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From this mandala of childhood, anger, dread, incense, and excrement, Simon and Burns have mounted a war like no other on the small screen [. . .] No soundtrack cues or bullies us to scurry for cover or duck our heads; no score soars or swells to aïŹatus. [. . .] Generation Kill sings its own songs, through the dry lips and sick grins of nervy men in Humvees. Plus, the war actually looks like one. [. . .]Simon and Burnsâs Iraq, filmed in Mozambique, South Africa, and Namibia, is desert and laser light, morphine and goats, camels and tattoos, bullets and Skittles, gay porn and Gilliganâs Island, South Park and Hustler, Noam Chomsky and dump jokes.
(Illustration by Wes DuvallPhoto: Paul Schiraldi)
HBOâs Terrific Summer Buzz Kill, by John Leonard, July 2, 2008, New York Magazine [x]
Welcome to our first story for Throwback Tuesday. Here we have the first story I posted in late 2024 back on my old account.
Pairing: Husband!Steve Rogers x Wife!Reader
Word Count: 2134
Summary: It's the night of the biggest party of the year. You've been working alongside Pepper and Nat to ensure this party goes well. What you don't count on is a stuck zipper. At least, you're married to a man with a plan who's never failed to let you down.
Warnings: none
A/N: This is the first story I also posted in my Avenger-Style Domesticity AU where we'll find domestic stories of Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes, and Sam Wilson. I hope you enjoy these stories again here and the new ones that are to come soon for this AU and many others.
Steve Rogers Masterlist | Series Masterlist | Verse Masterlist
âItâs stuck.â
You tried to turn around at Natâs words, but she stopped you before you could wrench the tiny zipper from her hands.
It wasnât like you hadnât heard the smallest shreds as the zipper caught the delicate fabric and refused to let go. Itâs just that this couldnât be the thing that went wrong tonight. Of all your planning with Nat and Pepper to make this event the talk of the year, you couldnât afford to be brought low because of a measly zipper on one of the most expensive gowns youâve ever owned.
âHow bad is it?â you asked though you couldnât be sure you wanted to know.
Nat didnât immediately answer, which was answer enough.
âCan we pin it or something?â
A glance at Natâs pinched features in the mirror sent a shiver of dread down your spine.
The party would start any minute. Not only would your dress keep you from your duties, you would miss out on seeing the one person youâve been wanting to see the past few weeks. Oh, youâd missed him something fierce while heâd been away, and now you couldnât be certain youâd have the reunion you wanted with him.
This was supposed to be one of your biggest nights, too.
How were you going to explain your absence? How could you leave Nat and Pepper to fend for themselves? Then again, how were you supposed to help if your dressâs darn zipper was stuck halfway up your back.
In your current self-pitying state, you almost missed the way Natâs face smoothed. Her hand had gone to the small ear comm she wore, holding it as she listened to Pepper on the other end.
You had one, too, but youâd taken it out after it started bugging you. The intention had been to replace it after youâd gotten dressed and had no more time for yourself before the party started. That had fallen by the wayside when your dress had pulled its dirty trick and kept you standing in front of your mirror debating your options.
Whatever Pepper told Nat soon tugged her signature smirk over her features, replacing her previous frown.
âPepper is sending us reinforcements,â she said after a moment, her hand dropping from the comm.
The smirk remained as the two of you waited for whoever Pepper had sent to save the day.
Within minutes, said savior arrived.
You couldnât help the gasp that slipped past your lips as you took in the only man thatâs held your attention and your heart for so many years.
His new suit fit him to perfection, but then, you had no doubt it would after sending his measurements to the best tailor New York City had to offer. The dark navy made his blue eyes pop while the silver vest beneath his jacket brought out the sparkle you so adored whenever he glanced at you.
âHello, sweetheart,â his deep voice echoed softly through the room. âI heard you could use my expertise.â
Nat, not at all offended at being ignored, deepened her smirk as she moved toward the open doorway. It didnât seem to matter how much your man filled it, blocking her. Having fought at his side longer than you have, it didnât take much for her to slip past him. Then again, that could be her spy training more than her comfort at being one of his Avenger coworkers.
As if her disappearance gave him further permission, he stepped into the room, quickly closing the distance. He didnât stop until only a mere foot separated you. His slacks brushed the outer layers of your dressâs full skirt.
âYou look ravishing, sweetheart,â he murmured, his gaze missing nothing of the silver dress you wore with the navy lace creating intricate snowflake patterns.
Putting up a hand to keep him at bay, you raised a brow. âAnd you, Mr. Rogers, have been hanging out with Sam and Bucky too much if youâre using âravishingâ as a word to compliment me. Youâre going to behave until after this party is over. Do we understand each other?â
âYou are married to Captain America, sweetheart. Iâm the very beacon of honor and virtue.â He held up his hand as though he were a Boy Scout though his gaze continued to twinkle. His lips twitched with the amusement he wasnât trying too hard to conceal.
You simply shook your head. âNo, I married Steven Grant Rogers. Youâre the epitome of a punk from Brooklyn just as your best friend has always claimed. Never back down from a fight even when you should and have a mouth that could make a sailor blush on a good day.â
âIs that so?â
It was his turn to raise his brows though his amusement remained.
Knowing what he wanted to hear next, you sent him a softer smile, indulging him. After all, you two have done this little dance since not long after the two of you fell in love. Reaching out, you rested your hand over the small pocket of his suit jacket. His heart beat steadily beneath your palm, relaxing you as it always did.
