Public Announcements | 40s!Steve Rogers & Bucky Barnes
Pairing: Bucky Barnes/Adelaide Stone/Steve Rogers
Warnings: technically not canon to the 40s au, historical use of the word colored as a self-descriptor, allusions to 1940s racism and homophobia, teasing, Bucky (because, again, he is his own warning), polycule silliness, Marmalaide (bc they're also a warning ok? Ok.)
Word count: 689
A/N: Look... Bucky just makes me write more, ok? I do not control it. My hand slipped. Remember when I started that tally for days I actually meet the word limit? It's still at three. Blame him.
For the January Jumble Scribbles challenge hosted by @societynsoelsscribbles | Jan. 12: Let them say we're crazy, what do they know?
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"So, we're really doing this?" Adelaide asked, heart fluttering. It was nerve-wracking, certainly, but they were all tired of hiding. Love wasn't something that should have had to be hidden away, and yet, they'd been hiding for months. Steve and Bucky shared a look, then nodded.
"Yeah. Just say the word," Bucky shrugged, like it was that simple, turning to Steve to confirm they were all on the same page.
"Easy for you to say," Steve chuckled, shaking his head. "I think you're the only one who's never had to care about what other people think."
"Who gives a fuck what they think?" Bucky asked, grabbing one of each of their hands. "Only thing that matters here is us. I love you guys, and I'm tired of pretending to only say that platonically."
"As much as I hate to gang up on you, Buck, Steve's got a point. You remember the headlines when it came out that Captain America was dating a colored girl," she scoffed, rolling her eyes at the memory. The things people had said about her… "Not exactly thrilled to see what they say when they find out their beloved hero is bisexual and sharing a boyfriend with his wife."
She was backtracking. Again. This was the fourth or fifth time they'd talked about going public, and she and Steve had always gotten cold feet. Bucky was sick of it. He held her face in his hands, pressing a loving kiss to her forehead and looking directly into her eyes with a burning passion in his stare. "Let them say we're crazy," he said simply. "What do they know? They don't know you or me or Steve. Besides, it's not like they can do anything about it, anyway. We got a Sergeant, a Captain, and a General. Wh—" He was cut off when Adelaide spoke.
"You know that's not official, right? The only people who use that outside of the Commandos are an Agent and a civilian," she frowned, referring to Peggy and Howard.
"It still counts," Bucky and Steve insisted simultaneously, making Adelaide laugh.
"What are they gonna do about it, huh? They can't touch us." Steve seemed to agree, now fully on board with the plan, but Adelaide still hesitated. If there was one thing she was great at, it was arguing.
"Break up the Commandos. Put you on a different assignment. Throw me in the WAC, which would mean shipping me back to the States. I can think of about a thousand different thi—"
"Then stop thinking."
"Not everyone has such an easy time turning their brain off, Barnes," she chuckled. "Right, Steve?" Knowing she was looking for someone to back her up on staying in the shadows, her husband refused to back her up.
"Well, you know the stereotype about blondes being dumb," he said, only half joking. "I think it's time, Addie. You know we've got your back, right? Not that you need it, but we do."
After a long sigh, Adelaide finally gave into her heart's desires, no matter how scary they were. "What the hell? We're gonna be in the history books, anyway. Might as well make it interesting. One question, though: …how are we supposed to do this?" Bucky grinned at the opportunity, glad that she'd asked.
"See, I've been thinking—" he started, only to be met with a groan from his girlfriend.
"Did it hurt?" Steve teased, smirking.
"When somebody asks who I love more, I'm saying it's Adelaide," Bucky said dryly, making his boyfriend frown. Adelaide, on the other hand, grinned.
"Yeah, but that would've been true anyway, right?"
"'Course it would, sugar," he answered, not breaking his gaze on Steve.
"Jerk," Steve scoffed.
"Punk," Bucky retorted.
"Idiots," Adelaide laughed.
"Do I at least get to be your favorite?" Steve asked his wife, shooting her his biggest puppy eyes.
"I don't pick favorites."
"Sure didn't feel that way when you married him," Bucky huffed, playfully hurt.
"Shut up, or I'll marry you, too," Adelaide laughed, as if it were a threat.
