#pre serum steve rogers x reader

[marie-swriting]

A Respectable Man - Steve Rogers

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.

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.

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}

[bookishtheaterlover7]

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🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰

[bucks-babe]

How Can I Forget You?

Follow my sideblog @bucks-babesideblog for updates on when I post

Pairing: Bucky x reader x Steve, Stucky x reader, Stucky

Summary: I literally don’t know how to summarize this. 40’s Bucky and Steve go to war, then you know what happens to them, Ladybird is left in the 40’s. Steve and Bucky are in the future. Will they get their Ladybird back?

Warnings: Angst (a lot of it), fluff, poly relationship, pre serum Steve, 40’s Bucky and Steve, 21st century!Bucky and Steve, some gay sex because it was getting too sad (anal fingering, anal, grinding naked), Peggy was never with Steve, implied suicide by alcohol, death of the reader in the 40’s, pet names (darling, ladybird, dumpling), crying, Jewish!Bucky, nostalgia, time jumps, happy ending because who do you think I am, I am not paying for anyone's therapy just so you know

Word Count: 3.2k

A/N: There is no mention of the reader's body type nor race. Part of this fic does take place in the 40's, but I wanted to have a blank reader so that readers from any race can imagine themselves as Ladybird. There is no mention of period related homophobia because this shit was already too damn sad. If I missed any warnings, please let me know becuase I know that this fic is angsty and I want to make sure that everyone knows what they are getting into. Thanks to @buckys-wintersoldier for sacrificing her mental health for this fic 🤘

“Stevie, have I ever told you how pretty your eyes are?” Steve blushes and hides his face in Bucky’s chest, breathing in his woodsy scent. “Don’t hide from me, punk, can’t see those pretty eyes anymore.” Running his fingers through Steve’s soft hair and trailing his hand down to the back of the smaller man’s neck, he gently brings his head back up, appreciating the soft, pink glow on his lover’s cheeks.

“Buck,” Steve trails off, not able to form a complete sentence when Bucky is looking at him like this - like he is gorgeous and not scrawny or undesirable. He doesn’t fight when Bucky brings their lips together, moaning at the taste of Bucky’s last cigarette. His eyes flutter as they pull away, both of their pupils blown, lips swollen and cheeks red. “You know, smoking is bad for you.”

Bucky grabs Steve and lays down on the couch, Steve resting between his legs. “I’m going to live until I’m 100, Stevie, smoking or not. You, my dear, are the one we need to worry about.”

“Like hell, you’re going to live that long with those habits. I’m healthy, it’s the doctors that keep telling me I’m not fit to join the army.” Bucky sighs. No matter how much he tries to stop Steve from enlisting, it never works. Not even their Ladybird can convince him.

“Stevie, please. I don’t want to hear anymore talk about this. Not today.” It’s their Ladybird that speaks, voice thick with emotion, yet stern. Neither of her boys would disobey her. She sets the tray with their sandwiches down and quickly leaves the room, palms frantically trying to smooth her dress down, pressing wrinkles that don’t exist.

Today was the day that Bucky had to leave. He didn’t enlist, not when his Ladybird wanted him at home, safe with her and Steve. She was terrified that he wouldn’t come home, leaving her and Steve behind.

But Steve was more stubborn than his man, not accepting staying at home when the men of his country are risking their lives. He needed to protect his country. “Stay here, dumpling.” Leaving a kiss on his forehead, Bucky follows Ladybird into the kitchen.

Two strong arms wrap around her waist and the tears she was desperate to hold in, cascade down her cheeks, ruining the makeup she spent so much time on. She was trying to be strong for him, support him before sending him off, but it was too much. Knowing that he could be killed at any moment, and these could be her final memories of him, was too overwhelming.

“I know, Ladybird, I know. I promise you that I’ll come home, okay? I can’t leave my best girl and guy alone.” She turns in his arms and his calloused palms rest on her cheeks, thumbs wiping away the stream of mascara running down her face.

“Steve, he, he can’t enlist, Buck. He just can’t. How am I supposed to stay here knowing that the loves of my life are out there, getting shot at, bombs going off, huh?” Steve sneaks in, snaking his arms around her waist.

“For you, Ladybird, I won’t. I’ll wait here with you, send Bucky letters, keep you safe, okay?” She knew it was a lie; Steve could never lie, but she chose to believe him in that moment. Maybe for her own sanity, or maybe just to savor the last moments she would ever get to spend with her men.

She was Bucky off, waving to him when he boarded the train, but when Steve left the house for errands she knew where he was going - she never saw him again, but she knew it was for his love for her and Bucky. She didn’t blame him.

***

When Steve woke up from the ice, the first thing he did was see if his Ladybird was still alive. From the moment he got the serum, he regretted lying to her. He knew when he looked in her eyes, she knew what he was going to do; she accepted his choice. It was who he was and she wouldn’t dream of him being anything else.

He cried that night, when Fury gave him the documents he so graciously printed from Google. Ladybird died only a few years after he went on ice. She never moved on. They said it was a broken heart, but the 40’s would never report a woman drinking herself to death, wallowing in the sorrow of lost love.

It was his fault. Maybe she could have healed from the loss of Bucky if he was there. It would never take away the pain, but she would have one of them, but he left her behind. He would visit her grave daily; her body six feet below him, wearing the dog tags of her lovers.

The pain was eased when he found Bucky. They had each other. Even when he couldn’t remember much, Bucky remembered his Ladybird. Steve wishes he could forget the day he had to tell the man he loved that their girl was dead.

“I still want to be with you, Steve.” It took a while before Bucky was stable enough to choose to love again, but it was never a hard decision. The love for Steve too much to ignore.

Their first time was much different from the 40’s. They both changed so much - Steve more so than Bucky. They couldn’t get each other naked fast enough, kisses and loving touches scattered throughout.

Bucky didn’t feel embarrassed by his arm, not when Steve’s eyes were filled with so much love and lust. Bucky had to look away, his eyes landing on his boyfriend’s cock. “Oh my god, Steve!” He didn’t mean to gawk but he couldn’t help it. Steve went from slightly below average to very much above it. Long and thick, veins pulsing through his cock, supplying enough blood to keep his large erection up.

“What? Oh.” Steve’s signature blush crept up his cheeks just like it used to. Even though his body changed so dramatically, he was still the same boy from Brooklyn Bucky fell in love with. “You’re bigger too, Buck.” Steve shied away from Bucky’s gaze, worried about how Bucky’s cock was going to fit inside of him.

“It hasn’t changed that much, dumpling.” It was almost true. Bucky was always above average - maybe seven inches. He was always thick, but now? His cock looked like it doubled in thickness, and around an inch added to his length.

“Yeah, right.” Bucky beamed at Steve as he became more comfortable under Bucky’s gaze.

“Well, how about we compare sizes then?” They both groan at the first contact in years, dicks pressed against each other. “Won’t you look at that, you’re bigger than me, dumpling.” Steve’s face scrunched in confusion, trying to focus through the haze of pleasure. There was no way that he was bigger than Bucky.

Nonetheless, Steve looks down, almost cumming at the sight of his lover’s cock leaking onto his. His eyes widened; he was bigger than Bucky. It was only by an inch, even with the serum thickening his cock, Bucky was still much thicker. “Good boy, see how pretty your cock is? Fuck, missed you so much.”

Bucky groans in between words as he grinds against Steve, cock pushed harder against his. Steve’s hands find the sides of Bucky’s face, pulling him down in a heated kiss while ropes of his cum shoot out onto both of their stomachs and chests. Bucky follows right after, not able to handle the pleasure the simple grind of their hips brings him as they both share their first orgasm since the 40’s.

He collapses on Steve’s chest while they both catch their breath. “Darling, I need your cock in me. Need to feel how you stretch me out.” Bucky’s cock instantly hardens.

“Fuck, dumpling, we don’t have lube.” Even in his lust filled state, Bucky knows that going any further would hurt.

“Don’t need it. Look at all our cum.” Bucky looks down and whimpers. The serum really did a number on them. His first orgasm in 80 years was a lot. The mixture of their cum was dripping down Steve’s sides and leaking down Bucky’s chest. He quickly dips down to get a mouthful of their cum, moaning as he shares it with Steve. “You taste just as good as I remember, Buck.”

Bucky scoops a generous amount onto two of his fingers while Steve eagerly spreads his legs, presenting his tight hole to his partner. At this moment, it’s just the two of them. The pain of their Ladybird is gone, if only momentarily.

The moan that leaves Steve’s lips as Bucky’s first finger breeches his hole is almost enough to have him cumming untouched. He doesn’t know how long he stretches Steve out for, but it was enough time to have Steve cumming on his chest again, giving Bucky more lube to use.

“Ready, dumpling? Ready for your sergeant’s cock?” Steve only moans, frantically nodding his head. No one would have thought that the tough captain was so submissive in bed. Bucky strokes his cock with Steve’s spend a few times before lining up with his stretched out hole.

