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neonovember · 2 years

Note

Loved loved loved the steve headcanon. If you’re in the mood, I would an expansion on the “steve is the type of man to never let you go to bed angry, even if you’ve both had a fight and he end up on the coach” because I absolutely agreed and I especially enjoyed reading that! Thank you for sharing this husband!Steve HC.

oh yes most definitely! His mind wouldn't rest until he knows you're at peace. Ask and you shall receive (i must say I did get quite carried away). I wrote this at 1 am so be aware of spelling :)

The Steve headcanon

My soul cannot sleep without you

The rumble of the car engine comes to a stop as Steve pulls into the garage of your shared home, the living room light is still on and if you weren't already irritated, you'd mentally smack yourself for being so forgetful. Bills weren't cheap, even on an avenger's salary.

Collecting the ends of your dress you shoulder your way through the car door, slamming it with an oomf for good measure. Steve, of course, shuts his door gently, and it leaves you even more annoyed with him.

Why is he not angry?

You don't dare look behind you as Steve begins to jog towards you, you fear the confusion that has been plastered on his face for the last 20 minutes would make you explode.

You're about to open the door until you remember, he has the keys, Steve is already one step ahead of you, fingers brushing past your elbow as he twists the golden metal into the door nob. You can feel his stare burning into the side of your face but you will yourself not to look his way, to see that look on his face that would have you conceding.

The smell of peppercorn and maple engulfs your senses as you enter your hallway, the soft air of familiarity fails to calm your tense shoulders however, as you pass the framed pictures of you and Steve over the years without so much as a glance.

Reaching your kitchen you notice the bouquet of orchids Steve had bought you earlier today left on the counter, in the rush to get to the compound's charity ball on time you had forgotten to find them a vase.

What flowers would she like?

You search through the kitchen cabinets before you grasp the clear glass, shufflingly through appliances and setting it on the granite counter. You unwrap the orchids, cutting the stems down to fit into the glass vase and filling them generously with water. Steve looks at you incredulously, arms folded as his eyes follow your movements.

"Are you going to say something?" Steve says, his melodic voice travelling through the house, bouncing off the glass vase yet failing to penetrate you.

You begin to clean the stems and spilt water from the counter, ignoring Steve’s attempt at conversation. Did he seriously not realise the brunette practically hanging onto his every word?

Steves's hand grasp your own, stopping you from wiping down the rest of the kitchen, he lifts your chin but your eyes remain downcast, fiddling with the string of the washcloth.

"Can you at least look at me?" Steve says, scanning your face that remained emotionless. His fingers glide across your arms to rest on your cheeks, and the feeling of his hands on you, after she'd touched them has you ripping them off of you. Scoffing, you throw the washcloth into the sink, before turning towards Steve.

"I don't understand, why are you upset? Did I do something?" Steve furrows his brows, his hands gripping his pants as if he's stopping himself from reaching for you.

You scoff at that, "You can't be serious Steve, you are one of the smartest people I know and you can't notice something happening right in front of you?"

He shakes his head, eyes squeezing as he opens them, you notice him scanning over the events prior, but it comes up empty and it has Steve looking more confused than before.

“What's her name, huh Steve? At least tell me her name” You whisper, arms folded as the shimmers of the dress begin to irritate you.

“What? Who?” Steve replies, stepping closer to you

“Who? The brunette who was hanging off of you the entire night Steven” You groan, you hated facing your insecurities, much less voicing them.

There is a momentary pause in Steve as his mind backtracks to the evening, sifting through the hundreds of faces he’d seen tonight, he finally realises who you're talking about.

Tony’s accountant

“Marianna?” Steve scoffs

“Yes, Marianna” You spit her name like poison, but you can’t seem to get her face out of your mind, she’s taken homage next to the laundry you hadn't gotten the time to do. The way her pantsuit fitted her elegantly, sophisticated and modern, she was the woman of the future. And you were just, well, you.

She could pull off a red lip, something that never quite looked good on you, and the very way she spoke told you she said very few words that didn't ilicitate constant adoration. She didn't need to fill the space with empty jargon, every word had meaning.

The constant comparison had followed you the entire evening, and the past insecurities that you had thought you'd overcome seemed to weigh you down like an anchor, pulling you into the deprecation you knew all too well.

It was fine, you’d get over it until she began to talk to Steve, your husband. you didn't miss the look on her face as they conversed, utter, pure amazement. You knew it because you wore it every day, Steve had a way with people, it's what attracted you to him in the first place.

You felt out of place as they spoke about diplomacy and business, and at that moment you had wished you actually listened when Tony pulled you into one of the many long rants you'd gotten used to.

She wasn't even mean to you as if the playground tactics were beneath her, but it didn't take her calling you a bitch to know the animosity that radiated from her every time Steve had tried to pull you into their conversation. You knew where you weren't wanted and you weren't about to make a fool of yourself. So you left them to it as you sat next to Natasha, who offered you a much-needed drink.

She had noticed your annoyance at Marianna the second she came over, as she always did, and for a second, you wish Steve would too. He was too pure too good, to take notice of the way Marianna got closer and closer to him or the way she bit her lip and laughed a little too hard at one of his lame jokes. The poor man thought she was being friendly, he was oblivious to her true motives.

Natasha held her grin behind an empty champagne glass, snickering when Marianna threw her head back for good measure. You had vented to her there, and she reminded you of the man Steve was. How he was absolutely enamoured by you and you only, how you had him wrapped around your finger so tight he wouldn't even think about looking at another woman that way. It was all things you knew deep down, but that didn't stop your brain from imagining the worst, that he was deep in an affair with his co-worker, and you were the dumb clueless wife who waited for him at home.

