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i-marvell · 3 years

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Casual Conversations

Word Count: 1k

Warning/s: MINORS DNI, NSFW! bucky eating your WAP while conversing about what to have for dinner lmfao that’s all you need to know

A/N: there’s a bit of a banter in here bc normal seggs usually have those (as i was told)

“I’m hungry,” you whine, settling on the unmade bed with your legs and feet down on the plush carpeting that Bucky insisted to get.

He laughs, sitting down beside you and squeezing your knee, “then get up and let’s go out.”

The sun was about to set, the bustle of the 5th street coming to life as commuters and pedestrians mill about their life. City lights peeking through the buildings in the distance, contrasting the soft glow of the sky.

You let out an overdramatic groan, putting a pillow that smells like Bucky onto your face instead, “no... Too lazy.” Your speech was muffled by feathers and plush.

Adoration and a hint of mischief floods Bucky’s veins, “well, I for one can go for a snack right now.” Just as soon as those words leave his lips, you feel his metal hand against your inner thighs.

The vibranium and gold complementing your soft flesh as he digs his fingers gently, teasingly. Inching closer to the hem of your shorts.

You swipe away his hands, balancing the pillow on your face. “What kind of snack?”

“Something sweet.” Bucky continues, now sitting on the floor and facing you. Your legs are on the either side of his torso. He rests his chin on your knee then, his stubble tickling your skin just right—sending sparkles and shivers up your limbs.

A delightful hum slips past you, propping yourself up by your elbows and squinting at your boyfriend, “what are you doing?”

“About to eat a snack.”

“Ew.”

Bucky scrunches his face and bites your thigh, earring a regal yelp from you. “Hey!” Despite yourself, you put your thighs just so on his broad shoulders—a tinge of arousal coiling on the pit of your stomach.

“I’m hungry but,” you run your fingers through his hair, tugging gently, “please continue.”

Bucky’s baby blues are now tainted in lust; half-lidded and in love. So fucking in love.

He helps you out of those restrictions—“interesting underwear choice, my darling.”

You prop yourself up again, looking at him, your brow arched in a semi-incredulous position, “I like floral prints.” You defend yourself and your panties. How dare he make a comment when not even a month ago he bought you an “All You Can Eat” booty shorts.

The 21st century and Bucky Barnes.

“You’re so fucking wet already,” He muses between your thighs, his hands pawing your thighs. The cocky asshole blows a breathe on your slit, smirking when he feels goosebumps rising from your skin.

“Um, yes, that’s what usually happens when I’m horny.”

Bucky nips your skin again, you and your smart-ass mouth.

And then finally, he dives in—well, not quite. His tongue snaking into the crease of your thighs, his lips touching everything and everywhere but your clit. Your back arches as you feel his cold fingers caressing your lips, prying them open. Bucky groans at the scene unfolding before his eyes: pink, swollen, and dripping wet.

“Fuck me, baby, this is beautiful.”

The tip of his nose nudges your clit as his tongue laps at the wetness pooling by your hole, gonna fuck that pussy later. He notes mentally, refocusing on his mission of making you come undone with his mouth.

Slow stripes sent you keening towards his mouth, both your hands finding themselves on Bucky’s mane, “motherfuck—“ it dies on your lips as he closes his mouth around your clit and sucked.

Your hips unabashedly undulating as Bucky’s tongue swipes against your cunt, moving his head side to side, making the most obscene sound as he eats you out.

You wonder where he got that from.

He moans—oh, he moans like he’s the one enjoying himself. “Not to sound like Steve but I can do this all day.” Bucky mutters under his breath and against your heat. The timbre and low vibrations of his voice sending you into another spiral of pleasure.

Your mouth splits into a silent scream as Bucky pushes a finger into your pussy—fluttering around his thick digit. “Ow, fuck.”

He stops much to your dismay: overprotectiveness on display. “You okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine—my lips are chapped though.” You observe, bringing up a finger to your lips and picking the skin. “Remind me to get lip balm next time.”

Placing a soft kiss on your thigh, he smiles sweetly, “yes, ma’am.” Continuing on his slow strokes, curling his finger just right into the spot that makes your toes curl.

Bucky feels your walls clench and flutter around his finger, and he adds another one for good measure. His tongue circling your clit lazily.

“Hey, we should go get—god, fuck—pasta later.”

So you’re still hungry, “maybe some—right there!—ice cream too?”

