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the-soot-sprite · 3 hours ago
💗 Send this to the 12 nicest people you know or who seem to have a good heart and if you get 5 back you must be pretty awesome 🌿✨ 💓💝💖💓💝💗💝💓💖💖💓💗
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You are the sweetest @anika-ann !!!
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anika-ann · 3 days ago
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Not me writing when I’m supposed to study.
Not me writing a 2k fluff scene before an actions scene because dammit I suck at writing action scenes and I. Don’t. Wanna 😂
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Warning: briefest mention of a panic attack and shooting, fluff overdose in 200 words
-
It finally dawned to you that it was all for your benefit, it was all him trying hard to keep you out of the panic mode he had witnessed you in when you remembered the first shooting. Hell, his presence to begin with – he had decided to come with you after you had a brief panic attack.
You didn’t think you could fall deeper into the pit of being hopelessly in love with him, but here you were, again, your heart filled to the brim with affection, overflowing even.
You leaned closer to him, whispering as low as you could, because you wanted this thank you to be his alone.
“Thank you.”
“My pleasure,” he hummed casually – and you knew that he wasn’t hearing what you were saying.
Looking him straight in the eye, you mustered all emotion you could and tried to tell him again. Because this was important.
“No, Steve… thank you.”
This time, you could tell by the blush that creeped up his neck and cheeks, the lowered gaze and his shoulders slumping, that you succeeded and he knew you saw right through him.
“Anything for you, babygirl,” he whispered for your ear only. “Anything for you.”
-
Not me trying to lure you in for the Attached x Chuck crossover without revealing fully what it’s about 😂
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anika-ann · 5 days ago
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No Strings Attached (sneak peek) no.2
(No.1) (Attached masterlist)
Pairing: Professor Steve Rogers x reader    Word Count: 700
Warnings: swearing, FLUFF
I miss my babies and I have barely any time (or mental capacity) to write these days... but I want to share a sappy moment from the upcoming Attached x Chuck series No Strings Attached... if you’re interested.  (Also, if you watched Chuck, ou might know what’s up :D)
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⊱-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦ ✉ ◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-⊰
You woke up with a startle; some shuffling and a click of a drawer made your snap eyes open and follow the sound. Steve’s back welcomed you as he was fishing out something hidden to your sight.
What time was it? What day was it? Why had you been you sleeping when Steve looked like he just got home from work? Why didn’t he wake you?
…hold on. It was Tuesday and there were those Ministry people at the uni and the strange test and you got the splitting headache--- what time was it that Steve was already home?
You groaned when you noticed the drawn curtains, last sunrays peeking through and colouring the sky. Jesus. Had you slept through the majority of the day?!
“Babygirl?” Steve’s voice reached your ears and your head whipped back to him automatically, thanking heavens when your temples didn’t throb with the sudden movement.
He placed the socks on top of the drawer, making his way to you, concern drawing his brows together, creating those lovely worried wrinkles on his forehead.
“Uh-huh?” you hummed as you sat up, once again pleasantly surprised that the world wasn’t swimming in front of your eyes, no blurred vision, nothing.
Aside from feeling sleepy, you were… fine. Which was kinda strange, but you weren’t about to complain.
Sitting next to you on the bed, Steve gently sunk his fingers into your hair, dropping a sweet lingering kiss on your forehead. Lips never leaving your skin, beard scratching lightly, they caressed your temples next; and you realized what was happening, your own lips curling up in a smile as pleasant warmth spread in your chest at Steve’s worry.
He was lowkey checking for fever.
“You’re not subtle,” you informed him, both amused and touched.
His words vibrated against your skin as his mouth moved a bit higher again, thumb caressing your cheekbone.
“Not trying to be. How do you feel?”
“How do you even know I wasn’t feeling good?”
He withdrew a little – not before he dropped a cheeky kiss on your nose – raising a challenging eyebrow.
“Ibuprofen on the table and you sleeping at five in the afternoon after only attending one class?” he offered with a smirk, but you weren’t fooled. It worried him. You weren’t a perfect student, but you rarely skipped class; especially Callahan’s class, because you immensely enjoyed it.
“Fair enough. Is it really five already?” you asked rhetorically, running a hand through your hair, catching Steve’s own and brushing the soft skin of his wrist with your lips; a silent thank you for fussing. He gave a brief smile, pulling you to his side, letting your head lull against his shoulder. “When did you come home?”
“Just a few minutes ago, unfortunately. Kept messing stuff up when I wanted to leave the office.”
Because I was worried, was left unspoken and you sighed, wrapping your arm around Steve’s stomach, drawing soothing circles on his side.
Steve was a mother hen; it wasn’t something that was widely known about him, but you had had several opportunities to experience it and you loved it… most of the time. Then again, it brought unnecessary concern to weight his shoulders down.
“I’m sorry, Stevie. How did you know? Did Bucky tell you something?” you wondered, faintly remembering his gaze having following you as you left.
“Linda Parson dropped by to tell me, actually.”
A snort escaped you and you laughed into Steve’s shoulder, fingers clutching his waist. You felt your cheeks warm up with both amusement and embarrassment when you recalled your last encounter with her.
“Was she able to look you in the eye?” you chuckled, causing Steve to retreat and watch you with puzzlement written all over his face.
“Not really-- how did you-?“
“I was kinda out of it. I’m pretty sure I told on you that you don’t usually sleep naked. And that we totally went at it before going to school today. And that your hair looks really good in the morning.”
Steve’s eyebrows gradually rose until they nearly got lost in his hairline. “Uhm… that would explain it. Also… thanks?”
“As if you didn’t know.”
One corner of his lips rose higher in appreciation and then he looked you in the eye, serious again. “How do you feel?”
...
-
May your days be fluffy and sappy. Thank you for your patience with this me :-*
Tagging:
@scentedsongrebel @patzammit​ @donutloverxo @annathesillyfriend  @orions-nebula @iheartsebastianstan @wxstedhexrt @kayteewritessteve, @pies-writes-and-more, @jessyballet, @chris-evans-indian-fanfic, @marvel-madnesss, @rainbowkisses31, @marvelous-capsicle, @irepostthingsiwanttoseelater, @thisartemisnevermisses, @thehumanistsdiary , @katrynec @confusedsweetheart , @the-soot-sprite , @atomicsludgedonutbiscuit @captainson-of-coul  @rebloggingeverything  @lady-elena-adeline @wonderlandmind4  @weebid @crystalchrysalis19 @fandomlovver @natdrunk @gloryekaterina @callmeaspen @aubreeskailynn @chase-your-dreams-away
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anika-ann · 7 days ago
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Hell Froze Over - Pt.6
Hanging on a Thread
Type: mini-series to a series (part 1 & part 2 & part 3 & part 4),  Avenger!reader AU.
Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader       Word count: 3600
Summary: There’s a new enhanced on a scene, showing up at places of the Avengers’ fights. She’s fast. Really, really fast.
Steve’s been hit and it’s not pretty. At all. In fact, he might be fighting for his life.
Warnings: violence, blood, pretty ugly wound, medical procedues, mention of death, language
A/N: Sorry for the delay, but you know it, life gets in the way...
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Previous part
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You found Steve on the ground, lying on his side – curled up into himself. Minus the helmet, of course, because this was Steve and he always lost him helmet in a fight. His scream faded into silence as he gritted his teeth, eyes squeezed shut, face twisted in a grimace that could only mean agony.
You scanned your surroundings as you sprang Steve’s direction, finding a smirking man with heavy weapon resembling a flame-thrower in his hands. You wished you a flame-thrower yourself; but at least you had your ice and you were gonna freeze his damn hands off—
Before you could send the bastard to hell yourself, his smile froze and blood emerged from his mouth.
You didn’t care who you had to thank for that, simply grateful you could kneel beside Steve’s crumpled form. He looked like he wanted to clutch his upper arm he was lying on, so you assumed that was the point of impact of whatever that son of a bitch hit him with.
“Steve-“
Your hand barely made contact with his healthy arm when his eyes snapped open, pools of blue misted with pain and panic staring at you.
“Don’t touch me!” he strained through his teeth, jerking out of your hold instantly. With your heart leaping to your throat, you quickly raised your hand, alarmed you had caused him more pain.
Your eyes widened in horror as he rolled over and you saw the black stain – which wasn’t a stain. Whatever was in that gun, it seemed to burn through Steve armour, turning everything it reached to black. And it looked like it was… spreading, angry tentacles of darkness as if swallowing up the tissue. Your stomach made a somersault, bile rising to your mouth.
You were suddenly sure what Steve meant was ‘don’t touch it’. It looked as if the substance was climbing up his arm. Very slowly, but very effectively and clearly very painfully.
Steve didn’t want you to touch it, because rightfully worried in might spread on you as well. The protectiveness would be endearing if it wasn’t s fucking terrifying.
“Oh my god- SAM!” you yelled as you touched your earpiece.  “I need you to pick up Steve and get him to the quinjet, right now. I’m taking him to Bruce.”
“On my way,” Sam replying almost instantly. “What’s wrong?”
You gulped, terror eating you alive just like the bioweapon(?!) that was creeping up Steve’s arm.
“I have no fucking clue,” you choked out, realizing your vision was clouding with tears. You quickly blinked them away, knowing there would be time for that later. You needed to act. FAST.
Sam landed a few feet from you, running to your side before you could say more.
“Steve, we’re gonna get you to Bruce, okay? Sam’s gonna have to touch you-“ you informed him gently, your voice shaking.
“No!” Steve panted, sweat breaking out on his forehead as he clenched his teeth again and shook his head wildly. “Can’t touch the-“
“Yeah, I kinda got that, let’s hope we can avoid that,” you hissed, making space for you friend.
“Jesus shit, what is that?!” Sam cried out, bending to Steve to grab him.
“Don’t know, wouldn’t touch it if I were you.”
As soon as Sam had Steve, you sprinted to the quinjet, before realizing that you had to go faster.
You created a thick layer of ice for you to jump on and slide the rest of the way. You almost made it before Sam. Almost. Sam managed to drag Steve’s now barely conscious ass to the tiny jets prepared for the rainy days. Oh, now was definitely pouring.
You slipped to the pilot seat, starting the engines, trusting Sam to secure Steve in the stretcher or anywhere really.
“Go, Frosty. We got this,” Sam just threw over his shoulder before jumping straight back into the fight, covering you so you could take off.
Unable to voice your gratitude, a string of barely audible curses left your mouth even as you managed to get the jet to the air.
Steve’s body was trying to fight shit you knew nothing about, clearly was running out of time and it was up to you to save him – or rather deliver him to someone who could know a lot more than you did.
“Goddammit--- shit. This isn’t familiar at all.”
────── ·❆· ──────  
Bruce was waiting for you with Doctor Cho in the room already since you had brought him up to speed during the flight. It also meant Clint was sent back to the battle instead of you and Steve, leaving Katie pretty much unsupervised. But frankly, you had more pressing problems than keeping an eye on a teenager, no matter how powerful she was.
Two paramedics plus Katie were on the roof, going for Steve as soon as you touched the ground, moving him to a stretcher and speeding into medical. You and Katie were in their tow, the girl letting you keep up with her despite the fact she could rush in before you could do as much as blink your eye.
Her face seemed drained of all blood; you imagined yours was the same.
Bruce didn’t try to stop you entering the operating room. He already had Steve attached to a heart monitor, a blood sample analysis running as well as one for the still expanding substance and he was hovering with Cho over Steve’s body, dressed up in what looked like modified scrubs and thick gloves you haven’t seen before.
“Do you any idea what this is?” you threw on him, a distracted shake of his head being your only response. Your ribcage felt tighter at that, your lungs as if squeezed in a vice.
“I was about to ask you the same thing. Where did this come from?”
Your eyes frantically roamed over Steve’s form, wincing with each movement of his body. He was out, but his muscles were spasming occasionally and seemingly randomly. The upper half of his suit was stripped, and god, the sight of him made you break into tears.
The black substance climbed up his shoulder now – heading towards his heart and jugular. You had a distant feeling that if it reached either of those places, there would be no coming back.
There had to be a way to stop it--- but you were being no help. You needed to get your shit together, even if it felt like your world was falling apart, breaths coming off shorter and shorter.
“I don’t know, they--- just shot him with this-- this weird gun-“ you stuttered, ignoring your voice breaking.
When Steve’s back arched and the heart monitor let out a high-pitched long beep out lasting several seconds, you were sure your own heart stopped.
You covered your mouth with your hand, shocked at the cold feeling on your lips – your abilities reacted to your emotions involuntarily, out of control.
The realization hit you like a train.
“What if I cool it again?!” you blurted out, already springing forward. ”The substance! Like with the anti-serum? That could it stop it from spreading at least, maybe?”
Bruce shot you a look, quickly making space for you. You dashed into his place, your hands hovering above Steve’s arm.
“Come on, come on…” you murmured, not caring your hands were shaking. Just let the cold do its job… You knew this. You hate using your powers on Steve, but sometimes, they could help heal instead of hurting. You felt the energy surging, forcing your breathing to calm.
You could feel three extra pairs of eyes watching your doing, but you didn’t care. All you could do was to stare at the wound, laser focused on how it reacted.
Except it didn’t react at all. The substance not only it didn’t shrink from the icy cold – it actually kept happily sprouting towards Steve’s vital organs as if you weren’t even trying. A wave of nausea hit you, a fist of panic blinding squeezing your heart.
Gritting your teeth, you pressed harder, feeling the exhaustion that was cumulating since the fight creeping up your spine.
Oh, wonderful, because that was just what you needed.
The heart monitor Steve was attached to screamed again and you retreated your hands in horror of pushing it to far.
“Why isn’t it stopping?! Why isn’t it working?!” you shouted, tears sprouting from your eyes in waterfalls now, your voice cracking as you couldn’t seem to breathe in. “Bruce?”
The scientist moved to Steve’s side, probing the strange substance with a long needle – the black thing started climbing at it in an instant, making him to drop it.  
“I don’t know! Clearly it’s some sort of a bioweapon and—I don’t know, okay? It could be bacterial-- bacteria are very hardy, surviving in terrible conditions, but there’s no way they should reproduce this fast-“
Hardy, he said? Alright, you could test that. At this point, you didn’t care if Steve was about to lose his arm to a brutal frostbite. You aimed your powers towards the black hole eating his limb up, gritting your teeth.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, come on-“
Pain cut along your spine as a knife through butter with your effort, yet the spreading didn’t even waver. You let out a yell of frustration and agony.
Come on. Steve, you have a fucking super-serum in you! Fight it!
The fresh sting of pain had you double over and forced you to your knees this time, making you scream and lose the focus completely as well as the contact. Your powers shut down.
“F-frosty?” a tiny and very terrified voice addressed you. “What’s happening?”
Katie. You honestly forgot she was here.
Your glanced up at her absently, your mind fully with Steve and drowning in desperation.
Only for your eyes to widen in shock when seeing her – and no, it was not because of the tears staining her face, no. It was-- what the hell?
What the actual fuck?
“You’re— are you—becoming transparent?” you choked out, trying to stand up to try to help Steve again, because while you were utterly confused and horrified at what you were seeing happening with Katie, you had zero idea how to help her either. The Steve situation was a bit familiar at least. Katie was…she appeared to be turning into shadow.
And in a way, so was Steve.
Sure, lose two people in one day, why don’t you…
“I— I don’t know. It’s…---“ There was a short pause, only interrupted by Bruce mumbling something to Doctor Cho. A look of pure terror appeared on the Katie’s face along with what appeared to be a realization. You didn’t know where to look first. “Oh my god, no. No, no, no, that can’t be happening! We have to do something!”
Yeah, no fucking shit.
The look on Katie’s face sent chill through your veins, but Steve was dying right here.
Your fiancé was momentarily lying on an operation table, and the girl who appeared out of nowhere was literally disappearing into nowhere, and your powers were completely useless. You had no fucking clue what to do.
You were watching an attempt on surgery almost breathless, but now you were hyperventilating, your mind frantic, one thought melting into another. You noticed the walls of the operation room started covering in ice.
Shit. How is that possible when my powers shut down?
Or were you powered up again?
It sure felt like you were. And Bruce noticed the haywire manifestation of your abilities as well.
“Whoa, whoa! Hey, he’s gonna be okay, he has to be okay, otherwise--- well, just- calm down!” he yelled.
Somehow, he didn’t sound so convincing since his gloved hands were covered in the strange substance mixing with blood.
You ran your fingers through your hair, desperately trying to take a hold of your powers at least. But tears of helplessness were gathering in your eyes instead and you felt like you were about to explode. The frantic beeping of heart monitor was screaming in your ears.
You covered them, but it didn’t do a thing.
“I’m not helping, dammit, dammit-“
Feeling the weakness in your knees, you gave in once more, crumbling to the floor as a pile of misery, your hand moving over your mouth. You bit into the flesh to prevent yourself from screaming.
No, no, no, please, not Steve-
“Hey, hey, it’s not your fault— if… if it’s anyone’s fault, then it’s mine. I… I shouldn’t have been here, I held Clint behind and-- I messed everything up and now he- he’s“
You shook your head rapidly at Katie’s words that sounded as if coming from a terrible distance. She lowered herself to your level, her serious eyes swimming in tears. The sincerity in her eyes broke your heart all over again. She was disappearing and yet, she was here, concerned for you.
She might be keeping secrets from you, but she was a good person.
The words were spilling from your mouth on autopilot.
“That’s not on you. He’s so strong, it’s next to impossible to imagine something might hurt him, and every time something happens to him, it’s like I just--- freeze. I’m completely useless. Fuck, goddammit-”
Katie’s lips parted, a shock exhale leaving her mouth. “Oh my god! You’re brilliant!”
“What?” you creaked, not following at all and shit you just wanted to understand one fucking thing so you could do something about it-
“I need to freeze him.”
Your brows furrowed in confusion, at complete loss as to what made her so happy. And freeze?
“What— what are you talking about? You-“
“It’s not the cold he needs. He needs time so we could figure it-- u— Bruce? What do you think?” the girl snapped her head to the doctor, earning a short glance before he returned to uselessly hover over Steve, but clearly considering her words.
“Wait, what? What are— Bruce?” you breathed out, completely at loss. Did he know what she was talking about?
“Might work. Worth a shot. Can you even do something now, when you’re… you know?”
Katie just shrugged, more tears dampening her cheeks as she pushed herself to her feet. She gulped, suddenly nervous.
“Worth a shot,” she parroted dully, sounding exhausted. Then she extended her hand to Steve’s leg, her almost transparent fingers twitching.
The heart monitor fell silent.
You jumped to your feet, ignoring the vertigo it caused you, and gripped her arm to immediately pull her away.
“What the hell did you do?!”
“HEY! It’s okay. She can… stop time. Sort of. It’s not gonna hurt him,” Bruce cried out, sounding half-guilty, half-hopeful and you honestly wanted to scream and never stop.
What the hell was he talking about? Katie could stop time? What did that even mean? And how would he know?!
“What? And you know that how?”
Bruce swallowed loudly into the silence of the room, shaking his head.
“We’ll have time for that later,” he dismissed your questions, turning to his colleague. “Doctor Cho? Let’s get to work.”
Stumbling backwards, you felt your tears falling freely.
There was nothing you could do, only watch. The heart monitor had been disconnected so it wouldn’t stress you, but to be honest, you didn’t give a shit. You felt bile climbing up to your mouth several times, you had your hands in your hair, gripping harsher with each minute that passed, and then you had no tears left. Katie was just standing there, watching Steve with intensity, her hand on his shin as if she was… doing god knew what.
To add insult to the injury, Bruce seemed unconcerned by the fact he was possibly performing surgery and scraping tissue from a corp- no, nope.
The only good news were that the substance was frozen in time too – and you were all shocked to find out that the substance didn’t fought its way too deep.
But hell if you understood shit of what was happening here.
“I’m not fading anymore,” Katie whispered, astounded, the sentence making you shift your gaze to her. She let out an incredulous chuckle.
Bruce’s eyes looked her up and down shortly before returning to whatever he was doing. Katie watched her hands with disbelief, a delighted smile painted on her lips.
“I’m back! He’s-“ She laughed again, looking at you with her eyes twinkling in happiness while Bruce re-attached the sensors for monitoring Steve’s heartbeat.
“I think you can let go,” he said then and Katie was still laughing, releasing Steve from the whatever state he had been in.
The strange murderous substance was all gone in a dark reinforced container, a beeping of heart monitor filling the room and… and after few initial stumbles, it sounded normal. Perfectly normal.
Your feet acted on their own, carrying you to the man on the table. Katie stepped back, staring at her hands and you reached for Steve’s own, being ninety percent sure he would resolve into thin air if you touched him. But he didn’t.
You huffed out a hysterical laugh, watching his chest rise and fall several times before glancing at Katie, the tears gathering in your eyes ones of happiness.
“He’s gonna be okay,” the girl repeated with delightful certainty, her eyes shining.
You didn’t understand what, how, why-- but in your heart, you knew she was right. And her body truly was back to itself as well. She wasn’t transparent anymore – and your overwhelmed mind started racing.
Had… using her powers helped her body to recover? But it should be the other way around, shouldn’t it?  In your experience, powers could be a gift, but they always came with a price— and how the hell did Bruce even know about her other ability?
How – and that was the most important question, really, the one which was the hardest to wrap your head around – how had helping Steve seemed to help Katie as well? How could these two actions be connected?
How could the two people could be connected?
The absurd idea hit you like a ton of bricks.
With your vision was blurry with the tears of relief, your head spinning, you looked at Katie, really looked at her for the first time. Her features, her eyes, her long blond hair. The way she smiled sometimes, the way she had been watching Steve, watching your every move with admiration. Her fast everything. Her, freezing people.
Her abilities causing her problems with thermoregulation.
Her, starting to fade simultaneously with Steve’s life hanging on a thread and miraculously stopping when he got saved. Her blood results turning the way they had – not finding any match in the DNA database.
There was only one explanation, as crazy as any other, yet the only one making sense.
You barely registered when she threw her arms around you, resting her chin on your shoulder, squeezing you tightly. She nuzzled her face in your hair, inhaling deeply, breathing out shakily, her tears dampening your already water-dripping suit – the memory of the battle that had gotten you soaked had been pushed to the back of your mind, making space for much more important issues.
Much more important realization.
Katie wasn’t from this world. She wasn’t from this time.
The undeniable truth dawned to you with a wave of numbness, your brain too stunned to react. You automatically wrapped your arms around her, suddenly not feeling a thing.
“I did it! We did it!” she whispered excitedly, her voice shaking with emotions and you only nodded, unable to say a word.
You were standing there as Bruce attached a blood-bag to Steve’s i.v. before moving him to the recovery room. You only managed to stare at him and Doctor Cho cleaning up. And then Cho left the room with Bruce on her tail again and you finally snapped from your shock.
“Bruce! Stay,” you ordered stiffly, slowly letting go of Katie, and he stopped dead in his tracks at your tone.
He cursed under his breath, reluctantly meeting your eye. You reciprocated his gaze with insistence, the last waver of doubt vaporizing into thin air. Releasing him form the cage of your glare, you took Katie’s face into your hands, examining the girl who only managed to blink in surprise at your actions.
You were right. There was no way you were wrong about this, no matter how insane it was.
“We need to talk. All of us.”
Katie’s lips parted when she saw the change in your expression. She knew something was different, the way you were staring at her now… despite the mess you felt you were, you knew you were looking at her with much more affection than just few minutes ago. Was it because you were grateful? Sure, she just saved your future husband. But that wasn’t the only reason.
“O-okay. Why don’t we change first?” Bruce offered, probably glaring at your still wet clothes and gesturing toward his own outfit. You wouldn’t know, because your eyes weren’t on him.
You still held Katie’s gaze. Her eyes were wide and glassy and you couldn’t quite process you were seeing your own eyes, the sight too much and yet not enough.
Your focus shifted towards the freaking necklace she wore. A snowflake. How much more obvious it could have been?
“Good idea. But then you two,” you gestured between them pointedly, breathless, “are gonna tell me everything.”
────── ·❆· ──────  
It only took you few minutes, your body running on autopilot; you were in the room you had agreed to meet in in no time, both Bruce and Katie already waiting, exchanging nervous glances. You nodded to yourself, wondering how you could even start – how could you even bring this crazy topic up.
The answer was that you wouldn’t. They would.
That or you were about to be proclaimed insane, except that you were scarily certain that you were right.
“FRIDAY, privacy protocol,” you requested, voice trembling. “Now. You two, sit and start talking.”
