#steve rogers self-insert

[mintyys-blog]

NEEDLES AND NUMBNESS— avengers x reader

WARNINGS: self harm (in the form of piercings and tattoos), denial.

You always had an excuse.

“It’s just for aesthetics,” you’d say when someone questioned the fresh silver glint on your ear, your nose, or even your eyebrow.

“It’s a hobby,” you’d insist when Natasha caught you in the common room, disinfecting a sewing needle with a lighter.

“It makes me feel better,” you whispered once, but only to yourself.

And at first, it was just aesthetics. You liked how piercings looked, how they made you feel like you had control over your own body. But then, somewhere along the way, it became something else. A sharper kind of control. A more dangerous kind of release.

The moment the needle pressed against your skin, there was a pause—a deep breath—before the sharp sting sliced through the numbness you’d been drowning in. The pain reminded you that you were real. That you were here.

At first, the team didn’t notice. After all, you were an adult. If you wanted to poke holes in your body, that was your choice. But then the piercings became too frequent. Too reckless.

You stopped waiting for them to heal properly before making new ones. Your skin was always irritated, raw, and sometimes bruised in places you couldn’t explain away.

Bucky noticed first.

“You ever heard of a piercing gun, doll?�� He had tried to joke one evening, nodding toward the butterfly earrings you had forced through your own cartilage. The skin around them was red, swollen. It had to hurt. “Well, actually piercing guns do more damage then a regular needle.. besides,”

You shrugged. “Where’s the fun in that?”

He frowned. He’d seen habits like this before—in people who needed pain more than they cared for decoration. But he didn’t push. Not yet.

Then Natasha started keeping an eye on you. She wasn’t as subtle. When she found a half-used piercing needle on the bathroom sink, she didn’t hide her concern.

“You’re not sterilizing them right,” she said, holding it up like evidence. “This could get infected.”

“It won’t,” you replied automatically. “I know what I’m doing.”

“You sure about that?” Her voice was quiet, sharp.

You turned away.

Then there was Peter. Sweet, observant Peter, who always noticed when something was off even if he didn’t understand why.

“Hey, um…” he rubbed the back of his neck one day, shifting on his feet. “Are you, like… okay?”

You raised an eyebrow. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

His eyes flickered to your hands. You were rolling a fresh piercing needle between your fingers, like a nervous tic.

“You just…” He hesitated. “You’ve been doing a lot of these lately.”

“So?”

“So… it’s just… it kinda seems like you’re hurting yourself.” He bit his lip, clearly afraid of overstepping. “I mean, not that piercings are bad! But like… I dunno, Tony says you barely let them heal before you do another. And Nat said some of them got infected. And I just—” He exhaled. “Are you okay?”

You laughed. A forced, brittle sound. “Obviously.”

But you weren’t.

And they knew it.

A few days later, you strolled into the common room, a smug grin on your face. The team was scattered across the space—Natasha and Bucky on the couch, Tony nursing a drink, Peter scrolling on his phone, and Steve watching the news with a furrowed brow.

“Check this out,” you announced, lifting the hem of your shirt just enough to reveal your new belly button piercing. A small, silver barbell glinted under the light, the skin around it still slightly red.

Peter blinked. “Wait, another one?”

You grinned. “Oh, that’s not all.”

Turning around, you tugged your shirt up further, exposing the small, symmetrical dermal piercings on your lower back. Tiny gems sat embedded in your skin, catching the light just right. “They’ll take a while to heal but aren’t they pretty?”

Natasha’s expression darkened instantly. “Y/N.”

“What?” You feigned innocence, letting your shirt drop. “I went to a professional this time. Happy?”

“You paid someone to stab you instead of doing it yourself,” Tony said dryly. “Huge improvement.”

Steve sighed, rubbing his temples. “Y/N, we just had this conversation.”

“It’s different now,” you argued. “I’m not doing them at home anymore. It’s just body modding—nothing wrong with that.”

Bucky narrowed his eyes. “But why so many, so fast?”

You hesitated.

“You really want an answer?” You scoffed. “Because I like it. Because it makes me feel good. Because for five minutes, I actually feel something.”

The room fell silent.

Peter looked away. Natasha exhaled through her nose, clearly trying to hold back whatever she really wanted to say.

Bucky, though, just watched you, his jaw tight.

“Y/N,” he said carefully, “that’s not as different as you think.”

You crossed your arms. “Yeah? Well, it’s my body.”

“And we’re your family,” Natasha shot back, standing up. “And we’re worried.”

You swallowed hard.

You didn’t want to hear this.

Didn’t want them to be right.

Didn’t want to stop.

So you forced a smile. “Relax, guys. I’m done now.”

A lie.

A perfect, believable, practiced lie.

You turned on your heel before anyone could argue, ignoring the way Bucky and Natasha exchanged glances behind you.

Stopping was easy.

For a while.

Days passed, then weeks, and you didn’t touch a piercing needle. The team watched you closely, but they seemed satisfied with your promise.

But the itch remained. That deep, hollow ache for something.

And then, one day, as you walked past a tattoo parlor, it hit you.

You stepped inside without thinking. The buzzing of the machines filled your ears, and your fingers twitched at the sound.

“You got an appointment?” the artist asked.

You hesitated.

“No,” you admitted. “But I need one.”

The first tattoo was small. Just a little design on your wrist. The pain was different from piercing—deeper, slower. But it worked. It grounded you.

Then came another. And another.

Soon, the team started noticing again.

“That’s new,” Natasha said one evening, nodding toward the fresh ink on your arm.

You shrugged. “Tattoos are cool.”

She frowned but didn’t press.

Bucky, though? He wasn’t so easily fooled.

“This isn’t about the tattoos, is it?” he asked one night, catching you as you traced a fresh design, skin still swollen and raw.

You looked away.

“It’s just a hobby,” you said.

His jaw tightened. “That’s what you said about the piercings.”

You forced a smile. “At least this one’s permanent.”

His expression darkened, but you walked away before he could say more.

Because this wasn’t self-harm.

It wasn’t.

It was just another hobby.

Right?

…Right?

Piercings and tattoos are a form of self-expression, but when done excessively, recklessly, or for the pain rather than the art, they can become self-harm. If someone is piercing themselves unsafely, ignoring aftercare, or compulsively getting modifications for the sensation rather than the aesthetic, it may be a sign of a deeper struggle.

