Chapter Text
You dish out orders to customers, most of them trying to hit on you. It's been a busy day and the line of pending customers has not decreased in length. Yet. Patiently, you work through the line, occasionally sassing your way through cheesy pick-up lines and exaggerated innuendos. It's finally 9:30 p.m. and the decrease of customers is very noticeable.
“Hey, (Y/N)!”
You turn around, expecting to see someone else but instead, you see your manager. “Would you mind locking up when you're finished?”
Being a simple employee, you flash her your best smile and assure her that you don't mind.
“Cool. See you tomorrow!”
“Yeah,” you sigh, blowing a strand of hair away from your face. “See you.”
There are only 2 customers left but you're not one for chasing customers out of the pie shop.
You start cleaning up, whistling gently to yourself, when the faint sound of the doorbell tinkles through the air and distracts you from your menial chores.
Well, what do you know? It's Steve Rogers.
Also known as Captain America, of course.
His every step oozed out a quiet sort of confidence, his golden hair shimmering under the soft lights of the cafe. He's wearing a fitting grey shirt, which makes his baby blue eyes stand out even more. And he's walking towards you. You quickly fix my hair and hope that he won't notice how terrible you look.
“Evening, ma'am.” He smiles sweetly and nods at you.
“Hi,” you say, out of breath. “Um, hi. I mean, what can I do you for today? Wait...I meant to say 'what can I do for you today'. I'm sorry!” You blab on.
Steve watches you with amusement plastered across his face. “That's alright. I'll have a black coffee and an apple pie, please.”
You just want to hop across the counter and kiss him, but you somehow compose yourself enough to nod, smile, and get on with making his coffee. He rubs his neck awkwardly and stares at the ground.
Look at him, you think, he's like a human golden retriever. Gosh, he's adorable.
“Had a good day?” you enquire casually, turning to face him as you make his coffee.
“Well, as good as it gets when you're an Avenger, I guess.” The American icon sighs and runs his hand through his hair, making you bite your bottom lip.
“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”
He looks up, witnessing you biting your bottom lip subtly, and swallows. “A bit of both. What about you?”
You shrug, setting his mug down on the counter. “It was pretty good. By pretty good, I mean I'm making enough money to get by.”
Steve laughs. “That's swell. Glad you had a good day.”
After a bit of silence, you freeze. “Wait, are you going to stay here or take this to go?”
“I was going to stay.”
You grab a slice of apple pie and you place it on a plate on top of the tray along with his coffee. “Where will you be sitting?”
He looks at you as if you just offered to suck his dick or something. Not that you would've minded. Steve looks so surprised; you have to stifle the urge to giggle. “Miss, you don't have to bring it for me. I can manage.”
You make a face at him. “Nonsense. I'm the one who works here and it's not every day Captain America stops by my workplace. It’s the least I could do for my favourite Avenger.”
Steve has an adorable little half-smile plastered on his face. “Thanks. Well, I'll be sitting by the window.”
He follows you to the table and you can feel him gazing at your body. And your ass. Definitely your ass. You weren't even wearing your best jeans, but he still stared at your ass. Turning around, you can see him blushing, thinking that you caught him staring.
You set the tray down on the table carefully. “Here you go.”
“You're a doll, Miss.” He then freezes as he realises that he just called you 'doll'. “Sorry, I...uh,” he swallows nervously. “It just rolled off my tongue.”
You accidentally let out a giggle, leaving him amused. “That's fine. That's perfectly fine. No one's ever called me 'doll' before.”
“Well, if you meet my friend Bucky, he'll change that.”
The two of you exchange a few moments of silence. “I'll leave you to it then, Cap. Or Steve? Mr. Rogers?”
“Steve, please. And you are...?”
“(Y/N).”
“That's grand. I can't keep calling you 'Miss' all the time,” he chuckles.
“Oh, I wouldn't mind,” you murmur under your breath. “Enjoy your coffee! And pie.”
“Wait, Miss? I mean, (Y/N)?” He grabs a hold of your arm gently as you start to head back to the counter. “Would you mind sitting with me? You seem like a great gal and I'd like to...um, get to know you better. You know, if you're not busy.”
Your eyes widen. Steve Rogers just asked you to have coffee with him. Holy cows. “Yeah...yeah! Sure! Um, I'll get some coffee. For me, I mean. Be right back.” You quickly turn on your heel and RUN to the coffee machine. The last few customers are heading out and are waving you goodbye and leaving tips for you on the table. You return their smiles and farewells, but all you're thinking of is Steve. You make yourself coffee, casually looking at Steve every now and then.
Well, at least you hope you're looking casual.
Once you finish, you awkwardly stumble to Steve and pull up the seat across from him.
“Let me re-introduce myself,” you say, extending a hand. “I'm (Y/N).” His hand grips yours, and you're surprised at its softness. A shy smile slowly develops on his face. What a cute dork, you say to yourself. Gosh, what you’d give to run your hands through his hair and touch his abs...
“Steve Rogers. You already knew that, though,” he wrinkles his nose. “Have you been working here long?”
