...snap when you have to. 18+, she/her, Leo, married to Steve Rogers (I wish) || Demi-bi || Lazy (That's not such a great thing to annouce here though) || Foodie || You *probably* came here from my YouTube so you'd know the rest of my bio from there
And Then It Rained (gender neutral!reader) : Steve hates the rain, but you love it.
A Word Portrait of Steve Rogers (gender neutral!reader) : You lose yourself in admiring Steve.
And She Was A Goddess, slight ⚠ (female!reader) : Steve deals with your body image issues
McFlurry [AU] (modern!Steve, gender neutral!reader) : You're having a bad night, but a McDonald's cashier fixes it all.
Little Tired Eye (gender neutral!reader) : Steve is your comfort person. You know that will never change.
Labyrinth (gender neutral!reader, platonic Steve x reader) : You know Steve well enough to know where his priorities lie.
Back Rubs (female!reader) : Period cramps suck, but Steve is happy to help you out with them.
মনের মানুষ - Soulmate (gn!indian!bengali!reader) : your heart is aching for a home that no longer exists. Steve finds you in the middle of emotional turmoil.
F1:
Charles Leclerc/Carlos Sainz Jr.
be brave about it : Carlos blurts out things he didn't meant to, and thinks he can escape the consequences by hiding inside the FW48 and his garage.
say that we'll be together : Charles' mind was racing with a million different possibilities as to what had gone wrong at this hour, preparing him for the worst, and yet, he opened to the door to the most unexpected sight - Carlos.
unstoppable force (f1 scheduling next year so that max can't participate because they look like clowns rn to everyone who watches racing) vs immovable object (nurburgring 24h will move to accomodate max because the amount of publicity he brings will off set any cost of the movement)
Asa is becoming more and more secure in their relationship, and Anthony is gradually discovering the different facets that make up the bookseller’s personality.
Notes
Includes: flannel pajamas, wool socks, hot cocoa, and lots of fluff.
On Ao3
Rating G - 1877 words
It was almost 10 p.m., and Anthony still hadn’t got in touch.
Asa put down the book he was reading and settled more comfortably onto the couch.
Half an hour earlier, as evening wore on, he’d changed into his flannel pyjamas and thick woolly socks.
He’d hesitated a little because it wasn’t the most elegant outfit with which to welcome his lover.
However, he’d remembered Anthony’s words about being himself rather than who he thought Anthony wanted him to be, and told himself that if that kind of outfit scared Anthony off, then he wasn’t the man Asa thought he was.
His phone vibrated in his hand, startling him.
It was, of course, Anthony.
I know it's late, but can I still come over?
As if Asa would say no.
Who said earlier that what's written is written?
Of course you can! Actually, you have to!
The answer came almost immediately and caught Asa off guard.
Then open the door for me.
Asa hurried over to press the button to open the ground-floor door. Then he opened the door to his apartment and waited for Anthony to arrive.
He heard his lover's quick footsteps before seeing him rush toward him.
"Aaaah, the light at the end of the tunnel."
Anthony pressed a light kiss to Asa’s lips before Asa took his jacket and bag to set them aside.
When he returned to Anthony, Anthony ran a finger along the lapel of his pajama jacket and said gently, "At least you were comfortable while waiting for me."
"Yeah, I know. Not very glamorous, right?"
Anthony wrapped his arms around Asa, pressed his face against his neck, inhaled deeply, and then straightened up. "Who needs glamour when I have such a warm and cozy welcome?"
A little embarrassed, Asa said, "I made some cocoa. Want a mug?"
"You’re perfect, you know. A real treat after that boring meeting."
Asa brushed Anthony’s hair back and gently stroked his cheek, noticing his tired features.
"You should go make yourself comfortable on the couch while I get the mugs."
"Hmm, that sounds like heaven."
Asa chuckled softly as he headed toward the kitchen. Meanwhile, Anthony took off his shoes and walked over to the couch.
He practically collapsed onto it, rolled up his shirt sleeves, undid a few buttons, and let out a satisfied sigh.
Just then, Asa returned with two mugs. He handed Anthony one and sat down next to him, holding his own.
Anthony blew on his mug before taking a sip and grunting with delight.
Asa asked, showing genuine interest, "So, how was the meeting?"
