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#pre serum steve rogers x reader
marie-swriting · 11 months
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A Respectable Man - Steve Rogers
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Marvel Masterlist
Summary : You're currently walking home while you try to get rid of a man who has been pestering you for a few minutes, fortunately near you, there's another man who hates bullies.
Warnings : pre-serum Steve Rogers, set in the 40's, street harassement, fighting, police officer not listening to reader, fluffy end, maybe some grammatical mistakes as English is not my first language, tell me if you see some or if I missed any warnings !
Word count : 3.1k
French version
You’re currently walking home whilst you try not to show your annoyance to the man next to you. He hasn’t been leaving your side for the last ten minutes although you’re not showing any ounce of interest in what he’s saying. At first, you had replied to his “hello” out of courtesy, but you hadn’t planned on having a conversation with him, or anyone else for that matter. You just want to go home in peace. However, according to him, your mutism indicates you’re interested in his stories. Since he arrived, you try not to show you’re being uneasy, however if one paid attention to you, they could tell you’re wishing you were far away from him.
You don’t dare voicing he’s bothering you, worried about his potential reaction. Nonetheless, you change your mind once he sets his arm around your shoulders. At that point, your patience reaches its breaking point. You try to break the embrace, only causing him to tighten his grip on you.
“Pardon me, but could you let me go, please ? We don’t know each other.”
“We can rectify that, doll face.”, he affirms with a crooked grin, “Let’s get to know each other better, let’s go dancing tonight !”
“No thanks.” you refuse outright, hoping he’ll leave you alone.
“Why ?”
When you hear his protest, you prevent yourself from sighing in frustration. Why do you always have to justify your ‘no’ ? Can’t he see he’s bugging you ?
“I can’t.”
“Oh, playing hard to get, I see. Like it.”, he mutters with a cocky look on his face, “Come on, doll face, you aren’t gonna regret it. Take a chance on me, you’ll see, I’m the man of your dreams.”
This time, you lightly roll your eyes, visible enough to show your irritation, yet not enough for him to notice, apparently. Furthermore, his pet name, ‘doll face’, is slowly getting on your nerves. He doesn’t know you, yet he acts as if he could do everything he wants with you. Understanding he’s not about to give up, you think of a lie and pray it’ll work.
“Unfortunately for you, I already found the man of my dreams. I’m engaged.”
“Weird, I don’t see any rings on your finger.” the man retorts, pointing at your left hand.
“It’s,” you start while thinking, “it’s because the ring my fiancé offered me is not the right size. It’s a family heirloom and we need to bring it to the jeweller to alter it. Also, I’m currently on my way to meet my fiancé to do it. If you’ll excuse me.” you finish before trying to leave but he comes in front of you.
“Let me walk you, doll face. Like that, I’ll be able to check if he exists, ‘your fiancé’.”
“I’m telling the truth.” you snap.
“No need to get all angry, smile a little ! Come on, a dame like you needs a man, you can say it, you need to be protected.”
“I don’t need protection, thank you. Leave me alone, now.” you state and attempt to get away again when he grabs your arm.
“You, women, are all…”
“Hey ! She told you to leave her alone.”
After hearing a voice behind you, you and the man look above your shoulder and see Steve’s frail body, making you happy in an instant. You might not know Steve, but if he can help you get rid of the man in front of you, you’ll happily accept his help.
“Who the hell are you ? Don’t tell me that is your fiancé.” the man asks, showing Steve and offending you at the same time. 
“Actually, he is. Is that a problem with you ?”
“Doll face,” he scoffs, “your fiance is 147 pounds of pale skin and fragile bone. With one blow of wind, he’ll fly away as he doesn’t have any muscle in him. He’ll never be good enough for you, he's not a real man.”
“Physical strength doesn’t matter to me.”, you retort, completely angry, “I’m with my fiancé, who is real as you can see, so leave me alone now.”
“She told you several times to leave her be, so you should go.” Steve insists, standing next to you.
“Listen, shorty, this is a conversation between me and her. She’s attracted to me, she doesn’t want to admit it ‘cause she pities you.”
“Yet, I feel like she’s been trying to get rid of you for the past five minutes, if not more.”
“Women are all the same, they always pretend they don’t want you when they do.”, the man justifies as if it was obvious, “I mean, how could you know ? By just looking at you, I can tell women don't pay attention to you.”
“I forbid you from telling him this kind of thing !” you yell.
“I’m just stating a fact, doll face.”
“Stop calling her that, she’s not an object. You should leave.”
As he’s talking, Steve stands in front of the man, becoming some kind of your personal shield. Despite the height difference, Steve doesn’t show an ounce of hesitation in his body language. The man rolls his eyes before setting them back on Steve with an annoyed look on his face.
“I’m getting sick of you, shorty.”
Without having the time to react, the man hits Steve in the face. You scream when you see his body falling on the ground. With difficulty, Steve gets back on his feet and gets in position, ready to attack the man. He tries to punch him however the man grabs his collar and throws him on a shop wall nearby. Some people passing by stop in their tracks, watching the scene without doing anything. Panicked, you look around, searching for help when you see a police officer walking down the street oblivious to what’s happening a few feet away from him. You run to him and call him. The officer turns around and frowns as he hears the fear in your voice. You explain to him briefly there’s a fight and point to where it is. He doesn’t answer you and runs to Steve and the bully. He separates them by holding the man back whilst you crouch down in front of Steve. You put your hands on his wounded face. You look at the several cuts and nascent bruises. Steve tries to smile to reassure you but your eyes are still full of worry. You help Steve to stand up and apologise to him profusely at the same time.
“What is going on here ? Explain yourselves right now, sirs !” the policeman demands.
“It’s not his fault.”, you answer, pointing at Steve, “He came to help me because this man”, you add, showing the one he’s holding, “wouldn’t leave me alone, despite my complaints. He’s the one who hit first.”
“So, what has happened ?”
You’re astounded when you hear the police officer repeating the question, you just explained to him the situation.
“Like she said,” Steve starts, “she needed help so I intervened.” 
“There he goes with his fancy words, “she needed help”. She was flirting back ! He just ruined everything.”
“I don’t think her saying ‘no’ several times meant she was flirting back.”
“Enough !” the policeman interrupts, “Young man, you’re coming to the police station with me.”, he says, tightening his grip on the man, “As for you two, you are free to go. Show’s over.”
The improvised audience goes about their business again whilst watching the officer dragging the man behind him, this latter keeps unleashing his irritation toward you and Steve. You try to not pay attention to it, especially when you hear the various insults thrown both at you and Steve. You need a minute to regain your composure, still in shock the situation worsen this fast. Once you’re breathing normally again, you set your eyes on Steve and see him trying to wipe away some blood dripping off his nose. You take your handkerchief from your purse and give it to him. He accepts it and cleans it as best as he can.
“Is everything okay ?” Steve asks you and you look at him with your eyes wide open.
“I should be the one asking you that ! Your face is all wounded.”
“Don’t worry about me.”, he dismisses, “Do you feel like going home on your own or you wish I walk with you ?”
“I’ll be okay, thank you.”
“Very well, so I shouldn’t be bothering you much longer. Enjoy the rest of your day, miss.” he bids you goodbye before starting walking away.
“Wait ! You don’t think of walking home alone, do you ?”, you hold him back, going next to him, “God only knows how much this man hurt you, I wouldn’t want you to lose consciousness on your way. I’m walking with you.”
“You don’t have to.”
“I insist. After all, it’s my fault you got hurt. It’s the least I can do to thank you…”, you justify, leaving your sentence up in the air so he can tell you his name.
“Steve Rogers.”
“Y/N Y/L/N. Nice to meet you, despites the circumstances.”
At first, you start walking in silence. You don’t know how to start the conversation, embarrassed you’re the cause of Steve's wounds. As for him, he doesn’t know what to say, having little, to not say none, experience with women. He tries to put himself in Bucky’s shoes, hoping to find the right words while respecting your boundaries, wanting to avoid doing like the other man. Finally, you’re the one who breaks the silence a few minutes later.
“I apologise for the whole story of you being my fiancé and all. I just needed something to back up my lie.”
“It’s okay.”
“I hope you don’t give too much to what he told you, by the way.”
“You mean when he said I don’t have any muscle ? He was telling the truth.”
“When he said you weren’t a real man.”, you specify, “It’s this kind of man who isn’t a real one. They always act tough, act as if they knew better than us about what we want when they’re not even able to understand the meaning of ‘no’. Contrary to him, you understand it, it should be the bare minimum to do, but I don’t know a lot of men who pay attention to what we say. Besides, you came to help while others would have looked away.”
“I’m sure, if it wouldn’t have been me, someone else would have come.” Steve contradicts you.
“I doubt it. This kind of situation has happened to me several times already and every time, I have to handle it alone. And as you could see, some police officers don’t take us seriously before another man backs up our story. So, sincerely, thank you for coming, although I’m sure you’re regretting it now.”
“I would have come either way. I hate bullies. I couldn’t stay put without doing anything.” he affirms genuinely. 
“We’d need more men like you, Steve.”
Once you finish your sentence, you’re finally at his. You stay at his apartment block entrance, an awkward silence taking place again. Steve ignores if you want to come into his home with him or if you want to leave right away. As for you, you don’t know if you can leave him here or if you can accompany him to his door without having him think you’re a mother-hen. Observing Steve with attention, you realise you find him pretty cute. You wish you could get to know each other better. You’re about to say something when an unknown voice beats you to it.
“Hey, punk !”
Instantanely, you get tense, fearing the appearance of another man looking for trouble. Noticing the change in your posture, Steve reassures you.
“Don’t worry, it’s only my best friend.”
“Oh, okay.”
“What is it, jerk ?”
Bucky is about to retort something when he sees Steve’s face. He sighs in frustration and rolls his eyes.
“Don’t tell me you caused a fight.”
“It’s my fault, actually.”, you intervene, “A man didn’t want to leave me alone and Steve stepped in.”
As soon as he sees you, Bucky can’t help but do his best charming smile.
“For once, it was for a good reason, then. Bucky Barnes, miss.” he introduces himself and kisses the back of your hand.
“Y/N Y/L/N, nice to meet you. What do you mean by ‘for once’ ?” you question him, confused.
“Steve, over there, has the bad habit of always looking for fights.”
“You shouldn’t do it, Steve. You’re better than that.”
“Thank you !” Bucky exclaims with an insistent look in Steve’s way. “I hope he’ll finally listen to reason.”
“Do you need help to clean your wounds ?” you ask Steve with a worried look.
“No, thank you, I can do it. You should go home, you made a detour to bring me back home.”
“Very well, then. Again, thank you, Steve. If there’s anything I can do to pay you back, don’t hesitate.”, you announce with a smile, “Have a nice evening, take care.”
You nod in Bucky’s direction as a goodbye and leave the two men. Steve looks at you walking away whilst Bucky analyses his best friend’s face. A knowing smile takes place on his visage as he realises you caught his eyes. Once Steve can’t see you anymore, he turns his attention back to Bucky. He frowns when he sees his friend’s facial expression.
“What ?”
“You’re totally smitten by her.”
“Not at all.”, Steve contradicts, “I helped her like I would have done with everyone else.”
“That, I can believe, you’ll cause a fight just because someone would be breathing too loudly, but I had never seen you looking at a woman like that before.”
“She’s pretty, I can’t deny it, but that’s it. Besides, I could look at her like that, like you said, the fact is she probably wouldn’t do the same.” he affirms, the man’s words echoing in his mind, in spite of himself.
“You clearly didn’t pay attention to her eyes. I’m sure if I hadn’t come, you would have even gotten a kiss on your cheek before she goes. She almost didn’t pay attention to me.”
“Yeah, sure.”, Steve laughs, not believing it, “Anyway, let’s go home. I need to take care of this.” he finishes pointing at his face.
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A week later, you’re in front of Steve’s door. You’re holding an apple pie you made earlier. You make sure your tart and outfit are perfect before knocking. You tighten your grip on your pie, worried about Steve’s reaction. When he appears in front of you, he’s surprised at first to see you, then he smiles fondly. As for you, you can’t help but look at the evolution of his wounds. His black eye is almost healed and his other cuts are more or less visible. You clear your throat before speaking.
“Hello, Steve,” you start, embarrassed, “Sorry to bother you, I just wanted to come and thank you properly, for last time, so I made you this.”, you inform, holding the tart to him, “I’m not an unparalleled baker but my pies are usually pretty good.”
“You didn’t have to do it, your ‘thank you’ was enough.”
“Maybe, but I wanted to. I hope you’ll like it.”
“I’m sure of it.” he assures you.
“I have to go. I hope I’ll see you around to have your opinion.” you smile.
“I hope, too.”
Without thinking, you take a step forward and press your lips against his left cheek. Taken aback, he doesn’t react. You smile at him one last time before leaving, waving at him whilst Steve stays on the doorstep. He doesn’t move for a minute until Bucky appears behind him with a taunting smile on his face.
“You had it, your perfect opportunity to ask her out on a date.”, he specifies, making a reference to an old conversation, “Well, while I wait for you to come back on Earth, I’m gonna take this,” Bucky adds, taking the pie from Steve’s hands, “and taste it.”
Surprisingly, Steve doesn’t react, still thinking of your lips on his cheek. Bucky has the time to go back to the kitchen and take a knife before Steve snaps out of it and forbids his friend to touch his pie.
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You went to give your pie to Steve two weeks ago. Since then, you haven’t seen him again. You don’t delude yourself. You met Steve by accident for the first time and he doesn’t know your address so your only option to see him again would be to go back to his place although you don’t want to appear as the clingy girl. Therefore, you're pretty sure you’ll never get to know him properly.
You’re walking to the bookshop near your place when you hear someone trying to catch your attention. Guessing it must be some random man, you only roll your eyes and keep walking. However, when Steve is in front of you, panting, you stop in your tracks. Steve starts breathing normally slowly whereas you look at him, worried, and notice there are only one or two wounds on his face you can see at first sight. When you’re sure he’s okay, after he stands up straight again, your eyes are full of joy.
“Steve, I hadn’t noticed you over there !”
“It’s okay. I should have known you wouldn’t turn around when you’d hear my voice. I just wanted to tell you, your pie was delicious.”, he confesses and you smile. “I even had to hide it from my best friend to make sure I’ll eat it entirely.”
“If he wants to, I can bake him one. Glad to know you liked it.”
Looking at Steve more closely, you see he has something else in mind, but he doesn’t dare to tell you.
“Is this everything you wanted to tell me ?” you interrogate with a soft voice.
“No, actually.”, he answers before not saying anything for a second, “Listen, I know we don’t really know each other, but I wanted to ask you if you’d like to go to the movies with me someday. Obviously, you can decline ! You don’t have to say ‘yes’.”
“I’d be happy to.”, you state, making him smile, “There’s a screening tomorrow, in the evening, would you want to go to that one ?”
“Perfect.”
Quickly, you open your bag and take a pencil and a piece of paper. As soon as you finish writing, you give it to Steve.
“This is my address.”, you explain as he takes the paper, “You can come pick me up at six P.M. ? This way, we could go to a café before going to the movies.” you propose, hopeful.
“I’ll be there.”
You want to kiss his cheek again, yet you don’t do anything, the presence of the people walking by holding you back. You only smile at him warmly before walking away, your stomach filled with joy because, on top of seeing him again, you got a date with a respectable man.
Marvel Masterlist
{This is my side blog so I'll be answering comments under the username @marie-sworld}
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gothgirlmahi · 2 years
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Not A Day Goes By: Chapter One, 1936
Pairing: Pre-Serum!Steve Rogers x Reader
Warnings: None for now, will update every chapter.
Chapter Summary: Steve Rogers is the love of your life, but neither of you know it yet.
Word Count: 3.3K
Masterlist: Coming Soon
Special thank you to @fictional-affairs for plotting with me over pre-serum Steve ideas and everyone else in the Smut Hub discord that inspired me to write this series.
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November 17, 1936
You hadn’t really known much about Steve Rogers prior to his mother dying. He was your neighbor, the same age as you and you’d gone to high school together but had never talked much. Both of you were barely 18 by the time Sarah Rogers passed. Your own mother had gone the year before, so you could empathize with what he was going through. After your mother died, you could barely bring yourself to leave the house and you knew that Steve was probably feeling a similar way, despite the whole strong and silent demeanor he was trying to give off.
Even you could admit you’d been bothering the hell out of that poor man since his mother died last month. Nothing too bad, you just wanted to make sure he was fed and taking care of himself. You knew he had a laundry list of ailments and while he seemed to be managing well enough, you supposed that everyone needed a bit of help. God knows you needed help when your mother passed, but at least you had your older brother to lean on. Steve didn’t have any other family that you knew of.
You put on your jacket to walk the short distance to his door, with a dish holding part of the casserole you had made a little earlier. It was still was warm from the oven but not enough to burn you or him when you would hand it off.
When you knocked, Steve yelled out for you to hold on a moment. You adjusted and gripped the casserole dish firmly in your arms before the door came swinging open to reveal a rather flustered looking Steve Rogers. He looked a bit shocked to see you. You weren’t sure why, considering you’d been coming over damn near every other day for the past month.
