#skinny!steve rogers x reader

[imaginedreamwrite]

More Hearts Than Mine: Part 3

Jake stood on the edge of the library, fiddling with the strap of his messenger bag as his eyes roamed the library, searching the area immediately in front of him for you.

He had been dying to ask you for hours and days on end if you would go to the hockey game with him. However, either he had been too chicken to ask, or you had been seemingly sucked into a black hole, completely gone from sight.

Ned and Peter have been giving him the gears while he ‘simped’ over you, the other IT tech in the student-run program teasing him about his fantastical crush on someone who was clearly out of his league.

Jake knew they meant well, and there were no hard feelings with their jets; he would’ve done the same if he had been in their shoes because they were not the type of guys to get pretty, cute girls who loved photography.

And yet, you seemed to show him enough interest and hadn’t told him to screw off while you were texting. You had carried long conversations that had stemmed from needing technical support, and that had been enough for Jake to want to take a risk.

And hearing that his brothers had their girls they were dealing with was an added push to get his girl. But now that he was here, now that he was in the vicinity of ‘his girl,’ jake was feeling as if he should bow out.

He had wondered if he was giving too much attention to his friends and looking at the nature of it with tinted glasses. Maybe Ned and Peter were onto something, and maybe Jake was delusional.

Or, he thought to himself, maybe he was exactly what you wanted.

With an intake of breath, Jake had started walking across the library toward your study desk near the back, every step bringing him closer to you.

He was only ten feet away from you when he stopped suddenly and gathered his thoughts, attempting to come up with something witty to break the ice. He thought about opening with a joke, but if he had screwed the joke up, then he would start to stutter and stumble over what he wanted to say.

If he began to slip over what he wanted to say, his palms would start getting sweaty. If his palms started getting sweaty, then Jake wouldn’t be able to stop himself from thinking of the correlation between sweat and body temperature. That would bring him full circle to the point where he was nervous about screwing up the joke, and it would repeat itself endlessly.

Jake inwardly groaned and shifted his weight from his left foot to his right foot, and took another short, deep breath before he approached your table, then stood at the edge.

He studied you, with your head down and a book laying open in front of you, your eyes moving across the page as you read the words while mouthing what you were reading. Jake had watched you for a moment before he opened his mouth to speak and snapped it shut just as quickly.

“Hey, Wookie.” You grinned and lifted your head, studying him while he studied you, your lips twitching at the blush that bloomed underneath his skin. “You wanna sit down?”

“You like hockey?” Jake blurted as he reached for the chair and stumbled to sit when he had pulled it out from beneath the table. “I mean, liking something is objective.”

“What?” You laughed under your breath, grabbing the strap of his bag as it started sliding down his arm as he stumbled to sit.

“Do you like hockey?” Jake asked again, his eyebrows furrowing as he swore his tongue was swelling within his mouth. “I guess liking something is objective and not specific, and I really should’ve asked if you wanted to watch hockey?”

Jake felt like an idiot as he blushed and fumbled to push his glasses up the bridge of his nose while his cheeks were aflame and his hands were shaking. He could see your fingers curling around the edge of your book, just as he could see your camera sticking out of your bag on the floor.

He was nervous, he was anxious, and he was trying to ask his crush out on a date to see his brother play hockey, and it was all fucking up.

He couldn’t flirt on a good day; he couldn’t impress any girl with his attempt at flirting, let alone his dormouse. He envied, at the moment, Ari’s ability to talk with girls so naturally and easily. He envied the part of Ari that was so naturally charming.

“I do like hockey. I don’t understand all the plays, and I don’t have a favourite team, but sometimes watching stick monkeys is entertaining.” You answered his question and had given him some temporary relief when you hadn’t immediately shut him down like he was so used to.

“Do you like watching hockey?”

“Uhh…” Jake rubbed the back of his neck and stumbled over his words. “I prefer soccer, but…hockey’s not bad..”

“Did you know that a chef’s hat is traditionally made with exactly 100 pleats to represent the 100 ways to cook an egg?” You hid your grin in your hand when your fact seemed to throw Jake off his game when it seemed to make him take a pause and blink twice before his eyebrows furrowed and his lips twitched.

“What?” Jake shifted in the seat he was in, and his puzzlement continued as he seemed to think about your fact, taking a step back from the hockey talk. “I don’t-“

“You looked like your head was about to explode.” You laughed into your hand and distracted yourself by closing the book you were reading and tucked it into your bag, your fingers fumbling with the zipper.

“Oh…” Jake licked his bottom lip and muttered under his breath, attempting to regain control of his task and his purpose. “I wanted to ask you-“

“Yes.” You answered with another quick and jovial smile, cutting him off and sending the awkward boy back into a tailspin as a steady blush crossed his cheeks.

“Y-yes..?” Jake pushed his glasses back up the bridge of his nose and squeaked before he laughed nervously.

“I’m assuming you were asking me to the game..?” You withdrew your hand from your bag and turned back toward the tall, bashful yet endearingly cute boy who was still blushing and still trying to form words.

“Yeah. I mean, if y-you want to go to the game, I would go, and I wanted to know if you had. But I wasn’t sure if you liked hockey and then-“

“I do like hockey. I think the stick monkeys take themselves too seriously, but they can hardly help it, right?” You shrugged and angled yourself toward him, then rested your left elbow on the table and rested your chin in your hand.

“I uhh…I have a brother who plays….” Jake chewed the inside of his cheek as he drummed his fingers on the tabletop.

“Yeah? Anyone, I may know?” You questioned and had almost immediately redacted the question when Jake seemed to stiffen and draw his lips into a tight purse. “You know what, it doesn’t matter. The game is on Friday?”

“Starts at 7.” He muttered, looking away from you toward a row of bookshelves before he had looked back. “Uhh…you wanna meet at 6:30? At the arena?”

You had gathered your things in your arms and had pushed your chair back to stand, then you studied Jake as he sat at the table, his eyes widening when you stepped closer and had eventually leaned down. You brushed your lips against his cheek, and your smile grew when you felt the heat from his cheeks against your lips and the tip of your nose.

“Sounds like a date.”

Ari shifted the strap of his hockey bag further onto his shoulder and had almost grunted in surprise when his stick had nearly fallen out of his hand yet was caught at the last minute.

As he glanced out of the corner of his eye toward who had saved his stick from falling to the snow-dusted ground, he had been delightfully taken by surprise to see you standing near him with his post in your right hand and a ticket to his game in the left.

“Y/N,” Ari huskily muttered your name as he studied you, his smile growing at the sight of you analyzing his hockey stick, turning it over in your hands, “you’re coming to see me play?”

“I’m coming here with a friend, or a date, a date with a friend?” You frowned and turned the stick once before you handed it back to him. “I came early to check out the arena; I guess my professor wants me to try my hand as a sports photographer.”

“You want a tour? I can show you around.” Ari offered, his crooked smile brightening at the prospect of taking an extra ten minutes to get you to himself before you met your date.

“You take all the girls you meet on tour? Show them all the places you’ve…scored?“ You feigned annoyance, and your smirk was slow to build, but when Ari had laughed and adjusted his bag again, it had become more prominent.

“Just the ones full of piss and vinegar.” He had quipped, stealing a glance at you when you had looked toward the university facility, your head tilted slightly.

“Lucky me.” You rolled your eyes, and none too gently had smacked him with the blade of his hockey stick, laughing under your breath when he had grunted under his breath. “Being so full of piss and vinegar-“

“Do I get to know who the lucky guy is?” Ari questioned as he started walking with you toward the arena, curious about who could’ve managed to steal his girl’s attention.

“Jealous, Levinson?” You countered his question with one of your own and raised an eyebrow when he frowned and looked you over.

“What if I was?” He was oddly profound, and his almost bold admittance threw you off. “Jealous of this guy who gets to take you to a game of mine? Here I am, going to be doing all the work and this guy-“

Ari was cut off by your laugh, the natural and eased melody bringing forth a rise to his heart rate. If only you had known what you did to him. If only you had known how desperately he wanted to kiss you breathless and feel your hands gripping his biceps as he pressed you against the nearest surface, as he thought you quiver against him.

“Right, because your ability to skate and play hockey is laying out the groundwork for me and the success of my date.”

“Nice of you to admit it.” Ari held the door to the arena open for you, holding it so you could pass through, another little grunt laving his lips when you had brushed against him, pointedly drawing your fingers against his chest to tease him.

“Incorrigible.” You grinned and stepped aside, peering at the interior of the arena with mild wonderment and amazement.

From the few concession stands in the lobby, and the security office to the right, the staircases that would take spectators up to the seats closest to the doors, and the hallways that would lead to the other side of the arena and the other half of the stands.

“Have you ever been in here?” Ari asked, drawing your attention back to him with a gentle touch of his finger against your shoulder, studying you as you locked eyes with him.

“First time.” You looked away and studied the banners hanging in the lobby, the team’s success throughout the years displayed in gold ink against a red background.

There were display cases with their uniforms as they had changed in the period, from the induction in the early 20th century to the jerseys they were using now.

“Let me give you a tour before I put a show on for you and your date.” Ari motioned his head to the left, urging you to follow him.

He started walking away from the lobby toward one of the hallways that would branch off into the different sections of the arena, and ultimately the changing rooms.

You had followed along while remaining relatively silent, content enough to listen to the sound coming through the system that was being tested before they had set up the designated play-by-play announcers. It was quiet until Ari had stopped, and you had all but collided against his large, broad back.

“You okay?” He called over his shoulder, taking note of not only your silence but your general dejection. You weren’t yourself, and you had had something big on your mind.

However, you seemed either content enough to keep it to yourself, or you were trying to make yourself seem more put together than you were.

“I know we’re not friends,” you spoke, then frowned, your lips becoming pursed, “or maybe we are in a fucked up way-“

“Y/N, is something wrong?” You hadn’t been as nearly boisterous in your mannerisms; you hadn’t been almost as bold in your sarcastic digs that Ari had grown accustomed to every time he had met you.

“Are we…friends? Like if I had told you something..?”

“Y/N, are you okay?” Ari had set his bag down and his stick on top and had rested his hands on your shoulders and gently squeezed, his thumbs brushing against the negligible exposure of flesh near your collarbone.

“My parents hate that I’m not taking the kind of classes they want. They hate that I am choosing to focus on photography and theatre instead of some high-class career that will….” You sighed and placed your hands against your cheeks, your fingers massaging your temples.

“I’m uhh…I’m not doing good in my photography classes. My professor wants me to switch my focus toward something other than the traditional portraits or landscapes and nature because everything is ‘contrived.’ At some point, he’s going to have to inform my parents of the failing grades because they’re paying for my tuition. And if they hear I’m failing, not only will I never hear the end of it, but they’ll-“

“Breathe,” Ari removed his hands from your shoulders and gently placed them on top of yours, “you need to breathe, bunny.”

You glanced at Ari and chewed the inside of your cheek, the threat of tears becoming all too real the longer you held his gaze. You were feeling overwhelmed by the nature of your relationship with your parents, and the failures you had been hit with here starting to draw you toward a dive-bomb.

“Why would your professor have to inform your parents you are failing? Why would it matter to them?” Ari brushed his thumb against your knuckles, and you had inhaled sharply at the sparks that shot through you.

You had allotted a minute to feel that comfort before you had pulled away and walked toward the metal railing of the lower level and sat against the rounded edge. You had crossed your arms over your chest and nudged at a piece of compressed dust with your shoe, taking a minute to gather your thoughts.

“My parents are…influential, and they have a lot of friends who are just as influential in the university system. My father is a renowned surgeon on the west coast; I mean, he is like one of the top five surgeons in the country.” A sigh fell from your lips and you crossed your arms over your chest before you continued.

“And my mom…she’s a highly trained and overpaid psychologist. Both are intense, both are respectable, and both of them have their idea for what I should be doing. The agreement they had made was that I could go and explore my ‘hobby’ and they would pay for it, but if I failed, and if I didn’t maintain a high average, they would pull me from the school, and I would go into a program of their choosing.”

“Shit.” Ari exhaled and had joined you where you were resting against the railing, copying your stance. “That’s fucked up.”

“That’s the tip of the iceberg. Trust me. I am…I’m working as much as I can to try and afford a place to live on the off chance that I can’t get my average up. If I can drop out before they inform my parents of the poor GPA-“

“Then you wouldn’t have to move back to the west coast.” Ari finished your sentence for you, then blew air as silence came between you.

You had remained in the subtle silence before you had cleared your throat and bit down on your bottom lip. You had stood up straight and drew your attention to his hockey stuff laying in the middle of the hall, his stick on top of his bag.

“I should let you get ready. Tour can wait for some other time.”

“I’ll walk you back.” Ari chimed, pushing himself off the railing to grab his things and haul them over his shoulder once more.

“Don’t you need to get ready?” You questioned, glancing between him and his bag. “Greet your adoring fans?”

Ari grinned and nudged you with his elbow, his gaze soft as he stepped in line with you. “They got nothing on you.”

“Smooth.” You snorted and rolled your eyes as you walked with him back through the halls toward the lobby, your attention grabbed by the steady flow of people who had started to come in, though you were searching for Jake.

“Your date here?” Ari questioned while you were searching for Jake, and as your eyes glanced over the crowd to the left, you had seen him starting to walk toward you, his eyebrows furrowed.

“Ari?” Jake stopped in front of the two of you, glancing from you to him. “You two know each other?”

“You two know each other?” You mirrored his question with your own, glancing from one to the next.

Jake in a graphic hoodie and worn jeans, and Ari in a pair of sweats and a loose athletic department shirt. The two had similar features, yet they hadn’t looked identical. You had wanted to kick yourself; you wanted to kick your ass for not realizing it sooner.

“We’re two out of three triplets.” Ari trailed off, slowly connecting the dots between you and Jake.

“Triplets? You are triplets?” You didn’t know who to look at, didn’t know who to focus on between Ari and Jake.

“You’ve got to be shitting me.” Your head whipped around as Steve pushed himself through the crowd, his blue-green eyes moving around the three of you, as all the dots and dashes had fallen into line.”Oh my God…”

#triplets!jake jensen x reader #triplets!steve rogers x reader #triplets!ari levinson x reader #skinny!Steve Rogers x reader #Ari Levinson x reader #Jake Jensen x reader #Steve rogers x reader #more hearts than mine series #more hearts than mine part 3 #more hearts than mine masterlist

[a-strange-echo]

Flufftober day4: "Cinderella moment"

Pairing: Pre-serum!Steve Rogers x gn! Reader

Summary: When working on fixing a boat on a hot day, Steve can't help but compare himself to Bucky again. Luckily, Y/N is there to remind him what really matters.

Word count: 555

Warnings: self-estime issues, self-worth, other than that, none, pure fluff

Author's note: finally up to date! WOO!

Author's feelings: wasn't too sure about it at first (at think you can tell by reading it) but I'm really glad with the end and the way it turned out!