If he, doing his best work, can’t even pry you out of cravings, then maybe nothing will. Except for when you get what you wanted to eat in the first place.

“Can you let me finish and then we can get whatever the hell you want.” He smirks against your mound, placing a kiss.

“Sounds good—fuck, so good.”

Bucky picks up his pace; he’s a man on a mission. His metal fingers pumping in and out your cunt as his mouth once again closing around your bud—a move that makes you come every single time.

“I’m gonna come!” You call out, your eyes are screwed shut and your thighs are closing around his head. Bucky doesn’t mind that that balls of your feet are digging into his back.

He pulls out and grabs your hips, lifting you up closer to him. Bucky takes advantage of his strength and grinds your pussy on his mouth, drinking up every bit of your essence.

Your body is on fire—your leg muscles are quivering from the orgasm that Bucky just gave you. On both of your foreheads, there sits a sheen of sweat, glistening under the glow of string lights.

“Are you still hungry?” Bucky asks, passing you an opened packet of wet wipes.

You nod, pulling up your underwear, “actually, yeah. That made me more hungry.” Huffing as you get up from the bed and tossing the trash into a bin.

As if to prove a point, your stomach growled and you point at it, “see? Hungry!”

Bucky, zero; food, one.

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i-marvell · 3 years

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SAM WILSON APPRECIATION WEEK ↳ Day 2: Favorite outfits

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i-marvell · 3 years

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i-marvell · 3 years

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#let these two narrate the MCU saga

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i-marvell · 3 years

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Made in the AM

Steve Rogers x Reader

Summary: In which Steve loves spending his mornings with you when he has you all to himself (aka, we’re together but nobody knows about us).

Word Count: 3.8k

Warnings: nsfw (18+), smut, fluff too <3 some swearing, oral sex (female receiving), steve’s ever-lasting praise kink and oh, steve’s a cheeky lil’ shit and we love him :)

Author’s Note: y’all are getting a 2014 flashback with all these steve fics asdfghjkl i can’t stop writing tho so i guess we’re making this a series??? nobody asked for this but yet here i am, indulging myself lol

happy reading & please don’t forget to write me some feedback!

Part 1 (this can be read as a standalone fic, too)

Masterlist Here

(gif is not mine)

One night at the safe house, you and Steve could not have been stopped from being with each other.

Every little moment you could have to yourselves, you were together. Which was mostly late at nights. When everyone was asleep, that’s when the activity of sneaking in and out of the other’s room went on. Most of the time, he was in your room.

Steve said he’s saving you the trouble being a gentleman and take the fall for himself if he was caught taking a walk of shame – half-naked with his clothes bundled up in his arms – back to his room in the wee hours of the night.

Your initial thought about keeping it all hush-hush was still strong. You haven’t had the time to define what it is because you’ve been so wrapped up in each other, that neither of you thought of what to call it – whatever that has been going on between the two of you.

All you know is that you’re in too deep and moving way too fast, that is, if the pace even concerns either of you (you don’t know if it does, you didn’t stop to think about that either).

As for the team? You talked about it, about your little secret. For others, you’re still teammates. You still sit apart from each other during briefings or if the team is having lunch together. You still keep your flirty banter going strong, you still make eyes at each other. Still have those stolen glances when there’s something only you two understand. Only this time around, it has an underlying cause to it. It means something more than just casual talk between two people.

These little moments that you find within yourselves, are just for you and Steve to cherish. Sam and Bucky don’t need to know why Steve has that secret smile on his face, during their morning jogs. Vision doesn’t have any business asking you why you keep humming songs to yourself while you’re in the kitchen, waiting for your coffee to brew.

And the team definitely doesn’t suspect a thing when Steve enters the briefing room five minutes late to his meeting, with his hair a little messed up and cheeks tinted pink. And if they do, they don’t say anything.

It’s only been a few weeks. But every time you’re in a room together, and Steve’s eyes land on you, he has this different kind of glimmer in those ocean blues – that is before he realises he’s been staring for too long. He has to remind himself not to sit too close to you, or touch you in front of anyone in a way that didn’t seem appropriate. Or accidentally call you anything other than Agent, or your digits or by your name. He almost called you ‘babe’ during a meeting, and failed horribly to cover it up with a fit cough.

“Yes, excellent observation, ba – uh, 15.”

How you wanted to laugh out loud. It was hard to remain stoic and unsuspecting.