Body modifications can be addictive—the sting of the needle, the rush of adrenaline, and the sense of control can create a cycle that’s hard to break. If you’re seeking pain more than the art, feeling restless without new modifications, or using them to cope with emotional distress, it might be time to reassess.

Loving tattoos and piercings is okay, but they should be about self-expression, not self-destruction. If you’re struggling, know that you’re not alone, and there are healthier ways to cope. Seeking help doesn’t mean giving up body mods—it means making sure they truly serve you, not harm you.

[spidney]

Changed Times, Old-Fashioned Love

(a masterlist, 233k words)

After SHIELD falls and the disaster HYDRA leaves in its wake, you, a reformed STRIKE agent, decide to make amends and help Bucky in his recovery by offering him friendship and a semblance of normalcy at the Avengers Tower. It lasts a while, both you and Bucky officially join the team and when Ultron is created with the intent to destroy you, you are forced to lay low at Clint’s house. There, the match is struck between you and Bucky. Something awakens within you, something you had pushed in the far corner of your mind as it also stirs low within Bucky, something he thought was impossible after living an insufferable long life. And yet, you happen to him when he least excepts it. The series follows the events of the MCU’s storyline with some modifications along the way. This is a tale of love and loss. Who says being happy is a simple task? Having what you want requires sacrifices, blood and tears, but you would do it all again because there’s nothing that could ever be in yours and Bucky’s way no matter big or small the threat.

• Part.1: Show Me Your Love (Before The World Catches Up)

After the events of Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Bucky takes the time to remember and to heal by Steve's side instead of disappearing. Later, he joins the Avengers. You are also part of the team and after a mission has gone awry, Ultron still in the wind, the team is forced to lay low at Clint's house. There, you discover a different Bucky, he is more open, less intimidating and you don't know who decided to let their guards down first.

• Part.2: Raise Me High And I'll Make You Fly

True to your last conversation at Clint's house, Bucky and you have decided to move on from your life as Avengers to build a peaceful, quiet life together. You even get to adopt a cheeky white cat that seems to only have eyes for Bucky.

After a year of living in the European countryside, everything falls apart when Steve shows up loaded with bad news.

The start of a chaotic journey to prove both yours and Bucky's innocence shatters some friendships along the way. But Bucky and you are stronger together and you won't let anyone interfering between the two of you, whatever the cost may be.

• Part.3: Your Name Tastes Like Ashes On My Lips

Accepting T'Challa's offer, you get a second chance at a peaceful life with Bucky. Wakanda treats you nicely; you get a place to yourselves, a farm... and goats. Bucky, Alpine and you readjust to a normal life as you witness Bucky having to learn how to be himself again minus his left arm. This particular inconvenience will spice things up in some terrible yet hilarious ways on the daily.

Picking up where you left off with your relationship with Bucky, you see it grow and new exciting things will bloom between the two of you as months pass.

But the Earth now left unsupervised and defenseless since the disaster of the Sokovia Accords, The Avengers scattered around the globe, the inevitable threat of a stronger opponent will make its appearance. And maybe this time, there will be no endings where any of you come out on top.

• Part.4: Light Years Away

With Bucky gone, you learn how to live on your own again and how to navigate the different stages of grief. Five years is a long time but you never once stopped loving him.

• Part.5: Something Blue

Some stories lie in the crevices of what’s dwelling dormant between good and bad. This grey area where neutrality takes place. Some wrong decisions made by good people. Some right decisions made by bad people.

It can be all subjective and life did have a tendency to kick you while you were already down, after all. Where do you go from there, do you keep going or do you give up? It’s how you face those challenges that defines who you are. So what happens when a life-changing decision is taken for you and rocks your world, reshapes who you are at your core and those around you?

How hard you wished to spiral into control just for once but whoever was playing chess with yours and Bucky’s life was definitely bad at this game.

[darkredsugarcookie]

The Tower - Bucky Barnes x Stark's Daughter

Author note: hey hunny bunnies okay so this is also going up on wattpad and it will be more cohesive there, but this is the official start to The Tower, the original fic that The Pressure of His Lips is from. Most of this is proofread by @averyjoyysworld (love you sunshine) but feel free to let me know if I missed anything!

Summary:

Money, Sex, Power. Love that's not supposed to be.

Cassandra Stark is a twenty year old up and coming model in Manhattan, New York. She's used to the spotlight- She's been in it her whole life, alongside her best friend.

Cass is the party heiress that intimidates a room just by walking in. She doesn't bond, doesn't care, doesn't love.

Until one thing leads to another and suddenly her best friend's uncle, her father's enemy, the only man she should absolutely not want is the one pulling her in. And Cassandra is left to discover that being loved right can set a lot of things straight.

Or not.

Warnings (not specifically for this part, but in general): alcohol use, mentions of past SA, violence, descriptions of wounds and blood, explicit language, unplanned pregnancy (not upon the main character), drug use, descriptions of nightmares, hints at EDs, eventual smut

Prologue

The sun cast right into my eyes, a stark reminder that I had forgotten to close the curtains the night before. It was a patch of warmth on the mound of blankets on my queen sized bed, the floor to ceiling windows always too pretty to be perfect.

My head was aching with the thrum of a hangover, my body moving like mud through the mess of deep purple and black blankets. “Jarvis, shut the blinds,” I muttered, pushing my bangs back from my face. 

I had every intention of going back to sleep when I heard “September” by Earth, Wind, and Fire start playing from the main room. 

Damn it, Peter.

My bedroom door swung open, the weight of my best friend dropping onto my mattress as she pulled the blankets from my face. “Avery?” I groaned, shoving her away. 

“I was gone for a week and this is how you react?” she said. 

I immediately sat up and pulled her into a hug. “Do not ever leave me here with these crazy people ever again,” I replied. “I almost went insane.”

“I’m sure you were fine,” she assured. “Big day.”

“What do you mean?” I said as I shoved off the blankets, retrieving a pair of sweats from the floor. My eyes hurt a little from falling asleep in my makeup. “Jarvis, open the blinds. Sorry, buddy.”

I snagged the makeup wipes from my vanity to try and get most of the makeup off as I took the iced coffee she offered me. “My uncle is moving in today, remember?”

Groaning, I rubbed my eyes. “Damn it. I forgot about that.” 

Despite the fact I practically knew him as well as I knew everyone else. Avery talked about him constantly— he bordered on being a better father than her own and she was ecstatic that he was finally coming back from the recovery program in Wakanda. 

