imperfectsoldier-archive

[imperfectsoldier-archive]

michelle-x-jones‌:  

Sometimes Michelle forgot Steve was such a cool dude, and then he opened his mouth and it was like ‘oh yeah! Nice!’ He wasn’t even mad. AND! He was offering hot chocolate. Steve Rogers was truly a gift. But she wasn’t going to say this. She had to keep the few cool folks in this town humble, or else it would ruin the whole thing. Instead, Michelle went with a quick “yeah, okay,” before racing up the stairs to collect a towel. She tried her best to soak up the excess water from her shirt, the ‘future is female’ script now wrinkled and clinging to her skin. She tied the soaked curls up in a half-assed bun before running back down the stairs. “For the record. I have a ride.” It was a bike and it was great, it took her where she needed to go without killing the planet. Double win. “But it’s fucked up right now. And I wasn’t going to make you guys drive the van just because it was raining. That’s dumb.”

Steve wordlessly slid a cup of hot chocolate over to MJ before returning to his work - brushing gold leaf over marzipan roses for their most recent exorbitant wedding cake request. There was something calming about the process. And, not that he’d ever admit it, but Steve always liked to end the day with his hands covered in gold leaf. It looked so pretty and whimsical. “I’ve got the dough for pumpkin chocolate chip cookies cooling in the walk in - can you bring it out and prep it for the oven? And it’s not stupid, you could catch a cold,” Steve said mildly, a slight frown curving his mouth. Maybe he could look into adding a bus pass to MJ’s salary - at least for the rainier months of the year. “What happened to your bike?”

[imperfectsoldier-archive]

A L T

L - If I have siblings.

none and it was a good thing bc steve was enough of a handful on his own

T - 3 things I love unconditionally.

cake, political freedom, & bucky

[imperfectsoldier-archive]

C A K E

y’all think you’re slick 😂

[imperfectsoldier-archive]

C, A, K, E

C - How long it’s been since I’ve kissed.

just over two months but if someone asks him directly he makes a vague hand-wavey gesture and awkwardly changes the subject to women’s basketball

A - If I’m in love.

with his all his friends and his job, yes? with another human………………maybe… Almost

K - What my full name is.

Steven Grant Rogers

E - How many piercings I have.

it’s closed up now but one spring break he got super drunk (shoutout to bucky) and he got his bellybutton pierced…. peggy laughed for a full hour

[imperfectsoldier-archive]

BRUTAL HONESTY HOUR.

zhelaniye-forplums:

arcanum-exo:

A - If I’m in love.

B - Who the last person I talked to on the phone was.

C - How long it’s been since I’ve kissed.

D - If I have a preference for boys or girls.

E - How many piercings I have.

F - Give me any options, like ‘hot or cold?’

G - The last person I said ‘I love you’ to.

H - The last person I hugged.

I - The last time I felt jealous, and why.

J - Are you insecure. What about?

K - What my full name is.

L - If I have siblings.

M - If I forgive betrayal.

N - Favourite animal?

O - Where would I like to travel

P - What kind of music I like.

Q - Favourite flower?

R - Is cheating ever okay?

S - 2 habits.

T - 3 things I love unconditionally.

U - Favourite time of year, and why

V - Big dreams?

W - If I’ve done something I regret very much.

X - 3 turn ons

Y - 3 turns offs

Z - Ask any question you want.

<33

May - You can hover on her icon for the askbox

Nick - @motherfu-ry

Jen - @lawyer-jennifer-walters

Peggy - @peggys-value

Nat - @blackwidcwsbite

[imperfectsoldier-archive]

blackwidcwsbite‌:   

“If your smile gets any smugger, I’m going to be forced to roundhouse kick it clean off your face. Just forewarning you because we’re, y'know, the best of buddies,” she said while flashing an adorable grin. Nat let out a too loud laugh, her fingers pressed against her lips to try and hold back the leftover giggles at the very sensitive subject she’d just breached. “Okay, okay. I’m sorry I brought up your abnormally narrow waist in your time of need, it probably won’t happen again. First of all, don’t you dare touch my red velvet, Steven and second of all, you have a deal.” Nat paused for half a beat (less, even) but it was still long enough for the thought to pass through her mind. About him. She pushed past it. “It’ll be fun, you can tell me about all your bakery scandals.”

