Marvel One Shots

I Owe Him A Lot (Steve & Male Reader)

This is requested by @justmewoo and I had sooo much fun writing this! Hope you enjoy!

"Be careful, (Y/N)! Steven is much smaller than you."

"Oh, Ma." You whine, tossing your head back. "We were only wrestling. I'm not even going hard on him."

"Yeah. I promise, he wasn't hurting me." Steve says, poking his little head out from under your arm. "(Y/N) is trying to toughen me up."

"You were laying on the couch knocking on death's door only two days ago." She scolds him, crossing her arms across her chest. "You need to take it easy before you get yourself hurt, Steven."

He groans, crawling out from under you. "Yes, ma'am."

She nods her head and exits the room, going back to making supper. Steve sighs, running his hand through his blond hair.

"Don't worry, Steve. We'll wrestle tomorrow while Ma's at the hospital." You say, hoping to cheer him up. Ever since the tiny baby was placed into your arms when you were only 6 years old, you swore to protect your baby brother no matter what. You were always going to be there for him through thick and thin.

"I just wish I could be more like you." He mumbles, his blue eyes locked on the ground. "You're never sick and Ma doesn't care if you leave the apartment."

"Oh, come on." You say, bumping his shoulder. "I get sick, too. She just doesn't care about me as much as her baby boy."

"You've never been sick, (Y/N)." Steve says, glaring at you. "I've never had to take care of you while you were dying in bed."

You shrug, unsure what to say. It's true. Steve seems to always catch terrible colds that make him confined to the bedroom. The last one gave everyone a shock. They almost called the priest to give him a blessing, but like always, Steve perked right back up and was as good as new.

"Should we go see if James is home? I'm sure he'd like to see you spunky again." You say, standing up.

"It's Bucky. And he hates the name James." Steve smiles, taking your hand and letting you lead him to the front door.

xxx

"Jeepers, kid. You either got to get better at ducking or stay out of alleys." You say, entering the apartment. Steve is sitting at the table, sporting a new black eye.

"It wasn't in an alley this time. Just outside the diner." He replies, giving you a soft smile. "How was the factory?" He asks.

You shrug your shoulder, filling a cup up with water from the sink. "Work is work. And in times like these, I can't really complain." You say before taking a drink.

Steve nods his head, then looks back down at the table. You pause, seeing his hands. Usually, they're covered in ink from his endless days of drawing. Instead, they're completely clean.

Almost too clean.

"How's she doing?" You ask.

Steve shakes his head. "The doctors don't think she'll shake it." He quietly answers, his eyes still downcast.

You walk over, grabbing his shoulder. He looks up, his tear-filled eyes making your stomach drop. "Those doctors don't know what they're talking about. They told us countless times that we were going to lose you and you're still kicking. Don't listen to them." You say, determination in your voice.

"But this time it's different!" Steve shouts, rising from his seat. "She isn't herself anymore. She talks to me like it's the last time she'll see me. Even she doesn't think she'll make it!"