You wouldn't let that happen again, not after all those years of betrayal from an ex, you wouldn't let yourself be made a fool. Pride had a way of getting in between reality, and you let it stew you in anger until you were mad at Steve instead of her.

Steve shakes his head, moving closer to you,

“She's just Tony’s accountant, we chatted for a few, that's all doll” Steve replied, carding a hand through his blonde locks. Reasoning, however, doesn't seem to be on your mind tonight as you remember all the lies you've been told starting with she.

She’s just a friend, she’s just an assistant, she’s just...

“Well, she seemed to have taken your attention for the whole night, while I was left drinking champagne of all fucking things with Natasha. She was meant to go find her date for that night, but instead, she was with me” You replied looking towards him in anger.

“Well, I tried to include you in the conversation, but every time I asked for your opinion your mind seemed as if it was a thousand miles away!” Steve replied swiftly hands gesturing around.

“Yeah, because she was laughing every single goddamn time I opened my mouth, god Steve, can't you see what she’s doing?” You replied even faster, swallowing down the brick that began to form in your throat.

“What, what is she doing, I thought I was having a conversation with a colleague, but you seem to know better” Steve quipped, his jaw tensing and his shoulders seized.

“She wants you, and you’re either too blind to see it or already fucking know it” You replied, muttering under your breath.

Steve scoffs, shaking his head, eyes scanning your face as he remains silent.

“Is your silence meant to mean I was right?” You yell, tears beginning to gather on your waterline and you have to pinch yourself to get force them to remain there.

Steve’s eyes never leave your face, the cerulean orbs darting left and right, and up and down as if trying to understand your benevolence. His arm twitches as if he wants to gather you into his embrace and forget this entire evening.

“How can you say that” Steve replies, after a short while, “I was courteous, polite for god's sake, you know I would never do that to you” Steve moves until his hands grasp your own. They’re warm to the touch like he always is, and they begin to soothe the coldness that has begun to take over your body.

It doesn't help though, instead, it reminds you of the times you've been told that your insecurities were imaginary, that the unfaithfulness in your relationship wasn't real. That you, instead were harbouring a secret, the anger you felt then turned to guilt at your own self for even accusing him of cheating. If you were told enough times that your reality wasn't yours, you’d start to believe it.

“Yeah well, the only person I can ever trust is myself” You whisper, spitting the words out and unlatching yourself from Steve's grasp. Steve looks down at you in shock, betrayal and hurt falling over his features, whilst yours turn to stone.

He closes his eyes before opening them again, nodding as if he accepted your anger.

“Fine, I’m taking the couch,” Steve scoffs, ripping off his tie and placing it on the counter, before walking into the living room the loud stomp of his shoes vibrating through the quiet house.

You turn to the discarded tie, grasping it into your palm, the texture of the material felt velvet against your fingers. It was a plain tie, one you'd find anywhere, but it was the first tie you'd ever gotten him. You'd gifted him many over the years, all of them more expensive and chic than this one but he'd told you you'd have to pry it out of his cold dead hands before he would give it up.

It was his lucky tie because you were his lucky girl.

Where you still now?

The satin pillow dampened with your tears, you hadn't waited to even close the door before you were muffling a sob that broke out of your throat. Since then, the tears never ceased, you had to shove your face into the covers to make sure Steve wouldn't hear you.

Sleep was fruitless, you had tried everything, but you lay there, like clothes on a washing line, wrung out and left to dry. Your mind wouldn't let the image leave, her fingers grabbing his bicep as she laughed, the way he grinned as his humour got praised.

Was that it, had she given him more attention? More than you?

A billion reasons clamoured your mind as you pushed your fingertips to your eyelids, wishing that you hadn't even gone to the charity ball at all, save the humiliation just for your mind only.

Deep down you knew, you knew that this was all the insecurities of your past coming forth from their hiding places. Steve was the best person in your entire life, he would never, his stupidly good heart wouldn't allow it. But that was just it, he was too kind and nice and good that people like Marianna were able to sink their claws and have their way with him however they wanted.

He thought they were being friendly, but they knew they weren't.

Hours seem to pass before you find the room illuminated with the light of your phone in your palm, your chest feels tight and uncomfortable and you don't know how much more of this you could take.

Tapping onto the folder named “him”, you are met with hundreds of photos of you and Steve throughout the years, starting from the very few dates you had before he claimed you as his, till the wedding night when you both had stayed up to take out the millions of pins in your intricate hair.

In all of them, every single one, Steve displays the same adored, content look of utter satisfaction and love, his eyes sparkled with it, like the sun glittering against the gentle waves and folds of the sea. An endless pool of longing that seemed to have depth only for you, to crash and fight and turn inside and out for you.

Your relationship was never easy, but Steve has always, always been the anchor that brought you back, he never gave up, even when you pushed him away and left him in the dark. Even when the fear of loss and hurt caused you to scream things you didn't mean and do things you shouldn’t have.

You flick across to a photo of Steve looking towards you, a soft grin lighting up his face as you held Clint’s newborn, you were cuddled up on a seat, your knees tucked into you as you were sucked into the guilty pleasure of red fat cheeks and baby fever.

Sam had captured it without Steve looking, sending it to you a couple of days ago with the words ‘Someone wants to be a daddy’. You’d laughed it off but each day you'd come back to that picture. Back to the moment when Steve looked like he had never loved something harder than you, as if it was his first time ever really feeling it.

He loves you, you know? I knew it the day he met you, he has this look on his face, where his eyes get all glazed over and his fingers are reaching for you. It’s like he can’t breathe until he can hold you, like his body will break in two and his heart will stop.

Natasha had told you that one night on the terrace unprovoked, with a beer in her hand and the moonlight falling over the both of you. She had been there from the start, had found you when you were still a shell of a person, back then you didn't even know what love was. You fear if it wasn't for her you and Steve wouldn't have ever met.

