was Y/N’s turn to blush. She didn’t expect to be Steve’s first kiss. “We are not telling Peggy that.”

The blonde nodded in agreement.

“That night, the guards brought me home. My aunt was visiting and heard everything. She demanded I be sent away to learn to be a proper lady. My mother listened to her, always trying to impress her sister. Anyway, years later I’m here and you have a lot of explaining to do,” Y/N wagged her finger at Steve.

Running his palms along his trousers, Steve sighed, “It’s not my story to tell.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, “Don’t give me that. Start with Bucky and why you were at that party.”

Sucking in a breath Steve began, “I grew up poor, I was always sick. My father did the king a favor to help get me medicine, he was knighted and from that day forward, Buck and I were friends. At the time he seemed complicated, but I understand him now.” Steve paused observing the bedroom. “I always thought what could he possibly want out here? He had everything, but he just wanted to be a kid. He’d sneak out to hang out with me and other kids our age. Just trying to get away from the pressure.”

“And now?” Y/N asked. “How did you end up in line for the throne?”

Steve raised an eyebrow, “You don't know?” When the countess didn’t reply, Steve explained, “The war. It changed him.” He held his hands up in surrender, “It’s not my story to tell but the citizens weren’t happy. The king did what any king would do; he protected his kingdom. He stripped Bucky of his title and appointed me as his successor.”

Y/N gasped. Had she been so far removed from reality the past ten years that she didn’t even know who was next in line for the throne? “Is that why he was drunk last night?”

Steve scowled, “You saw him?”

Y/N hesitated, shrinking back on the bed, “I got lost looking for you. Then he passed the garden on horseback earlier.”

A hand ran through Steve’s blonde hair loosening the strands. “Bucky is like my brother Y/N. I love him but we don’t exactly see eye to eye anymore. Be careful around him, he’s dangerous.”

For years Bucky felt like a hamster running on a wheel, always running but never reaching a destination. But today, he did. Mirrored before him was a marbled version of himself. The last loitering around the castle. A reflection of who he used to be, flawless; the marble showcasing every dip and curve. A time when he was adored by the public, his friends, and his parents. However, the statue had been vandalized, the left arm missing from the shoulder down to reflect his new form. The old Bucky was gone and soon this statue would be too.

Every hero needs a villain. The seat beside the king that once belonged to prince James now seated his blonde-headed best friend, Steve. Paintings that littered the castle walls once featuring the brunette heir to the throne now were painted over, completely unrecognizable. Any statues in the gardens had been reconstructed to reflect the new prince. James wasn’t evil, but if they wanted to erase James like a page ripped out of a history textbook and paint him as the villain then he’d be a fucking monster.

Next Chapter

#bucky x you #bucky x female reader #bucky x reader #bucky fic #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky fanfic #james bucky barnes #james barnes #james buchanan barnes #winter soldier x y/n #winter soldier x you #winter soldier x reader #winter soldier #steve rogers #captain america #au #bucky au #mcu #marvel cinematic universe #marvel

[smolderingflame]

New Fic Alert! How To Succeed In Show Business (Without Really Trying) : Captain America/MCU - Steve/Bucky by SmolderingFlame

How To Succeed In Show Business (Without Really Trying) by SmolderingFlame Artwork by Winx: @buckymilf

Rating: Explicit

Archive Warning: No Warnings apply

Category: M/M

Fandoms: Captain America/MCU

WIP Fic

Relationship: Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers

Characters: James Barnes, Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanov, Wanda Maximoff, Tony Stark, Sam Wilson, Clint Barton, Bruce Banner, Alexander Pierce, Peggy Carter, Brock Rumlow

Summary: It's 1943, the Golden Age of Hollywood and smack dab in the middle of World War II. Steve Rogers is a famous dashing actor while Bucky Barnes is a Tinsel Town starlet. The two find themselves in a particular situation thanks to their studio contracts.

Simply put the two stars with a rocky past find themselves in a Hollywood arranged marriage.

Surely two large egos will be able to coexist.

Right?