Y/N, Steve and Bucky had been friends since childhood, there wasn’t a moment when one wasn’t with the other. Even when they would fight (which was rare) it wouldn’t last long. They were best friends and will always be, no matter what happens. Bucky knew of Steve’s feelings for Y/N and would often tease him about it, although never in front of them. Bucky felt something changed in the group dynamic when they were around 19 but he was fine with it, he could manage Steve constantly gushing over Y/N when in private. He would much rather deal with a head over heels Steve that with a crying, heartbroken Steve.

“-Are you sure you guys don’t want to take a break?” Y/N asked from their sitting spot on the dock.

“-Yes, we will be over soon.” Bucky yelled from the other side of the boat.

Both he and Steve got hired by a nice old man from the dock who asked for help to fix his boat. The boys and Y/N agreed, but it was very hot today and Y/N opted to take a break and drink a nice chill glass of water while the men continued to work but with now their shirt off. Sometimes, a few young ladies and gentlemen walking by would stop to admire and talk with Bucky but it wasn’t who Y/N got their eyes on.

“-Oi, stop mashing! Poor Stevie is doing all the work!” Y/N called for Bucky. “Although I’m not complaining for I have a very good view…” they said having, indeed, a nice view of Steve’s frail back and butt. “He looks like he could use some help.”

Nobody could see it but Steve blushed like crazy from the comment. What Y/N saw however was the nasty look one of the men sent their way after assessing Steve. Their only response to that was to glare harder and appear meaner to scare the guy and to show Steve was well protected.

“-Then why don’t you help him?” Bucky asked, not really annoyed by the interruption.

“-I’m not strong enough.”

“-Y/N, I don’t need help.” Steve intervened.

“-Stevie, not to offense you, but you look like you are going to pass out. Take a break.” their voice was immediately softer when addressing to him.

Steve sighed but complied, putting the tools down and walking toward the dock, starting to feel dizzy. Y/N patted the empty spot next to them for him to sit and he did. He grabbed a coke that the old man gave them from the cooler next to him, trying to cool down. The two watched the scenery. It wasn’t the prettiest by all means but in this instant, they were the only existing on this dock. The sun was soon going to set and the distant chatting of Bucky and other passers-by were a nice change in pace compared to the buzzing of the city.

“-Do you think I could be like him one day?” Steve asked and Y/N didn’t have to look at him to know he was referring to Bucky.

“-Why should you be like him when you are already so much more?” They asked back. When he didn’t respond and only looked down, blushing, Y/N put their head on his bony shoulder. “Besides, I’ve always preferred smaller men.”

#skinny!Steve Rogers x reader #pre serum steve x reader #pre-serum steve #nonbinary #non binary character #flufftober2023 #fluff #flufftober #queer Steve Rogers #bisexual #bisexual steve rogers #pansexual bucky barnes #pansexual #lgbt writers #lgbt #lgbtq

[justalonelyslytherin]

Happy Father's Day - Skinny!Steve Rogers

Pairing: Skinny!Steve Rogers x female Reader

Warnings: fluff, talk of pregnancy & a baby, talk of steve's health problems and illnesses, talk of potentially passing down said health problems

Wordcount: 507

If you enjoyed reading this, please consider leaving a comment or reblogging. I don't allow for my content to be copied, translated, or reposted on other websites/apps. Please don't steal my work.

A/N: Some of you might remember this pairing. When I saw this prompt I thought that there wasn't a better opportunity than to see what our Steve and his Doll from 'Affection' were doing. This is part of a 4 series and is a request from the amazing @nana1000night for my 200 Follower Celebration. The divider is from the talented @firefly-graphics

Steve opened the door, his key clanking and his feet dragging against the floor. He perked up hearing the quiet humming coming from the inside of the apartment. Closing the door as quietly as he could, he snaked further into the home. He stopped in the doorframe between the entrance and the living room. Standing there he was overcome with love and affection, watching the back of his wife. She was quietly humming a tune, softly swaying from side to side as she stood in front of the small window. Steve tried to put his things away quietly, he didn’t want to disturb her. The view in front of him was so nice, he could have watched her forever. In fact, he wanted to watch her a little longer. 

But she was too observant, hearing him and turning her head. The smile as she saw him was blinding and made his heartbeat rapidly increase. Never stopping her soft humming she turned around towards him. The breath was knocked out of him as he took in the sight before him. She was so beautiful. Her hair was down in soft waves and she was wearing a flowy maternity dress, which poorly concealed the rest of her bump as it was still slowly going back. 

In her arms, she held a swaddled babe. The infant was mere days old and already the apple of its parent’s eyes. Steve couldn’t believe his luck, couldn’t believe they truly had been blessed with such a wonder. The memory was fresh in his mind, the doctors telling him he might never be able to have children. Them warning him to best not even try for if he could have children they surely would be riddled with his health problems. He wouldn’t want to pass that down.

Yet here they were with a perfectly healthy little one. He had been so scared when they found out his Doll was expecting. Scared for her but also for the babe to have any of his sicknesses. He would have never been able to forgive himself had he condemned his child like that.

He watched as she placed the baby in the little bassinet they had in there. She kept looking down at their sleeping infant as he crossed the room and took his place behind her. Snaking his arms around her from the back, he softly rested his hands along her middle. She leaned back against him the smallest bit, so they could both watch the peaceful slumbering child, with the dust of long lashes on chubby, rosy cheeks.

“Happy Father’s Day,” she turned her head, softly nuzzling her nose against his neck. “I don’t have a present for you,” her tone was regretful. When he looked at her, she was chewing her lips. Steve grunted and shook his head. “You already gave me the best present of all. It’s everything I could have asked for.” He told her, looking back down at the small form. “Thank you,” he told her, resting his head against hers. 

#sly's 200 #steve rogers x reader #skinny!steve rogers x reader #skinny!steve #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers x female reader

[dungeonpuppykai]

| Too Sweet |

Description: You and Steve try to put 'it' in for the first time after his serum procedure. 

Pairing: Soft-Dark 40's Post-Serum Steve Rogers | Lover!You. 

Warning(s): Soft-Dark!Steve, 40's misogyny and courting bc let's be so fr, obsession, daddy kink, allusions to spanking, dumbification, power imbalance, corruption kink, fluffy smut, p-in-v penetration that y'all are STRUGGLING with, dash of breeding kink, they love each other, smut with plot.  

Note: @chxrryhansen 's new Too Sweet Steve edit is responsible for this and she doesn't even know it, pfft!

.

"Steve!" Your protest is half giggle and half whine as you wince before landing a punishing smack to your lover's shoulders. "Ouch!" His body is also vibrating due to the humor that the two of you find in this strange situation. 

"Come on, baby" he rasps out against your ear, his elbow that presses into your pillow besides your head causing it to dip towards itself. "I am trying my best here, bear with me a little" try he sure is doing. You can almost feel him fighting against his impulse to just fuck all and push inside your tiny entrance that has never faced a girth this big. 

"I knowww~" you whine as you press your knees against his sides that have become wide and muscular since the procedure. "But it's still ouchie" Steve sighs as he freezes the little bit of pushing that he was doing.

You feel bad, you really do. 

Because it is as hard for you to hold back as it is for him.

Pressed up against your lover that you haven't properly had like this in a week, your bare skins nearly leeched to each other's, one of his rough manly hands fondling your breasts as the one he's holding up his heavy body with strokes your hair to comfort you, the feeling of his stern muscles digging into the tender insides of your thighs and then his cock that you need to save your life at this point so close to your weeping walls yet so far away that you can lose your mind from the frustration. 

But it just hurts so fucking much! 

You had always thought your lover's size to be a decent one because it kept you satisfied and very happy. 

But now…

This. 

You did not want to be an ungrateful brat, as Steve would say, because you weren't a stranger to the valor that he held for his country and you had always done your best to cheer him on so you weren't to be misunderstood.

But good Lord above, they had swapped your cotton candy lover for a rough and tough beast who couldn't bear you being out of his sight for more than a few minutes. 

It seemed that whatever voodoo they worked in that fancy machine had also amplified his obsession with you, like everything else. 

Steve sighs as he kisses your cheek softly. You understand that he's a man and he has his needs that he has been compromising for a week because you recoil at the sight of his cock each time he tries to seduce you. "I've already stretched you out with three fingers, baby. At this point I might as well put my fist in there" you're on thin ice and you know it. 

No man is as considerate as he has been all these days as it is. 

Your cheeks burn and you flush hotly in embarrassment, letting out another whine as a result before landing a flustered punch on his arm. "I- It's not my fault if your fist would still be smaller than your dick!" Though your tone is one that has gotten you bent across his lap more times than you can count, the manner in which the indirect praise boosts his ego saves you this one time.

And his fingers weren't the easiest thing in the world either because they've grown three times their size!

"Aw, is Daddy's cock too big for your little baby pussy, honey?" You cannot help but let out a horrified guffaw as you cover your mouth, eyes wide. 

"Oh, my GOD, Steve!" He is grinning at how appalled you look because of his obscene words. "Stop with that! I told you the other day that it's not right!" You have no idea how, but two months ago your lover had picked up this strange pet name for himself that he liked to use whenever you two were having an intimate moment. 

"Oh, but baby" your back arches in an instant as you grunt and feel your claws fly to his shoulders that they dig into. He has started to push again. But your pussy is nearly as stubborn as he is, it seems. Because neither wants to back down. "Who put it in your pretty little head that you can decide what's right and wrong around here?" 

Your thighs tremble at the authority in his tone and you whine, feeling your ass cheeks clench at the way the girth of his tip feels around your sore band of muscles. Fuck, this is like losing your virginity all over again but only worse. 

You almost feel mad at yourself.

Because you're so wet and prepared.

Ready.

Just why can't it go where you need it most?!

"N- No…" The smell of his shampoo hits your nose when he dips his head into the crook of your neck to make a new love bite, both to try and distract you as well as mark you as his. "D- Didn't mean that, Shtevie, sowwy~" you mumble meekly and he deeply hums against your skin. 

"Good girl" if it weren't for the way in which one of his hands lovingly caress your scalp, you would have teared up due to how small you suddenly feel. "Now shush up for Daddy and let him do this bratty little pussy in" an involuntary gasp leaves you again but you suppress it by kissing his moist temple so he can't hear it and think you are being disrespectful. Your baby pussy has irritated him enough this past whole week already. 

"Owiee…" You grunt again as you feel it breach its way into the initial curve as it has been doing for hours now. "S- So big, Daddy" what? No! You're not like your naughty lover! Y- You're just trying to somehow calm him down so you don't get in trouble! 

Like you did when you initially did not respond to his unrelenting advances in school and he ended up scoring really low in a test because of that so he dragged you out of drama class to bend you over and teach you a thing or two about manners and how to treat those who are nice to you. Then he made you apologize, kiss his cheek and cook him dinner at your house to make it up to him. 

You are glad he did that though, because Steve is your once in a lifetime and there can never be another like him. 

He just knows best. 

But that doesn't mean you are okay with getting punished just because your pussy is too tiny!

"Good babygirl" your lover grunts against your nipple that his mouth is latched onto now, hips doing their best to not damage you but still weasel his cock past the hard round shaped barricade of your pubic bone. "I know it's scary but you can trust Daddy because he knows that if that pretty little pussy can push out his brats one day, it can surely take this cock too." Steve loves how you shudder under him at the thought but still answer him Yes, Daddy. 

Because you are all his to do with whatever he pleases.

That is the reason why he shook hands with HYDRA and wiped out SHIELD the day he was transformed. 

Because HYDRA had promised him a comfortable future with you where he would not have to part with you for too long but still provide you the life that you truly deserved as his sweet little girl who loved and accepted him in a state that everyone had treated as a laughing stock. 

You were worthy of the world.

And he was determined to give it to you. 

.

I didn't mention the hydra plot twist up there because well, surprise! 

#steve rogers #steve rogers smut #steve rogers fluff #skinny steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers drabble #steve rogers fic #steve rogers fandom #dark!steve rogers #dark!steve x reader #dark!steve rogers smut #dark!steve rogers x reader #dark steve rogers x reader #chris evans smut #chris evans characters #chris evans character fanfiction #chris evans character x reader

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Wasted 11

Warnings: drug dealing/use, violence, noncon, and the usual. Proceed with caution.

Feedback is always welcome. Love you and thanks for the wonderful responses so far.♥♥♥

The other girl in this one is from Black Light

Part of The Club AU

Throughout the night, you find yourself thinking of Bucky. Not in any meaningful way, merely wondering how someone as nice as the man beside you came to be friends with a pill-pushing brute like him. Steve is too sweet to believe and you know better than to buy anything at face-value but you’ve yet to find a crack in the veneer.

As he asks for the check, you pull your purse into your lap. He peers over, “oh, don’t… I got it.”

“Really, it’s nice of you to offer,” you try to factor out the chunk from your cut for the night. “I don’t mind going half–”

“My mother would pale if I didn’t insist,” he reaches over to clasp his hand over your purse before you can pop open the flap. It’s the boldest move he’s mad all night. You relent, he doesn’t have to twist your arm, your bills are already doing most of that. “I had a really good night, it’s worth it.”

You smile. A real smile. You can’t lie and say you didn’t. 

“I did too,” you say, “thank you, Steve.”

He blushes and turns to watch the server as she approaches again. He fumbles around his jacket and takes out his wallet. His hands are shaking. You’d finally calmed his nerves but they just as quickly bubble up. Bucky is less than an honest man but you suspect he didn’t lie about everything.

But what did he tell Steve? Is this a date? Or are you a hired escort? That makes your chest twinge. You’ve never been overly sentimental, you’ve had your share of one night stands, but you don’t want this to be like those.

As Steve folds up his wallet and thanks the server, you brush his arm with your knuckles, “hey, do you wanna walk through the park? Elizabeth Square is near here, I’ve never been to see the fountain.”

He turns to you with wide eyes, “really?”

“Sure, why not? Unless… I’m keeping you.”

He shakes his head and a broad grin spreads across his pointed features, “I’d love that.”

You nod and gather up your purse. You stand and pull on your jacket as Steve rises on the other side of the table and smooths his jacket. His pants are a little too long but he looks nice. You can tell he put a lot of thought into tonight.

He gestures you ahead of him, “ladies first.”

You accept and lead him between the tables. He’s quick as you reach the front door and flits around to open it for you. He really is playing the gentleman well.

As you get outside, you wait for him on the sidewalk and as he nears, you turn to walk parallel with him down the wide pavement. He’s quiet as he twiddles his slender fingers at his side. You take out your lip gloss to retouch your lips, twisting the cap on and tucking it away before you figure out what to say.

“You don’t really think I’m a lady, do you?” You kid.

He peeks over at you, “of course I do.”

“Steve,” you hum, flattered by his sincerity. You don’t know what to say. 

You sidle closer with your next step and take his hand, twining your fingers through his as he flinches. He jitters then squeezes. You can feel him beaming.

“I like you, Steve,” you say, “but I think I might disappoint you.”

“You could never,” he counters.

“We barely know each other.”

“Yet.”

“Steve,” you chide as you turn through the archway of Elizabeth Square. You look up at the big letters wrought in iron. “I’m trying to warn you.”

“I don’t need to be warned,” he says, “I can handle it. I can handle you.”

You almost laugh. He’s brave when he wants to be. Just like back in the coffee shop.