Moments outside your bedroom are just as special as they are when you’re inside. But God, Steve wouldn’t want it any other way. He loves the fact that he has you all to himself. Kiss you as much as he pleases, hold you as long as he can. Touch you anywhere and everywhere possible.

Steve loves the mornings hours the most. When you’re completely blissed out and at peace, eyes resting, with his human-furnace of a body to keep you warm at all times. There’s not a sign of worry lining his expressions, he’s at peace too.

It’s a new feeling and it often leaves him worried. He doesn’t want to let his mind go there but sometimes it just falls at the end of that dark well, from which he cannot come out of, even if he tried. But your presence doesn’t let him stay there longer. He doesn’t mention it to you. He could never bring himself up to. You’re both so happy and it is going well. Bringing up fears that are there just to taunt him would ruin everything. He just has to come to terms with the fact that he can be happy without being worried.

Steve finds himself awake at four in the morning. You’re sleeping next to him, facing the nightstand when you moved in your sleep sometime earlier. He wants to snuggle closer to you. But in these few weeks that Steve has gotten to know you (more than just an agent and a spy), he’s known the ins and outs of your body, what makes you smile, things that please you, what ticks you. And especially your sleeping pattern, he came to know how much of a light sleeper you are. One tick of a clock hand and you’re disturbed. That’s probably an exaggeration but he’s glad that he doesn’t snore, or else he’ll have to bid goodbye to the prospect of sleeping next to you every night. Hey, that’s all he looks forward to when he has to reluctantly leave your bedroom in the morning every day in order to not get caught.

But right now, he just wants to see that gorgeous face of yours. He turns on his side, and brings a hand to brush against your hair, but stops in the middle and places his hand on the pillow instead. The bedsheets rustle underneath his body. A sigh leaving his lips involuntarily.

C'mon, baby just wake up on your own. Don’t make me do this.

Ten minutes of insistently staring at your back, observing the slow rise and fall of your shoulder as you breathe peacefully, and his eyes are droopy with sleep. Until he hears a shuffle. He’s awake again and you roll over and into his arms. Still asleep. Still serenely breathing. He takes a chance, brushes a lock of your hair away from your face, unable to stop himself because –

You’re just so beautiful.

He’s knees deep in feels and he cannot stop his heart from sinking in further. Doesn’t want to.

A small frown appears between your eyebrows and a soft but sharp intake of breath is all it takes. Your eyes slowly open, meeting with Steve’s chest. Lazily, you put your arm around his waist, shuffling closer to close what space remains between the two of you.

“Mornin’, beautiful,” Steve whispers, a smile on his lips with a hint of that sultry Brooklyn drawl to his morning voice.

“How long have you been awake for?” A sleep-laiden voice asks another, waiting for an answer.

“Not long, just fifteen minutes. I gotta go soon though.” Steve says, groggily. You hum in disagreement, moving even closer, cuddling him harder.

“Don’t leave,” you mumble into his chest. He chuckles, palm rubbing soothingly up your back. His warmth transferring onto your bare skin, under the thin blanket over both of you.

Steve’s a bit surprised at your… clinginess. He doesn’t want to call you clingy because it’s quite the opposite when it comes to that. Normally, he’s whining about not wanting to leave. Too many mornings in a row you’ve threatened to kick him out the door when he pouted too hard and refused to go before sunrise.

And now, you are asking him to stay. Well, you said not to leave. But it’s the same for him and his heart grows the size of a damn basketball in his chest.

“Wait a minute. Are you asking me to stay, babe?”

“Only because you’re too warm to let go. And you smell good too.”

“It’s your body wash. Smell yourself.”

Your nose wrinkles at that and you let out a little snort. God, you’re so adorable, he could kiss you. And he does, no one��s stopping him. Nose brushing against yours softly before he closes the gap between your lips. You ease into it pretty quickly, humming lowly as his mouth works with yours.

“Is this what you’ve been awake for? A kiss?” You mumble, thumb holding his chin, grazing against that plump bottom lip.

“Well, I was hoping for more than a kiss.” Lips brush down your jaw, neck, leaving a hot trail. Hotter considering it’s so early in the morning and you’re still settling down from the night before. The sun’s not even out and yet, here he is being insatiable and downright horny.

“We had sex not even seven hours ago, Steve.” You sigh, but don’t stop him, instead, you only tip your head back to give him more room. A sweet kiss that turned into a hot, wet mess so soon, it had your head spinning.