“Sorry to bother you, Steve. I cooked supper and, well, Michael and I can’t eat all of this. So I thought I’d bring some over to my favorite neighbor.”
Steve gave you a smile before graciously taking the plate.
“That’s real nice of you. I appreciate you looking out for me, but you don’t have to cook for me every day.”
“Is my cooking that bad?”
“Oh, no! It’s just, you don’t need to go out of your way for me.”
You wrung your hands together nervously. You didn’t want to put him off with what you said next.
“I’m sorry, Steve. I’m not trying to smother you. It’s just your ma was a real good woman and I know what it’s like to go through that. And you’re stubborn and don’t want anybody’s help just like Michael was and…Michael had me and I had him and you’re in there by yourself and I just want you to know I’m here. You know I’m not trying to throw pity at you because I hated when people did it to me. I just want you to know that you’re not alone and if you ever do want help, I’ll do whatever I can.”
“You shouldn’t be wasting your time on a punk like me.”
You crossed your arms and gave him a stern look.
“Don’t tell me what to do with my time, Steven. If I want to spend it bringing you supper ‘cause you don’t have the sense to feed yourself half the time, then I’ll do that.”
Steve couldn’t help but smile at what you said. He nodded.
“Yes, ma’am.“
The sound of footsteps interrupted you all and the two of you turned around to see a familiar face. You recognized him as Steve’s friend that lived a couple blocks away. You remembered him from high school but he’d been a year older than you, so you hadn’t been too familiar with him. What you did know was that he had girls swooning over him left and right which you could only assume left him with the biggest head on the planet.
Bucky greeted both of you by name, leaving you a bit shocked that he even remembered yours. He stood beside you, leaning on the railing just outside of the door. You took his appearance as your cue to leave.
“Hi,” you said a bit dismissively before turning back to your neighbor, “Steve, I’m gonna head home before Michael gets back. Just knock or slide a note under the door if you need anything. And there’s a little rip in your jacket, maybe you’ll let me sew that up for you tomorrow, yeah?” You said all this as you were walking back to your door.
You turned back to see Steve nodding.
“I would really appreciate that. Have a good evening. Thank you for the food!” You gave him a wave before shutting yourself in your apartment.
Once you were gone, Bucky whistled. Steve fumbled with the dish in his hands before turning around and letting Bucky into his apartment.
“Wow,” Bucky said, plopping down on the old couch, “your neighbor is pretty. You should ask her out.”
Steve looked horrified at the prospect. He sat the dish you gave him down on the kitchen table before fixing his best friend with an unimpressed look.
“Absolutely not. She’s just being nice because of my ma. You’re probably more her type.”
Bucky scoffed.
“She didn’t even look in my direction. I might as well have blended in with the flower pot out there. She only had eyes for you, trust me. Isn’t she friends with Dot? We could all go out together. It’ll be fun.”
“Are you insane? I’m not asking her to go out. She never goes out.”
“And how do you know?”
“Because I never go out. My bedroom wall is against her living room. She just stays in and listens to records.”
“So she likes music. We can all go dancing.”
“We? So I can make a fool of myself? Forget it.”
“I’m just saying, no dame is bringing food over everyday just because she feels sorry for you.”
December 1, 1936
You did not like the cold. And wouldn’t you know, today was exceptionally freezing. Although your heater was on and working, it still didn’t seem to be doing much to cut through the frigid air. It was early, much earlier than you were used to being up on a weekend. Michael was still fast asleep and you could hear him snoring lightly from his room. Your mind was on something else, though. You’d heard a noise next door and just couldn’t get yourself back to sleep.
Your mind was on Steve. You heard him coughing.
You knew he got sick easily. It was no secret that he wasn't exactly the sturdiest fella around. He was practically deaf in one ear, asthmatic, had some sort of problem that made his spine bend a bit in the wrong direction and looked like a stiff breeze would take him down. You just wanted to check on him.
Wandering through your living room at six in the morning, you shivered in your robe as you listened through the wall. Invasive? Maybe. But you were concerned. And the walls were thin, which really wasn’t your fault.
Steve coughed a few more times, sounding like he was hacking up a lung. The poor thing. You’d have to go over there. Knowing him, he’d likely sit and stew in his illness for days on end before asking for help. Well, he certainly wouldn’t have to ask now.
You hustled to your kitchen, taking a couple ingredients from the pantry and the icebox. You’d make your neighbor a nice broth to drink, something that would soothe his throat and be easy on his stomach. And you’d bring over some tea. And maybe some crackers too just so he’d have something solid in his system.
By the time you had gathered all your wares into a basket and gone over to Steve’s door, it was a bit past 7 in the morning and the sun was just rising. You knocked and hoped he would answer.
A few seconds later, you heard a muffled and strained “hold on” followed by the sound of feet shuffling to the door, the clicking of locks, and finally the door opened.
Steve Rogers looked horrible and half dead, answering the door in his pajamas and looking the worse for wear. You nearly dropped your basket at the sight of him and had to fight the urge to bust in his apartment and turn it into an infirmary.
“Hi, Steve. I was up and you didn’t sound so good. So I brought you over a few things. If you don’t mind, could I come in?”
Steve’s face was flushed from whatever illness he had and as an apprehensive look took his features, you knew you might have to do some convincing.
“I appreciate all of this so much, but I don’t wanna get you sick,” Steve said, barely able to keep in a cough as he did so.
“Oh please, you know I work at the pharmacy, right? I’ve got a sturdy constitution. I’ve seen much worse. I’ve got some things for you, let me at least set them out.”
Steve nodded and moved aside so you could come in.
You had only been in Steve’s apartment a handful of times. From what you could see, it was laid out similar to your own. The front room was a nicely sized living space with the kitchen off to the back. To the left were two bedrooms on either side of a hallway with a bathroom beside the smaller room. As you were led through the apartment, you realized Steve’s room appeared to be the smaller room, as the door was open and you could see a bundle of blankets haphazardly thrown on a bed. You could only assume the other bedroom had been Sarah’s. The door was closed, so you couldn’t test your assumption, not that you really wanted or needed that confirmation.
He led you into the kitchen where you sat your basket down and began unloading everything you brought him. Steve was looking on in curiosity and horror with all of the things you brought. You moved around his kitchen like you lived there, grabbing a bowl to dish out some of the broth you made while Steve weakly hung onto the doorway and watched.
“You should sit down. You’re not gonna get any better wearing yourself out and running around.”
“I’m just standing here,” he argued.
“And you need to be just sitting somewhere. Or better yet, laying down.”
Steve plopped himself down in one of the kitchen chairs, before crinkling his nose and and sneezing into his elbow. You had tissues at the ready, fresh from your basket and handed some to him. He thanked you.
“You’re welcome. Drink this.” You slid the bowl of broth over to him and he looked up at you.
“Are you gonna have some, too?”
“What? No, I—umm…”
“Watching me eat doesn’t sound like much fun. Did you eat breakfast?”
“No, but I can eat when I go back home.”
“I dunno. You brought a lot of that broth. I think it would be nice for us to eat together.”
You folded your arms and nodded before grabbing a bowl of your own and filling it with broth. You sat opposite him at the table.
“I don’t know if that was you being sweet or being difficult.”
Steve shrugged.
“I like to think I can be good at both.”
That got a hearty chuckle out of you. It was definitely true. 
You and Steve ate in silence for a bit after that. Every once in a while Steve would let out a horrendous cough that made you want to piggyback him to the nearest hospital. Once the two of you were done and you had collected both of your bowls to wash (with some pushback from Steve and insistence that he could wash them) you heard the front door to his apartment bust open and frantic footsteps ran into the kitchen.
It was Bucky, out of breath and holding a paper bag in his hands. He gave a short greeting to you before he fixed Steve with a glare.
“I’ve been ringing you all morning, punk. Your phone not working?”
“I unplugged it. Because you’ve been ringing me all morning.”
“Well that’s not going to work,” Bucky said before leaving the room. Peering out of the door, you could see he was in the living room, plugging the phone back in. When Bucky was back, he shook around the paper bag in his hand.
“I’ve got medicine. I’ve got food. I’ve got—“
“It’s like I’m in a hospital,” Steve cut in. You shook your head.
“It’s actually much worse because you’ve got two personal nurses and one of them lives next door,” you said. Bucky nodded in your direction.
“She gets it.”
December 25, 1936
You weren’t especially excited for Christmas. Especially not since your mother passed. Even before then, you never celebrated and mainly spent the time leading up to it dodging invites to this and that church from neighbors. Mrs. Wilson downstairs was especially adamant that you came to the Christmas Eve service at her church, but you knew that was mainly because she wanted to set you up with the preacher’s son.
There was no word in the English language that could describe how little you wanted to meet the preacher’s son.
You spent the day like you did any other day off, lounging around the house and listening to jazz. Taking the occasional sip of whiskey just to liven things up and swaying your hips to Duke Ellington in a tipsy trance. Your brother had done all of his drinking earlier and promptly passed out on the couch, leaving you to enjoy the afternoon alone.
A knock on the door caught your attention. You downed one more shot before answering.
“Who is it?”
You heard a groan to the side of you and realized you woke your brother up with your yelling.
“It’s Steve!”
You opened the door.
Steve was there, bundled up against the December chill, with two parcels in his hands. One was a basket filled with baked goods and other little food items. The other was a gift wrapped package.
“Hey, Steve. Come on in.”
“Thank you,” he said. When he entered, he placed the package down on a table in the living room before taking his hat off. He gave a greeting to your brother, who gave a sloppy wave back before flipping over on the couch in his drunken stupor.
Steve smiled. The tip of his nose and ears were tinged red and you couldn’t help but notice how it was a pretty look against his pale skin.
“It’s lively in here. Merry Christmas.”
“Merry Christmas, Steve. To what do I owe the pleasure?”
Steve held up the basket of baked goods to you.
“This is from Mrs. Wilson. She wanted me to give this to you on my way up.”
You took it and looked around inside. A few muffins, some cookies and a fresh loaf of bread were in there along with a card. It looked absolutely delicious and much better than anything you could bake yourself. Between the two of you, you and Michael could demolish this in less than a day under the right circumstances. After you set the basket down on the dining room table, Steve was already handing you the wrapped package.
“And this is for you.”
“For me?”
“Yeah. A Christmas gift. From me.”
You took it, a big smile taking your face.
“Steve, you didn’t have to get me anything.”
“I wanted to. It’s not much, just something I thought you’d like. I know you don’t really do much on Christmas but I thought I’d just bring something over.”
You set the package down and hugged him tightly. You heard his breath hitch when you made contact but you only squeezed him tighter. He placed his arms around you to hug you back and to steady himself.
Okay, maybe you were veering towards more drunk than tipsy.
When you pulled back, you pressed a kiss to his cheek which made him blush furiously. He was adorable.
“You’re just the sweetest thing. Do you want anything to drink, I—“
As you turned around towards the kitchen, you nearly tripped over your own feet and Steve’s hands came around your waist to steady you. When you turned back, he was still blushing and took his hands away as soon as you were upright.
“Maybe you ought to sit down. And I can grab you a glass of water.”
“Yeah!” you yelled out, taking his hand and pulling him with you, “let’s sit in the kitchen!”
You wobbled unsteadily as soon as you stopped in the kitchen and Steve pulled out a chair for you and gently guided you to it. He grabbed a cup and poured you a glass of water from the sink.
You took it gratefully and sipped, putting most of your concentration into not dropping it.
“Did’ya go to church with Mrs. Wilson?” you asked as he sat opposite you. He nodded.
“Yeah. She told me you said no. Several times. Said she wanted us both to go.”
“Steve! If I’d known you were going I would have gone.”
“Huh? Really? Why?”
You took a sip of your water.
“You ask so many questions. I think you’re swell. I like spending time with you obviously.”
Steve looked taken aback.
December 26, 1936
You woke up the next morning with raging headache. A glass of water set on your bedside table next to an aspirin. You took the aspirin and downed the water before venturing out of your room and into the bathroom.
You were still in your clothes from yesterday and could probably use a shower. Preferably after the bright lights stopped causing stabbing pains in your head.
While taking your empty cup to the kitchen, you were stopped by your brother in your way, with a smug smile on his face and his hands behind his back.
“Hello, little sister. It’s time we have a chat, yeah?”
You rolled your eyes.
“About what, Michael?”
He presented a gift wrapped package to you from behind his back.
“You never opened your gift from Steve.”
“Oh.”
“And why didn’t you tell me you thought he was so swell? You went on and on about that fella after he left. With the way you talked about him, I damn near started to have a crush on him.”
You snatched the package from him and ran back to your room. You heard him laughing behind you.
Plopping down on your bed, you took a look at the gift. It was perfectly and beautifully wrapped and you wondered if Steve had done it himself. When you pulled the paper off, it revealed a brown box.
Pulling off the lid, you were shocked at what you saw. On top was a sketch of you. Sitting at a table and swirling a spoon around a bowl. Maybe meant to be when you visited Steve when he was sick? The sketch was detailed and beautiful. Soft lines against the planes of your face made you look prettier than you thought you were. Your head was thrown back in a laugh.
You set the sketch on your bedside table.
Under the sketch was a candle. You put it to your nose and smiled. It was cinnamon and vanilla scented, smelling suspiciously like the perfume you used. Hmm.
Steve Rogers was full of surprises.
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bookishtheaterlover7 · 6 months
Note
I miss that adorable smol presurm steve HES SO CUTE . What if he got Deserumed and his Short s/o whos (a example 4'11) is at awe and just at awe at him . If steve dare degrade himself she lets him know he loves him regardless of physical but personality . Then when he gets comfy with it . Oh man Double Trouble according to bucky
Both little shits XD within reason
Again! You guys have THE best ideas!!!
My writer's block could never...
But seriously this is so sweet and adorable, and the chance to write some angst, which is really appealing to me right now 😏😉🤭, and the chance to go chaotic on causing chaos for Sam, Bucky and the others🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣
BONUS:
We love pre-serum!Steve🫶
And I'm all for representing our shorter, but mighty fans🤗 Anon, I'm honestly looking forward to writing this. So, thank you! And I will keep my asks open for more asks/prompts, because this and y'all are honestly awesome, and I'm LIVING for it🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰
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literaryavenger · 22 days
Text
Birthday Kiss
Summary: It's Bucky's birthday and he decides to spend it with his best friend, Steve, and Steve's little sister, you.
Pairing: 40s!Bucky Barnes x Rogers!Reader, Brother!Steve Rogers x Sister!Reader
Warnings: Angst. Idiots in love. Fluff. Vague mentions to sex. Language 'cause I can't help myself.
Word Count: 3.4K
A/N: Since it's almost Bucky's birthday I wanted to celebrate it with my first fic with 40s Bucky! He's one of my favorite Buckys and I've been wanting to write about him for a while and I finally got this idea! Hope someone enjoys it! In my mind this happens like a year before Captain America: The First Avenger, so Bucky is turning 25, Steve is 23 and the Reader is 21, but you can always imagine any age you want. As always, any ideas for fics are appreciated!
Masterlist
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You enter the room to see Bucky is hanging out in yours and Steve's apartment, like he always does, sitting down at the window, smoking a cigarette and reading the evening newspaper while a football game plays on the television in the living room and Steve sits on the couch, drawing on his notebook.
You're used to Bucky being here, he's your big brother's best friend and you've come to be very close friends with him too, even if you wished there was more.
As clichè as it is to have a crush on your brother's best friend, you couldn't help it. He was handsome and funny, and he's always sweet and protective of you. You've known him since you were 9 years old, and he's the only family you have left other than Steve.
"Is this really how you're going to spend your birthday?" You ask Bucky as you sit on the couch next to Steve.
Bucky turns around towards you with a bright smile, his blue eyes lighting up as soon as he sees you, like they always do whenever he's around you. He stands up and walks over to you, sitting down on your other side and pulling you into a side hug.
"Hey, doll. I didn't think you were gonna be here today." He says, although he seems more happily surprised by your presence than disappointed.
"I live here, Barnes." You tease him with a smile. "Unlike you."
He rolls his eyes playfully as Steve snickers next to you while he keeps drawing. "I know that. I meant, I thought you were gonna be out with your friends tonight."
"I didn't feel like it." You dismiss him quickly, not wanting to actually say out loud that you'd rather spend his birthday with him doing nothing than go out with your friends, so you try to casually change the subject. "I thought you'd at least want to spend today with Dot."
Dot isn't actually Bucky's girlfriend, they've been on a few dates and you've seen them together a couple of times, but Bucky introduced her to you as a friend so you don't think they're that serious. Not that Bucky ever is, girls are always all over him and he takes advantage of that, he's a ladies man. But you try not to worry too much about his love life, not wanting to hurt yourself more than knowing Bucky will never see you like that already does.
"Well, I wanted to spend my birthday with my favorite pair of siblings. She can give me my birthday kiss tomorrow." He says with a grin while ruffling your hair. "So... What's been going on with you lately, doll? Anything interesting happening in your life?" He asks curiously after a pause, genuinely wanting to know more about your day-to-day activities and experiences.
"I... Well, I went on my first date." You say shyly while playing with the edge of your dress.