You near the fountain and sigh, watching the water lap down over the lit basin. Heat seeps into you from your interlocked hands as he stops beside you. You both just stare at the spouting streams.

You tug on his arm and turn to him. He glances over shyly, “this is romantic, isn’t it?”

He chuckles nervously, “sure.”

“I think… if you want to,” you push your shoulder up and tilt your head, “it might be the perfect time to kiss me.”

He gulps and shifts to face you, “really?”

You arch a brow, “my lip gloss tastes like cherry.”

His mouth opens slightly and he sways, “cherry?”

You smile and lean in, stopping just before him as you pucker your lips. His brows rise high on his forehead and his cheeks brighten rosily. He steps close and meets your lips with his as he closes your eyes and you do the same. He presses against your lips before he shyly recoils.

He lets go of your hand and covers his mouth, “sorry, I never– was that bad.”

“Not at all,” you flick your lashes open, “that was sweet.”

“Sweet?” He murmurs.

“Come on,” you turn and sit on the wide ledges of the fountain, “we can work on it.”

“Work on it?” He squeaks.

You slap the marble next to you, “Steve, let me show you how to work in the tongue, that’s the fun part.” He looks like he’s about to faint. You laugh as he sits stiffly and you rub his back, “or not.  You don’t have to do anything you don’t like.”

“No, I want to,” he pokes his tongue out to lick his lips, turning his head to you slowly, “you’re right, it’s cherry.”

You giggle and lean on the heel of your hand, bringing your other hand to his cheek. He grabs your wrist and pulls your touch away, surprising you as he frames your face instead. He grips your chin as he leans in and smushes his lips to yours again. 

You open your mouth slightly and slip your tongue along his lips, welcoming him in. He takes your invitation as his hand crawls up your jaw, firmly holding your head. You lean into him, purring as you rest your hand just above his knee. Why hadn’t you tried a nice guy before?

#skinny steve rogers #steve rogers #bucky barnes #dark!bucky barnes #steve rogers x reader #dark bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #wasted #the club #au #drabble #series #mcu #marvel #avengers #captain america #winter soldier

[ronearoundblindly]

'Item 107' Masterlist

skinny!demigod!Steve Rogers x bewitched!soulmate!Reader a Beauty and the Beast AU (sorta)

Summary: Steve has lived a long, long life, gaining energy and power through his art, but he's lonely. Ages ago, he painted one piece to draw his one true partner to his waiting arms, and he waited. He waited and waited. Nothing happened, and Steve gave in to his fury. When reader shows up interested in that faded and ugly canvas, Steve is too bitter to fathom why. Will he notice who you are to him? Will he make space in his life for you?

Romance 🔥 || Smut 🦆 || Angst ⛈ || Fluff 🌼 || Dark Fic 🌘

Gesso-Prepped Canvas

Tonal Background

Adjust Brush and Color

Set To Dry

[Main Masterlist]

#steve rogers fanfiction #item 107 #skinny!steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers fic #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers smut #steve rogers x reader smut #skinny!demigod!steve #beauty and the beast au #artist!steve rogers #artist steve #steve rogers series

[jamneuromain]

Oh hello my dear friend 🥰🥰

Ok, so... For the bingo... Can I have the request?

About the party, it's doesn't matter if it's big no not, fancy or you know, just for friends and family.

But yeah I wish for best friend reader and pre-serum Steve Rogers lol (40s isnot nessasary)

So you live in the same block or just neighbors, and he doesn't like the whole loud pary, so he said he want to leave. Of course you want to go home since you feel bored too.

But when you walk several meters from the party, you suddenly aware that you forget your jacket!! So you just tell Steve that you have to back to the party and that he can go home first.

But, when you rush into the party, take your jacket and said goodbye again to your friends. You found that Steve walk back to the front doors of the party place and waiting for you.

Have a nice day 😊😊💕😊

Hi nana😌❤️❤️ I absolutely love this idea. I might have changed it a bit into Reader looking for Steve to leave, but I think this works with the plot hehehe

Hope you'll enjoy it😘

Spiked Punch

Steve Rogers x You

Warning: Party, cursing

Summary: After two punch and being bored to death at a college party, you decide to find Steve and head home.

A/N: My seventh entry to the bingo challenge hosted by @the-slumberparty. The idiot-part came from an inspiration from @rogerswifesblog/@rogerswifesblog-updates <3

You've never been a party gal.

You hate it when it's hot and smothering in a small space.

You absolutely loathe it when there are loud music and drunken ... people involved. Seeing the drunken frat boys and sorority girls tangled up all together, kissing but looking as if they are about to suck each other's face off... just, eww.

College parties are definitely not for you.

Bucky, on the other hand, is a different human being. Bucky is enjoying the best time of his life, joining the fraternity with a bunch of stupid Greek letters on a T-shirt, partying all night and drinking till he can't tell which room is his own bedroom. That's his jam.

The last time you saw him at this party, roughly fifteen minutes ago, he was holding two sorority girls on his laps, making out with both of them, and to you, this looks like the start of a threesome. So you slipped from one room to another, trying to find Steve.

You came here with Steve. Being (almost) lifelong friend of both Steve and Bucky, you met them when you were four years old.

You don't remember any of that, but your mother told you one of the kids in this neighborhood shoved you to the curb into the traffic. And if it weren't Steve and Bucky who bravely - they are also four, by the way, ran in front of a freight car while the other pulled you to the sidewalk. You would not be still alive at this moment.

Kitchen - living room - hallway - accidentally walking into the library but the frat boys in there are burning book pages to smoke pot - one turn, then another, and you are back where you started, the kitchen.

Christ.

Only two punches and now you're unable to tell if you have entered the door to the left, or if it's the "library" you just passed. You really should have listened to Steve, who heard from his roommate that college parties always have their punch spiked.

Speaking of Steve, you really wished you could be by his side for this party but your friends dragged you away as soon as you showed up, talking about a giant slide at the back of the frat house, connecting the roof to the ground.

It's a miracle that the frat brothers still have their head and their spine intact.

This reminds you that Steve could be at the back of the house - hopefully he wouldn't be catching some sorority's eyes and got pinned to a wall and making out. Not that you wouldn't want him to get a girlfriend. No. You wish the best for him.

Absolutely the best. Which means those dumb girls with only "ten tips of making you lose more weight" in their head are no good for him.

You walk around the house to reach the backyard, where Steve sits on a bench all by himself, the phone in his hand, pending on a messaging interface.

"Hey, ready to go?" You sit down, swinging an arm around his shoulders.

Okay, so maybe you are a little dizzy due to the weird fruit punch. And your arm is a bit too tight around Steve's skinny shoulders. So tight that he leans towards you, nearly banging his head on your shoulders.

He quickly swipes the messaging app away and tucks the phone in his pocket, patting his hand on your back, hesitant and soft, "Yeah, I've been ... I'm thinking the same. Got a lecture tomorrow at 8:30."

You hum in agreement, quickly letting go of his shoulder and raising a big smile, "C'mon."

"And Buck?" Steve shrugs on his large jacket when he gets up from the bench, "should we tell him we're going?"

"Pfft." You tug on the corner of his sleeve, urging him to go, "He's a big boy. He'll be fine."

The image of Bucky tongue-kissing two girls at the same time makes you shiver. Even if you adore Bucky - you adore Bucky and Steve both, it's cringe, watching your friend making out with someone else.

And you rather not know about Bucky's (what he claimed to be - healthy) relationships, although you enjoy gossips as everybody else.

You are on your way back to your dorms. You love it that the three of you don't live far away from one another. A drop by, a visit is so simple when Steve basically lives the building right next to your place, and the frat house Bucky's living is a 10-minute walk away.

Escaping the crowd, you and Steve walk back to your places. Dim, orange streetlamps barely covers the sidewalk as you and Steve head home. Where you and Steve embrace this little peace and quiet that's hard to come by.

"So... uh... I've been texting you just now." Steve starts, awkwardly, clenching his phone in his pocket.

"Texting?" You almost forget about your phone, but surely it's in your back pocket - "Oh shit." You murmur, when your hand reminds you that your back pocket is empty, "Oh shit, my phone!" Your eyes widen in panic, while Steve takes a few more seconds to understand your trouble.

"Did you lost it? Did you bring it there? Did you-"

He looks more anxious than you are.

"I did. I checked my emails before I went inside. I put it..." your voice trails away as you try to remember, "Fuck, I think it's in my jacket. I left it in the cloak room because the house is too warm."

It is five meters away from his place, and you sigh, "Shit. Guess I have to go back and get my jacket. Look, just get inside. I'll text you when I get my phone back, okay?"

"But-"

You didn't wait for his reply before you start to run to the frat house. You hope it isn't too late for your jacket and your phone. You heard there might be pick-pocketing in some of the parties.

After what feels like forever - which is five minutes, you are relieved to find your jacket, your keys, your phone, and everything in your pocket is still intact, right where you left them in the cloak room.

You briefly say goodbye to Bucky on your way out when he's yelling for either Cherry or Cheryl at the door, though his brain is completely toasted by alcohol, and fails to match your face with his memory. You doubt he will even remember this encounter in the morning.

"Idiot." You mutter under your breath, after Bucky shoves past you, now sing-songing that girl's name, clearly way too drunk to remember anything more than the syllable "Cher".

See, that's why you hate people drinking.

As you shrug on your jacket for the chilly night, and pulls out your phone to check your messages again, you almost stumble upon someone standing right in front of you.

"Steve?" Your raise your head from your phone. You have yet to read his messages, finger hovering above the messaging app, but you are too surprised to open them anyways, "What are you doing here? I thought I told you to go back to your dorm?"

It's sweet for him to wanting to accompany you back here, and walk you home again. It really is. And you are glad to see him, even if it means you have to carry an EpiPen and an inhaler all day for him, just in case his ran out.

Steve looks pale. He is pale since he's a kid. His body can't carry enough iron so he has to take supplements to prevent him from worse affects of anemia. He purses his lips into a line, staring at you for a moment, looking sad, "It's Bucky, isn't it?"

"What's about Bucky?" Shoving the phone away, you eye him suspiciously, "Did you eat the mushrooms those sorority girls offer you and start to have visions?"

He gestures to your phone, "It's Bucky. And you don't want to..."

He didn't finish his sentence. Looking at you as if there's something way bigger than this strange conversation he is starting.

"Never mind." He murmurs, kicking a small pebble under his shoes into the grass.

"No?" You elbow his arm, "You're being weird. Spill."

"It's just..." Steve looks frustrated, "you haven't looked right since you saw him kissing. And I can't offer you any ... anything because ... And you saw my message, but don't want to answer directly without..."

"What on earth are you talking about?" You furrow your brows into a knot, "What does Bucky has to do with... whatever you're talking about? With me? And what's the message? And why are you acting strange?"

"You like Bucky!" He blurts out.

You are completely awe-struck. "WHAT?"

"You got upset when he kissed those girls! And then you came to find me asking to go home. And now you want to tell him that you love him -"

"Hold on for a second -" You growl.

"But he's drunk! I know you hate others getting drunk and you still said your goodbyes! Calling him an idiot behind his back just now because he's yelling for those dumb blondes instead of-"

Your blood has just gone cold.

He can't possibly think that you are into that sweet dumb brunet? Bucky has never been the center of your attention. And you only came to this party because Bucky said he invited -

"You're being ridiculous." You huff, barely containing your anger and disappointment as you choose to head home instead of listening to his nonsense.

"I know it's wrong of me to just send you a text and tell you how I feel about you-"

This definitely put a halt to your steps.

"-and I like you and you know Buck. You know who he is and I don't want you getting hurt-" Steve says miserably, almost at a last resort, salvaging what he clearly has ruined. A perfect friendship.

Sure, he likes you. What's not to be liked? Your humor? Your sass? Even you getting mad is cute for him. He couldn't help but say how much he likes you via words, because he's too nervous to say so in person. He should've kept it to himself, even if this means that he would be heart broken watching you smiling and laughing and treat ing him as a friend.

You turn around and take a few steps to him, making him gulp nervously, but still saying out loud, "He's a heart-breaker. We know that. You know that. I love you and I-"

Before you shut his mouth with a kiss.

And bite his plump lower lip.

"Ouch!" He covers his lips with his hand, feeling the swell where you bit him.

"You are a big fucking idiot, Steven Grant Rogers." You retort. The spiked fruit punch encourages you to swing your arms around his neck, as his body remains frozen, "There, happy? Calling you an idiot right to your face?"

"What-"

"Or do you need me to kiss you again to realize that I, in fact, love you back?"

Find my The Slumber Party Present Bingo Challenge here 👈

Questions? Comments? Requests? 👉Send them to my inbox 👂

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #skinny!steve #steve rogers fluff #jnmanswers #inbox <3 #writing challenge #the slumber party writing challenge

[georgiapeach30513]

What’s Wrong & What’s Right, Part 2

Summary:  Things are about to get more interesting.  Steve makes you a promise, but does Johnny as well?

Pairings:  Steve Rogers X Reader, Nick Fowler X Reader, Johnny Storm X Reader

Rating:  explicit

Warnings:  explicit language, explicit sexual content, ABO dynamics, slapping,  biting/marking, scenting, manipulation, kidnapping, Omega trafficking, unprotected sex, knotting, 18+ ONLY

Word Count:  2.3K

Previous

Series Masterlist

*dividers created by @firefly-graphics​

Nick has never let any designation have so much power over him, and somehow, you, an Omega have it all. He found himself watching you on the cameras more, found the random excuse to visit you, and even retrieved a few of your clothes from the wash, just to have that sweet smell of you surrounding him always. Nick wasn’t like this. He was chosen to be in this close proximity because he could handle the needs of Omegas without pushing past their boundaries, not anymore.  You had changed that, and he hated it, and didn’t understand it.

Even now as he stares at a more troublesome Omega in your room. He was causing problems to this operation. He growls when he sees your image reach towards Steve’s marks. It had cost too much money to remove those bonds. Male Omegas were rare, and the Royal Pony wanted something special. He was that thing. Regardless of the problems he posed.

You were beginning to get curious about the normal life of an Omega. But the other ones were not a fan of yours. They could feel the adoration coming from Nick. They could smell your need to please him. And you never had the amount of clients they did.  You were unique, and he couldn’t let just any Beta have you.

What they didn’t understand was you were special. Had never been mated or taken a knot. You in fact were the rare one.

He lifts his highball glass to his lips, the ice clinking, and he lets the harsh bitterness of the dark liquor try to take his mind off things. Peggy walks into the office staring at him. Sweat lining his brow, and she wants to laugh, he’d brought this on himself. She decided not to stop the other Omegas from messing with your suppressants.

“Sir?”

“What?” Nick slams his fist down on the desk, spinning around to glare at her. “What do you want now, Omega?”

“I was told to tell you that Johnny Storm has called for another meeting.”

With every breath Nick takes, a growl exits his throat, and Peggy can’t help but to giggle at his predicament. Johnny had never wanted a second meeting with any of the other Omegas, and he had gone through all of them.  “Also, turn on the news.”

“Make sure Steve isn’t romanticizing his marks! She’s too curious.”