"Well, shit, lemme go find the rabbi; let's do that before we make headlines!"
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Warnings: technically not canon to the 40s au, mention of racist laws, Bucky mentioned but not really involved (tragic, I know), Steve can't dance, tooth-rotting fluff because Steve is the sweetest man on the fucking planet other than maybe Bucky (they're tied for first place shh)
Word count: 300
A/N: I'm starting a tally on times I meet the word requirement. This is #3 and only thanks to editing down about 12 words.
For the January Jumble Scribbles challenge hosted by @societynsoelsscribbles | Jan. 7: Do you love me now that I can dance?
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Steve had been taking dance lessons in secret to surprise her.
Adelaide had known since the beginning that he had two left feet, that he'd never so much as danced on his own before, let alone with a girl. She, on the other hand, only got to be so close with him because he'd offered her a job as a dancer with the USO troupe. Now, just months later, they were fighting on the front lines—and engaged. He took dance lessons between missions, usually with Bucky playing the unlucky role of his partner whose feet got stampeded, preparing for the day they'd overturn anti-miscegenation laws and he could finally marry her.
He'd gotten a lot better. After much goading, Bucky had finally managed to convince him to give Adelaide a demonstration, to have that first dance with her he'd been craving since the day they'd met. He even helped Steve put together a little tap routine, which felt ridiculous, but all his embarrassment washed away at the sight of her smile. Now, panting, finished with his little show, he asked, "So, do you love me, now that I can dance?"
Of course, he was only asking to tease her. In true Adelaide fashion, she teased back. "Hmm… might love you a little less, actually," she hummed, almost sounding serious.
"What?" He looked crushed, eyes sad and vulnerable.
"You know I'm kidding, right?" she chuckled. "I can't believe you did all of that just for me. How the hell did I ever get so lucky to end up with a guy like you?"
"How the hell did I ever get so lucky to be the guy you ended up with? More importantly… can I have this dance?" he asked with a smile, extending his hand. Gleefully, she took it.
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Still working on flufftober day one (we'll get there at some point I think) and I just think it's funny how the whole piece has kinda become "the Howling Commandos can't roll their eyes enough at how mushy these two are, except for Bucky, who wants needs to be their third"
My writing has elevated from "Steve Rogers was very aggressively closeted in the 40s due to internalized homophobia" to "Bucky Barnes has never seen a motherfucking closet in his LIFE and he wants to make sure everyone knows that (Steve got stuck in the closet for so long because Bucky didn't know what the closet looks like to drag him out)"
Anyway. Never underestimate the power of three bisexuals a sneeze away from forming a polycule.
sharing this bc i need you all to have the brainworms with me
"So... what do you think about her?" Steve asked, nervous. He could only hope that the two most important people in his life would get along, be friends, like each other as much as he did.
"Y'know, I don't think we've ever agreed on taste in women before, but honestly? I'm a bit jealous. You got all big and muscley and found the perfect girl, while I got captured by Nazi extremists who tried to experiment on me. What'd I do to deserve that karma?"
"Well, there is that whole long line of girls back home you said you'd call and never did. Maybe this is justice for them." He gets a proper laugh from Bucky on that one.
"Okay, smartass! You know what? Anything ever happens to you, I'm swoopin' in to steal your girl."
"Assuming she'd have you, there's no one I'd rather have watching her back. That being said, I'm never taking food or drink from you again, just in case it's been poisoned." Bucky rolled his eyes but wasn't successful in keeping his laugh in.
"Oh, shut the fuck up! You don't even know how lucky you are," he argued. Steve shook his head.
"Quite the opposite. I think you don't know how lucky I am. She's everything, Buck. I'm gonna marry her someday."
"Haven't you only been dating for two weeks?" He nodded in confirmation.
"And I'm already thinking about rings."
Warnings: playful arguments, poly shenanigans, my MCU timeline is vastly different from canon whoops, Bucky's the hyper-competitive one but I think it was Steve who won the fight (comment your opinion and I'll make a tally lmao), best friend!Peter Parker mentioned but not present (though you know he's using this against the guys for months after the fact whoops)
A/N: I'm not fully sure how to articulate it, but "which partner do you love more" honestly seems like the poly version of "would you love me if I was a worm" bc of how ridiculous it is + they already know the answer.