Bucky's eyes widen in surprise, his interest piqued by your sudden confession. "First date? Who was it with? How'd it go?" He asks with what seems like excitement but mentally preparing himself to potentially become jealous or possessive no matter who you mention.
"It was fine..." You say quietly, still not looking at him. "It just wasn't... It wasn't what I was expecting..."
Bucky senses something off in your tone and expression, and immediately becomes concerned. He places a gentle hand on your knee, trying to comfort you without making it too obvious. "What happened, doll? Did things not go as well as you hoped they would? Are you feeling okay?" He asks softly, trying to gauge whether or not you want to open up about what happened during your date and if there's anything he can do to make it better.
You don't really know how to answer his question, so you don't, simply glancing at him before looking away and shrugging.
"Tell me what happened, I'm here for you no matter what. If that guy hurt your feelings or made you uncomfortable, I'll kick his ass for sure." He promises fiercely, his protective instincts kicking into high gear whenever you seem vulnerable or upset.
You giggle weakly at his protectiveness but still don't look at him, so he takes your chin gently but firmly and makes you look at him. "Tell me what happened on your date. Was it some creep who tried to grope you or something worse? Because if he did, I swear to god I will find him and break his fucking legs."
"That's not it, Bucky." You say quickly. "It's just... He just... He wasn't..." You. He wasn't you. That's what you want to tell him, but you can't, so you sigh and shrug again. "He just wasn't my type."
Bucky knew what was your type. He knew he was your type, he has seen you ogle him countless times when he walked past you or sat near you at the bar.
He also knew that you had never shown any interest in any of the men who approached you, always dismissing them as not good enough for you. Or at least that's why he thought you did.
Glancing at Steve before looking back at you again, Bucky says quietly. "Well, that's too bad for him I guess."
"It doesn't matter, I'm not seeing him again." I say quietly, avoiding both Steve and Bucky's eyes.
Bucky's brow furrowed in confusion, he couldn't believe you were so quick to give up on a potential relationship just because the guy didn't live up to your impossible standards.
"Doll, you gotta give guys more of a chance. They ain't all as bad as you seem to think they are." He scolds you playfully, but there was also a hint of underlying irritation in his tone as he takes a long sip from his beer bottle.
You glance at him before looking away again. "So... You think I should go on another date with that guy?" You ask quietly.
Bucky thought for a moment, weighing the pros and cons of pushing you to go on another date with the mystery guy. "Yeah, actually. I mean, if you think he's worth giving a second chance, then why not? And if he turns out to be a total dud again, then at least you can say you gave it a shot. But only if you're really sure he's worth your time though. Don't waste it on some loser who doesn't appreciate everything you have to offer." He advised you, trying to strike a balance between being supportive and challenging you to take risks when it came to relationships. "But whatever you decide, don't let me pressure you into doing something you don't want to do. You've gotta follow your heart, doll."
"You know, Stevie doesn't care this much about who I date, and he's my older brother." You tease Bucky while glancing at Steve.
Bucky snorts in amusement, "Yeah well, I'm not your brother, sweetheart, but I'm your friend and your wingman, and I'll be damned if I'm gonna sit back and watch you throw away a potential chance to be happy. Now come on, make up your mind already. Are you gonna give the guy another chance or not?" He pressed, playfully but determinedly.
You look at his face for a moment before looking away again and sighing. "I'm not." You say quietly but firmly. "I'm not going on a second date with that guy." You clarify.
Bucky felt his jaw tighten a little as he realized that you had completely ignored his previous suggestion and were instead deciding against giving the guy a second chance. He didn't like the idea of you potentially missing out on something good due to your own stubbornness, but he also knew that he couldn't force you to do anything you didn't truly want to do.
"Well, fuck. Guess that settles that then," He said after a moment of silence, trying to hide his disappointment but failing miserably. "You're really gonna just throw that opportunity away? Fine, suit yourself, I guess. But don't expect me to hold your hand or anything when you get sad because you're alone. You're on your own with that shit."
"I guess I am." You say quietly before getting up from the couch and going to the window, climbing into the emergency staircase to go up to the roof, like you do most nights to watch the stars.
Bucky watches you leave, feeling a mix of frustration and concern as he realizes that you're retreating to your usual spot on the roof rather than staying and talking to him.
He wants to call after you, to make sure you're okay, but he knows better than to push you if you need time alone.
Instead, he takes a deep breath and tries to focus on the present moment, reminding himself that sometimes people need space and time to themselves.
"Fine. Have it your way," he calls after you, knowing that there isn't much else he can do in this situation. "But don't think for a second that I won't be keeping an eye on you up there. You better not try anything stupid."
You roll your eyes but don't stop, going up to the roof, that's right above yours and Steve's apartment, and sitting on the picnic blanket you and Steve use every night.
After a few minutes someone else comes to the roof and you can tell it's Steve by the light steps. "You sure you want to let Bucky alone in our apartment, Stevie? I'm afraid he might burn it down." You joke weakly without turning around to look at him, your eyes locked in the city's skyline.
Steve chuckles and you can feel him sitting down next to you. It's not the first time you sit together on the roof, everybody in your apartment building knows this is the Rogers siblings' spot.
You don't say anything and neither does Steve, and you're especially glad he doesn't say anything when he sees a tear falling down your cheek but simply wraps his arm around you as you lay your head on his shoulder.
"What's going on in your head, little sis?" Steve asks you after you stop crying.
You try to gather your thoughts, trying to find a way to make sense of everything swirling in your head. You take a deep breath before you pull away slightly and turn your head towards the city again. "What should I say?" You ask quietly.
"When?" Steve asks with a frown.
"When I love someone?" I clarify looking back at him.
"You should say it." He tells you firmly. It's not the first time you've talked about this, Steve knows about your feelings for Bucky and like a good big brother he always tells you to express yourself. "You should tell him."
You sigh and look away from him and back to the New York skyline. "I don't know, Stevie..."
"Why not, Bambi?" You smile softly at his use of your childhood nickname because Bambi is your favorite book, but then you shake your head.
"Have you seen the way he looks at Dot? I have no chance with him. I'm not his type." You say with conviction.
"You really don't see it?" Steve asked, getting a little frustrated.
"See what?" You ask confusedly while looking back at him.
"The difference between you and her is that he looks at her like she's the prettiest girl in the world," Steve says and your heart sinks so you look away from him, but he still goes on. "but when he looks at you it's like... It's like maybe you're magic. He looks at you with such reverence and respect. He looks at you like if he could just have you in his arms, everything would be okay. Like if he had you, nothing could touch him. He looks at you like he just realized what love is."
Steve pauses and grabs your chin gently to make you look at him before finishing. "He loves you. Anyone can see that. You're just too blind to notice it."
Steve kisses your forehead and then gets up and goes back inside to the apartment, leaving you to think about everything he said.
You lay down on the picnic towel on the ground of the roof and look up at the stars. Could Steve be right? Does Bucky really love you back but you just haven't noticed?
If Bucky had feelings for you, certainly you would've noticed. Yes, he's protective of you and he's always happy to have you around, but you've been friends for over a decade and he is your brother's best friend, so he probably sees you as just that, his best friend's sister.
But he never did treat you like Steve's annoying little sister. Even when you were kids he always tried to include you in their games and literally held your hand whenever the three of you went somewhere, like the park a few blocks over.
He would always coo on you when you got any scrapes while playing and kiss your boo-boos away. He's always been very sweet to you and he stood up for you as much as he did for Steve whenever someone bothered you.
But could that really be actual love? Or is it just affection for a girl he's known since you were little and sees as his own little sister?
You rub your eyes before putting your hands behind your head, getting comfortable while looking at the sky full of stars.
In the meantime, Bucky heard everything from the window of your apartment. He couldn't deny the truth of what Steve had said, he did look at you with a sense of reverence and respect, like you held the key to unlocking his heart and making everything else in his life fall into place.
But he also knew that he had to tread carefully, to approach you in the right way or risk scaring you off completely.
As much as he wanted to take control of the situation and make things happen on his terms, he knew that he needed to let you come to him, to give you space to process everything that Steve told you and to allow you time to realize how much you actually mean to him.
As Steve climbs back into the window, he gives Bucky a pointed look and a pat in the back, silently encouraging him to talk to you.
Bucky takes a deep breath and then climbs into the stairs, getting to the roof but not getting any closer to you. He's determined to talk to you, but his nerves are getting the best of him.
You can hear Bucky coming to the roof, but when he doesn't move closer you frown slightly but think he's just giving you a moment before sitting next to you.
When he stays put for a couple of minutes, you roll your eyes and with a small smile you say "You can come lay down next to me, if you want." Loudly enough for him to hear, your eyes never leaving the stars above you.
Bucky's heart skips a beat as he hears your invitation, and without hesitation he steps forward and drops down onto the towel beside you.
You can tell he's trying to keep his movements quiet, not wanting to startle you or disturb your peaceful contemplation. He lays there quietly for a few moments, taking in the sight of you lying there so effortlessly beautiful, before finally speaking.
"You have no idea how much I wanted to hear those words coming from your mouth," he whispers and moves closer to you, placing one arm around your waist and resting his head on your shoulder, feeling incredibly vulnerable by the fact that you were so physically close and you were allowing him to get even closer. "Thanks for letting me do this," he added, indicating the embrace.
"It's not the first time we've watched the stars together, Buck..." You whisper back, resting your head on his while willing your heart to stop beating so fast.
Bucky smiles softly, feeling a warm sense of contentment wash over him as he wraps his arms around you, feeling incredibly grateful for this moment of intimacy between the two of you.
He could feel the gentle weight of your body against his, and it felt like the most natural thing in the world. He listened to the sound of your breathing, feeling his heartbeat slow down as he took comfort in your presence.
"Yeah, it's not the first time... But it feels different tonight." He whispered back, feeling a newfound confidence and boldness coursing through his veins. He moved even closer to you, pressing his face against your neck and inhaling deeply, savoring the scent of your skin. "I've always... I've always wanted to hold you like this."
"I... I always wanted you to..." You whisper back hesitantly and bite your lip when he presses his face against your neck, almost scared to move, worried that if you do it'll ruin the moment.
Bucky feels a surge of pleasure course through his body as he hears your response, knowing that you too cherished these special moments with him.
When you don't say anything at his physical contact he continues to hold you tightly, feeling a deep sense of connection growing between you.
He presses his lips against your neck, gently kissing and nibbling on your skin, feeling a newfound desire burning within him that he had never experienced before.
He wants more than anything to take things further, to remove your clothing and explore every inch of your body with his hands and mouth, but he forces himself to remain patient and wait for your signal that you actually want something more intimate.
"You know... I've always been afraid to show you how much I really care about you," he whispers into your ear, his voice barely audible over the sound of the city below them.
"Steve thinks you love me..." You say quietly, hoping to god that your idiot brother is right for once in his life.
Bucky freezes a little, feeling a mixture of relief and surprise wash over him. He's surprised at your boldness but so relieved that the truth is finally out there.
But he also knows you well enough to know that if he wants you to truly believe that he loves you, then he has to act quickly to prove it to you and make sure that you never doubt his feelings again.
"Yeah... I do love you, Doll. More than anything else in this world. And I'm sorry that I didn't say it sooner... But I was afraid to lose you." He admits quietly, as he takes your face in his hands.
"You really mean that?" You ask quietly, a mix of hope and uncertainty clear in your voice.
"I do." He says without hesitation while he looks at your beautiful face turned towards his. "And I want to spend the rest of my life showing you just how much I care about you."
The smile that comes to your face is so bright that it feels to Bucky like the sun suddenly came up in the middle of the night.
"I know you already gave me a birthday gift," He says, referring to the jacket you gave him this morning. "But can I ask you for one more?"
You're definitely curious about what he wants so you nod. "Sure, what is it?"
"Can you give me a birthday kiss?" He asks quietly while brushing a strand of hair aways from your face and behind your ear.
You blush a little and can't help but smile because he wants a birthday kiss from you, not Dot or any other girl, and you nod slowly as you start leaning in.
Bucky meets you halfway and when your lips touch it feels like fireworks, your stomach filling with butterflies while he brings you closer to him while deepening the kiss.
After a few minutes you both pull away for air, breathing heavily while looking at each other. "Wow." Is all he says after a moment.
You giggle and bite your lip. "Happy birthday, Bucky." You say softly and give him a kiss on the cheek before settling back against him, your head on his chest as you look up at the stars.
Bucky wraps his arms around you, kissing the top of your head and then relaxes while looking up too, more content than ever to finally have you in his arms.
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syntheticavenger · 5 months
Text
love him madly - part three
Notes: It's been two years since I updated this fic. Sheesh!
Pre-Serum Omega! Steve Rogers x Alpha! Female Reader
Previous: Two
divider by @firefly-graphics
Word Count: 2.6K
Warnings: Language, workplace harassment, small bit of angst/jealousy, fluff (it’s not my strong suit but I’m trying so that’s a warning).
Summary | After being given your hoodie, Steve wonders if all Alphas are the same or if he’s just lucky enough to find one of his own.
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Steve isn’t sure that if you’re aware that he knows you’re not asleep. Your breathing is even but he can see the slight tilt of your face, the way your eyelashes flutter open and closed for a breath of a second before you close your eyes again, the soft hint of a smile on your lips.
His hind brain knows.
Alpha feels safe.
More importantly, he’s tucked against you, your warmth and scent making him sleepy, but he doesn’t want to succumb to sleep. Steve knows that you’ll silently slide out of his bed and back to your apartment, under the guise of not wanting to wake him up. 
He can’t blame you for wanting to be mindful.
His mating gland itches and he suppresses the urge to scratch it, not wanting to move as you stir. As it stands, he’s already thinking of how he can get you to stay for the rest of the day.
“How long have you been up?” you ask him, his blue eyes widening at your inquiry, lifting his head off the pillow.
“How did you know?”
“You keep touching me,” comes your reply, your voice thick with sleep. Steve can hear the smile in your tone. “Like you’re touching something fragile in a museum.”
“I was not,” Steve protests with a slight laugh, feeling his cheeks burn with embarrassment. “I just wanted to make sure you were comfortable. You kept kicking off the blankets.”
“It’s hot,” you remind him. “My body temperature always runs warm.”
Covering your mouth as you yawn, Steve knows he shouldn’t stare but he can’t stop looking at the slope of your nose, your cheekbones and perfectly shaped mouth. Every bit of you he takes in as if he’s looking at you for the first time.
“Are you going to stay for a little?”
The words come out almost too easy, too quickly for him to try to take back but it doesn’t matter. He’s happy. Happier than he’s been in months, even if he knows he’s being greedy and taking up your time.
“I shouldn’t stay,” comes your reply, the sadness in your voice making him lift his head up.
“Why not?”
At your silence, Steve rests his head against your back.
“You don’t always have to run away.”
“I’m not,” you answer, swallowing hard as you go still.
“This is your place too.”
His hand reaches over, taking yours in his.
“If you want it to be, that is,” he continues. “No pressure.”
The silence is unnerving at first, Steve waiting with a bated breath for your answer until you exhale a breath that he’s sure you’ve been holding.
“I do.”
-
“You seem happy.”
Sharon’s comment seems harmless enough but you’ve known your employer long enough to understand that she doesn’t deal in niceties.
“Do I?” you counter, Sharon looking over your shoulder at your work.
“Been on time. Early,” she points out. “Must be that little skinny Omega that came by. Didn’t think you’d be the sort who would be bothered with such an interesting guy.”
The irritation creeps up from your gut, your mouth shut so you don’t bare your teeth at her in response. There’s a small hint of jealousy in her voice, you can hear it – see it when she inhales deeply, her eyes closing.
“How close are you with this Omega?”
“Does this pertain to my work, Sharon?”
Your question floats awkwardly in the small space, her fingers tapping on the back of your chair. You’ve been so good with keeping your cool but you know something has fundamentally changed. She’s too close, too curious for her own good.
“You were in rut, weren’t you?” she inquires, changing the subject as quickly as she flips her blond hair over her shoulder. “Suppressants? I heard those are bad for you, you know.”
“No,” you reply, your voice laced with anger. “Did you need anything?”
“There’s a big meeting coming up with one of our big clients. I want you there. Your work is good and you listen to my ideas. This could be pretty lucrative for you. If you play your cards right, I mean,” Sharon hints, moving away from you. “Come up with some designs for Pepper Potts. You’ve heard of her, right?”
The yoga entrepreneur worth over a billion dollars isn’t exactly known for her soft demeanor but she’s an Omega and that means a big market.
“I have.”
“Good. She’s introducing a whole new line of yoga products. I mean a new app, workout clothes, meditations, you name it. Give me some good logos I can showcase for her. We can present it together.”
Sharon lingers at the door, giving you a glance.
“I know you won’t mess this up.”
Nodding, you awkwardly nudge your chair closer to the desk, her scent hanging in the air.  Once she’s gone, you fully intend on scrubbing any trace of her off of you, your nose wrinkling at the way she tapped against your chair.
Regardless, you have to keep it professional, especially now that Pepper Potts is involved. All it takes is one logo and you could move onto a better design firm.
A fresh start. 
And away from Sharon.