“I’m sure it has nothing to do with you scenting her every chance you get. Sucking on her mating gland,” his hand connects to her face, and she grabs ahold of it, yelping in pain.

“I told you to shut your fucking mouth about that. Do not test me Omega. That was strike three. Go clean the fucking toilets and make yourself useful.”

“His mates are making an announcement later. Make sure you tune in,” Peggy spits up at him before following his Alpha command.

You giggle at Steve, shaking your head no. But with a grab of both your hands he places them on his marks, “Massage them, they hurt.”

“Do you still feel them?”

“I think so,” his mouth barely turns into a smile, and you pity him. You craved for a mate, but this seems so much more cruel. It was inhumane to rip Steve away from them. “I can still smell them. He was mint and leather, and she was woody, only a small bit of lavender. They were perfect. They’ll find me. And I’m bringing you with me.”

Dropping your hands in his lap, your face turns down, “I don’t want to leave Nick. He’s mine, I can feel it,” the mere mention of Nick’s name making your mating gland pulse, and Steve reaches up, tickling the area with his thumb.

“He won’t claim you.”

“He will,” your voice goes a bit louder, but one look into Steve’s eyes, and you can’t stay mad. He gives you a sheepish grin, running his thumb over your blemish free neck all but the faded hickey, and your eyes cast to the bed. “He will.”

“Why do you think that?”

“I’ve seen his eyes, and…”

“Steven, that will be all for today,” Nick tells the small man, as he walks into your room. Mad again. His anger has you needing to hold him. Steve gives you a pitiful smile before he walks towards the door, getting stopped by Nick, who holds his arm roughly.

“If you don’t quit with this talk, I’ll give you five clients in one day. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, Alpha.”

You don’t rush over to Nick like you normally do, making him stare at you confused. “Omega?”

“You shouldn’t be so mean to him. Steve is precious. Take it back,” you had never spoken out of turn. Someone was getting to you, and he wasn’t sure who.

Nick starts backing you up to the bed, and you smell a spike in his scent, clouding your judgment, and your designation taking over and you tilt your head, reaching to pull down your panties. “Nick,” you whimper.

His eyes dark pools of lust when he guides you to the bed. Laying you down, while he hovers over you. “Nick, it’s right there.”

Your hand palms him over his jeans, shuttering at actually touching him.

“My god, you smell so good,” his voice raspy as his nose rubs over your throbbing mating gland. Biting back the urge to not claim you. “Dammit.”

“Nick, please,” you push your thighs further apart, and he glances down. Your thighs glistening with slick, and you still had those stupid cotton panties on. With a quick movement of his hand he has them ripped off, and he spreads your thighs further. Staring at your exposed core. “Alpha?”

Oh he wished you hadn’t said that. Wished you weren’t beaming up at him. Your hand roams through your folds, and you give him a sweet smile, “Alpha, it could be yours,” your head still tilted, and run your hand over your gland. “Everyday.”

“Omega, you’re teasing me,” you give him a little pout, but it doesn’t stop your haggard breathing. Your gland showing how fast your heart was beating, “But you are a pretty little thing. Such a sweet and almost pure Omega.”

Purring at his praise, he moves back down to hover over your body. So close and still not where you want him. Bringing your hand to caress his mating gland, he tilts his head to the side for better access. He had never given you much of him. Never had given you the ability to kiss along his neck.

His scent was becoming stronger, deeper. You roll your eyes in the back of your head when your teeth make contact with his skin, and he pushes you back down to the bed.

“I have to go,” Nick shouts, crawling off your bed. He stomps down the hallway, grabbing a key off his desk, he’ll be going to the basement for a few days.

“Peggy, have Marshall oversee the business. I need a few days. Storm has no reason to visit.”

“He’s doubled his price.”

“Dammit,” he grunts. Wiping the sweat off his brow. He had to get out of here. “One hour.”

“He paid for two.”

“She,” he doesn’t want to tell her. Definitely doesn’t want Johnny to know. “Give her a few days. She’s in heat.”

“And you’re in rut. How poetic.”

“I’ll slap you everyday, until you learn your place!” he slaps at her face again, seething that she dares to bring this up.

“It’s her scent. You’re pushing your boundaries. Johnny is a Beta, this should be a fun exercise for her.”

“I said no!”

“And Peggy makes sense,” Nick nods his head at Marshall, while he looks into your bedroom. “She’s only started,” he smells you all over Nick, and it gives him enough pause not to go to the basement. “Johnny Storm paid double the asking price. He’ll get that, and with one very needy Omega. You’re dismissed. Peggy, once Storm leaves. Bring our sweet Fireball some of Nick’s clothes. He’s the one that started this mess. And don’t try and deny that you aren’t scenting her every fucking day. What did you think would happen? Get out of my sight,” flicking his hand towards him he gives a nod to Peggy.

“Leave her be for now, something tells me Storm will like her needy and dripping wet.  A Beta with a huge Alpha complex.  This should be interesting.  Have one of the Betas take some waters to Nick’s cage for the next few days.  He’ll get thirsty.”

You clutch at your stomach, rolling yourself up into a ball. Thinking about how this happened. The suppressants have always worked. Nick made sure you took them daily. And now it was just blinding pain.

“Holy shit,” Johnny walks over to your bed, clicking his tongue. He places a hand over your forehead, and wants to scream at the Pony for letting him even enter this room.

“It hurts.”

“I know it does,” he coos. Your body naturally tries to shuffle closer to him, and he wants to bring himself out of his designation for the moment, but you need him. You were hurting, running a fever, and you needed release. “What do you want me to do?”

“Make it stop,” you whine at him. Reaching out a hand to him. He looks at the appendage, before looking at you. “Please, Alpha. I need you.”

“Shit shit shit. No, this…no. I haven’t even got time to play with you, and now I’m walking into you in full blown heat? No, you’re supposed to be on suppressants. I thought you smelled extra sweet that first time. Where are they?”

“Nick gives them to me, he keeps them in the office. Please, Johnny, it hurts!”

“Don’t use that voice on me. I’m weak. I can’t…holy shit,” groaning when you spread your legs for him. You were drenched. “I’d be doing you a favor.”

“Uh huh. There’s covers,” you try and pull open a drawer, but Johnny starts walking closer to you.

“You forget, I’m a real Alpha. I don’t need to fake my knot,” you stare up at him owlishly, but when he gets close enough, you’re pulling at his hips. “That fucking collar on your neck. What would they do if you had an Alpha claim on you? Think they’d have the bond removed?”

“Johnny?”

“That’s Alpha. Now, I’m going to do what Nick couldn’t. I’m going to take care of you,” his deep voice traveling right to your core, and you pull him into you.

Johnny snarls at the smell of Nick all over you. Tugging at his pants to get away from the stench if only for a second. Your sweet little cries, making his cock twitch. He was doing you a favor. You needed this relief. When he yanks off his shirt, your hands smooth over his hard chest, and he falters a moment. This wasn’t the magical moment he had envisioned, but you were trembling. A deep ache running all through your body, and he had to help you.

“Alpha,” you whisper so sweetly, just before he crashes into your wet heat. Your eyes turning completely black. His hips pushing him into you almost too gently. Arching your back, he rips off your dress. Sighing at the mild form of his strength, he has to look directly into your eyes. That gland deeply pulsing, visible even with the collar. Beating with an even deeper need. A need to be claimed and owned.

“You really are the perfect Omega, huh?” biting your lip you nod up at him, and he loses some self control. His pace changes to pounding into you. Bringing himself closer to that collar, he nuzzles over the leather. “Fucking Nick, this would be so much better without him. Has he touched you?”

“No, sir.”

“Of course he hasn’t. He just wants to make you weak and compliant for his own selfish needs. You want it?” feeling your walls flutter around him, he knows you’re so close, right at the edge of the best euphoria of your life.  Getting a high off just thinking about having his knot.  Your body was made to take whatever he decided to give you.  Molding perfectly to his cock, and he knows the best is yet to come. And the way you were gripping tight to his back, hugging his length immaculately, he’s close too. “Do you want it, Omega?”

“Yes! Please!” splitting you in half when he drives into you with such force, deep into your womb. His knot expanding, and you sob out his name, your nails digging into his back, making him hiss out in a pleasured pain. “Johnny.”

“Shh, enjoy this. You look so pretty with tears in your eyes. No one can ever take this away from me,” kissing around your hairline, he blows a cool bit of air in your sweaty and sticky skin. “It’s okay, to rest now.”

Nick turns on the tv in the basement, and he couldn’t miss them if he tried. Another fucking press conference. “Fucking hell! Marshall is going to ruin us all. He had to have that skinny little bitch.”

Bucky grabs Natasha’s hands as they walk up to the podium, sick and out of their minds from losing their mate. Bucky, a highly skilled detective, and Natasha, a brutal lawyer were not ones to be messed with, and they were putting all their effort into finding Steve.

“There have been rumors of Omegas being kidnapped and taken into brothels. Omegas are not pets. They are to be cherished, and ours was. He’s now been missing for six months, the number of missing Omegas is growing, and we have to be vigilant in capturing the ones doing this. If you have any information about our Omega, or any of the missing ones, you can call the hotline. Detective Barnes and myself may be in search for what is ours, but in the process we’re searching for other’s mates as well. Just bring him and the other scared Omegas home. We have teamed up with another who lost their unclaimed Omega. Taken the night before their wedding. He has helped us in our efforts, so please welcome...”

Growling Nick throws the tv to a wall. They were screwed, and if he found you, there would be hell to pay. Kidnapping you was on Nick. But you came willingly. You didn’t want to stay with him. Nick saved you.  He takes a deep calming breath, he was going to have to do something he said he wouldn’t. Nick was trying to save you.

Next

Masterlist

Taglist:  @tis-thedamn-season @marveloustaylortot @pono-pura-vida @sstan-hoe @peaches1958 @infatuatedjanes @whimsyplaty92 @rebekahdawkins @johndeaconshands @thedarkplume @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @sgtjaamesbaarnes​ @charmed-asylum​ 

#what's wrong and what's right #abo #a/b/o au #alpha!nick fowler #nick fowler x reader #nick fowler x fem!reader #nick fowler x y/n #nick fowler x you #alpha!johnny storm #johnny storm #johnny storm x reader #johnny storm x fem!reader #johnny storm x y/n #johnny storm x you #skinny!steve #steve rogers #bucky barnes #natasha romanoff #johnny storm smut

[darkmasterlistyouneveraskedfor]

Paper Doll Masterlist

Summary: A patron at your family’s bar becomes an overly devoted regular. (Skinny Steve Rogers)

Status: In Progress

Part 1

Part 2

#steve rogers #skinny steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #dark fic #dark!fic #fic #series #mcu #marvel #captain america #au

[lillywillow]

It Started With a Jar

Summary: When Steve can’t get a jar of pickles open, he heads to the gym for help

 Word Count: 1452

 Written for: @the-slumberparty ‘s Week Four: Across the Universe challenge (Modern AU)

 Pairings: Skinny!Steve Rogers x StrongWoman!Reader (No descriptions of body though)

 Warnings: Mentions of injuries, use of pet names, some bullying

 One afternoon, Steve decided he wanted some pickles for a snack. He grabbed the jar and tried to open the lid but it wouldn’t budge. He tried using a towel, a grip, running it under hot water and banging it against the counter but the lid was stuck tight. Normally, Steve would ask his roommate Bucky with a problem like this but he was out of town for the day. He could ask Sam but he would tease him first. Sure, he could wait until later to have his snack but his desire for a pickle really outweighed his patience. Maybe… maybe someone at the local gym could help him with his problem.

…

 As Steve looked around the gym, he felt intimidated. Most of these guys looked like they could snap him in two and they probably could… that’s why he decided not to bother them. He looked around for someone who looked less like they would be annoyed if he asked them something so silly. That’s when he spotted a woman who had just finished a workout and was wiping off her machine.

 “Um, excuse me,” Steve began, waiting for her response.

 “Yeah?” she replied, taking out an earbud to hear him better.

 “I… I know this sounds silly but I was wondering if… if you might be able to help me open this…” he stated, presenting the jar. “I tried everything at home and it just wouldn’t open…”

 The woman gave him a warm smile that sent butterflies swarming in the pit of his stomach.

 “Sure thing, cutie,” she smiled, extending her hand for the jar.

 Steve handed over the item and she attempted to pry the lid off.

 “My, it is a bit tight, isn’t it?” she grunted, placing the jar between her knees for better leverage.

 The fact that even someone like her was struggling with it proved to Steve how badly stuck this lid was on. Finally, the damn thing relented with a soft pop.

 “There you go, hon. That was a tough one…” she softly sighed, handing the pickles back to him.

 “Thank you so much,” Steve beamed. “Um… would you like one?” he offered.

 “No, thank you, sweets. If you ever have that problem again, just ask for Y/N,” she smiled.

 “I’m Steve,” he replied.

 “I hope to see you around again, Steve,” Y/N smiled as she headed to the locker rooms.

 As Steve headed home with his jar of pickles, he really did hope he would see her again.

…

 A few weeks went by and Steve would come to the gym to ask for your help opening jars. It got to a point where you enjoyed his visits. You started getting something to eat or drink with him after your sessions and had pleasant conversations. Sometimes, Steve would help you out with your forms, sometimes, he would bring his art book and draw. It never bothered you. Steve would sit out of the way, occasionally glancing up at you before looking back at whatever piece he was working on. You just smiled and went on with your workout. There were however, some jerks that did object to having this sweet guy on their territory.

 One day, Steve was going about his business drawing when some big dude knocked his book out of his hand. He tried to recover it but another guy stepped on his hand. Steve winced and looked up at the two bullies.

 “You don’t belong here, string bean,” one of them sneered.

 “Yeah,” the other repeated with the same sinister look on his face.

 “Hey!” you shouted, abandoning your weights and rushing over to them. “Leave him alone!”

 “He doesn’t even work out!” one of the men protested, shifting his foot from Steve’s hand.

 “So what? He’s not hurting anyone,” you retorted.

 “Let’s see what management has to say about him being him,” the other one threatened.

 “Yeah, you go ahead and do that Bruno. I’m sure they’d be very interested in knowing that your membership here expired two years ago but you’re still coming…”

 The one identified as Bruno backed off.

 “And you, Julian… I’m sure they’d also like to know about that so-called documentary you shot in the men’s locker-room…”

 Defeated, the two men walked away. You instantly knelt down to tend to Steve.

 “Are you okay, baby boy? Did he hurt you?” you asked, gently taking the hand that had been stepped on in yours to assess the damage.

 “I’m okay. I think it feels worse than it looks,” he sniffled.

 “Let’s take a break now,” you suggested, helping Steve pick up the pages that had fallen out of his book.

 As you picked up the pieces of paper, you noticed most of the drawings were of you. Some of them were of you in your athletic clothes, some were of you posed mid-workout but reimagined into some kind of warrior or goddess engaged in battle. You felt flattered. Steve blushed furiously when he noticed you looking at those ones in particular.

 “I’m so sorry,” he began, becoming all flustered.

 “Don’t worry about it, Stevie. I did give you my permission to draw me… I just find it amazing this how you see me,” you softly smiled.