Tags: AU, no powers, 1940s setting, Golden Age of Hollywood, actors, sexism, arranged marriages, discussion of abortion, Bucky Barnes needs a hug, Sassy Bucky Barnes, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Old-fashioned Steve Rogers, Crossdressing, feminization, Hollywood, Not Peggy Carter Friendly, implied non-con, wild parties, starlet Bucky Barnes, Leading man Steve Rogers, Snobby Bucky Barnes, Snobby Steve Rogers, out of character, enemies to lovers, drama, romance, comedy, Omegaverse, Omega!Bucky Barnes, Alpha!Steve Rogers, Bottom!Bucky Barnes, Top!Steve Rogers, Dramatic!Bucky Barnes, Getting To Know Each Other, First Dates, Crack treated seriously,

#steve x bucky #top steve rogers #bottom bucky barnes #alpha steve rogers #omega bucky barnes #omegaverse #ao3 fanfic #mcu fandom #marvel mcu #captain america #fanfiction #stucky #stucky fic #1940s aesthetic

[bedlamsbard]

“The soldier,” Thanos said. He flinched a little as one of Natasha’s widow’s stings hit him in the side of the head, but brushed it off as if it was nothing more than a mosquito bite. “The man out of…time.”

Thanos let the last word linger there between them. The Stones set across his knuckles glittered in the fading sunlight as he turned his left hand over, thoughtful.

He was a kid playing with a new toy, the kind of boy who burned the wings off flies with a magnifying glass and a sunbeam. Steve knew the exact instant Thanos realized he could use more than one of the Stones at the same time.

March 1945: With the deaths of Johann Schmidt and Steve Rogers only a month old, the SSR has spent the intervening weeks hunting down the last of Hydra’s holdouts. When Peggy Carter and the Howling Commandos are unexpectedly called back to London, however, the return of Steve Rogers from beyond the grave raises more questions than it answers – and draws the attention of a dangerous new enemy.  (Steve Rogers/Natasha Romanoff)

Previous: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12

13: Good Old Days 161K, AU, WIP

Chapter preview:

The glow was fading from Carol Danvers as a hatch clunked open on the spaceship, which huddled on the lawn like a broken-winged bird.  The gangway creaked as it descended, a visible dent in it, and it stopped about two feet off the ground, tilting to the left.  The woman who appeared at its top had to stomp her foot against it several times to get it to descend the rest of the way.  If Bucky hadn’t been having what was easily the worst three weeks of his life – which was saying something – he might have been more surprised at her appearance; she was bald-headed, blue-skinned, and with metallic implants on her skull and a prosthetic left arm that made him feel a little less self-conscious about his own.  Her gaze swept around them, searching, then focused on Rocket, who had started running when the hatch had opened.  He stopped at its base, looking up at her.  She shook her head a little and his whole body slumped, his ears and tail going slack with disappointment and dashed hopes. The blue-skinned woman ducked briefly out of sight and reemerged an instant later, supporting a gaunt man who leaned heavily on her shoulder as she helped him down the metal steps.  Pepper Potts cried out, breaking into a run, but it was Rhodes who got there first, taking Tony Stark’s weight from the strange woman and saying something to him.  Stark’s shoulders went slack with relief as he saw Rhodes and Potts, relaxing for a moment into their arms before he straightened up enough to look around.  His gaze tracked Banner and Barton, then Sam, which got a slight frown, and Yelena, whom he looked at without recognition. Then he saw Bucky. He went tense, almost surging forward despite Rhodes’s restraining hand against his shoulder.  He looked past Bucky, searching, then around again, looking for someone who wasn’t there. “Who’s dead?” he said. “Tony –” Rhodes began. “Let’s get inside –” “Who’s dead?” Stark insisted. “Steve’s dead,” Bucky said flatly.  “So is Romanoff.”

#my fic #of home near #iw time travel concept #as always comments are appreciated

[imaginedreamwrite]

Breach Of Contract: Part 3

Was he truly in a daze? Was he so far in his head while staring at the captured images of a falsified to not hear the way Peggy was addressing her and his interns over the phone?