Even as you nodded in affirmation, you added, âYet, youâre also the man with a heart of pure gold and always help your friends and family whenever they need you. I didnât marry the perfect soldier the U.S. Army wanted, but the good man you are and will always be. My life has been better for knowing you, and I fall more in love with you every day.â
His amusement melted into such warmth and affection that you knew heâd behave for at least a little while.
âWhat do you need, Mrs. Rogers?â
Pressing the softest kiss you could to his lips and not mess up your pristine makeup, you flashed him a grin before turning around to show him your dilemma.
âItâs stuck. I canât see the problem, and Natâs face told me pinning wouldnât work.â
Steveâs warm fingers brushed against your skin as he inspected the ornery zipper. He tugged gently, but the stubborn slider refused to budge. Another tiny rip of the delicate fabric reached your ears a moment before Steve raised apologetic eyes to yours in the mirror in front of you.
âNatâs probably right, sweetheart, butâŠâ
His brows knitted together as he continued to stare at your current predicament.
After several seconds, his brows smoothed and his gaze met yours once more. Inspiration had hit him in a way that never fails to take your breath away. Always the man with a plan, he didnât hesitate in coming up with some unique solutions to even the most basic of problems.
âYou still have your emergency sewing kit in your purse?â
You nodded.
He stepped away and picked up your purse. His gaze met yours for permission before he opened up the main flap. Always the gentleman. His hand felt around the few contents until it encountered the little tin he sought. The same little tin you inherited from your grandmother after she passed a few years ago. You never failed to update the kit with threads for whatever outfit you and Steve wore that day from your rather vast collection of sewing threads.
As he held up the little tin with a small triumphant grin, you thanked whatever gods were listening that youâd remembered to update it that morning with what youâd need for your evening attire as well.
âStay perfectly still for me, sweetheart,â he murmured after threading the needle with the necessary thread and stepped behind you again.
You did as he asked. It took everything in you not to peek over your shoulder to see exactly what he was doing. Instead, you had to settle with feeling his fingers brush against you now and then, sending delicious shivers down your spine even as he worked diligently at your dress.
After what felt like an eternity but couldnât have been more than five minutes, he tied off the thread and snapped the extra with little effort. Turning you so your back faced the mirror, he nodded towards his work. âWhat do you think?â
It took a bit to get the right angle and see what heâd done.
When you did, you couldnât help the gasp that slipped past your lips. The stuck zipper remained in place, but the rest of your dress had been perfectly and almost seamlessly stitched closed. Only some nosy person would notice the zipper wasnât all the way up with the way Steve had stitched your dress closed. You could barely make out the stitches he placed.
Meeting his gaze in the mirror, you blurted, âWhere did you learn to sew? How did I not know this about you after all these years?â
Steveâs cheeks flushed at the awe in your voice.
âWe didnât have a lot of clothing options back then as there are today. My ma worked hard to provide me with what she could. I used to watch her doctor clothes for my smaller frame whenever she could afford to get me something new.â
His gaze took on a wistful expression as he remembered his old life and his mother.
You turned so you could rest your hands on his chest, offering him what comfort you could. He didnât talk about his past as often as you thought he should, but you never pushed him, either. Not wanting to miss out on this new opportunity, you remained quiet.
A small grin spread across his features as he indeed continued.
âWell, I wasnât one to take precautions with my clothes, either. Most of us boys didnât. I probably shouldâve for my maâs sake, but I always got myself into one scuffle or another as youâre aware. Most often, Iâd end up with a rip in either my shirt or pants. Sometimes, both. Not wanting to upset my ma, I used the little bit of knowledge Iâd gained by watching her to start mending my clothes myself. It was better than asking her to do more for me when she was already doing so much.â
His grin softened as more memories seemed to surface.
âMy first attempts were awful, but then, boys didnât typically do what they considered girl chores back then. I got better over time. I even helped Bucky out a time or two when he needed it. Some way, I guess, to repay him for always looking out for me, too. It was better than the tongue lashing he wouldâve gotten from his own ma for getting me out yet another bind.â
Unable to resist the desire, you rose up and pressed another soft kiss to his lips.
âWhat was that for?â he asked though his eyes glowed with warmth and a mirrored desire.
You brought one of your hands up to cup his cheek as you whispered, âJust because youâre you.â
As you moved to lower yourself, Steve followed you until he leaned into your space and took a swift but no less chaste kiss for himself.
âI love you, too, Mrs. Rogers.â
The two of you gathered up the rest of your items for the evening, including the masks you had made to match your outfits.
After all, the party was a masquerade. Tony had declared it so when he announced wanting to throw a holiday party for the Avengers and other important guests. At least, he left you, Pepper, and Nat to work out all the other details to make this night a spectacular one. It would certainly be one to remember after all your hard work and theirs.
As the two of you walked towards the elevators, a thought struck you.
Turning your head to look at your husband, you asked low enough so any others wouldnât overhear, âHow exactly am I getting out of this dress later?â
The smirk youâve come to know and love appeared on Steveâs face. He helped you onto the elevator as the doors opened. His arm came around you as he held you close to his side. Only as the doors were closing did he bend down to whisper, âDonât worry about that, sweetheart. Iâve got a plan that will not only get you out of that dress but will satisfy us both before the sun comes up tomorrow.â
His lips skimmed along your neck until he reached the spot where it met your shoulder. A slight stinging nip of his teeth sent a tingling shiver down your spine. The promise clear in his action as his hand tightened at your waist.
The party, while an amazing success of your hard work, paled in comparison to the hours after where Steve lived up to his sensual promise in the elevator. It would be a night you wouldnât soon forget.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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