★ | Will They Tell My Story?

@americansentinel || touch-starved || accepting

@peggys-orders

The feather-light touch on the back of his hand, made him realize just how tightly he was holding on to her hand, Thompson had made some crack at Peggy’s expense and Steve saw read.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured loosening his hold on her hand, but not letting go.

peggys-orders‌:

The staff get together was usually an all-boys club, save for once before when she’d saved Thompson’s arse in Belarus. The idyll had not lasted long at all. Soon he would be standing in a back alley, making cracks again.

Peggy knew the score. Jealousy was a terrible mistress.

Lifting her hand off of Steve’s, she took a careful drink from the whiskey she was nursing and turned to whisper in his ear.

“I put up with it every bloody day. This is nothing new, and I’ll be damned if I allow myself to be driven off by his childish antics.” She pressed a quick kiss to his cheek. “And darling? Don’t get any ideas about tuning him in. I am quite capable of doing that myself if the need should arise.”

Instead, she smiled sweetly at Jack. It was enough to unnerve him. He nearly ended up wearing his drink for his troubles, for in those dark eyes, he saw a reflection of the man who’d shot him in Los Angeles. Not even the admiration of his entourage was enough to keep him taking potshots at an easy target.

Peggy wasn’t sure whether his alternate topic of conversation was any wiser than the prior barbs at her expense. 

“Were you listening to that last game?” Jack crowed. “Our boys don’t even need DiMaggio at full strength to get the job done across the bridge. We’re bringing it home again this year!”

She carefully put her hand back on Steve’s in hopes that he didn’t give in to the urge to sock Jack. Some days she wondered if Jack was meant to be nothing more than an irritant to both Steve and Peggy.

“I’m more of a Dodgers fan,” Steve grunted in response, he wanted to pummel Thompson straight into the ground, he had never liked the man and he liked him even less now.

Turning to Peggy, he shot her a look, why had he agreed to come to this thing in the first place? Peggy was a better agent than Thompson and the lot of them put together, she didn’t deserve this.

“Are you sure I can’t convince you to go home with me?”

The longer this particular outing went on, the more likely she thought the evening would end with one or both of them being arrested for brawling in public. Not that Jack would stand a chance. Peggy wanted very much to keep tempers in check lest they draw too much attention.

She rose and said, “Well, gentlemen, I think it’s time I take my leave for the evening.” Giving a meaningful glance to Jack, she added, “And as a thank you for your kind words earlier, we shall do you the kindness of letting you pick up our tab for the evening.”

“I’ve had just about enough of him.” Steve whispered to Peggy as they walked away. Even now, Steve didn’t like bullies, and that’s what Jack Thompson was.

@peggys-orders

The feather-light touch on the back of his hand, made him realize just how tightly he was holding on to her hand, Thompson had made some crack at Peggy’s expense and Steve saw read.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured loosening his hold on her hand, but not letting go.

Peggy knew the score. Jealousy was a terrible mistress.

Lifting her hand off of Steve’s, she took a careful drink from the whiskey she was nursing and turned to whisper in his ear.

“I put up with it every bloody day. This is nothing new, and I’ll be damned if I allow myself to be driven off by his childish antics.” She pressed a quick kiss to his cheek. “And darling? Don’t get any ideas about tuning him in. I am quite capable of doing that myself if the need should arise.”

Instead, she smiled sweetly at Jack. It was enough to unnerve him. He nearly ended up wearing his drink for his troubles, for in those dark eyes, he saw a reflection of the man who’d shot him in Los Angeles. Not even the admiration of his entourage was enough to keep him taking potshots at an easy target.

Peggy wasn’t sure whether his alternate topic of conversation was any wiser than the prior barbs at her expense. 

“Were you listening to that last game?” Jack crowed. “Our boys don’t even need DiMaggio at full strength to get the job done across the bridge. We’re bringing it home again this year!”

Turning to Peggy, he shot her a look, why had he agreed to come to this thing in the first place? Peggy was a better agent than Thompson and the lot of them put together, she didn’t deserve this.

Draw, align the sight, then squeeze the trigger.