Was he so far in his tract of self-denial that he could have turned a deaf ear to the way she screeched? Or was Steve just tone deaf?

Had he become so accustomed to the way Peggy Carter had spoken to her staff in the confines of a private dwelling that he had been unable to pull his attention away from the staged photographs of his marriage.

It wasn’t anything he had wanted when he had begun his political career, when he had first set out to be part of the change, to try and make the city, county and state a better place, and now the country, however, there was always a twist to the attempts made. There was always some underhanded trade-off for power and influence, for the right connections.

Peggy Carter was beautiful, it was no word of life and Steve had certainly fallen for the confident woman who had offered more connections than he could have made on his own. It had, at least for him, started as genuine want and love.

He was devoted and he wanted to be the kind of husband that she deserved, which in turn could have made him blinder to the truth behind her choosing to say yes to him.

Was it merely the reputation she would earn that had kept her with him? Was it the power that came with being a governor or senator’s wife, that she was chasing? Or was it the status and the attention from the media, the opportunity to be in headlines that had driven her?

Whatever it had been, whatever had driven her to agree to marry Steve, there was a vast difference in their emotional connectivity and admittance of affection.

Steve had once longed for Peggy, he had once burned for her when they had first started their marriage and it felt good. He was well on his way to gaining traction in the state, he was well on his way to being an influential politician that people could stand behind.

He was a man who could have changed the way the world around him functioned and that was his intent for the rest of society. He had wanted to be a kind of change, he wanted to be a man who could influence the world for the better.

He was on the track to getting what he had wanted most in life, with a beautiful wife and a thriving career, and as he looked forward to a future with children, the first of his wants and dreams had become dashed. Peggy had confessed to Steve after months of trying to kids that she was infertile.

She had always been infertile, and she never thought to tell him. It was a blow, a painful seeded jab, but Steve was not the kind of man to leave his wife because of an ailment that she could not help. Steve wasn’t going to leave Peggy because there was no chance they could have biological children of their own. There was a chance for adoption, foster care or even coming to terms without children.

“You are incompetent and lazy. You are the stupidest person I have ever met.” Steve had only been pulled from the haze he was in when he had heard Peggy’s voice and the snide edge as she berated the interns on the other line.

Steve had turned from the staged photographs that were doctored to look as if they were natural and as if they were truly in love, and faced Peggy as she stalked around the barely used kitchen towards her bag resting on the spotless marble countertop. She was cold as she usually was, irrevocably angered by some inconvenience that had unsettled her.

“You can’t go around intimidating my interns, Peggy. I won’t let you.” Steve had followed her, scolding her with little hope that she would give a damn. “You can’t speak to them like that, they’re young college kids.”

“Won’t let me?” Her voice rises and her red painted nails dig into the material of her fitted pants. “Won’t let me? I can talk to whoever I want how I want.”

“No,” Steve had already been exasperated when he had started getting ready this morning and it was furthered when he had heard Peggy screaming at interns over the phone, “you won’t. You won’t treat them like that.”

“Steve,” she scoffed and rolled her eyes, her twisted brown curls elegantly and perfectly arranged to give her a look of sophistication that was entirely fabricated, “you cannot tell me what to do. Are you forgetting who you’re talking to?”

“I’m talking to a woman who I thought was once elated to be my wife,” Steve had yanked his suit jacket from the back of the chair and draped it over his arm, “but maybe I’m wrong. Maybe elation was simply misconstrued as possession and control.”

“Don’t forget what I have done for you, what my family has done for you. Maybe you should think twice about opening your mouth-“ Her eyes narrowed, her brown eyes flashing with challenges that came from her narcissistic charm.

“You always have the opportunity to leave.” Steve had cut her off, briskly addressing her with a chill to his voice that was a declaration of the state of their relationship and the falsities of their marriage.

It would have been painful to admit, legally, that he and his marriage had completely failed. It would have been a bitter pill, a bitter realization however maybe he could have then had a chance, a second chance, at a marriage. One with someone that was truly wanting of him as he was of them.