Nat looked thoughtful before answering him. “Want you there? Maybe not but does he expect you to be there? Absolutely. So, it’s settled.”

Steve always felt a little prickle of fear when he was around Natasha, but he figured that was a pretty natural reaction to a woman with such a strong I Will Kill You Without Hesitating energy. “Yeah, right, Romanoff. You’re way too smart to kick the face that feeds you.” To anyone else, the pause would be indistinguishable, a simple lull in the conversation. Steve, however, was well-versed in the manny mannerisms of Natalia Romanoff, and saw it for what it was. He shifted the bags into one arm and reached down to give her hand a quick squeeze. “You joke, but we live exciting lives here. I punched Brock Rumlow in the face and he tried to press assault charges. Someone threw their latte at Wanda and she almost killed them. Possibly the most shocking of all, we changed our Instagram handle.”

“...Fine.” Steve conceded, putting concerted effort into holding back a pout. “But I’m grossly overcharging him. And writing something really mean on the receipt.”

[imperfectsoldier-archive]

peggys-value‌:  

“Oh Steve, darling, we really must get you on the internet sometime. It’ll change your life.”

“You might have to extend this to dinner if you want me to explain what vines are to you given that they’re really not supposed to be explained per say. It’s a whole thing,” she waved a hand for added emphasis before laughing. “You’re ridiculous but thank you,” and then as an afterthought she asked, “Did I see that Nat was back in town or has the rumour mill around here dried up on false information?”

“My life is fine as is, thank you kindly, counsellor.”

“You’re so nosy,” Steve teased, taking a thoughtful bite of his sandwich just to draw out the suspense. He tore open a bag of Sea Salt & Vinegar Kettle chips, wordlessly offering them to Peggy. “Nat is back in town, Nick’s birthday is coming up. Neither her nor Bucky want to talk about it, so I’m trying to leave it alone. Scheduling time for them both, separately, is an absolute nightmare. I need a google calendar to keep it all straight.”

[imperfectsoldier-archive]

michelle-x-jones‌:   

She was late, which sucks because there are many things Michelle Jones hates in this world, but tardiness made the top 5. Easily. Now she was the one who was late. And her misfortune didn’t stop there, because that would’ve just been too easy. Oh no. Michelle was late and she was soaked, converse squishing against the pavement as she ran with her jacket over her head, as if somehow that would stop the torrential downpour from drenching her clothes. Spoiler alert, it didn’t. It was only when she stepped into the bakery, shivering and late for her shift by a whopping 7 minutes, that Michelle finally lowered her jacket. She frowned up at her boss, not offering an apology or an excuse– just  blatantly obvious observation, “It’s raining.” 

@imperfectsoldier

Steve glanced up, smiling in acknowledgement at MJ’s arrival. He didn’t mind that she was late. She was a good enough kid that he knew she wouldn’t make a habit out of it. “It is, isn’t it? You know you can always ask for a ride, I don’t mind coming to pick you up. Or sending Wanda with the delivery van.” They’d hit a lull in the afternoon and he didn’t have any customers to service. He was mostly filling future orders. “You wanna pop upstairs and dry off? I can make you a cup of hot chocolate.”

[imperfectsoldier-archive]

spidcrsenses‌:     

It pained him that he needed to do this, if there were any other option that Peter thought he could take he would’ve done it. But leaving May in the dark was the only way he thought he could, if he ever figured everything out then he could go back to her, maybe even try to explain what he’d been going through. For now, though, he had to keep everyone from knowing what was going on, that was the only thing that made sense to him. He had to deal with this alone. He raised his eyebrows up as Steve responded, reluctantly nodding his head in agreement. “Okay, I think that’s fair. Although, I think you’re getting the bad end of the deal, you’re just making more work for yourself.” he said with a small laugh, trying to just play everything off. 

“Cooking’s not work, Peter,” Steve shrugged, brushing his concern off with a dismissive wave. He pushed up off the couch, resolving to swing by the hallway closet and grab a few linens to turn his couch into a bed. He spared a glance over his shoulder. Peter still looked so small, frail, scared. Once again, Steve was struck with this sense of helplessness, wishing there was something more he could do. “I... I know I don’t understand everything about your situation, but I do know that everything will work itself out. Bright kid like you - how could it not.”

[imperfectsoldier-archive]

motherfu-ry‌:  

“I swear if I see one more person toss their trash all over the place, I’m gonna have to bring out some mother-earth type vengeance. I’ll shut this whole town if I have too. Pick up your trash, people!”