He meets little resistance as his tip slips in. “Fuck, Steve. Think you’re even fucking tighter.” He has to close his eyes, balls pulsing and pulling up already. Steve’s tight ass ready to suck all of his cum out.

“Uh, uh, just bigger. So much bigger.” Steve’s mind was empty, only wanting his ass full. He cries when Bucky hikes his legs up, wanting to be as close as possible. “Wait, please.” Bucky immediately eases his cock out, knowing that he’s a lot bigger to take now. After a few minutes, Steve’s breath evens out and his eyes lock with Bucky’s, nodding at his lover.

As gently as he can, Bucky slides back inside his ass, slowly feeding Steve inch after inch. “How full are you, Stevie?” It wasn’t smug; Bucky needed to know that Steve was okay. Leaning down, Bucky presses his forehead against Steve’s, staring into his eyes. Tears fall from both of their eyes, connected so intimately again.

“So full, Buck.” He leans up to capture Bucky’s lips in a kiss, neither able to think straight, let alone kiss properly.

“I love you so fucking much, dumpling.” Steve cries out, hips jerking in an attempt to take more of his sergeant’s dick. As Bucky’s hips rest against Steve’s center, they both cum, chanting each other’s name like a mantra, whispers of their love passed back and forth. Neither of them can stop, trying to make up for all the years spent apart. All the years each spent mourning the loss of the other.

By the end of the night, they’re both spent. Cuddled in each other’s arms, Bucky is the first to break the silence. “Is it just me, or does this almost feel wrong without Ladybird?”

“It does, but she wouldn’t want us to stop loving each other.” Bucky doesn’t respond, caught up in his own mind. The pain from losing their Ladybird would never go away and they both knew that.

***

“Dumpling, you should stay there.” It’s said so quietly that if Steve wasn’t a super soldier he wouldn’t have heard him.

“Excuse me?” Steve pulls away, quickly sitting up in the bed.

“You should stay with her. You deserve it - she deserves it.” Bucky hangs his head, not able to look Steve in the eyes.

“And you don’t?”

“No. After all I’ve done, I’d only taint her. She doesn’t deserve that.” It was a decision that Bucky thought long and hard about.

“You think she would believe that? That I would? I just lost you, Buck and you’re asking me to do it again.” Steve stands and paces around the room, not able to comprehend what his boyfriend was saying.

“Think about it, Stevie. At least she would have one of us. You know what happened when she found out we both were ‘dead.’”

“Drop it, okay?” And Bucky did, but he planted the seed inside Steve’s mind.

***

“I’ll never stop loving you, Darling.” Bucky nodded, failing to hold in his tears, knowing that this was the last time he was going to see his best guy.

“Take care of her for me, yeah?”

“You know I will.” He grabs Bucky’s face, sharing their last kiss, tears mixing together. “And don’t do anything stupid until I get back.” His voice cracks, saying his final goodbye.

Bucky swallows hard. “How can I? You’re taking all the stupid with you.” He caresses Steve’s cheek once more and pats it, letting his hand fall down. They look at each other in silence, burning this memory into their brains.

He can’t bear to look at Bucky when he gets on the pad.

***

Steve’s throat is tight as he looks at his old brownstone. His Ladybird is right behind the door, having no idea who is outside. He picks up the spare key - exactly where it always was.

He has to close his eyes, taking in the familiar scent of the home he shared with his two loves. Stepping over the threshold, he sees her and his breath gets caught in his throat. “Ladybird?” He doesn’t even recognize his own voice, so unsure and in disbelief of what he was seeing.

Her head whips around; the dish she was washing shatters as it hits the ground. “Stevie?” His feet are glued to the ground, back hitting the closed door as he tries not to fall to his knees. “Is it really you?” Unlike him, Ladybird sprints to him, her dress fluttering at the speed she moves, the dog tags of her lovers jiggle with every step.

She almost tackles him to the ground, arms intertwined around his neck, legs clutching his waist. He catches her easily, his own arms squeezing her to his chest. Both of their sobs mix together as Steve drops down on the couch, legs no longer able to hold him up. “I thought you were dead. They send soldiers here and everything.” Steve couldn’t form an explanation, too caught up in her entire being.

He can only pull her into a kiss. It was messy, full of tears and snot, but neither of them cared. She didn’t know how long he waited for this moment. They held each other for hours, crying and kissing. Eventually, she fell asleep in his arms.

Steve didn’t have it in him to put her down as he went around the house. Everything was just as he remembered. The kitchen table, engraved with all their initials, still had three chairs around it, each one in different states of ruin - Bucky always flopped in his chair leaving the legs wobbly. Steve’s favorite mug sat on the lowest shelf, right where pre-serum Steve could reach, even though Bucky loved to put it up higher so that Steve had to ask for his help.

The living room still held the old rickie bookshelf that Ladybird insisted that she could put together by herself, no matter how many times her men offered help. Upon it was Bucky’s first edition copy of The Hobbit. He and Ladybird would always make fun of him for how much time, money, and effort he spent just to get that book - Steve placed it in a box along with the recipes from Mrs. Barnes.

The bedroom made his breath hitch, his arms instinctively holding Ladybird closer. His favorite chair, ripped in multiple spots, sat in the corner of the room, right by the window. Right next to it was his stand where his old sketchbook sat untouched - he put that in the box too. Bucky’s side of the closet hung his clothes, neatly arranged in order of his favorites, while Steve’s clothes lay on the ground in a pile, always too lazy to fold them.

The top left dresser draw held the photo album Ladybird made them for Christmas/Hanukkah - that went in the box. Ladybird’s jewelry box had a necklace with the Star of David that she saved for to get Bucky on his birthday. Bucky gave it back to her before he left for safekeeping - in the box it went. On top of the dresser were all the letters she sent to Bucky and Steve, along with the letters they sent her. The army gave them back to her with their dog tags - Steve made sure to not damage them as they were placed in the box.

***

The team shared gasps and whispers between themselves as Steve reappeared with a woman in one arm and a small box in the other. He whispers something in her ear before pointing in the distance.

A gorgeous smile graces her lips as her eyes meet Steve’s target. She doesn’t hesitate to sprint across the grass, bare feet and ignoring all of the Avengers. Bucky doesn’t hear the beat of her steps, overwhelmed at the loss of both of his partners.

He doesn’t know what hit him as he falls to the ground. Kisses are placed all over his face. For a second, he thinks that he’s dreaming because he would know her smell anywhere, the feeling of her lips ingrained in his mind. But even in his dreams, he couldn’t hear her voice, always muffled and distant, but it was clear as day as he lay on the soft ground.

“Bucky!” He has to grab her face to stop her assault, pulling her back far enough to confirm that it was real, that his Ladybird was in his arms.

“Bird? Oh my god.” He pulls her back down, showering her with affection, practically rolling them around in the grass, not caring about the audience that slowly surrounded them. “I’ve missed you so much.”

Her tears come back once again. His hair was longer, worry lines sprinkled around his face, cool metal pressed against her right cheek, his right hand more callused than before. Steve told her a bit about what happened, about how Bucky lost his arm, how insecure he felt because of it.

Without pause, she tilts her head, soft lips placed delicately on his metal palm. “You’re as beautiful as the day I lost you.” Stuck in their own little bubble, they don’t notice Steve laying beside them until his arms wrap around them both.

With one look he gets the rest of the Avengers to leave them in peace. Unlike his past self, Steve could lie when he needed to. He knew that Bucky wouldn’t have let him go to return the stones if he knew Steve wasn’t going to stay. Laying a kiss to Bucky’s forehead, Steve takes in the sight before him, all of them together at last.

“Bucky, you were right. I did take all the stupid with me.” Bucky’s tear streaked face looks over at his partner.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way, dumpling.” For the first time since before the war, all three of them felt at peace, finally in each other’s arms again. It may have taken 80 some years, but none of them would change a thing if there was even the smallest chance that they wouldn’t end up together.

[literaryavenger]

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. My poor attempts at being funny.

Word Count: 3.4K

Prompt: "So what should I say?" "when?" "when I love someone." "you should say it"

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

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 puts out the cigarette and stands up, walking 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.

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 ask, 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 and 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 can feel the gentle weight of your body against his, and it feels like the most natural thing in the world. He listens to the sound of your breathing, feeling his heartbeat slow down as he takes comfort in your presence.

"Yeah, it's not the first time... But it feels different tonight." He whispers back, feeling a newfound confidence and boldness coursing through his veins.

He moves 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.

[buckys-wintersoldier]

Double Date | Steve Rogers

// Pairing // Pre-Serum!Steve Rogers x Female!Reader

// Summary // Your best friend, Bucky, introduces you to one of his friends.

// Wordcount // 2.532 Words

// Warnings // mentions of shitty ex, Steve being insecure, pre-serum Steve, fluff

// Authors Note // Thank you to @bucks-babe for proofreading and assuring me that this isn’t complete shit. @lanabuckybarnes this one is for you, because you love pre-serum Stevie. HAPPY 106TH BIRTHDAY STEVE ROGERS!