“We need this relationship to look good in the eyes of the media,” she started stalking toward him, her arms crossed over her chest, “so do whatever the fuck it takes to get rid of this piety…screw as many hookers or escorts as it takes-“

“Dammit, Peggy!” Steve slammed his hand on the table and raised his voice in aggression. “Is that the only solution you have?! A perfect marriage in public and sexual infidelity in private? Is that what you’re doing with your interns?”

“I can’t get pregnant,” Peggy sneered, “I can screw all the men I want.”

“It’s not about a child! It’s never been about having or not having a child, it’s about being faithful!” Steve sighed when he heard the notification on his phone, the quiet alarm that told him he had to go.

“I want children, Peggy. I’ve always wanted a family, kids of my own.” Steve had sighed, feeling exhausted from the dead relationship. “But I wouldn’t have ever considered casting you aside because you’re infertile.”

“This marriage is dead,” Peggy spoke the truth, honest yet debilitating, “in all confines except in the eyes of the public.”

“I have to go-“

“Find yourself a good girl to fuck, make yourself feel better.” She had smirked at him, her brown eyes that could have been doeful and wondrous had instead been cold and calculating.

There was nothing warm and inviting about her eyes, nothing that had made him stop and want to take stock of the depths. The further he had looked at her, the more ire he had felt for the hands that were on his shoulders directing him and this failure of a marriage.

“Goodbye, Peggy.” Steve had been at a loss for most words and instead of continuing on the path of some kind of argument, Steve had gripped his suit jacket tighter and swiped his keys from the hook.

He had clutched his keys painfully in his left hand as he moved toward the door, knowing that Peggy was watching him as he moved, watching him until the door had closed and Steve was on the exterior of the biggest lie in his life.

He stood on the other side and listened to his phone chime again, a warning that he needed to continue leaving. Steve had rolled his shoulders back and grit his teeth, internalizing everything he couldn’t afford to take with him, and instead chose to leave it where it had laid.

There was nothing beneficial about taking that baggage with him to the office or trying to deal with the public while having that on his shoulders. Steve had learned early on that leaving that weight at the door had been crucial to continuing his career in politics, and now his campaign in the presidential race. It was a hard lesson, it was an egregious deterrent to keep himself in check.

Steve sighed heavily as he opened the driver’s side door of his SUV and sank onto the leather seat, his sit jacket tossed to the passenger’s side. He had remained silent while he closed the door and pushed the start button near the steering wheel, the quiet rumble of the engine as it turned over was the only sound that had broken the silence.

It was only when Steve had gotten ready to drive away from the house, that he had finally broken the lingering silence by turning on the radio to keep his mind focused on something other than the bitter silence that followed him.

The docket that had come late at night, arriving at your doorstep via a ragged intern who was in no way better rested than you were, had contained every form and every ounce of information you would need to continue your internship directly under Senator Rogers. The information in the packet you were given wasn’t obtusely different than the information you had gotten when you worked for the generalized camp in the weeks you had.

There was a higher expectation for what you had worn when you went to the office, seeing as you were going to be closer to the public eye and working directly for the Senator, your wardrobe had officially needed to be more structured than not.

Other than the few requirements to be made presentable in business casual attire, at the very least, there was an added need for non-disclosures that would prevent you from telling anyone about the work on the campaign and what had gone on behind the scenes. There was nothing that you hadn’t heard of or expected, and other than the wardrobe change, there was only one other qualification that had truly changed.

You, as his intern, were going to be spending a lot more time with Steve both in the state and out, following him to the parties and events he would be headlining. And with each different event, would come a shift in wardrobe style if necessary. There was nothing more in the way of twists about your new job with the bonus of higher pay for a more strenuous job.

‘Rogers has a press conference to get ready for. You need to be at the office in an hour.’

You had received a text while yanking out a pair of your nicest dark wash jeans from the back of your drawer, and one of the only blazers you had, tossing both on the bed while rummaging around for a simple shirt to layer underneath.