 Steve smiled back, his blush creeping down his neck and tinting the tips of his ears. You found him utterly adorable. His face suddenly fell as he looked over your shoulder. You followed his gaze to where Bruno was being obnoxious on the other side of the gym.

 “Do you think he’s right? About me?” Steve asked sadly.

 You scoffed at the idea.

 “Don’t listen to those two morons. Between them they share half a braincell. They just pick on anyone that doesn’t fit into their perfect little ideals of what gymgoers should look like. They did it to me when I first started coming, now I can bench-press as much as them if not more.”

 This made Steve smile a little.

 “Do you think I could try a workout?” he asked.

 “Of course,” you softly smiled.

 After taking a little break to make sure Steve’s hand was okay, you started him with the lightest weights.

 “Shouldn’t I have heavier weights?” he asked, noticing how easy it was to pick them up.

 You shook your head.

 “The key thing to remember with weight training is that it’s a marathon, not a sprint. You move too fast, too quickly and you’ll end up hurting yourself. I’ve seen guys who have had muscles pull off the bone because they tried to go too hard,” you explained.

 Steve nodded slowly. You slowly guided him through his workout, giving him advice on which exercises he should be doing. By the end of the session, Steve was sore but felt good.

…

 After that day, Steve started to join you in your workouts as a partner. You added him to your friend pass so he could continue coming without being harassed by staff or any other jerks like Julian and Bruno. Within a few weeks, Steve could already see some improvements. It was becoming his favourite part of his day because not only did he like the post-workout feeling but he loved spending time with you. He also enjoyed going out for a bite to eat after.

 You also admired Steve’s commitment to getting stronger. He was so passionate about everything he tried and listened to your advice when you gave it rather than trying to push through and damaging his body.

 After one really good session, you and Steve were just wrapping things up.

 “Good job today, Steve. I’m proud of you,” you praised.

 Steve beamed at your words. They meant a lot to him.

 “Um, Y/N?”

 “Yes, Steve?”

 “I was just wondering… we’ve known each other for a while now and I was wondering if… maybe we could go out on a proper date? It’s cool if you say no, I just…”

 You cut off his rambling with a kiss to the cheek.

 “I’d love to go on a date with you. Shall we discuss over our usual lunch where we could go to dinner?”

 Steve grinned and nodded. As he watched you head to the lady’s locker room, he couldn’t help but think how lucky he was to have met you. And to think, it never would have happened if he didn’t a craving for pickles all that long ago.

#navy and roo's sleepover #navy and roo sleepover #Week 4 #marvel #marvel fanfiction #marvel one shot #Steve Rogers #steve rogers x reader #Skinny Steve #gym

[1000night]

Papa's Day

characters : skinny Steve, Jake Jensen, Andy Barber, Ari Levinson

warnings: fluffy, implied smut, 18+

a/n: 8/8 is Taiwan's father's day (sounds like papa in Mandarin) so I write this to celebrate. I thought I won't do this because the motivation is lowkey

LIKE AND REBLOG IT PLEASE

Skinny Steve

"Papa! papa wakey up!"

The toddler rushed into the bedroom, hopped the bed and patted her sleepy father.

Steve opened his eyes, admiring the small angel whose appearance and spirit mix with him and you, his goddess.

"Morning, princess." The same blue eyes looked at him with starts shining in, she pouted

"Mama says today is your day, we will celebrate it together! Come down the hall, papa!"

"But I'm still sleepy..."

The back of his right hand stroked her chubby face

"But...but mama said...um..."

The same way struggling adorable face and the pleading puppy dog eyes

When you couldn't bear one more time for his unsatisfied love making, you would always looking at him like that...

Oh...he shouldn't think about that in front of your daughter...

He smiled and blinked away the shadow of greed and lust, scooped up the little girl in his arms and kissed her forehead.

"Tell mama that I'll be there soon, okay?"

"Okay."

After she ran out the room, he came into the bathroom, humming while guessing what the present he'd receive this year.

Jake Jensen

"Dad, are you done?"

"Yeah, the competition is nearly beginning. Please don't distracted mom, and don't wear those weird and nerd shirt please."

Jake groaned while he giving you another sloppy kiss, you whimper when his warm hands kneading your breasts.

"Jake..."

"I know, honey. But you're so beautiful and gorgeous. I don't want those bastard stared at my wifey hungrily."

He nipped your back of neck and murmuring

"Let the twin boys wait for a little bit longer...nothing could stop me claiming my beautiful treasure."

Andy Barber

The sounds of small steps and knocking door wake you and your husband up. But you both are too tired to leave the bed.

"Angel, they're still sleeping. Come on, what do you wanna do? I could accompany you today."

Your son, Jacob's voice is tender and patience

"It's papa's day. I want to celebrate with evewyone..."

"Yeah, but they both came home late because of works. Let them take more rest, we could prepare lunch for them as the first surprise, shall we?"

"All right..."

Their sound faded away, you smile and peck your husband's lips

"I thought Jacob would against that we have child, but he's a ideal type of brother to her."

Andy hold you closer, his hands drawing circles on your hips

"He protested once, before I show him the picture of our bean. He immediately change his attitude when he saw that. I know he's been want to be a big brother so long."

"Like father like son."

He smirks when he heard what you said, Jacob and he both have been through so much terrible things, Jacob realize that they all need to meet someone. You are the one to Andy, and the little bean is a new ray of sunshine to Jacob.

"Speaking of...I think it's time to open my gifts for Father's day. What do you think, sunshine?"

Your eyes widened while you trying to crawl out the bed, but his long arms and big hand hooks your waist and pulls you back

"Andy...it's too much.. the last night we just...mmph—!"

The hard pressure against your abused mound let you gasp in his mouth.

"Oh no, sunshine, I clearly remember that I said I'll feast you today—and now I'll keep my promises."

Ari Levinson

You came home with the worry clouds your mind.

Ari will back from his mission today, and you're not sure if it's a modest time to tell him the news.

You didn't want to deal with the bun who will be baked done after several months alone. But you didn't want to see his reactions, either.

It's complicated to describe your relationship, you waiting for him back, life with him, love him. But he never make any promises to you.

Maybe you could know what is your place to him through tonight.

"I'm back, queen bee." His voice is at the front door. You calm yourself and greet him.

"It's been a while, Ari bear."

As like the 2 months isn't long enough

"And you still as breathtakingly as in my memories." He gives you a bear hug that your legs wrap around his waist automatically.

The stable heartbeats from him and his comfortable scents trigger your tears, you couldn't stop sobbing and sniffing

"What’s wrong? Did you get hurt?"

You shook your head while your hands circle his neck

"I need to tell you something."

"No matter what it is, I'll protect you and won't let you cry except for sex, queen bee."

"...I'm pregnant."

He sighed in relief, and he's frozen

"Ari, you'll be the father. It's 3 month."

"...The night when you want to play honeybee and..."

"Yes, it's the night."

He didn't speak, his beard tickled your face when he kissed you deeply, and emotionally.

"Another bee will born in our hive..." He swing around and kept laughing like an idiot.

"It's the best gift I received, mama bee. Thank you."

The end

#skinny!steve rogers x chubby!reader #pre serum steve x reader #1000night masterlist #1000drabble series #andy barber x female chubby reader #andy barber x reader #jake jensen x female chubby reader #jake jensen x reader #steve rogers x female reader #steve rogers x reader #ari levinson x female chubby reader #ari levinson x female reader #ari levinson x reader

[imaginedreamwrite]

More Hearts Than Mine: Part 1

The spread of pictures laying in front of him had been his focus for the past hour, and still, after the time he had spent on the work, he hadn’t found a solution to his problem.

He was halfway between the point of giving up and giving in and mustering the courage to grab his camera and start entirely from scratch.

“The urge to interrupt you before you had finished was overwhelming.” The sound of someone speaking from behind him had made the lithe boy nearly jump out of his skin as a loud squeak had been ripped from his mouth, to which he had promptly slapped a hand over his mouth.

He had watched the interrupter walk toward the light desk, a stack of photos in your hand as you stepped to the desk adjacent to his. As Steve watched you work, he felt his cheeks burning with heat when his eyes seemed to inherently he fixated on your face and the way your lips moved as you mumbled something under your breath.

You had just set the photos down onto the light desk, then you had turned toward him and cocked a hip, your right hand holding a camera much like his own, and your left hand resting on the edge of the desk.

You had tilted your head, and Steve had taken the quick moment to study your campus hoodie and the tag attached to a lanyard hanging around your neck that displayed your ID, yet he couldn’t see your name.

“I’m sorry for scaring you. I did knock.” He could see you chewing the inside of your cheek, the slight puckering in your face and lips making him believe it was a nervous habit.

He had played with his fingernails, picking at them.

“Sorry.” He stumbled over his words and blushed again, averting his eyes and focusing his contemplative gaze on the pictures he was trying to arrange.

“Project for Mr. Jones?” You questioned as you started to place your pictures on the light board, just as he had on his own.

“Yeah. I’m trying…” he bit his tongue as he wiped his hands on his jeans, his palms sweaty. “…to arrange these, but it’s not….”

“Never works how you want it to.” You finished for him, speaking from experience. “Wanna work on mine, and I’ll work on yours? Get a fresh pair of eyes?”

“I don’t know you.” Steve blurt bashfully, then swallowed his words and wanted to kick himself when you laughed under your breath. “I’m sorry-“

“Y/N L/N.” you crossed the small path between the light desks and stopped a foot from where he was. “We wouldn’t be strangers if you told me your name.”

Steve blinked languidly, the ever-present blush on his cheeks deepening when he realized you weren’t trying to take a jab at him.

You weren’t asking his name while feigning interest at the ‘tall skinny kid’ who spent too much time behind the camera or behind a sketchpad. You were genuinely curious about him, and that was a change from day to day when he was so overlooked by so many different girls in his class.

He was the youngest of three by mere minutes, and yet when girls had found out who his oldest brother was, his triplet, he was like dust in the wind.

“Steve,” he answered while scratching the back of his neck, debating whether to share his last name or keep it to himself, wondering if you had known or would know his older brother.

“Since we’re not strangers anymore, Steve,” you glanced at your work over your shoulder and then peered at his, “how about a second pair of eyes?”

“Y-yeah.” Steve cleared his throat and shifted his weight from foot to foot. “Sure. That’s…good.”

“Great!” You had stood straight again and briefly moved back to your light desk to grab your pen and had tucked it behind your ear before you grabbed a small notepad. “I like to take notes. Do you mind?”

Steve shook his head and moved from his desk to yours and then leaned in with the heels of his hands resting against the edge. He had carefully studied the images in front of him, from one to the next, while formulating a plan of action, deciding which would look better where.

“I’m a transfer.” Your voice had broken the silence, and he had taken the opportunity to look your way while you were focused on his images, already rearranging the pictures. “I know it’s late to transfer; well, I mean, we’re already nearly three months in, ya know?”

“Why did you transfer?” he felt awkward with every word, his bashful and quiet nature and his inability to talk to girls without embarrassing himself, was driving the feeling of anxiousness deep within him.

“How about we move on to the next question?” You had shrugged off the question, and Steve had felt heat burst in his cheeks.

He felt as if he had pressed too much, and now he had screwed up the most extended conversation he had with a girl that didn’t revolve around his brother.

“You’re talented.” Your hands stilled, and you had turned to face him, your fingers grasping one of his black ad white pictures. “You have a real knack for photography. And…sketching?”

“Sketching?” Steve’s brows furrowed, and he pursed his lips.

“You have charcoal on your hands and your cheeks.” You had laughed under your breath, and Steve had immediately set upon wiping his cheeks free of the dust.

“I’m in art.” The answer was short, and it was fuelled with uncertainty. “I…like art.”

“I like photography and theatre.” You hummed under your breath, then exchanged one of his photos for another. “I want to be a professional photographer when I’m done with Uni. Theatre is just the tip of the ‘parental disappointment’ cake.”

“Your parents don’t approve?” He glanced toward you again, noting the silence that fell between you.

“No.” You finally answered. “No, they make it well known that I’m wasting my time playing dress-up.”

Steve had turned away again. He had focused on your images on the light table and settled himself in silence until you had announced you were done with his work.

As he stepped away and moved back to your side, he had once again leaned over the desk and roamed the setup you had completed. The range of pictures set in a way that he hadn’t even thought of, in a manner that told a story he hadn’t even known he wanted to tell.

He was so lost in the images and the arrangement that he hadn’t noticed your departure. He hadn’t seen you gathering your things; he hadn’t noticed you left until he lifted his head and opened his mouth to thank you, only to find himself alone.

He furrowed his brows and felt preemptive disappointment. He had turned toward his bag to gather his things when he noticed a slip of paper on his folder for his pictures, the hastily scribbled note. He had picked it up and studied every word, the message resounding with him as he reached for his phone and began typing away.

‘Thank you – I know this will come off as creepy, but I don’t know a lot of people yet. My number is here, and if you want to save it and text me, that’s cool. If not, you can throw this away, and I would never know.’ Beneath the note were poorly drawn stick people and an ever worse camera between them.

Steve cracked a grin and grabbed the piece of paper, folding it in his pocket before he had held his things and set them in the folder. His smile had only grown when he hadn’t even made it out the door and heard a beep; his first text was exchanged for one of yours.

Jake had been fiddling with the small cube on his desk, his eyes trained on the ceiling as he blew the air out of boredom. It had been slower than usual, and his time in the IT office as part of the student-run program had been dragging on for far too long.

Between his boredom and hearing, Peter and Ned carry the same discussion for the last hour without any change or new subtopic brought to life. As he had flung his cube in the air to catch it again, the sound of the bell at the front desk ringing had caught all their attention. The ding had been soft, yet it had drawn every distraction to a close.

“Was that-“ Jake has scrambled to his feet and swiped his ID badge from his desk, beating both Peter and Ned to the door that led to the front of the office. As he stood before the door and peered out, he could see a sleek silver laptop sitting on the desk, but not the person needing assistance.

“You got the last one,” Peter complained, drawing out the syllables. “Let me get this one-“

Jake had taken another look at the desk and had finally caught a glance at who was waiting. He was stunned silent for a moment, stunned and drawn to a place where his mind had gone blank, and all he could do was stare at the girl waiting at the desk, a faint blush crossing his cheeks when he saw you drumming your fingers on the desktop before you blew falling hair out of your face.

“I will give you everything else for the rest of the day.” Jake finally spoke, promising boredom for the sake of fixing your computer.

“Why? Who’s-“ Jake had placed his hands on Peter’s shoulders and pushed him away from the door and out view, mumbling an apology before he yanked open the door and stumbled out, his foot catching the edge of a filing cabinet.

“Are you okay?” Jake hadn’t completely tumbled, and yet you had asked about his state of being as he righted himself and rubbed the back of his neck, laughing weakly.

“Yeah. It happens all the time.” He had cleared his throat and moved toward the front desk, eyeing the laptop that had been closed to your right before he looked back at you. “You need help?”

“I was in the middle of a digital art project, the bane of my existence when the stupid thing turned black.” You grumbled and pushed the laptop toward him; your eyes narrowed at the top of the closed laptop.