// Events // FluffySteveFest | 4th July: Birthday | Vitaray Chamber: Feature non-serumed Steve | @fluffystevefest

// Masterlist | Steve Rogers Masterlist //

When your best friend — Bucky Barnes — asked you to come with him to the ‘future’ you immediately agreed. Trips with your best friend are always the best and even though there are a lot of people thinking the two of you are dating, you have the most perfect friendship ever.

You’ve known Bucky your entire life and he is handsome, has the prettiest smile you have ever seen and the most shining and blue eyes someone can have. Bucky’s the perfect man, not just his look, also his personality but there are no feelings between the two of you. There never was and Bucky’s like a big brother for you, taking care of you and loving you — but just as best friend, a part of the family — and that’s perfectly fine.

Even though he has a girlfriend, he always has time for you, giving you the love and attention you ask for. And when he asked you to go to the event, he also told you about a friend of his who would join, one he wants to introduce to you.

You grumbled against Bucky's chest when he came up with the idea. Your face pressed into his muscular chest while his arms were wrapped tightly around your waist. Your best friend pulled you as close as possible, while he told you about the friend he wants you to meet.

“You will love him, he is a sweetheart and cute. You’ll adore him, exactly that kind of young man you're looking for,” he assures you, causing you to laugh softly. You don't have a problem with dating at all but after your last boyfriend you are careful with them. He was a huge dick — unfortunately his cock was tiny, just like his balls.

You’re not deciding who you're dating because they have a thick cock, or a lot of muscles but your ex-boyfriend was definitely a huge guy, with muscles. So after him you changed your taste in men.

Now you prefer sweet boys — someone who brings you flowers, kisses you all the time and hugs you whenever he is around. Someone who isn't ashamed or afraid of making compliments but blushes when you compliment him. Someone who won't force you into things if you're not into it — a man who respects your boundaries. One that puts you into the first place, over his friends and most important someone who accepts your best friend. Bucky means everything to you and you would never push him away for just a guy.

Bucky told you he will pick you up from your apartment, his friend already with him. You have only five more minutes until they want to be there. And even though you don't want to admit it. you're already excited to meet his friend, Steve. Bucky has told you a bit about him, not much because wants you to meet his friend without too many thoughts about him before but because what you already heard makes your heart race and a soft smirk appears on your lips.

You twirl around in front of the mirror, looking yourself up and down before you make your way to the door to wait there for your best friend. You're wearing a dress, not too short and not too long — one you feel comfortable in. Or maybe it's the hoodie — which actually belongs to Bucky — you're wearing on top of your dress to keep you warm and even more comfortable.

It's not your usual style but you like it, the look of your sweet dress combined with Bucky’s big hoodie. It's cute and you fell in love with that style when Bucky offered you his hoodie a while ago when you were freezing. You often wore his clothes before but it was the first time you had it combined like that — dress and hoodie.

The knock at the door interrupts your thoughts, you open the door. Being greeted by your best friend's huge smile across his plump lips. He holds his hand out, waiting for you to place your smaller one in his before he brings it to his mouth and kisses your knuckles. He always does that, causing the sweetest and softest giggles to leave your lips.

“Hi, pretty girl. Looking beautiful like always. Ready to go to the future for one night?” He asks. You chuckle softly, always the gentleman. You then nod and grasp your keys, letting Bucky lead you out of your apartment.

Behind your best friend is a smaller young man, he has short blond hair and he looks really shy when he waves at you. You smile softly, Bucky wasn't wrong. Steve looks really cute and is definitely one of the boys whose cheeks heat up when you just kiss their cheeks — maybe even when you just look them into their eyes. And Steve is definitely the type of guy you would date, who would be a sweetheart and gentleman.

“That's Stevie, Steve, that's y/n, my best friend,” Bucky introduces the two of you to one another. Steve smiles softly at you, his cheeks heating up when you look at him, his eyes never leaving your face. Such a gentleman, not even checking you out or letting his eyes wander to your chest.

Steve and Bucky met just a few months ago during their work. And even though Bucky invited you sometimes to some dinner or evenings together you always said no when someone else was there. So you haven’t met Steve but heard about him when you met Bucky for your movie nights.

Bucky lets you walk past him, then you stand between both of them. “Lets go to the future,” Bucky grins, making his way with you and Steve to the event — making your way to the ‘future’.

The presentation of Howard Stark's future ideas are really funny and even though the car is flying for only a few seconds it's really stunning. You never thought that would be possible — at least not yet. Flying cars, without any straps to hold them or something.

“Holy cow!” Bucky says, his ocean blue eyes widen when the car crashes down on the ground again. His girl is grabbing his arm tightly, laughing softly before both of them turn toward Steve and you. Steve is standing close to you, sometimes looking at you but only until you turn your head to catch him staring at you. “That looks amazing, flying cars!”

You giggle softly, making Steve blush. His eyes once again on you, you haven't had much time to adore them but the time you had until now was enough to see that they are just as blue as Buckys. But Steve has that little sparkle of green in his eyes. Something you adore about this smaller man — next to his eyes — is the cute smile across his plumb lips and the way his cheeks heat up when you giggle or when you catch him staring at you.

“How about we get some food? Could eat half of a cow when I don't get some food into me, Bucky chuckles, taking the girl's hand when Steve and you agree. Both of them walk in front of you and Steve through the crowd.

You use the moment when Steve turns around to grasp his hand and interlace your fingers with his thin but lone ones. The bond man touched you a few times already, always by accident but his soft touches feel just so good that you want more of them. So you take your hand, your hold is soft to give him the opportunity to remove his hand from yours.

Steve's eyes widen when he looks into yours; his cheeks heat up even more. He smiles softly at you, his tongue darting out to lick across his lips, inhaling deeply with his eyes closed before he looks at you again.

“Do you want me to let go of your hand?” You ask, your voice soft so you wont make him uncomfortable. Instead of words he only shakes his head and holds your hand tighter. Steve rubs his thumb over the back of your hand and swallows thickly, trying to calm his nervousness.

The two of you follow Bucky and his date, making your way through the crowd as well. Steve's hand feels warm and soft in yours, fitting perfectly and you always look between the way you’re walking at, Steve, and your hands. Steve's body is tense, his hand holding yours tightly and he looks like he tries to avoid the people around you as best as he can.

He then clears his throat, you almost miss it because of the people around you talking loudly. But you luckily hear it and face him, waiting for him to continue talking.

“D-Do you have a boyfriend?” Steve asks, it’s one of the first times he talks today but you're already addicted to the softness of his voice. You shake your head, lifting your interlaced hands and chuckle softly. “Me neither. I-I mean I don't have a girlfriend, not a boyfriend.”

“You're cute, Steve,” you mumble, not really recognizing that you said it out loud. Only when he stops in his tracks, his hand still holding yours tightly as he looks with widened eyes at you. “Oh, sorry. I didn't mean to say it loud and make you uncomfortable.”

“You didn't, but do you really think I'm cute?”His voice is almost a whisper and you can see him shifting from one foot to the other. For a moment you think he is mad that you called him cute but when his eyes glisten lightly you notice that there is nothing but love reflecting.

“I do think that. Look at you, you're not like—”

“Not like the other men. I'm small, not muscular,” Steve finishes your sentence. He had a crush on a girl a while ago but she ignored him, and was only close to him to get to Bucky — who would never date a girl his best friend likes. She pushed Steve away, and told him to gain some weight, to train more and act like a man and not like a little boy.

Before you continue talking you pull Steve with you, not wanting to get lost in the crowd while Bucky and his date are already getting their food. Plus you don't want everything to hear Steves and your conversation. He looks even smaller with all these people around you, his hand grasping yours even tighter, following you through the crowd.

“I'm not like that,” you say, finally through the crowd and in front of the bar where Bucky and his date are. They already wait inside of the bar but you stop Steve in front of the entrance, looking into his eyes, continuing to talk. “I don't like these men who think their cocks are the most fantastic thing in the world. Who tries to force me into things or something, you know. I'm done with that kind of man. And I don't mind someone who is not as muscular or smaller, as long as your personality is as nice and sweet as it is now.”

“Bad experience? Do you want to tell me about the jerk?” Steve asks. You laugh softly, about the name he calls your ex. Then you shake your head, the guy isn’t worth your attention anymore and you are over him already. Your belly rumbles and Steve smirks at you, opening the door of the bar to let you walk inside before he follows. “If you change your mind and want to talk, just tell me.”

“Do you try to get into trouble, punk? We said no more punching for you,” Bucky laughs, pointing to the table his date is already sitting. You look at your best friend with an raised eyebrow, knowing that he’s going to explain what he means when he says no more punching for Steve.

The evening is filled with laughter and fun. Bucky told you about the guys that kicked Steve's ass after him trying to punch them. The man next to you had a red face the whole time, hiding his face behind his hands to cover the redness of his cheeks. But it makes him even more adorable not only his heated skin and the soft giggles that slip past his lips but also the fact that he defends other people and isn't afraid of punching someone even though they are twice as tall and muscular as himself.