“They don’t give you much time to adjust, do they?” You muttered under your breath after completing your task of trying to find what you were looking for and given the short amount of time you had to get ready and be at the office you didn’t have enough time to dig further into your closet.

It took you minimal time to get dressed, your task was hurried by the hectic schedule and the time you would have to order an Uber had whittled the time away. You would have cut it close by the time you arrived at the office with narrowly a few minutes to spare.

After you had slipped on your shoes and departed your apartment, you rushed down the stairs and slipped out of your building. You had stood on the steps, debating on getting an Uber or cab, or even attempting to hop on a train, there was a slow stop of a sleek black SUV that had pulled up to the curb. The window of the passenger side had started to roll down and the appearance of Senator Rogers himself had come into your view.

“Y/N!” Senator Rogers had called your name, stirring your suspicion and wonderment. “Do you need a ride? Hop in, I’ll drive you to the office.”

You had been confused by his arrival outside of your building, even more, confused by how he had waved you over to the vehicle. He had seemingly come from nowhere, and while you hadn’t been given direct details about where he and Peggy Carter had lived, you knew for certain that he hadn’t lived anywhere in this area.

“Senator Rogers,” you stepped up to the passengers’ side door and placed your hands against the open window frame, leaning in ever so slightly, “what are you doing here? Seems far off from your usual.”

“You want a ride? Save you a few dollars.” He had offered again, charmingly so, and there was a brief discourse wherein you had thought about the moment you were offered the higher position and the threat from his wife.

Their marriage, as you had seen, was in no small measure good.

“That would be great.” You had finally answered and stepped back, grasping the smooth black handle to open the door, the blast of cool air hitting you wondrously.

It was a relief, a great weight lifted off your shoulders to know you would make it on time, and had vastly outweighed the potential awkwardness of the drive. You had settled yourself in and buckled yourself up after you’d closed the door, spying a familiar sight of four large pastries boxes in the rear driver’s side seat, the red sticker holding it closed.

“Donuts.” You muttered, a sound catching in your throat as you looked over the familiar name etched into the red sticker. “You came all this way for donuts?”

“They’re the best in the city.” Steve had argued without animosity. “I loved them in university.”

“Me too.” You spoke softly, quietly leaning back against the leather seat. “the place has been there for years.”

“You want one? Take one.”

“You’re bribing me, aren’t you? The exchange of Boston Cream donuts for my silence on…” You hesitated to answer, stopping yourself before you carried on.

“I’m sorry you had to see that,” Steve had immediately apologized on his behalf and for Peggy, although you suspected the latter wouldn’t give a damn, “Peggy and I…everyone struggles in their marriage-“

“You don’t need to explain.” You cut him off, feeling a tendril of awkwardness lingering. “It’s none of my business. I don’t need to know.”

“You can tell, can’t you? That things aren’t good?” Senator Rogers had questioned you, and though this was the first time you had spoken to each other without an audience or in the office, beneath the surface was some genuine easiness that was interwoven with the surmised discomfiture.

“Senator Rogers-“ He had looked at you when he hit a red light, his blue-green eyes revealing far more than you had imagined he wanted to convey, and you had been given a new, and unwanted, scope at the fragility of their marriage.

“Please be honest with me,” you had barely held a conversation, barely managed to speak more than once and yet there was a desperate need for the truth, something that had been hidden from him.

“Yes.” You finally answered with a hitch in your throat. “I can tell things are…bad.”

“Thank you,” Senator Rogers had turned back as the light turned green, a glimmer of relief settling over him, “for your honesty. Thank you for willing to be honest.”

Silence had fallen over the two of you again, silence that was trying and true. There was the gentle and quiet stream of the radio in the background and the shift from music to commercials, everything else was still.

There was nothing more that was going to be said, that could be said, and as the office had come into view, a soft and faint kind of understanding had settled between the two of you.