As they sipped their cocoa, Anthony talked about his meeting, answering Asa's questions. Then, he asked Asa what he’d been doing while waiting for him.
"Nothing extraordinary, really. Just dinner and enjoying a book on my couch."
Anthony shook his head and replied, "Still, your cozy little routine sounds a lot more interesting than my meeting."
He emptied his cup, set it on the coffee table, leaned back against the sofa, and stretched his long legs out in front of him with a grimace.
Asa finished his cocoa too, but instead of settling onto the couch, he pulled a cushion from behind him and placed it on the table in front of Anthony, whose eyes were following him, a confused expression on his face.
Asa then lifted Anthony’s feet and placed them on the cushion, making Anthony moan in contentment.
"Glamour, yeah, right. Who needs glamour when you’ve got this?"
He turned to Asa, opened his arms, and beckoned him to come closer. Asa didn’t need to be asked twice, climbing onto the couch to snuggle up against his lover. He curled up against Anthony’s chest, a position becoming more and more familiar, as Anthony’s hand buried itself in his hair, gently stroking it.
"Anthony?"
"Hm?"
"Is it always this easy?"
Anthony brushed Asa’s hair back, kissed his forehead, and answered gently, "I couldn't tell you. I've never known anything like this."
Asa looked up at Anthony, who brushed his lips with another kiss.
"Me neither," Asa whispered back. "And..."
"It's a little scary," Anthony continued.
Asa nodded. "It is, but then I think about something Derek told me yesterday. That it didn't always have to be complicated. And that’s it. From the start, which is technically only three days ago..."
They chuckled together.
Then Asa continued, "Ever since we've known each other, everything's been falling into place little by little. No matter how much I tell myself we should take it slower, I just can’t. I’m a little weird, aren’t I?"
Anthony chuckled softly. "Then I am too because I feel the same way, you know? I've come to the conclusion that the speed doesn't matter if we're both in it together. At our own pace."
"Put that way, it sounds a lot less scary."
Anthony hummed, his mouth against Asa’s hair, and they stayed like that for a little while longer in silence before Anthony started to move.
He sighed. "I really don’t want to, but I’m going to have to think about going home."
Asa turned his face into Anthony’s chest and muttered, "You could stay."
Anthony gasped.
"What did you say?"
Asa lifted his head and repeated in a firmer voice, "You could stay." Then he added, "To sleep."
Anthony nodded and asked playfully, "On the couch?"
Asa tapped him on the chest and said, "Idiot, I have a big bed."
"By the way, you haven't shown me your bedroom."
Anthony gave him an exaggeratedly suggestive wink. The potential seduction was ruined, however, by a huge yawn, which triggered a burst of laughter from Asa.
Asa stood up, held out his hand to help Anthony up, and led him to the adjoining bathroom. After they'd each gone in to get ready for bed, Asa handed Anthony a pair of his sweatpants and a soft, worn cotton T-shirt.
Asa sat on the edge of the bed and watched Anthony change, taking off his pajama top and leaving him in just the T-shirt.
After all, Anthony had a gorgeous body, and it would be a shame not to look at it.
Just as Anthony slipped his head through the T-shirt, he looked at Asa and winked, letting him know he was aware that Asa was watching. But, instead of looking away, Asa kept watching. Blatantly.
With a soft smile on his lips, Anthony said, "Once again, you're so brave."
Asa replied with a wink, "I'm learning."
By the time they finally slipped into bed, the atmosphere had grown slightly more awkward. Asa was lying on his back and staring at the ceiling, his heart pounding. It had been years since he’d shared a bed with anyone, and old anxieties about propriety and boundaries flashed through his mind, but they vanished the moment Anthony moved.
Without hesitation, Anthony shifted, pulled up the comforter, and drew Asa close in one fluid motion, as if they were two puzzle pieces finally fitting together. He slipped behind Asa, wrapped an arm around his waist, and pulled him tight against his chest.
Asa bent his knees slightly and snuggled up against Anthony in the spooning position, comfortably nestling in the hollow of his chest. The slight panic that had begun to overwhelm Asa evaporated, replaced by a deep sense of peace as he relaxed against his lover.
Anthony’s breathing was steady, and Asa could feel his breath in his hair.