────── ·❆· ──────  
Part 7
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Dun, dun, dun. But hey, looks like Steve survives after all…
I just love dropping random bits from TV series. I admit it. When writing this chapter, I remembered Charmed (the original series, ya’ know, the Halliwel sisters) and mainly Chris Halliwel, when he travels back in time and is almost erased from existence; when Piper and Leo find themselves in the Ghostly Plane. And he’s fading until they…uhm, yeah, do that. But I might as well be a dinosaur, so you possibly didn’t see any similarity. Never mind 😅
Thoughts? Either coherent or incoherent, both are very welcomed ;)
Thank you for reading! 
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This is my submission for @anika-ann 1111 followers challenge
Prompt: Mistaken identity
Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader
Word count: 1470
Summary: You agree to go on a blind date for the first time in your life, is it really a good idea or you’ll regret it?
Warnings: tons of fluff, second hand embarrassment, mentions of anxiety, Steve Rogers behaving like Prince Charming.
Dividers by @firefly-graphics
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As you approach the restaurant you start thinking about whether this was a good idea.
A blind date, with a guy you never met and didn’t know what he looked like, hell, you didn’t even know his last name.
There were so many ways this could end up being an awful night for you.
The date was set to be in a small restaurant, nothing too special.
The place looked kinda old school but you didn’t mind, it wasn’t exactly the place you would have picked for a date and you immediately started feeling overdressed as soon as you stepped in.
The light blue lace dress you decided to wear and the most uncomfortable heels combined with your anxiety were a lethal combo.
You were awfully stressed out, and what do you usually do when you feel like that?
You RAMBLE.
So when you started looking around the restaurant tables and saw the guy who’s supposed to be your date, you panicked.
And not about your outfit.
More specifically because the guy who was sitting alone at the table waiting for you had got to be the most beautiful man you ever saw in your life.
With a face that seemed crafted by a sculptor, blonde hair that looked incredibly soft and (very) broad shoulders covered by a shirt that was way too small for him.
He didn’t notice you approaching his table cause he was busy drawing something on a napkin, you couldn’t help notice his pretty full lips and his big hands and ask yourself if he was holding a very small pencil or his hands were really that big.
For a second you thought about turning around and leaving cause there’s no way this date won’t end up in humiliation and rejection on your part.
This guy is so out of your league you two don’t even look like you're from the same species. He gotta be a god or something.
You’re almost about to turn away when he raised his head and looked straight at you.
And, oh boy, if you were nervous before, now things were even worse.
Can you imagine the colour of the ocean?
The one you see on documentaries about the Carribeans or other beautiful exotic islands?
Yep, that was the colour of his eyes.
Blue, beautiful, kind eyes that now were looking at you with curiosity.
So, what were we saying?
We ramble when we get nervous?
Yeah.
That’s why you started behaving like an idiot even before introducing yourself to the guy.
“Hi, I’m so sorry I’m late, have you been waiting for a long time? God, I hope not. I think I got your directions wrong and I got out at the wrong underground station, so I had to walk for a while and I couldn’t go faster because of these awful shoes and I’m really really sorry, I can totally understand if you want to reschedule or just cancel the entire thing…” you started venting and kinda hyperventilating without realising it.
“Ok ok, hey please relax, have a seat, are you ok?” he said while looking at you concerned.
“Ehm, y-yeah.” You said almost breathless.
“Here, have some water, you’ll feel a bit better.” he said while pouring some water in a glass and handing it to you.
“Thank you.” you replied while sipping some fresh water, you started feeling a bit better already.
“What’s your name?” He kindly asked.
“I’m Y/N.”
“I’m Steve.”
“Wait, Steve? My friend told me your name was Paul.”
“Who’s Paul?” He looked at you with confusion written all over his face.
“You are Paul! The guy i’m supposed to have dinner with and OH MY GOD...did I mistake you for someone else?”
Steve nodded while half smiling.
“Oh my god, I’m such a mess!” You said while hiding your face behind your hands, this was even more embarrassing, not only you acted like a fool in front of this hot guy, you also probably ruined his dinner.
You immediately picked up your phone from your purse and saw a message from Paul saying that he was sorry but he changed his mind and this blind date was not a good idea. He probably sent that while you were on the train so you didn’t see it.
A million of feelings washed over you.
Humiliation.
Rejection.
Embarrassment.
You so wanted to run home and hide in your room forever.
But first, you had to apologise to the (probably) annoyed guy you had in front of you. What you didn’t expect when you raised your head and looked at him, was to see him being not annoyed at all but genuinely concerned.
“Is everything ok?” he asked again.
“Yeah, yeah, he...he couldn’t come, he just texted me…” you replied on the verge of tears.
He probably noticed because he frowned a little and clenched his jaw.
“Hang on a second, did he just text you now saying he wasn’t coming?”
“Yeah” you replied feeling even more humiliated.
“So, not only this guy asks you out, then doesn’t even have the decency to come and get you home and makes you come all the way here alone on a train, he ALSO doesn’t show up?! WHAT AN ASSHOLE.”
Ok, NOW Steve looked annoyed, angry even.
Great, now you definitely ruined his evening.
“I’m so SO sorry Steve, I'm gonna go back home now, I've disrupted your evening enough.”
As you were about to get up from you seat he quickly got up too and said:
“No no no, you didn’t disrupt anything! I was supposed to meet my best friend for dinner but he didn’t show up and I hate eating on my own...so, I mean, if you want...only IF you want, would you like to keep me company and have dinner with me? I mean we gotta eat something right?” He asked while scratching nervously his neck and only now you noticed how he was slightly blushing.
Why was he the one being nervous now?!
God was this guy even real?
You thought about it for a second and, well, it was late and you were tired and hungry, so having dinner with a sweet guy now didn't sound that bad.
You knew he was just being kind and probably took pity on you, but in the end, it was just dinner right?
“Ok Steve, yeah I’d love to, thank you.”
“No, thank YOU.” he replied, flashing you a million dollar smile.
“Here, order whatever you want.” he gave you a menu you shily picked up with shaking hands.
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That evening you spent in Steve’s company was the most delightful you’ve ever experienced, he made you forget about Paul and the fact that you were stood up.
It made you forget about the dress and the uncomfortable shoes you were wearing.
Literally, cause when you left the restaurant and you both noticed it was raining he effortlessly picked you up bridal style and didn’t let you go until you were sitting safely in the passenger seat of his car.
He insisted on driving you home cause there’s no way he’d let you walk all the way back on your own so late at night.
When you both walked to your front door he shily handed you the restaurant napkin where he drew some beautiful flowers and wrote his number.
You walked into your house that night with a big smile and feeling butterflies in your stomach thinking that, well, maybe blind dates were not such a bad thing.
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Bonus:
STEVE’S POV
When he saw you that evening for the first time, all worried and anxious, he panicked and wished immediately that Bucky wasn’t late for their dinner.
Bucky would know what to say to you.
While Steve, well, he’s not good with women.
He gets nervous and acts like an idiot.
Especially in front of the ones that are beautiful.
And boy, you were a vision.
Now, as he watches you walking inside your house, he hopes he managed to not look like a fool and made you spend a nice evening.
Especially he hopes you forgot about the other guy and maybe will call him instead.
As soon as he steps into his apartment his phone dings and he sees two texts:
From Y/N
“Thank you so much for being the most perfect Prince Charming tonight, I hope we’ll do that again sometime.
Goodnight xxx Y/N”
From Bucky
“Sorry I was late tonight punk.
I did get to the restaurant at some point but saw you chatting with a cute girl so, after doing a double check and being sure it was you (good job really), I decided to leave you two alone.
PS. Don’t be an idiot and ask her out again.”
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Started from the bottom:
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Now we’re here:
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It’s all your fault @anika-ann 😂😂🤣🤣💕💕
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anika-ann · 11 days ago
um, hi👉👈so, i think that you’re the absolute queen of fluff, i melt everytime i read any of your fics, but my favorite must be Grease and Pearls (Attached is close behind and like, all of your fics, really)...Grease and Pearls is so soft and I just can’t with those two...the way Steve would bend over backwards to make and keep reader happy🥺like, I can feel he’d do everything what her heart desires and vise versa (they both left everything behind just so they could be together after all)..and, well, because of my love for this lovestory, i was wondering if you would consider revisit them?🥺i know it’s a lot to ask, but i’m dying to know what their life’s like now...did Steve open his shop? did he try being a street sketcher (or sth like that lol idk the term) and then get an opportunity to go to art school after all? and what about reader? did she become a teacher? a tutor? a waitress?? or something completely different? what about her relationship with Nat? did she take her under her wing? and what about her dream about having babies?🥺did she talk to Steve about it? was she shy to bring it up? scared even? or did Pietro’s words to Steve about having babies didn’t leave his mind and it was Steve who asked first if she wanted to have family with him??? i am so so sorry to bother you with this but as I said, i adore this story and i never get bored rereading it for the n-th time..and i don’t mean to pressure you, but it would make me like the happiest person if you could reveal how their life continued🥺but i understand if you don’t want to, you can ignore this message and i won’t be mad, promise... i love you and your stories, Ann!❤️
Uhm.... hi? 🥺  
This is such a sweet ask I can’t😭
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This is NOT a bother at all. This is one of the nicest asks about a continuation of a fic I’ve ever seen
I’m delighted to hear that you’re enjyoing my stories! Hopefully the fluff is making your days better 🥰 Because you made like ym whole week 🥰🥺
And my, my, Grease and Pearls... it feels so long ago! Which is one of the reasons why I don’t think I will write more (also because there was never supposed to be a happy ending in the first place 😅). But. I LOVED writing it and Steve was the sweetest whenever it came to his updown girl and she did leave everything behind for him and-- you got me thinking.
So. My messy thoughts (IS THIS A HEADCANON):
warning: brief mention of smut
Love is great and all that and they fell really hard and fast for each other– they DID leave together after all.
But it isn’t exactly easy. She doesn’t have any experience with being a tutor and has no name in the area, no recommendations, which is why I believe she wouldn’t find the job she truly wants, so she would settle for the waitressing instead, supportive of Steve.
Steve obviously can’t open a shop right away, he too needs to save money for them, so he just finds another shop to work at, postponing his dreams – both art school ones and shop ones.
He however hates that she works as a waitress. It’s not that she can’t handle work – it’s the company she has to keep, the customers. His sweet girl doesn’t deserve assholes pawing at her, even if she’s always polite about it. He almost starts a fight right there when he comes in one day and notices some jerk trying to touch her ass. She deserves so much more. So he takes extra shifts. They are barely together at that point.
Natasha notices, because it’s hard not to. And frankly, she gives Steve a piece of her mind, because Steve’s girl doesn’t know what is happening between them too scared to address it, too scared Steve would walk away.
Natasha confronts Steve, while he has no idea she’s in the other room and he practically yells at her that he’s just doing it for his fiancé, because he hates what she has to deal with every day. The look on horror on his face when his fiancé walks out of the room is priceless – but more importantly, the two lovebirds are able to talk it out and Natasha clears the space, knowing for sure there’s be some make-up smooching. She’s right.
But. Their story so far had a happy ending and it does come when on a random afternoon, a nicely dressed girl around 13 walks into the diner, instantly caching everyone’s attention. And Steve’s girl worries about what the hell is a kid like her (she’s certainly seeing a lot of herself, this girl is very uptown), so she takes her under her wing and chats with her and actually tells her some fun facts she knows from when she had her private tutors and---
The next day the girl is back. With her mother.  
“My daughter says you were the only person who ever made boring facts fun. And that you’re incredibly smart. Are you? Because if you are, I’d like to hire you to be her private teacher.”
Yes, it sounds like a dream except that the mother is extremely arrogant about it, but—it works. Steve’s girl accepts the offer, the kid loves her and word gets around and she can leave the diner.
Steve might sport a little bit of hurt ego, because she makes more money than him, but he’s trying his best to be supportive – and it’s easy, because she never lets him feel like he’s something less and what’s his is hers. He stays working in the shop for a while, working on a secret project on side.
The day of their two-year anniversary, she hands him a voucher for evening lessons for drawing. He hands her the key to a little appartement he found, cheap and in need of reconstruction, which he has started working on with some of his friends from the shop. Their own space.
They both cry. A lot. And they totally christen the floor of the apartment the very same night. Unbeknownst to them, they make a child that night.
Do I need to say more?
Maybe Steve end up opening his own shop. Maybe he prefers loving on his girls, spending time with them, because tight money is better than having too little time on them. He loves teaching his little girl draw – then again, he adores her as much as he adores his wife.
And when baby two is on its way? He just knows that he’s the luckiest downtown guy to ever live.
I know it’s not tha same as if I wrote the fic, but I hope this will make you smile at least a bit 😊
Thank you so so much for reaching out so kindly and have a lovely day/night❤️✨
-
Grease and Pearls (S.R. x reader)
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anika-ann · 21 days ago
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Attached: Word Is that We Might Work It Out
Type: Modern-college-professor AU - part of Attached series 
Pairing: professor!Steve Rogers x reader   Word count: 6850🙈
Summary: You said yes to Professor Rogers – Steve – taking you out for ‘coffee’. Ball’s in your court – and you decide to make your move. 
A date, maybe first of many, maybe not. A date with the gorgeous professor who happened to read your erotica about him. What could possibly go wrong? 
Warnings:  alcohol consumption, professor-student relationship and unspecified age gap, language, lots of fluff
A/N: Timeline-wise, this one-shot fits in after chapter four of Attached!!! At the end, you can find the reason behind me writing this. You can consider it one big flashback, if you will 😅 Gif by capchrisevaans.
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Series masterlist | previous in timeline
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You lasted one day. One full day since the encounter in the office, since Professor Rogers admitted he would like to take you out for coffee or something similar. Since you two exchanged numbers.
It took you twenty-four hours – maybe less – to decide that so what if that might be a bad idea. It was not against the university rules and Professor Steve Rogers was a fucking specimen who also seemed to be a genuinely nice human being and if you allowed yourself to play chicken just because something only might go wrong in the future, you’d be an idiot.
Penny, your roomie, wholeheartedly agreed. She actually punched the air in victory as you were nursing a greasy lunch due to the wild-ish celebration of the end of the semester together the night prior and you just said to the void: “You know what, screw it. I’m gonna go for it.”
You didn’t even have to say what you were talking about – Professor Rogers had been the topic ever since the faithful Monday.
So you texted him that if the offer still stood, you’d like to meet up on Friday evening. Was he free?
Hey, Y/N :) Thank you for reaching out. Friday sounds great. Do you have anything specific in mind?
“Dude. He’s such a cutie. Who even texts like that?” Penny chuckled, a wide grin on her face as you couldn’t but read the text out loud.
“I texted him like that.”
“Touché. Because you want to impress mister ‘hot as fuck intellectual’ there.”
You just rolled your eyes, neither confirming nor denying. Mostly because Penny was right. But he was the first to use an emoji and… yeah, cutie indeed.
Well, I never say no to dinner and I’m down for almost anything-
“I bet you are,” Penny hummed to your ear and you swung after her blindly and thought of a better phrasing.
Well, I never say no to a dinner and I’m not picky. You choose. Seven-ish sounds good?
“Spoilsport.”
“Stop reading over my shoulder!” you chuckled and bit your lip as the answer came almost immediately.
Seven is alright. I’ll think of something to treat a girl right ;)
Your stomach made a small somersault, your face instantly radiating heat at the possible innuendo. The phone vibrated again before you could fully process the image your mind painted of him actually saying it in his gentle timbre.
Just so we’re clear, what is the nature of the dinner? It can be whatever you feel comfortable with.
Your heart leaped into your throat, hammering wildly.
That was the question, wasn’t it? Since you texted him, you made one thing clear with yourself. If you were doing this, it was going to be a date. You wouldn’t be doing things by halves.
Penny next to you made a noise that sounded as something between an aww and her gagging on nothing. “He’s disgustingly considerate for a man his age planning on going out with a girl your age.”
“He’s not that much older,” you protested instantly, frowning. He wasn’t. She knew that; you had both done your research. “And I think it’s amazing.”
You caught Penny’s smile from the corner of your eye as you typed.
“Well, it is kinda sweet. And I know he’s not, I’m messing with you. It’s just-- DON’T SEND HIM THAT!”
“Why?” you questioned, looking at her quizzically and totally clicking on send on purpose at the same time.
I’d be comfortable with a date if you are.
“It’s so lame. Of course he’s comfortable with a date, he suggested it. Duh.”
The reply came way too fast and Penny chuckled behind you as your jaw went slack.
“You know what? Don’t mind me. Good job. Keep it up,” Penny patted your shoulder as you stared at the screen where Professor Steven Grant Rogers just texted you a damn heart.
It’s a date <3
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It was a date indeed.
Steve texted you an address on Friday morning (along with an adorable good morning :) ), apologizing that he couldn’t pick you up, making sure you’d be alright getting there on your own. You found it absolutely sweet, considerate and smart. You suspected that his ‘inability’ to pick you up had something to do with the fact that you lived at the dorms and if he showed up there, it would be trending in the university chit-chat room within five minutes.
You spent a better part of the Friday afternoon researching the place and the weather forecast so you could dress accordingly and getting ready.
You were not ready for a date with Steve Rogers however; your nerves were a mess and nothing could ever prepare you for when he showed up perfectly on time in front of the restaurant---- wearing a suit no less.
How were you supposed to function when he was wearing such elegant clothing, a suit he filled up so fucking well?! And he looked just as breath-taking as always, stupidly perfect beard and slightly tousled hair you just wanted to run your fingers through and his smile was so gorgeous and--- Jesus Fucking Christ, the suit- how could you even put words together when looking at him-
“Wow, I feel so underdressed now.”
Clearly, you could speak just fine, only you lost your brain-to-mouth filter. Also, your mouth might have started watering and your heart was pounding like crazy. You would not survive tonight.
But, you also had a point. The restaurant was supposed to be a nice place, but relatively plain. And he showed up in amazingly fitting dress pants, white shirt, a tie and a suit jacket. So yes, you did feel underdressed.
“Oh no, no! You’re not,” he rushed to reassure you, eyeing your semi-leisure white dress with burgundy flowers with an attentive gaze that had you shifting your weight nervously. “I’m overdressed if anything. Sticking out like a sore thumb, I’m sorry.”
You could always just strip the suit jacket, was your first thought, but luckily for you, this time you managed to contain the words before they got out to the open.
“You’re fine,” you said instead, not knowing how else to react; needless to say you were grateful for the smile he gave you despite the double meaning.
Yes, he was fine indeed. Always. It was unfair, really.
“Thanks. You too. In fact, you look beautiful.”
Your heart stopped in your chest, your mind suddenly racing a mile per minute.
It was ridiculous. It was just a word. But for one, it was spoken so kindly and genuinely you couldn’t but think he meant it, for two, it was Professor Steve Rogers who told you that and--- beautiful.
You couldn’t remember a guy ever calling you beautiful.
Cute? Sure. Pretty? Maybe. Hot? Might have happened once or twice . But beautiful?
You might actually swoon.
And you were so lost in your head that you couldn’t but silently stare at the lethally handsome man in front of you and then it again registered in your brain that this was your fucking crush speaking to you and he was on a date with you and he had read your erotica, one that was about him no less-
Your face was set aflame in an instant and you… you couldn’t let out a word.
“It everything okay? Did I… did I say something wrong?” Steve asked hesitantly, a concerned wrinkle appearing between his brows and it reminded you of all the times you had seen him wearing such thoughtful expression in the two classes he taught instead of Professor Barnes and-
You were screwed.
Tonight was going to be a disaster.
“No, uhm, no, sorry--- maybe we should go inside or-“ you muttered, lightly gesturing towards the door and could you get any more awkward?
“Yeah, sure, sounds good.”
He let you walk in first like a real gentleman, the lightest skim of his fingers on your lower back, which caused your heartbeat to skyrocket; and only when the hostess seated you, you realized you never accepted his kind compliment.
It was too late for that now, you assumed, so you sipped at the still water which waited at each table, and repeated like a mantra to yourself that you needed to get your shit together otherwise you’d ruin your shot before the night even started.
But clearly, you succeeded at that already.
Whatever awkward aura you had around yourself, it seemed to extend now to him too – he shifted slightly in his seat (he had pulled out your chair for you before, because of course he had), his shoulders stiff. Despite that, he smiled at you over the menu.
“So… all exams worked out? Enjoying the freedom?” he asked casually.
“Oh, yes. Yeah.”
“Congratulations.”
“Thanks,” you uttered with a forced smile, your stomach twisted unpleasantly.  
For some reason, you felt like you were having a lame attempt at small talk with a professor, which you were, but it wasn’t supposed to be like that.
Not tonight. Not on a date.
What were you even doing here? What were you playing at? Professor Steve Rogers was entirely out of your league, gorgeous, funny, kind and smart and here you were, barely making conversation.
It was pathetic really. It was embarrassing for both of you.
“You up to anything fun?” he queried, the question less enthusiastic than the one before. He was already growing tired of making your uncooperative brain work at least a bit, it was obvious.
Your gulped as the memory of last night popped in your head – staying in, quiet evening, in a mood for some dirty writing--- oh bless, another reminder of why this dinner was and should be really weird.
Steve read your smutty story. The one about him.
“Nothing special,” you squealed silently, earning a plain nod. “Eh, we went out with Penny, my roommate and best friend in one person. But mostly I just stayed in and--- caught up on sleeping.”
“I know what that’s like,” Steve hummed, clearly as grateful as you were when the waiter appeared by your table to take your orders.
Silence stretched as the man left, your hand beginning to fiddle with the neatly folded napkin on the table, lump growing in your throat due to your nerves.
“What about you? Anything… fun?” you asked reluctantly, noticing a brief smile passing Steve’s lips. Pretty, sinfully pretty lips. Perfect. Untouchable for mere mortals like you.
“Oh, not much. Few exam sittings, faculty meetings – we had one now, hence the suit-“
“You came here right from school?” you blurted out, startled – and clearly surprising him with your rudeness. “Sorry.”
“Don’t worry about it. Yes, I did. We have a meeting every last Friday of the month.”
“Oh my god, you must be so tired,” you sympathized with him quietly, the uneasy feeling in your stomach only growing. He came here straight from work and for this? “Why didn’t you say something? We could have postponed or something.”
Steve swiftly shook his head, his warm hand landing on yours, gently stopping your restless fingers. This time, it was butterflies in your stomach erupting with life, the sweet comforting gesture warming your heart. He wanted to be here. He came here for you. He was interested in you.
And the feeling was mutual. So why was it being so weird then?
“Hey, it’s okay. I’m glad you reached out. I’m glad that you said yes in the first place,” he admitted, features softening despite the tension in his shoulders never leaving. His brows furrowed as he slowly withdrew his hand – it must have been an automatic reaction then. “I’m not that tired and… and maybe I was little worried that if I asked for a different date, then…”
He trailed off and your lips parted in surprise, your heart swelling in your chest at what he was implying.
Did he think you’d back out? Did he think that all the potential obstacles intimidated you too much? That you’d think it wasn’t worth it? That it wouldn’t work out anyway?
Seeing as you were now, you couldn’t blame him. Despite him being the world’s most charming man, here you were, being… not at all yourself, stressing for no reason.
It seemed to you that had had chemistry, back there in his office. This date made sense. When you imagined how this could unfold, well, it went a bit differently too. There was considerably less embarrassment going around.
This was why you preferred writing to speaking. That’s why you liked daydreaming. Because reality was often less than ideal, no script, awkward silences, misunderstandings…
“I’m sorry,” you whispered, your voice barely audible as your food arrived.
You both thanked the waiter politely and you hoped that at least now you’d have a good excuse for the lack of normal conversation.
“What are you sorry for?”
You sighed and nibbled on your lower lip, not missing the way his gaze instinctively flickered there, pupils dilating just a fraction – but enough for you to notice. Your heart skipped a pleased beat – but the undeniable physical attract couldn’t be enough.
“For this,” you said, gesturing vaguely between the two of you. His features twisted in disappointment and something that looked a lot like regret flashed in his eyes. “I want to be here, Steve. I really do. I don’t know what’s wrong with me-“
“There’s absolutely nothing wrong with you,” he was quick to oppose and you couldn’t help it as a wry chuckle escaped you.
“Well, there’s certainly nothing wrong with you. And still, there’s this…”
“…tension?”
You wished.
“Sort of? But not the fun kind, for sure.”
He grimaced, but a spark of amusement lit up his blue irises. “Awkward air around us?”