“It turned off?” Jake placed his hand on top of the laptop before glancing back at you. “Just turned black?”

“I swear to God, if you make me lose everything, I will rip every wire from you and hang you from the balcony.” You threatened the computer as you set your hands on the counter and then balled your fists.

“As a message to the rest of them?” Jake cracked a grin, laughing under his breath, a blush dusting across his cheeks and the bridge of his nose.

“Start with one. The rest will learn.” Your smile had been brief; then it fell as exhaustion and hopelessness flitted over you. “Do you think you could save what I have?”

Jake had moved his hand from the top of the laptop before he lifted the lid and tapped the power button a few times, his lips pursed. He had a few thoughts about what could have been the problem; the first suggestion was the battery. However, the laptop looked like it was in good shape; it was not a little worn at the edge from being opened and closed too many times.

“I’m sure I can figure it out. Save it from destruction.” He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose before he craned his neck and glanced over his right shoulder to the locked door.

He should have taken your information and sent you on our way. He should have taken your number and your name, with the promise to call you when it was done. However, the idea to bring you to the back and have you stay a little longer was almost too tempting. You were cute, God he thought you were so cute, and you didn’t talk to him condescendingly.

You didn’t walk to him or look at him like he was a loser, which was a reaction he had gotten more often than not.

“You wanna wait in the back?” Jake’s blush had brightened when you focused your eyes on him. “I mean…it might not take long, and I would hate to send you on your way and then call you-“

“Am I allowed to?” You tilted your head, moving your attention between the laptop and the closed door.

“I mean…yeah. If I’m…with you?” Jake hesitated on his answer, and movement out of the corner of his eyes had been a telling sign that both Peter and Ned were watching him.

“Sure..?” You had hesitated just as he had, yet you followed him when he swiped your laptop from the counter and tucked it under his arm.

“My office is this way.” He had swiped his ID card and opened the door, flashing a glare toward the other two when they shared a look at your arrival in the back and Jake’s insistence that he had an ‘office.’

“Roomy.” You mumbled, stepping to the side and backing into stacked boxes as Jake had come to sit at a small desk with a monitor set in the middle. “Are you sure you’re supposed to have people back here..?”

“Actually-“

“It’s fine!” Jake cut Peter off and tossed his fidget cube at the younger boy, mouthing a threat as he snorted and turned away. “It probably won’t take long.”

“Well, thanks. I have a shit ton of projects that need to be handed in, and if I lose them all-“

“You’ll hang your laptop from the balcony?” Jake teased, his stomach flipping end over end when you laughed and crossed your arms over your chest.

“By the wires.” You leaned against the stack of boxes and crossed your ankles, standing in that position for a moment before you had uncrossed your arms and rested your heels against the edge of a package.

“It should be simple.” Jake had reached for a cord that was plugged into his monitor, then hit the other end into your laptop, the screen almost immediately coming to life.

As the screen had come alive, Jake had tilted his head when the image of you at a Halloween party had caught his attention.

You were in the centre of three others wearing a set of grey mouse ears, paired with a pale blue skirt, a brown waistcoat and a red overcoat. You looked cute, even more so with tiny whiskers painted on your face, and Jake was remiss and unable to hide the grin that cracked on his face.

“Dormouse.” You groaned almost embarrassingly. “It was last year at my old university. I’m a little…obsessed with Alice In Wonderland, and my friends and I decided to dress up as Alice In Wonderland characters.”

“Not Alice?” Jake cocked an eyebrow.

“Everyone goes for Alice.” You explained, drawing your attention from him to the picture on your laptop. “Dormouse is different. Don’t judge.”

“I’m not judging-“

“Jake dressed up as a Wookie one year for Halloween.” Jake had whipped his head around and glared heavily at Peter, his blue eyes narrowed, and his jaw clenched.

“Wookie. That’s Star Wars, right?” You looked between them all, though your eyes had flitted back to Jake when he turned to face you, his blush back on his cheeks.

“You watch Star Wars?” He was hopeful, eager even.

“I’ve seen them once or twice.” You shrugged. “Originals are better.”

“The sequels are trash.” Jake had turned back to your laptop, moving the mouse that was connected to his monitor as he started to work on the problem; the time between you four divided between Peter and Ned whispering among themselves and you playing on your phone.

“Done.” He spun in his chair and unhooked the cord, handing you the laptop back, your fingers momentarily brushing. “It was a glitch, I got it fixed, and it shouldn’t happen again.”

“Thank you!” You spoke with glee and relief, reaching for your bag at your feet to slip your laptop in. “How much do I owe you?”

“Owe me?” Jake lost concentration again, distracted by how pretty you looked in the dimmed light.

“Yeah, for fixing it. How much do I owe you?” You questioned, slipping your hand into your bag to pull out your wallet.

“Nothing.” He swallowed nervously. “It’s…on me. The first one anyway.”

“Well, no offence, but I hope I won’t be back.” You had shoved your wallet back in your bag and yanked the strap up your shoulder, the edge of the bag smacking against your hip.

“I’ll…walk you out….” Jake had stood abruptly, his shoe catching on the edge of his chair and had almost toppled into you.

“It’s just through the door, right?” You stepped away and adjusted the strap again. “Thanks for the help…Wookie.”

Jake remained stunned while he watched you leave, and only when the door had closed, and it was the three of them again, had he exhaled and let his shoulders drop.

“Shut up.” He snapped at the two before they said anything and fell back into his chair.

The rush had been over yet; there was a single row of tables that had been taken by a loud crowd of guys jeering each other on. You had been behind the counter, rolling your eyes at their gestures for the fifth time that hour, when their waitress approached with a dreamy look on her face.

“Meatheads.” You mumbled under your breath, watching the table of boys and their expansive order. “What’s their deal anyway?”

“Hockey players.” She had cocked a hip and tilted her head. “They’re a mix of new and old. The newest members of the team pay the bill for the older ones.”

“Right, as some kind of hazing ritual?” You studied the table and then turned away, finishing off a bill as one of your customers came to the front to pay.

“I wouldn’t mind being hazed by them.” The dreamy look on her face grew as she rested her elbow on the countertop then rested her chin in her hand. “They’re all so attractive. Ari’s the hottest thought.”

“Have a good day.” You smiled at your customer as he left a tip for you and turned around to go through the front doors, his eyes briefly cast on the group of rowdy boys. “Ari?”

“The captain.” She beamed when a few of the boys had turned to look at her, their playful smirks earning a soft flirty giggle. “He’s the real big one. He’s the captain of the team and an offensive player. He knows how to score.”

“Eww.” You scrunched your nose and turned away from the register.

You had grabbed two sets of menus for the few tables you had on the right side of the room and tucked them under your arm, stealing a glance at the table your coworker was still staring at.

As you walked away to the tables you had to serve, you greeted the first and second with the same smile and the same spiel about the specials and had given them both a few moments to decide what they wanted with the promise that you would be back with water and coffee.

As you had made your way back to the front counter, you watched your coworker heading to the back for a last-minute item and had thought nothing of her moving to the back.

You had grabbed a tray and set the glasses of water on the flat surface under coasters before you put the carafe down. With everything loaded, you had walked back toward your customers and doled out the water’s and coffee before you glanced over your shoulder and saw your coworker staring at the empty table with a dumbfounded look on her face.

“I’ll be back.” You smiled small and turned on your heel, stalking back toward the other side of the café, and joined her side as she held the bill in her hands.

“They stiffed the bill.” Her bottom lip quivered, and she looked your way with tears building in her eyes and her bottom lip quivering. “I’m going to be responsible for this.”

You gritted your teeth and stole the bill from her, shoving it in your pocket as you made the split decision to follow them. You hadn’t even made it to the door when she called your name, stopping you momentarily.

“Handle my tables. I’ll be back.” You ground your teeth together and shoved the door open, the metal frame slamming against the doorstop and blasting you with the ripping wind.

Still, you stepped outside and looked down the left and right sides of the street before you saw the last of them turning the corner. You had stepped outside and jogged to catch up with them, each step making you more irritated than the previous.

“Hey!” You raised your voice and yelled at the group of meatheads, a few of them stopping and turning towards. “Assholes!”

The sound of your voice being raised again was enough to make the rest of them stop. As their eyes came to settle upon you, you felt your heart hammer as you realized what you had done, yet it was too late to back down. With shaking hands, you stepped forward and scoured the crowd.

“Which one of you is Ari?” You questioned while shoving your hand in the pocket of your apron, your hand clenching the bill. “So you’re not just assholes, you’re also-“

“I’m Ari.” The one who had stepped up was, as your coworker stated, massive and a mountain of a man.

His broad width had undoubtedly been the kind of frame a hockey player would need, especially an offensive, and the way his flannel seemed to accentuate his frame was heart-stopping. His hair was longer than you expected, and it had brushed the back of his neck while appearing as if it would get in his eyes if it weren’t styled.

He was tall. He was massive.

He was also, like she stated, beautiful and rather attractive. However, your anger at them skipping the bill was tainting his image.

“You-!” You pointed your finger at him and dug the bill out of your pocket.

“You bring your goon squad into a place, take up an entire section, and then you decide to skip out on your bill. You get up and walk away-“ You heard the soft chuckles of the rest of the team behind him as if this was some amusing feat.

“The bill wasn’t paid?” he questioned and crossed his arms over his chest, raising an eyebrow.

“If it were paid, I wouldn’t be running after a bunch of arrogant stick monkeys, would I?” You snapped, drawing your attention from him to the team behind him, watching them stand together like a group of lemmings, one copying the other.

“You said you paid it.” Ari turned and focused his heady stare at a young guy, likely a freshman who had seemingly cowered beneath his gaze.

“I guess I forgot-“

“You forgot to pay a nearly $200 bill? Are you stupid?” You jeered and took another step forward, standing only a foot away from the ‘captain.’ “We are not going to be responsible for this. Pay for your goon squad, captain Ari.”

You shoved the bill into his chest and dropped your hands when he had slipped his on top of yours. You took a step back and then turned on your heel to stalk away from him, knowing that you couldn’t physically make him pay his bill, and realistically they probably wouldn’t be back to pay it. However, just the act of you going out there had made you feel somewhat accomplished.

“You survived.” Your coworker sounded surprised as you stepped through the door and finally behind the counter. “I’m surprised.”

“So am I.” You exhaled slowly and rested your back against the edge of the counter, your shoulders drooping as you relaxed. “I have never done anything like that before. I don’t even think-“

The bell above the door had rung, and both of you looked up as the broad shoulders of the guy you’d just yelled at filled out the frame. He had stepped through one door, then another, before he walked right to the register. You side-eyed the other waitress and stepped up to the machine, your gaze flicking from him to the bill in his hand.

“Sorry about that, sweetheart.” His voice was deep, deeper than you initially thought now that he was inside, and it was quiet. “The message didn’t get across. The-“

“Freshmen were supposed to pay. So I’ve heard.” You reached for the bill and took it from his hands before you used the edge of the counter to smooth it out.

“I figured as the goon squad’s captain,” he cracked a grin and leaned forward, the smile making the guy in front of you seem even prettier, “I should take responsibility.”

“For the first time in your life, no doubt.” You muttered and tallied the total, to which Ari had pulled a smooth card and inserted it into the chip reader.

“You’re funny, sweetheart.”

“I am not your sweetheart.” You snipped, crossing your arms over your chest as the payment went through, and the transaction ended with the receipt being printed. “You want a copy?”

“Could I get your number?”

“No.” you ripped the paper and slid it toward him. “You want this?”

“If I can’t have your number, can I have your name?” His smile was just as charming as the man himself, and yet when he asked for your name, all you could do was tap the name tag pinned to your shirt.

“Y/N,” his grin grew, “I like it. You sure I can’t have your number?”

“Have a good day.” You turned on your heel and swiped your abandoned tray from the counter, and tucked it under your arm. “And tell your goon squad not to skip on any more bills.”

#triplets!Ari Levinson x reader #triplets!Jake Jensen x reader #triplets!Steve Rogers x reader #skinny!Steve Rogers x reader #Steve rogers x reader #Ari Levinson x reader #Jake Jensen x reader #more hearts than mine #more hearts than mine masterlist #more hearts than mine part 1 #reposted series #series repost

[nana1000night]

Skinny Steve has the super soldier strength

I really love the idea that what if Skinny Stevie still in his skinny body. But he got the super soldier strength.

And what if he has a chubby girlfriend, when they started dating, She'd always worried about what if Steve couldn't bear her weight or the force of her accidentally bump him with her hips.

But after he got the serum, he could lift you up with just one hand. The first time he hugged you and pull you over the ground, you're so worried his back and waist would be crashed in two because of you.

“Now I can carry you when your feet hurt or just beimg lazy, doll.” He pecked your cheeks and whispered to your ears

“And we can try more getsures without needing worry if you are too heavy to me. Do you want to be cowgirl tonight, honey?”

He's so eager to show you how strong he became now, when you bare into your apartment, he shut the door and trapped you between his body and the door frame.

He kissed you messy and roughly, his right palm pressed against the door and shifted to cradled your face when he heard the slight crackling sounds.

His left hand roamed your body and light the fire between your legs. You whimpered and panted when his large hand kneading your breast, he palmed your left one and tested its weight before he bend down to kissed it and sucked your nipple through the fabric.

“Steve...” you panted his name, your hands grasp his soft golden locks and pulled him closer.

“I know, doll. I can't wait either.” He kissed you passionately when his hands undressind you.

Steve kneeled down on the floor and his hands trailer up and down on your thighs.

He lifted up your skirt and pushed them into your hands.

“Hold them for me please, doll.”

He gave your inner thighs some light pecks and nuzzle between your thighs.

He inhaled and growled.

“I miss you and this pussy, doll. The best one and the only one I want to wet my dick or buried in her forever. I miss your sweet taste too, honeybee. It's been a long time, now I want to harvest my honey.”

His slender fingers stroked the outline shape of your clit, he also leaned forward to shower it with kissed and praises.

“Oh, you're throbbing, hun. Do you miss me too? Don't worry, I am home now and I will take care of you, my sweet girl.”

His tongue swirled around the bud and sucked it like sucking a lollipop or some hard candy.

You parted your legs and bucked your hips, your hands covered your mouth to prevent your neighbours hearing your moans.

Steve took your right leg and out it over his shoulder, before he dived in his feast, he stared up at you.

“My goal in round one is make you forget your weight and let me carried you with my hands on your hips.”

You furrowed but the world was replaced by the moans, whimpers and pants when Steve shoved his fingers into your wet cunt and devoured it with his mouth.

Now, your hands didn't know where to place, you changed between Steve's hair and the door.

Your skirt and your pantie are on the floor with several pieces, and you don't even care because you could only focus on the man who is kneeling between your legs and feasting you.

The first orgasm was triggered when Steve suddenly cradled you in his arms, his hands suppored under your hip cheeks. Your legs locked behind his shoulders and you rolled your head back to the door and panting sensually.

“Um...um—um— S.Steve...I I'm—”

You couldn't finish your sentence, your walls spammed around his tongue and fingers, he groaned and curled his fingers to pressed your sponge spot while his thumb circled your clit.