-
Lugging your bag up the steps is no easy feat, the dimly lit stairwells hurting your already tired eyes. The soft lure of Steve and his charm made you forget to stop at the store, your key sliding into the lock to open the door. Surveying your apartment, you know you need to clean, clutter piled up from past promises of wanting to keep it tidy. 
Your bag slides down on the couch while you pick up the random empty boxes, cleaning off the small table that you once promised yourself that you would always eat dinner on but never have. For a moment, you wonder if Steve would come over, sit at this table and eat and be the first – maybe last – person to do so. It’s a depressing thought, one that only spurs you into throwing more trash into the big trash bag.
It doesn’t take that long to make your living room and kitchen look livable, your stomach gnawing and growling in response to the neglect throughout the day. There���s nothing that sounds remotely appetizing, opening your fridge to find a gallon of orange juice, half a carton of eggs and some yogurt.
Fighting back the urge to call him, busying yourself with opening the cabinets and selecting an instant ramen package seems like a better excuse to leave him alone, checking the expiration date to keep yourself occupied.
Watching water begin to boil isn’t fruitful and neither is continuously checking your phone to see if you maybe have a missed call from him.
It feels silly, trying to deny the fact that you have an inclination to want to talk to him. It’s never happened before, this weird sense of attraction where you want to hear about his day. Even if all he did was sit in his pajamas and watch TV, you want to know, want to ask about what he thought about doing but maybe didn’t accomplish. Most Alphas would have gone with their instinct, to just call and not overthink it. But here you are, pushing the dry noodle square around with a fork to get it to soften, trying to pretend you don’t want to hear his voice.
Almost as if he hears your thoughts, your cell rings, picking it up on the first ring.
“Alpha,” Steve greets, his greeting nearly a question. “Everything okay?”
“Yes. Why wouldn’t it be?”
“Oh, I… well, you haven’t called me,” Steve murmurs. “I thought maybe you were working late.”
“No, just came straight home and started cleaning.”
“Cleaning? I thought you were mad at me.”
“No. Why would I be?” you question, wondering why he would ask such a thing.
“I don’t know,” he sighs. “I just thought you were working late and then it’s just that you went home and started cleaning. Big date?”
You snort, submerging the noodles into the boiling water with your fork.
“No big date. I’m making instant ramen and going to bed.”
“Oh…”
You go quiet, unsure if you said the wrong thing.
“What’s wrong?”
“Did you have a bad day?”
Mentally, you don’t want to revisit the day you had but since Steve asks so sweetly, you decide to indulge him.
“You could say that. Sharon wouldn’t leave me alone today, hung out in my office to talk about nothing and -”
“She was hanging out in your office?” Steve huffs.
“For a bit.”
“Are you going to bed right after?”
You look around your kitchen. The dishes need to be cleaned and the stove wiped down when you’re finished. You could clean the bathroom while you are at it.
“No.”
“I’m coming over.”
“Steve, you can’t,” you protest, hearing shuffling in the background. “It’s late and you know where I live. It’s not safe.”
“You’ll protect me.”
“Steve, wait a minute.”
The line goes dead, and you try to call him back, getting his voicemail immediately while you grit your teeth. You aren’t in the mood to fight anyone if they get close to him but you’ll do it of course.
Pouring the ramen into a bowl and placing it on the counter, you find yourself nearly running down the stairs after, dodging the grumpy Alphas that make their way to their doors.
By the time you get outside, the cold feels like sharp needles against your face. It doesn’t matter though, not at the moment. Surveying the nearly empty streets, two wayward Alphas glare at you while they make their way down the street. You return the same energy, not backing down, watching them continue their conversation until they are out of your sight.
A car slows near you, your fingers rolling into tight fists until you see a familiar form getting out of the car, waving the driver away.
He doesn’t stop until he reaches you, his blond hair disheveled while he tries to fix it.
“Steve, what are you doing?”
“You sounded sad.”
“So you drive all this way because I’m sad?”
“I didn’t drive,” Steve corrects. “I got a ride.”
He hugs you tight, your arms going around him as he rests his head against you.
“You still smell like her,” Steve mumbles into your shirt.
“I know. I was going to shower. Not a fan of it?” you tease lightly, Steve looking up at you, his mouth formed into a frown.
“No.”
“You can’t think that I was happy about it, right? She’s my boss.”
“She’s an Omega.”
“What?” you ask, shaking your head. “She’s a Beta.”
“I can scent it.”
You find yourself brushing back a lock of his blond hair, blue eyes shining as your tap his lips gently with your finger.
“I’m not interested in Sharon,” you tell him, the urge to soothe him overwhelming. “Never.”
“Promise?” he asks hopefully.
“Of course I promise. Do you really think that I would want her on me when I have someone so amazing like you and -”
He silences you with a kiss, his lips on yours, soft and warm. As soft and innocent as it starts, you can’t help yourself and you deepen the kiss, enough for him to whimper against your mouth until you break the kiss.
“Steve, this is… not outside. You’re freezing,” you tell him, slipping off your sweater and placing it around his shoulders. “Did you eat yet?”
“No,” Steve says sheepishly. “I came right over.”
“Stubborn little Omega,” you admonish gently, guiding him up the stairs. “My place is a mess but you’ll stay here tonight.”
You go silent, realizing what you’ve just said, Steve blinking in response.
“I mean, I think you should stay here tonight,” you correct yourself quickly. “You, um, don’t have to if you don’t want to. I can call an car for you again or walk you home.”
“You mean I can stay here tonight?”
Fishing your keys out of your pocket, you nod.
“My place is your place,” you say, Steve’s little gasp of surprise making you turn your head to look at him.
“Do you mean it?”
“Of course I do. I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t.”
Steve gives a short nod, watching you open the door to your apartment.
When he steps in, he looks around and you find yourself nervous, trying to shake off the feeling. It’s your place and you even gave him a disclaimer but he seems more curious than anything. He spies the still hot ramen on the counter, peering over at it.
“Why don’t you sit at the table? I can bring it to you.”
“But that’s yours,” Steve protests. “What will you eat?”
Opening the cabinet, you show him a stack of the instant ramen.
“I, uh, don’t really have the time to go to the grocery store so I live off of these sometimes,” you say quietly with a shrug. “I have orange juice or water too.”
“Water is fine.”
Placing the bowl and a bottle of water in front of him, he studies your face.
“This is perfect, you know,” Steve replies with a smile. “It’s warm in here, it smells like you and if instant ramen is for dinner then that’s fine as long as you’re here eating it with me.”
You can tell he’s waiting for you until you turn the stove back on.
“It’s okay, you can start without me. It’ll be a whole five minutes before my food is ready. How was your day?”
Steve sighs, blowing on the ramen while he twists the fork into the bowl.
“Slow day. Sometimes I’m doing a lot of things and today was just not one of them. I had this great idea to go to the library because I love reading, you know? But then I couldn’t find my library card and then I realized it’s been so long since I’ve been that I wouldn’t know where to look and then I got distracted so no books and still no library card.”
He seems a little disappointed before he perks up again.
“Do you have a library card?”
“Me? No,” you answer. “I kept meaning to get one.”
“Let’s get them together.”
You don’t have the heart to tell him you don’t have the time to read books as much as he does but it’s fine. If he wants to go to the library, you will make time out of your schedule to do it.
“Then it’s a date.”
“You mean it?” Steve asks with a hint of a smile. “That means I get to recommend you all sorts of books.”
“I think I’m up for the challenge.”
He chews his food for a moment before he swallows, looking around your apartment.
“You have a lot of records,” he points out. “How many do you think you have?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe like sixty? I haven’t counted in a while.”
“Sixty!” Steve exclaims. “We need to organize them.”
“When I have the time.”
Steve waves you off with his hand.
“I can do it.”
Tearing open the packet of seasoning and sprinkling it into the pot, you take it all in after a moment. 
Steve eating at your table, talking about his day and already trying to visually organize your apartment. Not wanting to risk ruining the moment, you simply place your bowl down next to him with your bottle of water.
“Steve?”
“Yes?”
“I’m glad you came over.”
His cheeks turn pink as he ducks his head down, twirling his fork again.
“Me too, Alpha.”
157 notes · View notes
urdepressedslut · 1 year
Text
I wanna be yours
♡ Pairing: 40’s!Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader, 40’s!Pre-serum Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader
♡ Summary: You were childhood friends with Steve and Bucky. You had always had a small crush on Bucky. But now as your older, you realize that harboring a crush on Bucky is hard. Especially watching him flirt with girls that aren’t you.
♡ Warnings: very cheesy, angst, fluff, mentions of alcoholism, mentions of parent death
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Smoothing down her dress, she took a last look at herself in the mirror. She was excited to finally go out with her boys, things had been rough at home with her dad, resulting in her seeing Steve and Bucky less.
Switching off her room light, she was flying down the stairs, catching herself from falling by the last step.
“Quit running down the stairs, ya gonna crack ya head open one of these days.” Her father announced from the couch.
“Sorry daddy, just excited.” She giggled, fidgeting with the end of her dress.
Standing up, he set down the whiskey bottle, walking over to her.
“Where ya going?” He asked her, receiving an eye roll.
“Dad, I told you this morning.. I’m going to the Stark Expo thing.”
“Oh yeah..” He muttered, scratching the back of his neck for forgetting. “When ya gonna be home?”
“I don’t know, I haven’t seen them in awhile— I wanna spend some time with them.” She said solemnly, not wanting her father to feel guilty for being the reason why.
“By them, you mean Steve and James?” He asked with a raised brow, not particularly fond of his daughter hanging with those boys.
“Steve and Bucky.. yeah.” She corrected him, slipping on her boots.
“I don’t like em.” He mumbled, uninterested and heading back to his spot on the couch.
“You never did.” She huffed, walking towards his sitting form.
Her body sagged at the sight of him nursing yet another bottle, grimacing she straightened her posture and slapped on a fake smile.
“I gotta go, love you daddy. I won’t stay out too late.” She promised him, giving him a quick peck on the cheek.
“Yeah.” He breathed out, letting his gaze focus on the wall in front of him.
She knew her mother passing would be extremely difficult for him, they had loved each other wholeheartedly, truly made for one another. He had gone downhill mentally, killing himself slowly with the aid of alcohol. Nights on end she’d find him passed out, bottle never scattered too far away from his limp grasp. And it was always the same, he’d feed her empty promises that it would never happen again.
She would never disregard his feelings, but she had lost her mom too. She never had time to fully process her mothers passing, having to babysit her almost always drunk father. All she knew, was that she shouldn’t be living her youth like this. But she could never leave her father.
Feeling the familiar burn in her nose, she took a deep breath, trying to keep her emotions locked away. Not wanting to ruin this night, plus she didn’t want to mess up her makeup.
____________________________
Half walking, half running, she was eagerly trying to make her way to her boys. When suddenly, a loud crash alerted her. Walking closer to the alley behind the theater, she spotted Steve in a defensive stance, while a much larger man laughed, winding his fist back.
Ignoring she was outmatched, she sprinted, jumping on the mans back, slapping the sides of his face harshly.
“Hands off him!” She shouted.
Taken by surprise the man grunted from the impact of their bodies colliding, wincing as his skin stung from the hard smacks. Growing annoyed, he reached behind his head, grabbing a fistful of her hair and swinging her around to his front, finally getting a glance at his attacker. He smirked disgustingly, pulling her closer.
“Well, I sure do like a girl with some fight.” He practically growled into her ear.
Thrusting her knee up into his crouch, he released her immediately, stumbling back into Steve who caught her. Doubling over, he hissed angrily, straightening back up to face the two.
“You bitch!” He spat, ready to advance towards them.
Steve quickly shoved her behind him, throwing a wobbly punch towards the man, only for him to catch it and strike him across the face, sending him back into the trash cans face first.
“Hey!” Bucky shouted, pulling the man by his sleeve towards the alley entrance. “Pick on someone your own size.”
(Y/n) seeing the bully was taken care of, she kneels down to check on Steve.
“Stevie, you okay?” She asked worried, grabbing his chin and tilting his head side to side, checking the damage.
Steve embarrassed, gently pushes away her hands, making her frown.
“I’m fine.” Steve tells her, not making eye contact.
“What were you thinking?” She hissed, angry at him putting himself in danger.
“Oh yeah, I just love getting beat up (Y/n).” He spat back.
“Can you just not get in a fight for one day?”
“Can you just shut up?!” He shouted, while (Y/n) was taken aback.
“Hey, that’s enough!” Bucky stepped in finally. “Steve, come on man. She cares about you.”
Steve felt his anger fade at the sight of (Y/n)‘s saddened form. He felt bad for being mean after not seeing her for a long time.
Bucky gave Steve a look, turning to (Y/n) fully.
“You alright doll?” Bucky asked her softly, lifting her chin with his fingers, making her cheeks heat up.
She loved it when he called her that.
“Yeah, I’m good buck. Just a tender scalp.” She replied, rubbing the back of her head, soothing the sore skin.
Bucky smiled at her toughness, pulling her into a bone crushing hug.
“I’m sorry, (Y/n).” Steve spoke.
“It’s fine Stevie.” She assured him, not wanting to drag out the argument.
When he pulled back, it dawned on her (and Steve) that he was in uniform. And he looked so damn handsome.
Steve and Bucky were talking back and fourth, while (Y/n) was practically drooling over his new look. Taking him all in head to toe, and she realized that him like this was doing things to her.
It only took a few extra seconds for her to realize what this meant, and her face dropped.
Before she could comment on her concerns, Bucky had pulled Steve and her to his sides.
“Gotta get Steve cleaned up, doll.” Bucky told her, watching her cheeks grow red.
“Where are we going?” Steve asked him.
“The future.” Bucky said cryptically, making (Y/n) and Steve laugh.
________________________
(Y/n) was shaking with excitement, getting time with the boys, going to the Stark Expo. The night was going great, until it wasn’t. Bucky had brought along two girls, dates for both him and Steve. She was offended at the audacity, spending his night with two random strangers. She missed when it was just them three.
Yes, she realized that Bucky couldn’t read minds and he had no idea of her feelings for him. But that didn’t stop her from being upset, she did however try her best to not let it show.
Unfortunately the girl Bucky had brought along for Steve wasn’t interested, and instead clung to Bucky. Now having two girls swooning for him. The girl holding hands with Bucky squealed in excitement, pulling Bucky along to watch the show ahead. Leaving Steve and (Y/n) behind, dragging their feet.
“Yup.. this is so much fun.” She mumbled, trying to come up with an idea.
“What’s wrong with you?” Steve asked, offering her popcorn from his bag.
“Thanks.” She grabbed some, “It’s just.. why did he have to bring.. them.”
“No idea, but she definitely doesn’t like me.” Steve said, keeping his head down.
“Ignore her Stevie, she doesn’t realize how awesome you are.” She told him, making his scoff.
“But that can’t be the reason why you’re in a mood.” Steve said blankly.
“Sure it can.”
“No, it’s something else.” He insisted, making (Y/n) roll her eyes.
“Definitely not.” She fired back, her eyes locking with a handsome stranger from far away.
“Mhm.. you’ve got that look you get when you have a bad idea.” Steve pointed out.
“Okay just this once.. you may be right.” She agreed, but wanted to follow through.
_____________________
Bucky was talking with the two girls, aware that (Y/n) and Steve had wandered off. He didn't want to ditch the girls, but all he really wanted was to spend time with his two friends. Thinking about it, (Y/n) had been off ever since he introduced her to the girls, and it made him wonder.
Just as Bucky was about to excuse himself, to try and find his two friends. He spotted (Y/n) walking over, her arm hooked with a random guys.
She had watched Bucky's face go from confused to annoyed in a second, making her smirk deviously.
"Hey Buck, mind if we join you guys?" She asked, suddenly all happy and willing to hang with the girls. Bucky tried to force a smile while he glared at the man.
"Who's this?" Bucky asked her, raising his brows.
"Oh right, this is Danny." She told him.
"My names actually Don." The guy corrected her shyly.
"Same thing." She muttered, kicking the side of Don's leg.
Bucky watched the interaction between the two with a confused look, was he was missing something?
"Hey Sarge, can we go dancing?" One of the girls asked, batting her eyelashes. Making (Y/n) clench her teeth.
"Of course. (Y/n) you wanna join?" Bucky asked, side eyeing Don.
"We, would love to." She said a little too harshly, emphasizing the we, making sure he got the point.
Bucky nodded, still confused at her behavior. Had he done something wrong? He didn't understand the switch up. What he was sure of on the other hand, was that he did not like Don touching her.
Before she could walk away, arm in arm with Don, he stopped her.
"Hey (Y/n), can we talk?" Bucky asked her, watching her defensive posture melt and she nodded, excusing herself from Don.
Making their way to a more secluded spot, (Y/n) was the first to speak.
"Can we hurry this up.. uh, got a hot date waiting." She said, trying to sound uninterested with wherever this conversation was going.
"What's going on doll? You've been acting…off." Bucky started with, not sounding like himself. She's never thrown herself at guys like that, and he didn't like it.
"I'm not, just found someone I might like." She told him, crossing her arms over her chest.
"You barely know the guy's name." Bucky argued, watching her cheeks grow red from being called out.