“Steve would never do that”

The sounds of her voice those hours ago ring in your head. It was true, your entire time with Steve told you but what thing, he was not your ex. He was kind, and soft and held you like you were glass and he'd crush you. And then suddenly, as if a switch had been turned in your mind, the light of a dark place turning on you realise how utter fucking foolish you had been.

Steve’s faith in you never faltered, even when it should have he never felt a reason to distrust you, it was foreign, it felt strange to have someone utterly and fully hand their trust and soul to you. And what had you given him in return? Accusations and anger.

Did he think now, that you did not trust him? That he had failed to show you how you should be loved? How he would never hurt you?

Those men from your past would never amount to Steve, and suddenly you felt you would die right in this room if you didn’t move. If you tell Steve he was enough and that you believed him and that the vows he uttered held true. Every hair on your body itched with this need until the covers were thrown across from your body and your phone was discarded on the bed.

You swung open the door, the cold hair hitting your face and you stumbled through the dark, you run down the hardwood stairs, the haunting reality of your actions following you, you had been so so foolish.

Steve is there, his frantic motions walking towards the bedroom freeze as he notices you. His shirt is crumpled and unbuttoned, and his golden hair is ruffled, the strands falling over his face as if he's run his fingers through it too many times.

A look of desperation and longing paint his features as he watched you, hands shaking at his sides as he sinks his canines into his reddend lip. You wanted nothing but to hold him now, and the thought bring you to tears, blurring your vision until you miss a step, your heart dropping into your stomach as you brace yourself, waiting to meet the cold hard ground of the kitchen floor.

It never comes, instead, heated, carded muscle wraps around you, and you the smell of Steve, of earth and pine cones has you crying into his shoulder.

He came to you, even when you had screamed at him to leave,

He came to you.

Fresh tears slide down your cheek and you grip Steve, whose fingers softly rub your back, hands tightening around your waist.

“M’ sorry, so sorry Steve, please” You hiccup, covering your face into his shoulder.

“Ssh, my sweet girl, I know” Steve whispers, never seizing his gentle caress. His hands lift your face from his neck, thumb gathering the tears at your waterline. “I know, it’s okay, it’s okay, just breathe for me, hm?

“In and out, can you do that for me?” Steve breathes out, eyes straining as he watches your shallow breaths ease into semi-normal respiration.

Without a word, Steve collects you in his arms and walks through the house until he enters the bedroom, shutting the door with his foot, eyes never leaving your face as he gently places you onto the now cold bedsheets.

You shudder, reaching for him as he slides in, arms wrap around your sides as he continues his light motions on your back, his fingers come to move your hair behind your ear, pressing a soft kiss to your neck.

You turn around swiftly, hands reaching to cup his face before you’re met with his reddened eyes, it's your turn now to brush away the tears before pressing your lips to his,

‘I should never have, Stevie, you, I-, you would never” You whisper against him his chest, the soft rise and fall lulling you into a state of haze and exhaustion. He presses his forehead to yours

“I just want to hold you now, god, I don't know what I will do if I don’t hold you” Steve replies muttering the words painfully. You wrap your arms around him, pressing yourself into his stomach as his biceps surround you. The sound of Steve's heartbeat, the rhythmic badum badum badum, engulfs you with a sense of tranquillity you hadn’t realised you couldn’t live without.

Steve, your sweet boy, was the one thing you couldn’t live without, without Steve, next to you, holding you between his arms, you don't think you would ever quite find sleep. Not anymore, not after him.

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justalonelyslytherin · 2 years

Text

Sly's Rec List

Time to finally set this up! I've been reading and reading the last couple of days (even though my drafts don't get less) and always think to myself: 'Oh that writer is so good and I need to keep up with their work/blog' and then I still lose sight of them...

Also, interactions have never been less and I know a lot of us writers are struggling with the little interaction. It feels like no one ever sees the things we post. So this will be my space to just list blogs to who I want to follow up or just give a shoutout!

Blog's I love & recommend

@rogersideup - my fav Steve blog. Every story is amazing. They blow my mind every single time.

@spectre-posts + @wiypt-writes - these two write some of the best series there are for pretty much every ce character. Long, incredibly detailed, heart-warming, gut-wrenching, tear-and-squeal-inducing stories written with love and some of the most dedication I have seen. The dialogue is bomb!

@sweater-daddiesdumbdork - has written some of my absolute favorite Curtis Everett stuff. She knows him and there is no one that can portray Curtis better

@navybrat817 - tattoo boys, biker boys, any type of boys. So many fantastic bucky fics. Love Stud, Smartie & Alpine

@imaginedreamwrite - can write literally anything and make it absolutely fucking incredible. Brimming with ideas on end, one better than the other. Queen of daily prompts and drabbles!

@anika-ann - queen of angst and fluff

@hangmans-wingman - American Made and Little Wonder are to die for. Stories that hook you from second 1 and will keep you at the edge of your seat!

(more to follow)

Fics I love & can only, highly recommend

Marvel

Waiting For This - @musingsinmoonlight - oneshot, Steve Rogers, 18+, a/b/o

A sticky situation - @rogersideup - oneshot, Steve Rogers, bubblegum & hair = forced haircut, fluff

Sweet Indulgences - @sweetascanbee - oneshot, Steve Rogers, wedding dress + slight fake-dating + first kiss, fluff!

My Soul Can Not Sleep Without You - @neonovember - oneshot, Steve Rogers, Steve is the type of man to never let you get to bed angry

Six Years - @the-bau-quinjet - oneshot, Steve Rogers, amnesia trope, Y/N forgets her life with Steve, the best take on the amnesia trope I have read!

Press Four For Poppet - @frostironfudge - oneshot, Steve Rogers, 18+, steve dials a sex-hotline

Emergency contact - @rogersideup - oneshot, Steve Rogers, Steve gets sick, so frickin' cute!