“Let go for me, honey, let me drink all of them. I am starving!” His voice hoarse and opened his mouth again to hover over your pussy again.

This time, he sucked your bud HARD that you could see the stars twinkling in front of you and you lost your minds for a moment.

Steve put you down, your legs touched the ground wobbly, he wiped your juice from his face by the back of his hand and licked them all clean.

He stood up and tucked your hair behind of your ear before his fingers lifted up your chin and locked your eyes with his foam blue, blown of lust ones.

He gave you a satisfying smile and his other hand buckled your lower half body to grind against his crotch.

“The next goal, I would let you ride me, and I want to play with these beautiful tits. I miss them too, I want to warm them up all night with my mouth.”

NPT:🌼🌼🌼

@sapphire-rogers @royalwriteroftheuniverse @sparklybarbarianninja @steverogerssimpp @cevans-fics @cevansbrat0007 @jamneuromain @evanstache @emerald-evans @ronearoundreads

#skinny stevie #nana's babble #unholy thots #skinny steve x reader #pre serum steve x female chubby reader #pre serum steve x reader #steve rogers smut

[justalonelyslytherin]

Hello Ally! Happy Dragon Boat Festival!!

Congrats for 100 followers and open the celebration !!l I'm so proud of you 😌😌💖💖

My request is:

Skinny Steve and best friend!reader

the prompt：Person B isn't a very affectionate person, while Person A cherishes every moment they get with Person B. One day while Person A is cooking breakfast, Person B comes up and surprises Person A with a hug from behind. (Bonus + Person A buries their head into the back of Person A's shirt.)

you can decide the two roles for who is who, I don't mind and I'm so excited about your drabble or anything ！！

Love you💖💖

Thank you so much dear <3

I loved this request very much! Skinny!steve is an adorable bean and the prompt was *chefs kiss* When I read this I knew I had to make this into an 40s!au, it just fit so well.

I don't want to talk too much or spoil anything. So to find out who got which role you have to read ;) I hope you enjoy it. PS: This became wayyy longer than I had anticipated. I wanted to make short things for these requests, as a practice. Well, practice failed xD

Wordcount: 4.3k

Warnings: none

Divider by @firefly-graphics

What took so long? She had knocked, yet they took forever to respond. Looking around the narrow and dim hallway, she willed them to open the door again. It wasn’t that she felt uncomfortable standing here, but she knew their neighbors were always watching and listening and she didn’t like that one bit.

Finally, the door opened, to reveal the brown-haired young man of the duo she called her best friends.

“Why are you alone?” Was the first thing Bucky said and it made her roll her eyes. What class he had. Instead of answering Y/N pushed him to the side - which in reality Bucky stepped aside to let her in - to enter the apartment.

“That’s all you can say when you see your best friend? Not a ‘hello Y/N, how are you today? How was work?’ Or a ‘lovely do you look tonight, is that dress new?’”, she teased him. Bucky huffed at that and closed the door behind her. Instead of giving her a proper greeting, he came near her, feigning to tousle her hair or playfully rough her up some other way. It made both of them snicker.

“Hey punk, look who’s here!”, he then shouted further into the small apartment. It was more the size of a shoebox than anything. But it was their own, they liked to emphasize and at least they had a roof over their head.

Shuffling came from the only other door that led into the only other room besides this, which was everything from kitchen to living and dining room and entrance. Shortly after the shuffling Steve poked his head out of the doorframe. It made her smile.

“Hello Steve!” Leaving Bucky behind she walked over to the smaller blonde. Her smile - from being happy to see him - quickly melted into a frown as she noticed his clothes.

“Why do you look like that?” she asked him. He wasn’t wearing his going out clothes, which he should have considering they had agreed to go out dancing. All four of them. Bucky, Steve, her roommate, and Y/N. 

“Ouch Y/N/N. Don’t wound the poor man, he can’t do anything for being so ugly.” Scowling she turned back and hit Bucky in the chest. So hard that he ‘oofed’ and rubbed the spot on his chest afterward.

“That’s not what I meant!”, she bickered back at him before she turned to Steve again. “That’s not what I meant.” Her voice was much softer as she repeated her words, barely above a whisper.

“Why aren’t you ready?” she asked him and pointed at his outfit. He didn’t look anywhere near ready to go out. Bucky huffed behind her and she could almost feel the way he rolled his eyes at Steve.

“The punk doesn’t want to go.” 

“Why?” Y/N frowned. 

“I’m not in the mood,” Steve muttered and looked down at his feet. He did that whenever he didn’t want to talk about something. 

“You said you would go. You promised. Please,” she asked him, no begged. “Don’t leave me alone. Don’t let me go alone with Dot and Bucky, they’ll ditch me the second they get the chance to.”

“Wait, so Dot is coming?” Bucky chimed in again, his head appearing in the corner of her eye. Y/N rolled her eyes and shoved Bucky in the shoulder.

“Yes, she will meet us at the dance hall in a bit.”, she said. “But that’s not the point!” And with that, she shooed him away so she could solely focus on Steve and why he didn’t want to go. 

Now she asked him quieter and much more serious, “Is everything alright? Are you feeling off? Ill? Or is there something else going on?” 

He didn’t work with her, just looked at her blankly. Well, actually he mostly tried to avoid her gaze. Then he shrugged again, 

“I’m not feeling it tonight. Not in the mood to go dancing is all.” 

Not that he would ever tell her, ever admit, that he couldn’t stand to watch her dance with other men. That he hated to see her be taken from him, asked to dance with - something he couldn’t do with her as they could. He knew just one day - sooner than he would like or could bear - she would be stolen right under his nose by another man.

“C’mon, you can’t leave me alone with these two. Please,” she begged again, smiling at him in that way she knew he couldn’t say no to her. Today however he was a tough nut to crack, only scoffing at it and looking back at his feet. 

He was like that sometimes with her, but she never took it seriously, she could never be mad at him for it. Steve was a very closed-off and silent person. He didn’t trust easily and thus he didn’t open himself often. Bucky and she were pretty much the only people Steve felt comfortable enough to be his true self. But even with them, he had his exceptions.

“We don’t have to go long. Only a song or two.”

He still seemed hesitant, now looking back at her but without saying anything. She knew he was contemplating, thinking deeply. This could go either way, Steve was stubborn, and if he had made his mind up if he truly didn’t want to…

“Fine.”, she agreed with a heavy sigh and a nod. 

“Thank you!” Beaming she leaned in towards him and kissed his cheek. In her joy, she didn’t even notice how red he turned from it. But Bucky did and he wiggled his eyebrows teasingly at Steve over her shoulder.

The streets were busy with young people looking to enjoy their evening and workers from and to their way to work. Quiet was something that couldn’t be found in New York. You were never alone, there was always someone listening or seeing what you were doing. With so many people living in close quarters it couldn’t be quiet.

But it wasn't all the other people that were loud right now as the trio was on their way to the dance hall. It was Bucky and Y/N’s incessant bickering. They were best friends too, just like Steve was with them. It was all just friendly banter, constant, however.

“Do not make me homeless Barnes!” The woman in their middle complained to the tallest of the group. Bucky had a bright grin on his lips, his hands casually shoved into the pockets of his trousers. He was a handsome fella, a lady's man and he knew that. His careless behavior however agitated Y/N at that moment. It didn’t sit right with her that his latest conquest was no other than her roommate.

“I'm serious! If you break her heart - and you will at one point Bucky, I know you well enough - I’ll be in a real awkward position. I may even need to look for another home then.” It was true. Her roommate had the apartment rented originally and Y/N had found it by luck just when she had been looking for a roommate. If Bucky screwed up she feared her roommate would kick her to the curb.

“You can always crash at our place until you find something or just come stay with us, doll. Am I right Steve?” 

“What would your mother say? She would get a heart attack!”, she argued and shook her head.

“Screw that, what would my mother say? I’m a respectable young woman with a good reputation to uphold. I can’t live together with two young men when neither is my husband.” She sounded like her mother reciting it. It was her words after all. Now Y/N herself didn’t see it that strictly, but the beliefs her mother had drilled into her still found some space. She didn’t want to have their neighbors talk. Hell, these people probably already talked enough about the three of them and how inappropriate it was for her to visit them alone and so often too.

Before their banter could continue they were almost at the dance hall already and in front of it stood Y/N’s roommate, waving and calling for them.

Going to the dance hall went like it always did. They would enter as one big group and scope out a table for them where they could sit and drink and rest in between dancing. 

Said table would be Steve’s spot for the entire evening. He never really wavered from them, even if both Bucky and Y/N tried to every time.

Bucky had long given up trying to get Steve paired up with a girl to dance, Steve had stopped trying after the first or second time. They never wanted to dance with him. 

Bucky was the one that was gone the quickest. He always found a girl in no time. Now with Y/N’s roommate, they were gone even faster. Almost immediately after they had found a table at the corner Bucky had been dragged towards the dancefloor.

Y/N was the switch. She alternated between spending time with Steve sitting at the table and indulging the dancefloor herself. That was if someone asked her to dance. Some days there would be a huge flock of young men asking her, they would almost form a line, on other days it was just one or two, and sometimes there were none. 

She didn’t like the huge attention and normally only danced to one or two songs. She wasn’t here for the dancing part. Steve never believed her if she told him that, always insisting to take her chance and dance with another guy. Why couldn’t he see she just wanted to spend time with *him.*

She did like to dance and for the most part, the young men asking her were nice. Only one or two had tried to cop a feel but Bucky had come to her rescue then. But what she wanted more than to dance with some random guy, was to dance with Steve. She had tried to talk him into it but he never agreed. So the next best thing for her was to sit with him at the table they chose and listen to the music and chat.

Tonight was one of those nights where they were just doing this. The conversation however was tedious and felt forced. Steve answered shortly, most of his answers were clipped and one word only. He seemed too deep in thought. 

With time she got fed up and bored. They were now mostly sitting in silence. That’s when she saw her roommate across the room, waving her over. Confused, she looked around, but it had to be her she meant.

“I’ll be back in a moment,” she told Steve and got up. Almost there the other girl pulled her to herself almost making her stumble.

“I need a favor. A big one.” Her tone was giddy yet somehow apologetic. It gave Y/N a bad feeling. She had an idea what this could be about. “I need the apartment for me tonight.” Oh no.

“Don’t do this to me, Dot,” Y/N whined.

“Please!” Dot whined back, doing her best rendition of her sad face to persuade. “Bucky said you could stay over at their place tonight.”

“Dot!”, she protested. 

“Please, please, please. I owe you if you do that. Can you?”

How could she say no? If she did, Dot would never forgive her and she didn’t want them to go bother Steve and kick him out. So she agreed, albeit reluctantly and rather bummed out.

Where was she supposed to go now? Where was she supposed to sleep? 

Back at the table, she slumped down in her seat beside Steve. He immediately noticed something was wrong. So she told him, whining about the precarious situation.

“Stay the night,” he blurted out, startling her. Surprised she looked at him, her mouth slightly opened.

“I mean-” he went on to correct himself, clearing his throat, “Buck was right. You can stay at our place for the night. I’ll take the couch and you sleep in our bed.”

“No, Steve. I can’t do that.” She shook her head.

“But you can.” He was serious. His expression alone showed that.

“I insist, doll.”

His usage of a nickname made her swallow. Butterflies blossomed in the pit of her stomach. How could she keep disagreeing with him if he insisted and called her that?

“I’m not going to take no for an answer, Sweetheart.” There. He was doing it again! “You said so yourself earlier. You are a young, respectable woman. I can’t let you be homeless for the night. It’s not safe.”

“Alright,” she agreed, still reluctant. “But only under the condition that we share the bed. I don’t want you to sleep on the couch, it’s so uncomfortable and bad for your back.”

Now it was Steve’s turn to try to resist and argue with her. He was already opening his mouth to protest when she cut him off.

“It’s not like we haven’t fallen asleep on a bed together.” In truth, most of these incidents had happened before they hit puberty. But it had happened once or twice as teenagers and young adults too.

The apartment building was somewhat quiet when they entered. Quieter than in the day but again, it was never truly quiet. They could hear the clanks of bottles and pans as some people cooked, several dogs barking outside, and the occasional crying baby.

The hallways were dark, you had to look closely to not trip over empty milk bottles left on doorsteps and old newspapers and the other odd stuff people set in the hallways.

It felt like they were doing something naughty, something forbidden and in a strange way, this feeling made Y/N giddy. Steve shushed her giggling as he led her through the hallway. They were sneaking their way up to his apartment through the staircase and halls, carefully to avoid being seen by any nosy, prejudiced, and gossipy neighbors.

Only once inside the flat, they both broke out in snickers and giggles, the humor and absurdity of their doing catching up to them. Like two naughty Teenagers.

Steve placed his keys onto the small table they had before he removed his coat and looked back at her. She knew the apartment almost as well as she knew her own. It still felt too early to go to bed. She still had too much energy.

“Let’s dance,” she blurted out, surprising both of them. It had been a spur-of-the-moment idea but after she thought about it again she added softer, “Dance with me.”

It was a silly request. He didn’t dance. She knew that. Even if they were in the dance hall, he didn’t. But there was a small hope he would say yes. Because it was her that had asked. Steve wasn’t a very affectionate person. He rarely truly smiled, most of the time it was a small, barely-there thing or it was sarcastic. That he had much of. He was a walking sass machine, yet the words and actions from deep in his heart were seldomly seen.

Feeling stupid for asking, really she knew better than to ask him, she wanted to take it back. That’s when Steve beat her to words, surprising her entirely.

“I think there is a record,” he mumbled and started to look around for the small collection of discs they had. The record player was second-hand. Bucky’s parents had gifted it to them together with the records when they moved in. 

It surprised Y/N. So he wanted to dance? The scratching of the needle sounded before the first tones of the record started playing. By the time the first song was already well into playing Steve turned around, nervously drying his clammy hands on his pants. 

He looked around the room and shoved the table to the side before he turned back to her. Now he stood in the middle of the room, holding his hand out to her. Y/N could only look at him dumbly, the surprise still written across her face. Was she dreaming right now?

“C’mon.” Steve looked unsure of himself but still held his hand out to her. This snapped her out of it. Putting her purse on the ground and shrugging her thin coat off, she hurried over to him.

Her breath caught in her throat as their hands connected. His hand was much bigger than hers and somewhat more callused but still very soft. There were the small ridges from his constant use of pencils and paintbrushes, yet his grip was delicate.

Both of them slowly shuffled into a dancing position. At first, they had some trouble adjusting and trying out some of the proper poses but it felt too stiff. It was only when the first tones of the next song, a very soft and slow melody, started to play that they looked at each other and threw everything overboard.

Still, somewhat hesitant Y/N took a step closer to him, the fingers of their connected hands weaving between each other and their free hands finding rest on the opposite body. Entangled in an intimate embrace both of them started to sway to the soft music slowly.

“Thank you,” she whispered at some point. She could feel Steve tensing up slightly.

“What for?” he asked her.

“For dancing with me. I know I always say I don’t like to dance that much but once in a while it is nice.”

Steve was silent at her words, it almost felt as if she had said something wrong. 