“Yes!” you exclaimed victoriously as he voiced exactly what you were thinking. Then you quickly lowered your voice, looking around. Luckily, no one stared at you. You realized you leaned closer to him over the table, your heart racing at that, but you didn’t withdraw; it was a lovely opportunity to get even a better look at his perfect face. “But I don’t know why!” You knew why. “I like you, Steve-“
“I like you too. And I know I already said that, but you look stunning.”
Your cheeks burned again, but this time, you managed to stutter out a thank you at least. Stunning, Jesus, was he for real?
“T-thank you. You look incredibly handsome too. Then again you always do—why did I say that.”
One corner of his lips quirked up.
“Why thank you, I’m glad you did. The feeling’s mutual, believe me.”
“Then why does this feel like one of the most awkward dates I’ve ever been to?!” you whisper-yelled, causing him to chuckle, the tips of his ears turning red.
His hand once again landed on yours, this time deliberately, the gesture warming you in more than one way.
“Well… I’m nervous. You might be too.” You hummed in agreement. Was that all it was? “But the way you said it, at least it seems to me that it could have been worse, right? More awkward?”
You felt the corners of your lips rise at the remark, shrugging. He had a point there. And he squeezed your hand a bit and good Lord, it should not be making your heart race so much, but he was touching you and he was being really sweet and his fingers were nice and warm and long-
“Tell me.”
You blinked in surprise, realizing you had been staring at your joined hands. You raised your gaze, finding him watching you with a subtle smile.
“Tell you what?”
“Tell me about the most awkward date you have ever been to,” he clarified, his thumb caressing your wrist.
You only hesitated for a beat before you nodded in agreement, god knew why. Perhaps you did need a reminder that this could have gone much more disastrously and it was mostly your traitorous brain telling you that you were messing everything up.
Plus, Steve deserved whatever he wanted – so far, he was the only reason this date wasn’t as disastrous as it could be.
“Okay. You ever been to a speed dating event, Steve? Because I have.”
“Oh, this is ought to be good,” he noted with another squeeze to your hand, before he released you. Shame. He sipped at his wine and dug into his pasta. “I’m all ears.”
This is ought to be good, Steve said. Well, maybe. You certainly hadn’t thought so at the time.
Explaining to Steve that as you had been under duress from no other than Penny, you both went to the event which promised you meeting ten dashing men in only an hour. You’d get five minutes with each, as anonymous as you’d wished to be, receiving a folder with nothing but a table with the first names of the men and a yes and no option and a line for your own notes about them.
You weren’t sure what to think of it – but after three epically failed Tinder attempts, you agreed to try. If nothing else, you’d gain a new experience.
And an experience had it been. You even lasted a month with one of the guys, but you didn’t tell Steve that. It wasn’t important.
André was.
André Whatever-was-his-last-name – because that was how it worked, no last names – definitely believed he was important. With the guys moving around the tables from one woman to another, spending five minutes with each, you could already hear André closing to your station from two tables over.
He was hard to tune out, courtesy of the colour of his voice, extremely unpleasant to your ears, and him never letting the woman he faced talk. Always interrupting. Always turning the conversation around so it would be about him.
Asshole.
You liked to think you weren’t quick to judge people, but André was making you cringe before you were even introduced. And then you actually were.
A minute into his monologue to you, you felt like you were being tortured.
And then the waitress managed to stumble and spill a glass of white wine – partly over your table, but mostly on the floor. At least she caught the glass and you had but a tiny spot on your dress.
“She was apologizing so profusely and I wasn’t thinking, okay. I went for the napkins few tables over to help and— I didn’t realize I put the open folder down for everyone to see,” you explained, feeling like face-palming when you remembered the night.
Steve watched you in anticipation, a small smirk and a knowing look on his face as he guessed you had already circled ‘no’ for André at the time.
Oh, you wished it were that simple. You felt your cheeks burn hot as you continued.
“André read it, of course. Obviously, he already got a hard ‘no’ from me, but… I might have written a tiny note for myself as to why,” you admitted and Steve’s eyebrow rose minutely, his curiosity piqued even more.
You took a deep breath.
“I wasn’t exactly kind to him. It was something along the lines of self-important asshole who probably compensated for something.” Steve huffed in amusement. But oh, if he only knew... you sighed and continued. “And If Draco Malfoy and Gilderoy Lockhart had a love child, this would be him.”
No sound came from your companion this time and your teeth anxiously sank into our lower lip, your pulse wavering. What was Steve thinking? Did he think you had been rude? Mean even? Nerdy? All of the above?
He stared at you for full three seconds, clearly rendered speechless by your harsh judgement.
And then he burst out laughing.
Suffocating weight fell from your shoulders and you silently joined him as you explained yourself.
“I was in my Harry Potter phase! And in my defence, I think it was actually pretty accurate...”
“Oh, I don’t doubt that sweetheart,” Steve chuckled lightly before laughing some more, irises twinkling with amusement and something… softer.
You shuddered upon hearing the endearment spill unwittingly from his lips, upon seeing the emotion on his face.  And maybe you were a little proud of yourself for making him laugh and lose the tension in his shoulders completely.
“It was one of the longest and most awkward three minutes of my life, the silence that followed,” you huffed, massaging your forehead. “He did not appreciate the comparison.”
“I bet,” Steve cackled, taking another bite of his meal, smile playing in the corner of his lips as he swallowed and continued. “But you’ve got to give it to him, he knew his Harry Potter characters.”
“Ha! My thoughts exactly. But that’s a little bit of weak base for dating, I think, especially since I kinda already hated him.”
“Oh, you did? I didn’t catch that,” Steve joked lightly, causing you to smile despite the horrid memory.
And funnily enough, telling him and remembering it… it did make you feel better and more at ease with him.
“Ha ha ha, laugh it up, Professor. Your turn.”
“I’m sorry?” he said, clearly puzzled. It didn’t escape your notice as his voice faltered, his Adam’s apple bobbing at the addressing.
Oh, so that’ s still a thing. You couldn’t but smirk a bit at that.
“An awkward date. You have to share now, it’s only fair,” you shrugged, only for a terrible realization to dawn on you. “Please tell me there is at least one awkward date story, Steve. Tell me this isn’t really your worst date ever.”
He shook his head with a soft chuckle.
“Oh, there’s plenty. I’m just trying to think about one that won’t scare you away from me. I’d hate that.”
One corner of his lips raised, he looked you up and down, lingering on your lips for a bit before meeting your gaze, something you could only hope was fondness and wanton in his eyes. Your breath hitched, heat pooling in your abdomen at the thorough onceover despite the gentle tone of his voice.
Fuck how could he make you feel hot and soft at the same time.
Unable to stand the intensity of his stare, you lowered your gaze and gulped, your stomach making an excited slip. He did want you. You had been being silly, letting your nerves get the better of you.
Clearing your throat, you willed yourself to look up, finding him still watching closely – and perhaps, there was a hint of a red to his cheeks, the tip of his ears burning as if despite the blatant flirting, he was unsure of himself too, because he didn’t want to mess up with you either.
You found it absolutely endearing and your heart swelled. The way you got to see there was more to him than his professor side and his dashing looks… you felt incredibly lucky. The more you got to interact with him, the more it wasn’t just your sinful thoughts belonging to him – he was quickly working on stealing your heart as well.
Plucking up your courage, you were the one to reach out this time, carefully sweeping your thumb over the back of his hand, smiling.
“I’m not scared off all that easily, Steve.”
He mirrored your genuine smile, a glint of something you couldn’t read lighting up his eyes.
“That’s good to know,” he said lowly and sighed, narrowing his eyes as if he was assessing you again. “Alright, here goes…”
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You actually managed to get one more awkward date story from Steve, because frankly, his experiences were hilarious. And surprise surprise, he was a great narrator. Plus, while he talked, you could ogle him shamelessly without fear of looking strange.
But you guessed that since you were on a date, you could ogle him anyway. He didn’t seem to mind; in fact, whenever he got the opportunity, he reciprocated it. It finally did feel like a date, the air growing thicker as you gradually shifted closer and closer, the light touches prolonging, feet meeting under the table without parting as soon as they made contact.
Your belly kept warming up with each smile and laugh, with every second of the intense eye contact, with every flicker of his gaze to your lips and vice versa. Sharing a dessert was a terrible idea, because you wanted kiss the crumbs sticking on his lips away. You teased each other, you complimented each other – with Steve absolutely winning the undeclared contest – and you realized that despite sharing your most embarrassing dates with each other at the beginning, this was the absolute best you had ever been to.
And you didn’t want it to end.
The light sweater you had brought with you did nothing to shield you from the surprisingly lukewarm wind. As you wandered the streets, Steve finally heard out one of your first thoughts you had had when meeting him today – he shrugged off his suit jacket.
Which… yum. The seams of his shirt were crying for help and you could only think fo one way of helping them – taking his shirt off too. But alas, Steve didn’t continue the striptease, probably because you were on the street. Instead, he did the most wholesome thing and held out the jacket for you to slip into.
You only hesitated a moment, teeth sinking into your lower lip. How could you say no to that?
“That’s awfully cliché and really sweet at the same time,” you muttered, causing him to shrug, one corner of his lips raised in a smirk as he helped you put it on, forefinger most definitely deliberately caressing the side of your throat before withdrawing.
A shudder ran down your spine, electrifying feeling going straight to your core. The whiff of whatever cologne he was wearing enveloped you, clouding your senses. Goddammit he smelled so good.
“Maybe I just want to see you in my clothes,” he hummed, the suggestive remark knocking the breath straight out of your lungs.
Stepping to your side from behind your back, you caught a glimpse of his expression – a little bit smug, a little bit panicked as it probably registered with him just how much suggestive it was, perhaps crossing a line.
It was absolutely not crossing the line, because the thought of wearing his clothes, preferably grabbing it because you couldn’t find yours after you threw it all around the room as you frantically stripped each other was making your head spin in the best way.
“Maybe I’d really enjoy wearing your clothes after you rip off mine.”
Steve’s jaw went slack, a choked noise leaving him and you couldn’t but laugh at his dumbstruck expression. Surprise, professor, you little shit. I can keep up.
“That was… mean,” he said, clearing his throat. Your eyebrows rose, pot calling the kettle back style. “But I see how I deserved that.”
“Damn right… but that doesn’t mean it’s a lie,” you shrugged, chuckling at the exasperated look he shot you.
‘Man, she’s gonna fuck you up on a whole new level and I’ll be here for it in the front row with a bowl of popcorn,’ Barnes’ words to Steve which you weren’t meant to hear echoed in your head, making you grin.
The teasing was intense, yet you felt comfortable in it. You blamed Steve and his nature – he already felt like a guy to go lengths to make you feel at ease enough; the way he had kept insisting on you choosing whether this was a date or not only proved it. He made it easy to be yourself, making you feel like you could.
And he made it perfectly clear that he was enjoying seeing you like that, that he appreciated you as you were.
But the closer you got to the campus, the more the reality was settling in, your laughter fading, butterflies and heat replaced by anxiety. He was still a professor. If you went for it, it wouldn’t always be uncomplicated like this. The awkwardness crept in as your steps grew slower, the inevitable arriving.
He couldn’t walk you home, to walk you to the dorm, even if the desire to do so radiated from every fibre of his being. He couldn’t do that for the same reason he hadn’t picked you up.
You came to a stop, feeling like there was this invisible border to a safe, students-free part of the city, the line you couldn’t cross side by side.
“So, uhm… this is it, huh?” Steve hummed, grim. You appreciated the lame attempt at a smile though and reciprocated, turning to face him.
“Looks like it.”
Heavy silence settled over you pair. Your eyes trailed all over him, lingering on his face, noting as he did the same. He was beautiful; you didn’t care you should say that about a man. He was. The light in his eyes dimmed compared to that just a few moments ago, but it was still there, expression soft, almost as soft as his beard looked, causing your fingers to twitch in need to run them over it and pull him in for a kiss.
Your lips tingled as the idea. You had never kissed a man with a beard and you wanted to know how it felt. The fact it was Steve only sealed the deal and made the need grow exponentially.
You wanted to kiss him so bad. But here you stood, unable to move, unable to speak. You sighed.
“Would you-“ “I want to-“
“Sorry,” you and him said at the same time again, laughing it off quietly, your fingers running through your hair.
Your stomach clenched when you noticed his eyes following the movement almost wistfully.
“You go first,” he prompted you gently.
You didn’t argue – if you learned one thing tonight, it was that Steve was a gentleman and that was so rare these days that you wouldn’t want to discourage him from being that way. Even if you really wanted to know what he was about to say, as soon as possible.
“I… I just want to say thank you. For the… for the date. I had a good time, so I hope you had too, at least a little,” you offered lamely, feeling blood rushing to your cheeks.
Like a schoolgirl blushing in front of her professor. Jesus, why were you being like this again.
Steve didn’t seem to find you as awkward as you felt however, your name slipping from his lips, kind and soft.
“I had a very good time. You’re amazing.” Your lips parted at the blatant and genuine compliment. His eyes went wide. “I’m sorry, that came out so strong, I didn’t mean to put you in spot like that-“
Stronger than ‘maybe I just want to see you in my clothes?’ you asked yourself. No, you didn’t think so. It was just that the playfulness had left at least two blocks back.
This felt more serious. More intimate.
“Ditto,” you whispered, gracing him with a shy smile he instantly mirrored. “But hey, I already knew that, so…”
He chuckled, shaking his head lightly, his smile only growing. When he looked at you again, his eyes were the beautiful warm blue that made you weak in the knees.
“Would you like to do something like that again?” he queried lowly.
Yes. YES. YES PLEASE. Minus the awkwardness at the beginning and the one a moment ago, preferably.  
“Yeah. I’d like that,” you agreed simply, taking note of how his face lit up even more.
How could a man be so indescribably hot and yet adorable enough to tug at your heartstrings?
“Good. I’m glad.”
He tugged at your hand unexpectedly, pulling you to your left, his other hand steadying you by gently grasping your forearm.
Before you could question his actions, a pair of men swaying in a drunken haze passed you, having no care in the world for whom they might crash into.
“Thanks,” blurted out lowly, sparing a second to shoot their backs a dirty glare.
But Steve’s hands were still on you, distracting, as you stood face to face, chest to chest, a little too close, a little too far. Your heart sped up in your ribcage, breathing picking up in anticipation. So close…
But all Steve did was to squeeze your forearm reassuringly, lifting your joined hands to his face.
Just like the day you agreed to get coffee with him, he kissed your knuckles, only this time it was much firmer. His smile was sweet and utterly irresistible as he kept looking at your face and you felt all the worries about the future melt away once again.
He was so precious and this felt so right and--- you didn’t want him to kiss your hand.
Well, you wanted it, but you wanted more too.
You had been aching to kiss that mouth since you had first set eyes on him, on that inhumanly gorgeous and hot creature. You were on a date, you both had a great time and clearly he was giving you the opportunity to decide how far you wanted to take this, because as much as every little touch of his made to crazy, the displays of affection were positively chaste.
And you wanted to take it very very far.
Your rational brain wouldn’t let you just hop into sac with him today, but fuck, you could do with a kiss. You wanted to feel that perfectly trimmed beard of his and you wanted to taste him.
Did he?
You stepped even closer as he let go of your hand, distracting you minutely; due to the sudden proximity, it landed on his chest and Jesus fucking Christ he was firm.
Your fingers clutched at the white fabric of his shirt as you observed his face, your gaze inevitably flickering to his lips. Glancing up once more to find him still watching you intently, pupils dilated, your breath caught in your throat, heat stirring in your belly.
Rising to your tiptoes, you gripped the fabric tighter and shortly pressed your lips to his.
It was a funny feeling – lips hot, soft and slightly chapped, a stark contrast to the beard, less rough than you expected, leaving a tingly sensation behind. It was different; exciting and addicting. Before he could react and before you could think twice, you kissed him again, this time lingering for a few seconds, your eyelids falling shut.
Your heart fluttered when you felt his lips reluctantly respond just as you withdrew, his grip on your arm tightening. You ran your tongue over your lips to savour the feeling, mouth instinctively curling up in a smile, gaze meeting his.
Little wrinkles appeared around his eyes as he smiled as well.
“You okay?”
You nodded, almost too eagerly, lowering back to your whole feet. Involuntarily, your gaze flickered to his mouth again, wanting more.
“Uhm… beard,” you piped up unhelpfully, pressing your lips together as soon as the admission left them.
Steve’s smile widened as he once again grasped your hand, leading it to cup his face – not before he dropped a kiss to your palm.
You almost let out a very embarrassing whine at the curious sensation, your mind, still enveloped in Steve’s warmth and cologne, wondering how the beard would feel elsewhere.
Your fingers unwittingly caressed the hair, thumb brushing his lips, unable to resist.
His Adam’s apple bobbed, lips parting, hot breath fanning over your skin as watched you.
“Sweetheart,” he breathed out and that was it – you pressed against the soft swollen flesh at the pet name, causing a low grumble echo in Steve’s chest.
And then his hand slid to your waist, the other sinking into your hair, and he pulled up into a kiss that had nothing to do with how patient he had been before. He was still a gentleman, but it was a close call – he angled your head to his liking, his lips dancing with yours in a sensual dance with just a tease of tongue licking at the seam of your lips, causing you to sigh in bliss, granting him access.
He hummed appreciatingly, the sound shaking your bones as he held you flat against him, the heat of his body seeping into yours – as if every nerve ending in your body wasn’t on fire already. He breathed you in, consumed you entirely – there were no other words for it.
There weren’t many words you could think of to begin with, too busy feeling his broad shoulders under your palm, fingers roaming to find the soft hair at his nape, revelling at the taste of him, just a smidge of tongue and you wanted more, your insides twisting in need--- and oh, your back was pressed against a wall now.
You let out a small startled sound which Steve instantly swallowed – but it was a good wake up call for you both. The motions of his lips slowed, softened, a gentle caress more than anything, his thumb stroking your cheek.
Breathless, you chased after his mouth when he retreated, earning one small peck and then another. He rested his forehead against yours, nose briefly skimming yours, causing you to smile and meet his gaze.
“Sorry,” he muttered and you genuinely wanted to slap his arm or something for apologizing for that. Because you knew what you’d be thinking about for the next few hours, days even, hell, probably weeks. “For springing out like that. I just… wanted to do that for a long time.”
The admission had your heart skip a beat and you couldn’t but lean in to kiss the corner of his mouth – and nope, you weren’t over how it felt, his beard against your lips. You wouldn’t be over it for a long time, you suspected.
“Me too.”
“So… we’re doing this again, right?“
You smirked up at him as he reluctantly released you. “You springing out like that or-“
“Don’t test me, babygirl,” he nearly growled, causing your eyes going wide as saucers, feeling as if you were sucker punched to your gut – and liked it.
Babygirl. Jesus, he was going to be the death of you.
“You can spring out like that again too,” you chimed, your voice sounding a bit strangled, because holy shit he just called you that. His gaze flickered all over your face, a shade darker than before. Your underwear was thoroughly ruined with that single look… and the earlier make-out session. “But if we’re talking second dates, I’d definitely do that too.”
He huffed and shook his head, a chuckle escaping him.
“You’re a minx…. I think I like it.”
You grinned at him and then sighed regretfully, reaching to slip off the jacket, which made him frown.
“You could give it back later.”
“Don’t tempt me… don’t want to rob you of it--- and there would be questions,” you explained, knowing that even walking around the campus like what would raise rumours of god knew what.
Like, maybe someone would think some gentleman like Professor Steve Rogers himself lent it to you or something, gee, where would that come from...
Steve nodded in understanding, accepting the jacket and shrugging it on.
“Plus, I’m thoroughly warmed up,” you added cheekily, causing him to chuckle incredulously again. With a sigh, he leaned in, cradling your jaw in one large hand and pressed a sweet lingering kiss to your forehead.
You could melt on spot.
“Goodnight, sweetheart. Let me know when you get home safe?” he asked of you gently, tugging at your heartstrings some more, because of course he did.
“I will. You too?”
His smile was soft and sweet as he promised to do so, clearly touched by your care. Well, that made two of you.
“Goodnight, Steve. Thank you for tonight.”
“Thank you.”
You breathed in deeply, dropping a last kiss to his cheek and quickly spun on your heels to walk away – because if you wavered a second longer, you might have not left at all.
Sure, you looked back at him several times, finding him standing where you had left him, his eyes following your receding figure. But you kept walking.
And once you couldn’t see him anymore, you broke into a fit of giggles, hiding your face in your palms to muffle your delighted squeal.
You were just coming back to the dorms from the date with Steve Rogers.
And despite the hiccups, it was the best damn thing in the world, leaving you giddy and already craving another date and more. Your cheeks hurt from smiling by the time you made it to the dorms, your heart pounding excitedly the whole time.
As promised, you let Steve know you made there safe, earning another text with a heart. It only made you squeal again, fingers frantic as you replied – and with a kiss for goodnight so he knew you truly enjoyed your night, ending included.
What he didn’t know was that maybe, just maybe, the next evening you wrote a tiny story in which you elaborated at what could happen if he ever pushed you against a wall and kissed your breathless ever again.
And hopefully, he would.
Soon.
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Attached masterlist
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...how it happened? I was asked about the first date, very kindly and in a no pressure manner.
S: Hey, just out of curiosity, you don’t really have to answer… how do you imagine their first date went?
me: Hm, let me think, I guess, mm, it would be like this--- oh shit. Oh no. It’s gonna be a fic again, isn’t it? Maybe I could finally write a headcanon or a drabble--- sigh.
As if I could ever.
Thank you for reading :-*
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anika-ann · 23 days ago
Text
Word Is that We Might Work It Out (sneak peek)
Pairing: Prof! Steve Rogers x reader   Word Count: 650
A/N:  Attached one-shot, aka the first date, timeline-wise belonging after ch.4
Warnings: alcohol mention, language, Steve being lethally cute
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You lasted one day. One full day since the encounter in the office, since Professor Rogers admitted he would like to take you out for coffee or something similar. Since you two exchanged numbers.
It took you twenty-four hours – maybe less – to decide that so what if that might be a bad idea. It was not against the university rules and Professor Steve Rogers was a fucking specimen who also seemed to be a genuinely nice human being and if you allowed yourself to play chicken just because something only might go wrong in the future, you’d be an idiot.
Penny, your roomie, wholeheartedly agreed. She actually punched the air in victory as you were nursing a greasy lunch due to the wild-ish celebration of the end of the semester together the night prior and you just said to the void: “You know what, screw it. I’m gonna go for it.”
You didn’t even have to say what you were talking about – Professor Rogers had been the topic ever since the faithful Monday.
So you texted him that if the offer still stood, you’d like to meet up on Friday evening. Was he free?
Hey, Y/N :) Thank you for reaching out. Friday sounds great. Do you have anything specific in mind?
“Dude. He’s such a cutie. Who even texts like that?” Penny chuckled, a wide grin on her face as you couldn’t but read the text out loud.
“I texted him like that.”
“Touché. Because you want to impress mister ‘hot as fuck intellectual’ there.”
You just rolled your eyes, neither confirming nor denying. Mostly because Penny was right. But he was the first to use an emoji and… yeah, cutie indeed.
Well, I never say no to dinner and I’m down for almost anything-
“I bet you are,” Penny hummed to your ear and you swung after her blindly and thought of a better phrasing.
Well, I never say no to a dinner and I’m not picky. You choose. Seven-ish sounds good?
“Spoilsport.”
“Stop reading over my shoulder!” you chuckled and bit your lip as the answer came almost immediately.
Seven is alright. I’ll think of something to treat a girl right ;)
Your stomach made a small somersault, your face instantly radiating heat at the possible innuendo. The phone vibrated again before you could fully process the image your mind painted of him actually saying it in his gentle timbre.
Just so we’re clear, what is the nature of the dinner? It can be whatever you feel comfortable with.
Your heart leaped into your throat, hammering wildly.
That was the question, wasn’t it? Since you texted him, you made one thing clear with yourself. If you were doing this, it was going to be a date. You wouldn’t be doing things by halves.
Penny next to you made a noise that sounded as something between an aww and her gagging on nothing. “He’s disgustingly considerate for a man his age planning on going out with a girl your age.”
“He’s not that much older,” you protested instantly, frowning. He wasn’t. She knew that; you had both done your research. “And I think it’s amazing.”
You caught Penny’s smile from the corner of your eye as you typed.
“Well, it is kinda sweet. And I know he’s not, I’m messing with you. It’s just-- DON’T SEND HIM THAT!”