“All the bakery coffee cups are biodegradable. If only that was a city-wide practice. If only we knew someone in local government who could help push through a measure banning disposable plastic products.”

“Darn shame.”

[imperfectsoldier-archive]

peggys-value‌:  

“I don’t suppose you could answer a quick question for me, could you?” But of course she carried on to ask anyway. “In your experience, what turns the brain from work mode to non-work mode faster: kitten videos or ‘vines that cared for me when no one else did’?

“Vines?” Steve asked, eyebrows knitting in confusion. “Like... the plant? I don’t understand.”

“But I brought you lunch, so explain it to me over cheese and pickle sandwiches. The recipe says they’re supposed to really posh. Just like you.”

[imperfectsoldier-archive]

blackwidcwsbite‌:  

“Eleven different kinds?” The gasp she added was too genuine to be passed off as the usual well-meaning sarcasm. Damn Steve Rogers and his uncanny ability to know just the dessert to win your heart; the real reason they were friends she’d often joke. A grin flashed across her face at his question, holding back a telltale laugh. “Well, if I am throwing a party, your eleven different kinds of red velvet with definitely have to be there.” Nat fell into step with him, nudging him with her arm before adding, “Are you wearing extra small shirts again to look beefier?”

“Anyway, of course I’m inviting you. I just don’t know how happy you’re going to be about being there,” because of course he would be there. Nat caught his eye, unable to fight off her smile any longer. “It’s for Nick’s birthday.”

Steve smiled far too smugly at the genuine excitement in Natasha’s voice. Yeah, he was the best platonic husband ever. “Mhm.” Steve narrowed his eyes at her comment on his sartorial choices, elbowing her ribs a little in retaliation. “You know my waist is too narrow to wear a large. Maybe I should eat all your red velvet so I can fill out. Or you can come over tonight and we can binge and talk about everything I’ve missed since we last Skyped.” Bucky was coming over to watch the game at 5, but he figured that with an hour of padding between his departure time and Natasha’s arrival, everything would work out fine. ...Probably.

At the mention of Nick Fury - Steve’s mouth curled a little in distaste. It was crazy that he could love Natasha so much yet hate her surrogate father with equally extreme passion. “Are you... sure he’d even want me there?”

[imperfectsoldier-archive]

a definitive list of my favorite captain america uniforms ranked

[imperfectsoldier-archive]

spidcrsenses‌:    

As much as he would love to spend his large amount of free time hanging around in Steve’s bakery, Peter knew he couldn’t. He was sure that May still frequented the bakery and the last thing he wanted to do was to come face to face with her, having to admit why he left. He would have to tell her he still wasn’t going to come home, but he couldn’t explain why. It would tear her apart even more than this probably already was, and he didn’t want. “We both know I can’t go into the bakery Steve, but I really do appreciate the gesture. I sure have missed your baked goods, they’re truly the greatest in Deerfield. Maybe even the world.” he said with a light smile before dropping it once again as he tried to come up with the right words to say. “I.. You can’t tell May I’m here, I know you probably want to but I just.. I need you to trust me that I ran away for a reason. There’s things I can’t explain, things that I… I want to keep May from finding out. This was the only way, while I try to figure it out for myself.” he said, turning his head to look up at Steve. 

Steve’s first thought was: May Parker is literally going to kill me, and because she worked in Hollywood she probably knows a shady deep web hitman that she can commission to do it. Still, looking at the wariness on Peter’s face, remembering how his skin had looked nearly blue in the dim light of the alley, it wasn’t even a question. If Steve could do anything, any small gesture to relieve him of this enormous burden he seemed to be carrying, he would do it without hesitation. “...Alright, Peter,” Steve conceded, rubbing a little at his forehead, “Okay. No May. But you stay the whole night, then, and you let me make you breakfast tomorrow. Those are my terms.”