Word count: 724
For the January Jumble Scribbles challenge hosted by @societynsoelsscribbles | Jan. 28: "I actually watch her back and not her backside."
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After coming home from a mission, Bucky and Steve made it all of five steps off the Quinjet before launching into one of their typical fake arguments. This time, since Adelaide had been with them, they made it about their wife.
"—and at least I actually watch her back and not her backside," Steve finished, smirking at his husband.
"I resent that, Rogers!" Bucky huffed. "Who do you think had her six while you were busy fuckin' around, bein' a fugitive for two years while all the Accords bullshit settled?"
Steve didn't miss a beat. "Peter," he said in deadpan. Bucky slapped a hand over his heart in offense, clearly about to defend himself when Steve spoke again. "You were in Wakanda getting deprogrammed!" he argued.
"That was only for six months!" Bucky argued back, voice shifting up an octave. "We had a whole two years before your ass finally popped back into the Tower, thank you very much!"
Steve hated that he had a point. It left him with few options, so he went with the most obvious: "Yeah, well, whose name did she put before the hyphen, huh? She picked Rogers-Barnes, not Barnes-Rogers. Face it, Buck; I just love her more." Bucky rolled his eyes so hard, both of his spouses thought he would sprain them.
"Please. We both know that's bullshit. I proposed first. Of course I love her more!"
"I loved her first. I get seniority." It was a card Bucky had pulled on him many times, being slightly older than Steve was, and now Steve was using it against him.
Before they could get back to their argument, Adelaide finally cut in. "You two know it's not a competition, right?" she asked, looking between her husbands. They both scoffed.
"Everything’s a competition. That way, I can tell everyone I love you more than he does, I love him more than you do, and I love both of you more than either of you love me," Bucky said simply.
Where Bucky was trying to charm his way into winning, Steve used his smarts: "In that case, let's just put it to rest," he suggested. He turned from his husband to his wife. "Addie, honey, who do you love more?" Adelaide thought on it for a moment (or, rather, feigned thinking on it), looked between the two of them, sized them up thoroughly. It was an argument they'd had before, though, and one she aimed to put to rest. Both Super Soldiers got excited when she opened her mouth to speak, thinking they were about to win. They didn't know they would both lose.
"Peter." She picked her best friend over either of them. Steve and Bucky groaned loudly. "I love you both equally, morons," she lectured, "and I know you know that. But in Steve's defense, Bucky, I know you both have my back. And in Bucky's defense, Steve, you both stare at my ass." Steve did his best to defend his honor.
"It's a good ass," he argued weakly.
"It's a great ass," Bucky corrected, turning it into an argument again. Adelaide was quick to shut that down.
"It's America's ass," she corrected. Both men knew she wasn't talking about the country.
"Mmm. I think that means I win," Steve gloated. Bucky glared at him.
"Fine. You get her ass, but I get her heart as part of the tits package. Who's the real winner, now?" he taunted. Adelaide did her best not to burst into laughter that they'd just inadvertently settled the 'ass vs tits' argument in the funniest way possible.
Steve, on the other hand, let out a scandalized gasp. "That's just cheating!" he cried, jaw dropped.
"A win's a win, Rogers," Bucky smirked, gloating far more than Steve had just a moment ago. "Too bad you're such a loser." Not one to lose an argument—even if it wasn't one that she was really a part of—Adelaide figured she'd pipe in with her two cents on the situation.
"Well, I get both of your asses and both of your titses. Who's the real winner, now?" Adelaide repeated with a grin, using Bucky's words against him. She pinched both of their asses for emphasis. They both looked distraught.
"Can I at least get a cheek?!" Bucky bargained. Steve was quick to join forces with him.
"Or a pec?!"
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Summary: While babysitting his nephews, Steve accidentally teaches one of them to swear.
Warnings: mentions of pregnancy and child loss, idiots in love teasing each other, chaotic children, Steve says fuck, baby fever, Bucky mentioned but not present (I WILL write a Bucky fic eventually, I promise), just self-indulgent fluff
Word Count: 3.8k
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All images for the edit and page dividers below were taken from Pinterest. Both were made by me :) thank you to @strangergraphics for the tutorials and resources on making dividers. I highly recommend checking them out!!