Steve has his arm wrapped around your shoulders, your head placed against his small chest. His heart was racing really fast when you first placed your head there but slowly he calms down. Steve’s body isn’t as tense anymore and his nervousness fades away slowly as well. His thin but long fingers trailing up and down your arm, causing goosebumps all over your skin.

Neither of you knew that Bucky's dating plans would work out this well but they did and you couldn’t be happier about it. And even better, it’s almost Steve’s birthday, you punched Bucky’s shoulder earlier for not telling you before the date so you could have bought a present — but luckily you have a perfect idea for a present now.

“It’s almost 12am, so Stevie! Your birthday is in ten seconds!” Bucky shouts, slightly drunk. He grins at his friend, lifting his glass before his eyes move to the clock behind the bar. Bucky and you count down the ten seconds, your grin widens with every second.

Just a second you lift your head, moving a few inches away from Steve. He looks at you with a tilted head, eyebrows narrowed. Steve’s hands slide over your shoulder, down your arm before he places it in his lap.

When you count the last three seconds down you bring your hands to Steve’s face, cupping his cheeks and pulling him closer toward you. Now it’s only Bucky who still counts down and the moment he reaches the zero and shouts his congrats through the bar you press your lips against Steve’s.

A soft gasp leaves his lips, for a moment his eyes widen before he closes them and kisses you softly back. Steve’s hands move to your thigh, fingers digging into your soft skin, grounding himself.

You pull away slowly, a big grin across your lips and your cheeks just as red as Steve’s. His eyes are still closed when you lean your forehead against his. He breathes hitches and his eyes shoot open, his tongue poking out to slide across his lips. Steve’s blue eyes are darker, his fingers still digging into your bare thigh. Then he smiles, his cheeks read but it causes him to look adorable.

“Happy Birthday, Steve,” you mumble. Steve giggles, this time it’s him who leans closer and presses his plumb lips against yours. His hands wander your sides up, pulling you as close as possible while he tastes your sweetness — making him all dizzy but all flustered. He never felt that good and his first kiss shared with the most beautiful woman was just perfect and he can’t stop but has to kiss you over and over again.

// Taglist // @kandis-mom @sergeantbarnessdoll @identity2212 @km-ffluv @lunaalovesyouu @armystay89 @suz7days @etherealdisneyvillainness @pono-pura-vida @somnorvos @meowmeowyoongles @felicitylemon @cjand10 @lives-in-midgard @cevansbaby-dove @flstrawberry @capsbestgirl77 @princesscore-angel @mrs-katelyn-barnes @blackhawkfanatic @multiversefanfics @looking1016 @aphrodite-xoxo @bookishtheaterlover7 @rogersbarber @sebastianstanisahotmf @elyse-harper81 @loki-laufeyson68 @bxtchboy69

[ronearoundblindly]

Some Steve for you to enjoy 🥰🫶🏻

Gurl, this f***ed me up! I wanted to try to make it a snippet of Item 107 or The Cinder King, but the muses were just like "you know what you need? emotional damage." So now here we have my first semi-legit period piece (which has zero useful era detail eh) and truly is just the carrier for skinny!Steve love. Hint: It's thirsty, smutty love with hardly any plot ANGST.

Hello and welcome to Lexi's most self-indulgent fic ever. It's got everything: crippling insecurities about my real-life stuff, horniness unmatched even if there were sex pollen shot directly into their faces, and everyone is touch-starved. \o/ Enjoy! WC probably close to 3k but idk because I'm too afraid to look back at it. *slams post button*

Turned away again, Steve "4F" Rogers steps out of the recruitment center to see you standing there, staring up at the posters promising glory.

People hustle around you, several even knocking into you, but you remain transfixed, invisible. You're clutching your purse like a lifeline.

Down one step, worn-through shoes barely hiding every seam in the cobblestone, Steve has to get closer because that's the direction of home and a lonely, empty apartment he can hardly afford. He has to pass by. He has to, but then he sees the amber light reflect on trails of tears down your cheeks.

He has to stop.

"Miss?" Steve clears his throat, his own arm smacked by a rowdy man who then swats at your ass just as Steve tries to get your attention again.

You jolt and turn to him in surprise, hand flying up to cover a sob, sweeping to wipe the evidence of emotion from your face.

Fast--faster than Steve really processes--he's shouting for the guy to apologize before the guy makes to advance, Steve presses himself between you and the asshole still laughing at disrespecting you, and then he--Steve--is getting shoved into the alley with you still at his back.

It's dusk. The alley is nearly black. Steve can hear you crying but he's slipped on the stones wet from an afternoon rain. He scrambles to right himself.

Amidst the cries, he hears grunts of anger and resistance, terror creeping into his chest as Steve thinks you're being assaulted.

"Piece of shit," you bite out. The silhouette of you hurling your bag at the man's face repeatedly is clear from where Steve crouches, backlit as you are by the movie theater marquee.

Then the guy is down on the ground, too, being stomped on by your two-inch heel. "Piece of fucking shit."

"Woah," Steve jumps forward to hold you back. "Woah, language, ma'am. Let's go. Just leave him."

He has a weak arm around your waist, but you kick at the man one more time for good measure, hissing "liar" before turning to follow.

Your hand in his, Steve hurries through the streets, picking the ones he knows are busier but maneuverable to make sure you're not being pursued. Each time he looks back, he sees your sinking face, more tears, more exhaustion, and he makes a flash decision.

He doesn't stop until he locks the door of his apartment behind you both, and you break down on the bare wood floor.

"You hurt? Did he hurt you?" Steve's boney knees land a few inches from yours and he leans over, his long fingers brushing over your pinned hair and stiff curls that dislodged in the commotion. "You're alright. You're safe here."

Where your legs crumple underneath you, your slip lays over your thigh, uncovered by the skirt pooling on the other side of your hip. He can see the outline of a garter strap and the top of your stocking beneath the silky material. Steve's always loved pretty, delicate things. He also loves the faint bulge of flesh around the restraints.

There's meat on your bones, something to hold onto, and he shakes his head, chastising himself for noticing all the wrong things about the crying woman in his home. His lonely, empty home.

Steve attempts to think of anything other than your body.

"Do you know him? What'd you call him a liar for?"

You sigh in defeat, hands flopping into your lap, and confess that it wasn't about him so much as a man not here anymore. Gone. To war. You tell Steve a rambling tale of excuses and snide comments, of a parting that left you wondering why that man--any man--bothered to be with you in the first place, of a surety that you weren't ever wanted.

"I thought he loved me but he lied."

Steve sits cross-legged in front of you now, enthralled and utterly confused. Why would anyone...?

"That's the worst part," you exclaim, voice cracking. "I don't know. I'll never know." Your fingers fiddle with the hem of your skirt. "I heard today that he died. Don't know where. Don't know when. And I hate that I still care."

"But he wasn't good to you," Steve soothes and wraps his hand around yours, "and he wasn't good for you."

All you do is shrug and hide your face. Tears falls to the fabric below your eyes and seep through in dark patches.

He scoots forward and lifts your chin with a gentle nudge. When your puffy red eyes meet his, he's struck by how lucky he feels to see you like this. It's odd to think someone who knew you more and for so much longer couldn't feel infinitely more attached and protective. You're so vulnerable, so open, so...

"You're beautiful." Steve's tongue swipes over his dry lips. "You're so beautiful."

The words are loaded heavier than tanks and pack the punch of a bomb. He can tell you don't truly hear him by the way you shrink and shake your head out of his hold.

"Don't do that," he pleads. "Please don't hide from me."

"You don't know me."

"No, but I--"

"You don't even know my name!"

He sits back and offers his hand.

"Hi, I'm Steve. It's nice to meet you, and I think you're beautiful."

"That's stupid," you lash out, bitterly spitting the half-hearted, heart-breaking words. "You must be an idiot, Steve."

It's not the first time he's heard it, but it is the first time he's not mad at hearing it. He believed those things, too, long ago, before his mom convinced him to see the possibilities in one's struggles. If you perceive it as an obstacle, it is an obstacle. Perceive it as an opportunity instead and use it. Those aren't her exact words, but Sarah Rogers has so many different ways of teaching the same fundamental lessons that Steve can't remember the phrases anymore.

He can remember the feeling. He remembers seeing both obstacles and opportunities.

"Is it stupid to want to touch you?" he whispers. "Because I would love to touch you."

The question is purposefully leading since he knows from your story that's exactly what you long for. It'll be more impactful if he shows you he longs for that too.

Slowly--so slowly--his hand comes up to your cheek again, his fingers tucking behind your neck.

"I don't want your pity." There's still bitterness but no power behind it. You gently shift closer and meet him halfway.

He's kissed girls before, he's fooled around, and he has, in fact, slept with one girl. They went all the way--twice--which means Steve knows what it is to be pitied intimately. He knows what it's like to want something so badly you don't care what the motivation is.

You deserve to know his motives.