Permanent Tags List: @jennmurawski13-writes @beardburnsupersoldiers @daydreaminginthechaos @rebekahdawkins @supraveng @bookfrog242 @old-enough-to-know-better73 @rainbowkisses31 @loveitorleaveit20 @alexakeyloveloki @socalgem1124 @mogaruke @dreamlessinparis @frisky975 @dispatchvampire @hereforbuckyandsteve @jesgisborne @fairybnha3 @hallecarey1 @tang082646 @mrslokibarnesrogers @deputy-videogamer @posionivy0061 @loving-life-my-way @kaylamcd2000 @mercyy98 @undecidedsworld @rootcrop @whatinthestyles @slutforsteve @cornmousequeen @rededfoxy @yagurl-snow @glimmering-darling-dolly @patzammit @buckymydarlingangel @missusbarnes-rogers @andy-is-gay @nervousfandom @rileyloves5 @emi11ie @carelessreadersstuff @readingandwritingandreading @cynic-spirit @inkedaztec @gh0stgurl @mansaaay @cats-and-sheep @pono-pura-vida @seitmai @teambarnes72

#senator!steve rogers x intern!reader #senator!steve rogers x reader #senator!steve rogers #steve rogers imagines angst #steve rogers imagines fluff #steve rogers imagine #steve rogersx reader #steve rogers x reader smut #steve rogers x reader angst #steve rogers x reader fluff #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers #breach of Contract #breach of contract masterlist #breach of contract series #breach of contract part 3 #Peggy Carter bashing #Peggy bashing

[justreckin]

20 questions for fic writers

alright @emonydeborah said hey there's a thing and i say yes (ages later)

1. How many works do you have on Ao3? 6

2. What’s your total Ao3 word count? 28,070

3. What fandoms do you write for? Honestly, whatever's catching my fancy in that moment. Of the things I've posted, The Librarians is the only fandom that I've ever even posted more than one fic for.

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

Raising Harry (Harry Potter/Underworld) Where Selene comes across Harry playing at the park alone at night and decides that the best idea is to sorta adopt him.

Never Say He Isn't Grateful (Agent Carter/Captain America) Howard realizes he owes Peggy big time and the best way for him to repay her is to go rescue Steve.

5 Times Ezekiel Called Eve Mum and the Time They Made it Official (The Librarians) 5+1 what it says on the tin.

Second Time Around (Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D.) Coulson went in on the Bahrain mission, May died. Oneshot re-write of the first episode that I considered expanding and have actually written other chapters for but... 🤷‍♀️

How Apep got Ezekiel Grounded for the Rest of his Natural Life (The Librarians) Season 3 Finale in the same universe as the previous Librarians fic that has a second chapter I have yet to write...

5. Do you respond to comments? I certainly try to. I'm not the best at it, but I love getting to have a conversation with anyone who likes the same things I do.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? Heh probably I'm Not Your Mother but even then it's a) not really all that angsty and b) mostly that I dropped a mean bomb on characters and then ran away because I have no idea what else to do with it.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? ...everything else? Look, canon is already regularly very mean to characters. I am here to live in my happy little fantasies where everything works out.

8. Do you get hate on fics? Not hate per se but I'd left up an unfinished multi-chapter fic at one point and someone commented that I was the reason they'd lost faith in authors with unfinished works and is maybe more responsible for me not posting any of the myriad of things I have on my computer than I want to admit.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind? Nah. I write more family than relationship stuff, really.

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written? Yes. Uh... it's not posted, but maybe the Harry Potter/Song of the Lioness that I hashed out at one point.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen? Don't think so.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?  Don't think so.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before? Ha! @emonydeborah and I spitball all the time (it's wonderful) and she absolutely gets credit if that parent trap fic ever gets finished, but I don't think I'm up to the group project that would be co-writting a fic.

14. What’s your all time favorite ship? the Enterprise NCC-1701 dash nothing! All jokes aside, it genuinely is the only ship I go back to on a regular basis.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? Uh... honestly, I don't know that I'll ever finish half the things in my WIP folder.

16. What are your writing strengths? Probably dialogue. I feel I'm pretty good at getting the character's literal voice down.