“What does that have anything to do with wanting to have sex with you again, seven hours later?” He teases, while swiftly rolling both of you over. He’s on top now, lips as filthy as they are, turning up in a cheeky grin. “Besides, you asked me to stay. I’m staying, honey.”

You can’t argue with that but smile and let him kiss you all he wants. His hands push the sheets off your body, letting the grey material fall haphazardly on the floor. Then he kisses you some more, peppering them all over your face. It has you giggling and curling up in yourself. Holding his face away from yours is the only way to make him stop.

“What’s gotten into you, lover boy?” You ask, a blinding smile on your face. “Why so giddy at –” you glance at the digital clock on your side of the nightstand, your eyes widen, “– four-twenty in the morning?”

"I just want to spend every last minute I have with you. Who knows when I’ll get the chance next?” He rolls his eyes as a matter of fact.

“You mean when you’re back here by night?” You lightly hit his chest, “You’re talking as if it’s the end of the world.”

“Honey, that is always a probability with us.”

“Oh, my god. Steve Rogers, stating facts after facts at the crack ass of dawn. When will you stop being so dramatic?” You punctuate your question with a boop on his nose.

“Never,” he brings the same hand up to his mouth, placing a feather-light kiss on your fingertips before giving them a little nip. You squeal and pull your hand back at the suddenness, the sound of your giggles blooming something warm in his chest.

“That’s my second favourite sound in the whole world,” Steve says, lifts himself on both his arms as he looks down at you. Eyes so soft and easy on you, you can’t help but feel a bit overwhelmed, only in the best possible way, though. God, will you ever get used to the way he looks at you?

He runs a hand down your side, squeezes your thigh, skin smooth and so ridiculously soft.

“Yeah? What kinda sound holds the first place?” You ask with a bite of your lip, eyes flicker between his ocean ones.

“The sounds you make when I touch you here,” You don’t realise when, but his fingers trail between your thighs, and you feel hot all over. A soft gasp parts your lips, chest rising in anticipation when he finally runs his fingers between your folds, damp with arousal you didn’t know had gathered.

“Steve –” A breath of his name and he repeats his actions, nudging the bundle of nerves this time.

“Oh baby, I’ve heard you do better. Make some of that sweet noise of me, yeah?”

“Then you gotta do better, too, sweetheart.” You huff out a laugh, hips rocking up to meet the slow movements of his fingers.

“With pleasure,” he plants a kiss on your lips, tongue rubbing against your lower lip before pushing past your mouth. It’s heated and makes your toes curl. Your fingers threading through the hair at the back of his head as you hold him in place and kiss him deeper. You widen your thighs to give him more room and he properly kneels between them. Thick thighs, bare against your own. Skin on skin, warm and hard and soft and smooth, all at once.

Steve feels your hand sliding down his back, toying with the waistband of his boxers. Hinting him to take it off but he seems to have different plans. He takes your hand and presses his

– either way, he’s moments away from hearing his favourite sound in the world.

“We’ll get there,” he says this time. Lips red and swollen and so addictive as he grins cheekily at you. It’s a testament to what you had said during your first time together. And the actions that followed after – you’re very well aware of that.

It’s been two weeks since that night and Steve hasn’t gone down on you, yet. He wanted to, god he wanted to – so bad and definitely didn’t want to wait for so long. But here’s the thing, he hasn’t done this in a long time. He’s afraid he’s lost his touch, that he’ll do something wrong or make you feel uncomfortable.

But as much as he has doubts about his ability to eat pussy, he refuses to be a pussy about it.

A kiss placed on your sternum, a palm squeezing your breast. His hot mouth does wonders on your body as he all but makes your body move like a wave lapping at the shore. Pulling all sorts of noises, when his teeth nip at your nipple before he soothes the sting away with his tongue.

“Baby, I’m gonna be completely honest with ya, I’m a little rusty.” He chuckles, his gorgeous face almost settled between your legs, kisses placed on both sides of your thighs. You don’t want to confuse his honesty with nervousness, but it seems to be fused. But you like that he communicates with you. Makes whatever’s going on between you two seem so much deeper than it is.

“I’m gonna need you to tell me how it feels, every step of the way, yeah? Can you do that for me?” You don’t know what you should do with yourself and with him. Your heat, already bare and soaking wet, is right in front of his face. And Steve Rogers has the audacity to sound insecure. You’re in a much more vulnerable position here.