“Why?” you questioned, looking at her quizzically and totally clicking on send on purpose at the same time.
I’d be comfortable with a date if you are.
“It’s so lame. Of course he’s comfortable with a date, he suggested it. Duh.”
The reply came way too fast and Penny chuckled behind you as your jaw went slack.
“You know what? Don’t mind me. Good job. Keep it up,” Penny patted your shoulder as you stared at the screen where Professor Steven Grant Rogers just texted you a damn heart.
It’s a date <3
-.-
It's a date, y'all! 🥰
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anika-ann · 25 days ago
Text
Hell Froze Over - Pt.5
Mother(hen)
Type: mini-series to a series (part 1 & part 2 & part 3 & part 4),  Avenger!reader AU.
Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader       Word count: 2700
Summary: There’s a new enhanced on a scene, showing up at places of the Avengers’ fights. She’s fast. Really, really fast.
Katie is still at the facility and while Bruce knows her secret, there are other who have some... interesting observations on their own.
Warnings: brief violence (last part), brief mention of medical procedues, language, fluff
A/N: Oh look, it’s a short chapter...
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Previous part
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Between fighting aliens, running after ‘rush-girl’ and keeping an eye on her, the exhaustion took a toll on both you and Steve. Unlike your fiancé, however, you didn’t have a super-serum running through your veins and clearly it showed; Katie herself actually sent you to bed, assuring you she trusted Doctor Banner.
As touched as you were at the gesture, you still wavered. The training you had received still warned you about letting her be on her own with Bruce, who honestly too looked like he could use at least a nap.
So you decided to take turns. While you and Steve finally went to bed, Sam and Tony replaced you in the lab. Bruce still stayed and in a way, you understood. As tired as he looked, he was likely fascinated by what the results showed him and he was like a bulldog when he sunk his teeth into a problem, he just couldn’t let go until he found a solution.
When you re-entered the lab eight hours later, you found two sleep-deprived scientists and one supersoldier keeping Katie company. Which seemed unnecessary since she was soundly asleep, her hand curled around her necklace. You would never admit it out loud, but she looked kind of cute, few years younger now.
You noticed a fair shake of snacks wrappings on the table next to her, but paid no mind to it. You knew how that felt, needing energy, especially after shaking with cold for hours. And considering she was fast it was likely that her metabolism was fast too, which meant she needed to eat a lot. After all, Steve had unnaturally fast metabolism as well and he was insatiable… pun intended.
While Tony and Bruce discussed things you didn’t understand (something about a new round of tests), Bucky was sitting by Katie’s bedside, watching her intently.
“Watching someone sleep is creepy, Barnes,” you whispered, a useless gesture apparently, since dynamic Iron-Hulk duo was in a heated discussion, not minding their volume at all despite the sleeping girl.
Bucky raised his gaze and made sure you saw him roll his eyes.
“She just looks familiar is all, trying to figure out who she reminds me of,” he shrugged, standing up to stretch his muscles. His back popped as he raised his arms above his head. “You’re taking over baby-sitting duty, mum?”
Your eyebrows rose simultaneously with Steve’s as you exchanged a glance.
“Mum?” you parroted dully, not even noticing Tony’s and Bruce’s voices falling silent.
“What? You found a stray and took her under your wings. You’re mother-henning her. She’s asking about you non-stop. You might as well be her actual mommy.”
You nearly jumped out as your skin as a loud cough erupted from your right; Bruce was the source, spluttering what you suspected was coffee that went to the wrong pipe. Tony patted his back, only to be stopped by his hand.
“Wow, Bruce. If your body can’t even tell the difference between swallowing and breathing, you really should get some rest…” Tony mocked him and Bruce shot him an irritated look with his red-rimmed glistering eyes.
“I’m fine, Mr. I Have More Coffee In My Bloodstream Than Blood,” Bruce murmured back, small cough escaping him once more.
You chuckled at the note. Bruce was silent and serious most of the time, but when he opened his mouth…
Your gaze returned to the bed before glancing up to Bucky, who was giving you a pointed see-even-the-scientist -agrees look. It was your turn to roll your eyes.
“At least I’m not watching her sleep,” you snarked, crossing your arms on your chest, resisting the urge to stick out your tongue. “Did she really? Ask about me?”
“All the friggin’ time, she was almost ignoring me,” Bucky confirmed with a sigh, patting Steve’s arm on his way out. “Pal, I think we’re getting too old to charm a lady. your gal’s winning them over. You better keep her on leash, because you won’t manage to get any other.”
“Hey!” you protested instantly, shocked by the comment.
“You could always try guys, Barnes!” Tony called out after the soldier, while Steve just huffed at your side and shook his head at his choice of friends.
You kinda agreed with him on this one. Rude.
“Been there, done that! Just not the same, Stark!” Bucky threw over his shoulder cheekily, causing you to blink in surprise.
As the door clicked shut behind him, you wordlessly asked Steve if he actually had. Not that it was really your business, but… hey. You were curious.
Steve just waved it off subtly, clearly not keen on elaborating, and then crossed his arms on his chest, mirroring you pose, except with a small pout on his lips.
“Do you think I’m old?”
You stared at him speechless, perfectly taken aback at the question. He reciprocated your gaze seriously, blue eyes piercing yours… and you couldn’t help it. You burst out laughing, bending in your waist with the roar of laughter, tears springing from your eyes.
“You— you’re asking me-“
You didn’t manage to let out more words, laughter taking over your body again.
Steve watched you without a single trace of amusement, frowning, seeming almost wounded. You pressed your lips together, making your way to him with silent giggles.
“Oh yeah, I think I saw grey hair this morning, right here-“
“Hey!” He snatched the hand you rose to the side of his face away, covering the place with his large palm.
Realizing he might have actually believed you and perhaps was getting self-conscious about his ‘actual’ age, you gave him a gentle apologetic smile. Grasping his protective hand carefully, you pulled it away.
You weren’t even offended he played you when he cracked his theatrics then, grinning back.
“You’re such a drama queen, Rogers,” you murmured, letting him sneak his other arm around your waist, pulling you against his front.
“Maybe. And maybe I’m just worried my gal will run away with someone younger and handsomer…”
You met his eyes twinkling with amusement, noticing the true shadow of insecurity in them lingering. The truth was that tiny wrinkles were forming around them, but only when he was smiling and you found it endearing; it was telling a story of lifetime of gentle smiles and laugh to balance the terror he had seen.
You kissed him lightly before wrapping your arms around his torso.
“Nah. I would have to look really hard for such a fella. Not worth it,” you cooed, grinning up at him.
His chest rumbled with hushed laughter, his lips pressing against your forehead before caressing your scalp.
“Geez, thanks. Thank god you’re lazy.”
You smacked his back playfully in return, rewarding him with a kiss to his jaw. “Shut up, Rogers. That was a compliment.”
“Oh was it now? When I get to call you Rogers, Anderson?”
You stilled in his arms, your breath hitching.
Ever since he had proposed, things had been shitty. The break-up of the team, the forced get-together to fight Thanos, people falling to ashes – the least favourite memory of yours, honestly –, your time in the soul stone or whatever while the survivors had been trying to find a way to save you, being saved, the aftermath, the reconciliation…. And then there had been other battles to fight, always keeping you busy.
In other words, there hadn’t been much room to talk about the wedding. Which made it even more shocking he brought it up now, so casually, when you were teasing each other.
You wiggled out of Steve’s embrace a bit so you could at least look up at his face again. He seemed nervous as if he only now realized the severity of such question, the tips of his ears bright red, his cheeks warmed up as well. God you loved when that happened. So endearing. So loveable.
You smiled at him widely, warmth curling up around your heart, excitement at the premise making your stomach somersault.
“Whenever you want, Steve,” you whispered, causing him to return the smile and kiss your forehead again, his grip tightening. His gaze fell on the engagement ring on your necklace.
“Soon then.”
“…is this about what Bucky said?”
Steve shook his head rapidly, way too fast. You raised your eyebrow in challenge and he wavered, apparently gathering his thoughts.
“I want it for a long time. I guess I just needed a nudge and… I guess we kept waiting for the perfect time to do it, but--”
“But it’s never gonna be perfect. Mm… Remind me to thank Bucky later,” you murmured, meeting Steve’s lips again, this time lingering.
“Hey, it’s impossible to work when you’re making out like horny teenagers here…” Tony hushed you from his station, causing you to sigh and roll your eyes.
But you did let yourself out of the protective cage of Steve’s arms.
As your gaze fell on Katie’s still sleeping form – and wow, how was she still asleep with all the crazy people around –, Bucky’s words echoed in your mind.
“Am I mother-henning her?” you asked reluctantly and Steve, firmly by your side, cackled in response – an answer of its own. He reached for your hand, squeezing lightly.
“A little. I think it’s cute.”
You huffed, wondering if it was the truth. You being a mother-hen. And naturally, your mind wandered to... being a mother. You had wanted kids, always, but it had been partly because you suspected you wouldn’t be able to do so given your fragile health. And after the transformation, you never gave it a second thought. But maybe…
You bit down on your lip and glanced at Steve, finding a thoughtful expression on his face. Maybe he was thinking about the same. Being a parent. You never really had that conversation. But now wasn’t he time… maybe you’d have a wedding to plan really soon.
But one day maybe…
────── ·❆· ──────  
All too soon after you took over and Katie woke up, the door to the lab flew open, revealing Natasha in her tactic gear – effectively giving you a heart attack.
WHAT NOW.
“Hey, fellas. Remember the little incident with fish-oil? You know, bunch of crystals falling to the ocean, causing people to cocoon in weird black whatever, some of them waking up with superpowers when they emerged?”
Steve at your side straightened in his seat, while you grimaced in confusion. Say what now?
“Uhm…”
“Yes...? Assuming you mean terrigenesis. What about it? What’s going on?” Steve queried.
You shot him a confused look. He knew what she was talking about? Was that another thing that had happened when you hadn’t been with them? How had no one told you about something this big? Come on! Superpowers!
…superpowers? As in-- you quickly glanced back at Katie, but she seemed as intrigued as you were if nothing else. Huh. Alright, back to the theory she had gained hew powers the same way you had; experimentation. Because that was always ‘fun’.
“Well, some of these crystals are apparently on the market. We don’t know how that happened, but we know someone bought them and the trade is about to take place in an hour. In Jersey. And we really need to go,” Natasha informed you matter-of-factly.
“How do I not know about this?” Tony complained, but jumped to his feet, ready to swith from playing genius to fly around in a suit.
“Probably had your mind elsewhere, Stark. Now, can we please go?” Nat eyed him. “Oh, and I decided Clint is on the babysitting duty.”
“Yeah. Because I just love dealing with speedsters,” the archer murmured darkly, appearing behind Tasha, who sighed at that. “No offence, kid.”
“None taken,” Katie quipped, curling in the covers. She had taken a shower earlier, her hair still little wet, and you couldn’t help but feel like she seemed a bit intimidated at the idea of being alone with Clint.
“Maybe I should stay-“
“I will,” Bruce interrupted you hastily, surprising you all. “What? You’re likely not to need the Hulk anyway. And I feel like I’m really getting to the core of our little problem...”
Natasha narrowed her eyes. Bruce seemed suspiciously eager to be here (though he wasn’t a fan of unleashing the green guy in the first place, so you supposed that was fair) and the way Katie relaxed when he offered didn’t go unnoticed by the spy – or you.
“You sure?” Steve asked Bruce as he rose to his feet. You hesitantly followed his example, eyes still on Katie. What was that about?
“Positive.”
“Alright… Clint and Bruce it is. You three, gear up,” Natasha instructed you, her bossy tone making you smile – even if you were heading out to yet another fight. Bad guys clearly decided not to have vacation ever again.
“Yes, Captain,” you teased Nat lightly and she rolled her eyes, while the corners of Steve’s lips twitched.
His fingers circled your wrist on the way out. “Hey, you feel up to fighting again?”
Your smile widened as he pretty much read your mind.
“Yeah, sure. I’m fine,” you assured him. You spared one last glance to Katie, honestly more worried about what you were leaving behind than yourself. She seemed worried too. You tried not to read much into it and gave Steve a once over, checking with him also. “You?”
“Always,” he sighed and jogged to the elevator with you by his side.
────── ·❆· ──────  
As expected, the supposedly simple mission went to shit.
The awfully large group of mercenaries wanted the crystals really, really bad. And it had everything to do with the fact they had three enhanced on their team already.
One of them was able to control fire – as if he could shoot the fire from his bare hands. You were not pleased. It melted your ice all too easily and to be honest, it was kinda pissing you off. You ended up fighting him of course, because it would be a shame to the irony to be lost.
Another guy was able to turn into metal. Tony took it as a personal offence and went after him.
The last one… the last one could control electricity and disabled Vision within five minutes of the fight. Wanda was furious, so another pair of opponents was settled.
To assume that the others were chilling when fighting ‘regular’ humans would be stupid though. There were lots of them and they carried various guns and weapons you hadn’t even seen before in a picture, let alone in action. And learning what they could do for the first time upon seeing it, or worst almost feeling it, was everything but cool.
So while you were fighting the enhanced, the rest of your team was trying their best to keep the others occupied. Needless to say, they were doing a great job.
You built a ten-inch wall of ice in front of you when you saw a fresh wave of fiery monster heading your direction. Naturally, you ended up soaking wet, your clothes heavy on you, and you were getting incredibly irritated with this guy, you truly were. You hated this – the cold getting at you instead of coming off you thanks to your powers.
Well, if you could be dripping wet like a fucking mermaid, so could he.
This time you created a paper-thin layer of ice, sending it his way, heading straight to his eyes. He smirked and deflected it with fire – and ended up with a splash of warm water in his face. It didn’t hurt him in the slightest; but it gave you a second of him being disoriented and that was all you needed.  
Since most of your ice melted when being shot at him, you used the good old gun at your ankle. You had the minimum time to actually aim, but you hit the guy’s torso anyway.
His gasp was more shocked than pained, but you didn’t give a shit. You dropped a huge ball of ice on his head and even when it predictably turned to water, the excessive amount knocked him unconscious.
But you weren’t allowed to catch a break, to celebrate your little victory.
An awfully familiar cry of pain made your heart stop, knocking air from your lungs. You didn’t hear it often – but when you did, you knew something went terribly wrong.
Steve.
Steve was hurt and by the sound of it, it couldn’t have been exactly a graze.
────── ·❆· ──────  
Part 6
────── ·❆· ──────
I would like to remind everyone, but especially to someone who promised to do pretty much anything in case I didn’t hurt our precious Snowflake, that Snowflake was not harmed in this chapter. Oops.
If this felt like a filler chapter just until the almost-end, well… maybe I just want to stall the inevitable angst too.
Thank you for reading :-*
35 notes · View notes
anika-ann · a month ago
Text
Words Whispered in the Dark
Type: Modern-college-professor AU - part of Attached series or a standalone
Pairing: professor!Steve Rogers x reader   Word count: 6250🙈
Summary: There are things, intimate desires, which people simply don’t want to talk about out loud. Since you prefer writing those down, it applies twice as much. 
Steve supports your writing – but what he’d think about your newest story… well, you’re not sure you wanted to know.
Warnings: 18+, nsfw, smut, bondage, oral (M rec), consensual sensory deprivation, praise kink & body worship, ‘babygirl’, fingering, dom/sub undertones & implied age gap & professor-student dynamic & cumplay if you squint, language ---- (let me know if I missed any…why is the list so long wtf)
A/N: Can be read as a standalone. Part of the Attached ‘verse with professor!Steve.
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A/N: For Siri’s 5K Soft Dark Challenge. Congratulations to the rightfully earned milestone ❤️ Thank you for hosting the challenge and kindly including even soft fics (even though I feel like my soft got lost in translation a bit).
Prompt: “Oh, honey, you weren’t supposed to see that.” - bold in the text, pls don’t @ me for the way I used it.
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Stepping back into your and Steve’s shared bedroom and study room in one, you froze on spot, heart leaping to your throat.
You were lucky you didn’t drop your coffee and snack upon the sight of him, your fingers gripping the items tighter in surprise instead. But fuck, was it a close call.
Because few minutes ago, you moved to the kitchen to grab some refreshments for your brain. Relaxed air had settled over your tiny but loving household on a late Sunday morning; Steve was chilling on the bed, while you sat by your desk, laptop in your lap as your fingers danced over the keyboard, putting into words your latest… uhm, story. It was going great too and being able to steal glances at your gorgeous fiancé and muse in one person was a pleasant bonus.
Steve was, as sheepish as it sometimes made you, well-acquainted with your passion for writing, even rooting for you in his fully-supportive partner mode at all times. He read a few things of yours, both dirty and sweet ones, and he seemed to be genuinely enjoying himself. You weren’t hiding things from him, never had to; and damn, did it feel good for both of you.
So technically, you knew there was a chance you’d find him behind your desk, eyes skimming over your words since you left the computer opened, just like the document, but… well.
Nothing could prepare you for the sight on him actually doing it, shoulders tense, Adam’s apple bobbing, breathing shaky as his chest kept rising and falling irregularly.
Your own breath hitched at the sight, face feeling like set aflame, pulse hammering in your temples.
Oh no. Oh shit. This wasn’t happening--
Truth was, you really had no problem sharing your stories with Steve. But this one… well, fuck. You were so fucking screwed.
“Oh---oh honey,” you stuttered, the endearment you rarely used tasting foreign on your tongue. That was how out of it you were upon realizing what was happening here.
Steve was reading it. Steve was reading that thing. That shameless, entirely dubious thing that--- this was bad. Bad, bad, bad, really fucking bad—he hadn’t run for the hills before, no matter how filthy your stories got, but now he certainly would.
Steve’s head snapped to you at instant, cheeks flushed, eyes wide as he was caught red-handed.
“You- uh, you weren’t supposed to… see that,” you stuttered awkwardly, still unable to move an inch.
Maybe you should run for the hills just so you wouldn’t have to deal with the aftermath?
He didn’t react apart from spinning in the chair to face you, throat working again as his gaze trailed up and down your figure clad in a simple shirt and shorts, fluffy socks to keep your feet warm. Despite your plain outfit, his gaze burned with intensity and dare to say hunger, enough to stir heat in your belly.
Realizing this might be the last time you’d ever see him (okay, that was a bit of an exaggeration, maybe, but better safe than sorry), you let yourself to take him in as well, again, even if you knew every line of his body, every detail. The cut of his jaw, tendons in his throat tense as well as his shoulders, long fingers griping the armrests, legs slightly parted, accenting the unmistakable growing bulge between them.
Your heart skipped a startled and excited beat. Oh. Well. At least he liked what he read, you supposed, even if all bells in your head were ringing it alarm, because… that. That kind of story would be a little too much for him, you had thought.
Was it?
“Come here,” he whispered, voice hoarse as if he had just woken up, the same voice that caressed your ear as he rutted into you, in the lazy loving which so perfectly fit a morning like this.
Willing your feet to move, teeth sunk into your lower lip, your fluffy socks padded almost soundlessly against the floor as you obeyed his request.
He gestured for you to rid yourself of the items in your hands; once again, you obliged.
The second your hands were free, he grabbed your wrist, pulling you in for a dirty kiss, fingers sinking into your hair to keep you exactly where he wanted you. Sighing in relief, you relaxed into his affection and he wasted no time licking into your mouth, his free hand gripping onto your shirt (his shirt) to drag you into his lap.
A hazardous position in an office chair, one might think. But you had a lot of practice with your favourite professor.
Sliding lower in the seat and pulling you up, Steve positioned you to his liking, drawing an appreciative hum from you as his erection rubbed deliciously against your core. You felt him smile into the kiss at the little sound you made, his fingers digging into your flesh in order to press you into him further, rutting against your quickly dampening centre.
Okay, who were you kidding. You had been writing down your filthy fantasy, you were already soaked, Steve’s movements and apparent enthusiasm just adding to the heat. A whine escaped your lips when he withdrew a fraction, giving you a chance to breathe, hand slipping under your shorts to fondle your lower cheek.
“Well, I did see it, sweetheart,” Steve said lowly, a little too short of breath for the teasing to work in his favour. Still, your stomach twisted in anticipation of what was to follow. “And I want it.”
Your eyes snapped open, your lips parting in awe, butterflies erupting in your stomach. You met his eyes, dark pupils having almost swallowed the blue of his irises, gaze intent to prove his point. Fuck. You could come right now if he kept you sitting exactly as you were and watching you like that.
It was one thing to see him react to your fantasy laid bare for him to see – voluntarily or not – but him admitting it out loud, well that was just a whole new fucking level.
Now the idea of that actually being doable was planted in our brain and your core clenched at the wistful image you had painted with your words.
It took you another minute of staring at each other to realize what exactly he was saying without explicitly voicing it.
“Wait, right now?” you blurted out breathlessly, a single nod and a kiss to the corner of your mouth your only answer.
Fuck. Shit. Okay.
“A-alright. Let’s do this then,” you stuttered, as thrilled as nervous.
You didn’t expect that – but you weren’t one to let the opportunity pass. You framed Steve’s face with your palms, his beard rough against your skin, and pressed your lips to his in a hurried kiss, eager to get him where you needed him before he changed his mind. Last grind of your hips, swallowing his content hum, you climbed from his lap to search for something that would hold.
“Bed. Now.”
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Your fingers were shaking a bit under his intent gaze as they slipped under his t-shirt, pulling it over his head. Steve was sitting on the bed now, legs parted enough for you to stand between them, watching our every move. You didn’t think you’d ever get used to the way he was looking at you – so tender, with longing and yet with such lust.
It lit your nerves on fire in the worst and best ways and that was alright with you, as long as you’d get to keep him.
He smiled at you softly, a little quirk to his eyebrow when he caught you staring and not springing into action just yet.
“What is it, babygirl?”
His hands trailing up your waist made it harder to answer.
You sighed, feeling your earlier confidence wavering. “You’re just so fucking pretty, it’s unreal.”
His lips curled up in a smirk, but the light in his eyes gave away just how much the compliment meant for him. He pulled you closer, a breathy kiss landing on your clothed stomach.
“That coming from you… could look at you all day, you must already know that,” he murmured to your shirt, sending a sparkle of courage up your chest.
You ruffled his hair and pushed him away with a chuckle, mirroring his previous smirk.
“Well, you won’t, not this time,” you sing-sang cheekily, stepping over his thigh to kneel on the bed behind him, hearing his breath catch, his hand brushing your thigh as you danced out of his reach.
Placing the scarf over his forehead first, you felt your insides twist in anticipation, fingertips tingling. God, you were really doing this.
“You ready, Professor Rogers?” you hummed to his ear, marvelling at the effect the title had on him, always, as his hands clenched into fists on his thighs.
“When you say it like that, babygirl? Yes, I am,” he grumbled, causing you to bit down on your lip.
Making sure you didn’t tie the knot too tight nor too loose, you moved the fabric so it would cover his eyes.
“Good?”
“Uh-huh,” was his wordless answer as you let your hands slid to his bare shoulders.
Steve was undoubtedly a specimen. He was every male-attracted person’s wet dream and you were the one getting your hands on him.  You thanked heaven and hell for it every day. The barely visible lines of his abs, toned chest… but Christ, it was his back that would be your downfall.
Allowing your hands to wander, your fingertips traced the hard lines of his deltoids, a featherlight touch making him shudder and your mouth to actually salivate. Dropping a kiss between his shoulder blades, you scooted closer so you were literally breathing down his neck, palms sprawled over his triceps, caressing his thick biceps, down his forearms and over his fists and all the way back up.
It was almost like a beginning of a massage, you supposed, but no one could blame you if you were enjoying the sensation on your palms a little too much. You didn’t get the opportunity to appreciate Steve’s physique like this often enough. So you indulged yourself a few more times, applying more pressure, dropping a kiss to the crook of his neck every once in a while. He winced at the accidental scrape of your nails up his forearm, causing you to halt in your movements.
“You still good?” you questioned quietly, genuinely worried for a second. You realized he had barely made a sound so far.
“You could say that, yeah,” he choked out you felt your lips curl up into a smile. Stealing a glance over his shoulder, you took notice of the unmistakable hard outline on his sweatpants and gleefully resumed your movements, nibbling on his shoulder before soothing the skin with a gentle lick. “Babygirl…”
“Yeah?”
“You know what. Don’t test me,” he warned, only making you smile wider.
“Or what?”
He turned his head to side despite not being able to see you, giving you a perfect view of how tense was his jaw. Oh, you could imagine the stern look he wanted to scold you with.