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Steve was in his room, reading one of many books he'd been told to catch up on, when his phone rang. He glanced over at it, hoping it was just a spam call, arching a brow when he saw the name: Gorgeous, which was his contact name for his wife, Adelaide. Odd… he didn't think he'd hear from her until their date later that night, and she never called him, unless it was for an urgent booty call; she preferred texting and teasing him for ‘typing like a grandpa’. He figured it was probably a butt dial but picked it up anyway, just in case something was wrong. He didn't even get the chance to say hello before she started talking.
“You're good with kids, right?” she asked, sounding almost frantic. “I mean, the whole ‘Captain America kisses babies and makes videos for kids in detention’ thing applies to Steve too, right? You like kids?” It wasn't a conversation they'd had before, and both the panic in her voice and the suddenness of bringing up the topic made him uneasy. Had something happened? It would be welcomed by him if it had, but the obvious anxiety in her voice concerned him. Swallowing nervously, his worry feeding off of hers, he worked up the courage to ask.
“Honey, are you pregnant?” His voice was soft, tone somewhere between excited and scared. The short silence before her response was agonizing.
“What? No!” she scoffed, “I’m babysitting!”
That made a lot more sense. Now hearing the tiny babbles of a toddler in the background, he felt stupid for making the assumption. So much for super-hearing, he thought. When she didn't elaborate on it any further, likely because she was busy trying to contain a chaos gremlin, he took the opportunity to tease her. “Is the almighty Adelaide asking for my help? And here, I thought I distinctly remembered you saying you can always handle things on your own.”
“Steven Grant Rogers, I swear to God, I will file for divorce if you're gonna gloat,” she threatened in a stern tone. He had no trouble believing it, even though he knew she would remarry him later.
“How can I help?” he chuckled, placing a bookmark in his book and setting it down.
“Just get here as fast as you can. I am woefully outnumbered aaaaaaand I think Frankie is making a break for the kitchen.”
Thankfully, it didn't take him long to run up a couple flights of stairs and bolt toward the kitchen, scooping up a toddler mid-wobble-run to prevent him from entering the kitchen. It was babyproofed, of course, but such precautions rarely worked against determined toddlers with superpowers, especially if one of his equally devious superpowered brothers was on their way to help. Steve had arrived shortly before Adelaide did, and she was just in time to see his eyes glaze over as he walked back toward the kitchen. Frankie, the little shit, had the Talent to Charm people. Adelaide yelled both of their names in rapid succession, Frankie’s head turning slowly in a way she knew he could tell he was in trouble, Steve’s head shaking as he broke through the Charm to look back at his wife.
“Why was I-?” he asked quizzically, head still a little funny from the manipulation.
“Bastard has Charm,” Adelaide said flatly, crossing her arms and giving her nephew a disappointed look. “Luckily, he doesn’t fully know what he’s doing with it yet, so it’s not hard to break through. Especially when you can see it coming in advance.” Frankie pouted at his aunt, mirroring her crossed arms and sending her a glare from his position in Steve’s arms. It seemed that sass was definitely a genetic trait in their family. Steve couldn’t help but laugh at the sight, walking back to Adelaide with a smile.
“I see why you asked for help,” he chuckled.
“I don’t remember asking. In fact, you offered to help; I didn’t have to grovel. I don’t ask,” she insisted. Steve rolled his eyes.
He handed Frankie to Adelaide, looking behind him like he’d suddenly remembered he had a meeting to get to or something else that was more important to do. “You know, if you don’t need help, I can always leave,” he shrugged, “I’d hate to get in your way, since you clearly have everything under control.” It wasn't often he and Adelaide got into a battle of wills, but he didn't always let her win—and he was determined not to lose this one. Even if it wasn't explicit, she had asked, and he wanted her to admit it.
“Steve.” Her tone told him she definitely wasn't amused at his game, and even Frankie was now heavily side-eyeing him in disapproval.