Walking the wire - @pedrito-friskito - oneshot, Nomad!Steve Rogers, supersoldier/red-room!reader, 18+, so fucking good omg, the air of mystery, the exposition, the chemistry between them, the spice! READ IT, IT'S SO GOOD

Sonder - @rogersideup - oneshot, Steve Rogers, Steve and the nice shield doctor, takes him a while to ask her out. SO GOOD. ABSOLUTE MASTERPIECE.

Coffee and Cinnamon | Maple Latte | Apples and Cherries - @sarahwroteathing - oneshot, Steve Rogers, bookshop/bakery au, friendly banter, Steve being a punky nemesis, just tooth-rotting fluff and amazing dialogue; best bookshop/bakery/coffeeshop au I have ever read!

Get This Girl Some Ice Cream! - @witchywithwhiskey - oneshot, Steve Rogers, hurt/comfort, Reader has a panic attack & Steve soothers her, incredibly sweet and comforting

The Things We Do For Love - @ronearoundblindly - Steve Rogers, wife!reader, Reader has a smelly & unpleasant accident in the lab, Steve 'The Drama Queen' Rogers (lovely dubbed 'Drug Dog') has to deal with it - utterly hilarious, some of the best sassy dialogue I've ever read, Steve being a dramatic cutie

Period Cramps - @espinosaurusrexex - oneshot, period cramps suck but Steve is there to make it better, comfort read

Right Where You Belong - @witchywithwhiskey - oneshot, college!au, baseball played!steve & studybuddy!reader, all the sweet and innocent college infatuation and date, so sweet and comforting to read

Perfect Moments - @eviesaurusrex - oneshot, Stucky x Reader, the cutest fic ever! Oh the comfort, oh the fluff. This sent me straight to cloud nine. This is the air I need to breathe, it's that cute and fluffy and perfection!

Other CE characters

After school comfort - @junipermuses - oneshot, Ari Levinson, comfort & fluff

The Five Step Plan - @theycallmebecca - oneshot, Frank Adler, au where Mary's mother dies later, very sweet and real feeling story

Where The Heart Is - @babyjakes - blurb, Jake Jensen, the cutest shit ever, sooo fluffy, Jake visits reader in hospital and is a adorable bean

Spa Date - @ghotifishreads - drabble/blurb, Ari Levinson, face masks, Ari being seductive and impatient, funny and cute

Top Gun Maverick

Just In Case - @katiesharms - oneshot, Hannix, angst w/ happy ending

Who did this to you? - @justfandomwritings - oneshot, Hangman, so good, see warnings

Do not disturb - @callsign-valley - oneshot, Hangman, 18+

Slow Burn - @ereardon - series, completed, Hangman, 18+ - amazing story! So well written, ending up pregnant with Hangman's baby after a ons, happy ending

Haunted by the Ghost of You - TheRebelHunter on ao3 - series, TG86, Hop 31 but instead of one jet going down, both jets go down, Goose survives but all four (Mav, Goose, Ice & Slider) get injured - I helped create the plot, as this started out as a au in the tgm discord. Angsty but amazing!

Where I'm From - @sometimes-i-write-good - oneshot, Hangman, first date, Jake is a sweetheart & gentleman, clearly knows what treating a girl is supposed to be like, loved the ending

Others

An Old Flame II - @b00kdiary - series, Aemond Targaryen, 18+, amazing dialogue!

#sly recommends #sly's recs #marvel mcu #top gun maverick #peaky blinders

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neonovember · 11 months

Note

Carmen definitely has black cat energy, maybe more akin to something like a stray cat (saying that lovingly) but definitely is more cat boyfriend than dog boyfriend. Have to leave him alone and gain his trust and then he’ll be curious about you, and then won’t leave you alone 🥰😭

this is completely true, carmen is kinda stand-offish and reserved at first and he is horrible at replying and calling you back because let’s face it he doesn’t really know how to communicate properly. but even after all that, all of that distance and reservations you force him to come out.

you drag him to a nice hole in the wall lunch spot, you take him for drinks, and then something just clicks in Carmen. Once he realises you aren’t going to leave him stranded he completely opens himself to you, and don’t try and tell me he wouldn’t be the most clingy mf after 😭 this man is literally a toddler yall!

So why not a little drabble down below? A sneak peak if you will. it’s likes 200 worth of word vomit and there’s allusion to smut to enjoy ;)

The busy streets of the farmers market spilled into the morning traffic, as Carmen rushes between crowds with two cups of coffee grasped against his chest.

They burned, really fucking bad, probably searing a third degree burn right under his pelvis but god did he not care, his legs ran with the wind behind them as he tried making it back to your shared apartment as quick as possible.

He had only left the warm bed where you lay 10 minutes ago, only after you had thought about ‘how good a coffee would be snuggled up here’ and Carmen had shouldered on a flimsy fleece jacket and his house slippers before racing out of the house to fulfill your request.

He didn’t regret it now, but he could practically feel his skin itch with a desire to feel you against him again. There had been a celebratory dinner of sorts for the beef after it got recognised as Chicago’s up and coming restaurant of the decade. Carmen couldn’t wait till you both made it to your apartment and just took your right there in the backseat of his car that now stood stationary in the parking lot.

Carmen can still taste you on his tongue and now he’s grateful he took a much needed day off to spend it with you.

Opening the apartment door, the smell of melted butter and grease washes over Carmen’s senses. Flipping of his slippers, Carmen past the kitchen, where used dishes lay on the stove top and the ingredients for pancakes lay open.

“Baby? I got our coffee?” Carmen yells out, and when there is no answer a sweat begins to break on Carmen’s forehead.