“Or you’re not gonna like what’s to come when I put my hands on you,” he threatened, sighing exasperatedly when you replied with a barely audible ‘promise?’.
“In all seriousness though… what if you… uhm, couldn’t?” you asked reluctantly, not keen on sharing what you wanted… but wanting it really badly. You were sensing a pattern within yourself, seriously.
“I don’t follow---  oh,” escaped him soundlessly as your fingers attempted to wrap around his wrists and squeezed to give him a hint. “I don’t know about that, I mean-“
You felt your hear sink in disappointment, but you tried not to let it show, wondering how to try to convince him one more time. Sure, if it was a no-no, then you wouldn’t force him, he never forced you into anything either and this was about your mutual pleasure, but… now, having him partially at your mercy, the idea nudged insistently on your mind and the image of him with his hands tied above his head while you could do anything you pleased… you might have been soaking the shorts and the sheets at that.
“We don’t have to, Steve,” you assured him kindly, hundred percent honest despite planning on playing dirty. Your hands moved to his abdomen, caressing their way up his chest, accidently brushing over his left nipple, your lips moving to his ear. “But I’d be so good to you…”
“Babygirl,” he whispered, out of breath as your hand wandered down his happy trail, slipping just under the hem of his sweats, the fingers of your other hand moving to the neglected nipple, this time shamelessly toying with it.
“I’d be such a good girl for you, Professor Rogers,” you promised, keeping the smile off your voice when you heard him gulp, his cock visibly twitching. “I’d be really, really nice. Don’t you want that, Professor?”
“Y-yeah, yeah, okay-“
“Good choice,” you said approvingly, dropping a kiss to his cheek, making him groan and probably regret his decision already. You stood up, quickly looking for something you could use. “Just so you know, I think this is where the same rule applies,” you noted matter-of-factly. “You don’t like something I do, you want me to stop at any point, you tell me. I really want this to be good for you, Steve. So. What’s the word?”
From the front, you could see the blush that spread over his chest, causing you to bite your lip and nearly stumble over your feet. Good lord, Steve blindfolded, all flushed and waiting for you on the bed so you could do your worst--- now that was a sight to behold.
“Uhm… Waterloo?”
You bit your cheek so you wouldn’t laugh at his choice. It was cute and ridiculous... but also kinda hot, because well, Steve’s brains were just another turn-on for you. Of course he would choose something like that. Professor Steven Grant Rogers, history buff, certified hot nerd, the sweetest man to ever walk the Earth.
You pressed your lips together to prevent yourself from smiling too wide. You didn’t even know why. It wasn’t like he could see you.
“Okay. Waterloo it is,” you said, swiftly moving to the closet when another idea popped in your head.
Slipping into a new outfit before heading back, you were rather satisfied with yourself as you grabbed the two ties you found prior. Not that it would actually hold him – it was about the idea.
“You’re taking a bit long, babygirl…”
“And? You mind?” you teased him, stopping to stand in front of him. “Have some… pressing issues?”
“Keep it up, babygirl, see what happens once this is over,” he bit back, only making you chuckle at the perfect pass.
“I think there’s something else that’s up--- sorry, sorry,“ you mumbled when his hand landed blindly on your thigh.
His brows furrowed when he felt the difference.
“You changed.”
“Uh-huh.”
His hand trailed up curiously, right under your miniskirt and you let him… just until air got stuck in his throat upon finding you with nothing but the generous amount of slick covering your core.
“Fuck-“
“Nope,” you replied cheekily, even if the flicker of his finger caused you to shudder, his touch like liquid fire at this point.
Fuck, you wanted him. You wanted him right now and you wanted him to take you in every way he wanted… but the idea of him at your mercy was appealing enough for you to control yourself.
You grasped his wrist and shoved it away; he allowed it, but not without whining pitifully.
“Lie down, Steve, please. I promise I’ll make it worth your while.”
“You better,” he grunted, unwillingly moving up the bed, obediently spreading out on the sheets and letting you guide his arms up as you climbed over him and tied his wrists together.
“Not too tight?”
He shook his head, a smirk crossing over his lips. You rolled your eyes at the double meaning, but you guessed it served you right.
Oh, but would you wipe that smirk off…
Securing the knot, you shifted to be face to face with him, lips hovering just above his mouth, breathing the same air and hoping to begin the sweet torture.
You had to admire his patience; despite definitely noticing your positions, Steve didn’t move an inch. It was up to you then – and the premise sent another thrill through your veins. Oh, you’d break him in the most delicious ways.
As soon as you erased the distance, his lips sunk into yours hungrily, wet and soft in the contrast to his beard, the sensation you adored, having you squirming above him until you remembered again that you were the one in control.
You kissed him with vigour, licking into his mouth, one hand still where his were joined, the other pressing against his chest. Your tongue met his, revelling at his taste and at another of his tries to dominate the kiss, to set things as they usually were. But as much as you loved it when he took charge… not today.
Parting abruptly, his lips following on instinct, you couldn’t but grin to yourself. Kissed his fingertips, you lingered at the one still glistening with your juices. You took it to your mouth, swirling your tongue around it and sucking lightly, feeling Steve’s heart speed up under your palm like crazy.
When you lightly grazed the skin with your teeth, his groan and the way his hips thrusted upward was the best reward you could get.
Kissing a trail down his arm – because goddammit you loved his arms – you hummed to yourself contentedly whenever you could feel the slightest shift of his body under yours and greedy for more contact, you allowed yourself to put most of your weight fully on him.
The choked sound it elicited from him startled you at first – until you realized that with your skirt hiked up, you weren’t the only one enjoying the skin-on-skin contact, your slick coating Steve’s lower stomach just above his sweats. Hopefully it was giving him ideas – it was certainly was to you.
Rustle of fabric, ragged breaths, occasional smacking noise when you moved up or left a small hickey on his shoulder and above his collarbone. Your fingers toyed gently with his nipples as you kissed his sternum before replacing your hands with your mouth once more, sucking, drawing a quiet whimper from him.
Fuck couldn’t get enough of the noises he was making. The pretty breathless moans of your name, the curses slipping from his lips… it was like music, but on a desperately low volume.
“What is it you always tell me?” you teased, lamely covering for the fact that your own arousal was nearly uncontainable. Shit, you loved how sensitive his nipples were… how much more sensitive he must have been now, no visual, laser focused on every touch instead? You wanted more… so much more. “Don’t hold these pretty sounds from me?”
Steve gritted his teeth at the remark, but as soon as you positioned your heat directly over his hard length and rolled your hips, he sang for you beautifully.
“Shit, sweetheart-“
The rush of confidence, the feeling of power was almost overwhelming – the image of him, lips parted in mute pleasure, certainly was. You were a little too close to climbing your own peak a little too quickly to your liking.
Sitting up straight, you undulated your hips few times, hands tracing patterns over Steve’s rapidly rising chest and abs. Much to his obvious dislike, you all too soon slid lower, your mouth making its way down his abdomen and then you finally, finally rid him of his sweatpants and boxers in one go.
His cock sprang free, hard and red at the tip, leaking just enough to cause your mouth to water and your thighs to rub together to give yourself some of the friction you craved so much.
Hands planted on his hips, you kissed along his hip bones and the apex of his thighs, taking your sweet time exploring everything you could – except for where you suspected he wanted you the most. You had to grin for yourself when you cupped his balls, causing him to hiss in relief, the muscles of his abdomen and legs clenching beautifully.
“Talk to me, Steve,” you hummed as you replaced your hand with your tongue, licking a stripe towards his base.
“Christ- don’t stop--“
“Eloquent as always, Professor,” you retreated, causing him to let out a growly sound you never heard before and had your core tingle, cunt feeling awfully empty.
Christ was right, alright. Seeing his chest heaving, fingers twitching as if he wanted nothing but to tug at your hair to keep you there and stuff your mouth full of his cock---  if you didn’t get some soon, you might actually combust.
So you put your mouth back to work on his sack again, fingers barely curling around the base of his cock, giving a first experimental stroke before you squeezed a bit tighter – and then swiftly moved away, his hips following on instinct in, craving more.
“For fuck’s --- how did I ever think you were sweet and nice?” he complained huskily, impatience lacing his voice.
You chuckled, but heard him out, leaving his balls in order to give more attention to his impressive and possibly painfully hard length.
“Beats me,” you retorted, hands busy with gentle strokes to his shaft. “I mean, we literally got together thanks to you finding out I wrote about sucking and riding your dick right in your office, Professor Rogers.”
“You little-“
His protests died in his throat, features twisting in wordless pleasure when you finally wrapped your lips around the head of his cock, delivering a few kitten licks to the tip. His taste exploded on your tongue, eliciting a content hum which he certainly felt too, because a jerk of his hips pushed him deeper to your mouth.
Slowly swallowing as much as you could without having him hit the back of your throat, you curled your hand tighter around the base and started bobbing your head.  
A string of breathless profanities left his mouth whenever you squeezed, only getting filthier when you hollowed your cheeks. It was all encouragement you needed to take him deeper, giving him a taste of heaven as his tip brushed the back of your throat.
“Babygirl, fuck, fuck, yeah--- just like that…”
Your own arousal became unbearable, a surge of hot need squeezing your insides at Steve’s praise. Slipping a hand under your skirt, you sighed in relief when your fingers caressed your lower lips, hips bucking forward in desperate need of more.
Your predicament was impossible to solve – you wanted him inside you already, so badly, but fuck the picture Steve made, even if blurry as tears prickled your eyes whenever he hit the back of your throat, was just too divine.
Lips crimson with how he kept biting at them to keep at least a little quiet, hair sticking to his forehead, muscles drawn tight like strings as he kept clenching them both unwittingly and consciously in hope to get you where he wanted you and the fresh taste of him whenever you did something he particularly liked--- you simply had to feast your eyes on him. And he couldn’t do the same… or take charge for that matter.
So fucking pretty like this.
And you were the only one seeing him like that, tied up, helpless against the assault on his senses sans vision. He gave himself up to you like that, willingly. The thought warmed you up inside out, enough to drive you nearly as crazy as if you were in his place.
Wasting no time with preparation you didn’t need, you pushed two fingers into your core at once, whimpering around Steve’s cock when you did. Your whole body relaxed, the pent-up desire easing a little and yet burning hotter. You pumped your fingers slowly, the sensation so blissful you had to remind yourself to keep working on Steve too.
Still, your actions didn’t go unnoticed.
“Are you—are you touching yourself, babygirl?” he whispered, tongue peeking out to wet his lips.
It took you a second to swallow the baseless embarrassment and literally swallow, causing Steve to let out a moan so wrecked and pretty you felt your pussy clamp around your fingers.
Hoping your words would come out less shy than you felt when saying them, you released Steve’s length with a wet pop to tease him some more.
“Yeah, I am…. Why? You want a taste?” you asked sweetly, clearing your throat that suddenly felt so empty.
The guttural moan that erupted in Steve’s chest was music to your ears, his cock twitching and glistening with fresh beads of precum a sight to behold.
“Yeah, babygirl… give it to me,” he choked out and the genuine desire in his voice was like a punch to your solar plexus. Your walls clenched around your fingers, the familiar coil in your abdomen tightening.
Swallowing a pitiful sigh at the loss, you stretched over the warm length of Steve’s body, gulping when his own parted in invitation.
Jesus fucking Christ.
Reluctantly, you let the fingers sticky with your juices brush over Steve’s lips, gasping when his tongue instantly slid out to lick at the essence eagerly, his Adam’s apple bobbing.
“Fuck, always so sweet, babygirl…” he muttered, your breath stuck in your throat when his mouth blindly chased after your fingers before you could withdraw your hand.
“Oh my god-“ you choked out, mesmerized, your pussy clamping around nothing.
He sucked greedily, the image alone causing your hips to rut against his, your clit catching against his rock-hard shaft. Your eyes fluttered close in bliss, stars exploding behind your eyelids.
Unwittingly, you worked your hips faster, riding Steve’s thick cock even without having him inside. The friction, the soaked fabric of your skirt brushing against your clit, the sensation of Steve’s tongue lapping at your fingers as if he had his mouth on your pussy instead--- you felt the coil in your belly snap, the world turning white before you knew how.
You came with a broken cry, blissed out and shocked at the sudden release, but riding your pleasure out on instinct.
Grazing your fingers with his teeth as he let go, Steve spoke words so filthy our head spun.
“That’s it, babygirl. Fuck. Look how little my girl needed to come all over my cock. Using me so shamelessly.  You must have really wanted it, didn’t you…” he said, voice hoarse with a tint of smugness as you came back from your high, the dirty talk only already riling you up again.
You had no idea what just happened, but you had a feeling Steve immensely enjoyed it as he somehow got the upper hand on you despite being the one tied up.
For someone who was supposed to have all blood out of his brain and have it in his dick instead, he was way too smug… but you’d reverse it again. He had no idea what was about to hit him.
Stealing a kiss to taste ourself on his tongue, your fingers went to remove the blindfold.
Your professor was, in certain aspects, still just a simple guy – he liked a good visual. It was silly of you to rid him of it in the first place, no matter how much fun you had with it.
Steve blinked in surprise, squinting against the sudden light, while you slipped out of your bralette, leaving you in nothing but your very schoolgirl-like mini skirt. You smiled at him sweetly, kissing his mouth once more, thumb softly brushing his lips as you towered over him, nearly giving him a view of what was under the fabric.
“I always want you,” you whispered with a smile, your hand cupping your breast, gently tweaking your nipple, his gaze following the movement as his fingers twitched. You bit the inside of your cheek, hand slowly trailing down. “Want you to touch me, everywhere. Always so wet and ready for you…”
Dark eyes watched you as you slipped your fingers under the waist of the skirt, a tiny mewl escaping you when the pad of your fingers bumped into your clit.
You would have felt stupid trying to give him a show after you came after almost nothing, but the warning growl of your name once again assured you that unsexy was the last thing that came to Steve’s mind when looking at you. It warmed both your belly and your heart. You almost felt regretful for a moment that you were still keeping him hanging, neglecting his no doubt aching cock, but he thought he had the upper hand here.
He was wrong.
“Always thinking of you… even when I’m alone, always thinking about your fingers, stretching me so good, about you fucking me, so hard till I’m screaming your name,” you continued in hushed voice, revelling at how tight his jaw set, eyes narrowed, breathing once again picking up.
“Babygirl—”
“Oops, sorry,” you chipped, pecking his lips as you withdrew your hand, quickly drawing a trail of kisses down his chest and abdomen, unable to resist a lick here and there where the line of his muscles looked particularly tasty. “Just thought you’d like to see my mouth on you. You like to watch, Professor Rogers, no?”
He never got a chance to answer as you guided him to your mouth again, holding his gaze as he indeed watched, eyebrows furrowing, each breath hitching, soon chanting your name. You caressed his balls as well, tongue tracing the vein on the underside of his length, your other hand firmly around his base.
You were the first to avert his gaze as your eyes fluttered close so you could fully focus on your task, relaxing your throat.
“Babygirl--- fuck me-- I’m gonna-“
You eased up a bit, earning a frustrated growl, the corners of your lips rising a bit as you imagined the ugly glare he must have shot you.
Thinking about it, closing your eyes was a mistake.
You never saw it coming as a hand suddenly sunk into your hair, yanking you up face to face with him, alarmed eyes staring into black ones as his pupils nearly swallowed all the blue or his irises.
He had slipped out of the poorly tied bonds, clearly fed up with your shenanigans.
Ah-oh, sounded in the back of your mind.
Another part of you didn’t fail to notice that despite the swift movement and calling an end to your games, Steve’s fingers were careful not to pull too harshly, making sure he was cradling your head safely. Same when he rolled you over, trapping you under the hard lines of muscle you had been tasting a moment ago, protective cage of his arms around your head.
If you weren’t so startled, you would have swooned.
You never got the chance, because any possible sound was muffled by his mouth crashing into yours, hand slipping from your nape to your throat to keep you in place with a wordless warning, hips pressed to yours just in case you would want to escape.
You would never. Even if you had a hunch Steve was about to ruin you in a way that would have you feel it for days.
Having enough of your mouth for the moment, giving you a chance to gasp for air, he stared at you smugly, one corner of his perfectly red lips raised in a smirk.
“Wicked little thing, aren’t you?” he grunted, thumb caressing the hollow of your throat softly, causing you to gulp.
You summoned your best innocent look, doe-like eyes that usually worked. “S-sorry?”
A flicker of a smile as he forced his knee between your thighs, instantly pressing against your still sensitive core.
“I don’t think you are, babygirl,” he huffed, nosing the crook of your neck, biting down sharper than you expected, a yelp erupting from your throat. He soothed in with the pad of his thumb, smiling wide, something soft in his eyes when he looked at you again. You were so fucking baffled at what that meant. ”That perfect filthy mind of yours… and you still get a bit shy, huh?”
“W-what?”
“You know what I think, babygirl?” he whispered intimately, teeth grazing the shell of your ear. “I think that you left the document opened on purpose.”
Your rapidly beating heart stopped in your chest, wind knocked out of you completely.
Fuck.
You were so busted.
Steve had read you like a book wide open--- because of course he did.
Yes, there had been a great part of you who wished for him to see it, hoping in this exact outcome; there had been an equally great part dreading what he would think about you. Writing the story down, you were thinking a bit more with your pussy than your brain though, so you decided to leave it for Steve to read. If he went for it, maybe you’d get something from it. If he didn’t, you’d move on. No harm no fool, right?
Right. No.
Now he did know and saw right through your little trick. And damn, did he look proud of himself for figuring it out. You were in so much trouble.
Somehow, you were as horrified as excited.
Steve chuckled as you swallowed against your suddenly dry throat, eyes no doubt wide as saucers.
“Oh, you did. Too shy to ask for it, leaving that to me instead. My sneaky, needy girl,” he muttered, fondness and humour with a dark lilt in his voice.
“I—I didn’t know how-“ you stuttered, feeling your face burning in embarrassment at his tone, just a smidge patronizing.
You averted his gaze, a vain attempt really, knowing he wouldn’t let you. Slipping two fingers under your chin, he guided you to face him again.
“Didn’t know how… hmm… so you thought you’d play me? That’s really naughty, sweetheart.”
“I’m sorry… Professor Rogers,” you added quickly in hopes to mollify him, indeed earning a sweet kiss.
“Oh, it’s okay, babygirl. You know why?” he tested you and you could only shake your head lightly, guessing at best what kind of revenge awaited you. “Because you’re my good girl and you’ll let me settle the score. I’ll play with you now. It’s only fair, no?”
Oh fuck, here it came.
For a brief second, his lust-filled eyes appeared startingly clear and sober, boring into yours with a serious question.
It’s only fair, no? he had said.
It’s alright with you if the roles reverse, right? was what he was truly asking, checking, always checking if you were okay, just like you had been checking with him.
Because sex was fun, but only if all parties were on board.
Because Steve was sweet, considerate, soft and loving and he was everything you ever looked for in a man and more. You trusted him. You always did and you trusted him now – he would make you feel so so good. It was never really a question.
“Y—yes, it is.”
“Good girl,” he praised you, causing your core to weep. And he knew it, oh did he know and shamelessly used it against you... a little payback to all the professor you’d been throwing around. “Close your eyes.”
And you did. The blindfold came first, then hands, his fingers skimming over your forearms teasingly, feather-light touch on your sensitive skin, before he finally brought them up and tied them together.
“You ready, sweetheart?”
No, you were absolutely not ready, but your body was buzzing with desire again at that point, so you breathed a soft yes. And maybe, just maybe… no matter how you had enjoyed driving him crazy, cheeky and full of feeling of power, this felt like home. Because you trusted him – and so you gave yourself to him wholly.
He hummed in contentment as you confirmed, causing you shiver as he nosed the skin under your ear. “Good. Because I’m going to wreck you for that little stunt of yours.”
His words tickled the sensitive skin and shit, okay, your nerve endings were tingling, the sensation amplified tenfold with your eyes covered. Steve really was going to wreck you.
Mouth moving to your breast, he took the nipple in his mouth, shifting so the head of his cock nudged at your weeping opening, pushing just a bit with a promise of a delicious stretch, almost, almost there.
“Please,” was all you managed to breathe out, growing impatient, hissing when gave a playful bite to the underside of your breast, sending a surge of arousal through your veins. You back arched, a mewl escaping your when Steve moved his hips away completely, denying you.
“And you’re gonna take it, aren’t you?” he muttered to your skin, lips trailing lower and lower, warm and soft, beard leaving behind a delicious burn.
“Y- yes.”
“Good girl. And what else are you going to do? Tell me,” he encouraged you, large palms pushing your thighs apart so he could fit the insanely broad shoulders between them.
Mind foggy with need, senses overwhelmed, you still had enough wits to understand what he wanted to hear.
“Thank you,” you breathed out.
“Damn straight.” His words were a damp hot blow of air against your mound, causing your hips to jolt as if your body was begging to be taken apart by him already – blissfully aware of how he would put it back together again.
And with an inevitable scratch to your lower lips and a kitten lick to your swollen bud for starters, Steve did.
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Attached masterlist
S.R. masterlist
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I sincerely apologize for twisting the prompt and not even being able to write a soft enough fic the one time I’m supposed to.
But I hope you enjoyed anyway.  I mean, if you made it to the end…
Thank you for reading :-*
Your Anika I’m-Not-a-Smut-Writer Ann
P.S. Fic loosely relates to one of the reblogs of this series: “You know one good thing about being an erotic writer is - you don’t have to talk about your embarrassing kinks. You want to tie your boyfriend up? You just email him a story about it 'subtly’ hinting at it.” Close enough?
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anika-ann · a month ago
Text
Hell Froze Over - Pt.4
The Confidant
Type: mini-series to a series (part 1 & part 2 & part 3 & part 4),  Avenger!reader AU.
Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader       Word count: 3000
Summary: There’s a new enhanced on a scene, showing up at places of the Avengers’ fights. She’s fast. Really, really fast.
Taken in, Katie should have predicted the number of tests the would be running. She didn’t. And now she has a problem.
Warnings: mention of death in a family and grieving, brief mention of medical procedues, mention of hypothermia, language
A/N: So… I’m here, once again, to remind you that the Endgame as we know it never happened. Also, the POV will be shifting during the scene, sorry for that… you’ll see why soon enough. Enjoy!
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Previous part
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The plan, apart from waiting for all sorts of results, was to find out everything you could about Katie’s condition. And about her since she wasn’t willing to give you anything, but that goal was left unspoken.
Clint had offered to babysit for a little longer in favour to let you at least shower. You could use some rest too, but the obvious problem with the girl wouldn’t allow you to have such luxury, if only because the thought of her being in the lab would have kept you awake. And of course, the idea of you dealing with it while Steve would go to sleep was ridiculous and unimaginable for him, which meant no rest for him either.
So you showered together, deciding to be a bit more sleep deprived. Because not getting enough sleep was apparently in Avengers’ job description.  
When you re-entered the laboratory, you could tell Katie was feeling much better. There was a nervous smile on her face as Clint was telling her something and that sight brought a smile to your lips too.
“Hey, you look better,” you noted, rewarded by her pleased expression, something sparking in her irises. She waved at you in a greeting, showing off her hand that had a natural colour now. You nodded in acknowledgement of that fact.
“Thank you. I feel better. The chocolate was amazing and really helped,” Katie gushed, amazed at being here. As bittersweet as it was… she loved it here and wished she could stay much longer.
Clint leaned forward, his hands pushing onto his thighs to help him stand up. “Alright, I see I’m not needed, or-“
A beep of the computer Bruce was still sitting at interrupted Clint’s theatrical wounded note. Bruce looked at it, clinking on the announcement. Several sets of toned lines appeared of the screen and Katie immediately recognized a DNA test.
Panicking in an instant, she used the power she kept hidden from the Avengers she just met. The world around her froze, the time in the lab as if stopping, leaving everyone but her unmoving.
Katie stared at the monitor, biting her lip and grimacing as she realized just how badly she had screwed up. She should have foreseen it dammit, she should have never let them draw blood, because it was only natural that they would run this test as well.
And of course the software found matches. Goddammit, she should have expected it! But she was so distracted by the fact she met you, by the terrible mess it could make and yet how it felt like a blessing, a miracle.
There were two matches to the DNA database.
Obviously.
She couldn’t even imagine the consequences if you found out. She needed to get rid of the evidence – and she needed to do it quickly. But how the hell should she do that? She had no fucking idea how the operating system worked; not this one anyway.
The solution seemed obvious, but her heart was beating its way out of her chest at it, because it was a terrible idea. There was no way she should bring anyone else into this, but at the same time, she didn’t really have another option, did she?