Anthony brushed a kiss against the nape of Asa’s neck and whispered, "Good night, sweetheart."
Asa's heart leapt at the endearing term.
"Good night, Anthony."
Only a hum answered him, and the weariness of the day finally carried Asa off right after Anthony, into a peaceful, dreamless sleep.
The dim morning light filtered through the curtains, and Asa stirred, feeling a gentle, indescribable sense of contentment wash over him before he was fully awake.
A warmth against him.
Anthony.
He must have been awake, too, because Asa felt his fingers in his hair, caressing it with a delicacy that took his breath away.
Asa let out a soft hum of pleasure and surrendered to the gentle touch.
"You know," he murmured in a sleepy voice, "this is probably the best way to wake up. I think I could get used to this."
He felt Anthony smile against his neck and heard his amused chuckle vibrate through his chest.
"Maybe that's my plan, then," Anthony replied softly. "Maybe I'm doing it on purpose, just to make sure you can't stand being apart from me."
Asa turned in his arms, careful not to break contact until their noses touched.
"Anthony," he said, raising his hand to stroke Anthony’s jaw with his thumb. "It's a little late for that. I don’t think I can be away from you anymore." Anthony said nothing, simply leaning forward and closing the last centimeter between them. It was a slow kiss, a lazy exploration. They moved together with a fluid, natural ease as if they had always woken up like this.
They stayed that way for a while longer, entwined in the sheets and savoring this new closeness and step in their relationship. Until a rumbling from Asa’s stomach reminded them that it was time to get up.
After freshening up and getting dressed, they made breakfast together. Asa marveled once again at how easily they moved together in his small kitchen.
A little later, as they sat at the table, Anthony asked, "What time do you have to be at the bookshop?"
After taking a sip of coffee, Asa answered, "Derek's opening up today, so I don't need to be there until ten."
Glancing at the wall clock behind Anthony, he continued, "I've still got about an hour before I have to leave. What about you?"
"Not much. Just preparing for class and unpacking a few more boxes."
Asa slid his hand across the table and placed it on Anthony’s. "Is it too much to ask if I say I'd like to have dinner with you tonight?"
Anthony traced the back of Asa’s hand with his index finger and replied, "Is it too much to ask if I suggest we have dinner at my place tonight?"
They shared a knowing laugh.
"Your place," Asa agreed. "I'll bring the wine."
"And I’ll make sure the couch is ready for another round of quality cuddles," Anthony promised, delighted by the giggle that escaped Asa’s lips.
"Well, I’m going to head out so you can get ready in peace."
They stood up together, and as Asa walked Anthony to the door,
Anthony kissed him tenderly before stroking his cheek. "Have a good day, and see you tonight," he said. Then he turned to leave.
"See you tonight," Asa repeated.
He stood rooted to the spot until the sound of Anthony’s footsteps faded into the distance.
He gently closed the door, turned toward the living room, and saw the two cocoa mugs from the previous evening on the coffee table. He tidied the cushions on the sofa, took the mugs to the kitchen, and put them in the dishwasher with the breakfast dishes.
sick to death of people giving up on their fav athletes bc they have bad bouts of performance . i will stay delusional until the very end. they will win it all. they are the goat. best to ever do it. in the game forever. never ever doubting them. hashtag my losing dog 4ever
Steve Rogers Masterlist | Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist
Pairing: pre-serum Steve Rogers x F!Plus-Sized!Reader
Word Count: 1777
Series Summary: Steve and our Reader, Sweets, have always been a bit unlucky in love. However, that all begins to change with the help of a forgotten sketch and some meddling best friends.
Chapter Summary: You find a sketch that calls to you enough to leave your number. A small detail soon has you questioning that decision though.
Warnings: allusions to Reader's past relationships (not all great) and Steve's own dating history
A/N: And we're finally here with the first official chapter of our renamed Bucky's Best Friend fic with a whole new beginning for our two sweet beans. It's my hope to post a new chapter each week, but I'll do what I can to keep you updated if that needs to change. I hope you enjoy this story as it unfolds.
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I do not give permission to have my works copied, translated, reposted, or fed into an AI machine.
It started with a forgotten sketch.
You’d come into the community center when you came across the sketch left on an easel in the corner of the room.