“H-honey? You there!?” Carmen yells louder, looking through the living room before entering the bedroom with haste.

“I’m right here Carmy, it’s alright” The sweet saccharine melody of your voice pulls Carmen from whatever fear inducing nightmare he fell into.

You’re here, back where your supposed to be. Wrapped around the covers that smelled of the both of you.

“Made us pancakes” You smile, the sun streaming in through the linen curtains so they dusted all over your gorgeous face.

If Carmen could shift his eyes away from you (which he can’t) he would see the pretty tower of pancakes dripping with syrup and berries plated on the bedside table. Hell, if he saw how well done they were you feared the coffee might get thrown across the room and Carmen will drag you up to his face.

“Got us coffee” Carmen whispered, placing them to the side, forgotten as his mind was consumed with feeling you against him.

“Just get in here already” You giggle, before the sheets are thrown to the side and the warmth of Carmen’s body encapsulates you once again.

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neonovember · 25 days

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Request: Sam Wilson x younger, platonic! reader

Plot: Reader relaxing around Sam’s place in Louisiana-Bucky can be in it, reader’s relationship with him would be platonic or familial.

Louisiana Sun

steve, sam, bucky x platonic!daughter!reader, generous nods (i practically wrote a whole confession) to sarahbucky

things; dad!steve rogers moments, over protective steve, reader makes some risky decisions, bucky and same are basically your uncles, bucky is in love with sarah and louisiana by extension,

w/c; 4k (reader had to do a lot of convincing to let steve believe she wont get kidnapped in the presence of two soldiers)

You’ve never felt love like you did in Louisiana.

The sun baked grass, the humid winds kissing your shoulder. The vibrancy of colour and life that explodes on the streets, and in the caring waves of neighbours.

You taste home whenever Steve drives you up to Sam’s rickety gate, slamming the car door open to his objection and running through the winding bend of grass and willow trees. You can't wait for Steve to pull into Sam’s drive way, the bleached wooden porch calls to you in a way you can’t ignore.

So you find it exceptionally painful whenever Steve is swarmed with so much work he can’t make the drive up. And there was no way Steve would even let you take a plane ride by yourself, he says it’s cause he’d be too afraid but you think it’s because you help with the dishes.

It’s Friday evening at the Rogers, a night of pizza and Noir crime films you both adore. It’s spring break, and you've spent every waking hour with Steve cooped up at home. You don't mind it, it has made up for a lot of the father daughter time missed between missions. But god you can’t come back to school and say you spend the holidays with Captain America again.

“So..Sam called” You murmur, fainting nonchalance whilst you watch his every expression out of the corner of your eye. Gene Tirney’s whiskey voice blares from the TV screen in front of you.

“Uhm?” Steve replies with his mouth full.

“Yeah, he was wondering when I’d come down again to see ‘em. Bucky’s spending some time there too, helping out with the boat and Sarah” You reply, stretching your arms out in front of you.

“And what did you say” Steve replies after wiping away the smudges of sauce from his chin, eyes widening

“I said I’ll have to check with Corporal Rogers first” You tease

“Hey, I’m not anywhere near..”

“Dad we haven’t left this house in weeks, I’m not going to go another week locked in here” You reply

“I let you go places..remember Monday?”

“When you asked me to buy your cream of mushroom from the Bodega?!” You shriek, eyes boggling.

“Yes..?” Steve replies unsure, eyebrows furrowing

“That was a chore. For your own benefit by the way, I mean who in their right mind likes cream of mushroom?” You reply

“Ay, I’m not going to let you disrespect my taste in food for the second time today” Steve replies

“Oh please, I barely said anything about your choice of onions as a pizza topping-

“My pizza topping?? I was reconsidering dinner when you wanted pineapples. Fruit should not belong on pizza, there are rules. When I was your age we had-”

“To boil everything or else we’d get tetanus and die” You moan, rolling your eyes

“No..when I was your age I don't think pineapples even made it to New York yet” Steve murmurs, hand on his chin as if to truly consider it.

“Are you sure you're my father?” You reply, and are met with a soft cushion flying towards you.

“Work’s just been a lot lately kid. And I miss you too darn much to let you leave my sight. You know how I am, I see kids go missin’ everyday. Don’t know what I’d do if that happened to you cause I was reckless”

“You aren't getting sick of my face?”

“Never”

“You’re not being reckless Dad, I’m going to be with Sam for gods sake, and Bucky too! In Louisiana of all places! They probably mug you with bugnes as pistols” You giggle

“Don’t joke about that"

“Oh come on! You both were on a team for like eighty years, you don't trust them?”

“Of course I trust them, they’re your designated ‘if i get in a freak accident they take over’ people.

“Hey! Don’t joke about that” You quip

“I just like knowing you're near” Steve replies after chuckling

“I could just stay for a weekend! I’ll be back before you know it. Swear” You plead.

“You say that now..” Steve cocks his eyebrows, part of him knew you'd stay six months there if you could

You put on your best heartbroken pouted face whilst Steve goes through the motions of being finally convinced. His eyebrows furrow, his hand coming up to scratch at his golden locs as he considers it.

His shoulders slump, and before he can even say a gruntled “Fine..” You’re cheering, getting up to twirl around the lamp lit living room. Steve chuckles at your antics, eyes glinting with light at the sight of you jumping in happiness.

He knew he’d say yes in the end. You're his little girl, he can’t ever say no to you.

“Whilst you're up, switch out Laura for somethin’ else. We still got a checklist to get through”

“Isn’t it getting close to your bed time, senior citizen?” You giggle, reaching for the box of recorded movie tapes under the bookshelf dresser.

“Age ain't going to stop me from showing you what good cinema is” Steve barks, reaching for his glass of water gingerly.

You’re half through the Maltese Falcon, Sam Spade flickering his cigarette in flashes of black and white when Steve's phone rings.