I knew all the same things everyone else did. I knew his past, all the reasons my dad wasn’t a fan of him being here. It’d been a back and forth fight for months before he finally agreed.

“This will certainly be interesting,” I said as I walked into my bathroom to clean up. Avery followed, parking herself on the closed toilet seat. 

“You’ve met him before,” she said as I splashed warm water over my face. 

“Yeah, like two years ago,” I replied. “And for five minutes.” 

“But he was nice.”

“I thought he was hot. We didn’t speak enough for me to figure out if he’s nice or not.”

Avery rolled her eyes. “Oh, please. You guys will get along fine. He’s nothing like my dad.”

“Thank God.”

Steve Rogers was the bane of my existence. From his insistent need to demean and belittle my best friend to his constant pity party since his wife left almost ten years ago, I couldn't stand him. Natasha always told me that’s what made me most like my dad. 

“I promise not to be too mean,” I said as I dug my skincare from the cabinet. “Besides, we were like, what, eighteen the last time we saw him? When he was in town for a few days?” 

“You were eighteen,” she corrected. “I was sixteen.” Avery shoved her blonde curls back from her face. “It’ll be a good change of pace.”

“We’ll see.”

“What are you doing today?” she asked as she scrolled through her phone.

“I have a photoshoot in two hours. Wanna come?” 

  “Oh my god, yes,” she replied. “Can we get Taco Bell after?” 

“After,” I responded. “But yes. Go get ready.” 

She shot up from her seat and kissed my cheek before rushing out of the room.  I really needed to get started on planning her birthday.

By the time we got back to the tower, the sun was setting over the city and the way they’d curled my hair today was starting to bother me. Avery was at my side, helping shove the door open as my hands were full of iced coffee, my Vogue copy from the mail, my purse, and my bag of clothes. “No, please!” I begged. “I won’t keep you out forever, I just really want to go. Just a few hours!” 

“No,” Avery laughed as we walked into the foyer. “Not happening. I have an essay due tonight.”

“You’re dropping out anyway,” I said, to which she violently shushed me. I stopped and stared at her. “You haven’t told him yet.”

“I’m working on it.”

“Avery.”

“I’ll do it, okay?” She set her bag on the counter and turned back to me. 

“You really need to—” 

But she saw something over my shoulder and shoved past me, leaving me to follow her with my eyes in confusion. 

I set down my things, blowing out a breath as I saw her run right into his arms. 

Or… maybe? No, there’s no way that’s him. 

“Cassandra, there you are,” Dad said, waving me over. “Come be polite.” “I’m your daughter, manners aren’t exactly my thing.”

He rolled his eyes. “That’s—”

“It’s fine, Stark,” Bucky said, giving his niece another squeeze around the shoulders. “I remember her. Cassandra, right?”

I nodded, but I was a little focused on the fact that he was significantly… bigger than when I last saw him. His hair was a little longer, reaching past his chin, but those blue eyes hadn’t changed. “Cass,” I corrected. “I only get called Cassandra when I’m in trouble.”

A small smile pulled at his lips. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“You’ll be upstairs,” Dad said. “Steve’s room is up there too. Spoiled bastard.”

Avery snorted. “He prefers the ‘space,’” she said, rolling her eyes. 

“Go easy on your old man, bug,” Bucky said, nudging her shoulder. 

A small laugh escaped me at the irony of that statement. When he looked up at me, a quizzical look on his face, I just said, “You’ll see. I’m going out.”

“Cass—” Avery started. 

“Offer is still open, sunshine,” I said as I backed away. I shoved my wine red hair from my face, turning around to grab my things. I glanced back at the man standing in the middle of everyone. If I could… 

No. Pull it together. “It’s good to have a new face around here,” I said. 

His eyes glanced over me before he nodded. “Thanks.” 

By the time I got to my car, my phone chimed with a text from Avery. 

Avery <3: I love you, but I know that look. 

Me: What look?

Avery <3: Your “I’m gonna eat him alive” look.

Me: I am not. Too much risk for an unlikely reward.

Me: You coming or not?

Avery <3: omw

[manidk1273]

🎀 — STUCKYWIDOW

Stuckywindow(Steve Rogers, James 'Bucky' Barnes, and Natasha Romanoff) Child content:)

FYI: THIS ISNT RELATED TO ANY POLITICS.

STUCKYWIDOW • Who has a son, somehow managing to have all their DNA's together, when the husbands asked Tony about it he examined the situation and it's something to do with the supersoldier serum.

STUCKYWIDOW • Where Natasha always shoves it in her husband's face, especially Steve's that their son knows more Russian than English. (he's 2 and has absolutely no idea what the translation of water in English is.)

STUCKYWIDOW • Where their son is so incredibly strong at just the age of 6 months old because of his dad's that he once broke Peter's finger with his grip. (The baby thought it was a game)

STUCKYWIDOW • Where their child is naturally stealthy, agile and fast that when you take one second off of them, they're suddenly across the house.

STUCKYWIDOW • Where Natasha's husbands were forced to learn Russian cause of their kid.

STUCKYWIDOW • Where Steve went through the five stages of grief knowing his kid prefers Russian over America (🦅🦅🦅🔫🔫🔫🇺🇸 RAHHH)

STUCKYWIDOW • Where the kid, who just started kindergarten gets treated differently because of his accent, and because he can't properly speak English. Even most of the teachers don't like him cause they think of him as a communist:(.

STUCKYWIDOW • Where Steve doesn't take any of their bullshit and gives the parents, teachers, staff members a reality check that just because his son is Russian doesn't mean he's automatically a communist.

STUCKYWINDOW • Where Natasha always finds her boys getting into trouble. Whether it be her husbands teaching their 4 year old son to handle a gun(mostly Bucky's idea) or her son accidentally sinking his dad's mental arm into the bottom of the deep pool.

STUCKYWIDOW • Where their son is honestly so fearless (a dare devil) that he started breaking bones at the age of 2.