"So? You barely remember the names of the girls you've been with." She shot back, seeing Bucky be taken aback.
Bucky had it hit him there, she was jealous. He tried not to smile, but he couldn't help but think how adorable she looked, at all her effort in trying to make him jealous. Which kind of worked.
"Are you jealous doll?" Bucky teased, watching her swallow and her cheeks grew a deeper red.
"Hell no, and don't call me that." She told him, her heart beating erratically.
"Doll, what's going on?" He asked her again, but less teasing and softer.
(Y/n) took a deep breath, knowing that if she was ever going to tell him, it best be now. She didn't want to wait for him to get back from war, or worse... never get the chance.
"I don't like that you brought those girls around… okay?” She started, looking down at her boots, kicking pebbles around.
Bucky lifted her chin, urging her to continue. Swallowing nervously, she decided this was it. No going back, this could ruin their friendship.
"I wanted to be your date... I wanna be yours." She quieted down at the last part, embarrassed. She knew he most likely didn't feel the same way, and from his silence, her eyes started to water.
"(Y/n), can you look at me." Bucky asked her finally, his heart breaking at the sound of her sniffle.
She inhaled deep, her bottom lip quivering, buried emotions deciding now was the best time to show. But otherwise looked up and met his steel blue orbs, ones that held no judgment.
"I’m sorry for never saying anything, guess I was confused too. But you’ve always had me wrapped around your finger, hate that I didn’t see it sooner.” He confessed, keeping her gaze in a gentle, affectionate hold.
“You want me too?” She asked shyly, not believing what she was hearing.
“Doll, I want you… all of you.” He told her, stepping closer, wrapping his arm around her, pushing on her lower back. Their fronts meeting, she faintly gasped.
“I don’t want you to leave me.” She whispered, a tear escaping through her lashes, but was quickly wiped away by Bucky’s thumb.
“I don’t want to either, but I promise I’ll come back to you.” He declared, pulling her shaking form even closer. “Now i’ve really got something to fight for.”
With a sad smile, (Y/n) stood on her tippy toes, giving Bucky a lingering kiss on his cheek. Making his stomach flutter with excitement.
“Now, why don’t we find Steve and get out of here.” He suggested, wrapping his arm around her waist, keeping her trapped against him.
“What about the girls?”
“Don’t worry about them. Plus i’ve got my girl right here.” He told her, watching her cheeks grow red again, which he would never get over. Loving the effect he had on her.
“And Don?” She teased, earning a chuckle from him.
“Don’t care, you’re mine.” He told her, giving her an adoring look, loving the way he could say she was his now.
Deep down they had always loved each other of course, but now it was something fathomless. They had already gotten a crumb of what things could be like now, and they craved more.
A/N: poor don deserved better😭 thank you for beta reading @foreverrandomwritings 💕
558 notes · View notes
angelbaby-fics · 1 year
Text
Daddy's Baby Day
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Pairing: Cg!Bucky x Little!Reader x Flip!Steve
Word Count: 820
A/N: It ain't much but its honest work! No really, it feels really good to finish something again!! I was sort of unsure about writing one of my cg characters as little for the first time & I'm still not totally sure if I'm very good at it but I just thought this idea was so cute & my little 40s boys have been heavy on my mind lately 😌💕 Enjoy! And I love you guys!!! 💕💕
You and Bucky were sitting on the floor, building castles with your wooden blocks, when you both heard the front door slam. The bang of the door into its frame sent your tower tumbling to the floor, but you only giggled at the chaos. You were in a good mood that day; Steve, however, was not.
Steve immediately stormed into his and Bucky’s bedroom, slamming that door as well. You looked up at Buck with worry in your eyes, but his comforting smile let you know he’d make sure everything was okay. Bucky got up and knocked on the bedroom door, while you remained on the floor, monitoring the situation from a distance. When the door opened slightly and Bucky slid in, you inched closer to try and hear the conversation from behind the now again closed door. You couldn’t hear very well, but from what you could gather, Steve had once again been underestimated for his stature, and he came home feeling dejected and insecure, like he did on far too many days.
You knew how he felt. Being little, many people often assumed you couldn’t do things for yourself, that you always needed help. You didn’t really mind, though, you liked being helped out, especially by your daddies. But Steve wasn’t little, he was a caregiver, so instead of feeling comfy and calm when someone tried to assist him without asking first, it made him feel helpless and small.
‘That’s it!’ you realized.
Maybe being small is exactly what Steve needed. He spent so much of his time working hard to prove himself, denying help and pushing himself just for the sake of others. That’s how you’d felt before finding yourself in the care of Steve and Bucky, so maybe that’s what Steve really needed; not help, but care.
Confident in your reasoning, you got up from the floor and set off on a mission. In your bedroom, you had a little basket of all sorts of pacifiers, as your daddies liked to spoil you. You grabbed one, a blue one with stars that you thought Steve would like, as well as one of the soft blankets from your bed, and made your way to your daddies’ room. You could still hear them talking as you approached, the stress obvious in Steve’s voice as Bucky tried to calm him down. You knocked softly, but they couldn’t hear you, so you quietly let yourself in. The tension in the room immediately dissipated as soon as Steve and Bucky saw you enter.
“Hiya, angel,” Steve said, exhaustion radiating from him. Despite this, he still held his arms out for you, never letting his caregiver persona falter in front of you. For now.
You reached up with the pacifier, attempting to put it in Steve’s mouth for him.
“What’s this, baby?” Steve asked, subtly dodging the pacifier and taking it in his hand instead.
“Paci makes me feel better. Maybe it helps daddy feel better too?” You responded.
“Aw, thank you sweetie, but daddy isn’t a baby like you.” Steve said with a hint of sadness in his voice.
“Well… maybe daddy can be a baby if you want to. Daddy can have a baby day, too.”
“Daddy can’t be a baby, he’s gotta take care of you, huh?” Steve chuckled, mussing up your hair.
“That's what Baba’s for! Baba takes care of baby AND daddy-baby! Right Baba?” You asked, pleading eyes staring holes right through Bucky’s heart. And to his surprise, Steve was looking at him just the same way.
Bucky started internally kicking himself. How many times had Steve secretly needed this and didn’t have the courage to ask? How many times had Steve been on the verge of regression himself, but never gave himself the permission? The love Bucky felt for you was the same love he felt for Steve; the most important thing to him was knowing that the both of you felt that love.
“Of course, my little loves!” Bucky replied, placing a hand on each of yours and Steve’s cheeks.
You could see Steve smile softly as he let himself relax, even just a fraction. Regression was new for him, despite having these feelings in the back of his mind, he’d never let himself entertain them. Steve quickly realized he felt lost, the combination of being little and being inexperienced in this littleness setting in at the same time, both of them building on each other. Steve’s smile dropped, and his cheeks flushed bright red.
“I-I don’t know how…” He whispered, his voice shaking, not nearly as strong and confident as it usually was.
“That’s okay, Stevie, I teach you!” You exclaimed, and Steve perked up at your little nickname for him.
“Okay.” He said, and you took that as a sign to wrap your cozy blanket around his shoulders. Immediately, the tension evacuated his body, as Steve let himself feel cared for for the first very time.
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Text
My Problematic Girl - Chapter 1
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Character: College!Steve Rogers x Rich!Female Reader
Prologue:  Steve has lived being nobody in this prestigious university. He just wants to graduate and get a job to get more money to pay the bills for his mother's surgery. 
But his life turned upside when a new student attended his class. His quiet and dull life became dangerous and full of surprises.
×××
She exhaled the cigarette smoke from her lips. She still doesn’t care even though he told her he has asthma. 
She looked at Steve and said, “Bark for me.”
Steve felt humiliated, and his pride was crushed. But she held his life and secrets. He had to bury his dignity to the ground, and he murmured, 
“Woof.”
******
I would appreciate any comments and feedback you can give me. 
If you want to be tagged in this series, please tell me.
Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5 , Chapter 6 , Chapter 7 ,Chapter 8 , Chapter 9,-
Main Masterlist || Buy me Ko-fi
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Pine trees, old gates, red bricks, this is the same view Steve saw every day for the past two years at Stark University he attended as an art student. 
He always remembered the moment he got a scholarship and was accepted to this prestigious university. 
It was the first time he felt alive. 
He thought when his problem with tuition had been solved, he could enjoy being a university student compared to high school. 
But it turned out to be the same. Every student here is super rich; they come to uni with their sports car, or their driver drives them to uni. 
They live differently from Steve, who has to work different types of part-time jobs to get more money and pay hospital bills for his mother. 
On the first day of class, the way rich kids look at Steve when they see him walk into the class, they know he doesn’t have the same life standards as them. 
Steve tried to be friendly with them; they were nice at first. But he realised they were using his talents to do their work. They treat him like, ‘It’s a privilege to hang out with us; you should be grateful.’
Since then, Steve decided it was better to be a loner. With only eight months left, he will graduate and no longer have to meet these people. His footsteps stop in front of the class door. 
"Did you watch the game last night?"
"You bet, and guess what? I sat with the club owner."
“Girls, my dad got us the ticket for that concert.”
That’s what Steve heard every day in his class. He couldn’t join the conversation because of his financial status. 
Steve took the headphones from his pockets and put them on his ears. No one even bothered to say Hi when he walked into the classroom. 
That’s good because if one of his classmates greets him, they want Steve to do their work. It’s better to be invisible or a wallflower. 
He went to his table, dropped the old canvas backpack, and took out the sketchbook. 
Since Steve was a kid, drawing was the only way for him to escape from reality. He forgot how his abused father, sick mother and snobby classmates were.
While drawing, Steve heard one of the female students start gossiping. One of the nice perks of being invisible, he could get a lot of gossip in this university.
“My father met the chancellor yesterday and heard a new student will join this class.”
“Before one semester to graduate? That’s unbelievable, but how?”
“I heard she’s close with Tony Stark. I guess one of his young girlfriends?”
“No, euuh.”
All the gossipers start laughing like they are better than anyone. But Steve agreed with one thing, what kind of person could attend a class last semester?
Suddenly the class door opened, and it was Prof. Abraham Erskine; before he walked into the room, he turned back and signalled, ‘Wait’. 
He put his documents on his table and looked at his students. “Guys, you have new friends. Please be nice to her, alright?” 
“Yeah.”
“Perfect.” Prof.Erskine clapped his hands once and waved his hand towards the person behind the door. “Come in.”
The rumour is true; a new student is joining the class. 
Everyone could see her arrogant attitude when she walked into the room. 
But the way she dressed from head to toe took the attention of every female student. 
One of the females who sat in front of Steve whispered to her friend, “Did she wear those shoes to class, and that watch… cost more than this class tuition.”
“Who is she? If she were in the socialite club, I would’ve known.”
“Her name is Y/N L/N; starting today, she will study with us until last semester.” Prof.Erskine looked at Y/N and said, “Please be nice and don’t make trouble in my class.” 
Everyone gasped when they heard their Professor beg this one student. 
“Shit, she’s that bit*h.”
Steve turned to one male student who immediately closed his mouth. 
“Who?”
“Remember that chaotic night at the H club? She kicked one of the guests to the table. She didn’t even apologise and continued her drink.”
“Ohh, I heard a drunk guy won't leave the female guest. She kinda helps the victim.”
"I remember she went to the same school as me. She kicked a teacher to the window and threw the table at him."
"She didn't get in any trouble?"
“Her father is the CEO of a Law Firm."
"Her parents gave her a penthouse, and I heard she always held amazing parties."
"That's cool. We should ask her later to hang out with us."
Steve shook his head; how fast their opinion changed when they knew she had money.  
Prof. Erskine didn’t bother with his students, who kept whispering. He told Y/N, “You could sit near the window with that boy. His name is Steve.”
Y/N nodded and went to the chair where the Professor pointed his finger. Everyone in the class stops talking and watches her whenever she walks. Their eyes are looking in Steve's direction. 
Their gaze made him nervous; today was not his lucky day. He lowered his head and continued sketching. 
Nothing happened when she sat beside him. Steve thought he had to greet and introduce himself. But it’s unnecessary because she grabs a tablet and wireless headphones and starts playing games. 
Everyone widened their eyes; the audacity of her being impolite and arrogant was on another level.
What Steve had in mind, ‘Ah, another rich kid.’
Professor Erskine didn’t even bother; he opened his laptop and set up the projector. “We will continue the study of Leonardo Da Vinci of his … … …”
Steve looked to the front,t but then he glanced at the new student. Before, she played games, and now she reads online comic books.
'Wait, did she read it from that website?'
She looked at him and caught him off guard. Steve nodded his head and looked back to the front. His face felt hot because that was embarrassing.
After the class ended, the first person who stood up after the Professor left was Y/N. A few people tried to approach her, but Y/N replied to them by saying, "Get lost."
Steve was confused; on the first day, Y/N had started to make an enemy. She could quickly join the clique if she wanted to, but it doesn’t seem like she cares.
‘Bzzt.’
Steve opened the message on his phone that said, “New 24 pages. Do you want to take the job?”
He immediately typed, “Yes.” It's an offer for extra money; Steve wouldn't say no. 
“Steve, I have to talk about your final project.” Professor. Erskine asked him. For their final, every student has to make an exhibition. Usually, universities will provide a warehouse for students. 
But now their curriculum has changed; the uni wants the students to find the place for their exhibition independently. 
Almost all the students have no problem with this except Steve. He couldn't even afford his rent. How can he get money to rent a place just for one day? 
That's why Prof. Erskine asked Steve about a sponsor. 
“Have you found the sponsor?" 
"Not yet, sir."
Steve gulped, he wanted to ask, but he didn't know anyone willing to give their money to sponsor an art student.
Prof. Erskine sighed. "I hope you will find a sponsor during the winter break, Steve. I know you will." He carried all his stuff and left the classroom. 
Steve sighed heavily; he wished he knew one person with money. 
Then he saw the new student, Y/N, looking at his sketchbook. He grabbed the book from her hand. 
“Ah, sorry.” He wanted to scold her, but Steve didn’t expect her to apologise. He put the sketchbook into his bag and gathered all his stuff to leave. 
“Wait.”
Steve's body stopped when he heard that. Then he saw Y/N grabbed her wallet and took an old photo. She shows it to him. It's a small photo in black and white colour, the paper also being crumpled or folded many times. When he saw it, he noticed the woman in the photo looked like Y/N. 
“Could you draw her to be 40 years old? In this photo, she’s 25 years old. I saw your drawing. The way you do the shadow and wrinkles is nice.”
Steve doesn't know how to feel since he never got a compliment from his classmates. 
“You won’t do it for free, of course. I will pay for it. Please?”
Steve takes a good look at her face. When she talks like this, it doesn’t seem like the same person from the class. And she asked nicely, and she was willing to pay. 
“Ok.”
“Great, I will give you the deposit first.” She took $200 hundred from her pocket and handed it to Steve's hands. 
His hands tremble because his drawing would only cost around $75. This money is enough to pay for groceries for a month. 
"Uhm, it's too much." Steve felt guilty if he took the money. He handed back the money to her. 
His act made Y/N quiet for a while; he thought she was mad at him, and she probably felt offended, but instead, she said, "No, for her, it's worth it."
When she said those words, Steve could feel the sadness in her voice. He doesn't know the meaning behind the story, but he will do his best to draw the photo. 
"I will finish this in 3 days."
"That fast?"
Her question made him curious, is she an art student? 
"Are you-?" 
"Y/N!!!"
Before Steve asks her, someone yells her name. He turned back and saw the chancellor of Stark University, Tony Stark. 
It's difficult to meet him, even though there are only two places to find him: the engineering lab or a nightclub. He's a famous playboy but also a genius. 
So, to make him come by to this building is fantastic. And he's here for Y/N. 
Is the rumour true that she's Tony's side chick?
"Nice to meet you, Steve. See you tomorrow."  Y/N smiled at Steve and went to Tony. 
He saw both of them walking together. Perhaps the rumour may be true. 
Steve shook his head; it was not even his business. He should go home quickly and start drawing since he got two jobs today. 
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When he gets home, he turns on his old PC, grabs his drawing tablet and opens the storyboard he received. 
Steve clicked his tongue; as a freelance artist, he can't say no to his client, but his morals get tested every time he gets a new storyboard from the client. 
His work is drawing for Hentai comics. Some people see this as disgusting, but some people will like it. And Steve works with the people who are willing to pay. He will receive any request from the website called www.readwithme.com
This is the biggest secret he kept if anyone from the university knew his work. He could get dropped out. He even kept it from his best friend, Bucky. 
He carefully picks a secret name and uses another email so no one will figure him out. His ID is VioletDust18. 
Many people have read his works and subscribed to the story. He doesn't get paid much, but it's enough to pay the bills and rent...
He already got the rough sketch and opened the reference to start drawing. Steve didn't feel aroused when he looked at the photo or storyboard.
When the clock showed 9.00 p.m, Steve finished three pages. He stopped when he felt hungry. He opened up his wallet and saw $200. Today he will order a food delivery to treat himself, and tomorrow, he will buy groceries. 
Suddenly Y/N appeared in his mind. He is grateful that she pays more than enough. But one thing that worries him is that she opens the website with Steve’s artwork. 