He groans loudly, lying on his back with his legs stretched and laying on the coffee table with the bitten edges of pizza crust left over. The couch buzzes beneath your weight, somewhere deep within the crevices near spare change and ink pens it vibrates.

“You gonna get that old man?” You turn to Steve, mouth filled with cheesy saucy bread

“Easy now Rogers, and finish your mouthful”

You roll your eyes as Steve searches under the blanket stretched across you both, a sound of triumph leaves his throat when he grasps the metallic slick edges.

“Rogers” Steve grunts into the phone

“Ah Fury…Mhmm..didn’t they have Clint on that?..Right..”

You raise your eyebrows at the conversation between Steve and Fury, Steve pinches the bridge of his nose as he plops his head back against the head of the couch.

“For three weeks? Fury, you know I got Y/N to take care of. It’s why I transferred out of the field, it isn’t ‘cause I like reading” Steve murmurs, eyes cutting to you

Your eyebrows widen at that, mouthing to ‘pass the phone’ to Steve who shakes his head at you. Growing impatient, and longing to see Sam, Bucky and Sarah you make a mental note to blame them for the scolding of a century as you reach and swipe the phone from Steve's lazy grip.

“Yeah, I don’t know Fury- HEY”

“This is Steve Rogers manager speaking, yes he can and will be there for the mission”

“Y/N” Fury replies, his voice lit with a hint of humour at your antics.

You wrestle to escape Steve's reflexes, luckily you're a teenage girl who wants something so you're obviously faster. You throw the same pillow Steve had thrown at you before in his face, running behind the couch with the phone tucked between your ear and shoulder, poking your tongue out at Steve.

“Hey Fury! How’s the wife and kids” You remark

“Who told you about my wife and kids”

“Oh Fury, think those confidential documents are safe from a certain Spider?”

“Goddamit Parker..” Fury mutters

You doge a flying pillow headed your way, Steve’s face growing red with frustration at you missing every hit. Super soldier my ass.

“Where’ll Steve be stationed?”

“Prague-wait, aren’t you twelve? I hate to say it but the soldiers right, you can’t just be left alone-”

“One word Fury. Louisiana, Beignets and a bird”

“That’s three words”

“Yeah well I ain't twelve but I didn’t correct you on that did I?”

“I’m an old man, Y/N” Fury replies gruffly

“I’m pretty sure you were in the hospital hallway at my birth..” You murmured

“How did you-?!” Fury replies

You're too busy skipping zig zag across the living room to escape the pieces of pizza, cushions and cd covers flying your way to hear him. You heard it once that it helps dodge bullets, and with the horsepower behind your own fathers arm, you think it matches.

“Makes sense anyways, there isn't a Wilson and Barnes without a Rogers nearby. You guys are like goddamn pack members” Fury replies “Let Steve know to be packed and ready by Sunday”

“Bye Fury” You giggle, swiping the red button before throwing the phone immediately at Steve who lunges for it.

Running to hide behind the first thing you see, you peek out from the forked leaves of a potted plant to see a very angry and very dishevelled Steve.

“Is now a good time to say I got a 90 on my science quiz?” You reply with a gulp

You’re smart enough not to run out the car seat the second Sam’s house comes into view, despite the itchiness festering in your bones driving though Louisiana and not being able to finally set your feet down onto it.

Steve called Sam the next morning, and you had already packed a suitcase of clothes and necessities a few days prior. You always felt healed after every road trip, and tuning out blues and Leon Bridges whilst driving through the country felt like a respite in itself.

As Steve pulls into the dirt drive way, you see Sam perches on the deck waving towards you both. You squeeze your hands into fists until he switches the ignition off, and then you are too. The car door springs open and you're rushing into Sam’s arms, giggling as he twirls you around till you're dizzy and sick.

“You’re Father has been keeping you from us” Sam says, shooting an accusatory dagger towards Steve who has begun to unload your belongings.

“Hello to you too Sam” Steve shouts from behind the open boot with a gruff voice.

Bucky’s booming voice makes its appearance before he does, rounding the corner of the back yard wiping grease off his hands onto a dirty old rag.

“If it isn’t Miss Rogers! Took ya long enough” He replies, pulling you into a tight protective hug whilst Steve sets your duffel bags on the porch edge.

Sam turns to Steve, pulling him into a hug as well, his hand slapping his back with a loud umph.

“Shame you couldn’t stay over here as well” Sam says

“Fury. Clint needs some help down in Nové Město” Steve says tiredly after embracing Bucky.

“When Duty calls” You reply

“Steve answers” Bucky and Sam say in unison.

“It wasn’t me this time” Steve points at you accusingly “The drive up here made me start regretting it enough. Lay off will ya”

“It was okay? We’ve been getting some Black bear sightings along Wood Lake” Sam replies

“We were all right. At least I won’t have a nagging buzz in my ear the drive back” Steve teases,

“Hey!” You reply, playfully pushing his shoulder.

“Don’t worry Y/N, You’re ours now. You no longer have to face that tyrant” Bucky chirps, pulling his hair back into a bun.

“And this tyrant” Steve shifts, looking down at his watch “needs to start heading back”

“Already? Can’t stay for lunch, Sarah’s making her seafood boil” Sam replies

Steve audibly groans, rocking on the balls of his feet as he shakes his head at the thought of missing out on Sarah Wilson's Louisiana renowned seafood.

“She is? Oh my god that better not be a lie Sam” You reply. Sarah’s cooking was like no other, you’ve been begging her to hurry up and make the next best selling cookbook.

“Yup, she's got me on shucking duty” Bucky says, feigning exasperation that held very thinly over the clear adoration Bucky had whenever he talked about Sarah.