It’d been a rather simple sketch, but the lines spoke to you. It didn’t take an expert to know that the lines had a fluidity to them, speaking to the person’s hours of practice to perfect. The way those same lines had been shaped was as rough as it was purposeful. You could just make out the building they’d been sketching. A newer building in the city that had everyone abuzz, and clearly, it had intrigued this artist to recreate it.
A closer inspection had you spying the artist’s initials in the corner.
S.R.
They gave nothing more about the artist, but it was a start.
Grabbing a sticky note from the stack keep in the instructor’s desk of the room, you wrote: Love your work. Hope to get a chance to see more of it one day. You signed it and set it on the back of the paperboard.
At the last second, you decided to add your number.
Before your students began to trickle in, you took the piece to the center’s main desk.
“Hey, Sharon, mind storing this somewhere safe? I wouldn’t want anything from my class or the others to ruin such hard work.”
“You got it.” Sharon took the piece from you with a smile. It widened as she took in the piece and the little note you’d placed on the back. “Steve will love knowing someone likes his stuff. He’s usually pretty private with it. Actually kinda surprised he forgot this one. Must’ve been distracted last night.”
Not sure what to say to that, you simply shrugged and headed back to the classroom. After all, you had your own class to set up, and students would be coming soon enough. You didn’t like keeping them waiting if you could help it.
As soon as your class started, you quickly forgot about the sketch and the artist himself.
Teaching canning and jarring was something well within your wheelhouse.
It’d been a household normality growing up with your grandparents, and it was something you continued into your adulthood. Well, that and tending to the small garden you’d managed to eek out of the tiny balcony of your shared apartment with your best friend. Gardening and canning/jarring went well together, and you enjoyed the work.
While you couldn’t say it was such a normality any longer, you enjoyed it still as a hobby that helped save you a few extra dollars each year. You got the chance to share your bounty as well with neighbors, food pantries, and even make a few extra dollars on the side at one or two craft shows. Not only that, but you got to experiment with different flavors in the jams, jellies, and preserves you especially favored over other canning goods.
Your class did well with their latest canning journey.
Several of them came up to you after class, hoping to get a few pointers.
The little pack of them kept you from seeing the dark-haired man standing in the doorway, watching you with a keen eye. He missed nothing as he watched you answer questions patiently and with a kindness he didn’t often see much. His eyes continued to study you even after the last of your students filed out, excited about your next class already. While he caught some of their excitement, he continued to watch you as you moved with a grace that bespoke comfort within your surroundings.
In the end, he could only nod.
You might just be the one his friend has been looking for.
With that thought, he finally walked away.
Unaware of the man who’d been watching you, you moved to gather up your stuff and head out for the evening. A smile flitted along your lips as you recalled how much your students had grown into their knowledge of canning and jarring these past few weeks. It wouldn’t be long before they’d be graduating on to other classes outside the community center. The thought should’ve saddened you, but you took heart instead. It would mean you’d done your duty and you’d soon be welcoming a new set of students.
You could live with that.
Besides, it wasn’t as if your previous students didn’t pop in now and then. A lot of them did, actually, and you loved every second of learning what more they’d learned in their hobby journeys. Some of them had even gone on to do what she did with jarring and canning for a bit of extra money on the side. It never failed to make your heart soar at seeing them so proud of themselves.
Checking to ensure you didn’t miss anything, you stepped out of the classroom and moved toward the main desk.
Sharon glanced up as you did and shot you one of her more devious smirks.
“That sketch you saved?”
At your nod, she continued, “Well, Steve’s BFF dropped by to collect it. He might’ve seen your note and asked you keep the sketch. Said since you liked it so much, then you should have it. He did say he’d make sure Steve got your note. If I didn’t know better, I’d say he was a little smitten with you. He probably watched you for a good five minutes before finally leaving.”
“He was watching me?”
You couldn’t help glancing around to see if the man still remained despite Sharon’s words.
To say you were more than a little disconcerted with being watched would be an understatement. You weren’t someone people typically went out of their way to watch, but it wasn’t as if you didn’t garner attention now and again, either wanted or unwanted.
“Not in a creepy way,” she offered, sensing your growing discomfort. “He was just a bit intrigued. Curious, even. It’s not often, like I mentioned earlier, that Steve gets a lot of attention. I’m sure his friend just wanted to get an idea of you, that’s all, and I’m not helping, am I?”