You were completely out of question, obviously, as much as she hated it. Your fiancé as well, maybe even more so. Clint? He would never agree to that and she wasn’t sure he knew how to delete the results anyway.
She bit her lip harder as she looked at Bruce. Well. Technically, it was a bit of his fault she was here in the first place, so… yeah.
She sighed and gently touched his shoulder to unfreeze him; she always liked the physical contact better, it helped her to control her powers, even though she didn’t need it per se.
He looked up to check the results and she could only imagine how his eyes went impossibly wide.
On the monitor, there were two matches for her DNA, none of her own, because she couldn’t be in any database. Not yet. But the system found the closest matches – her parents.
Captain America and Frostbite.
Bruce’s head snapped to Katie and he seemed shocked to find her standing right behind him. Then he noticed no one else was looking over his shoulder and they were frozen in positions. His jaw slacked, eyes locking with hers.
“What the— how did you do that?”
She swallowed loudly as a hint of green crept up his neck. Shit, she so didn’t need him to Hulk-out now – that she hadn’t thought through, she should have considered that freaking Bruce out might unleash the other guy! Was there anything she hadn’t messed up just yet? Her brain was supposed to be fast!
She prayed the truth would do the job and calmed him down a little, as crazy as the things she as about to say would sound.
“Sorry! It’s… uhm, it’s the other ability of mine, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you but I swear I’m not here to hurt anyone!” she stammered hastily and there must have been something in her expression, something she would be grateful for the rest of her life, that caused the green to subdue, at least for now.
“What— you can… what, stop time?” he queried, eyebrows furrowing in curiosity. Ah, the scientist’s side came out instead. Guessed she could work with that.
Still, she made a face at his wording. She kept using a different term, as a tribute of some sort. She was freezing the time, or rather people and objects.
“Pretty much. U-- Bruce, you can’t tell anyone about this,” she pleaded, her gaze flickering to the monitor where the results were still in plain sight, accusing and unquestionable.
Despite his better judgement, Bruce took his eyes off her; something about her sincerity must have made him believe she wouldn’t hurt him, which she wouldn’t of course. His skin returned to normal entirely, but the tension was still visible in his shoulders. He stared at the results that didn’t make any more sense than her powers – not to him at least.
Not yet.
“How did you do this? How did you manage to manipulate it?” he demanded, completely at loss as to why the hell were the result ‘off’.
Katie just sighed. And here it comes…
“I… I didn’t. I didn’t do anything. It’s all them. And the laws of genetics, really,” she explained reluctantly, her voice strangled.
The moment of truth.
Bruce’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion and he glanced at her once more until his eyes widened. He looked at the monitor again, then at the two frozen Avengers in question, back at her again and at the monitor, seeing it in a completely different light. Katie’s heart skipped several beats.
Supersoldier’s daughter or not, she still had feelings and her body reacted to them – and she was… scared of what was about to come.
“Wh— how-- what? That’s not-“ he stammered, shooting the trio an incredulous look again before his gaze settled on her for uncomfortably long.
She could tell he was examining her features. Her blond hair she had after her dad, her eyes she luckily took after her mother, after you, so she carried a piece of you and she could see it every day when she looked in a mirror. Her dad claimed she had your smile too; and there was always a shadow of grief when he said so.
When Bruce’s gaze fell to her necklace, she knew that rationally, he had to believe her; she automatically reached for the accessory to fumble with, a terrible habit she had gained soon after receiving it.
A little something to remember her mother by – a snowflake charm. Katie’s gaze automatically flickered to you, the tell-tale burn of tears causing a lump to grow in her throat. She quickly tried to shook it off; she had no time for that now.
“But… is… wait, so time-travelling a thing?”
She gave an awkward smile. It wasn’t like she could keep the truth from him – it was obvious. “Yeah. From the time where I come from… yeah.”
He observed her in silent awe and she wondered what shocked him more. The fact she was from a freaking future – somehow – or the fact that… that she was his friends’ daughter.
She bet that was a bit too much to handle.
“The problems you have now… with the cold. They are the same as—” he gestured to your figure, slowly processing the information. “Oh my god. That’s-“
“That really has never happened to me before,” she admitted. “It must be the side effect of… time-travelling, must have exhausted me in a way I never was before. I did take a lot after my parents-“ her gaze flickered to Steve’s frozen form and yours – oh dear god, it was still so hard to believe she was really here with you. “Fast metabolism… like really fast, and… freezing people and objects.”
Bruce heavily leaned his back onto the seat, taking the information in. This was… impossible, he thought. And somehow, as the evidence was standing right in front of his eyes… it was clearly possible.
“So you’re really… really their--- hold on, so when you were talking about your uncles and aunts, did you mean-“
Katie smiled at him warmly this time. “Yeah. I was talking about you too, Uncle Bruce.”
Bruce blinked in surprise as the addressing rolled off her tongue as easily as if she was using it on daily basis. Which she was.
He chuckled incredulously, breathless. “Wow. That’s-“
“Insane? Yeah. The problem is, as happy as I am to meet mum, I shouldn’t have-“
Bruce leaned forward quickly, reaching out his hand to stop her nervous babble. “Whoa, whoa, wait. What do you mean ‘meet’? You never met? Why wouldn’t you--- but you met Steve? What— …oh. Shit… shit.”
Katie’s jaw went slack at the curse word leaving her uncle’s lips, but at the same time, the surprise was so unimportant in comparison to the grief that covered her in a heavy blanket like always.  
And she watched realization dawn on her uncle’s face, melting into sorrow and horror – and she could tell that his mind was racing too.
“Did you… did you come here to stop… whatever is about to happen to her?” he asked her warily, his eyes compassionate, yet strict. “I… it’s a horrible thing to say, but you can’t do that. Just you coming here, meeting up, it could completely mess up-“
She chuckled humourlessly, several tears escaping her eyes.
“You think I don’t know that? That me being here could… change everything? It’s too soon for me to do that, but I know that by coming here, I could even endanger my own conception. I could never be born, erased from reality, creating a time paradox, because if I was never born, then I could never come here and interrupt my conception, but then I would be born, et cetera et cetera and it could destroy the reality as we know it, our whole world sucked up in a worm hole or something,” she recited rapidly, blinking away more tears, because goddammit, it hurt to say it out loud.
Because she wanted to changed it. So badly. And Bruce just stared at her, rendered speechless. She couldn’t help a tiny smug smile at his baffled face. “Your words, not mine.”
“What-?”
“You were there before – you will be there before I come here. We would talk a lot about it,” she explained gently, swallowing against the pain that started to take over her body.
She was using her powers for too long now, keeping three Avengers frozen. An she did take after you a lot.
Bruce took off his glasses, rubbing his eyes at her admission. Katie could tell he had no trouble understanding what was happening – but it was whole new level of crazy and he remembered fighting aliens and army of robots.
“Okay,” he sighed, looking straight into Katie’s eyes. “I won’t tell them. But… we have to send you back. How do we get you back? I mean, if you continue being here…”
Dread filled Katie’s whole being, pain forgotten.
No!
“I have a way to come back,” she reassured him quickly. “Just… just give me one more day? Please! I--- just one more day with her. She’s… she’s so amazing, Uncle Bruce! She’s… she’s so beautiful and badass and kind, and… and the way dad’s looking at her, it’s— and he’s so happy. He’s… I can’t even remember seeing him like this. I don’t think I ever have.”
Her heart felt like bleeding at the idea of leaving you so soon again – and she could tell that Bruce understood… or understood enough.
And he did.
You were about to die. You were about to die, your daughter either never meeting you or not remembering you at all, Steve losing you--- all of them were about to lose you. God, you were so young. How much time did you have now? Katie had said it would be too soon now for her to… cause herself not being… well, conceived, but still. He couldn’t just let that happen! But at the same time, the time paradox-
He grumbled tiredly, massaging the bridge of his nose. What the hell should he do with all this?
“Why, Katie… why would you come here, why would you tell me of all people-“
“Well, you’re the only one I knew could erase the result of the test-“
He shot her a look and she didn’t dare to finish the sentence.
“That was rhetorical question. How am I supposed to deal with it? How can I keep it a secret? Why should I? Katie, you just told me my friend is gonna— and—Jesus Christ,” he cursed loudly, taking a deep calming breath.
“Sorry?” Katie quipped, offering to share precious information as an apology. “Also… it’s… it’s Grace. My name is Grace.”
Bruce huffed when he felt as if the weight of the whole world fell on his shoulders, but as he watched her, he knew she must have felt exactly the same, maybe even worse. He understood – well, he could pretend to understand why she had done it, how she must have felt. Wanting to see her mother alive, just this once. If there had been an opportunity to travel back in time, how could anyone blame her? Even with the risks?
And yet, somehow, she was still trying to be responsible, asking him to delete the record, so she wouldn’t mess up the future – had she known exactly who she had been saving when helping the Avengers too? Had they been people she knew would survive anyway? Had she been that careful? Bruce had a feeling she had done her research and the answer was yes-
God, how much strength it had to take not to tell you that she was your daughter? Not to save your life?
Well, he was about to find out. Christ, how was he gonna live with that? When you… when you would die, oh god, how was he gonna live with himself, knowing he could have prevented it?
“Uncle Bruce, please. I can’t keep it much longer. I’m getting cold again.”
He shot her a horrified look as her hands started once again losing their natural colour. Damn the pain, she lived with pain her whole life; the uncontrollable shivers that attacked her again, that was new and it was a problem.
“Dammit!”
Bruce quickly spun to the computer and slipped the glasses back in their place, wanting to cover her tracks. His index finger hovered above the delete button.
Oh, this was such a wrong thing to do… and yet the only right thing.
“Please.”
He hit the button with a sigh.
“I’m a terrible actor, you know,” he rasped, trying to regain composure, preparing himself for playing a charade.
“I know,” she chuckled, the sound unfairly humourless. She climbed back to the chair, pulling the blankets over her to cover the sudden – sudden for the frozen people when being unfrozen, that was – change. “You couldn’t keep my birthday party secret, not once in eighteen years. Ready?”
“Not even close. Just let go so you won’t hurt yourself… Grace.”
She gave him a watery smile, shaky, and she curled up into the covers. She took a deep breath in and released the people she was holding as prisoners.
“-or wanted, so I’m just gonna go. You guys have fun,” Clint finished and you rolled your eyes, patting his arm.
“Sure, you go, old man. You look like you need rest.”
“Steve, your girl is being rude. Put her in line,” Clint grumbled. “She has the ball to call me old.”
“I will. Thanks for… waiting here. We needed a clean-up at least,” Steve said honestly and Clint made a face, twisted in disgust.
“So didn’t need to know that.”
You rolled your eyes again at whatever direction Clint’s thoughts went and rather shifted your attention to Katie. When you looked at her properly, your eyebrows furrowed.
You would swear she had looked better. She had, right? She seemed so small in the covers now…
“Oh my, you didn’t get all that better, did you? Let me—let me make you, uhm-- you want another chocolate? Or rather a tea?” you offered sincerely, as lame as it was.
“She makes a mean tea,” Bruce hummed absently, checking the results of the tests.
“Thanks, you never told me that!” you smiled at him, pleased. One would say there was nothing special about making a good tea, but hey, it could be a rocket science, okay?
A brief panic seemed to flicker over Bruce’s face for some reason before he smiled awkwardly. “I thought it was implied.”
You chuckled and turned back to Katie, still awaiting her answer. She was definitely worse than just a moment ago. Strange.
“I’d like to try that tea, then…”
“Coming right up.”
Katie’s gaze followed you reverentially and Bruce suddenly realized, that as much as his consciousness led him to praise you for no reason, it was nothing in comparison to how obvious she was. It was so easy to spot the fascination now when he had an explanation for it. He gave the girl a knowing look, his eyes turning glassy.
How the hell was he going to deal with all this mess?
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Part 5
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Reminding you again, that this was written before Endgame. I know it’s not explained in this fic how this situation happened, how they fixed the universe and ended up alive – but they did not time-travel :)
And someone give Bruce a hug, please. That was mean of me to load that on him, but he was a clear choice.
Katie’s necklace if you’re interested
I was kinda excited about this chapter :)) Please, let me know what you think… and thank you for reading.
(Also, I’m not denying heavy inspiration from one TV series, I’m not gonna name O:-) If you know, you know, if not, even better.)
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the-soot-sprite · a month ago
⭐️ put this star into the inbox of your favorite blogs. it’s time to spread positivity! ⭐️
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You’re so sweet @anika-ann Right back at you
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captain-kelli · a month ago
⭐️ put this star into the inbox of your favorite blogs. it’s time to spread positivity! ⭐️
YOU’RE FAR TOO SWEET TO ME!
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sophiria · a month ago
⭐️ put this star into the inbox of your favorite blogs. it’s time to spread positivity! ⭐️
Thank you so much Anika! ☺️ 💛 Sending it back to you! ⭐️⭐️
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anika-ann · a month ago
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Hell Froze Over - Pt.2
The Biggest Lead So Far
Type: mini-series to a series (part 1 & part 2 & part 3 & part 4),  Avenger!reader AU.
Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader       Word count: 2200
Summary: There’s a new enhanced on a scene, showing up at places of the Avengers’ fights. She’s fast. Really, really fast. And Wanda can’t read her mind.
So far, she has been helping. But surely it’s only a matter of time before she switches switch sides – otherwise she would have approached you instead of speeding away.
You had a problem. And you needed a solution.
Warnings: Tony being a jerk, a bit of inuendo, pseudo-science, language… oh and extreme fluff
A/N: Watch out, I’m posting two chapters today as a treat... because this one is rather short.
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Previous part
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You were five minutes in digging into all the locations the Rush-girl had showed up at, when a pang sounded in the room. You looked up at the screen curiously, peripherally seeing the others doing the same.
Your eyes widened as another dot appeared on the map of locations. The strangest thing was that while all other locations were marked red, this one was marked blue.
“The hell…?” Clint questioned, sounding as confused as the rest of you, while you all exchanged puzzles glances.
Before a theory could form, the door into the conference room flew open, revealing Tony Stark himself again.
“Hello, my clueless friends,” he hummed with a grin, causing you to sigh and sag into your seat. Great. Now Tony I’m-Smarter-Than-All-Of-You-Combined Stark was coming out to play.
“I thought you had a place to be,” Sam noted sarcastically, his gaze returning to the screen again.
Tony scoffed. “I did. Now I have to be here for my big reveal.”
“Which is?” you asked, slightly annoyed. Okay, more than slightly. One look towards Steve told you he felt the same; Tony was keeping secrets and was being smug. Again. That was never good.
“Avengers, I present you – our Rush-girl’s current position!” Tony called out ceremonially, smirking as he looked around the conference table, taking in the shocked expressions.
Wait, what?
Your heart skipped a beat. Her… what? How? How could he possibly-?
“What do you mean?” Steve demanded, leaning forward in his chair, watching the billionaire with eyebrows raised.
“What I said, Rogers. I put a tracker on her. It was supposed to activate after an hour, so she wouldn’t notice it immediately. It’s an hour, so here we go.”
He emphasized the last sentence with a clap of his hands, gesturing towards the map.
The room fell silent apart from the quiet beeping still announcing the address. Everyone was staring, clearly too confused and too sceptical to speak up.
To be honest, you were sceptical too. The girl had been on your radar for three weeks and just now, Tony miraculously placed a tracker on her? Just like that? What kind of a deal with the devil had he made? And you meant the actual Devil not Matt, you had handled that one – not that Matt had been any help in this particular case. His ears actually hurt when he caught the supersonic speed noise, so he tended to avoid it rather than follow it.
Tony reciprocated Steve’s stare you, his eyebrow arched cockily. You scanned the room, seeing no one was about to break the silence again.
You sighed in resignation. It seemed you were about to be the one to humour the billionaire who needed to be reminded times and times again that he was the brilliant one. You could scoff; as if he was the only smart person in the room.
Just at that thought, you sighed again and rolled your eyes. Tony’s face lit up in response as he recognized your breaking point.
“Alright, genius. How did you place a tra-“
“I’m so glad you asked!” he cheered like a freaking five-year-old and approached the screen rapidly, only to start a new hologram next to it. Some numbers, diagrams and schemes appeared, not hinting you at all what he was about to tell you.
Great.
“So, as you probably know, I tried to bug her before. Somehow, she kept escaping me despite my outside-the-box ideas.” Collective eye-roll followed, but not one verbal answer. “Our Speedy was just too fast, escaping.”
“Right. You could almost say she was rushing away,” Clint noted, earning a glare from Natasha. Tony snickered and held out a hand for a high-five. Clint happily obliged.
“Go on,” Bucky prompted Tony with a sigh. “How did you manage to match her speed?”
Tony grinned in response. “That’s it. I didn’t. I just figured that even a hummingbird like herself had to stop at some point.”
“Alright, this is a good one, I give you that,” Natasha noted and you snorted. She wasn’t wrong, obviously, but if even Natasha was willing to say that Tony was right? Wow.
“Okay. And?” Steve urged, shooting you a betrayed look for falling for Tony’s jokes. You just smiled back at him, all innocence.
“And the key was to figure out when that would happen. Well, kinda. I never knew and never will, because miss Mind-reader over here is useless with this chic.”
Wanda narrowed her eyes, while Vision gently placed a hand on her shoulder, while his glare could be as well throwing daggers at Tony.
“Tony-“ You scolded him for being an ass, but Wanda was quick to interrupt you.
“No, it’s alright. He’s not wrong. She’s just blocking me and I should be able to read her, but I’m… not.”
“That’s not your fault. Certainly isn’t or the lack of trying or too low skill level,” Steve interjected kindly, causing you to smile, your hand automatically moving to cover his.
As far as intelligence went, his emotional one was considerably higher than Tony’s… most of the time. Not that other kinds were drastically lower – you liked to think your fiancé was brilliant, thank you very much.
“Anyway. Long story short, I created a tiny bot to be drawn to her kinetic energy, so it followed her and the moment she stopped, it just, mwah-“ Tony explained, accompanying the smacking sound with his hands connecting, interlacing his fingers. “Forever in love.”
“Boom! Let’s get her then,” Sam cheered, jumping to his feet – only to be stop by Tony’s patronizing smile and gesture to sit down again.
“Not you, Icarus. You need to work at your interpersonal skills still.”
“Yeah, leave it to the professionals-“
“You’re not coming either, Clint,” Tony humbled him with a tight-lipped smile, gesturing for him to stay seated, while Sam once again fell on his ass as well.
“Why not? I’m a great interpersonal—person,” Clint protested grumpily, but didn’t really argue.
You couldn’t help it; the corners of your lips twitched upright at his wording.
A snap of fingers echoed in the room and everyone turned to Bruce, whose face was shining with excitement. “You want Frosty to go.”
“Bingo!”
You gulped, your heart beating your way out of your chest at the mention of ne of your many nicknames.
“What? Why me?”
“Because, Popsicle, you’re cold,” Tony said matter-of-factly.
“No, I’m not!” you protested swiftly, crossing your arms on your chest, slightly insulted. You weren’t--- you weren’t cold! Hell, Natasha teased you sometimes you couldn’t be a spy like her, because you just didn’t have the ability to be mean; unless someone was threatening your family. “I’m nice! You know what they say! Hands cold, heart of…---oh,” you paused mid-sentence as realization hit you, chasing a flush to your cheeks at your error. “Not that kind of cold.”
Well, that made more sense. He was talking about your powers, because… because….? Why were you the person for the job again?
You pursed your lips, trying to figure out the reason as it lied at your fingertips, just out of reach.
“Yeah. Guess what – the particles of her body are moving fast, creating a lot of heat, and heat can only be stopped by-?“ Tony hinted you, gesturing towards you dramatically, realization dawning to you.
Right.
“Yeah, I get it, I’m not that stupid, okay…” you hummed, mind already racing as to how would it go. You weren’t confident that the answer was ‘well’.
Obviously, you were flattered that you were the one trusted with this, but simultaneously it felt like you were the only option. And not having another option led to bad decisions. Like trusting you with this. You. Apparently not the whole team.
You bit your lip as you felt everyone’s eyes on you. “Please, tell me someone’s coming with me.”
“Sure thing, doll. I’ll go,” Bucky shrugged before Steve could even say a word.
You blinked in surprise, shooting Tony a questioning gaze. He was the one coming up with the idea, after all. You were curious about what his plan was, even when Steve was usually the one running the op – for a good reason too. You still remembered what Tony’s response to ‘we need a plan of attack’ had been.
“Really, Buck?” your fearless fiancé complained, clearly insulted – and rightfully worried for you.
Because as far you knew, he always wanted to be there by your side, watching your back. And you needed him there; as he squeezed your hand in reassurance, you already felt better.
You’re not alone.
I believe in you.
You felt calmer at instant, a small smile spreading on your lips as you turned to him, meeting his warm blue eyes. You smiled a little wider when you felt his thumb run over the back of your hand.
Tony cleared his throat, making you return the attention to him. He was watching you with raised eyebrows, but he didn’t fool you – you could see the content spark in his eyes, because as smug and cheeky he was, he was simply happy for you.
“Are you done gazing into each other’s eyes? Because you have a stray Rush-girl to catch.”
The heavy weight falling off of your shoulders when learning Steve truly was the one coming with you had to be heard in Jersey at least.
“Hey! Why is he coming and not me?” Natasha complained with a teasing note and Tony actually rolled his eyes, seemingly annoyed.
“I would go myself, but people still seem to have a crush on our dear Captain, despite his time as a fugitive. He’s coming to do the PR part. I heard he’s giving good spontaneous speeches, the disappointed dad look and all that.”
“Well, he’s not wrong about that,” Bucky noted with a one-sided shrug, earning many hums in agreement from around the room.
Tony clapped his hands.
“Chop-chop. Come on. No time to waste. We won’t wait seventy years for you to-“
“Snowflake, would you be so kind to freeze him mouth?” Steve pleaded, but tugged at your hand gently so you would be on your way, because Tony did have a point.
“Oh why? Does she ever kiss you to freeze yours? Are you into little ice-play?” Tony retorted with a smirk, not at all feeling threatened by the request.
Your skin cringed at him poking your love-life again; Steve’s grip grew stronger too, especially when he could hear Bucky, Clint and Sam snicker, while Vision just asked what kind of game that was, causing Wanda to whisper something in his ear.
“Anthony Stark, I swear to God-“ you started, but Steve just dragged you away, seemingly not carring that you nearly tripped over your feet as he did so.
You breathed out slowly as the door clicked behind you and glanced at Steve’s face, only to see the tips of his ears pink.
Aww, he was blushing! That almost made Tony’s teasing worth it. You nudged Steve’s side tenderly.
“Are you?”
“What?” he yelped, faltering in his steps.
You gasped as his cheeks turned red as well. No way.
“Wait, you are?!” you exclaimed, genuinely shocked.
Really? After seventy years of being stuck in the ice…? And how had you not figured that one out before? You had icy superpowers for god’s sake! Sure, you hated using your abilities against him, but… how had it not come up, like ever?
“Now’s really not the time-“
You grabbed the leather strap on his right shoulder, pulling him behind the corner, Lips pressing against his firmly. He drew in a startled breath, but slowly melted into the kiss, allowing himself a moment before jumping straight into another mission.
Heart pounding despite the sweet familiarity of feeling his mouth against yours, you carefully let a little coldness in, just a pinch of chill between your lips. Steve’s breath hitched, sending your heart into frenzy. Oh boy.
“Don’t-“ he warned you silently as he retreated, squeezing your hip. Your fingertips tingled at the order. Your lips brushed his again, nothing but warm this time and smiled against his mouth.
You did have a mission, after all.
“We are exploring this,” you promised as you hid your head in the crook of his neck. Feeling brave, you placed a soft cold kiss there too. Goosebumps erupted on his skin immediately, but you had a hunch that there was more to that reaction, especially when he grunted in response. “Sorry. Couldn’t help myself.”
“I cannot believe you became such a tease.”
Steve kissed your temple, running his hand over your side, his fingers tickling you. You giggled and tried to escape the torture.
“Don’t you dare—” you warned him, his pointed look telling you that he was just giving you a atste of your own medicine. Which was fair, you supposed. You mouthed a sorry, not feeling apologetic in the slightest. The things you’d do later… “Good to know we know each other’s soft spot now, I guess.”
As you retreated completely and he shook his head at your childishness, you were met with his tender smile, his eyes watching you with so much affection you just didn’t feel like you could contain it. God, you were such a lucky woman.