STUCKYWIDOW THAT NO MATTER WHAT HAPPENS THEY'LL ALWAYS LOVE THEIR BABY BOY<3

[strawberry-cake-roll]

Some doodles!! :3

[heyitsme1040]

Broken Radiators & Movies [s.r]

summary : Reader is a nurse living in an apartment from the 1910s. It has its downfalls (a broken radiator that lets the cold seep in) and its perks (a super soldier neighbor). Meeting Steve Rogers is the biggest perk of living in the old building, and it leads to frequent movie nights. When the radiator is broken and a chill reaches the apartment, Steve lends the reader one of his sweaters. 

pairings : Steve Rogers x Reader

warnings : None really, mentions a bruise, mentions the reader working in the emergency room as a nurse. (If I missed anything please let me know!)

word count : 1,600

AO3 (x)

a/n : Day two of Comfortember is here! The prompt was ‘sweater weather’. So fun fact, I have some friends that really are ER nurses. The two funky little stories I wrote are real things my friends have encountered during a shift that was during the early hours of the morning. The things that happen in emergency rooms always seem so outlandish, I could never be a nurse from the stories I’ve heard. 

There were a lot of issues that came with your living in your apartment. It was an old building from the nineteen-tens, so this knowledge wasn’t surprising. Issues such as the faulty radiator that never worked in the winter, the windows weren’t insulated, the half-inch gap between the bottom of your front door and the floor, and the thin walls separating all the apartments. For as many issues there were, you couldn’t deny the benefits. Like the cheap rent, the sweet old lady who was the landlord, how few neighbors you had. Speaking of neighbors, the biggest benefit of this apartment was your next-door neighbor at the end of the hall. Steve Rogers, the Avengers’ very own Captain America. 

You recall when you first moved in the apartment being completely silent. You’d assumed it was vacant, until one day you heard your landlord, Mrs. Evelyn, greeting someone happily. Soon you heard the door next to yours open and close for the first time. A few minutes passed where you heard some movement next door before the silence you’d grown used to from it returned. Curious who your neighbor was, you decided it could wait considering the late hour it was. It was a few weeks before your schedules allowed your paths to cross again. 

You were in your hospital issued scrubs, balancing your grocery bags in one hand while holding a new plant in the other. Trying to get your key into the lock, you were ready to give up when they slipped from your fingers. With a defeated groan, you placed your head against the door while staring down at the keys. 

“Excuse me,” a friendly voice said. “Would you like some help?” 

“Please,” you answered while turning around. 

When you turned around, all you saw at first was blond hair, a muscular body bending down to grab your keys, and a leather jacket. Once he stood to his full height, you were shocked by how much this man towered over you. Steady hands slid your key into the lock and turned before retreating to his sides, leaving your key in the door. 

“Thank you,” you finally caught a glimpse at the man’s face, “Mister Rogers.”

His cheeks flushed lightly, “No problem miss…?”

“Y/N,” you shifted the plant to rest between your side and the arm holding your groceries to reach a hand out in greeting. “It’s nice to meet you.”

It’s been four months since meeting your quiet neighbor. You learned he wasn’t in often, having missions that last weeks at a time. It wasn’t uncommon for you to see him entering his apartment, still in uniform with his shield, as you were both coming home from and leaving for your shifts at the hospital. 

The two of you slowly became friends as your paths crossed. You’d begun to text occasionally; it was mainly Steve texting you his apologies whenever he’d be coming home at an ungodly hour. There were occasions where one of you would ask the other to grab the package that was being delivered, if either of you needed something from the store, or if you could explain to Steve something from the twenty-first century. Having one of earth’s mightiest heroes as your neighbor was a quiet affair. You’d grown close in your time together. 

It was time for your monthly movie night together. This month was at Steve’s apartment, and despite him arriving just this morning he insisted tonight be movie night. You had on your slippers and a pair of sweatpants alongside your black t-shirt with a fox printed on it. Knocking on his door, you adjusted the bag of snacks in your hand. The door opened quickly, Steve’s approach inaudible. 

“Hi,” he smiled, “come in.”

With how he towered over you, you had to look up from the white shirt that clung to him to meet his eyes. With your gaze moving upward it was no surprise when your eyes were focused on the dark bruise that was high on his cheekbone. You shuffled past him into his apartment. Once he closed the door, you couldn’t hold in your concern. 

“Are you alright? What happened?” You stood on your tiptoes to gently touch the skin around his bruise. 

“I’m fine,” he reassured. “It’ll be gone in the morning, plus it doesn’t even hurt.”

You pouted at his answer, but didn’t protest when he took your hand in his. He led you across the apartment to the living room, sitting the two of you on the couch. Before you could ask, he placed a blanket across your lap while you grabbed the remote. You cuddled into your side of the couch as he put his feet up on the coffee table. Tilting his head back to rest against the couch, he turned to face you.

“How was your shift?” He asked you like every time the two of you hung out. 

“Horrible,” you groaned. 

“What happened this time?” He chuckled.

“It was horrible. Today was my rotation at the emergency room, and I swear it was one of those days where the most bizarre people came in. A woman and her mother came in, and the mother claimed she was very dizzy. Making sure she was okay, we determined it was just vertigo. I was the one who had the pleasure of informing them of the diagnosis as well as handing over the discharge papers, but when I said it was just vertigo the daughter looked at me and replied with ‘no, she’s a libra’ and she was completely serious. Then as soon as they left I had to handle a fellow nurse who claimed a man that came in with kidney stones was just looking for drugs because ‘the uterus looks healthy.’ And that was at the start of my shift, it only went down from there.”

“That’s…a lot. But can I ask one question?”

“Sure.”

“What’s a libra?”

At his question I couldn’t contain the laughter that erupted from me. Steve furrowed his eyebrows at my reaction, and I finally managed to reply, “It has to do with when her birthday is,” between peals of laughter. 

Steve took a moment to process my words before he chuckled, too. Shaking his head, Steve gently took the remote from my hands. My giggles finally subsided as he turned on the television. 

“What do you want to discover today?” I gently ask. 

“I think the next movie on my list is Rocky. What is that?” He curiously looks at his small notebook. 

“It’s a movie about a boxer. Technically it’s five movies about a boxer, but overall it’s a boxing movie.”

“There’s five of them? I only have the first two, I thought that’s all there was.”

I shrug, “You don’t have to see them all. You don’t even need to watch all of the first one. It’s all about what you think you should learn about, y’know?”

“I guess so, yeah. I just don’t think we ever had movies that continued on that many times. Why would they do that?”

I grab the remote and begin to pull up the Rocky movies, “Well, some people really like them. And because of that, more movies about it get made.”

Steve nods at my response, focused on the television as the opening credits roll. I relax on the couch, enjoying being next to Steve. 