17. What are your writing weaknesses? Anything happening around the dialogue. In my head these people are always moving around and doing things, but it always feels so clunky if I try to put that onto a page.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic? Maybe an individual word or two for a curse or endearment. I know enough Spanish I'd probably be comfortable writing in it. But that'd be about it.

19. First fandom you wrote for? Uh.... Star Trek? One sec, must check files. Yeah, pretty sure it was a short TOS thing. Hmm might need to take a look at that again, clean it up, repost...

20. Favorite fic you’ve written? Posted? Probably Ezekiel calling Eve mum. Not posted? Nah, actually, don't know that there is one that's not posted.

.... @the-redhead-in-a-dress and @sun-lit-roses did you do it yet, did you do it? I wanna see 😁

#pretty sure y'all've already done this #what i get for showing up three weeks late #and not even starbucks to show for it #oh well #not that i have much written/posted/finished anyways #still fun 😁😁

[steggyfanevents]

Today for Peggy Week, we're looking for your Peggy-themed creations! Flood your dash with Peggy Carter by reblogging some favourite fan art, edits and gifsets - your own or someone else's!

And check out #steggymonth at @steggyfanevents to join the celebration throughout April!

#steggymonth #smw1 #peggy carter #steggy

[roboticonography]

Fic: Post Haste (1/1)

Title: Post Haste

Relationship: Peggy Carter/Steve Rogers

Rating: T

Word count: 13K

Work summary: Steve, Peggy, their friends and family, and a mad dash to the altar. A story in letters.

Notes:

Posted for Day 7 of @steggyfanevents Steggy Week 2023 - Free choice.

➡️ Read it on AO3

#steggy #steve rogers #peggy carter #steggyweek23 #robofic

[agentpeggycarterrogers]

Frozen Together

with @americansentinel

Steve

The plan was far from simple, but simply put, they were raining Hell down on HYDRA and Schmidt's head. For Steve he was doing it for Bucky, for the others, well they were doing it to end the war. There was only one small snag, Schmidt was getting away in a plane and if he took off then it would all be for nothing. Peggy was at his side and Philips was speeding down the runway trying to catch the plane before take off. Steve turned to Peggy.

Peggy

She was ready and she nodded. "Always ready," Peggy replied. They jumped together and dashed up the plane. Steve gave her a boost and then they were aboard the Valkyrie.

Peggy was here to support him, to help the cause, so she pulled out her pistol and fired on Schmidt's lackeys who approached them. "Go get him!" she called to Steve. "I've got this - I can handle it. I'll find you."

Steve

He knew he needed to stick with the plan. Peggy could handle herself just fine.

Still, Steve couldn't just run off to fight Schmidt without doing this first.

"In a second, there's something I need to do first." Summoning all his courage, Steve grabbed Peggy by the waist and kissed her.

"Okay. Now I can go get him."

Peggy

Peggy wrapped her arms around his neck, savoring the moment for longer than she should. She had wanted a kiss for so long. How was she supposed to concentrate on her fight now that Steve had kissed her like this? 

"Steve Rogers, that better not be a goodbye kiss!" she called. 

She watched him go and then continued to blast her way through Schmidt's henchman and neutralize the plane as best they could. One threat at a time, and then they could take out Red Skull, end the war, and save the world.

Steve

"Wouldn't dream of it!" Steve called back as he rushed off to find Schmidt.

Battling his way through HYDRA operatives, Steve finally made his way to the cockpit where the Red Skull was waiting for him.

Peggy

By the time Peggy found her way to the cockpit, Red Skull was gone, and there was a gaping hole in the floor. "STEVE!" she screamed, and held on to something. "Are you here? Are you alright?" The plane lurched and took a dive and she yelped.

Steve

Everything he'd just seen was too much for him to handle, but when he heard her scream his name he snapped out of it.

"Peggy!" Tearing himself away from the hole in the floor he grabbed the controls and pulled back to level out. The damn thing was on auto pilot so as long as he kept it level, they'd be alright.