“I've been here for a year,” you admit, tucking your (h/l), messy (h/c) hair behind my ear. “I just moved from England.”
“London?”
“Yeah.”
“I spent some time in London after...you know,” his eyes move downwards, now studying his coffee intently. “After I was defrosted.”
“Must've been hard, huh? And with Bucky Barnes turning out to be the Winter Soldier...” You trail off, sensing Steve's discomfort. “Sorry, I'm-gosh, I'm so insensitive.”
“That's fine,” the mild-mannered super soldier replies with a small, melancholic smile. “I find it better to talk about Bucky rather than avoid the subject. Besides,” he glances at Stark Tower, which is a block away, “he's getting better day by day.”
“What's he like?”
“He's...fine. He relapses sometimes, but it's a rare occurrence now.” Steve flashes a sad smile at you. “You know, sometimes I wish that he just died. I wish he didn't have to go through all the...stuff that HYDRA did to him.”
You touch his arm gently and he freezes. Yikes. You forgot that he wasn't comfortable with intimate touches from strangers. “I'm really sorry, Steve. I wouldn't even be able to imagine what you've been through.” You pull away, not wanting to push his boundaries.
Silence falls on the two of you. “Hey,” he says softly. “Don't be so sad. It's my life, not yours.” He touches your hand and quickly pulls away. “I like your pie by the way.”
You grin at him. Captain America likes your pie! “Thanks.”
Steve watches you, his warm blue eyes surveying your face with a hint of a smile on his soft-looking lips. You're thinking of grabbing him by his shirt and pulling him up against you so you could kiss him hard...and that's when his lips move.
“What?” you ask, snapping out of your daze. He asked you something important didn't he? His face is expectant, waiting for your reply. “Sorry, I was kinda in a...trance.”
He smiles, amused. “That's fine. I was just wondering if you, um, wanted to go to dinner with me sometime? I'm sorry of I'm being too forward, I just…” he trails off, running a hand through his hair, “I like you.”
“Steve, trust me, you're not forward at all. You should've heard some of the guys earlier! They wanted me to sit on their faces.”
His eyes widen and his cheeks turn rosy. “Sit...on their face?”
“Don't ask.”
“I don't think I want to.” He gulps nervously.
You chuckle at his expression. His nose is scrunched up and his mouth is pressed into a thin line.
“You're cute when you laugh,” he murmurs as he recovers from the shock of face-sitting.
Your face reddens considerably when he finished his sentence. “Um, thanks.”
You sit there in comfortable silence with him staring at you as you look down at your coffee mug. His gaze is intense, but not uncomfortable. Ugh, he is so cute, your emotions are running wild.
“So, um, dinner,” he starts. “Where would you like to go?”
You smile, looking up at him. “I think you know this city better than I do, Steve. You can choose.”
“Well, there's this great restaurant in Brooklyn - I think it's Italian - and I can definitely recommend going there because I've been eating there since 1929. I'm kinda old, I know,” Steve laughs, a real genuine one that melts your heart every time you hear it.
“Nah, you're okay, Rogers.”
He awkwardly touches your hand but he doesn't pull away immediately, he actually lingers. His hand is soft yet calloused in some places. You feel a blush creeping onto your cheeks as you keep your gaze on his hand. Looking up, you see that he's blushing as well.
What a cutie.
You just want to squish his face.
“Are you okay?”
You shake yourself out of your trance. "What?"
“Your cheeks are red,” Steve points out.
“So are yours,” you retort, eliciting a laugh from him. He checks his watch and his eyes widen.
“It's already 11? Gosh, I should be on my way back. I had a swell time talking to you, M- (Y/N), and I'll be off now.” He removes his hand from yours and grabs his jacket. You stand up and he stops halfway through the process of putting on his jacket. “I'm sorry, I forgot to ask you if you needed a ride home!” He half smacks himself in his face and groans. “Way to go, Steve.”
“Actually,” you start, “I'd like that. I mean, I'm not particularly fond of walking home alone at near-midnight.” Does this mean you'll be riding on CAPTAIN AMERICA'S motorcycle with your arms around CAPTAIN AMERICA'S torso?
Will I get to touch his abs? you wonder. You're getting flustered again. “Let me close up and then we can go.”
Steve shoots another sweet smile at you and insists on helping me close up the pie shop/cafe. You barely did anything, he did it all for you. You wonder what he'd be like as a boyfriend...the sex would be amazing, no doubt about that. Does he like cuddling? Because you'd cuddle the heck out of him after he fucks you senseless.
Stop it, you say to yourself. For good measure, you slap your face mentally to remind yourself that he's an Avenger and no Avenger would ever go out with you.
Then why did he ask you out to dinner? A curious voice in your head whispers as you step out into the chilly night.
You lock up and Steve hops on his bike. “Hop on,” he says with a smile, offering his hand to you. You take it gratefully and sit behind him.
“Y'know,” you start, “I've never ridden a motorcycle before. Aren't you supposed to have a helmet on?”
“Well, I only have one and I figured that you should take it.” He hands you the shiny, black helmet. “I'm a super-soldier, miss." Steve says with a bright beam plastered on his face. "I can handle this.”