Steve spent another precious moment caressing your cheek with his knuckles, tugging a loose strand of hair behind your ear.
“I would think you know my soft spot for a long time, Snowflake,” he whispered softly, pressing a kiss to your forehead.
You shifted a bit, pressing a kiss to his fingertips, before you returned your gaze to his eyes, letting yourself drown in the sea of warm blue. “As you know mine.”
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Part 3
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If you feel nothing is happening, you’re probably right. For now - which is a part of the reason why I’m posting two chapters in a row. 
It’s all fluffy and sweet as cotton candy, but… maybe you should stash it somewhere for the rainy days. Just saying ;)
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anika-ann · a month ago
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No Strings Attached
Chuck vs. Attached
aka the crossover ahead of us.
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Attention Attached readers!
I’m still working on the sequel to Attached. 
Announcement about the crossover in works is here.
The first tiny peek is here.
And the unecessary characters summaries no one but @annathesillyfriend​ asked about?😘 Below.
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I’m sorry, I cannot possibly hope to capture the brilliantly hilarious essence of these characters… but there’s a lot of background on them at least and I tried ;)
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anika-ann · a month ago
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Prompts for the challenge are still available... but there are also fics already submitted 🥰
Check out all these amazing authors and their words! (Theirs and only theirs, I own nada, just putting them all in one spot.)
Please, mind the warnings which are at the top of each fic before diving in.
(fics listed in chronological order as they have been sent to me)
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Stay Alive
by @just-one-ordinary-fangirl Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader  Prompt:  “Just breathe, okay? Deep breaths, come on.” Summary: It should be the happiest day of yours and Steve’s lives, your wedding day. But tragedy strikes…
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lend me your hand (we’ll conquer them all)
by @rodrikstark, series Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader Prompt: Crossover - Pacific Rim AU Summary: after the jaeger program rejects him multiple times, steve rogers needs to prove that he can be Drift compatible with at least one person. he enlists your help. (aka FAKE “DATING” but make it PACIFIC RIM)
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You Cut A Mean Rug, Doll Face
by @what-is-your-backupplan-today Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader Prompt: Fake dating Summary: It’s no secret that Bucky Barnes has women falling at his feet, but it’s very rarely the other way round. He’s the love ‘em and leave ‘em type, well according to Steve anyway. So, when you find him hiding to avoid a certain Private’s advances, it amuses you no end…until she shows up and you find yourself offering to be his ‘Fake Date’ for Stark’s upcoming USO Gala Dance. Fake Dating in the middle of a war…what could possibly go wrong?
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The Blind Date
by @chase-your-dreams-away  Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader Prompt: Mistaken identity Summary:  You agree to go on a blind date for the first time in your life, is it really a good idea or you’ll regret it?
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Captain of the Football Team 
by @secretswiftymarvelfan​ Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader Prompt: college AU Summary: College is a time to meet new people, branch out. Thanks to it being a small world you also meet some old faces.
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...
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anika-ann · a month ago
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My Timid Hello, My Clumsy Goodbye (S.R.)
Type: one-shot, canon semi-compliant?
Pairing: Steve Rogers x Barton!reader    Word count: 8900 (...sorry)
Summary: You’re spending the evening and the night before your wedding with the two most important men of your life.
When the sun rises again, you’ll say your ‘I do’ in a close circle of friends and family. It’s not a goodbye to your old life and it’s not a hello to some enormous change; but you will no longer be a Barton. You will be a Rogers. Why not reminisce a bit? 
Warnings: mention of an abandoned baby, blood and injuries, alcohol, implied possibly rougher sex (nothing graphic) ...mature?, language, so much sappiness... let me know if I missed any
A/N: For what-is-your-backupplan-today 10th anniversary of CA:TFA challenge. Prompts in bold. Thank you for coming up with this wonderful theme and hosting this challenge! Long live CA:TFA!
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A/N: Throughout the fic, you’ll find snippets of lyrics from SYML’s "Everything All At Once”. Honestly, the song has a completely different meaning to me, but tearing it out of context works for this story just fine :) When you’re done reading, I recommend the music video. It friggin’ broke me in the worst and best ways. Enjoy!
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This is my hello This is my clumsy goodbye I'm putting my glass down I wanna remember tonight
Tony rented an island for you. Clint nearly passed out learning about it and grumbled for days about having a hard time to top that, which, no arguing, was understandable.
It was an incredibly extravagant thing to do, throwing around money that could have been used for a much more honourable cause, but you couldn’t complain. One should not look a gifted horse into mouth – and so you didn’t.
Because Tony Stark renting an island was his premature wedding gift. The fact that your brother bitched about not being able to top that, well, that was his problem. You were certain that deep down, he knew you didn’t need any fancy gifts like that.
Then again, Tony’s gift might have been epically overpriced, but not exactly unthoughtful; along with a private island came a private jet and you being literally flied under radar so no single paparazzi knew where you and America’s golden boy Steve Rogers would seal the deal with your ‘I do.’ So, you were everything but ungrateful to your friend that he succeeded at pulling off such covert operation; and frankly, this place was nothing short of wonderful.
The golden sand was pleasantly warm under your toes as you as you and Clint walked towards the two single beach chairs facing the ocean. Wearing bikini under the baggy t-shirt and a pair of shorts, sunglasses on top of your head, because why would you deprive yourself the gorgeous view of the sun beginning to set down, you followed your brother – not in blood but in every other sense – to the seats, allured by the view, the serenity and the cold sixpack in his hand.
You had already had a traditional bachelorette party with your girls – with the team, with your family. Natasha, Wanda, Pepper, Sharon and Maria. The night had been the perfect blend of what was considered typically feminine, dress up, fanciness and wine and gossip, and a fun night out with shots, dancing, karaoke and pool. That particular night sadly was interrupted shortly by an annoying photographer, but he soon understood it was not very clever to annoy three and a half Avengers or the CEO of Stark Industries for that matter.
Clint however… Clint deserved a special evening with you. With the rest of the team in various state of chilling out, scattered around the luxurious small houses and gorgeous beaches, you two were left the privacy such moment required.
Even if the special moment consisted of simple talking and drinking beer while watching the sun set, a symbolic end of one phase of your life – a phase that was undeniably tied to the famous and yet barely known archer, one of the seven defenders who rushed into the Battle of New York to save the Earth.
One of the seven had been your brother, having previously been controlled by the monster who brought an army from outer space; there was no questioning whether you would join the fight or not, no matter how you preferred the latter part of your field medic job title to the former.
Another of these brave people, as it turned out, was your future husband. A man you had met for the first time that day, but whom you didn’t hesitate to push back down when he got hit by a freaking alien weapon and stood up, wanting to shake it off as if it was nothing. Your medical training told you not to let him; and your stubbornness had been just a touch stronger than his that day.
Apparently, Steve found you always standing your ground to be one of your most endearing qualities.
What a fancy way to express it instead of simply calling you a stubborn pain in his ass.
“You’re lost in your head, Twinkie,” Clint hummed, playfully nudging your ribs with an elbow, bringing you back to the present.
Your nose automatically scrunched at the childhood nickname.
“You gotta stop calling me that, Bobo,” you retorted, a grin spreading on your face as it was his turn to grimace.
You knew it was nothing but an act and that he in fact loved that nickname, because it held so much sentiment, so many memories… as did his endearment for you.
Bobo had been your first word or so Clint always claimed. Obviously, you wouldn’t remember.
You wouldn’t remember your parents, having been only two days old when your mother left you with a damn circus which was in your hometown at the time. You couldn’t recall how you wouldn’t stop crying until you heard a seven-year-old Clint humming a lullaby for you, with silly replacements of lyrics that always made you laugh later on when you could understand them.
How he started calling you Twinkie, because he was a sugar addict and apparently, you were sweet and small and he liked you; so much that he soon appointed himself to be your brother, your bro, your Bobo.
Once you were older and learned that your involuntary nickname for him also meant ‘crazy’ in Spanish, you were sold to that Bobo endearment forever.
Including the night before your wedding.
“You keep zoning out on me, Kid. Getting cold feet?” Clint hummed, casually handing you a can of beer, opening it up for you.
You automatically reached out and took a sip, eyes fixed on the warm colour on the horizon. What a ridiculous question… but kind and caring, with a hidden promise of getting you out of here if you just asked. Your amazing, protective, crazy brother.
You couldn’t but smile widely, glancing at him from the corner of your eye.
“You offering to kidnap the bride, Clint? I’d like to see you try. You were always better at trapeze than at being an escape artist.”
Clint scoffed. “Please. These are amateurs. I bet I could pull it off.”  
That drew a laugh from you.
“Are you calling the Avengers amateurs? Better yet, are you calling your wife an amateur?” you teased him, watching his face lose colour when he realized that he did exactly that. You leaned over and patted his thigh. “Don’t worry, Bobo. I won’t tell Nat.”
Clint visibly relaxed, but a shadow of worry twisting his expression.
“Seriously though. Where’s your head at, Kid?”
You just shrugged, smile resting on your lips as you wondered if you ever felt so relaxed. It went along well with the reminiscing of the past and despite the fact that tomorrow was a big day and you should probably be nervous, you weren’t. Not in the slightest, more like the opposite. You were giddy even; it dawned to you that nothing in your life had ever felt so right.
No moment in your life offered you such serenity to your heart, your shoulders free of any weight, body light as air.
“Just taking a trip down the memory lane. Thinking about how lucky I was to be dropped at your circus of all circuses of the world,” you grinned at Clint, your tone remaining completely serious.
Because you were being serious – words couldn’t express how grateful for everything that led to this moment you were. How grateful you were to your brother for watching over you, making sure you would always see the light of a new day, guiding you when you found yourself in a dark.
Clint didn’t react beside his fingers twitching and you knew he was giving you the chance to say what you needed to say.
“About how you taught me pretty much everything I know. About how while I might not be the best person in the world, my brother, who is the best brother ever, made me into a decent person and I owe him everything I am. And how I should probably feel guilty for tying myself to another guy who just swept in and whisked away your little sister.”
Clint stared at you, gulping as his eyes gradually filled with tears. You found yourself in a very cheesy moment, bordering on absurd and it was almost too much to handle – but Clint took a deep breath, cleared his throat and swallowed his tears.
“Well, that bastard did steal my greatest life achievement with way too little effort,” he remarked, voice cracking slightly, the image of him causing your eyes to burn as well even if his words made you both tear up and burst out laughing.
“Dammit, Clint, stop making me laugh and cry at the same time…”
“You started it!” he pointed his index finger at you accusingly, taking a large sip of his beer to drown his sentiment. “But for the record, you should not feel guilty. It’s not like you’re leaving me.”
“I know, but-“
“And if you were, you’d be leaving me in good hands.”
“That’s true, Natasha does have a grip on you and might keep you outta trouble-“
“She’s the one who gets me into trouble half of the time!” Clint cried out in protest and you would have argued if it wasn’t the truth.
But before he had met her, Clint was able to make up his own trouble just fine – he was more than half of a reason why while doing a bit of trapeze yourself, you also grew interested in medical care. Because who else than the little sister should treat her big brother’s wounds when he got too crazy?
“In all seriousness, I’m proud of you, Twinkie,” he said sincerely, one corner of his lips raised in a lopsided smile. “You’re entirely entitled to have your own life and if there’s one guy in this whole damn world I’m willing to trust to have you… well, I guess it’s that big blond dumbass.”
“He can be a bit dumb of ass occasionally, can’t he?” you mused lovingly. “I guess it’s right what they say… we do pick our partners similar to our parents, maybe not only in looks. I didn’t really have a dad, I had you, so…”
Clint sighed, smile widening, before it slipped from his face as he caught up on the not-so-hidden insult.
“Hey!”
You couldn’t but laugh at his shocked expression, accidently spilling a splosh of beer on the sand.
“Just… maybe make sure that even married, you still find time to hang out with your big dumb of ass brother every once in a while?” Clint suggested, sounding surprisingly vulnerable.
Your whole demander softened, a little pang of guilt stinging in your heart as he took your words too seriously – and at his worry.
“Clint… I will always find time for my amazing brother.”
“Well, you’re marrying a pretty amazing guy too, so, you know, I understand the dilemma…”
You snorted when he seemed to genuinely fawn over your future husband, shaking your head before downing the rest of your drink.
“As amazing as Steve might be – and gosh, he is, don’t get me started – you still own a pretty big chunk of my heart.”
“Good. You are a Barton at heart,” Clint hummed, pretending that a few tears didn’t roll down his cheeks, leaning towards you as his expression once again grew serious.
Your chest tightened. Oh no. He was gonna say something to make you cry too – as if you already weren’t at verge of crying, emotions bubbling under the surface.
“Clint-“ you warned him silently, but he spoke up anyway and you gulped, bracing yourself.
“Just… whatever happens tomorrow, you must promise me one thing. That you will stay who you are. Not a perfect housewife, but a good woman.”
That was not what you were prepared for, as touching as the sentiment was.
You burst out laughing, head thrown back, hands clutching at your stomach as it actually hurt with the sudden clench. Tears did spring from your eyes, a perfect blend of touched and infinitely amused at your brother’s words.
“Har, har, that’s what I get from trying to speak from heart…” Clint muttered grumpily and you willed yourself to calm your hitching breaths as you looked at him, the pout of his mouth causing you to cackle again.
“Sorry, sorry. It’s just… I am moved, I really am. Thank you. But me? A perfect housewife? And you realize I’m marrying Steve Rogers, right? The epitome of a good man? He would probably threaten to sock me in a jaw if I tried to change into something I’m not just for his sake and actually sock me in my jaw if I turned into a bad woman.”
Clint’s eyebrows jumped, a smirk appearing on his face. “That’s a lot of punching.”  
“My thoughts exactly,” you agreed, reaching for another can, pausing when a thought occurred to you. “Just so we’re clear, I might turn into a bit of a housewife when we have kids, alright? And I want to be a good wife, a good partner to Steve, which is what I’m trying to do even now.”
“I mean, yeah, sure, wouldn’t expect anything less. But… just promise me you’ll stay you and that you’ll keep giving him a run for his money, keep him on his toes a bit,” Clint shrugged with a grin, drawing another chuckle from you.
You saw his point – and you fully intended to keep Steve on his toes. You had a good reason to believe that your future husband enjoyed when you did.
“Oh Clinton… I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
He nodded contentedly, picking up another beer and raising it for a toast, his can clinking with yours.
“Cheers to that!”
A comfortable silence settled between the two of you then, a quiet joy wrapped in one moment; the sun ending its quest, the warm breeze in your hair, the waves whispering of a journey you were about to take off to. And all that with a wordless comforting presence of your family, ready to offer you a shelter if a storm rocked your boat and the wind caused you to lose course.
As your mind wandered, you had to laugh at yourself – it was almost as if you were raised by pirates and not circus performers. Perhaps it was the little bit of free cheeky spirit these life journeys had in common what brought the metaphor to your mind. It was a bit like working with the Avengers too, always on a road, adrenaline in your veins even as you mostly stayed on the jet, ready to assist them… yet here you were pondering that maybe, you were yearning for settling down a bit more.
“Cap wouldn’t punch you anyway, right?” Clint remarked, breaking the silence and you blinked yourself back into reality, taking a moment to figure out what he was talking about.
Oh. Right. Steve punching you if you changed yourself significantly for his benefit.
You smiled softly, heart swelling in affection when the answer to that question appeared obvious.
“No, he wouldn’t.”
“Good. He’d try once and I’d put an arrow straight between his eyes,” Clint promised darkly, almost causing you to choke at the sudden violent note. He quickly fixed it with a ramble, lightening the atmosphere yet again. “Minus training of course. He’s allowed to try in order to improve your hand-to-hand. Not that he would ever land a hand on you anyway. Always so soft on you…” he grinned, seemingly alright with that attitude if not slightly calling the big strong supersoldier out.
Oh you could be cheeky too alright if that was what your brother wanted.
“That you know of.”
A confused huh was the only reaction you got – that and a puzzled look.
“He’s always soft on me,” you repeated Clint’s words, turning to him, lips slowly spreading in a wicked smirk. “That you know of.”
Clint’s brows furrowed for a short moment and then his features twisted in a disgusted grimace, face growing a tint crimson.
“Gross!” he complained, more blood rushing to his cheeks. “You know what, I changed my mind. We’re leaving. You’re not marrying him. I’m kidnapping the bride and never returning her, locking her somewhere far far away-“
You snorted at his indignation, your grin undoubtedly battling the one of the Cheshire cat.
“No will do, Bobo. I’m marrying Steve and you can’t stop me.”
This time, Clint didn’t even protest, eyes misted over, nose still scrunched at the mental image, lamenting as the night slowly settled over the paradise-like island.
“Oh god, please help, I can’t unsee it, can’t unhear it--- ew-”
Your laughter was carried away by the breeze as Clint seemed to be unable to look at you.
You swung your beer around, thinking that yes – nothing quite ever felt so right as being here in this moment. Relaxing with your brother, teasing him relentlessly and counting down hours to when you’d say ‘I do’ to the only man who in your eyes ever battled the mantle of the best man in the universe.
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In one unending moment You fall within my reach I'm close enough to whisper Hold on to me Hold on to me
You weren’t sure what time it was when you snuck into the beach house, one of few, which had been wisely chosen to be occupied by you and Steve only. You attempted to be quiet and liked to think you succeeded, in your even barely tipsy state, but your effort turned out to be in vain as you found Steve perched against headboard of your bed; reading a book, thin white t-shirt and sleep shorts on display as the soft sheet had been kicked away, scrunched up by his feet.
He was gorgeous – he was gorgeous and yours, a momentary picture perfect of peace, appearing to feel just as light as you did and somehow the dullness of the moment, just him relaxing in bed with a good read as you came home… it was more alluring than one would think.
Steve looked up from the book when you wavered in the doorway, soft lopsided smile spreading on his face.
God, that smile. It might be over two years since you saw it for the first time, but it could still make you weak in your knees.
And somehow, it was now even more charming now than the day you met, more tender than just before you kissed for the first time, sweeter than when he proposed.
“Hey sweetheart,” he greeted you, appreciative gaze roaming your figure and the little too much skin on display – something you regretted when the warm sunrays had bid you goodbye, raising goosebumps. And Steve, the attentive man he was, noticed, his smile earning a teasing edge. “You look a bit cold in there.”
You resisted the urge to stick your tongue out.
“And you look pretty cosy in there. Thought you’d be either asleep or with Bucky.”
Steve shrugged, not letting go of his unfinished chapter just yet, knowing you had a routine to go through before joining him.
“Maybe I missed you. Maybe Bucky is an old man and needs his sleep.”
You chuckled, not rising to the bait – you knew what would follow if you dared to say Steve was just as old. Not that you would complain about Steve trying to convince you about the opposite. You could never.
“Well, I bet he still made you a promise of breaking a bone of mine or two if I ever hurt you. He’ll find energy for that, centenarian or not,” you hummed nonchalantly as you bounced off the doorframe, heading to the bathroom and leaving Steve puzzled by your remark.
“How did you know?” he called out after you, endearingly confused.
“That’s what big brothers do, love!”
Short silence was your answer as you reached for your toothbrush and begun your nighty ritual.
Steve must have figure out what did it mean for him, considering you had a protective brother of your own, because a moment later, his half-amused “noted!” reached your ears.
You chuckled and shook your head, smile spread on your face which you didn’t think could be erased as long as you were in this paradise – free of worry, full of joy. And why wouldn’t you be? You were about to marry one of the smartest, kindest, sassiest and most beautiful men that ever walked the Earth. What was not to love?
You couldn’t but let your mind wander again; if you had only known the day you met, right from that moment, that you’d end up here…. well. It felt a little surreal, knowing that by this time tomorrow, you’d be Steve’s wife; then again, Steve’s life story was surreal enough on its own.
Who would have thought that the stubborn handsome man in the ridiculous suit and you, equally stubborn about you at least checking on the wound upon half-dragging him to a quiet corner in a middle of a battlefield, would grow so close?
It hadn’t been simple. Steve wasn’t the most open guy and while friendly enough, he wasn’t exactly offering his heart on his sleeve, not to strangers. But it hadn’t been too hard, once you were meeting on regular basis. Piece by piece he revealed his true colours and soon after he did… you started falling; hard and fast.
Not necessarily swooning, not on the outside at least; you were a professional, after all. The safety and the well-being of the team was your priority.
It was just too bad – or the best thing, you supposed – that Steve had the same goal as you with one significant difference; as far as he was concerned, the responsibility to look after his team sometimes excluded him.
Oh, was he wrong about that.
And boy, did you let him know you thought so. You still kept proving him wrong to this day and was planning on nurturing his own acknowledgement of his self-worth till your last breath…
“Get your ass in here, Steve!” you called out after him, slowly losing patience as you had tried asking politely the previous two times with no result but being dismissed.
The change of tone and language made his head snap to you from where he was talking to Sam, an offended scowl on his face.
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me, Captain. Don’t be a stubborn jerk and get your ass in here so I can clean your cuts.”
A few months ago, you wouldn’t have been able to talk to him like that; to the great legend, Captain America. At least you certainly wouldn’t have called him his first name and maybe, just maybe, you’d be a little less crass. But now? He might be Captain America still, a hero who deserved all the good things for the sacrifices he made for the world’s safety, but first and foremost, he was just Steve to you.
A colleague, a teammate, a friend. You might not be a part of the team per se, not the way Clint, Natasha or Steve were, but you still belonged. And you were all friends.
Friends irritated each other sometimes and frankly, Steve was often battling with Tony for the mantle of the most infuriating one.
Friends also needed to call each other out on their bullshit by any means necessary when the time was right and now the time was as good as any.
Usually, Steve slipped through your fingers, because he was a supersoldier and the others weren’t, so their injuries took precedence; today, it was only Natasha, Sam and Steve, and the captain was the only one whom you hadn’t checked yet. And you knew there were things to check, the trickle of blood from his eyebrow probably the least of your concerns.
“I wouldn’t argue with her, Steve. She can be pretty stubborn. Clint wouldn’t stop complaining about it,” Natasha supported you from the pilot seat and you fought yourself so you wouldn’t grin at her in victory – it would only irritated Steve further. “She’s almost as bull-headed as you are.”
At that, your smile would have slipped. But honestly, she wasn’t wrong.
“Don’t I know it,” Steve grunted, sparing Sam another glance and when the Falcon himself beckoned to you as well, wordlessly asking Steve to get himself checked up.
The captain sighed irately, but made his way back to the separate and well-lit space of your examination room.
He didn’t try to hide his annoyance – in fact, he squared his shoulders and his steps sounded a bit loud for anyone to believe it was a coincidence. Also, the scowl of exasperation never left his otherwise handsome face.
“This is completely unnecessary. A stupid waste of time,” he hissed as he walked past you and you took a deep calming breath, exchanging an eyeroll with Sam before you disappeared from sight.
“Captain. I respect you and your position, but you say one more time that my job here is unnecessary and stupid, you’ll be looking for a new medic,” you retorted as he stripped the upper part of his uniform angrily, revealing his white-tank-top-clad torso.
Well, at least the fabric used to be white – now a blood stain the size of both of your palms was seeping into the material at Steve’s right side, gushing from what definitely appeared to be a knife wound.
You were gonna murder him one of those days... unless he got killed himself first.
“Seriously?!”
“It’s just a graze-” he started to argue but you cut him off when you tore the fabric away. He winced as some of the dried blood had acted as a glue, having stuck the cloth into the wound, and now was violently ripped off.
“Tr to insinuate again that I’m incompetent at recognizing what’s just a graze, Steve. I dare you. This is a cut wide and deep enough for stitches! Haven’t you had the serum, you could have been bleeding out to death on this table!”
“But I do have it-“
“Or for fuck’s SAKE, stop being a baby and let me treat the bloody gash in your right mesogastric area! The serum accelerates your healing, but it doesn’t make you invincible OR immortal as far as I know--- Jesus fucking Christ-!”
He bristled, taking a deep breath to fight back, but he never got the chance, because you started working and the words died in his throat. Surprisingly, inspecting the damage, poking around a knife wound that might have already begin to seal itself thanks to Erskine’s formula but had not been just a graze hurt and coincidentally, it pulled the rug from under his feet.
To his credit, Steve barely even hissed at the pain.
“Just so you know, I’ll be using the disinfection that stings worse,” you noted, voice dripping venom, because you were genuinely done with Steve’s bullshit.
You lied through your teeth though. You wouldn’t. No matter how infuriating Steve was and how difficult he made your life – causing you to fall for his stupid martyr ass and pine after him among other things – you would never purposely hurt him.