It had seemed almost a lifetime since she’d first been trained to fire a pistol. Tonight she was reacting to the noise behind her. In the S.O.E., training involved firing first and asking questions later. Missions couldn’t be completed by corpses.

Draw. The gun seemed to slip from her thigh holster into her hand easily.

Align the sight. She put the pistol at the right level, aligning sight and target while her non-dominant hand rose to stabilize her firing stance..

Yet she hesitated before squeezing the trigger. The hesitation had come before any conscious realization of why she’d held off on firing her PPK.

“Stop where you are.” The words were even, uttered a little more loudly than was perhaps necessary. She couldn’t see the target. There were too many shadows cast by the trees in her backyard. “Step forward carefully. Slowly into the light.”

The hand which usually steadied her pull on the trigger was now trembling.

And there he was. The lights from the deck overlooking her backyard had cast enough light to take him in. Pointing the pistol upward, she engaged the safety and carefully slipped down to the lawn.

peggys-orders‌:

It was a lot to take in. A world where half the life in the universe could be snapped out of existence. Of magic hammers and the men who wielded them. Friction with Howard’s son that culminated in his becoming a fugitive after he’d saved Bucky from the boy’s outrage.

Perhaps too much at once. No matter what doubts she might have about the story itself, she did not for one second doubt his conviction that he’d lived the life he’d told her about. Steve was no liar.

And he was here in her home, safe, if a bit grizzled by whatever he’d endured.

“Don’t you dare!” she argued a bit too forcefully. “Steve, I don’t know what you’ve endured, but whatever it is, I want you here. I…”

She paused and bit her lip. Declarations like this were the stuff of films, not her life. They did not come easily.

“You are here with me now, and I’ll be damned if I’m going to let you go.” 

The final notes of her voice hadn’t yet faded when she was on her feet, practically leaping across the short space between their respective chairs to kiss him once more. She settled easily into his lap and let her tears run freely for the first time in years.

Steve let her kiss him and sit in his lap, trying his hardest to dry her tears with his thumbs. But even so, he let her cry, she probably needed it.

“Then I’ll stay, I don’t know how we’ll explain it all just yet, but we’ll figure all that out later.”

Rather belatedly it struck her how many taboos she’d crossed that would once have been unthinkable. She’d never flung herself into a man’s arms much less into his lap, nor thought to tell one that he would not be able to leave.

God help her if anyone ever found out the effect Steve Rogers had on her self-control. It had been sorely tested during the war. Now after years of doing without, she felt like she’d just bought a large bag of real sugar without need of ration coupons. Having done without for so long had taken a toll. She would enjoy what was now available and be thankful that her years of privation were at an end.

Assuming, of course, that he wanted that too. The kiss certainly had suggested it.

“How long have you been back?” she asked softly, pulling away just enough for air to pass between their faces. “Dear God, I can hardly believe it.”

Then she stopped, looking more intently into his face. There were lines on his forehead that weren’t there before. At the corners of his eyes. More than merely his confidence level had changed.

Perhaps it wasn’t out of the realm of possibility that he’d truly traveled in time. 

I’m finding it difficult to find memes for nonverbal characters ( be they mute, or just not fond of talking ) so I thought I’d make a few!