"I'm here, Schmidt's dead!"

Peggy

"Steve!" she yelped again and pulled herself across the perimeter of the room, staying as far away from the hole as she could. "That hole...it goes all the way through." 

She reached the Captain's chair, her Captain's side, and held on. "He's dead, and now what? Can we turn this thing around...or?" Or were they going to crash? Were they losing fuel?  Did they have radio navigation? 

"Get Howard on the line, he'll know what to do."

Steve

"It's moving too fast, and it's headed for New York." Steve said, reaching for the radio.

"Can you fly this thing?" If she could keep the plane steady he could deal with Howard.

"Keep it steady."

Peggy

“Fly this *thing?”* Peggy gasped. “You want me to fly a plane?” She climbed into the copilot’s chair. “Steve, I…I can’t. I’ll try, but I can’t.” She reached for the controls, and the buttons indeed were all in German. 

Howard would know what to do; he’d find them a safe place to land. She nodded, and tried her best to keep the plane as steady as she could.

Steve

"Just keep it steady, Peg." Steve said grabbing the radio's handset and silently praying Howard would know what to do. It was Jim Morita on the line at first but after Steve explained that he was on the Valkyrie with Agent Carter and they needed to talk to Howard right now, there was a scramble on the other end of the line. It felt like forever before Howard's voice came through the speaker asking what was happening.

Peggy

Peggy nodded and did her best. After some trial and error, she managed to keep the  plane *steady * as Steve directed. She listened to Jim and Howard's conversation. 

"We'll find you a safe landing site," Howard said. 

Peggy yelped as the plane lost more altitude and dipped. There wasn't going to be a safe landing. 

"Howard, follow our path, you'll find us..." Peggy called. That's what radios were for, right? If there was anything left to find, that is. She turned to Steve.  "Steve, *help me*, please, my darling.  I can't..."

#thread: frozen together

[redvanillabee]

I told myself I would ask whoever posted the next Agent Carter stuff on my dash a head cannon question.

It was you!

So, do you have any thoughts about Howards background, how Howard met Jarvis (I know we know some of the story, but it feels incomplete to me), and/or how Howard relates to the rest of the commandos that we dont usually see him have interactions with?

Sorry I left this gathering dust in my ask box!

So...generally speaking, I think the Howlies started off keeping their distance. They're in the middle of a war, what is an eccentric billionaire whose best hits include a dysfunctional flying car (and murder gas, and burning vest, etc.) doing in their bunker?

Bucky is the first to spend extended periods of time around Howard, purely by association. My headcanon is that Steve spends his time in Howard's lab (when he's not being pulled every which way, or when he's not busy looking at Peggy from afar like a lost puppy) both to escape the madness of the bunker and to test out the various Captain America Gears. So Bucky ends up spending a lot of time there too, and he likes to contribute ideas while never letting Howard live down his failed flying car demo.

Dugan and Gabe are friendly enough with Howard. They spend a little bit of time with Howard testing out new equipment, but they never got too close. In the Agent Carter one-shot we do see Dugan eventually becoming close enough with Howard to casually lounge at his pool. I guess some time after Steve's 'death' and the events of Agent Carter S1, Dugan hit up Howard to (a) tell him to please keep a closer eye on his inventions and keeping it in his pants jeez, and (b) check on Peggy. Their shared love for good bourbon is what gave them the opening to become better friends.

Morita and Dernier spend the most time with Howard in his lab. Morita is mostly there because he likes to tinker, and he sometimes compares notes with Howard, which is fun. But Dernier. He has a lot of thoughts about explosives and ordinances, and he will make sure Howard hears about them. And Howard also has a lot of ideas on why and why wouldn't they work, and he needs Dernier to understand that. Thing is...Howard doesn't speak French, and Dernier's English isn't the most fluent. It's not rare to hear loud arguments and angry French from the lab, and Howard and Dernier will never say they are friends, but these two get on like a house on fire, sometimes literally.

#answers #everyhazyday #howling commandos #howard stark #headcanon #my stuff