“Just say the word, and I’ll head out, let you have some one-on-one time with the boys. I know how much you love them.”
“Steven.” There was a brief pause, but Steve didn’t let up on his stubbornness. “Remember what I said about divorcing you if you gloat? You’re getting dangerously close to gloating.” Steve broke into a smirk.
“Use your words, sweetcheeks. All you have to do is ask.” Adelaide shot him a glare that made him glad her looks couldn’t kill, but he didn’t budge.
“I would appreciate your help with the boys. Do you have an hour?” she asked, voice monotone and drier than Death Valley. Steve just smiled, the sunshine to match her storm cloud.
“For you? Always,” he hummed, giving her a peck on the cheek. Adelaide rolled her eyes, passing Frankie back to her husband like he was a biohazard instead of a kid and walking off to go check on the other two kids.
Steve had barely gotten into the room before he stepped on a Lego one of the boys had left out, hissing a sharp breath in and reflexively saying, “Ow, fuck!” on the exhale. Thanks to his days in the Army (and the shadier parts of Brooklyn, before that), Steve’s default pain word had become fuck. Usually, it wasn't a big deal; he didn't have any kids yet, and was typically better about watching his language around his nieces and nephews. He thought he was safe around these three, though, since Peia's kids were deaf like their mother and grandmother before them. The look on Adelaide’s face at the word made him think otherwise, however. Luckily, Frankie didn't seem disturbed by the outburst, immediately going and playing with his brothers the second Steve put him down on the floor.
The boys were relatively self-entertaining, leaving Steve room to chat with his wife while they babysat to make sure one of the triplets didn’t make a break for the kitchen again. “So, how’d you get stuck babysitting, anyway? Correct me if I’m wrong, but I’m pretty sure Locarian babies don’t have to go to the doctor.” He was scratching his head for another reason his in-laws would be gone with their youngest, but came up blank. Adelaide shrugged.
“They do if they’re Peter’s kid, apparently. He wants to make sure Thomas is at the right weight, and everything. Not really sure why he wants to take an immortal chaos baby in to see if they’re healthy, considering that costs actual money, but what do I know? I’m just the fun aunt; I don’t have any kids of my own,” she joked, shaking her head fondly.
Steve thought about bringing up his question from earlier about a possible pregnancy, but decided it wasn’t the right time for it. After all, he was supposed to be here for her and the boys, not for his own reasons. He did have one other question that was actually safe to ask around his nephews: “Why not ask Mel? I thought you had appointments today; did your patients know you’d be gone? I can take over, if you need to go.” Adelaide visibly softened at the question, taken by how thoughtful he was. How the hell did I ever end up with someone as good as you? she thought. He’d always been too good for her, not that she was complaining.
“I took one virtually and the other canceled. As for Mel, she and Foggy just had twins, remember? They're a little busy,” she said.
“What about Malcolm?”
“I don’t think Malcolm is safe around kids,” Adelaide laughed. Steve thought about defending his brother-in-law, then remembered the few times they’d met and realized it was probably a good idea to keep him away from small children, even if they were mostly immortal.
“Valid point.”
Overall, he was glad for the time he got to spend with the four of them. It wasn’t a side of Adelaide he got to see often, and he wondered if she even realized just how maternal she naturally was. Despite being on her way to becoming a children’s therapist (which was a career decision that had shocked everyone at the Tower, including Steve, when it happened), she always claimed she wasn’t good with kids. Seeing her interact with them, however, he couldn’t agree less. In a strange way, it made sense: long before he’d seen her around a kid, he’d come to know that she was fiercely protective, funny, imaginative; all traits she’d need to be a good aunt, therapist, or mother. It was just that he’d never seen it all come together quite the way he saw it now.
It made him realize something a bit terrifying: he wanted kids with her. Desperately.
It wasn’t a reality he thought he’d get to have. Before becoming a Super Soldier, he was pretty convinced he’d die before he was 30, let alone be healthy enough to impregnate anyone. After the serum, he figured he would be another casualty of war—and for a while, when he was stuck in the ice, he kind of was. Then, he came back to a world that wasn’t his, and he was far too disoriented or busy to entertain any kind of relationship outside of the chain of command. He was a soldier again, and sank right back into the mindset that he wouldn’t live to settle down because he couldn’t stop until the world was a better place.