"I don't pity you." His focus falls to your quivering lip. "I want to make you happy." He's close. He's so close his breath rolls warm over your face. "I want to make you smile."

A soft whimper leaves you just as his mouth arrives.

"I want you," he says into the kiss.

Instead of fighting, you grab at his jacket, pulling him until you're both falling into the stand lamp. You taste of salt and something sweet he can't put his finger on. Steve resolves to put that on the list of things to find out about you.

He keeps kissing you as you both fall, the lamp now wedged at an angle by the side table. Despite the tangle of tongues, Steve keeps his hands to himself. He doesn't quite have enough answers.

"What do you want, beautiful?"

Hesitant as he pulls away, gripping worn leather like your purse in the street, your eyes dart between his. You're a dream beneath him, but that sounds too selfish to voice.

"May I..." Steve is already panting "...get you off the floor? More comfortable?"

Maybe you haven't been able to say the words, but Steve doesn't need more convincing to know you want him.

He could tell from the way you pawed at him. He could tell from the multiple times you crashed him into the walls along the hall to makeout more. He could tell from the way you melted like hot butter at his every returned touch, but finally, you two made it to his bed.

He'd be embarrassed by the lumpy old thing if there weren't a curvy, luscious dame standing with wide legs at the foot of it, letting his tie slip through your hands as he sits stunned.

Steve swallows thickly.

"Let me see you." It comes out as more of an order than the hopeful question he intended, but when he sees the command shiver through you, he feels six-foot-six and powerful as all hell.

You two share the burden of unbuttoning all of your layers, spinning you a few times to release front and back and side to side. His hands spread and roam to relish each garment, each moment, until you're top half is naked.

He stares, fierce blue irises muted by the dim light on his bedside table, 'beautiful' on his lips every second you spend with your finger yanking the knot of his tie and sliding off the bond. When you lean to pop his shirt buttons, your breasts hang in his face.

Steve stops you by your wrists, peaking up at you through his long lashes as he takes a nipple in his mouth. He keeps thinking it--beautiful--while his tongue sweeps flat across pebbling flesh. Each subsequent swirl has you melting again, pressing more of you to his face, dragging nails up his chest, sighing long and deep. When he switches to the other side, your fingers bury in his hair. He takes his time to worship you, tracing his own fingertips around the hem of your slip and garters.

He doesn't get impatient, if anything Steve feels greedy for wanting more, for praying this lasts forever, for needing all you're willing to give.

His teeth graze your skin in wanton lust, and you flinch in surprise, knocking you off-balance.

You fall to your knees on the mattress, straddling Steve's slender body beneath your hot core.

"Sorry," you mutter, wriggling to stand, forcing Steve to wrap his arms around you and halt your retreat. "I'm sorry. I don't want to hurt you."

"You can sit on me morning, noon, and night," he rasps. "I won't complain. I'll thank you, beautiful."

He groans pathetically when you relax, the grind of your ass making his slacks pinch tighter and tighter. Steve lets his head fall back on the sheets, eyes fluttering shut. The army might not want him, the world outside may forget he ever existed, but you see. He could get addicted to this feeling. He might get lonely without it.

Steve isn't strong enough to keep hold of you, but your weight never leaves, his erection still slotted between your cheeks. His mouth drops wide when your hips roll. Steve whines when you rise up enough to resume unbuttoning him. His lungs and heart go into overdrive, but even so, Steve doesn't want you doing all the work.

He flips you--using the sum total of his strength--and shuffles backward to stand, ripping the tails of his shirt from beneath his belt and shucking off his trousers. That part he could have been more patient for, but Steve smirks and brushes away the hair falling in his eyes, chest heaving from exertion.

He's pleased to see you watching him, ogling his body without judgment. You look like you want to eat him alive, and he is perfectly fine with that.

His palm lands on your knee to sneak higher beneath your slip, nimble fingers popping the clasps along your stockings and hooking through the band of your underwear. You lifting for him is all the permission he needs. Steve leaves your slip, garter belt, and stockings in place, and in a cheeky twist, he lets your underwear hang off one of your ankles, kissing your inner thigh, pushing your knees wider for him to fit.

He throbs in his boxers at the sight of your sex.

Nerves roil in his belly at the idea he is solely responsible for your pleasure. As he glances up to you, propped up on your elbows with a fearful and expectant gaze, he sees a poster promising honor and glory, a service to be proud of, and for the first time, he has doubts.

You see it in his eyes.

"Steve?"

He wants to participate and show that he's worthy of you.

This isn't about him though, and Steve Rogers is nothing if not dedicated anyone other than himself.

"Right here." He snaps back to reality, laying his hand to your thatch of hair and gently teasing his thumb along your folds. "I'm right here, beautiful."

It's an honor to touch you. He's proud of the moan elicited because he strokes over your clit rhythmically. The glory of watching you writhe is all his.

Steve's breath stays rapid as yours picks up. You're fisting the sheets, slick pooling beneath the pad of his thumb, helping him pick up speed. He dips into you, tests the breach while pushing his boxers down, and crawls over the edge of the bed. Like magnets, you guide each other higher till the pillows cradle you.

You're a broken record, repeating a desperate loop.

"Steve," you whimper.

"Won't ever lie to you." He captures your lips again. "Want you so badly. I'll want you all the time."

Steve doesn't understand why you won't talk to him, so he slows, eyes questioning and brow furrowed. You have to see. The light is right there.

Bottom lip trapped, you still say nothing, but your arms raise to his smooth face and plead in the silence.

He wants the same thing. He wants to feel. Not just the sting of rejection. Not just the slippery, rough stones through his shoes. Not just the empty ache inside. He wants to feel like someone cares whether he lives or dies.

You care even when you don't want to, but Steve can earn you, your care, your smile and your tears. He'll get up and come home to you every time. He needs you to come home to.

Otherwise, this is a lonely, empty apartment. Otherwise, he is a lonely, empty man.

Your hands bring him close, lips pausing just before contact while Steve sinks two fingers into you.

You gasp. His fingers curl. His thumb goes back to work. You kiss him with what little breath you can hold between muted cries until Steve notices your roving hands tug at his waist.

He wants the same thing.

Sitting back on his heels, Steve drapes your thighs over his, his slick fingers spreading you. He's mesmerized watching his cock disappear inch by inch, and the caress of your walls shuts down all other brain function. All he can do is slide against you, bent into your soft body, your breasts padding his jerky thrusts, the base of him perfectly laving the hood of your clit in the growing mess.

You're wet, and he's driven wild by the need to make you come. He tries to sit up again, to play with you properly, but he's stopped by the weight of your legs crossed behind his ass, the strength of your thighs anchoring him in place.

Steve takes huge, deep breaths through his nose because he won't last concentrating on how your body bounces and ripples, plush beneath his boney form.

You get wetter, looser in a welcoming way that spurs him to drive himself home faster. He sucks in air, though it's futile once his heavy balls start to seize.

Suddenly, you shout, stretching to push yourself completely flush with his pelvis, and he has to pull out, keeping aligned with the cut of you as aftershocks make you mindlessly hump him. Steve's cum shoots all over his belly and your chest, some drops dampening what clothes he didn't discard, stains of joy replacing stains of sadness.

His chest might explode. He's gasping, taxed beyond his naughtiest dreams, head lolling toward the ceiling with his throat high.

He feels your legs fall away, and Steve hopes for an instant that you embrace him even though he might suffocate in the process.

The envelopment never comes. The world is fuzzy and too warm beyond him.

He hears the sink in his bathroom turn on just as he lands palms-down on sweaty sheets. He tries every trick he knows to calm down. The water still runs after all the time it takes for him to recover and stand. The closer he gets to the doorway, the clearer the sound really is.

Sobbing.

"Beautiful? What's wrong? Did I--"

The faucet squeaks off, and you barrel out, nearly running him over, your arms covering your chest and your disheveled hair hiding your face.

"What are you doing? Are you cold?" Steve tries.

"I'm disgusting," you hiss in a mad dash for the pile of clothes on the floor.

He trips over his feet to stop you, corralling you as best he can, but you're quick. You certainly have fight in you. Steve only want to show you you do not have to fight him.

"Come back to bed," he commands hopefully, grabbing your wrist as you scoop up your wrinkled dress. "I should clean up, but please, please, come back to bed."

There is something broken and fearful in the way you finally meet his eye. He's torn apart, shredded down to nothing in a single look. That's not how a feral animal sees the world; that's how an animal, abused and betrayed, locks the world out.

Your protection is what you really took off for him. Your thick armor is what Steve got past.

"I didn't lie." He lets go of you and steps back as calm as his rasping breaths can manage. "I want you. I want you to stay." He wonders whether he ought to cover himself, too, because perhaps total vulnerability makes you more nervous.

So he presents himself as an opportunity, not an obstacle.

Steve finds his boxers a foot away and says one more time, "I hope you stay."

Unmoving, your eyes follow his walk to the bathroom, and in the split second he's looking down to turn the tap, you're gone.