She seems like not an art student. She probably wouldn't notice. 
Yeah, it's better if she didn't notice, and after he's done with her request, she will ignore him.
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Thank you for reading. I hope you like it.
If you have any feedbacks or want to join the tagged list, you can tell me.
I will always be grateful for those who reblog. Thank you so much.
Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5 , Chapter 6, Chapter 7 ,Chapter 8 , Chapter 9,-
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182 notes · View notes
lauriegraham01 · 8 months
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40s!headcannons - steve & bucky
pairings: steve rogers x reader, bucky barnes x reader
summary: headcannons of steve and bucky from the 40s.
w/c: 645
content warning: minor angst, mentions of domestic/child abuse, fluff, mention of smoking/drinking.
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Steve Rogers
Steve always being shy to show affection, for fear of rejection. So whenever you initiate acts of affection, he goes red and his heart does somersaults.
He doesn't like to talk about his dad much, it still hurts to think about the abuse he and his mom faced because of him.
But he sometimes misses the way his dad was before the abuse started but he feels wrong for missing someone who caused so much pain.
Steve first learned how to draw from recreating the human anatomy because he had a curiosity for medicine, taking after his mother who was a nurse.
Steve learned how to do everything around the house- cooking, cleaning, hell he even knew how to sew. His mother had instilled the importance of knowing how to take care of yourself within him at a young age.
Coming from Irish-Catholics, he and his mother would attend mass frequently.
Steve loved midnight Christmas mass the most.
Loved reading and saving up to buy new books and comics.
Was the type of kid to hide underneath the covers with a flashlight just so that he could read late at night.
He memorized the entire subway system at one point.
His favorite places to take you on dates would be parks and record shops.
Textbook definition of a gentleman, would open every door for you, walk closest to the street, give you his jacket if your cold, and drop you off at your doorstep after a date.
After the serum, he still wasn't used to his new body so he would still accidently buy clothes that were too small.
Steve wrote to you and told you everything about what he was doing while away.
This man would lose his mind every time you sent him a photo of yourself in your letters.
Worshipped the ground you walked on and treats you nothing short of a queen.
He was afraid that his inexperience would be an issue and after reassuring him that it wasn't he fell even deeper in love with you.
Needless to say Steve loved learning new things with you ;)
Bucky Barnes
Bucky was openly affectionate and it often meant that you would get dirty look from girls who had a crush on him because they were jealous that Bucky was paying to attention to you.
Bucky is Jewish (especially considering that his character is based on another Jewish character/has Jewish influences)
He would invite Steve over for Seder dinners every year.
Bucky cannot cook to save his life, his role in the kitchen often being helping cut veggies or wash dishes.
Bucky was a naturally loud person seeing as he lived with four sisters and had an all around loud household/family.
Bucky picked up street-boxing when he was 13.
Steve hated this. Often having to be the one to patch up Bucky after a nasty fight.
Bucky could understand and even speak a little bit of Spanish, learning from friends and from girls he'd dated before.
Bucky would sneak up the fire escape to be able to knock on your window and see you late at night.
Bucky smokes, but never around you or Steve out of respect.
He is a sappy drunk. He will go on and on about how much he loves you and how beautiful you are.
He can handle his liquor.
He loved going dancing with you- especially at jazz clubs.
An absolute sucker for rhythm and blues.
He knew that he wanted to marry you, but he wanted to wait until after the war to get married.
He had the ring picked and locked away.
He kept a picture of you tucked away in his coat pocket, admiring the picture everyday while overseas.
He wrote to you often, asking about how things were back home. Your responses giving him hope that this war would end soon and he's come back home to you.
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ya9amicide · 10 months
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It’s Been a Long, Long Time [MCU]
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♡ marvel masterlist ♡
summary: You and your boyfriends, Steve and Bucky, enjoy a nice relaxing day in your quaint Brooklyn home.
pairing: stucky x reader
warnings: none
a/n: we’re gonna pretend “It’s Been a Long, Long Time” came out before Steve and Bucky went to war.
I was listening to this (https://youtu.be/97gXDhM8pI0) while I was sleeping and I dreamt about this scenario so I decided to turn it into a fic.
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It was one of those rare days where all three of you were home all day without plans to leave. There was a light drizzle of rain outside that could be heard from where you all were in the living room of the home you shared with Steve and Bucky in Brooklyn. The soft sound of music dances through the halls and bounces off the walls of the living room.
The book The Heart is a Lonely Hunter by Carson McCuller sits comfortably in your hands, propped up against your knees which you brought up onto the window sill where you reside. Bucky lies back against the worn couch, body stretched across the surface as Steve sits comfortably in front of him, drawing in his sketchbook while Bucky watches over his shoulder.
The sounds of their soft breathing comforts you as you subconsciously match the pace of your breath with theirs. The song changes and a familiar tune rings out. “It's Been A Long, Long Time” by Harry James was a tune you three were all too familiar with.
Bucky shifts in his seat, gently leaning Steve forward as he slips out from behind him. He makes his way toward you and holds a hand out. You look up from your book to the open hand next to you. “C’mon, Doll,” Bucky gives you a roguish smile. “It’s our song. Won’t you spare me a dance?”
A bright grin stretches across your face and you dog-ear the corner of the page to keep your place. Setting the book down, you turn to face him. “Just one? Why not every one?”
Bucky chuckles and you place your hand in his. “Well, we gotta save some for Stevie doncha think?” His hand was big and calloused compared to yours. It was all-encompassing and safe.
“Oh, of course,” you say. “All of my dances belong to both of my best men.” You settle your other hand on his shoulder and his other hand settles on your waist.
Steve watches you both fondly, flipping to a new page in his sketchbook where he starts a rough drawing of you and Bucky dancing. 
It started slow. Your head leaning on Bucky’s chest, his resting on top of yours. You both swayed gently to the music, enjoying the peaceful atmosphere. However, Bucky’s gentle sways started to gain momentum and energy. Soon, he was exaggeratedly rocking you back and forth and spinning you in circles.
Your laughter rings through the home as Bucky dips you back, his hands cradling your body and keeping you from falling. When he brings you back up, he immediately spins you out again and you come face to face with Steve whose hand is reached out in invitation. “I think I oughta take you up on that dance, Doll. Can’t let Buck have all the fun.”
Letting go of Bucky’s hand, you grab a hold of Steve’s. He starts whisking you around the room in a cheerful waltz as soon as you do.
You all dance around in high spirits, laughter and smiles egging each other on further. 
As the song starts coming to an end–the music quieting and the tempo slowing–you three settle into a misshapen slow dance. Where you stand, cradled against Steve’s chest with Bucky cocooning the two of you from behind, you feel warm and safe. The war is momentarily forgotten as you focus on the tranquility this moment brings you.
183 notes · View notes
marvelsmylife · 5 months
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First date
Pairing: pre serum Steve x reader
#9- one small kiss, pulling away for an instant, then devouring each other
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Steve wasn’t used to having a female’s undivided attendant before. He was so used to having girls swoon over Bucky. So when he arrived at the double date Bucky set up for the both of them, he was surprised you were only paying attention to him.
You began asking him what he did for fun and happily shared what you did for fun when he asked as well. He began to feel flustered when you asked him if you could hold his hand as you walked down the street to the second location of your date.
Steve wanted to murder Bucky when he realized it was a nightclub. He had no idea how to dance and confessed that to you when you asked him if he wanted to dance. “I could teach you if you want. Unless you don’t want to, it’s ok if you don’t want to” you asked Steve.
“I do ! ! !” Steve's voice cracked at the end.
It took a while for Steve to get what he was supposed to do. He apologized profusely every time he stepped on your toes but you reassured him that you were ok. By the end of the night, you were smiling from ear to ear and thanking Steve for being a great dance partner.
Bucky and his date were long gone by the time you and Steve decided to call it a night and Steve insisted on taking you home. He knew how dangerous it was for a woman to be roaming the streets alone at night and he wanted you to get home safe.
By the time you got back to your apartment, you were wondering if Steve was going to kiss you or not. It’s like Steve read your mind because the next thing you knew, Steve leaned in and kissed you. It was a small peck that made you want more; so after a few seconds, you pulled him into a passionate kiss. The kind that would have you seeing fireworks.
Steve was surprised at first but quickly composed himself and started kissing you back. Finally, after what felt like forever, you pulled away “Please call me” you begged.
“Of course I will” Steve replied and started to walk away when you stopped him “What’s wrong?”
You let out a small laugh and replied “Don’t you need my number so you can call me?” Steve started to blush and started apologizing but you just started laughing. “Here” you pulled a receipt and a pen from your purse and wrote down your number.
Once you handed him your number you placed one last kiss on Steve’s cheek before you disappeared into your apartment. “I owe you one Buck” Steve whispered as he placed your number in his coat pocket and made his way back home.
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marie-swriting · 11 months
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Un Homme Respectable - Steve Rogers
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Marvel Masterlist
Résumé : Tu es en train de rentrer chez toi tout en essayant de te débarrasser d'un homme qui t'embête depuis quelques minutes. Heureusement, proche de toi, il y a un homme qui déteste les brutes
Warnings : pre-serum Steve, se passe dans les années 40, harcèlement de rue, bagarre, policier qui n'écoute pas la reader, fin fluffy, dites-moi si j'en ai oubliés d'autres !
Nombre de mots : 3.2k
Version anglaise
Tu marches en direction de chez toi tout en essayant de ne pas montrer ton agacement à l’homme avançant à tes côtés. Il ne te laisse pas tranquille depuis une dizaine de minutes même si tu ne montres aucun intérêt à son monologue. D'abord, tu avais répondu à son bonjour par politesse, mais tu n'avais pas prévu de lui parler, à lui ou à une autre personne. Tu veux juste rentrer chez toi tranquillement. Toutefois, selon lui, ton mutisme indique que tu es intéressée par ses histoires. Depuis son arrivée, tu essayes de ne pas montrer ton malaise, cependant si on regarde attentivement, on devine que tu voudrais être loin de lui.
Tu n'oses pas dire qu'il te dérange, appréhendant sa réaction jusqu'à ce que l’inconnu pose son bras autour de tes épaules. À ce moment-là, ta patience atteint officiellement ses limites. Tu tentes de te détacher de lui alors qu’il te tient un peu plus fermement.
-Excusez-moi, mais pourriez vous me lâcher, s’il vous plaît ? Nous ne nous connaissons pas.
-On peut vite changer ça, poupée, affirme-t-il avec un sourire en coin. Faisons plus ample connaissance, allons danser ce soir ! 
-Non, merci, refuses-tu, catégoriquement, espérant qu'il te laisse seule.
-Et pourquoi ?
En entendant sa protestation, tu te retiens de soupirer de frustration. Pourquoi est-ce que tu as besoin de lui justifier ton "non" ? Ne peut-il pas voir qu’il t’embête ?
-Je ne peux pas.
-Oh, tu te laisses désirer, j’aime ça, murmure-t-il avec un regard prétentieux. Allez, poupée, tu ne vas pas le regretter. Laisse-moi une chance, tu vas voir que je suis l’homme de tes rêves.
Cette fois, tu roules légèrement tes yeux, assez visible pour exprimer ton agacement, mais pas assez pour qu'il le remarque, apparemment. De plus, son surnom "poupée" commence de plus en plus à te taper sur les nerfs. Il ne te connaît pas et agit comme s'il pouvait tout se permettre avec toi. Comprenant qu'il n'est pas prêt d'abandonner, tu penses à un mensonge et pris pour qu'il fonctionne.
-Malheureusement pour vous, j’ai déjà trouvé l’homme de mes rêves. Je suis fiancée.
-C’est étrange, je ne vois pas de bague sur ton doigt, rétorque l'homme en pointant ta main gauche.
-C’est, commences-tu en réfléchissant, c’est parce que la bague que m’a offert mon fiancé n’est pas à ma taille. C’est une bague de sa famille. Nous devons l’amener chez le bijoutier pour la régler. Par ailleurs, je suis en route pour retrouver mon fiancé pour le faire. Si vous voulez bien m’excuser, finis-tu avant de tenter de partir, mais il se met face à toi.
-Laisse-moi au moins t’accompagner, poupée. Ainsi, je pourrai également vérifier s’il existe vraiment, "ton fiancé". 
-Je dis la vérité, répliques-tu sèchement. 
-Faut pas t'énerver, souris un peu ! Allez, une dame comme toi a besoin d’un homme, tu peux l’avouer, t'as besoin d'être protégée.
-Je n’ai pas besoin de protection, merci. Laissez-moi tranquille maintenant, déclares-tu et tu tente de t'échapper à nouveau quand il t'agrippe le bras.
-Vous, les femmes, vous…
-Hé ! Elle t’a dit de la laisser tranquille. 
En entendant la voix derrière toi, avec l'homme, vous regardez au-dessus de ton épaule et découvrez le corps frêle de Steve, te rendant heureuse en un instant. Tu ne connais peut-être pas Steve, mais s’il peut t’aider à te débarrasser de cet homme alors, tu acceptes son aide avec plaisir.  
-Et t’es qui, toi ? Ne me dis pas que c’est ça, ton fiancé, demande l'homme en montrant Steve et en t'offensant par la même occasion. 
-Si, c’est mon fiancé. Cela vous cause un problème ?
-Poupée, se moque-t-il, ton fiancé fait vingt kilos tout mouillé. Un coup de vent et il s’envole tellement qu’il n’a pas de muscle. Il ne pourra jamais être assez bien pour toi, ce n’est pas un vrai homme.
-La force physique m’importe peu, rétorques-tu, complètement énervée. Je suis avec mon fiancé, qui existe comme vous pouvez le voir, alors laissez-moi tranquille maintenant.
-Elle t’a répété plusieurs fois de la lâcher, alors tu devrais partir, insiste Steve en se mettant à tes côtés.
-Ecoute, minus, c’est une discussion entre moi et elle. Elle est attirée par moi, elle ne veut pas l’avouer par pitié pour toi.
-Pourtant, j’ai l’impression que ça fait plus de cinq minutes qu’elle essaye de se débarrasser de toi, si ce n’est plus. 
-Les femmes sont toutes comme ça, à faire semblant de pas te vouloir alors qu’elles te veulent, justifie l'homme comme si c'était évident. Enfin, comment pourrais-tu savoir ? Au vu de ton apparence, les femmes ne doivent pas te regarder. 
-Je vous interdis de lui dire ce genre de chose ! vocifères-tu.
-J’expose un fait, poupée.
-Arrête de l’appeler comme ça, elle n’est pas un objet. Tu devrais partir. 
En parlant, Steve se positionne face à l'homme, devenant comme ton bouclier personnel. Malgré la différence de taille, Steve ne montre pas une hésitation dans sa gestuelle. L'homme roule ses yeux avant de les reposer sur Steve avec un air agacé.
-Toi, le minus, tu commences à me saouler. 
Sans avoir le temps de réagir, l’homme frappe Steve au visage. Tu lâches un cri en le voyant tomber à terre. Avec difficulté, Steve se relève et positionne ses poings, prêt à répondre à l’attaque de l’homme. Il tente de le cogner, mais l’homme le prend par le col et le jette contre le mur d’une boutique. Quelques passants s’arrêtent, regardant la scène sans réagir. Paniquée, tu regardes aux alentours, cherchant de l’aide quand tu vois un officier de police en train de marcher un peu plus loin, ignorant ce qu'il se passe. Tu cours vers lui en l’interpellant. Le policier se retourne et fronce les sourcils en entendant la peur dans ta voix. Tu lui expliques brièvement qu’il y a une bagarre en pointant du doigt le lieu. L’officier ne te répond pas et court vers Steve et l’agresseur. Il arrive à les séparer en retenant l’homme pendant que tu t’accroupis en face de Steve. Tes mains se placent sur son visage blessé. Tu regardes les différentes coupures et bleus naissants de Steve. Ce dernier essaye de sourire pour te rassurer, cependant tes yeux sont encore remplis d’inquiétude. Tu aides Steve à se relever en te confondant en excuses. 
-Mais qu’est-ce qu’il se passe ici ? Expliquez-vous tout de suite, messieurs ! exige l'officier.
-Ce n’est pas de sa faute, réponds-tu en pointant en direction de Steve. Il est venu m’aider car cet homme, ajoutes-tu en montrant l'individu qu'il retient, ne voulait pas me laisser tranquille, malgré mes complaintes. Il est celui qui a frappé en premier.
-Alors, comment ça s’est passé ? 
Tu es stupéfaite quand tu entends le policier répéter sa question alors que tu viens de lui résumer la situation.
-Comme elle vient de le dire, commence Steve, elle avait besoin d’aide et je suis intervenu. 
-Tout de suite les grands mots, “elle avait besoin d’aide”. Elle flirtait avec moi aussi ! Il a ruiné mon coup, contredit l'homme.
-Je crois pas que dire “non” à maintes reprises signifiait qu’elle répondait à ton flirt.
-Assez ! interrompt l'officier. Jeune homme, vous allez venir avec moi au poste, ajoute-t-il en resserrant son emprise sur l’homme. Vous deux, vous pouvez partir. Le spectacle est fini.