God, you hate him. You hate him and his stupid face.

“You’re unbelievable, you know that?” You breathe out, head falling on the pillow. Unable to keep looking at him when he’s staring up at you from there.

“Baby, do I need to repeat myself?” The command in his voice awakes something in you, turns you on beyond belief.

“No,” You shake your head and try to close your legs. But he stops you, pushes them back down as much as your body can let you stretch.

God, he hasn’t done anything, stop being so sensitive! You berate yourself.

“Good,” And with that, he throws a leg over his shoulder and he licks a straight, hot line between your wetness up to your clit. The first contact is enough to leave you breathless, your back curves away from the bed, fingers immediately curling through his hair.

“Oh, my god, Steve –” Another gasp from you, and he probes his tongue, trying to seek out more of your taste as a flood of arousal costs his tongue once again.

For someone who’s a little rusty, Steve sure does know what he’s doing. And god, he’s doing it so well. He’s going at it like a man starved, he might even agree that he is. Your taste blooms on his tongue and sets his entire body on fire. Makes his dick harder in the confines of his boxers. Eyes locked on your face he maps out your expressions. And it’s debauched and flushed, mouth parted as silent moans fall in short breaths. Hips slowly bucking against his face, working in sweet synchronicity with his mouth on you but also pushing away when the pleasure becomes too intense. Too shocking when his tongue rolls over your clit.

“Baby –” you gasp, foot digging into his shoulder blade, fingers gripping the pillow next to your head.

“Does that feel good?” He asks, not because he wants reassurance. But because he knows. The bastard.

“Yes, yes. Please… Oh, don’t stop –” The knot twists further in your belly, a stunted gasp makes all the breath rush out of your lungs. His mouth working symphonies on your pussy. And boy, when he adds two fingers in the mix, pushing them knuckles deep inside your tight, wet heat – you’re a goner.

That pulls that sound he’s come to love so much.

He rubs at your sweet spot, insistently, repeatedly, and your thighs clench around his head, eyes roll back into your head, right at the brink of collapsing.

You moan loudly, “There, right there.”

“Keep talkin’, sweetheart,” he whispers, one of his arms curling around your shoulder, thumb relentlessly rubbing your clit. You look down between your legs, a mess of dirt blond hair, sticking out in all sorts of directions.

Mouth and fingers busy on your heat, coaxing your sweetness like he’s trying to coax the last bit of honey at the end of the pot. It’s so fucking filthy, the sight in front of you. And once you notice the movements of his hips, grinding his dick against the bed where he lays down, you absolutely lose your fucking mind. You’re definitely going to pass out whether you come or not. You can’t take this anymore, your throat feels dry and all the air seems to have left your lungs.

“Oh, you’re doing so good, Stevie. Please, I just wanna come.”

He moans, lips tight around your pussy, the sensations sending a sparkle up your spine. Your entire body jolts up when you snap, a helpless plea escaping you as he cleans every last drop. Mouthing at your heat until you come down from your high.

Steve’s hold on your eases, he’s looking up at you now, licking those glossy lips. He has that shit-eating grin while you lay there unable to regain your mind. You gently kick his shoulder and he laughs, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand before showering kisses up your body.

Your thumb traces around his chin, pulling at his bottom lip as you shake your head with a lazy smile on your kiss-bitten lips.

“You are such a liar.”

“No, I just work with a lot of confidence.”

“You are going to be the death of me, Steven Grant.”

“Oh, baby, wouldn’t that be such a tragedy?” It’s a question that doesn’t need an answer. Steve slants his mouth over yours, gliding his lips in that slow lazy manner that has you keening for him once again. Your legs go around his waist, bringing him down to meet your hips. The only problem is, he’s still wearing his goddamn boxers.

He’s painfully hard, grinds harshly against your core. The material of his boxers nudging your clit in the process, and you let out a broken moan. Still sensitive but you welcome it anyway.

Your palm travels down the smooth muscles of his back as they ripple with every dry thrust of his hips. Fingers pushing at the waistband of his boxers, you groan in frustration when they only make it halfway down his ass. Steve chuckles, moving away for a second that takes him to remove the last piece of cloth before he’s back on top of you.

“Would you look at that?” you smirk, eyes glancing between your bodies. “What are we gonna do about this?”