Disappointment floods his system, but like all the other stamped failures in his record, Steve goes through the motions of caring for a body that thwarts his desire to live at every turn. In fact, it tries to die so often, he's always surprised to find himself here, staring at this mirror again, wondering why he gets back up.

He's also surprised to find you here, in the bed with the sheet pulled up to your chin, nodding to the side table where you've placed a cup of water.

The tiniest of genuine smiles curves your lips.

Steve's home is neither lonely nor empty anymore. He could cry.

A/N: this got so incredibly out of hand... I'm so sorry. But also, thank you for reading!

Tags: @supraveng @1950schick @patzammit @whiskeytangofoxtrot555

@yiiiikesmish @ashesofblackroses @brandycranby @buckysprettybaby @ellethespaceunicorn

@late-to-the-party-81 @bigtreefest @mistressmkay @astheskycries

@rogersbarber @blogbog710 @bucky-fricking-barnes-reads

[delicatebarness]

until i found you | chapter one

Summary: After a date at the new exposition, your jealous ex decides to pay you a visit.

Warning: 40s Bucky & Pre Serum Steve. Sexual Content. Jealousy/Possessiveness. Mature Language.

Word Count: 1329

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A/N: So, another one? Also, it's Friday somewhere... - Please feel free to leave feedback or let me know where and how you want the story to continue, this is just as much yours as mine. - B

Until I Found You:

Everything: @hallecarey1 | @pattiemac1 | @uhmellamoanna | @scraftsku35 | @ozwriterchick | @sapphirebarnes | @rach2602 | @thetorturedbuckydepartment | @mrsnikstan

The city hummed with excitement as the World Exposition of Tomorrow promised a brighter future amidst the shadows of war. City lights flickered, casting a magical glow over the bustling fairgrounds. You wandered through the crowds, hand in hand with your date, his laughter sent a deep pleasant hum to your ears as he shared a joke. 

The charm of your companion blended seamlessly with the exhilaration of the fair, and the night felt alive with possibility. His hand found its way to your waist, resting casually, and for a moment, you were swept away by the joyous chaos– dazzling lights, the futuristic exhibits, and the promise of better days to come. 

However, not far away, two pairs of eyes were fixated on you. Steve, your older brother, tried to focus on his own date, but his attention kept drifting your way. Frowning, he nudged his best friend, James ‘Bucky’ Barnes. “Oh swell, she’s dating him again,” Steve muttered, barely able to hide his frustration. 

Snapping his attention to you, Bucky’s expression grew tense as he watched your date’s every move. Seeing you with another man, especially one he didn’t think much of, sparked a familiar unease. His blue eyes followed you intently, noting every touch, every laugh as his jaw tightened. 

Steve sighed beside him. “Why couldn’t you two just make it work?” 

Sensing eyes on you, you glanced around, locking eyes with Bucky. The bustling fair faded away, leaving only the intensity of his gaze. It was a look you knew well, protectiveness, concern, and a hint of possessiveness– something that had been between you since childhood, and something neither of you had ever moved on from.

Your on-and-off again relationship with Bucky– the laughter, the spats, silent understandings, and the love. The memories played like an old reel in your mind. 

Your date tugged gently at your hand, drawing your attention back to him. Smiling, his eyes twinkled under the myriad lights, but you struggled to focus. Bucky once again left his mark, stirring up emotions you had tried to bury. The man beside you spoke again, but his words were muffled and distant. 

Across the grounds, Bucky’s eyes never wavered from you– his thoughts consumed by you. The warmth of his date’s hand in his felt cold. 

“Come on, Buck, just go talk to her,” Steve urged, sensing his friend’s turmoil. “You know you want to,” 

Shaking his head slightly, Bucky’s jaw clenched. “I don’t want to make a scene,” he replied, though his eyes betrayed his resolve.

~

The apartment was quiet, the only sound the distant hum of the city outside. Slipping into your room, you had finished changing into your nightgown when you heard a soft knock at your door. “Come in,” you called out, setting your jewelry down on your vanity. Your heart pounded as you glanced in the mirror, finding Bucky standing at the door through the reflection. His eyes were dark and intense. 

“Can we talk?” he asked quietly, stepping inside before you could answer.

You nodded, watching as he closed the door behind him. 

His hands clenched at his sides, taking a deep breath. “I can’t stand seeing you with him,” he admitted, his voice low. “It drives me crazy seeing you with someone else, Doll. It’s like a knife to the gut.” 

You barely noticed the distance between you closing, until you felt his fingers tracing up your arm. “It was only one date…” 

Pulling you closer, his grip tightened on your arm. “I don’t like it, not one bit. I hate seeing you with anyone else. It makes me… I just can’t stand it.” 

You leaned into his touch, the familiar warmth of his hand grounding you. “What about your date, huh?” 

Bucky’s thumb brushed along your lip, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “She’s not you, Doll. No one else ever could be.” 

The room seemed to shrink around you, the air thick with anticipation. His lips found yours, deep and urgent, the kiss filled with years of longing and unspoken love. His hands moved to your waist, pulling you closer as you melted into him. 

As the kiss intensified, he guided you towards the bed. Your fingers fumbled with the buttons of his shirt, your hands trembling as you helped him undress. He slipped the nightgown from your shoulders, letting it pool at your feet as you stood before him, vulnerability and desire intertwining. 

His eyes roamed over you, his breath hitching as he took you in. “You’re mine,” he spoke, his voice a possessive whisper. You found yourself in a whirlwind of desire as his lips traced a path down your neck. His hands explored your body with a hunger that matched your own. 

You pushed him gently onto the bed, and with a flicker of urgency, you straddled him as his hands roamed boldly. His fingers traced the contours of your back, grazing over sensitive spots that made you gasp with pleasure. 

His touch ignited sparks along your skin as his lips trailed down your chest. Then, with practiced ease and confidence, he rolled you onto your back. You arched into him, aching for more of the friction that threatened to drive you wild. 

With a growl of need, he positioned himself above you, his gaze locking with yours. Welcoming him eagerly, your bodies melded together in a dance as old as time itself. Waves of pleasure coursed through your body as you felt the sensation of him filling you. 

He moved with a primary urgency, each thrust pushing you closer. You dug your nails into his shoulders, anchoring yourself to him as you surrendered to the pleasure that enveloped you both. 

Your moans filled the air, mingling with his ragged breaths. He leaned down, finding your lips in a hungry kiss that threatened to steal your breath away. Your fingers trailed up into his hair, pulling him closer as you matched his urgency. The pleasure was exquisite, a sensation only he knew how to cause. 

But as pressure built up within you, Bucky’s hand moved swiftly to cover your mouth. His eyes locked with yours in a desperate plea for silence, a reminder of the need for discretion in the confines of your apartment. However, that only heightened the thrill, adding a layer of forbidden excitement to your shared passion.

Melting into him, your moans stifled against his hand, surrendering to the overwhelming pleasure that coursed through your veins. And, you clung to each other as you rode the waves of ecstasy until they crashed over you in a tidal wave of release. Your bodies trembling, hearts racing as you basked in the moment. 

As you lay intertwined in the aftermath, your breathing slowly evened out. His hand fell from your mouth, tracing his fingers gently across your cheek. His eyes held adoration and reverence as he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead. 

~

The first light of dawn painted soft hues against your bedroom wall as you stirred in Bucky’s arms, his body warmth contrasting with the morning chill. Reluctantly, you both rose and dressed in comfortable silence. After a long, lingering kiss, he left your room, closing the door gently behind him. 

Just as he closed the door, another door opened, and Steve stepped out of his room, rubbing his eyes. Both men froze for a moment, their gazes locked in the quiet hallway. Steve’s eyes widened slightly as he took in the sight of Bucky emerging from your room. His shirt rumpled slightly and his hair tousled. 

Without a word, Steve’s expression shifted to one of knowing acceptance, a silent acknowledgment passed between them. Bucky’s eyes filled with gratitude and resolve as he gave Steve a sheepish nod. A faint smirk tugged at his lips as Steve simply raised an eyebrow before turning toward the kitchen. 

The two men continued in companionable silence, unspoken words settling comfortably between them as freshly brewed coffee filled the air. 

---

Series Masterlist | Next Chapter

[callalillywrites]

Bucky’s Best Man

This whole fic came about from this question posed by the fabulous @navybrat817. While I still stand behind the choices I gave originally, I'm currently sitting in an age of pre-serum Steve feels. Thus, the reason this story came to be.

Pairing: Modern Day!Pre-serum Steve Rogers x Reader

Word Count: ~3800

Summary: Nat and Bucky decide to set up their two best friends by making them their best man and maid of honor. It's not until their wedding that you two officially meet.

Warnings: mostly fluff, some insecurity on Steve's part, flustered Steve and reader at various parts

A/N: This is all written in a practical fever dream of fluff. Hopefully, it's still coherent. It’s proofread but all mistakes are my own.

I do not give permission for my work to be copied or posted on other sites or fed into an AI machine.