[imperfectsoldier-archive]

thunderous-thor‌:  

There had been a time when Thor had told himself he was going to stop this.  Not because the sex wasn’t good, or he didn’t have a fun time pushing every single one of Steve Roger’s buttons.  And it was something he only felt after the sex, lying there in Steve’s bed in his perfect little house, breathing hard and watching Steve in all of his well-fucked afterglow glory- the slight sheen of sweat, the way his usually perfect hair was finally a mess, admiring the small bruise he’d managed to put on Steve’s hip- and then he’d get a flash of it across his mind, this different life that felt so achingly real.  Steve smiling at him like they were friends, equals, “I do not jest, Steve Rogers, you have the strength and soul of a true Asgardian warrior.”  And every time it felt like being punched in the gut, taunted by his weird fucking dreams for all the things he probably should have had, but didn’t.  Fuck Steve Rogers for making him come out here over and over again when Thor knew he’d be just as fucked up afterward as he was every time.

Thor always left fairly quickly after all was said and done, it was easier that way, and honestly, after he came what the hell was he waiting around for anyway?  No one actually invited him over for his company.  That was probably why it hurt so much with Steve because a part of him wanted to stay.  Steal a little bit of Steve’s life, the stupid ass zucchini bread in the kitchen, tossing insults back and forth until they tumbled into bed.  Something more than just sex.  It was all the damn nightmares, whatever they were, Thor knew that, but it never quite stopped that ache from being real.

Or the fact that he just had to leave.  As quickly as possible.  Thor grabbed Steve not so lightly by the back of the neck and stole a few more hard, heavy kisses, hating himself for the strange, different kind of desperation in them.  But the hell of it was, that being with Steve was a taste of whatever life he wasn’t living and Thor was addicted to it, no matter how much he tried to run from it.  Like he was right now, releasing Steve and rolling out of bed, searching for his pants, already the smirk of the player asshole on his face, where it belonged.  "Not too shabby, Rogers, I keep waiting for you to lose your touch,“ Thor said as he pulled his pants on, wiggling his eyebrows at Steve and reaching over to slap one of Steve’s thighs teasingly.  "But unless you want to go for a round two, I got better shit to do.  And I wouldn’t want to wear you out too much for your big date tomorrow.”

Sometimes, after they fucked, Thor would get this far away look on his face. Steve was always blissed out - sweat cooling on the small of his back, a pleasant sort of ache in his thighs - but when he turned his head to look at Thor, there was a strange storminess to his expression. It was masked well enough that he hadn’t noticed it the first few times, but these days it seemed… more intense. He’d begun to wonder if he was doing something wrong, if they should try and talk about it, but surely Thor would just stop showing up if Steve was hurting him in some way... right?

His suspicions were only confirmed when Thor leaned in to kiss him, and there was almost something manic in the gesture. Steve knew asking ‘are you okay?’ was a one-way ticket to some snarky, jarringly offensive remark, so he kept his lips sealed as he watched Thor tug on his pants. He yelped a little at the slap to his thigh, grabbing at Thor’s hand before he could move away and using it to pull himself onto his knees. He wrapped his arms around Thor’s neck, thighs still quivering a little at the sudden effort of holding him up. “By better shit to do I hope you mean going home and sleeping. It’s Deerfield - everything closes at nine anyways.” He pressed a soft, lazy kiss against Thor’s mouth, running a soothing hand down his spine in an attempt to drain him of the tenseness suddenly animating his shoulders.

“Thanks for coming over,” Steve mumbled, the edges of him ridiculously soft in the afterglow. He traced his fingers against the smirk on Thor’s lips before kissing him one more time, a hint of finality in the gesture. “Take the rest of the zucchini bread on your way out,” Steve cut himself off with a yawn, blinking slowly as a small, sated smile tipped up the corner of his mouth.

[imperfectsoldier-archive]

wcnda-mcximoff‌:   

Wanda snorted. “Of course I’m kidding. I’m a millennial, Steve, you know we don’t vote.” She hadn’t cared about politics before she met Steve. Her parents had never bothered to teach her about the importance of voting, because voting hadn’t mattered in Sokovia. Working in the bakery had been quite the wake-up call. It also meant that she had to take the occasional selfie with Steve and his I voted! sticker. “Why does this all sound like stuff you’ve told me before? If you’re going to lecture me, at least make it an original lecture. You know I get bored.” She told him, mouth shifting sideways into a grin.