Eager as ever, you touch him, soft and patient because he’s so sensitive. Thumb swiping over the tip so smoothly – he shudders. Knuckles turning white as he grips the pillow next to you tightly. And Steve thinks, if anyone could ever make him cream his pants without so much as doing anything, it would be you.

But he probably won’t mind that.

“Well, we gotta do something –” He quips back, licking his lips, eyes closed in bliss, focusing on the warmth of your touch, so tender and light. Almost as if you’re teasing him. Then you guide him between your folds, breath trembling when he nudges your clit. “Please, don’t tease me, baby. We’re running low on time as is.”

Bringing him down for a kiss, you put him out of his misery and guide him in. Slow and measured, he sinks into you until he can’t anymore. Until that space between your hips doesn’t exist. Hot lips mould into yours, as he begins to thrust. Slow and languid, each time your hips meet, you’re moaning into his mouth. Begging him to fuck you faster, fuck you harder. Fingers travelling down to grab a hold of his ass – oh that fucking ass – pushing him, keeping him there when he rubs your sweet spot.

“Baby, I’m gonna need you to come one more time for me – oh fuck,” He whispers, forehead flush against yours. It’s only a matter of time that you clamp around him, his hips still and the strangling moan he lets out should have probably embarrassed him if he wasn’t so lost in the heat of the moment. He’s speaking out a broken warning before he can’t stop it anymore. Hot and full, that’s how you feel when he comes inside you, cock pulsing and body trembling.

And well you’re no different.

“Oh god, yes!” You moan, all needy; a whimpering mess under him when the coil in your belly snaps for a second time this morning.

A few spare moments of silence. You thread your fingers through his hair, lovingly massaging there. The weight of his body going limp on top of yours is welcomed. It’s crushing of course, but you love the security it provides.

It’s not even five am and Steve’s worn out. He feels like a dead weight on top of you.

“Now what?” he mumbles, face buried into your chest, mouth capturing your nipple teasingly. He eyes you from his position, and the twinkle in them tells you he’s up to no good – once again. With your palm to his forehead, fingers knitting through his messy hair, you push him away lightly.

“Now you get outta here before Bucky comes knocking on your door. Morning jog, remember?” It only makes him groan.

The large floor to ceiling windows changes the tint on them automatically just in time as the sun peeks out from the horizon, bathing both of you in its soft golden streaks. Steve kisses you once again in the first light of the morning, sweet and soft, but just as hot that definitely keeps you wanting more.

“You’re insatiable, you know that?”

“When it comes to you…” He mumbles against your kiss-bitten lips.

Steve kisses you one last time before he absolutely has to leave and then wait an entire day to have you back in his arms.

a/n: i guess if i’m making this two a thing, then i’ll need some headcanons, so if you guys have anything in mind hit me up! i would love to write more!

ALSO: tags are open, ask via inbox and not replies (pls be 18+, that’s a no brainer)

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i-marvell · 3 years

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A Soldier and A Spy

Steve Rogers x Reader

Summary: In which, it’s a mission gone wrong and a confrontation that brings both of you closer.

Word Count: 3.8k

Warnings: smut (18+), some swearing, light chocking, stevie has a lil’ praise kink, oral sex (male receiving), cock warming

Author’s Note: we were horny in the beginning, then we were emo at the end (we means me and my multiple personalities lol)

happy reading and feedback is always appreciated!

Masterlist Here

(this suit is the reason i wake up every morning tbh)

Steve Rogers is a brilliant man.

He’s known for things that may define being brilliant. Leading his team in battle. Being strategic and knowing and considering every little detail of a mission. Casualties, what could go wrong, what would make the bad guys crack, how can they solve a crisis when the team doesn’t have a lot of time in hand. He’ll execute all these problems with such brilliance, that you’re sometimes left impressed.

One could get used to it. But you haven’t, not yet.

Not when time and again, you’ve shown your interest in him. You knew he was observant but what you didn’t know is how blindingly and maddeningly oblivious he could be.

Often when the team would be together, no matter the situation, you would find yourself enamoured by him. God, he could be doing nothing and you’d find yourself staring at him.

Just to name a few instances? Oh, boy, that could take some time.

When the team was hanging outside the compound during a barbecue Sunday: you, casually sipping on your Long Island Iced Tea, talking to Natasha – heavily invested in her story about her latest mission in Seoul until Steve Rogers walked out. Dressed in a tight white t-shirt and jeans that hugged his thighs way too tight. The beard he was sporting and the slightly longer hair than usual didn’t help your cause of not openly ogling him.