*****

“Someone’s smiling pretty hard over there,” Nat teased. Her glass barely hid her smile as she nodded toward your phone. “Who’s the lucky guy that’s gotten you to smile like that? It’s been a while since you’ve smiled like this. It’s nice.”

Your cheeks heated, but you didn’t attempt to lie as you said, “Bucky’s friend.”

“Oh, you mean, his best man, Steve. That friend, right?” Nat asked, leaning forward. You definitely had her attention then. “When did this come about?”

You let out a giggle, shaking your head at her. “You gave him my number, remember? What do you mean when did this come about? You made it pretty clear that he and I would be working together to give you and Bucky the best wedding.”

“And what are we thinking about him, hm? I could guess by your smile, but I want to hear all the juicy details. So spill already.”

Over the next few minutes, you told her everything you knew about Steve from your texts and phone calls. He’d been so sweet at first, asking advice on how to handle his duties as a best man. That didn’t stop him from also checking in with you about handling all your duties as maid-of-honor. The thought he wanted to help you if he could or at least hear you vent had really helped you over the past few months.

It wasn’t like Nat was a bridezilla or anything. Far from it, but you had found some of your duties bothersome. The florist had tried to price gouge them despite the simple designs and few pieces needed to set up the reception’s venue. Then, there’d been the logistics of getting all the girls of the wedding party and other friends of Nat’s together for her bachelorette party a week ago.

Steve had listened to it all, never trying to step in and fix it. You could tell the urge was there based on the way his voice changed over the phone. But he didn’t. He just let you vent and offered you what comfort he could through the phone.

You’d done the same when he called about figuring out what to do for Bucky’s bachelor party. Most of the ideas he could find online didn’t sound all that appealing to him or Bucky, but he’d wanted to give Bucky that right of passage before the wedding. It’d been you to suggest a weekend camping trip or something a bit sportier for Bucky and his Howler friends.

The sweet relief in Steve’s tone had sent the butterflies fluttering in your middle. Oh, you liked how much he could affect you, and you’d yet to meet him face-to-face.

Every time you tried to set that up, something would come up.

It never dawned on you that other powers worked against you and Steve meeting up before the wedding.

By the end of your tale, Nat sank back into her seat with a pleased expression of her own. Without a hint of reservation, she declared, “You’re falling in love with Steve, aren’t you?”

You shook your head.

The thought was impossible, but then again, was it really?

Sure, you hadn’t seen what he looked like, but then, looks had never truly impressed you. Well, that wasn’t the whole truth, either. You didn’t care for some of the more conventional looks that deemed someone attractive. No, you looked for things about a person that others might not necessarily notice at first.

With Steve, you didn’t have to know what he looked like to know that he was your type. He had a subtler sense of humor though he had some sassier moments with you at times. His voice never failed to soothe away the roughness of a day whenever you talked. The way he texted might be a bit on the old-fashioned side, but he never left you in doubt about the tone of his words. He always liked to be crystal clear, so no misunderstandings happened, possibly hurting your feelings or souring your mood.

At last, you admitted, “I don’t know. Maybe. He’s not like anyone I’ve dated before, and we’re not even dating. I mean, I don’t even know if he likes me as anything more than an acquaintance helping him out.”

“You know,” Nat paused long enough to ensure she had your attention, “I could always ask Bucky if Steve talks about you. Then, you’d know one way or another.”

“No, please don’t. I can wait until your wedding to learn one way or another. Just a few more days, right?”

Nat nodded, her smile softening with fondness. No doubt her mind drifted to thoughts of Bucky while she played with the engagement ring on her finger. It gleamed in the sunlight. It took her a moment to come back to you. “Sorry. Yeah, a few more days. Who knows? Maybe it won’t be long before we’re planning a wedding for you and Steve if you two hit it off.”

“Maybe we should just wait and see how our first face-to-face goes,” you said, laughing and holding up your hands. “No sense getting ahead of ourselves. Steve and I should probably try being friends first before we jump to the idea of dating, let alone marriage.”

“You change your mind before Saturday, let me know.”

*****

You didn’t change your mind.

Saturday rolled around, bright and clear. A beautiful day for the wedding of your best friend and her fiancé.

You, Nat, and the other ladies headed to the wedding’s venue early. The limo Nat rented nearly burst at the seams between dresses, ladies, makeup bags, and everything else you might need. Not that the tight squeeze bothered any of you as you talked and joked on your way.

The venue’s director had almost everything complete by your arrival, which made it easier for you all to dash into the bridal suite.

While the ladies quickly changed into their gowns, you took charge of working on their hair and makeup, starting with Nat.

You were making decent progress until a commotion from the main area grabbed your attention.

“Excuse me,” you said and hurried from the room.

You’d taken one step into the main area when something small but solid slammed into you. Your arms flailed to keep you upright, but it wasn’t in your cards to stay on your feet. A hard smack to your behind was your reward for your spectacular failure to save yourself.

“Ow.” You winced when you shifted to get up.

“Wow, we’re so sorry,” one of Bucky’s Howler friends said. His hand stretched out between you, his face pulling tight with concern and contrition. “We didn’t see you there.”

“Obviously.” You chuckled, hoping it would help lessen their guilt for knocking you over. “Nothing’s broken at least, so no harm done.”

Back on your feet, you spared the man who’d knocked you over with what appeared to be a small barrel of something. The man sported a thick mustache across his lip, which he gnawed at without seeming to realize it as he watched you and what you might do next.

“Dum Dum, you better not hurt my girl’s best friend. She will whoop you,” Bucky called, coming closer to the two of you as you continued to swipe at the invisible dust covering your bottom. His voice softened as he asked, “You okay, Sweets?”

You nodded. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Go help Steve finish unloading the truck, Dugan. I’m going to escort this beautiful lady back to the bridal suite.”

The mischievous gleam that entered Bucky’s gaze had you holding up your hands. You bit back your laughter at how fast his face shifted into a pout, knowing he’d been thwarted. “I’m fine to get back on my own. You know full well you’re not seeing the bride until the ceremony. So, get your butt in the groom’s suite and start getting ready. Got that, mister?”

“People should call you Sergeant Sweets,” he quipped though he did as you bid.

You simply shook your head at him.

It was only as you were turning to head back that you caught sight of the figure standing in the doorway leading to the parking lot. At first, you might’ve mistook the man standing there for a teenager, but you soon dismissed the notion. His bearing spoke of years beyond what his silhouette implied.

When he stepped further into the venue’s main area, your breath caught.

This man might be slight of stature, but he was no less handsome. His blonde hair had a bit of length that called you to comb your fingers through it, just to see if you could muss it. His cheeks held a bit of stubble while his hands had smudges of what might be pencil dust or charcoal. You couldn’t be sure.

It was his eyes that really caught your attention when he got close enough. Not only did the blueness of his eyes draw you in until you could make out the smallest flecks of green. His long eyelashes called to you, whispering promises of butterfly kisses. Oh, you always loved the thought of butterfly kisses coming from the one you loved and truly loved you in return.

Hoping your staring hadn’t put him off, you offered him a warm smile and a tiny wave.

He mimicked your motions though his cheeks tinted with a lovely shade of pink.

Before you could say anything, one of the bridesmaids came and pulled you urgently back to the bridal suite.

You could only hope that you would see the handsome guy again. Getting his name would be your main mission if you got a second chance.

*****

There was no way for you to know that the guy you’d seen grew preoccupied with thoughts of you while slowly getting ready in the groom’s suite.

He’d known you would be there. You were the maid of honor, but nothing could’ve prepared him for that first sight of you.

Your laugh had been the first thing he’d heard as he neared the venue’s front doors. It drew him in as much as it did during your rather frequent phone calls together. He wanted to hear it and often. It wasn’t unheard of for him to try and make you laugh, especially after you vented about your day to him. He needed to hear your laugh to make his days that much brighter.

Then, he’d heard your voice as you spoke with Dum Dum Dugan. To say he was floating would’ve been an understatement. Your voice had been a melody he used to fall asleep for weeks now. He never wanted to not go a day without hearing it. He should’ve felt more like a creep for loving your voice as much as he did.

Oh, man, he wished he’d been better prepared.

A small part of him thrilled at seeing how much Dugan towered over you. Not in a threatening way as Dugan wouldn’t ever, of course. You certainly didn’t seem afraid of Dum Dum though Bucky had quickly intervened to ensure you were okay.

No, it was the fact he could tell that you maybe stood within an inch of his height. You came up to about the same spot he did when standing near Dugan and even Bucky. He wouldn’t have to necessarily worry about you hating him for being too much shorter than you. A fact that had kept him out of the dating scene for a while.

What really sucker-punched him though was your smile.

Oh, to have you smile at him would be…

It would be a dream come true if he were being honest.

He’d fallen for you over the weeks of phone calls and texts. If he could have a slither’s hope of a chance with you, then he would be the world’s happiest guy.

He –

“What’s up with you, punk?” Bucky asked, fixing his tie in the large mirror taking up much of one wall. “You’ve been quiet since you walked in here.”