Les spectateurs improvisés de la scène retournent à leurs occupations tout en regardant l’officier traîner l’homme en arrière, ce dernier continue à déverser son agacement envers toi et Steve. Tu essayes de ne pas y prêter attention, surtout lorsque tu entends les différentes insultes à votre égard. Il te faut une minute pour te remettre de tes émotions, encore sous le choc que la situation ait dégénéré aussi vite. Quand tu arrives à respirer normalement de nouveau, tu poses tes yeux sur Steve et le vois en train d’essuyer du sang coulant de son nez. Tu récupères ton mouchoir de ton sac et le lui tends. Il l’accepte et s'essuie du mieux qu’il peut.
-Vous allez bien ? te demande Steve et tu le regardes avec de gros yeux.
-Je devrais être celle qui vous le demande ! Vous avez le visage tout amoché. 
-Ne vous inquiétez pas, te rassure-t-il. Vous vous sentez de rentrer chez vous seule ou vous voulez que je vous accompagne ?
-Ça ira, merci. 
-Très bien, alors je ne vais pas vous déranger plus longtemps. Bonne fin de journée, mademoiselle, te salue-t-il en commençant à marcher. 
-Attendez ! Vous ne comptez pas rentrer tout seul chez vous ? le retiens-tu en venant à sa hauteur. Dieu seul sait à quel point cet homme vous a blessé, je ne voudrais pas que vous perdiez connaissance sur le chemin. Je vous accompagne.
-Vous n'êtes pas obligée.
-J’insiste. Après tout, c’est à cause de moi que vous êtes blessée. C’est la moindre des choses que je puisse faire pour vous remercier…, justifies-tu en laissant ta phrase en suspens pour qu'il te dise son nom.
-Steve Rogers.
-Y/N Y/L/N. Ravie de vous rencontrer, malgré les circonstances.
Vous marchez d’abord en silence. Tu ignores comment débuter la conversation, embarrassée d’être la cause des blessures de Steve. Quant à lui, il ne sait pas quoi dire, n’ayant pas beaucoup, pour ne pas dire pas du tout, d’expérience avec les femmes. Il tente de se mettre à la place de Bucky, espérant trouver les mots justes sans te donner l’impression de faire comme l’autre homme. Finalement, tu es celle qui ose briser le silence quelques minutes plus tard.
-Je suis désolée de lui avoir dit que vous étiez mon fiancé. J’avais juste besoin de prouver mon mensonge.
-Il n’y a pas de problème.
-J’espère que vous ne donnez pas d’importance à ce qu’il vous a dit, par ailleurs.
-Vous voulez dire quand il a dit que je n’ai pas de muscle ? Il disait la vérité.
-Quand il a dit que vous n’étiez pas un vrai homme, précises-tu. C’est ce genre d’homme qui n’en n’est pas. Ils n’arrêtent pas de jouer les gros bras, à agir comme s’ils savaient mieux que nous ce que nous voulions alors qu’ils ne sont même pas capable de comprendre quelque chose d’aussi simple qu’un “non”. Contrairement à lui, vous le comprenez, ça devrait être le strict minimum des choses à faire, mais je ne connais pas beaucoup d’hommes qui font attention à ce qu’on dit. De plus, vous êtes venu m’aider alors que d’autres auraient détourné les yeux.
-Je suis sûr que, si ça n’avait pas été moi, quelqu’un d’autre serait intervenu, te contredit Steve.
-J’en doute. Ce genre de situation m’est arrivé quelques fois et à chaque fois, j’ai dû me débrouiller toute seule. Et comme vous avez pu le voir, certains policiers ne nous prennent pas au sérieux avant qu’un autre ne confirme notre histoire. Alors, sincèrement, merci d’être venu, même si vous devez sûrement le regretter maintenant. 
-Je serais venu dans tous les cas. Je déteste les brutes. Je ne pouvais pas rester sans rien faire, affirme-t-il, honnêtement. 
-On aurait besoin de plus d’hommes comme vous, Steve.
Quand tu finis ta phrase, vous arrivez chez lui. Vous restez en bas de son immeuble, un silence gênant prenant de nouveau place. Steve ignore si tu veux rentrer avec lui ou repartir tout de suite. Quant à toi, tu ne sais pas si tu peux le laisser ici ou si tu peux l’accompagner jusqu’à sa porte, sans donner l’impression d’agir comme une mère poule. En observant avec plus d’attention Steve, tu te rends compte que tu le trouves plutôt mignon. Tu aimerais pouvoir faire plus ample connaissance avec lui. Tu t’apprêtes à lui dire quelque chose quand une voix inconnue te devance. 
-Hey, imbécile ! 
Instantanément, tu te tends, craignant l’apparition d’un autre homme cherchant les problèmes. En remarquant le changement dans ta posture, Steve te rassure : 
-Ne vous inquiétez pas, c’est seulement mon meilleur ami.
-Oh, d’accord.
-Qu’est-ce qu’il y a, crétin ? 
Bucky est sur le point de lui répliquer quelque chose quand il voit le visage de Steve. Il soupire de frustration et roule ses yeux.
-Ne me dis pas que t’as encore provoqué une bagarre ? 
-C’est de ma faute, en fait, interviens-tu. Un homme ne voulait pas me laisser tranquille et Steve s’est interposé.
En te voyant, Bucky ne peut s’empêcher de sortir son sourire le plus charmeur. 
-Pour une fois, c’est pour une bonne raison. Bucky Barnes, mademoiselle, se présente-t-il en embrassant le dos de ta main.
-Y/N Y/L/N, enchantée. Que voulez-vous dire par “pour une fois” ? le questionnes-tu, ne comprenant pas.
-Steve, ici présent, a la mauvaise habitude de toujours chercher la bagarre.
-Vous ne devriez pas, Steve. Vous valez bien mieux que ça.
-Merci ! s’exclame Bucky avec un regard insistant vers Steve. J’espère qu’il écoutera enfin.
-Avez-vous besoin d’aide pour nettoyer vos plaies ? demandes-tu à Steve avec un regard inquiet.
-Non merci, je peux m’en occuper. Vous devriez rentrer, vous avez fait un détour pour me ramener.
-Très bien. Encore merci, Steve. S’il y a quoique ce soit que je puisse faire pour vous rendre la pareille, n’hésitez pas, annonces-tu avec un sourire. Passez une bonne soirée et faites attention à vous. 
Tu fais un signe de tête à Bucky pour le saluer et quittes les deux hommes. Steve te regarde partir pendant que Bucky analyse le visage de son meilleur ami. Un sourire entendu prend plus sur son visage en comprenant que tu as tapé dans l'œil de Steve. Quand ce dernier ne te voit plus, il repose son attention sur Bucky. Il fronce les sourcils en voyant l’expression de son ami.
-Quoi ?
-Tu es complètement épris d’elle.
-Pas du tout, contredit Steve en détournant le regard. Je l’ai aidée comme je l’aurais fait avec n’importe qui.
-Ça, je veux bien le croire, tu provoquerais une bagarre parce que quelqu’un respirait trop fort, mais je ne t’avais jamais vu regarder une femme de cette façon.
-Elle est belle, je ne peux pas le nier, mais ça s’arrête là. Et puis, je pourrais la regarder de cette façon, comme tu dis, le fait est que ce n’est sûrement pas son cas, affirme-t-il, les mots résonnant dans sa tête malgré lui.
-Tu n’as clairement pas fait attention à ses yeux. Je suis sûr que si je n’étais pas arrivée, tu aurais même eu le droit à un bisou sur la joue avant qu’elle parte. Elle n’a presque même pas fait attention à moi.
-Bien sûr, rigole Steve, ne le croyant pas. Bon, on rentre ? Je dois m’occuper de tout ça, finit-il en pointant son visage.
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Une semaine plus tard, tu es devant la porte de chez Steve. Tu tiens une tarte aux pommes que tu as faite un peu plus tôt. Tu t’assures que ton gâteau et ta tenue soient parfaits avant de frapper à la porte. Tu resserres ton emprise sur ta tarte, appréhendant la réaction de Steve. Quand il apparaît devant toi, il est d’abord surpris de te voir avant de te sourire tendrement. Quant à toi, tu ne peux t’empêcher de regarder rapidement l’évolution de ses blessures sur son visage. Son oeil au beurre noir est presque guéri alors que ses autres coupures sont encore plus ou moins visibles. Tu te racles la gorge avant de prendre la parole.
-Bonjour, Steve. Désolée de vous déranger, je souhaitais venir vous remercier comme il faut, pour la dernière fois, alors je vous ai fait ceci, informes-tu en tendant ton gâteau. Je ne suis pas une pâtissière hors pair, mais je réussis plutôt bien les tartes aux pommes.
-Vous n’aviez pas à vous casser la tête, ‘merci’ était amplement suffisant.
-Peut-être, mais je voulais le faire. J’espère que vous allez aimer.
-Je n’en doute pas, t’assure-t-il.
-Je dois y aller. J’espère que j’aurais l’occasion de vous revoir pour avoir votre avis, souris-tu.
-Je l’espère également.
Sans réfléchir, tu fais un pas dans sa direction et poses tes lèvres sur sa joue gauche. Pris de court, il ne réagit pas. Tu lui souris une dernière fois avant de partir en lui faisant un geste de la main pendant que Steve reste sur le pas de la porte. Il ne bouge pas pendant une minute jusqu’à ce que Bucky apparaisse derrière lui, un sourire nargueur au visage. 
-Tu l’avais, ton occasion parfaite pour lui proposer un rendez-vous, précise-t-il en faisant référence à une ancienne discussion. Bon, en attendant que tu reviennes sur Terre, je vais prendre ça, moi, ajoute Bucky en prenant la tarte des mains de Steve, et le goûter.
Étonnement, Steve ne réagit pas, pensant encore à tes lèvres sur sa joue. Bucky a le temps de retourner dans la cuisine et prendre un couteau avant que Steve reprenne ses esprits et interdise son meilleur ami de toucher à sa tarte. 
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Tu es venue donner ta tarte à Steve il y a deux semaines. Depuis, tu ne l’as pas revu. Tu ne te fais pas d’illusion. Tu as rencontré Steve par hasard la première fois et il ne connait pas ton adresse donc, ta seule option pour le voir à nouveau serait de retourner chez lui, mais tu ne veux pas passer pour la fille collante. Par conséquent, tu es à peu près sûre que tu n’auras jamais la chance de le recroiser.
Tu es en train de marcher en direction de la librairie proche de chez toi quand tu entends quelqu’un attirer ton attention. T’imaginant que c’est encore un homme lambda, tu roules seulement des yeux et continues de marcher. Toutefois, quand Steve est devant toi, haletant, tu t’arrêtes. Steve reprend doucement sa respiration alors que tu le regardes avec inquiétude et remarques qu’il y a encore seulement une ou deux blessures que tu peux voir au premier abord. Quand tu es sûre qu’il va bien, après qu’il se soit redressé en face de toi, tu as les yeux pétillants de joie. 
-Steve, je ne t’avais pas vu !
-Ce n’est pas grave. J’aurais dû me douter que tu ne te serais pas retournée en entendant ma voix. Je voulais juste te dire que ta tarte était délicieuse, te confesse-t-il et tu souris. J’ai même dû la cacher à mon meilleur ami pour être sûr de la manger entièrement. 
-S’il veut, je peux très bien lui en faire une. Contente qu’elle vous ait plus.
En regardant Steve avec plus d’attention, tu vois qu’il a quelque chose en tête, mais qu’il n’ose pas te le partager.
-Est-ce tout ce que tu veux me dire ? interroges-tu avec une voix douce.
-Non, en fait, répond-il avant de faire une pause d’une seconde. Écoute, je sais qu’on ne se connait pas réellement, mais je voulais savoir si tu aimerais aller au cinéma avec moi, un de ces jours. Bien évidemment, tu peux refuser ! Ne te sens pas obligée de dire “oui”.
-Ça serait avec plaisir, déclares-tu, le faisant sourire. Il y a une séance demain, dans la soirée, ça te conviendrait ? 
-Parfait.
Rapidement, tu ouvres ton sac et prends un crayon et un bout de papier. Dès que tu as terminé d’écrire, tu le tends à Steve. 
-C’est mon adresse, expliques-tu alors qu’il prend le papier. Tu peux venir me chercher à dix-huit heures ? Ainsi nous pourrons parler dans un café avant d’aller au cinéma, proposes-tu avec espoir.
-Je serai là. 
Tu veux lui embrasser la joue à nouveau, mais tu ne fais rien, la présence des passants te retenant. Tu fais seulement un sourire chaleureux à Steve avant de t'éloigner de lui, la joie au ventre, car en plus de le revoir, tu as un rendez-vous avec un homme respectable.
Marvel Masterlist
{Ceci est mon blog secondaire donc je répondrai aux commentaires sous le pseudo @marie-sworld}
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𝕺𝖚𝖙 𝖔𝖋 𝕿𝖎𝖒𝖊
Pairing: Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader
Summary: Whenever Steve was sick before the serum, you were there for him. But all these decades later, he finds just how much time he wasted back then.
Note: This is my submission for day one (drugging/sick/poisoned) of @ailesswhumptober! Does this count as whump? Probably not! Either way, I really wanted to be able to put something out, so here we are!
Warnings: Sickness, technically main character death (??), mention of medicine.
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ʙʀᴏᴏᴋʟʏɴ, 1930ꜱ
“For fuck’s sake, Steve. You’re sick. Now sit your ass down.” Bucky sighed, rubbing his hand over his face. The three of you, you, Bucky, and Steve, had been a trio since practically birth. You’d helped each other through a lot. Bucky always had his sights set on some beautiful lady, and your sights were set on Steve. You know, if he’d notice it. 
“‘M not sick.” Steve slurred out, and you resisted the urge to laugh. His fever was high, and the pain medication only amplified the effects.
“Steve, you’re burning up and shivering at the same time. Just..at least sit on the couch.” You attempted to bargain with him. “Please? For me?”
“Fine.” He grumbled, plopping down on the couch. You glanced at Bucky, who was looking at you. Bucky shrugged slightly, not sure what to do. 
“Thanks. Buck’s gonna go get you some soup, okay?” You sat down next to your smaller friend as Bucky walked a few steps away to the kitchen.
“M’kay.” Steve yawned. 
“Are you feeling better? At least, compared to earlier?”
He nodded, still a bit loopy. Bucky came back with a bowl of soup, setting it down on the coffee table. “Eat up, punk.”
After he finished eating, you walked him to his bed, hoping that he wouldn't resist. And he didn’t, opting to quietly lay down. You sat on the edge of the bed, staring into his beautiful blue eyes.
“Stay?” He asked quietly, his small and ice-cold fingers finding their way to yours. 
“Course I will, Steve.” Rubbing circles into the back of his hand with your thumbs, you let out a sigh. “I always will.” 
He smiled at that. “I like you a lot, Y/n.” 
“I like you too. A lot.” 
He drifted off to sleep, his hand tucked in yours.
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ɴᴇᴡ ʏᴏʀᴋ ᴄɪᴛʏ, 2016
Steve’s eyes drifted away from his notebook at the faint sound of sneezing. A younger couple, maybe in their early twenties, walked hand-in-hand down the street. A woman and a man, the man significantly smaller than the woman. Steve noticed the way he looked at her, eyes filled with love and admiration. Her eyes were bright and excited, and she looked at him every so often as she talked about something. 
They were both dressed in their cold weather clothing, scarves and gloves and hats and jackets. Steve smiled softly, imagining you like that. 
The man coughed, more of a wheezing, painful sound. Steve winced. He didn’t have to imagine himself like that. He could remember it clearly, the struggle to breathe, his throat feeling like it had been clawed by a raccoon. 
He missed you. He misses you every day. He was lucky to have Bucky back, and he was grateful. But that didn’t stop him from wanting you. Your kind smile, your gentle gaze. The way you made him feel less…less. 
But you weren’t coming back. He was sure of it. Hell, he’d found your gravestone. You’d died unmarried, with no children. You’d become a nurse at a children’s hospital, which he'd found out from Natasha searching for information about you online.
Steve felt a pang of sorrow as he watched the couple walk farther down the street. With them, it felt like his past and everything he knew was walking away too. He wished he’d had more time to spend with you, to tell you how he’d really felt about you back then. He yearned for you, to be able to take back all of those times where he could’ve kissed you, yet didn’t. Before he knew it, he’d run out of time to spend with you. He couldn’t replace you. Not with Sharon, or Natasha, or Sam, or even Peggy. In a world full of people, people who idolized and adored him, people who dedicated their lives to collecting his trading cards, he still felt alone. 
He truly was a man out of time.
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littlelioncub43 · 2 years
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I Could Do This All Day
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Summary: You've been dating Steve for a while, and you just want a little taste.
Pairing: Preserum!Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader
Word count: idk, I wrote this on my phone
Warnings: inexperienced!steve, virgin!steve, oral sex (m receiving), face fucking, cursing, sorta forced creampie so kinda dub-con but it's not that bad, I swear, reader sucks the life out of poor Stevie and he loves it.
A/N: I'm in a dick sucking mood, and all I can think about is cute, little, inexperienced preserum!Stevie. This wasn't supposed to be a drabble, but here we are!