Neutral

☝️ Tap my muse on the shoulder

👉 Point to something for my muse to see

🤙 Bump into my muse

😊 Sit down next to my muse

🤨 Sit down across from my muse

📓 Push/Slide [an object] across a table to my muse

✍️ Pass my muse a note

🙄 Roll their eyes at my muse

🚪 Tap on a table/door/wall/chair to get my muse’s attention without speaking

Aggressive

🐺 Growl at my muse

😬 Snarl/show teeth at my muse

😠 Death Glare at my muse

🙌 Push/Shove my muse

👊 Punch my muse

👖 Kick my muse in the shin

👠 Stomp on my muse’s foot

😵 Knee my muse in the gut

💀 Knee my muse in the groin

🔪 Point a weapon at my muse

🖕 Flip my muse the bird/a similar gesture

👔 Roughly pull my muse down by the collar

💢 Bang on a door/wall/table to get my muse’s attention- angrily

Angst

👩‍⚕️ Put pressure on my muse’s wound

🌡 Push my muse down to give them medical attention

🥣 Bring my muse soup/medicine when they are sick

🤢 Hold my muse’s hair back/Rub my muse’s back while they are sick/throwing up

👐 Hold my muse when they are badly wounded/dying

👁 Wake my muse up during a nightmare

🐱 Hold my muse after a nightmare

😭 Hold my muse when they are crying

😢Touch my muse’s shoulder while they are crying in secret

💧 Wipe away my muse’s tears

💥 Try to calm my muse during an overwhelming emotional moment

⛈ Find my muse after some kind of trauma

Soft

👕 Tug on my muse’s sleeve/shirt/skirt

🐈 Lean against my muse’s side

🤝 Hold my muse’s hand

🤗 Pull my muse into a hug

🐕 Rest their head on my muse’s shoulder/knee

🐶 Nuzzle my muse with their nose [specify a location]

✋ Touch the back of my muse’s hand

🤝 Reach for my muse’s hand to hold it

👗 Fix/Straighten my muse’s clothes

😴 Stand by the bed to see if my muse will let you under the covers with them

🛌 Crawl under the covers with my muse

🥪 Set a plate/tray/bowl of food down for my muse

😚 Kiss my muse on the cheek

Playful

🌸 Put a flower in my muse’s hair

✨ Playfully shove my muse’s shoulder

💃 Pull my muse onto a dance floor/up to dance

🤞 Come up beside them and tap the shoulder opposite where they’re standing

😈 Jump out of the shadows to scare/startle my muse

😛 Stick their tongue out at my muse

😱 Make a silly face at my muse

🤭 Tickle my muse

👃 Poke my muse’s nose

💪 Pick my muse up

Sensual/Sexual

💘 Pull my muse in for a rough kiss

💕 Pull my muse in for a tender kiss

💞 Pull my muse in for a messy/desperate kiss

💖 Lean in to give my muse a sweet/chaste kiss

❤️ Lean in to give my muse a tender kiss

🔥 Pull my muse down by the collar/by their clothes - in a sexy way

😉 Pull my muse in by the hips

😲 Smack my muse’s butt

💋 Kiss my muse’s neck

👌 Push my muse down and give them a massage

👙 Pull [an article of clothing] off my muse

👀 Push my muse down on the bed

The use of the last Pym Particle was not an easy decision, all the stones were returned, each one in their proper place, but he couldn’t bring himself to come back to the future.

For once in his life, Steve Rogers was going to be selfish. so he used his ticket home to really go home, to 1945.

“I won’t, trust me, Peg.” He said as he walked beside her.

When they reached the apartment, Steve waited patiently for her to put her things away before he spoke.

Peggy nodded and led him to the sitting room so they could get comfortable for whatever this was about to be.

The use of the last Pym Particle was not an easy decision, all the stones were returned, each one in their proper place, but he couldn’t bring himself to come back to the future.

For once in his life, Steve Rogers was going to be selfish. so he used his ticket home to really go home, to 1945.

“I won’t, trust me, Peg.” He said as he walked beside her.

When they reached the apartment, Steve waited patiently for her to put her things away before he spoke.

Peggy nodded and led him to the sitting room so they could get comfortable for whatever this was about to be.

The use of the last Pym Particle was not an easy decision, all the stones were returned, each one in their proper place, but he couldn’t bring himself to come back to the future.

For once in his life, Steve Rogers was going to be selfish. so he used his ticket home to really go home, to 1945.

“I won’t, trust me, Peg.” He said as he walked beside her.

When they reached the apartment, Steve waited patiently for her to put her things away before he spoke.

Draw, align the sight, then squeeze the trigger.

It had seemed almost a lifetime since she’d first been trained to fire a pistol. Tonight she was reacting to the noise behind her. In the S.O.E., training involved firing first and asking questions later. Missions couldn’t be completed by corpses.

Draw. The gun seemed to slip from her thigh holster into her hand easily.