At first, Steve debated answering, but then decided to speak up. “Do you believe in love at first sight, Buck?”

Bucky’s hands stilled as he turned to face his best friend. A smirk flashed across his face as he asked, “Someone finally caught your attention, huh? Who’s the lucky lady?”

Unknown to Steve, Bucky could only hope Steve had taken one look at you and fallen for you. He’d been working so hard to make sure you two didn’t meet until today with some help from Nat. The two of you hadn’t had much luck in the love department. He’d wanted someone who could love Steve as much as he loved Nat while Nat wanted the same for you. After a little bit of discussion, it dawned on him and Nat that you two might be perfect for each other. Then, the matchmaking began, starting with asking you two to play best man and maid of honor. It ended with this ultimate moment of reveal.

Steve’s soft voice broke through Bucky’s thoughts as he said your name.

“I don’t even know if she’s interested in me, Buck. I’m not what most women want. Why would she be any different? As much as I might want her to be, it would be stupid to get my hopes up, right?”

“You think the woman you’ve been texting and talking to almost every night is going to care what you look like? Did she ever give you any indication that she’d care?”

Steve frowned at that, then shook his head. “No, but come on, Buck. This isn’t a fairy tale we’re living in. I’m not exactly meant to win the heart of a princess.”

“Listen to me, punk,” Bucky dropped his hands on top of Steve’s shoulders, “Sweets is the kind of woman to see into a guy’s heart and judge him based on his character, not for the way he looks. I can guarantee she’ll give you a chance if you have the courage to ask for it. Promise me you’ll take that chance with her.”

As much as Steve wanted to drop this discussion entirely, he opened the door. There would be no shutting it now that Bucky had stepped in and insisted on a promise from him.

At last, he nodded. “Fine. I’ll ask her. If she says no, then you’re going to buy me several rounds once you’re back from your honeymoon. Got it, jerk?”

“If she turns you down, I’ll buy you a whole bar.” Bucky grinned before going back to work on getting ready. His gaze met Steve’s over his shoulder in the mirror. “But I’m confident she’s going to say yes.”

*****

Before you knew it, the ceremony was set to begin.

You managed to stave off the disaster you’d been pulled to handle. Then, you got yourself ready for Nat’s big day, taking special care with your makeup and hair.

Within minutes, you would be walking behind the other bridesmaids with Steve at your side. A part of you really hoped that Steve was the guy you’d seen in the main area before you’d been pulled away. Your luck had never been all that great though.

More likely, he was a guest who’d shown up early or possibly a worker for the venue who’d wandered in. That last option didn’t sound quite so plausible, but you couldn’t be sure. You’d seen several of their employees flitting around both the interior and exterior the few times you’d joined Nat for her meetings with the director.

“Hey, girl, let’s get moving. I’ve got a groom waiting for me,” Nat said, giving you a push toward the door of the bridal suite.

The bridesmaids and flower girl had already left the room, taking up their places.

Nat smirked at you. “The way you’re looking, you’d think you were the nervous bride. Should I be worried about you?”

You quickly shook your head.

“Then, let’s do this. You don’t want to keep Steve waiting any longer than you have to. If you’re not careful, he’s liable to be snapped up by one of the guests, then where will you be?”

A reluctant smile flitted across your lips before you straightened your shoulders and took that first step towards the door.

The hallway wasn’t quite as crowded as you feared it might be. Several of the bridesmaids had already begun their journey down the carpeted path leading to the altar at the front of the venue. Only two stood and waited their turns with their respective groomsman.

A lone figure fidgeted near the split-off for the groom’s suite. The same figure you’d seen earlier.

Hope ignited within you at the sight of him.

His gaze bounced up as you neared him, his eyes widening a bit.

Oh, the blue really did have a bit more green in them than you initially thought they did. So beautiful with the way his suit really made those small flecks stand out.

The smile you gave Nat before leaving the bridal suite returned full force.

“Steve?” you asked softly, hoping not to spook him.

He nodded, saying your name like a question as well.

“It’s nice to finally put a face to your beautiful voice,” you said, your cheeks heating behind your makeup.

The pink you’d seen earlier returned while he ducked his head. You mourned the loss of his eyes though you did get another view of his long, feathered lashes. So, you couldn’t (and wouldn’t) complain.

He finally said, “I feel like I should be the one saying that.”

“You can if you’d like. I certainly won’t stop you.”

To your astonishment, the pink deepened though you caught sight of the upward curve of his mouth. He liked your gentle teasing, or at least, that’s what you hoped. Surely, fate wouldn’t be so cruel as to tease you with this man at your side, only to have him not like you as much as you’d come to like him.

He didn’t get the chance to say anything as you’d reached the end of the aisle. You both took your proper places at the altar with Nat close behind you.

Soon, she stepped up next to you, handing over her bouquet to take Bucky’s hands instead. She shot you a quick wink and a nod at Steve. If she could’ve gotten away with a thumbs up, she probably would’ve done it.

You could only shake your head at her. Amusement rolled through you even as you snuck a few discreet glances in Steve’s direction. Your gazes met as the officiant finally announced Bucky could kiss his bride, declaring them husband and wife.

Steve’s arm came out as Bucky led Nat back down the aisle towards the partitioned area that would also serve as their reception area.

You took it without hesitation, allowing him to take the lead.

While you couldn’t say you weren’t disappointed that you two weren’t assigned seats side by side, you were happy that he wasn’t situated too far from you.

In fact, Bucky and Nat made it a point to stay on the dance floor long after their first dance to give you both a chance to talk. Neither of them missed the way you and Steve looked at one another. They were beyond happy to see the successful results of their matchmaking attempts.

You even managed to get Steve out on the dance floor for a slow dance or two. His two left feet didn’t bother you, working with him to relax enough to enjoy swaying to the music.

Conversation slowly began to flow effortlessly between the two of you as the evening wore on.

The only darkness that loomed over the evening was Steve’s continued failure to ask you out for a real date.

You kept waiting and waiting for him to make a move. Hint after hint, you dropped in the hopes he’d take the initiative.

He never did.

When the reception came to an end, you gave up all hope. Steve simply wasn’t interested while you’d come to realize that you could find yourself really falling for him. If only he’d give you a chance, then you could possibly make him fall for you, too.

Dum Dum came up to Steve after Bucky and Nat drove off, ready to kickstart their wedding night. He offered Steve a ride home, which Steve accepted.

“I had a really nice time,” he said softly, almost shyly.

You couldn’t help the genuine smile that settled over your lips. “I did, too. Not sure I really want the night to end, but I guess it has to.”

“Let’s go, Rogers,” Dum Dum called out.

Steve glanced at the Howler and grimaced. “I guess I should go. Thank you for everything. I get why Bucky calls you Sweets. You’re the sweetest woman I’ve ever met.”

“It’s easy with a gentleman like you. If you ever want to talk or something, you can always call,” you said after gathering the last shreds of your courage. This was your last chance, and you wanted to put the ball on his side of the court one final time. “Good night, Steve.”

With a small wave, he turned and started walking towards where Dum Dum waited. He got two whole steps, then he changed course, coming to stand in front of you again.

You could see him swallow, his Adam’s apple bobbing before he blurted, “Go out with me. I mean, if you want. I, uh, I really like you, Sweets. Maybe if you like me, too, I could take you out sometime.”

Your cheeks hurt with how wide your smile became.

“Yeah, I’d like that,” you murmured, then leaned in to press a brief kiss to his cheek. When you pulled back, you added, “I really like you, too, Steve. Call me tomorrow?”

He nodded several times. His voice cracked, raising an octave. “I’ll call you tomorrow. Text me when you get home? I wanna make sure you get there safe.”

“I will. Go before Dum Dum tries to leave without you.”

Steve took off after Dum Dum, who’d threatened to leave him as you said he might.

It wasn’t until he reached the doorway that you called out, “Hey, Steve, do you believe someone could fall in love after a few calls and texts?”

He grinned. “Yeah, I do. I’m pretty sure I did.”

“I’m pretty sure I did, too,” you admitted with a dreamy smile.

*****

Main Masterlist

[welikeimagines-andfandoms]

Imagine being pre!serum Steve’s badass bombshell girlfriend

Y/N: “How did it go, love? You think they’ll let you in?”

Steve: “I doubt it, doll.”

Y/N: “Well you’re still my soldier boy, sweetheart.”

Steve: “Maybe they should take you instead, with how many times you’ve saved me. Fill out the uniform better too.”

Y/N: “Steven Grant Rogers! You cheeky man!”

[eccentricallygothic]

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

[urdepressedslut]

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

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 💕

[marie-swriting]

Un Homme Respectable - Steve Rogers

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.

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. 

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}

[marvelsmylife]

First date

Pairing: pre serum Steve x reader

#9- one small kiss, pulling away for an instant, then devouring each other

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.

[angelbaby-fics]

Daddy's Baby Day

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.

[deliciousangelfestival]

My Problematic Girl - Chapter 1

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

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. 

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.

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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[lauriegraham01]

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.

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.