Meeting Adelaide had thrown a wrench in his plans. Nothing about them had been intentional, nor had it been easy. He wasn’t convinced it would ever have a happy ending, with the way they started. In the beginning, they bickered all the time, until one of their arguments ended in clothes being shed and tempers being used for something other than an explosive feud. Poor Steve had been having a hard time wrapping his mind around friends with benefits, and then landed himself in a fwb situation with a person he wasn’t even really friends with. Then, he went and fell in love with her, and made the whole thing a mess. He couldn’t tell her, because he knew she wasn’t looking for a romance, but he also couldn’t find the willpower to leave like he said he would if he caught feelings for her.
About the only good thing to come out of the Avengers’ Civil War was their time apart. It seems counterintuitive—time apart should have made things even blurrier and more complicated—but they needed it. It was a long and painful two years for the both of them, but they each came to their own crucial realizations: for Steve, he realized he really did love her, and that wasn’t something that would go away anytime soon; for Adelaide, she finally realized she cared more about him than she ‘should’, more than she wanted to.
It took them less than a week to get together after he moved back into the Tower—this time, as an actual couple rather than just friends with benefits—and they’d been together ever since. Even though it hadn’t been very long, Steve had a hard time remembering life being any other way since coming out of the ice. In his mind, his life was divided into three major eras: the era of Bucky, the era of Adelaide, and his current era of both. The first two had been so clouded in doubt that he couldn’t see a future, and this new era was so new that he hadn’t had the chance to ask.
Maybe now, he would.
Just not before things got hectic with his nephews again. As per apparently usual, it was Frankie who broke away and tried to run off to do God knows what. Of course, Steve and Adelaide hadn't been fully paying attention to whatever plan he'd been discussing back and forth with his twins in sign language. Whatever it was, knowing Frankie’s track record, it couldn't have been good—especially if he was the one making a run for it. For lesser things, he usually sent one of his brothers minions to do it for him so he wouldn't get in trouble again. Both Steve and Adelaide got up to chase him if he was off somewhere he didn't need to be, prepared to dart in either direction to maximize their chances of catching him. Before he could get very far, however, he stubbed his toe on the table. Like his uncle had done a minute before, Frankie inhaled sharply, letting out an adorable little “Ow, fuck!” when he breathed out.
The room went silent immediately.
Adelaide’s head turned slowly, like something out of a horror movie, looking at him like he'd just unleashed an army of demons upon them. “Oh, my God,” she started, “You taught my nephew the F word!” She looked mortified, as if he'd handed Frankie a nuclear bomb instead of taught him to cuss.
“I thought Peia’s kids were deaf?” Steve asked, trying to defend himself. He knew it was a moot point, though; he should have known better, given the way Adelaide had called Frankie’s name earlier to stop him from influencing Steve. The way she looked at him when he cussed was another thing that should've tipped him off. It was a poor excuse. He added another: “I didn't mean to-! I hurt my foot. Have you ever stepped on a Lego? Those things are made of pure hatred!”
Adelaide sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose in annoyance. I shoulda just womanned up and done this on my own. I'm never gonna live this down, she thought. “Benjamin and Harry are, but Frankie is hearing,” she explained, “and you taught him how to say fuck! I am never gonna live this down. They're gonna be so mad at me—” Her eyes widened at the thought, clearly mortified that she may upset her sister or Peter. Steve was quick to slip into damage control mode.
“Just tell them it's my fault and let them be mad at me; I’m the one who said it,” he offered calmly, like it was obvious. He didn't see what the big deal was.
“Oh, because you think they'll believe that Captain America taught their two year old to curse?” she scoffed, voice dripping with sarcasm. “Peter was so surprised the first time you cussed in front of him that I thought he would pass out. You're like a saint to them.”
“Would it help if I dropped an f-bomb in front of them so they can see that I'm not?”
“Honestly, they'd probably just die from the shock,” she joked. That got a laugh from Steve, though he was still stressed about the situation. He didn't want his wife getting blamed for something she didn't do.
“I’ll figure out how to make them believe me,” he promised, holding her hands in his. “It is my fault, after all.”