The sun has long since set and we are halfway through the third Rocky movie. The temperature has dropped and I can’t stop the occasional shivers that rush through me. It isn’t until another one hits that Steve pauses the movie. He quickly goes into a different room before emerging with a cream knitted sweater.  

“Sorry, the radiator’s broken again. This should help though,” he offers it to me as he sits down.

I stare for a moment before taking the sweater from his hand. I pull the soft material over my head and am shocked by just how much it engulfs me. The sleeves fall well past my hands and the sweater ends just above my knee. The soft material works quickly at capturing my warmth and keeping it around me. I sigh at the coziness of it before realizing the way it smells like Steve. A fresh, minty scent, clean smell, trapped in the fibers of the sweater. I curl into the sweater, enjoying having the material on me. Steve presses play on the movie again before sitting closer than before. 

It’s as the credits roll that a yawn escapes me. I stiffly stand up and stretch. Steve begins to pick up the snack wrappers from the couch while I shuffle to get my slippers on again. All too soon, Steve is following me to his front door. As I reach for the handle, Steve gently turns me around. 

“So I was thinking,” he starts off timidly, “that next time I’m back from a mission. Maybe we could go get dinner together? And maybe we can go around the city.”

“I’d really like that,” I smiled up at him. “It’s a date.”

“Yeah, it’s a date,” Steve smiles down at me, before kissing the top of my head.  

I wrap my arms around him loosely,“Oh! I almost forgot your sweater, here–”

“Hold onto it. It’ll keep you warm while I work on getting our radiators fixed. If mine’s broken again it’s likely yours will be, too.”

“Okay. Good night Steve,” I gently kissed his cheek. 

“Good night sweetheart.” Steve opens the door for me and I step out. 

I hear his door click shut moments after mine.

Author's Note : Reblogs are appreciated, likes are welcome, and if you want to read more of my fics then maybe follow.

©heyitsme1040 If you find this post on any platform under a username different than heyitsme1040 it is not their work.

[heli0s-writes]

hullo my favorite writer did you see the tumblr post about steve growing up with chronic pain and him registering pain as just a part of living and simply existing and did it FUCK you up as much as it fucked me up *wail*

i can just imagine him coming home with broken ribs and bruised up everywhere and reader's upset so he tries to comfort her like 'babe it will literally heal by tmr morning' but she's still upset and he doesn't quite understand why *wail pt. 2*

and the fact that he's constantly getting injured as cap so he still experiences chronic pain even with the serum i can't—

to quote one of your magnificent works...

"Steve’s shield symbolizes the kind of idolatry you want to destroy some nights.

Hijack the ivory points of your lover’s brilliant star and stab him to death with it.

Well, sort of. Maybe just within an inch of his life—a quick reminder that there’s more to him than being humanity’s moral paradigm and savior. That the immeasurable world he’s sworn to can exist in smaller spaces because sometimes he forgets."

You and Steve get bodyswapped (magic, I know, ridiculous) and you start clenching up, wincing, before looking at him (in your body, oh the mindfuckery) and grit out, "Is this your daily?"

He can't make eye contact because it is, but he grew up with it, you know? The human brain is so resilient, so crafty in how it convinces the body to regulate. He learned to live with it. He lives it still-- it's fine, seriously.

But no, Steve, chronic pain isn't fine. It's not normal at all. It shouldn't have been for you back then and it shouldn't be for you now.

Big emotional turmoil for everyone involved but it simmers down, Steve promises he'll get it checked out for real after this is sorted. He's so damn shifty about it, but you want to believe him.

And then a few days later, when you're still stuck, and you take his body out for a spin to kick some ass, you come back to the tower pissed because the serum made him strong, and it made him heal fast, but it didn't make Steve feel pain any less.

Getting shot is getting shot is getting shot. Landing from a 25 story fall into a pile of glass breaks bones.

Bucky walks next to you, pats you on the back and you can't even freakin' form any words because Steve isn't just reckless, he's categorically suicidal.

All you can get out is, "Is he gonna stop?"

Bucky's first instinct is to say no, because has Steve ever stopped for anything? Steve is all forward motion, all the time, but then Bucky remembers the way he softened the other day. The way you teared up when you yelled at him for never speaking up and even though you were swapped in each others' bodies, Steve's expression in your face was unlike anything Bucky had ever seen.

Bucky squeezes your shoulder.

"He might for you."

[agent-whiskeys-sweetheart]

Marvel Preferences - With A Gamer GF

Bucky - Bucky is a bit of a classic gamer. He can handle an arcade game like no one you’ve ever seen. When you introduce him to the world of at home gaming he is very intrigued. The first few times you show him he simply sits back and watches happily. He enjoys seeing you in your element. Later he asks if he can try. You gladly give up the controller, watching him pick up the game like a fish to water. He’s so good at it. However, he still prefers the classics. So after that he’d rather just sit and watch and go to the arcade from time to time. 

Loki - At first Loki finds your games quite silly. When he sees you playing and you explain to him what you’re doing he would turn his nose up a bit. “Games are for children.” He comments absentmindedly before leaving the room. However he couldn’t help but watch one night and what he saw really impressed him. You moved through the levels with such ease and comfortability that he couldn’t help but stay to watch. After that night, he was hooked. He never wants to play with you but he’s become quite fond of watching. He even praises you often when you beat a level or achieve a task. 

Tony - Tony is a bit of a gamer himself. Not nearly as in depth as you but he knows his way around a controller. He used to love first person shooters. He was actually quite good at them too. However, after what happened in New York he’s been a bit skittish around the more violent games. It feels too immersive sometimes. That’s when you introduce him to some cozier games. He finds that he enjoys gaming much more when there’s not so much pressure. He really likes Minecraft. He could sit there and build with you for hours. The two of you now have a standing Minecraft date every Friday night. 

Steve - Steve is super confused by your games at first. When he sees the high definition graphics and the complex set of tasks he’s kind of blown away, commenting how impressive it is that you can keep track of everything. Wanting to immerse him in your favorite pastime you try to warm him up to playing with you. The first time he actually gets a bit frustrated when he can’t figure it out. However, pretty soon he picks it up and plays with you from time to time. Now you switch off between watching and playing, finding it a delightful way to spend time together. Although he doesn’t admit it, he’d much rather just watch you play rather than picking up a controller for himself. 