“Mhhm.” Wanda hummed flatly, waiting for the BUT to drop. Steve was predictable, definitely one of his better qualities. and he could never stay mad at Wanda over something. She’d made sure to charm him early on. Or maybe he was just a sucker. “Well, I’m very ashamed of myself, and I think I should be sent to the stockroom to consider my actions. And definitely not to play Candy Crush on my phone or anything.” She beamed at him (well, her approximation of beaming at someone, which was really just a smile using both sides of her mouth) before grabbing a handful of mints from the bowl on the counter and dropping them on the floor for the cat. Doctor Strange would probably yell at her for it, but if the cat was happy, so was she. “Yeah, you tell me that every week. That’s why my picture says employee of the month.” She pointed to the wall where her picture hung, placard reading exactly that. Never mind that she’d hung the picture herself in silent protest of Steve hiring part-time help. “It’s….literally my job.” She waved a hand between the two of them. “I’m the muscle, you’re the personality. That’s how this thing works. Unless I’ve been getting it wrong all these years,”

Steve’s mouth twitched into a brief smile, although in a strange sense, it was kind of true. He was comfortable kicking out the real assholes, but Wanda dealt with the customers who proved to be day-to-day annoyances. They didn’t do enough to warrant Steve reaming them out, but they always looked a little reprimanded at Wanda’s glares. “Yeah, yeah, I know,” he indulged, laughing a little under his breath, “But I’m serious, kiddo. I don’t pay you enough to deal with Brock. Jeff Bezos doesn’t get paid enough to deal with Brock.” 

At the mention of Wanda’s responsibilities, Steve brightened considerably. He had not-so-secretly been looking forward to today all month. “I’m not banishing you to the stockroom today, actually.” Steve started unloading ingredients from his grocery bags, an excited lilt to his voice. “I’m teaching you the art of the art of macarons. We’re making six flavors. I’ll pick three and you have to pick the other three. And they can’t all be red velvet.” Steve reached into his back pocket and supplied the little notebook he carried around, flipping it open to the most recent page. Since it was only Wanda looking over his shoulder, he didn’t bother angling it away from her or trying to conceal the doodles and scribbled out ideas. The most recent page had a little sketch of the cat in the corner. “Honey lavender, vanilla hazelnut, and orange blossom.”

[imperfectsoldier-archive]

fclconswings‌:  

Seeing Steve approach was like watching his guardian angel descend on the bakery to rescue him. Or maybe it was just because Wanda seriously resembled satan. “Hey yourself. No fires today, I see.” Sam said, making a big show of peering around like he thought there might be a fire hiding behind the counter or something. “You must be reading those fire safety flyers I gave you.” Which, in all honesty, had been Sam’s attempt to give Steve his number, but he’d chickened out of writing it on the paper at the last minute. His sister was right, he really was terrible at this.

“Oh, that’s boring, is it? You know, some of us drink coffee for the caffeine benefits, and not for the sugar content.” But he didn’t protest. Anything Steve made would undoubtedly be fantastic, so he might as well keep his mouth shut before he did anything stupid like bet a date on whether or not he liked the coffee. He’d definitely lose that bet. “Hmm, what kind of recompense are we talking here? I never say no to free food, just a suggestion.” Sam said, watching, impressed as Steve worked. He’d never been much of a cook himself, but Steve was clearly in his element here. “Better now that I’m not going to be putting boring black coffee in my system.” Sam chuckled. “How are you? Still haven’t been murdered by the scary witch girl, I see.”

“Sure have,” Steve smiled, dropping a sliver of Piloncillo into the milk and stirring. “Been educating, preparing, and preventing with the best of ‘em.” The not-so-secret romantic part of Steve had been hoping that ‘dropping off the fire safety flyers’ had actually been Sam making some excuse to see him again, that he was gonna get asked on a date, but that hadn’t happened. As it turned out, Sam was just really and genuinely passionate about fire safety. It had only made him more dreamy. “Plus, Wanda’s not allowed to make anything that might end in a grease fire. I don’t think our prior incidents were entirely accidental.”

He pulled the cinnamon stick out of the milk and popped it in the trash, stirring again. “Oh, well,” he started, heart suddenly beating a little louder in his chest. “Tell you what, Wilson. If you really, really hate this latte...” Steve poured the sweetened milk into the to go cup, watching the coffee swirl into a lighter shade. He popped on a lid and slid it across the counter, a faint blush staining his cheeks. “...then I’ll make you dinner, Friday night. Five courses. Whatever you want for dessert.” Steve knew the latte was good - the latte had its own magazine cover, for God’s sake - but he thought may he’d give Sam a really easy out. He could let Steve down and remain a perfect gentleman, if that’s what he wanted. “So. What do you think?”