“Surely you have had better dance partners,” he muttered eventually. 

“No,” Softly she hummed and shook her head at the words.

The simple word made him pull back just so much that he could look at her with one raised eyebrow. 

“I like it. I’d even say you are the best dance partner I’ve danced with.” 

Now that made Steve scoff. She was almost sure he would stop the dancing now, pull away and pout at her. But he didn’t, she however could feel his fingers tightening their grip at her waist, flexing.

“Do you want to know why?”, she now asked him and he shrugged his shoulders, wanting to but at the same time not.

“Because it is you,” she told him. “The other men I have danced with objectively may have been better dancers but they weren’t you.” 

She bit her lip, her heart hammering against her chest as she awaited a response. Anything really. Instead of saying something, Steve pulled her a little closer, essentially bringing her to place her chin on his shoulder as they continued to sway to the soft music.

While their dancing was peaceful, her mind wasn’t. The moment continued to play in her mind, making her question his reaction and her words. They continued their silent dancing to a couple more songs. So long until the record ran out and the monotonous scraping of the needle returned. Steve cleared his throat and let his hands slowly sink to his sides. Instantly Y/N missed his touch.

“We should probably go to bed.”

She didn’t want to, but her lips were locked. Instead, she nodded faintly, turning around to grab her purse and her coat while Steve turned the record player off.

When Steve woke up the next morning he was alone. The bed beside him was empty. Wiping the rest of sleep from his eyes, the gaunt man slowly sat up. The thin blanket that they had used to keep them warm in the night slipped down his body and pooled in his lap. Through the flimsy windows, the sound of the streets and the traffic filtered into the room, together with the early light of the day. 

An unpleasant and heavy feeling had sunk down in his stomach as Steve had thought Y/N might have gone already.  Only when he glimpsed her shoes at the of the bed, right beside his own, he had felt relief. The thought of her just going, without saying goodbye; sneaking away like a lover for only one night, as someone unimportant had upset him. He knew he wasn’t the best at showing his feelings, but she surely had to know how much she meant to him.

Contemplating he kept watching the two pairs of shoes, almost the same size. His were old and barely holding together, the newspaper he had shoved into them to make them fit better was peeking out from the top. He had put them neatly beside each other, the shoes aligned with the frame of the bed, the same way he neatly stored his drawing materials. Hers looked much better, not like they would fall apart any moment. They weren’t as neatly placed as his, Steve noticed. Y/N had a little way of chaos, she liked to do things out of order and with a twist. He found it endearing and cute.

He liked the look of their shoes beside each other. As if hers belonged right here, as if it were their place, putting them there each night and taking them again every new morning. He could get used to it.

Clattering coming from the other room made him alert and curious. Pushing back the blanket he left the bed to go investigate.

The smell of fresh breakfast and the sizzling of the pan spread through the living area as Y/N stood in the small kitchen. She had woken up some time ago. Steve had still slept deeply and soundly, yet she hadn’t found back to it. After a while, she had even gotten fed up with lying there and holding still. So, quietly and carefully she had climbed out of the bed without disturbing her best friend and tiptoed out of the room.

Indulging in some people watching through the window that faced the main street had occupied here only so long. The idea to make breakfast came to her when her stomach faintly rumbled. 

Now she stood in front of the stove, whipping up some breakfast for the two of them with the little groceries the boys had in their place. Y/N hadn’t noticed the time tick by or Steve’s awakening in the other room, she had been too occupied with the food. And soft humming the melody of the song they had danced to the previous evening.

The memory made her stomach and heart flutter. Being close to Steve had never bothered her, but it also never had caused such a reaction in her. She enjoyed being in close proximity with him because it made her feel safe and welcome. He accepted her chaotic and clumsy self when others looked down on her for it, just as she didn’t care about his frail body and many health problems. 

She cherished every small moment they had together, every time he let her get close. It was rare for him to get touchy or particularly affectionate, so when it happened it was something special for her. Maybe also because these moments made her heart flutter and butterflies hatch in her stomach.

“Oh!” A surprised gasp left her mouth as two arms suddenly snaked around her middle. Their grip was soft as fingers grasped the fabric of her dress in the front. Her heart pounded in her chest, both from the surprise and the sudden closeness. Putting away the wooden spoon she was holding, she placed her hands on the countertop. The coolness under her palms helped her center herself again. She had to close her eyes for a moment.

“Steve?”, she asks softly, almost questioningly.

The man behind her didn’t say anything, yet she could feel his grip on her dress tighten briefly before his fingers smoothed the fabric at her stomach again. A slow hum left his lips. She could feel him closely behind her. 

“What are you doing?”, she attempted again, this time with a question. She could hear him sigh.

“Just holding you, doll,” he muttered. Her mind was spinning. This was so unlike him, so different from what was the norm. Had he gotten sick? Was he feverish? Delirious? She remembered him acting differently yesterday evening too. First his reluctance to not go out, then to dance with her. Had he maybe been sick and hid it from them?

“Steve, are you feeling alright?” She wanted to reach out behind her and feel his temperature but the slightest movement of her body made him tense and press himself against her back. Her breath hitched in her throat.

She could feel him clearly on her back, chest pressed against her back, hips touching her behind. Then she felt his nose gracing the middle of her back, in between her shoulder blades before it was replaced with his forehead. His breath was warm against her back.

“I’m alright,” he answered her. He sounded content, pleased almost as if there was no care in the world at this moment. “Entirely alright.”

He didn’t feel feverish, she figured. Surely she would have felt it through the thin sheet of dress on her back if he was burning up. Deciding to stop questioning this, she tried to indulge at the moment, take it in completely before it ended. She closed her eyes again, relaxing and leaning back the slightest bit to feel him even closer to her.

Her hands that had previously been placed on the countertops lifted and she gave them new places to rest. Softly she laid her hands on top of his arms, her fingers tracing his small circles into the fabric of his shirt and the small bits of skin that were uncovered. With one hand she even let her fingers wander and reach under the sleeve, her fingers brushing over the inside of his wrist where she could feel his pulse.

They left out a relaxed sigh at the same time. A smile tugged at her lips. She could feel him smile too, as he had started to nose against her shoulder. Even without saying it, they knew. Knew about each other's feelings for the other even without the need for a confession.

#sly's 100 #steve rogers x reader #skinny!steve #steve rogers #40s au #skinny!steve rogers x reader #sly's writing #steve rogers x you #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers imagine

[dungeonpuppykai]

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

#petition for steve rogers to destroy me in any size #brain rot uwu #school night always makes me act stupid #kai rambles #steve rogers imagine #dark steve rogers #steve rogers smut #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x oc #steve rogers x plus size reader #steve rogers #skinny steve rogers #pre serum steve #steve rodgers x reader

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Paper Doll 2

Warnings: this fic includes dark content including noncon, violence, stalking, and other potential triggering elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: A patron at your family’s bar becomes an overly devoted regular.

Characters: Steve Rogers (in this fic, Steve did not get the serum but still served in the war), short! Plus size reader.

Note: sorry this took so long.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. Thanks to everyone who reads this one and thank you for all your energy.<3

Love you all like Fairy Godmother loves Bonnie Tyler. Take care. 💖

The Friday crowd buzzes around the slanted round tables, packing the stools along the bar, and hollering bets across the felt. You make your rounds of the place, filling pints to the brim alongside your brother as he comments on the business. You don't mention that it's payday at the newspaper mill or that it's the end of the week. Lionel just wants to pat himself on the back for something beyond his grasp.

These days don't come often enough to hire a second barmaid and the old cook, Norm, is no help as he puts up greasy fish and chips in the window. He's a remnant of your father's ownership, carried over with the deed.

The rush lasts until after midnight, whittling away as the customers begin to sway and slur, some sent off before they end up snoring on their face. You wipe up tables and gather empty glass. Lionel hollers at a regular at the bar in jest, leaving much of his work undone. As you clink down a tray of spent pints, he doesn't even acknowledge you.

"Li," you say under your breath as he pushes down buttons on the till, "that's the last of our glasses." 

"Well, clean some," he grumbles as he pins a paid tab to the spike sticking up beside the register.

"I can't do it all myself," you mutter.

"I'm working too, sis," he raps on your arm with his knuckles and spins away, dumping some pennies in front of Gerald.

You sigh. You'll have to clean as the need rises, you simply don't have the time. The bell above the door chimes as if to toll, more customers.

You slide your tray out from under the glasses and dry it quickly, shoving the cloth in your apron pocket as you round the bar. A man with dark hair and a pinned sleeve sits at the table near the door, square chin down as if to hide. He pushes back his thick hair, keeping his face in the shadows.

You don't notice him right away but you recognise the man with him. The same on who'd been there earlier that week. His knuckles still showed some faded bruises but his nose was back to its usual size.

You take a breath and swallow a yawn. You cross to them with a smile, "hello, how are you tonight? Can I get you a pint?"

"Hey," the slender blonde looks up at you as he removes his hat, his friend not even flinching at your approach, "you remember me?"

"Uh, yeah, Steve," you assure him, "I remember."

"What did you do this time, punk?" The other man gristles as he scratches the overgrown beard along his chin.

Steve laughs, "nothing you wouldn't do."

You smile patiently, gripping the edge of the tray. The dark-haired man is large, with broad shoulders, though the left ends abruptly above his folded sleeve. Another casualty. 

"We'll take lager, " Steve says brightly, "please, and say, you don't happen to have fish and chips? My friend needs something to eat."

"Lager comin' right up, but kitchen closes at midnight," you glance between them, the bigger man slouched grimly with his only elbow on the table, "I could make you a corned beef sandwich, though."

"Hmmm, no it's–" Steve's friend begins.

"That'd be great," the blond interjects, "can't be drinking on an empty stomach."

"And you?" You prompt.

"I already ate, thank you kindly."

You give a nod and leave them. Behind the bar, Lionel snarls at the dirtied glasses, "i told you to clean these–"

"I gotta serve, Li, and I'm working on it," you crank on the faucet and grab two glasses.

You elbow him out of the way and carry on. Drying the glasses before going to the tap to fill them. Lionel returns to his careless conversation with the drunkards.

You return to the table by the door and plunk down the pints. "There you are, it'll be a moment for the sandwich.'

"Thanks," Steve says as he offers a bill to pay, "how's your week, doll? Anymore trouble?"

"No, I think you scared them off," you kid, "I'll go make that sandwich, alright?"

"Sure," he leans back, sitting sideways in the chair as he grabs his glass, "Buck," he glances over at his friend as he stares at the foamy lager, "you alright?"

You cross the bar again and swing through the kitchen door. Norm is drinking whiskey straight from the bottle as he bites a cigar and wipes down the counter.

"We got beef left?" You ask as you go to the old icebox, the motor ticking loudly.

"Should do," he grumbles around the stinky cigar.

You search around and take out the paper packet of pink corned beef. You take it to the counter and cut off two slices of bread from the loaf. Norm takes another swig as you spread mustard on the rye.

"Hungry?"

"For a customer," you explain.

"Ah, whiskey?" He offers his bottle.

"You know I'm not one for drinking."

"Aye, a barmaid who don't drink. Fate is funny, init?"

"Suppose," you shrug as you put the top piece of bread on, "see ya round."

"You too, kid."

You push through the door with your hip and grab a dish of nuts from the bartop as you pass. You head over to the two men and set down the food. Steve thanks you again, as the other man echoes him in a mutter.

"This is my friend, Bucky," Steve declares, "he was in Europe too."

"Oh, wow."

"Rogers," the other man, Bucky warns.

"Ah, he's quiet, took me forever to get him out here."

"She don't care," Bucky takes half the sandwich and looks it over.

"Ha, sorry," Steve rubs his neck, "well, I guess you got other stuff to do. I'll leave ya to it and try to get this dummy to do more than growl."

"I'll be around if you need anything else," you clasp your hands together.

You move to the next table clear up the pint and the peanut shells. You continue around the empty seats, the horde thinning out as the clock ticks. You glance up at the arms in their perpetual orbit and sigh, just another hour.

🍺

"I hate to chase you out," you approach the men at the table, the last left in the pub, "but we are closing up for the night."

"Ah, course," Steve stands, "you need help tidyin' this place up?"

"Um, no," you almost laugh, "not exactly something we expect of our patrons."

"Be a little less obvious, Rogers," Bucky stands and stretches his neck, "let's get out of her hair. She don't need you tryna show off."

"It's appreciated," you chime.

"Sure," Bucky scoffs and grabs his friend's skinny arm, "let's go. I played along, I'm tired."

He drags the smaller man towards the door, "gee, Buck, you’re gonna tear my arm off."

"Good, then we'll match," Bucky retorts as he nears the door, "have a good night, miss. I'll do my best to keep this punk out out of your way."

You grin at the remark tossed over his shoulder as Steve looks back at you, soles scuffing as he puts up a poor resistance, "night, miss."

You watch after them as they pass through the door and follow to turn to the deadbolt. Coins jingle as Lionel counts out the night's drawer behind the bar. You don't say a word as you start to lift the chairs onto the tables, eager to get through sweeping and be home.

🍺

You stand in the bookshop browsing the shelves of rigid spines. You roll the bill in your hands, the discovery of the forgotten tip and your brother's early mood inspiring you to peruse the wares. A pang of guilt strikes you. You just don't feel right spending the money, it doesn't feel earned. If anything, you owed Steve.

You shove it back in your coin purse and continue hesitantly down the narrow aisle. You usually save your tips for the monthly fee to keep your apartment above the pub and trips to the grocer. There isn't much left over for much else, even books.

You get to the end of the row and turn, stopping short at the figure browsing the back wall. He holds a book and flips through the diagrams of stems and stamens. A very interesting review of botany. More notable, is the familiar profile, sharp cheekbones and a birdishly large nose.

"Steve," you greet in surprise before you can collide with him.

He looks over, not quite startled by your appearance.

"Oh, hi, fancy meeting you here," he shuts the book and replaces it on the shelf.

"Uh, yeah, it's not too far from home."

"No, it's not," he agrees.

"You live around here?" You wonder aloud before you can stop yourself. 

"Not too far… I was wondering, did you end up buying yourself a pretty new ribbon?"

"Oh, er, not exactly," you glance around, "I was actually hoping to find a copy of Dumas here."

"Books? Books are fun but not so pretty," he faces you, his hand on the shelf, "maybe a scarf? Or a brooch? You'd look good in pearls."

"Ah, well, that's not… practical," you fold your hands together, "maybe it's best I save the money… or I could thank you."

"Thank me?" He tilts his head coyly.

"There's a bakery down the road–"

"Cora's. I know the one," his cheeks bloom a shade of rose, "you keep that money, doll, I'll treat you to a scone."

"No, really–"

"The only treat I need is you," he blushes deeper, "I don't often get to walk around with a gorgeous girl like you."

"Steve, please," you trill.

"I mean it," he grins, "I'm really not in much shape to be fightin' for just anyone, you know?"

You suck in your lip and clasp and unclasp your coin purse nervously, "alright, I like scones."

#steve rogers #dark steve rogers #dark!steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #skinny!steve rogers #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #series #paper doll #mcu #marvel #avengers #captain america #au