Align the sight. She put the pistol at the right level, aligning sight and target while her non-dominant hand rose to stabilize her firing stance..

Yet she hesitated before squeezing the trigger. The hesitation had come before any conscious realization of why she’d held off on firing her PPK.

“Stop where you are.” The words were even, uttered a little more loudly than was perhaps necessary. She couldn’t see the target. There were too many shadows cast by the trees in her backyard. “Step forward carefully. Slowly into the light.”

The hand which usually steadied her pull on the trigger was now trembling.

And there he was. The lights from the deck overlooking her backyard had cast enough light to take him in. Pointing the pistol upward, she engaged the safety and carefully slipped down to the lawn.

peggys-orders‌:

She hadn’t been ready to say the words out loud that he’d uttered. The shock was still too fresh, though she’d done the rare thing of allowing him to direct her once she’d locked the back door. The pair were soon sitting next to each other at her dining room table. Only a small light over the sink illuminated the space.

Listening carefully, Peggy thought he’d gone barmy. Seventy years? Preposterous. There were definite indications that he’d aged since 1945 though she was not ready to believe this. It had been barely four since she’d laid eyes on him.

“Oh, seventy years now?” she asked, her voice sounding more like she was indulging an imaginative child than hearing important information. “Darling, I’m quite certain that whatever has happened, you’re likely not feeling very well. At least, I hope that’s it, and that it doesn’t look like there’s seventy years showing on my face.”

“Just, please let me finish.” Steve said reaching out to take one of her hands in his.

And so he told her all about his life in the future and Thanos and the time heist to bring back all of those who disappeared in the snap, and how that had led him back to her in a moment of pure selfish desire.

“I couldn’t go back there, Peg. The world wasn’t the same, I wanted to come home. If you’ll have me, if not then I’ll disappear and you’ll never have to see me again.”

It was a lot to take in. A world where half the life in the universe could be snapped out of existence. Of magic hammers and the men who wielded them. Friction with Howard’s son that culminated in his becoming a fugitive after he’d saved Bucky from the boy’s outrage.

Perhaps too much at once. No matter what doubts she might have about the story itself, she did not for one second doubt his conviction that he’d lived the life he’d told her about. Steve was no liar.

And he was here in her home, safe, if a bit grizzled by whatever he’d endured.

“Don’t you dare!” she argued a bit too forcefully. “Steve, I don’t know what you’ve endured, but whatever it is, I want you here. I…”

She paused and bit her lip. Declarations like this were the stuff of films, not her life. They did not come easily.

“You are here with me now, and I’ll be damned if I’m going to let you go.” 

The use of the last Pym Particle was not an easy decision, all the stones were returned, each one in their proper place, but he couldn’t bring himself to come back to the future.

For once in his life, Steve Rogers was going to be selfish. so he used his ticket home to really go home, to 1945.

The use of the last Pym Particle was not an easy decision, all the stones were returned, each one in their proper place, but he couldn’t bring himself to come back to the future.

For once in his life, Steve Rogers was going to be selfish. so he used his ticket home to really go home, to 1945.

“I think you’ll find that when I was in the field with St- Captain America-“

“Yeah yeah, “the field”. Look I don’t need Captain America’s bit of skirt telling me I’m doing my job wrong. Go take the coffee order and for once in your goddamn life- do as you’re told.”

“Excuse me?” The words came out in the voice of Captain America, not Steve Rogers, this voice commanded respect.

The crowd of gawking agents parted so that Steve could approach, it was almost like the parting of the Red Sea. This wasn’t how he wanted to meet Peggy again, he’d had another sweeter idea in mind, but this was how it was going to go anyway.

After clearing his throat, he spoke, “I apologize, that comment was out of line.” Though his tone implied ‘even if it is true.’ “Welcome back to the land of the living, Captain,” he held out his hand to shake.

Peggy had gone pale, shocked to see Steve in any form outside of a photograph. If she cried in front of the office she may as well quit on the spot. The same went for rushing to Steve’s side.

“Couldn’t call my ride,” Steve smiled, he knew better than to kiss her here, not where she worked, especially not when she was just yelled at by her colleague. But oh God, did he want to.