And he must have sensed that, because your remark didn’t earn you a murderous glare or a retort – much to your surprise.
In fact, Steve fell entirely quiet, watching you work without protest, not even objecting when you applied enough local anaesthetic to knock out an elephant and sewed the tissue together so it healed easier. He let you inspect the rest of his torso and bandage his ribs, vigorously shaking his head when you asked him if he was injured anywhere below the waist.
He observed you as you kept an eye on his face for any minute sign of pain he’d be hiding, but all you could see were his irises, startlingly bright blue, pools of honesty and something you had trouble decoding. He seemed… humbled almost. It silenced the anger inside you, the flames of rage – and fear for his well-being, if you were being honest with yourself – turning into a barely smouldering pile of ash.
When you moved on to his head, gently pushing away the strands which obscured the gash on his eyebrow, his eyelids slid shut. You knew how unpleasant facial injuries were, especially around one’s eyes and so you took care to be extra careful as you cleaned the wound and the area surrounding it, most definitely not using the stingy disinfectant.
Not that Steve could get an infection as far as you knew. It was more force of a habit than anything else… and it made you feel better. He had this idiotic mask of an invincible hero he put up sometimes and it drove you insane, because you knew he was only human, a beautiful kind soul, but god, could he be an ass.
“Almost done,” you whispered soothingly when you noticed his jaw tightening as you had to apply a bit more pressure to get a tiny piece of gravel from the cut. You certainly didn’t want that to stay under the newly healing skin.
The moment you retreated with the bloody gauze, Steve’s eyes were back on you, wide and regretful.
“I’m sorry,” he offered quietly, a genuine apology that sounded almost absurd after you two were hissing at each other like damn hellcats. “I didn’t mean to--- I’m sorry for being rude and ungrateful. Thank you for taking care of my injuries.”
One glance into those deep irises and benign hesitant smile and you were done for. How could you stay mad at him? Well, you were still mad at him for the absolute disregard of his own health, but… well. You also understood he felt like he needed to stay strong for the team and put them first and how he actually was in pain.
Pretty much everyone was a pain in the ass when in pain.
You sighed as you searched for few band-aid strips to cover the cut.  
“It’s alright, Steve. I’m used to old men being grumpy and not meaning things they say when they are,” you offered lightly and he hung his head with a chuckle, clearly not taking the old man remark personally – and understanding you were referring to your brother.
His smile was wider when he looked up again. “You shouldn’t have to be used to it.”
You shrugged, carefully slipping two fingers under his chin to angle his face so you could stick the strips over the wound.
“Well, I deserve it sometimes. I don’t mean to… to be overbearing and make you feel like you’re incompetent or something,” you added hesitantly, worrying your teeth over your lower lip as the tone you’d been handling him with caught up with you. Perhaps you could have been nicer.
You smoothened the stripes of band-aid, gulping as you felt Steve’s gaze boring into your face while you continued.
“I know you’re not incompetent. You’re very capable, you’re the best. It’s just… I still--- worry- for all of you. For the full-time Earth’s mightiest heroes. Silly, huh?” you muttered self-depreciatingly and when your eyes met, you were startled by the intensity he watched you with as you laid your fears bare in front of him, leaving you vulnerable. You swiftly looked away and dropped your hands. “Here, almost as good as new.”
A lump grew in your throat as you stripped your gloves, tossing them into the bin. Did you reveal too much? Didn’t it sound silly indeed as you said it out loud? Yes, you were all friendly with each other, but you were supposed to be a professional, focused on your task, not getting distracted by-
-by Steve gently grasping your wrist, causing your heart to skip a startled beat. Definitely not getting weak in the knees when you shot him a surprised glance and he just… brought your hand to his face, lips briefly skimming over your knuckles.
Jesus Christ, Lord have mercy with me.
“Don’t you ever apologize for caring. Don’t stop caring. Silly is the last thing I’d call it.”
Your cheeks felt like set on fire, stomach fluttering as well as your heart. You could feel the ghost of Steve’s lips on your skin, sending your heartrate sky-high, causing your head to spin a bit, your body hot all over.
Did he really—did he just-? And did it mean that… did it mean anything at all?
He let go of your hand, thumb brushing over your knuckles, but held your gaze adamantly as he gave you a sad smile and rose to his feet, clearly ready to leave.
You, on the hand, stood there frozen, mind racing.
Why had he done that? Was he really just trying to express gratitude and say sorry for his previous behaviour? Because that was not the way it was supposed to be done, because such tenderness left you entirely bewildered. Was he trying to tell you he was somehow interested in something more than friendship? Was he just high from the anaesthetic, mind you, local one that was not supposed to mess with his brain? Was there any sign of a head injury you missed?
“Thank you, again,” he whispered softly, moving to sidestep you and your hand instinctively shot out, latching onto his forearm… gently.
You gulped, heart stuttering when he glanced at you, puzzled.
One part of you wanted to sink into the floor in embarrassment at your unwitting reaction. Another part of you observed him so closely that you would swear that there was another emotion in his eyes and it was neither apology nor gratitude. You wistfully hoped for longing, the same longing you felt when you were near him, sometimes distant and barely there, other times so acute it hurt.
With your stomach somersaulting in doubt, you willed yourself to raise your free hand slowly, purposely giving him a chance – Lord, please, don’t let him take it – to stop you before your palm settled on his cheek.
You were certain you experienced a small cardiac arrest when Steve not only didn’t avoid the touch, but actually leaned into it, gaze fixed on your face, eyes brighter and softer than you ever remembered seeing. Your gaze flickered to his mouth deliberately, throat turning dry. Too daring? He kissed you knuckles, surely you could reciprocate some affection?
Swallowing against your dry throat, you leaned in before you could change your mind and dropped the briefest peck to his lips, causing his eyelids to flutter shut.
Oh no. Oh no no no no, you totally crossed a line-
You went to retreat your hands from him, but the second you moved, his eyes were snapping open, hand covering yours on his face to keep it there, the other cradling your face and then there was a warm and soft sensation on your own lips as he seized them with his.
Your mind went completely blank save two single thoughts: Steve is kissing me. I really like that.
A small sound escaped you, a blend of surprise and contentment, breaking you from your trance and turning you into an actual participant of the pleasant and entirely unexpected activity.
You drew in a small breath, head spinning from the scent of Steve’s shampoo, disinfectant, sweat and something you couldn’t quite put your finger on and not caring.
He tasted faintly of blood, but otherwise was nothing but sweet as his lips caressed yours, gently tugging at your lower lip and then the upper, the lightest graze of teeth and tease of tongue, finger pressing into your jaw to pull you closer, thumb stroking your cheek.
You whimpered involuntarily when his lips parted from yours, soothing as they returned for a short peck, to drop a brief kiss to the corner of your mouth, to brush your cheek.
Your name was a breathy whisper between the two of you, barely audible as all you could hear was your heartbeat pulsing frantically in your ears, growing aware of your fingers clutching at Steve’s still unzipped armour and nearly sinking in his hair, his hot breath tickling your skin.
You didn’t dare to open your eyes – what if you dreamed it up? What if you looked at him and saw regret – it didn’t feel like he would be regretting it, but… still. Insecurity tugged at your mind as it slowly cleared from the literally breath-taking kiss.
Steve repeated your name with urgency that was unheard of, the single word sounding almost as a plea.
“Please say something.”
Oh.
You blinked your eyes open, surprised to be met with his searching gaze, a minute furrow of his brows. It seemed you weren’t the only one whose mind was being the worst of one’s enemies.
Perhaps your brain was being stupid. Perhaps you both wanted this. Perhaps you felt exactly the same.
As you forced yourself to move, fingers actually slipping into his hair to caress his nape, Steve inhaled shakily, shoulders slumping. The tinniest of smiles tugged at his mouth, tempting red and minutely swollen from the kiss; you had to resist the urge to just taste it again.
Instead, you licked your lips only, savouring the previous sensations, smiling unwittingly.
“That’s… uhm, that’s a really creative new way of driving me crazy.”
Steve’s eyebrows rose along with one corner of his mouth, relief written all over his face.
“Oh? There are other ways in which I’m driving you crazy? Because I couldn’t tell...”
You narrowed your eyes, but you didn’t think he bought you unconvincing act of being irritated with him at such remark.
“Don’t push it, Captain,” you warned him, but your treacherous mouth kept curling up in a smile, your body still buzzing with aftershocks of the kiss.
“Wouldn’t dream of it.”
“Uh-huh… s-sure,” you stuttered briefly as his thumb caressed your cheek, bright smiling eyes watching only inches from your face – and yet it felt like he was too far.
“You’re driving me crazy too, you know,” he noted in a breathy voice, causing you to gulp as his gaze flickered to your mouth, clearly implying how you do so… among other ways… like your stubbornness practically matching his.
“Oh really? I do? I couldn’t tell…”
He chuckled, his hand slipping to your nape, soft tickle of his fingers making you squirm.
“I’m gonna kiss you again now if that’s okay,” he whispered, not waiting for your permission and erasing the distance between your lips again.
Still, you whispered your approval to his mouth.
“So okay…”
Long moments later when Sam called out to warn you that you’d be landing soon, you said yes to the grumpy old man’s request to let him treat you dinner.
Oh if you only knew by then how far you’d come…
Lost in thought, goofy smile on your face, you exited the bathroom, ready to snuggle your future husband… and to fully take the opportunity to make love, last night before you officially became his and he became yours.
You had a brief second to register that the bed was empty, your heart skipping a started and disappointed beat. The second you stepped out though, you were literally swept off your feet.
A yelp erupted from your throat as you found yourself with no ground under your feet and high in the air, one of Steve’s arms under your knees, the other under your back. Your hands frantically gripped at the nearest firm point, Steve’s shoulder and arm as you finally realized what the hell happened and was met with a cheeky grin and sparkling blue of his eyes.
That traitor was waiting just by the door to ambush you! Why?
You slapped his very much bare shoulder playfully, hissing a curse, not unaware of the heat radiating of him and seeping into your skin.
“You jerk! You almost gave me a heart attack!” you complained, but he didn’t even have the decency to look apologetic.
“Sorry, sweetheart.”
“No, you’re not.”
Steve grinned wider, shrugging and pulling you closer to his torso, nuzzling your temple and dropping a placatory kiss there.
“Still looking a little cold.”
“No, I look like this because you scared me,” you emphasized, vainly trying to resist the seduction; a mixture of playfulness, sweetness and blatant display of strength as he still held you with ease. It was hard not to be temped. “And you look like you’re awfully warm, parading here without a shirt.”
“Well, I’d call us even since you’re parading around in these absolutely sinful shorts. Makes me hot. I can warm you up,” he mumbled to your skin, lips moving to your ear, causing you to shudder.
How was it so easy for him to make you all hot and bothered? You guessed that at least, as he said, it made you even... it wasn’t difficult to get him riled up either.
“You’re incorrigible.”
“Driving you crazy?” Steve offered, sounding awfully delighted at the idea and you only melted into him further at the reminiscence of your first kiss and what followed.
“Always,” you confirmed, deadly serious, but you couldn’t help the smile tugging at the corners of your lips or the mewl that escaped you when his teeth grazed the shell of your ear, warm breath tickling the sensitive skin of your neck.
“But you love it.”
“Uh-huh…”
“I can live with that with that then,” he said, stalking to the bed determinately. “Now let me drive you so crazy you can barely speak and the only sound you’re making is whimpering my name.”
He all but tossed you on the bed, a yelp of his name in fact erupting from your throat, followed by a fit of giggles that only died when his mouth seized yours, his lips only leaving when heading south to indeed drive you crazy.
And yes; you loved it.
And you loved him too.
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In one unending moment I fall within your reach My song a sweet surrender Hold on to me Hold on to me
Before the girls could steal you from him, Steve decided – with your enthusiastic agreement – that you should once again try how it felt to make some morning lovin’ outside marriage. With the ceremony planned for the late afternoon, you had plenty of time; and needless to say, it was bliss. Then again, you believed that marital sex with Steve would be just as delightfully pleasant, thank you very much.
Then, it was a whirlwind – make up, hair, dress, a tear or two spilled when you saw the result in the mirror.
More tears spilled when you glanced out of the window and saw the tastefully and modestly decorated arch, the path created by few scattered rose petals, the male part of your almost family sans Clint in the suits, effectively hiding Steve from you; and you from his just in case, because no one wanted any bad luck.
Your staring was interrupted when your brother went to pick you up to lead you down the aisle.
Upon entering the room and setting his gaze on you, he promptly looked away with a sniffle. It both warmed your heart and made you laugh as did his remark.
“Nope, not giving you to him. In fact, I’m never giving you to anyone. No one will ever be worthy, so I’m keeping you.”
“Hush, Clinton, you’ll still have me,” Natasha winked at him as he took a deep calming breath before carefully eyeing you again.
Clearly, it hadn’t done the job, because few tears still found their way down his cheeks.
“You’re a knock-out, sis,” he sputtered hastily, but no less honestly – clearly moved to tears.
And yet… you snorted at his choice of words and he rolled his eyes, quick to compliment your beauty instead.
You wouldn’t have it any other way though, even appreciating his first remark more for it came from the bottom of his heart rather than from what convention required.
Embracing you carefully in fear he would mess up the work of art his wife and other girls created, he held you in his arms for a moment, as you retuned the hug, clutching at his suit with a little too force. From the corner of your eye, you noticed the bridesmaids clearing the room.
“It’s not like I’m leaving you, Bobo,” you hummed with a smile, throwing his own words from last night at him.
And you weren’t leaving him; your heart swelled with love for your brother, your father figure, your long-life friend.
With sniffle, he let go of you and looked you up and down, proud smile spreading on his lips.
“It’s okay. If you are, I have the best spy in the world for a wife, we’ll drag your ass back home.”
You just slapped his chest playfully and took a deep breath – it was time. Clint grasped your hand firmly then, elbows interlocking, and went to step out just a moment after the bridesmaids left to join the groomsmen.
Well-aware everyone was going to stare and that Steve awaited you at the end of the aisle to marry you, your legs were shaking minutely as the magnitude of the event finally dawned to you.
“Getting second thoughts now?” Clint teased you, eliciting a chuckle from you and shake of your head.
What a question.
“No. Just… please don’t let me fall,” you muttered to him, entirely serious and grateful for your choice of footwear – simple flats hidden by the long flowing skirt of your dress. Better chance of not spraining your ankle on your wedding day.
“Never.”
Clint squeezed your hand under his warm palm and you took a deep breath, stepping into the doorway. Soft melody welcomed you, your very own wedding march Bruce was playing on a mouth organ – something you had previously had no idea he was capable of.  
Looking up from your skirt, you feasted your eyes on the company and the beautiful scenery for only a regretfully short moment, grateful for Sam’s Redwing programmed to record and take photos.
Your gaze instinctively searched the small crowd instead, until it fell under the arch where three men stood.
One of them was Sam himself, having obtained a licence so he could be your wedding registrar; he looked positively dashing. So did Bucky, who patted his best friend dressed in his old-fashioned green captain uniform on the shoulder, his smirk visible even from tens feet away as he stepped back.
Naturally, your gaze lingered on Steve, your feet acting of their own accord and following your brother’s lead.
Gosh, your future husband was the most handsome and absolutely hottest specimen to ever walk the Earth. Hair combed neatly to one side and in his old army uniform, he truly looked like the gentleman from another era he was and yet, he undeniably belonged exactly where he was. His eyes were bright and blue just like the sky, lips slightly parting before curling up into a brilliant smile which somehow still carried the tenderness he treated you with when he felt particularly affectionate.
He must have uttered something under his breath, because Bucky pressed his lips together as if he was holding back laugh. The absolutely best best man, ladies and gentleman.
Your found yourself smiling just as widely, a stray tear tickling the corner of your eye and you had to fight the sudden urge to ditch Clint in order to gather your skirts and run the rest of the way just to jump into Steve’s arms.
But in reality, there was no rush – here, on the damn island Tony rented, there was so much time that one short walk meant nothing in comparison.
“Alright, maybe I’ll give you to him,” Clint whispered, making you bite the inside of your cheek so you would cackle.
Leave it to your brother he would find Steve Rogers so fine he’d be willing to give you out just to have him become a part of your family.
One corner of Steve’s lips twitched in amusement – supersoldier hearing didn’t miss the remark then. Good. Then Bucky heard it too and you had a witness just in case Clint would change his mind. Again.
Finally, with your heart almost in your throat, you reached the end of the aisle, Clint gently putting your hand into Steve’s… without letting go.
“You be nice to her, Cap. And I mean really nice, you hear? Or else-“
“Hush,” you hissed good-naturedly in your brother’s direction, winking at him before you returned your gaze to Steve. “Hey there, handsome.”
Steve chuckled under his breath when Clint stepped back. He returned the greeting with soft ‘hey there, beautiful’ and then proceeded to lift your joined hands, brushing your knuckles with his lips – just like the day you shared your first kiss.
Well now you truly found yourself on the verge of crying. And Lord, you wanted to kiss him so much-
Sam cleared his throat loudly, casting you both a meaningful look as if he could read your mind and wanted to remind you that there were a few things to go through before that could happen.
Ugh. Formalities. Just let me kiss him…
Steve licked his lips – the audacity! – and turned, lightly tugging at your hand so you both faced your friend who held a little leather book open, beckoning towards the guests: Bucky and Natasha, the best man and the best woman, Clint, Bruce, Tony, Vision, Wanda, Sharon, Pepper. Just your closest friends and family.
Sam cleared his throat again.
“Alright. We all know why we gathered here today. To get these two amazing people married, so they could officially become a special team within our team.”
You grinned, peripherally noticing Steve eyeing you as well. Team indeed.
“This is the part where I would ask all of you, bride and groom included, to speak up now if you’re aware of anything standing in the way of this wedlock or to remain silent forever. But frankly, if you have something to say, right now is the perfect time to keep it to yourself. Just let these lovebirds get married…”
Muffled laughter and giggles erupted from your group. Honestly, you wouldn’t say it better. You noticed Clint shifting and Natasha forcefully holding his hand down; you bit down on your lip so you wouldn’t laugh and sent her a grateful smile instead. The best maid of honour ever.
“Good, that’s what I wanted to hear, folks. We have the rings, correct? Great. Just so you know, these two saps asked me to read one vow which they are making to each other, because they didn’t trust themselves to say theirs individually without bursting into tears. So now it’s left to me to cry instead. Thanks for that.”
Your cheeks were honestly starting to hurt from smiling so wide, but tears prickled in your eyes acutely just at the thought of the vow you agreed on. You spent countless hours thinking about what you wanted to say and realized that your vow would be too long and that you would in fact start crying and that you could never name all the things you loved Steve for. It had been a relief to find out that Steve shared the sentiment and the deal was made.
Natasha and Bucky dutifully laid the rings on the pillow Wanda’s powers held levitating by your and Steve’s side – not without Bucky finding a split second to compliment your appearance and earning a brief smirk from Steve.
“I know,” Steve uttered and you wondered if there was a dare going around as to who would make you burst out laughing first.
This was your wedding dammit. You could be at least a bit a lady and remain collected.
Hardly.
“With this ring,” Sam started, breathing in and out and you knew you already lost, first tear rolling down your cheek as you gazed into Steve’s inviting eyes, “I give myself to you without giving up myself. With this ring, I surrender to you for I have faith you understand the value of wielding such power and for I deem you worthy of it. With this ring, I promise to love you, to respect you and to support you to be your best self as I trust you to do the same for me, for us.”
You blinked away the waterfalls, reaching almost blindly for Steve’s ring and with fingers trembling – with giddiness, not nerves – you somehow succeeded at slipping it on his left ring finger.
“I do,” you whispered, your voice cracking even in such simple sentence and the watery smile Steve graced you with made your ribcage feel too small for your swelling heart.
Fingers equally clumsy, he slipped a ring on you as well, shoulders squaring as if in pride.
“I do,” he said firmly, the damp path down his left cheek only adding severity to his vow.
“You may-- uhm, okay, you may kiss the bride, your wife--- I mean, Mrs. Rogers. You may kiss the groom, your husband…” Sam mumbled under his breath until he didn’t, because Steve pulled you in for a kiss the same moment Sam said the first ‘may’ and incidentally, the same moment you practically threw yourself at Steve.
Laughter and whistles erupted from the group of your friends as Steve bend you back dramatically, the determined press of his lips to yours not at all disrupted by the change of angle, claiming your mouth in ways that made you shudder and stirred flames in your belly.
Years and years later, you’d recall that kiss and realized an amazing thing; how it felt just like your first kiss, your last one, and every single one in between.
With you still practically horizontal, Steve’s crinkling eyes met yours, delighted smile on his kiss-swollen lips.
“I love you, Mrs. Rogers,” he hummed, adding a cheeky grin. “You’re stuck with me now.”
“The horror,” you muttered back teasingly, pulling at his nape, demanding another kiss, your own declaration whispered to his mouth. “I love you too, Mr. Rogers.”
And you did. Gosh, you did.
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S.R. masterlist
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(divider by firefly-graphics)
Well. This turned out SO DIFFERENTLY than I anticipated and SO MUCH LONGER. If you feel like leaving feedback, I’ll be grateful. If not, well. *shurgs*
Excuse me while I go and continue dreaming of ONE fictional man. Ugh. Anyway.
Thank you for reading!
And once again, thanks to WIYBUPT for hosting and for just being awesome in general :)
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anika-ann · a month ago
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Hello, my dears. How is the week going so far? 
Fancy a little sweet treat?
Have a tiny peek at my Barton!reader fic for @what-is-your-backupplan-today​  CA:TFA 10th anniversary challenge 😊
Warnings: blood, sugary sweet fluff
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“I’m sorry,” he offered quietly, a genuine apology that sounded almost absurd after you two were hissing at each other like damn hellcats. “I didn’t mean to--- I’m sorry for being rude and ungrateful. Thank you for treating my injuries.”
One glance into those deep irises and benign hesitant smile and you were done for. How could you stay mad at him? Well, you were still mad at him for the absolute disregard of his own health, but… well. You also understood he felt like he needed to stay strong for the team and how he actually was in pain.
Pretty much everyone was a pain in the ass when in pain.
You sighed as you searched for few band-aid strips to cover the cut.  
“It’s alright, Steve. I’m used to old men being grumpy and not meaning things they say when they are,” you offered lightly and he hung his head with a chuckle, clearly not taking the old man remark personally – and understanding you were referring to your brother.
His smile was wider when he looked up again. “You shouldn’t have to be used to it.”
You shrugged, carefully slipping two fingers under his chin to angle his face so you could stick the strips over the wound.
“Well, I deserve it sometimes. I don’t mean to… to be overbearing and make you feel like you’re incompetent or something,” you added hesitantly, worrying your teeth over your lower lip as the tone you’d been handling him with caught up with you. Perhaps you could have been nicer.
You smoothened the stripes of band-aid, gulping as you felt Steve’s gaze boring into your face while you continued.
“I know you’re not incompetent. You’re very capable, you’re the best. It’s just… I still--- worry- for all of you. For the full-time Earth’s mightiest heroes. Silly, huh?” you muttered self-depreciatingly and when your eyes met, you were startled by the intensity he watched you with as you laid your fears bare in front of him, leaving you vulnerable. You swiftly looked away and dropped your hands. “Here, almost as good as new.”
A lump grew in your throat as you stripped your gloves, tossing them into the bin. Have you revealed too much? Didn’t it sound silly indeed as you said it out loud? Yes, you were all friendly with each other, but you were supposed to be a professional, focused on your task, not getting distracted by-
-by Steve gently grasping your wrist, causing your heart to skip a startled beat. Definitely not getting weak in the knees when you shot him a surprised glance and he just… brought your hand to his lips, lips briefly skimming over your knuckles.
Jesus Christ, Lord have mercy with me.
“Don’t you ever apologize for caring. Don’t stop caring. Silly is the last thing I’d call it.”
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(GIF originally posted by bluebrooklynkid) (divider by firefly-graphics)
Don’t forget to check out the awesome challenge 😉
Tags: @annathesillyfriend @chase-your-dreams-away @katrynec @weebid @lady-elena-adeline @thehumanistsdiary @orions-nebula @scentedsongrebel @mysterioh @patzammit @kayteewritessteve @chris-evans-indian-fanfic @rebloggingeverything @captainson-of-coul @the-soot-sprite​ @donutloverxo @gloryekaterina @callmeaspen @aubreeskailynn
Anyone wants in or out, let me know :-*
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