You gave a short shake of your head.
Sharon deflated a little, but she seemed determined to erase your fears, even if just a tiny bit. “I swear they’re not creeps. I’ve known them for a few years now. They’re both good guys, and I know they respect others’ boundaries. Just not every day that someone takes note of Steve is all. He’s not what you’d call eye candy. Bucky tends to get more attention because he is definitely some pretty eye candy, even after his accident. He really was just curious about you. That’s all. He would never dream of bothering you. So, please, don’t think you’re getting a stalker or something, okay?”
At her clearly distressed diatribe, you finally allowed yourself to nod along.
Sharon would never deliberately lie to you. Not about something like this. No, she was one of your staunchest supporters since you first started teaching at the community center. If anything, she was just as protective of you as your best friend was.
Maybe though, it wouldn’t be the worst thing to let said best friend and roommate know about this.
You were fairly sure that you wouldn’t feel quite so comfortable teaching your next class without an extra pair of eyes.
And no way were you going to accept that art piece.
Not under these circumstances.
To your everlasting gratitude, Sharon didn’t fight you on it when you told her as much though she did say, “I’ll keep it here just in case, okay? It’ll be safe in our director’s office.”
"Yeah, okay. I'll, uh, see you next week."
Sharon nodded, already moving towards the director's office with the piece in tow. She'd keep her word though you couldn't say that it'll do a lot of good. If only you'd thought better about giving your number to the artist, but then, there was nothing to be done, was there?
Hopefully, Sharon was right about him and his friend.
You really, really hoped so.
"I'm not calling or texting her. Drop it, Buck," Steve practically shouted even as Bucky waved the sticky in his face. "Sharon already said you creeped her out. Better to leave her alone."
"But she's perfect for you. I know it. She's the one," Bucky countered, trying valiantly to shove the sticky note into Steve's hand.
"You act like we're in some Disney movie or something. She's not a princess to break a spell placed by some evil witch. She's just a person who wants to live her life without being bothered, I'm sure, by jerks like you. Besides, I'm fine with the way things are. I don't need or want more than what I've built for myself."
Those last words tasted like ash in his mouth, but he refused to give in to Bucky's pleas.
The truth of the matter was he did want to find the right partner for himself. His unluckiness in love did bug him. Why wouldn't it? He'd seen his share of friends finding their life partners and their happiness. Why wouldn't he want a piece of that for himself, too?
"You should at least text her a thank you," Bucky insisted, pulling Steve from his thoughts. "She deserves at least that acknowledgement for her note."
Shaking his head, Steve met Bucky's imploring gaze, the sticky note still stretched between them.
"Will that get you off my back?"
Bucky nodded. "For now, yeah."
"Fine," Steve sighed, taking the sticky note from Bucky's hand. He pulled out his old cell and waited for it to respond to his wake-up command. It took another minute to put in her number and type out the simple text: Thank you, S.R. When he finished and hit send, he turned his phone so Bucky could see the sent text. "Happy?"
Bucky shot him a rare wide grin. "Ecstatic. Thank you."
"All right, jerk. It's late, and I've got an early morning tomorrow. If we're done here, I'm going to bed."
"Yeah, we're done. Night, punk."
It was only as he slid under his covers that he heard his phone ding with a new message.
You're welcome, it read.
Nothing more, nothing less.
He would leave it at that, too. No sense in pushing his luck after sending that other after learning everything from Sharon earlier. If you wanted to get to know him, then fate would have to bring you two together. Maybe fate would intervene, especially if Bucky was right about you being the one for him.
A guy could hope, couldn't he?
I don't do tag lists, but you're more than welcome and highly encouraged to check out/follow my fic archive, @callasficlibrary for all updates on stories. It's all that goes there.
i will never forgive the marvel writers for separating steve and bucky a second time after all they went through just to be together and have each other again.
I told you, you heard me: I told you never to follow me into Hell. Now I’m not vain enough to think that’s why you’re out here now — if there’s any person in what’s left of this God forsaken planet who’s part of a bigger picture, it’d be you. But I’ll keep saying it until it sticks. You got nothing to prove. I’m not worth much, I damn well know that, but I’ll ask you anyway…