You look towards Steve, and he raises his eyebrows as you both communicate silently. Bucky was head over heels in love with Sarah Wilson, it was getting annoying seeing them do this dance.

“Alright, time for goodbyes Kiddo” Steve replies after stifling the smirk that tugs at his mouth whilst he watches Bucky crane his neck at the sound of Sarah coming through the door.

“Steve Grant Rogers, you better not have thought of leaving without giving me a proper hello” Sarah calls, her dark coils pulled into a high bun that has begun to uncurl and frame her face.

“Tsk, Sarah. Of course I wouldn't leave before seeing the better Wilson.

“You got that right” Sarah chuckles, pulling Steve into a hug. Sam grumbles profanities under his breath as he rolls his eyes.

“Where are the boys?”

“Staying with a friend, did ya'll know something about this ‘hoverboard’ mess that's going around?” Sarah questions, exhaustion clear in her tone from dealing with two children wanting something.

“Could probably call Tony and he’d just make one for you” Steve replies with a chuckle at Sarah’s tone.

“Great idea soldier. Knew you were gonna leave early so I packed you a little somethin’ for the road” Sarah smirks, passing the tote bag on her shoulder that even you could smell had something decadent wrapped in careful parchment.

“Sarah Wilson, the woman you are” Steve replies, grasping the bag gingerly with a sigh as he peers into the wrapped dish.

“Ya can say that again” Bucky mutters softly under his breath, his hand coming up to scratch at the nape of his neck as Sarah shifts her gaze to him.

“Okay, I’ll admit it I’m gonna miss you oldie” You say, rocking n your feet as the feeling of separation begins to settle.

“Com ‘ere kid”

You quickly run into the open arms of Steve, blinking back tears as you lean your head on his broad shoulder. Rocking back and forth in his embrace Steve caresses your back tenderly.

“I’ll be back before you know it. We might even stay a bit longer when I do come back” Steve whispers in your ear.

You lift your head “Really? You mean that?” You whisper, as you meet his gaze, searching for any sign of a lie.

“When have I ever lied?”

“Well there was that one time you said you weren't scared of spiders..” You reply before Steve quickly cuts you off

“Okay that's enough”

You giggle, before Steve squeezes you in his arms. Shaking his head as you both part and he sets you back down.

“Never gets easier saying goodbye'' Steve replies, before moving to embrace Sam and Bucky, and placing a chaste kiss on Sarah's cheek before turning back to you.

“Now, call me before bed and in the morning, okay?” Steve replies, his tone morphing into an authoritarian lilt.

“Yep, and I'll text you some photos and videos throughout” You reply sweetly, as Steve nods along with unblinking eyes.

“What are you doing”

“I’m just taking a mental note of how you look exactly as I left you, and I will notice any piercings, hair changes and god forbid tattoos-”

“Okay, okay, just take a photo while you’re at it”

Steve shuffles on his feet, moving the back to his shoulder as he pulls out his phone

“Oh you aren’t actually-” You say, before the flash of Steve's camera cuts you off midway.

“Alright, I think I’m good to go” Steve replies, before nodding your playful punch on his shoulder.

You walk Steve to the car, hugging him goodbye again before Sam and Bucky exchange some information about something confidential, top secret, and definitely one you shouldn't listen in on.

But you do.

And it’s boring anyway.

The kitchen is bustling by mid afternoon, shells of craw fish and prawns scattered on the table counter and the dirty water of shelled oysters flowing down the edge of the grassy front lawn.

The smells of cajun seasoning and buttered corn leaves you asking Sarah when it's done every five minutes till she’s banishing you from the kitchen and sending you off with a lemonade.

You move through the littered toys and figurines AJ and Cass had left in their clear hurry to spend the night at a friend's and push the screen door open with your hip. Careful to not spill your drink, you take a seat on one of the rocking chairs on the porch with a sigh.

The sounds of the nearby pier docked with ships and fisherman makes its way even down the rocky dirt roads of Sam’s place, easy against the chirps and rustles of shrikes up above the oak and willow trees around the house.

You don't come to Louisiana to escape noise, life is all around you when you pay attention to it. New York is always awake, even at night- especially at night. Louisiana has a kind of hum that’s different, it feeds your soul.

Curling your feet underneath you, the screen door opens with a wack as Bucky stumbles onto the porch. The moisture of the beer drips down his fingers as he sits down on the adjacent chair to you.

“Sarah kick you out too?” You reply with a giggle as Bucky grumbles under his breath.

“I was just askin’ if we need to make this much food for four people..” Bucky replies, shaking his head with regret as he rests it on the back of the chair.

“Ooh rookie move mister” You reply teasingly, before Bucky cuts his eyes to you

“Oh and asking the equivalent of “are we there yet” is any better” Bucky banters, taking a swing of his beer before immediately grimacing.

“How’s you get Steve to agree to leave you for three weeks” Bucky starts, bringing his feet up to rest against the porch wooden fence.

“Oh I didn’t, Fury called and I just snatched the phone and told him he’d be there” You replied

“And you’re still breathing?!” Bucky replies incredulously

“I’m shocked by myself. But what about you?”

“Me? What about me?” Bucky replies with an eyebrow raised

“Are you staying in Louisiana indefinitely? Makes it a lot easier to convince Dad to move down here too” You continue

“I..I don't know. Maybe. Helping Sam out with the boat and everything has been good. Really good in fact. The people here aren't afraid of me..or this” Bucky points to the vibranium compartments of his arm.

“I wasn’t, I knew they wouldn't be too” You muse, smiling as Bucky looks up at you.

“Thanks kid. Finally starting to feel normal again, part of the community now I suppose. It’s weird, even back in Brooklyn i never felt so..a part of something before”

“Can’t just up and leave ‘em like I would’ve before. Especially when Sam needs my help”

“And Sarah” You add, hiding the smile behind a nonchalant nod.