Frank - Frank is actually a big gamer himself. He loves to relax on the couch at the end of a tough week and mindlessly play a violent video game. It wasn’t until he met you that he discovered other types of games. He’s warmed up to other genres although his favorite is still the classic first person shooters. The two of you always find time to curl up together and play a game. He’s very lovey when you’re playing together. He’ll usually have you situated between his legs, wrapping his arms around your waist as he maneuvers the controller. It’s his favorite when you play shooter games with him. There’s something about seeing you so expertly handle a gun in game that just does something to him. He loves gaming even more after meeting you. Something about that time together is very special to him. 

Stephen - Stephen does not game. He finds the whole notion kind of below him. He would never deny you something that made you happy though. So he does try. There have been a handful of occasions where he’s sat and watched you play although in all instances he ended up falling asleep on the couch. There have also been a handful of times when you’ve both played together. He indulges you just because he loves you so much but it’s not something that happens very often. When it does he usually quits within an hour, finding some excuse to be done early. He’d much rather just leave you to yourself when you’re gaming, letting you do what makes you happy without any kind of interruption. 

Vision - Vision is naturally a whiz at games. It’s not his favorite hobby but there are definitely times when he is in the mood to game with you. He likes puzzle games the best. Anything that engages the mind. He loves watching you work out the complex rules and steps in order to win. Your intelligence is incredibly attractive to him so seeing your beautiful sexy brain in action is absolutely peak for him. Although for him, a good majority of the games you play are somewhat boring to him since he finds them so simple. His favorite moments are when he is cooking dinner and can watch you playing your game from the kitchen as he works. It’s the perfect amount of stimulation and entertainment for him. He’d much rather do that. 

Druig - Druig does like to game with you. He gets very competitive when he does though. Part of you loves it and part of you hates it. It doesn’t matter what the game is, he can always find a way to make a competition out of it. If you’re playing a first person shooter, he’ll bet you he can kill more bad guys than you. If it’s a puzzle game, he guarantees he can solve the puzzle faster than you. If it’s a farming game, he’s sure that he’ll grow more crops than you do. It’s all in a joking spirit though. He never actually means to compete with you. He just finds your huffy little reactions quite entertaining. It’s especially fun when you get into the spirit of it with him, trying to beat him at whatever challenge he’s given you at that moment. 

Dane - Dane is really bad at games but he’s got the spirit. It’s always so delightful when you watch him playing a game. It’s never frustrating or hindering. You just patiently guide him through the tasks, watching intently as he completes them one at a time. You find that farming games are really good to play with him. He’s better at those than any other kind of game. You just give him one task at a time. As he completes a task he’ll happily ask what he can do next. It’s kind of funny sometimes but you would never tell Dane how bad he is. You just keep letting him think he’s a game whiz and enjoying his company as the two of you play together. It’s also nice when he scoots close by your side and links arms with you as you play. 

@buckyhoney @paintballkid711 @the-mechanical-angel @readsalot73 @roxypeanut @sheerfreesia007 @ahopelessromanticwritersworld @balenciagabucky @fireinmoonshot  @greenorangevioletgrass @star-spangled-man @unearthlydust @crispyimagines17 @clints-lucky-arrow @waspswidows​​​

[sarahowritesostucky]

Hey there! I'm planning to do a 'Weaving Wonderful Writers.' I am putting together an appreciation post, a shoutout to wonderful writers like you. 'Coz, you bloody deserve it!

Also, from Navy's All Tricks No Treats:

🍭 - Ask a creator about one of their favorite creations.

And, if you were to pick one of your favorite stories near and dear to you, are you okay with me mentioning you and your fav fic in the 'Weaving Wonderful Writers' post?

I'm fairly new to the Tumblr block, and I've done more writing than reading. I thought this would be a good start for me to read and simultaneously share your work for others to enjoy. :)

Sure I'm okay with it! That's so sweet. Thank you!

[please forgive all the gratuitous self-plugging]

It is very hard to pick a favorite fic--like picking a favorite kid! I feel that my writing has improved since writing Bucky Barnes and his 1001 fetishes (or at least a few of them) and The Commander's Omega otherwise I might pick one of those.

I think I might choose the "Alpha, Beta, Omega" series, which is ongoing and depicts alpha Steve, beta Bucky (and in some of them, their omega Nora) in an Edwardian royalty AU, at different points in their 10+ year marriage. And if I had to pick just one from the collection, it'd be the fic Alpha, Beta (& Omega) which is the first fic in the series, chronologically-speaking, and also the longest.

[If you're trying to compile more m/f "reader" type stuff, then I'd say Happy Little Family, even though there's only 2 chapter to that one so far.]

Thanks for dropping such a nice 🍭treat in my inbox!

💖Sarah

[7auroraura7]

Peter: “I’M OPEN! YEET IT OVER HERE!!”

Shuri: “BROTHER YEET IT TO THE SPIDER, NOW!”

T’Challa: “YEETING!!!”

---------------------------------------------------

Aurora, from the other side of the battlefield: “And I thought I was weird...”

Grandpa Steve, right next to her: “You are, just not the Gen Z type that you should be.”

[filthyfluffyfantasies]

masterlist ┅ steve rogers

You’ve reached my masterlist for ( steve rogers ). Below is a complete and mostly up-to-date list of pieces I have written for ( steve rogers ) and a little list of symbols and their meanings to better help you find exactly what you’re looking for.

♡ Fluff | ♥ Filth | ☁ Angst | ☠ trigger warning needed | ★ Personal Favorite | ϟ Most Read | ☺ Work In Progress | ☻Abandoned

Happy reading, my darling!

NSFW

Alphabet

↪ here

Headcanons

↪ here

Interludes

↪ here

SFW

Alphabet

↪ here

Headcanons

↪ here

Interludes

↪ here

OTHER

Fic Name

↪ info post

[thatonegayfrog13]

SO WHERE'S STEVE IN THIS!?

so when i read avenger fics i noticed something. in the insert reader fics sometimes the reader is a Stark. like their his kid adopted or not. i see this alot. i even see some were their Nat's adopted kid. i understand why this happens. in the mcu we've seen these two be actually good with kids, (Natasha with Clint's kids to the point they call her aunty Nat and Tony with morgan/peter). BUT I NEED SOME PARENT STEVE! maybe its the daddy issues but i need this old man to somehow pull a Stark and adopt a kid. idk ex-hydra like Bucky or something. and it doesn't even have to be mcu Steve it can literally be 616 comic him or Avengers assemble him or SOMETHING! for god sake I'll take a nonspecific version were its a mix of different medias of him. i just want this goober to be a caring loving dad who may not get all of the current century stuff but he's trying, with the help of the avengers and this kid he somehow took under his wing.

also i demand: slow dancing lessons to old 40's music and jamming out to Marvin Gaye, helping steve with some modern stuff tech or otherwise, and forcing the other to watch Steve's old embarrassing Captain America movies and shorts from before he was an actual hero.