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You'd been going out for quite some time, much longer than any other relationship he's had. He'd taken you out to a local dance, held you close nearly all night. But he doesn't know exactly how you ended up here at his apartment, in his bed with your pretty lips wrapped around his dick. No one had ever touched him before, let alone used their mouth, but holy fuck, what ever you're doing with your mouth is making him see God.
He makes the mistake of opening his eyes only to find you staring up at him with a lustful expression that has his breathing quicken. You insisted on going slow, so you don't trigger an asthma attack or stop his poor weak heart. And at first that seemed like a good idea— but the slow drag of your tongue along the thick vein along the underside of his cock was starting to feel like torture.
"Oh, Jesus, please," he moans in a whiny voice, trying his best to keep his breathing under control while he fisted the sheets. The soothing strokes you give him along his inner thighs and narrow hips only excite him more. You swirl your tongue around his sensitive tip, groaning at the salty taste of his precum. When you give his head a good suck, Steve's hips thrust on instinct, earning a surprised gasp and a slight choke. "Fuck, m'sorry! Are you ok? I didn't mean to-"
"It's ok, Stevie," you smile and kiss his leaking tip, "I want you to do it again, can you do that for me, baby?"
Steve tosses his head back and rolls it side to side— you were trying to kill him, he was sure of it. He brings his eyes back to yours, noting the playful sparkle in them, before nodding. "Yeah, I can."
You hum and hold his gaze as you engulf his cock again. Your hands gathering his from the bedsheets to bring them to your head. Steve holds your head gently and waits for the go-ahead. When you give him a cheeky wink, Steve slowly inches his cock deeper into your mouth, inch by inch he watches himself disappear. His jaw drops wider and wider as he fills your throat, his eyes crossing slightly when he felt your nose nestling against his groin.
"O-Oh! Oh fuck!" He groans loudly, his hands gripping your hair harshly on their own, holding you in place for him. The sting at your scalp makes you moan around him, the vibration shakes Steve to the core. He shivers and trembles violently, fighting back the primal urges that threaten to overtake him. The way he reacts has you practically creaming in your panties. You hold him in your throat for a moment, then you suckle gently— and Steve is done for. "FUCKING HELL!"
His resolve breaks and soon he's pistoning in and out of your mouth as fast as his little body will let him. He holds your face while he fucks it, his knees bent and spread wide. You gasp and moan, his sudden roughness has your cunt fluttering and begging for attention, so you slide a hand to rub rough circles on your clit. You listen to your sweet, innocent boyfriend lose himself to ecstasy. Curses fly from his mouth, your name mixed with wanton begging for God, for more, for release filled his room.
"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!" He cries as his back begins to arch, he can feel a tingling in his limbs as you suck harder and harder, your cheeks hallowed. "I'm gonna fucking cum! Fuck— I'm gonna cum!"
Steve pulls at your hair, trying to release his cock from your mouth, but you have other ideas. No, you wanted him to cum down your throat, you wanted to feel his hot load fill your mouth, taste his seed on your tongue— and you were going to be damned if you didn't get what you wanted.
"Sweetheart, please! Stop, I'm gonna–" he begs, his words dying on his tongue when you suck even harder, your free hand pulling his hips into your face eagerly. Oh. Oh. "Oh fuck, that's it, yes! I'm gonna cum—fuck, yes!"
Steve grows quiet as his high builds, his body feels like it's on fire and covered in ice all at once. His balls ache for release that's just moments away. He buries himself as deep as he could into your throat, and with a stuttering scream, shoots his load into your waiting heat. You gulp it down greedily, making sure not a drop is left.
He's so sensitive, he wants to cry, he can't believe that just happened. You're still cleaning his softening member with your tongue, and Steve's soul is slowly returning to his body. You release him with a slick 'pop!' and smile at him with swollen lips. He offers you a sloppy smile, petting your messy hair gently to smooth out the tangles he made.
"Are you ok?" You ask with a giggle at the dazed, dopey look in his eyes. He blushes with a nod, still catching his breath.
"Are you ok?" He asks breathlessly as you rest your head on his torso.
"Oh, I'm fantastic. I could do this all day."
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I no longer have a taglist, so if you want to stay up-to-date on when I post, follow @littlelioncub-library
Dividers by the lovely @firefly-graphics 💖
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dungeonpuppykai · 2 months
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yeah yeah maybe i am ovulating, maybe i am disgusting
but one thing i know for sure is that
i am a 6' busty babe and
i would love for this man to fold me like his laundry
because like, everybody would think i call the shots because of how polite and soft he is overall and the size difference, of course plus me being a seasoned brat
only for me to act smart or big and he only gives me a look and i pathetically whimper and curl into his side, muttering apologies and pressing soft kisses along his humble shoulder
even better if i am wearing heels <3
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imyourbratzdoll · 1 year
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𝒄𝒂𝒏'𝒕 𝒉𝒆𝒍𝒑 𝒇𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒊𝒏 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆
valentine's day masterlist
summary - after a long day of doing his job, cupid steve is stopped by a beautiful woman. one that leaves him a whimpering mess, one that is also his happily ever after.
warning - sub steve, dom reader, oral sex, swearing, slightly public, teasing, angst, fluff, sex with cupid, steve sorta feels bad about himself.
18+ only please, the gif and headers I use aren't mine.
Warnings and Reminders - Please do not plagiarise, copy, repost/republish, adapt, or translate any of my work on any social media platforms, apps, or third-party sites. The only platforms I post my work on are: Tumblr and Wattpad. I do not own any character of any franchise (Marvel etc.) All my works are fiction and may be dark or triggering content: READ ALL WARNINGS BEFORE PROCEEDING.
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Steve had just finished shooting people with arrows, smiling sadly as he watched all of these people fall in love, wondering if he would ever get that. Steve had realised that being Cupid made finding love harder, especially when women would see his size. He knew he wasn’t like most men. He was small and shy.
He dodged the many dancing bodies as he began to head to the exit, not noticing that your eyes had been on him the whole night. You step out of the shadows, and your sleeveless tight black dress catches Steve’s attention, causing his breath to hitch. He takes in the laced sides, black heels matched with your see-through tights, and black gloves. Steve feels his eyes nearly bug out of his head when he notices how well the dress fits your body, forming perfectly around your breasts and hugging your mouthwatering figure.
“Hey, Pretty Boy. Where are you going looking so glum?” His mouth opens and closes as he focuses on your plump red lips. He wondered how they would feel against his skin. Steve felt like he was staring too long, but you looked like a goddess with how you looked, how your perfectly curled hair fell to your shoulders, your red shaded lips spread into the prettiest smile he’s ever seen. “Hmm? Haven’t found yourself a pretty girl to dance with?” You circle him, your eyes scanning his small form, causing Steve to squirm.
Steve gulps. He shakes his head, and his palms become clammy as your sweet scent enters his senses. “N–no, I’m not–” You press a perfectly manicured finger to his lips, smirking slightly as he squirms.
“It’s okay, Sugar. I’m glad no one’s snatched up a sweet little thing like you.” You lean in, your breath blowing softly against his ear. “Means I get to have you all to myself.” You look deep into his ocean-coloured eyes, a dark glint in your eyes as his face becomes flushed. “Would you like that, Sugar? Would you like to be all mine? Have me devour and worship you? Would you like that, Pretty Boy?”
Steve feels his pants tighten, nodding slowly as you drag a nail down his cheek and neck. Your wicked smile pulls him deeper into the darkness the more he stares. “I–I would… Like that… But, I’m” He looks down at himself, suddenly full of sadness, before he looks back into your eyes. “Haven’t you seen me? I’m not what women want.”
You smile sadly, hand moving down until you rest it on his side, the feel of silk beneath your fingertips. “Oh, Sugar. You’re perfect. Now, what do you say we get out of here?” You move closer. Pressing your body against him, and a shocked gasp escapes you when you feel his impressive bulge. “Oh, we definitely need to get out of here. I didn’t know you were packing, Pretty Boy.” When you press your palm into his bulge, a whimper leaves Steve, and he nods frantically. 
“Y–yes, yes, please.” He felt his member throb and twitch from your touch, his eyes nearly roll to the back of his head, and his knees almost give out. Steve’s hand latches onto your arm, pressing himself closer to you. “Please, please.” 
You stroke his cheek with your other hand, continuing to press into his swelling cock. “You’re such a good boy, Sugar. C’mon, we can’t exactly have you a whimpering mess in such a public place, now, can we?” Steve shakes his head, his mind becoming too fuzzy even to think. A pained whimper escapes him when you remove your hand, placing it into his as you lead him out of the room and into the lobby. You lead Steve to the elevator, and the minute the door shut. You pounce, covering his flushed neck with nips and kisses. 
You push him against the wall, your tongue lapping at his sweet spot, sucking it into your mouth and feeling your core throb as moans fall from his lips. Steve doesn’t know where to put his hands, clenching and unclenching them as you continue to make him feel the most intense pleasure. “P–please.” 
You pull away, and your lust-filled eyes meet his half-lidded ones. You lean close, lips inches away from his, but not touching. “Please, what, Sugar? What do you want, hmm?” He whimpers, and his mouth opens as he’s about to reply, but he’s cut off by the elevator doors opening. “C’mon, Pretty Boy. Maybe you can tell me what you want in my room.” You grab hold of his hand again, dragging him along before you reach the door to your room. You let his hand go for a split second to open it before grabbing hold of him again.
Steve’s eyes take in how pretty the room is, not being able to look for long as you drag him to the bedroom. His heart skips a beat, not believing his luck. You softly push him onto the soft bed, his eyes wide as he watches you teasingly strip from your dress. Steve’s mouth drops open, and his eyes slowly drag down your form. “You… You’re so beautiful….” He blinks and then blinks again. His widened eyes shot up and met yours, “I–I’m sorry!” 
You smirk, slowly moving toward him and leaning over. You begin to stroke his cheek with your hand, “It’s okay, Sugar.” He struggles to keep eye contact with you, which is extremely hard as your plump breasts sit perfectly, and your bare cunt is on display for all to see. Your gloves and heels are still on, and your dress and tights are piled on the floor as you kneel on the bed and crawl toward Steve. “So, Pretty Boy. What do you want?” 
Steve’s mouth opens and closes, feeling his member strain against his pants more at the sight of you. “Y–you… I want you.” He gasps, eyes closing as your lips touch his. His hand moves until it rests on the back of your head, his other gripping your hip. His head tilts back slightly as your lips move together, and a soft whimper escapes him when your tongue slithers into his awaiting mouth. Your hand moves slowly, travelling up his thigh and to his twitching member. You palm it, enjoying the cute little whimpers that leave him. Your fingers begin to unzip his zipper, freeing his impressive cock. 
“Well, well. How do you manage to get around with this in your pants? Huh, Sugar?” Steve blabbers, mouth hanging open as you stroke his base, thumb swirling around his leaking tip. Collecting some of his arousal and placing your thumb into your mouth, eyes connected with his as you suck, Steve feels like he’s died and gone to heaven. You move down his body, face levelled with the thick member. “So pretty, so big.” His hips jerk as you run your fingers along his base. “I must be the luckiest woman alive.” When your eyes connect, you smirk and lean forward. Your tongue pokes out and laps the arousal from his thick mushroom tip. “You taste so good, Sugar.” You swirl it around before you wrap your lips around his cockhead, sucking him into your mouth.
“Oh! Oh! P–please… too– much!” Steve arches, his member sliding deeper into your mouth the more his hips jerk. The pleasure becomes too much as you continue to suck. His hands grip whatever he can, his vision turning white. “Oh, please! Y–you are a goddess!” His eyes connect with yours, causing his balls to tighten as he watches your tongue swirl around his cock, before you slowly make your way down to his heavy sacks. Steve sees his life flash before his eyes as you suck them into your mouth, swirling and rolling your tongue as your hand comes up to stroke his wet cock. Steve felt his thighs clench and unclench as you continued to switch between sucking his soul out through his cock and massaging his balls with your wonderfully talented mouth. 
You pull away, hands still working their magic as you stare at him with a sultry look. “Cum for me, Sugar. Let me swallow all of you, milk you dry until you are nothing but a whimpering mess.” With those words and your mouth wrapping itself around his swollen tip again, Steve goes blind, blacking out for a split second as he spills into your mouth, ropes of cum shooting out of him. You clench around nothing as his sweet moans fill the room, fingers tangled in your hair as he loses himself. You pull away, lapping up the rest of his cum and licking your lips. Steve blinks, finally getting his vision back, his chest rapidly moving up and down as he tries to catch his breath. His pretty blues connect with yours as you smirk. A gasp escapes him as you wrap your hand around his hardening cock. “Aren’t you a good boy? Wanna cum deep inside me, Pretty Boy?” His cock twitches and throbs beneath your palm, eyes rolling back as he nods. “Words, Sugar. Be a good boy for me.”
Steve whimpers, “Yes, yes, please! Please, can I cum deep inside you? I’ll be so good, your good boy!” His breath hitches when his gaze lands on your kneeled position. The soft moonlight hitting your skin makes you look eternal. Your smudged red lipstick and tousled hair causes Steve’s heart to beat rapidly in his chest, never having seen someone so beautiful, so flawless in his whole existence. It felt as though he had finally found his missing piece and was ready to give himself over to you: his heart, mind and soul, everything in the entire universe.
You smile, crawling on top of him and positioning his cock at your entrance. “Good boy. My sweet boy.” Yours and Steve’s eyes roll to the back of your head as you sink down, “Oh, my pretty boy. You feel so good stretching me out. You should feel proud of yourself. Especially with this monster between your legs.” A pleasured moan escapes you. Steve’s head is thrown back as he feels you throb and squeeze him. Steve grips your hips, whimpering, and his hips try to jerk up as you refuse to move. “Uh ah, Sugar. What’s the magic word?” 
Steve groans as you roll your hips, your nails digging into his chest as you wait for the magic word. “Please, please! I’ll be a good boy. Please just move!” A whimper leaves him as you move, rolling and bouncing, his thick member sliding in and out of you as you ride him. “Oh, s–so good!” He felt his whole world explode, never having experienced pleasure like this before. His hips began to jerk up, unable to control himself as the feel of your warm, heaven-like cunt seduced him into a slobbering mess. 
“You feeling alright, Pretty Boy?” You breathe out, slowing down your pace because you enjoy how he begs you to pick up the pace. How he’d whimper as he tried jerking his hips, tried to move your hips desperately, but gives up because he felt so weak. You roll your hips slowly, and your head tilts back when you feel him brushing up against your g-spot. Steve whimpers. Soft pleas escape him. 
“O–oh, please move, please. I’ll do anything!” You lean down, bringing him into a deep passionate kiss as you begin to pick up the pace, swallowing the sweet sounds that escape him, bringing the both of you as much pleasure as possible. Your moans fall from your lips and into Steve’s, enjoying how his gifted cock hits all of your sweet spots. 
You begin to feel your walls clenching around him, pulsating as you get closer to your climax. “Pretty Boy, cum for me.” You whisper into his ear before moving down and pressing heavy kisses on his neck. Marking him as yours, you moan softly against his flesh as pleasured sounds escape him. His hips stutter, and his hands grip your hips as he buries himself deep inside you. His cock twitches and throbs, balls tightening, his back arches and large ropes of cum shoot out of him, filling you to the brim. Leaving Steve a whimpering mess as you pulsate wildly around him and cum, your arousal leaking out of you, covering the poor man underneath. 
As you both come down from your blissful endings, you shakily remove Steve’s softening cock from your sopping cunt and fall beside him, your fingers finding their way to your mouth as you lick the both of you off of them. Your eyes connect with exhausted blue ones that are focused on your arousal-covered fingers. Your hand slowly moves toward his awaiting mouth, gently sliding your fingers inside and connecting eyes as he moans, lapping your juices up like it’s his last meal. “Next time, I’ll let you feast on me, but only if you are a good boy.”
Steve whimpers and his head falls back into the pillow as your fingers slip from his mouth. “I–I’m Steve, by the way….” He stares at you, wondering how you could look even more beautiful. He watches you smile, moving closer to him, and your still-gloved hand strokes his cheek, causing his eyes to flutter closed. 
“Such a pretty name for a pretty man.” You lean forward and place a kiss on his plump lips. “I’m Y/n, Sugar, and I’m so glad I found you after all this time. I thought I had lost you.” His eyes slowly open, brows furrowed as he looks at you confused. He feels strangely safe as you stroke his skin. “I’ve been watching you… Ever since I saw you shoot your cute little arrows into my friend and her now fiance and then fly away with your adorable wings. I had always wondered when you’d shoot me and give me my happily ever after.” You stare deep into his eyes as you whisper the next part. “But, now I finally understand… You were always meant to be my happily ever after.” 
Steve could feel tears beginning to form, wondering how he had gotten so lucky after all this time of wondering if he was destined to be forever alone. He reaches his hand out and cups your cheek, feeling his heart warm when you lean into his touch, smiling at him. Not being able to find the right words, Steve finds the courage to lean forward and lock his lips with yours, eyes fluttering closed as they move with one another passionately. 
You break from the kiss, and a soft whisper leaves you. “My Pretty Boy.”
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