“Yeah..Sarah” Bucky adds, his eyes glazing over as he leans back, eyes shifting to the towering tree leaves that cover half the sky.

You watch him carefully, seeing the way his leg jitters a little at the mere mention of Sarah, how so in love he is with her and you can’t help yourself anymore.

“You love her, don't you?” You murmur, as Bucky quickly swings his head to look at you.

“Hmp?”

“Sarah?” You inquire, raising your eyebrows with a smirk.

“I see the way you look at her, the way you both look at each other, and I’m here practically every summer break. Which is never”

Bucky’s face morphs from shock to realisation, sitting upright as he scratches at his dark overgrown hair.

“You think she looks at me? I mean, in that way?” Bucky asks after a pregnant pause, his voice quiet and filled with anxious shyness. He can’t even look at you, looking out into the rounding hills of the roads and houses ahead.

“I know she does. Let it be the teenage girl who can tell who is acting like two love sick high schoolers” You grin, as Bucky’s eyes twinkle, unable to hide the adoration and love about to burst through.

“Or let that Chef who came down from Chicago swept her off her feet..what was his name again?” You tease, wiggling your eyebrows as you take a sip of your melting lemonade.

“Easy now, Rogers” Bucky replies with a bark, jaw clenching at the thought of Sarah being with anyone else.

“Foods ready!” Sam calls out from the kitchen window and Bucky helps you up from your seat, tipping out the last of his drink onto the stepped on grass before you both make your way back inside.

The thick book raised high above your face does little to block out the midday sun, you’re lying on the dock, the wooden planks warm underneath your shirt as the ends of your hair dip into the lake’s surface.

It’s a quiet hidden sort of mystical place, off the side of Sarah’s house where practically nobody but the Wilson's and by extension now you and Bucky now know about. Sarah divulged memories of spending new years here with the boys and their father years before, how it seemed likes their own little getaway.

The yellowed pages of Bucky’s first edition Hobbit flick between your fingers as you fly through the adventures of Bilbo and the fantastical realm of Erebor. You notice AJ and Cass’s squeals and laughter suddenly silent, and for the first time since you had laid down you sit upright looking across the grassy field.

The boy’s frisbee you had lost many games to earlier is dashed to the side, and as you wipe lazy exhaustion from your eyes to see Sam pull out a notebook and pen on the rug. Dusting off the dirt from the dock, you make your way through the grassy foxgloved trail towards him.

“Where did everyone go?” You question, throwing the book onto the soft cushioned floor.

“Bucky and Sarah had to take the boys home, AJ somehow ended up hurting himself on grass. And before you ask no I don’t know how”

You giggle before plopping down on some cushions, stretching your arms out with a groan.

It’s easy to talk to Sam. About school, about New York, about life, everything.The unrelenting sun helps ease the discomfort of certain things sure, but Sam has always been your person.

“Whatcha doing?” You ask, looking at Sam scribble some things into the paper

“I like to write sometimes. Not for anyone else, just for myself. Can be about how I’m feeling some days, people I remember, hell even some poetry”

“I tried the whole journal taking thing, the counselor at school said it might be good since I don't have a “conventional family dynamic”. Psycho babble for, everyone you know and love have fought aliens in space and have the capability to take down a government.

“I mean, there was that one time the Quinjet dropped you off at school” Sam chuckled

“That was one time! And that was because Tony hates traffic” You add, shaking your head at the embarrassment of disembarking from a 30 feet aircraft that works as a spaceship.

“But it must be hard, ya know? Having to share your dad with the rest of the world”.

“Hm? Sarah’s boys share you with them too”

“Yeah, but you know it's different. Parents are meant to be plain, they’re meant to live through us. Imprint all their expectations and dreams onto us”

“Well, maybe you should start seein’ things at what they ‘could’ be, instead of what they're meant to be. Sure, I don't have the kind of Dad that comes from the office at 5pm and has days off. But I get..this. You and Bucky, Sarah and a damn Asgardian King as my family. My Dad spent his whole life fighting, showed me what having immovable morals and good character makes of you. Wouldn’t trade it for the world, makes you feel a lot safer when there's an inbuilt super hero team on speed dial too”

“Damn you Rogers and your century wisdom. You spent a couple decades in the ice too?”

“Haha, don't group me with that icicle.

Birds chirp and warm wind tussles the grass you lay on.

“Oh Louisiana"

“Nothing like it ey?”

“In the entire world. Get now why Steve never allowed me to stay longer than a week”

“Why’s that?” “Cause I'd never leave. I'd probably force him to retire and build a house with his bare hands across the road from you”.

Sam chuckles.

The sound of footsteps makes its way from the trail, and Bucky appears rounding the corner, his vibranium arm glinting in the sun.

“Do I hear the familiar crinkling of Guidry’s?” You shout out excitedly as Bucky raises the familiar peach coloured paper bag in the air

“Easy with the goods, Barnes” Sam calls out, before Bucky plops down next to you, ripping open the pastry bag to unveil the perfectly powdered beignets still warm.

“Told Elijah you had come down for a visit and he gave a little extra” Bucky says, before reaching for one of the pastries dusted in snow.

“Yeah…Steve was right” You reply, after groaning at the sweet and airy taste of the most perfect fluffy pastry you have ever tasted

“Bout what?” Sam and Bucky both say in unison mouths filled and faces covered in powdered sugar

“I’m never gonna leave” You giggle, wiping the sugar from your chin.

The sun makes its disembark down the coastline, as tunes of Etta Jones, Rockettes and Hozier murmur from Sam’s faded blue speaker. You fill your stomach on sugary beignets and sweet tea, leaving sticky fingerprints on card faces through hour long games of Euchre through the afternoon light.

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