“You sure you really wanna know what the underside of that bus looks like? There's no going back, and I've got quite the throwing arm,” she chuckled. For as much as he wanted to take care of her, the feeling went both ways. She didn't want to give him extra drama to deal with if she could spare him.
“Do your worst, doll,” Steve hummed. Adelaide slipped her hands out of his, holding them up in defense.
“Don't say I didn't warn you.”
When his in-laws got back, true to his word, Steve took the initiative and told them what had happened with Frankie. He thought that Adelaide had just been kidding when she talked about throwing him under the bus, not expecting there to be anything serious to come from his confession, but he got to witness Peia’s rage for the first time in his life. Initially, she’d turned her anger to Adelaide, not believing Steve would ever have cussed around a child. Adelaide was adamant that it wasn't her who gave Frankie a new addition to his vocabulary, and Peia was surprisingly quick in aiming her anger at Steve. Peter, on the other hand, seemed like he would take some convincing.
In the seven years he’d known her, Steve had never once seen his sister-in-law get mad. Frankly, by this point, he didn't think it was possible; maybe she was just some kind of highly-evolved creature who couldn't feel wrath. He'd seen her annoyed, miffed, and maybe even frustrated, but never angry. Until now, that was. This, however, was mad, and Adelaide made no efforts to spare her husband from the lecture her sister unleashed on him. She got about two sentences in before she was so angry that she switched from English to her native French, making Steve glad he didn't need a translator because she was speaking about 250 words per minute. He struggled to catch it all, thanking the Serum for the boost to his thinking speed and comprehension.
Surprisingly enough, Adelaide and Peter just let her ramble, lecturing Steve on how he needed to be careful around children, that they picked things up so easily, that bad habits were hard to break, that she didn't want Thomas’ first word to be a swear word because Steve had taught Frankie to cuss. The whole thing felt ridiculous, with the level of anger she had, but he didn't dare to say that because he liked keeping his head attached to his shoulders. He supposed it was a righteous anger, anyway, for a mother to be concerned about the purity of her child. A minute or two into her lecture, he found he had a hard time not laughing at it all. Looking at Peter, he could tell he wasn't alone in that ordeal.
There was a moment of silence after Peia had finished her rambling lecture before Peter decided to speak up. “Thomas’ first word isn't gonna be the f word,” he assured her gently. Steve had to bite his cheeks to keep from laughing at the way Peia’s expression so quickly melted from anger to puppy eyes.
“Are you sure?” she asked gently. She was nervous, truly (and very deeply, it seemed) concerned about the situation.
“I promise. I… may have accidentally taught Frankie a couple words, myself,” Peter admitted, his cheeks going beet red. A flash of Peia’s internal fire showed in her eyes, but he kept going before she could launch into lecture mode again. “He does really well if you just tell him you're sorry, that it's a bad word, and that he can't say it again. He's a smart kid, angel, and he—usually—wants to be good. All we have to do is talk to him about it.”
True to his word, talking to Frankie went over way better than either Stone sister or Steve had expected. He listened intently to what his dad and uncle had to say, seeming to grasp even as a two year old that some words were considered ‘bad’ or ‘adult’, and he wouldn't be allowed to say them until he was older and he could understand the context and potential consequences of using words like that. It was a much simpler resolution than Steve had been expecting, though he was incredibly glad it went over so well. More importantly than his own feelings, Peia seemed okay with the way it resolved, no longer angry at her brother-in-law. Everyone was happy with the end results. With that debacle over, Adelaide and Steve left the other couple to their kids, letting them get the family time that was so precious to them.
Almost as soon as they were out of earshot, however, Adelaide turned her attention to her husband to call him out on something she'd been thinking about since it happened. “When you asked if I was pregnant earlier, were you hoping I would say yes?” she asked, the look on her face hard to read. Steve’s nose scrunched, embarrassed. He'd been hoping she hadn't caught onto that earlier, so he could bring it up in a better way.
“Would I be a terrible person if I was?” he asked, unsure of how she'd answer. They had never talked about it before. He knew it was a sensitive subject, though, as Adelaide had had and lost a child with Bucky before Steve had come back to the Tower. That was the main reason he'd never asked, never pushed, never been brave enough to even bring it up. Adelaide, on the other hand, didn't shy away from it.