[darkredsugarcookie]

The Tower - Chapter 2 - Bucky Barnes x OC

Author note: hi hunny bunnies! sorry this took so long it's been a bit, but we're back! Finally getting somewhere with this chapter so I hope you love it! let me know if anyone wants to be added to the tag-list xx

If you haven't, make sure you read Chapter One :)

Tags: @cats-chaotic-mind @averyjoyysworld

Warnings: alcohol use, profanity, Cassandra Stark (she's a valid warning tbh)

It was either my downfall or my saving grace standing in front of me. But he hadn’t said anything yet, so I wasn’t sure which. 

“Will you put a Stephen Sanchez quote on my tombstone?” Avery asked me. 

“Only if you put a Taylor Swift one on mine.” 

I internally scolded myself. Bad time to pick a shirt that says 'eat your girl out or I will'. Dumbass.

Bucky zeroed in on where we were sitting and I suddenly felt like we were being hunted. But his eyes were only on me. I grew warm under his stare and I knew what it meant. I was the one in trouble here.

“What are you guys doing?” he asked, his hands balled into fists at his sides. His hair was a little messy, probably from an attempt at sleep, and the black sweats and red long sleeve told me he wasn’t planning on being out tonight. 

“Hey,” I said as casually as I could. “Um… Pizza break?” 

“Do you have any idea what time it is?” 

I rolled my eyes and Avery cut in. “We just wanted to get out of the house!” 

“You stay out of this right now. You’re lucky if I don’t tell your dad about your little adventure.” 

She got very quiet. 

“Thanks,” I said to her. “How did you know we were here?” 

“I tracked her phone,” Bucky said. 

“Okay, stalker.”

Bad joke. The look on his face told me that was a very bad joke. “What if you were in trouble? Do you even have a weapon on you?” 

Sighing, I folded my arms. “Yes.”

“Really?” Disbelief sat in his tone.

“No, but I normally do! Just not tonight. We just came out for some food.” 

A storm brewed behind those eyes. That stare had me shifting in my seat. “Up. Both of you. We’re going home.” 

That was the most awkward fifteen minute walk of my life. None of us said anything to each other until we walked back into the main house level. Avery stopped only a few feet into the living room. “Are you gonna tell my dad?” she asked. 

Bucky glanced at me for some reason before answering her. “I… I don’t know. Are you drunk?” 

“She doesn’t drink when we go out,” I said, stepping in front of her. “She doesn’t do anything. Half the time she doesn’t even talk to anyone. It’s my fault, okay?” 

“I didn’t ask you, Cass.” 

Anger burned in my chest. I stared at him, unyielding. He could tell on me all he wanted. Hell, he could call me an alcoholic or something and I’d laugh, but there was no room here to make Avery feel bad about herself when it was my fault we were out in the first place. 

“Avery, go to bed,” Bucky said. 

“But—” She started. 

“Go to bed, kid.” He didn’t look away from me once. 

I glanced at her as she squeezed my hand and walked down the hall. Neither of us spoke until I heard her door shut. “She doesn’t deserve that.”

“Then why was she out with you?” 

“Doesn’t matter. She didn’t do anything wrong. You want to get someone busted for drinking, pick on me.” 

“You are taking advantage of the fact that your father doesn’t care enough.” he stepped closer and it took all of me not to back up. 

“What is that supposed to mean?” I challenged. 

He hesitated then and I couldn’t ignore the small grin on my lips.

“Gotcha.” I turned around, walking into the kitchen to set down my phone. 

“That’s not what I meant.” He braced his hands on the counter, leaning forward as I poured myself a glass of water. I was halfway ignoring him. I knew how to sit through a lecture. “Cass.” I continued about the kitchen, pulling my hair down from the ponytail I’d tied it up in when Avery and I were eating. “Cassandra.”

It was an effort not to smile at him resorting to using my full name. 

Without a warning, he rounded the counter and grabbed my wrist to stop me in my tracks. “Look at me,” he said quietly. 

I sucked in a breath, my heart immediately racing against my chest. For a moment I just stared up at him, trying to decipher why the hell my heart was beating so fast. I wasn’t scared of him. I’d never been scared of him. He might be acting weird, yeah, but Bucky would never hurt me. “Tell me what you meant,” I said. 

Confliction passed over his face. “Your dad loves you, Cass, but he doesn’t protect you. Not like he should.” 

“Says you,” I retorted. “What were you doing up so late to realize we were gone?” 

He sighed, his thumb stroking my skin where he still held my arm. “That… is unimportant. What matters is that you were gone and considering the fact that you told everyone goodnight, that meant no one knew you’d left. These streets aren’t safe when you’re alone.” 

“I had Avery.”

“She’s like five-foot-nothing, Cass.”

“She’d be very offended if she heard that.”

Bucky rolled his eyes. “Good thing she’s not here.” He glanced down for a moment. 

“My eyes are up here,” I teased. 

He looked back up at me. “I was reading your shirt.”

I grinned. “Did your ego just take a hit?”

Bucky shrugged, releasing my arm. “If that statement is true, I have nothing to worry about.”

I let out the smallest gasp. 

“Finish that water and go to bed.” He stepped back, leaving the kitchen. 

“Yes, sir,” I replied. 

“And don’t call me that.”

I rolled my eyes before leaning over the counter, my face in my hands. I was burning up. That vodka was kicking in. 

I used to think there was nothing worse than having to go to class hungover. I now knew that it was even worse to wake up to direct sunlight and yelling in the living room when hungover. 

At first, I was tempted to try and sleep through it, but one of those voices didn’t belong in an argument that heated. It shot adrenaline straight through me and I immediately rushed out in the living room. I was only in my pajama bottoms and a hoodie, but I didn’t care. Something was wrong. 

I squinted against the light, ignoring the pounding in my head as I hurried into the living room. “What is going on?”

I took in the scene. Steve and Avery stood in front of the fireplace, Bucky leaning against the wall in the corner. Nat was in the kitchen, watching from a distance. My dad was sitting on the couch, seemingly only a little annoyed. 

“Have you not learned your lesson?” Steve snapped at Avery as she held her arms to herself. 

“Nothing even happened! I wasn’t doing anything wrong!” 

“What you were doing is a gateway.”

“Hello?!” I stepped up beside her. “What are you so pissed about?” 

“Cassandra,” Dad warned. 

“Do you not have something to say to her?” Steve said to my dad, who shrugged. 

“She’s a twenty year old girl. Twenty year old girls party. Sometimes they drink. It’s the 21st century, Cap. As long as she’s safe.” Dad looked at me. “Did you drive?”

“No.” 

“Are you pregnant?” 

“No!”

He looked at Steve again and held his hands out as if to say, “there you go.”

“That is not the bottom line for success that I want for my kid, Stark.” 

“Dad,” Avery started. “It’s fine. Everything was fine. We were safe, we were on our way home when Bucky found us.” 

“Bucky didn’t seem to think you were safe or he wouldn’t have told me.”

That’s when it clicked through my drowsy brain what had happened. I turned around and faced the man in the corner. “This is your fault.”

He didn’t say anything. His eyes fell to the ground and I faced the man in front of me again. “She didn’t do anything wrong,” I said. “If you’re gonna yell at someone, yell at me. Avery is doing everything she can to make you happy!” 

“That’s not the point—” 

“Sure seems like it.”

“Hasn’t this gone a little far?” Nat budded in, coming from the kitchen. “Rogers, she’s a kid. She went to a party, she didn’t rob a bank.” 

“So no one understands how serious this is?” 

“I think we understand that you’re being dramatic,” I said. 

“Cass,” Nat hissed at me. “Stop it.” 

“Please,” Avery said quietly. “Can we just let this be over with?” 

Steve took a step forward and I caught myself stepping between them. He looked right at her as he spoke. “Not until you understand that this road leads to you being exactly like your mother.” 

“Woah,” Dad said, finally standing. “That’s enough.” 

I saw the moment tears welled in her eyes and it was like something in me snapped. I didn’t even realize I was moving towards him until an arm wrapped around me from behind hauling me back. 

Now everyone was yelling. 

Nat pulled Steve back. “Being an asshole to your kid is not going to fix your relationship problems.” 

Dad wrapped his arm around Avery’s shoulders. “Barnes, get them out of here.”

“No,” I started. “I want to stay—”

“Go, Cassandra.” 

I shut my mouth and listened for once in my life. 

In her bedroom, Avery switched back and forth between crying and yelling for half an hour. I sat on the bed, occasionally glancing at Bucky, who stood in the corner and looked really concerned. 

Finally, she nearly collapsed on the floor with her back against the bed. I climbed down and sat next to her, wrapping my arm around her. “He didn’t mean it,” I said quietly. “He’s just a dad. Dads say things they don’t mean when they’re upset.” 

She didn’t respond, but instead looked up at the man in the corner. “I thought you’d have my back,” she said, her voice wavering in a way that made my heart shatter in my chest. “You’re supposed to be my friend too. Not just his.” 

Bucky took a breath and walked over, taking the chair from her desk to sit in front of us. “When your dad and I were kids, it was my job to look after him. To keep him safe.” 

Avery and I glanced at each other, but kept quiet. 

“I did my best— or what I thought was my best. And you know what happened?” Bucky stared at the floor like he was watching it all replay. “He signed up to be a test subject for a science project and went off to war. I blame myself for it.”

Avery wiped her eyes. “But isn’t he better for it?” 

“We can say that now, can’t we?” Bucky said. “But at the time it felt like I failed.” 

I watched him and the way he struggled but managed to look at her with the most sincerity I’d ever seen from him. “I don’t want to fail you either, bug. I don’t want you to hate me, but if that’s the price of keeping you safe…” He finished with a shrug and I felt her ease up a little. 

“That’s a stupid theory,” she said, but I could tell she didn’t mean it. 

“You want ice cream?” I asked. She nodded. I got up and walked to the door. “We’ll be back.” I gave Bucky a pointed look, nodding towards the door.

After a moment of hesitation, he followed me out into the hall. I grabbed my purse from my room and snuck to the elevator in the back hall. “Why am I coming?” Bucky asked. 

“Because I have some questions for you.” 

I didn’t take my car very often, but today was an exception. Driving was like therapy for me and boy did I need some of that right now. “Why’d you do it?” I asked. 

I didn’t get an answer right away. Instead, I heard Bucky sigh. “Because it’s what’s best.”

“Sitting back so she can get yelled at and insulted for an hour is what’s best for her?” I tightened my hands on the steering wheel as I accelerated into the street. “Is that really what you think?” I glanced at him. “I’ve known you for a while. And I know you don’t really think that.”

“It’s complicated, Cass. She’s still a kid.”

“She’s almost nineteen, Bucky.” 

“She’s... The world's gone at her enough. I wanna prevent it anymore if I can.” 

I rolled my eyes. “Okay, well what about your friend’s newfound temper? Because he wasn’t always like that.”

“He’s under a lot of pressure right now with missions.”

“Isn’t everyone?” I sighed, running my hand through my hair. “Listen. I’m doing what I have to in order to keep her from locking herself up in her room for the rest of her life.” 

Bucky looked at me. “What are you talking about?” 

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but she’s retreated a little bit lately. It’s her anxiety.” I signaled to turn onto the next street. 

“What do you mean?” 

“She’s having a hard time with it,” I said. “Her dad’s missions, college, work, relationships. It’s getting to her. She panics easier now than she did a few years ago. Things like this morning will have her off balance for weeks. Her medication isn't working as well.” I glanced at him as I pulled into the parking lot. “I can’t believe you haven’t noticed. Even Nat said something the other day.” “I guess… I’m in my head a lot these days.” “Well, you’re not the only one.” I grabbed my bag and climbed out of the car. “Hurry up.” 

[strawberry-cake-roll]

Been drawing like crazy today!! Did a bunch of screenshot redraws on the first one cause I had no idea how to fill up the blank space lol

[buckymilf]

friendly reminder that steve rogers was a victim of bad writing and weird self insert coming from creepy writers, he would never chose to abandon bucky and his found family, he would never chose to live in the past for no woman.

[hanasnx]

i’d like to formally apologize to natasha romanoff who i used as my self insert to date tony stark during iron man 2 and avengers, and then move on to steve rogers in time for captain america: winter soldier