“You do realize we'd end up with hellions like those three, right?” she chuckled. But it wasn't not a no.
“You would think that would stop me from wanting to get you pregnant, but it really doesn't,” he sighed. If anything, his feelings had only gotten stronger now that he’d spent time babysitting with her.
“So the Super Soldier wants to be a Super Dad, hmm?” Adelaide teased, a grin spreading onto her lips.
“God, you have no idea.” Steve hit her with the best puppy eyes he could manage, effectively begging her to let the notion become a reality.
“You better watch your language, if you want it so badly. If anyone’s teaching our baby to say fuck, it'll be me,” she said matter-of-factly. Steve's brows raised in surprise at how serious she sounded. There hadn't been an ounce of teasing in her tone.
“Our baby?” he asked, excited. “Is that an invitation?”
“Well, it is date night tonight. You're welcome to try shooting your shot.” At that, he laughed.
“That is a very dangerous offer to make. Because I won't stop until you're knocked up for sure. And it'll be a few days until we know. Maybe even a few weeks,” he explained. Adelaide remained unflinching at the prospect.
“Best get working on it, then, Hotpants!” she said, slapping his ass in a command to get him to move. Steve was more than happy to obey.
“Yes, ma’am!” he grinned, then he picked her up bridal style to carry her to their bedroom, already making a list of potential baby names in his mind.
I can't believe how long I had this sitting in my drafts 90% finished and just... didn't finish it. But it's here now! The year of fic continues 💪💪 LET'S GET SHIT DONE!!!
I've now gotten into both making Pinterest boards and collages/dividers... this may end up being a disastrous choice even though they're not that good yet LMAO
Everything taglist: @inkandinkwells | @totallynotqueer | @lizardman18 | @wolfsmom1 | @cuelokiMarvel taglist: @trickstarblrSteve taglist: currently empty (the two people I have on it are already on broader taglists lol) but figured I'd drop the link in case anyone wanted to join!
Thank you @cueloki for the tag and never mind that I'm getting this in three minutes before midnight 💀
From my day 22 flufftober ("polar opposites") draft <3 it's a significantly different format from my normal writing but I kinda vibe with it, lemme know what you think
Steve, whose primary sense is touch, whose body longs to press against hers, whose lips beg to grace her skin, whose hands are constantly reaching, whose very soul seeks to entangle in hers.
Adelaide, who shirks away from the contact, for whom touch feels like fire, who melts under any soft caress, who liquifies with the way he holds her like she means something.
Steve, who instinctively holds on to his lover at night to protect her, to shield her from the world, to be close, to show love.
Adelaide, whose every conscious cell screams to push him away to keep him from seeing her, from loving her, from letting her love him.
Steve, whose kiss is slow and light and experimental, who’s terrified to push her away, who’s content with what he can get, even when it isn't much.
Adelaide, who meets his lips with fervor, whose kiss is deep and hungry and frantic, who’s unafraid to take what she wants, who wastes no time drowning them in each other’s taste.
Adelaide, who didn't recognize love until years after she felt it for her soulmate.
Steve, who knew he loved her long before his mind could catch up with his heart.
Steve, who fell so easy and quick and effortlessly, who accepted his feelings and fate, who let himself love her despite the complications it might bring.
Adelaide, who had to be dragged into love, who went kicking at fighting, who was terrified of what she felt and who she felt it for, who tried so hard not to give in.
Steve, whose worst nightmare is waking up alone again, who’s terrified to lose her, who can't bear the thought of a world without her in it now that he's experienced her love.
Adelaide, to whom love is petrifying, who’s scared shitless to let him in, who worries she’ll come to love him just to lose him, who can't imagine a world where someone loves her as much as he does.
Steve, for whom love came fully and immediately, crashing into him like a tsunami, from the moment her lips met his.
Adelaide, for whom love came slowly and cynically, dripping like the world's slowest coffee pot, after months of being around him.
Steve, who would die for her in a heartbeat.
Adelaide, who would kill for him without hesitation.