It’s safe to say you needed a new straw because lost in all the filthy thoughts about what all he could to you – what all you wanted to do to him – you’d chewed the fuck out of the little plastic tube. Why hasn’t anyone upgraded these straws to the new metal ones? Save the marine life and all that?

Exibit B: when Steve Rogers walked into the briefing room, his righteousness all wrapped up in that stealth suit – eyes dark and serious, just as that mission was. The details were being rambled on by Natasha, going over your head. Steve stood by her side, his stance screaming authority. But all you could think in that moment was all the ways you could jump his bones.

Kiss that tense frown on his lips, his strong jaw. Feel that pulse underneath the smooth skin of his neck when you lick there. Somehow, clean-shaven Rogers is just as hot and sexy as the bearded one. You cannot complain because you like it either way.

That mission? You were paired up together, taking out bad guys while being hot and bothered and downright horny is not a piece of cake – especially when that piece of cake is kicking ass in front of you, left and right.

You’ve known him long enough to let the professionalism fly out the window. You flirt with him – openly, shamelessly, right in front of the team sometimes. Earning a surprised look from Bucky when you toss in an innuendo. Or a disgusted grunt from Nat because, “God, get a room already!”

And Steve – blondie actually indulges you. It’s like he loves to play with fire. Willing to burn your rather blazing hot body when he flirts right back and kicks the sexual tension in the room just up a notch.

It’s been going on so long, this game of cat and mouse that you’re tired. You’re tired of him not taking a hint. Or maybe he does take a hint or is just too afraid to do anything. You never really confronted him.

God, you act all smart and mighty when it comes to flirty banter, but the minute things start getting real? He finds an excuse to fuck right off and away from you. The number of times you’ve been left high and dry. The sheer frustration you’ve felt during those nights when you tried to relieve yourself but couldn't. If only he knew. Or if only you knew what’s holding him back.

To get into Steve Rogers’ mind, well, you actually have to be Steve Rogers. Science has reached new and epic highs since he came out of the ice. But it hasn’t been able to help humans read each other’s minds.

Steve often doesn’t allow himself moments of reprieve when it comes to his personal life. He doesn’t even think he has one. Sometimes he thinks all he’s capable of doing is take or give orders, take down the bad guys and save the world. Doesn’t dare to look past those goals. Even Nat’s insistence and nagging haven’t gotten him to actually ask a girl out on a date.

It’s been years, oh god. The whole idea of dating or having someone for a night scares him. And as if that’s not enough, you had to keep testing his patience with the relentless pursuit of flirting with him. Driving him nuts every time he so much as even looks at you.

When it comes to you, Steve throws all caution out the damn window. His walls crumble, a little, just a little. He responds to your banter with the same enthusiasm. It turns him on undeniably when you take charge – whether you’re on a mission or not.

He remembers this one time. You both were on a covert mission in the deep forest of Thailand. Inside a poorly constructed hut with some guy you had kidnapped to extract intel.

You were interrogating, while he just kept an eye from a distance. It was hot, no really, like a hundred degrees, hot-as-balls hot. He remembers the tactical suit you wore, how it stuck to your body like a second skin. How at the beginning of the interrogation, you’d just slightly let the zipper in the front down to let your skin breathe. The little beads of sweat came together to roll down your temple, collecting more as it rolled down your neck and disappeared underneath your suit.

Steve felt that twitch in his pants at the thought of tasting your skin on his tongue. Taking you right there because –

God, you looked hot.

Doing missions alone with you was a task harder than any other job he had to do. But just because you step on his every nerve (without so much as doing anything), he can’t be unprofessional and refuse to work with you, right? That’s immature and you’re smart enough to notice it.

Right now, you’re both stationed in a safe house. As a result of a mission gone wrong. The jet was in stealth mode, not even Tony knew where you are right now. He said he shouldn’t, safety measures and whatnot. Just two avengers, one a soldier and the other a spy. Exhausted and frustrated beyond belief.

That was a dangerous combination.

Steve drops a duffle bag containing extra clothes and some food. There’s a kitchen, a small living room and down at the end of the hallway there’s a bedroom and a bathroom.

Once you’re both settled in, Steve secures the house with a code. It has the same tech that makes those helicarriers disappear. So you’re completely off the radar right now.

After showering and changing into something more comfortable, you can agree that it feels a whole lot better than it did when you arrived. You’re in the kitchen, scanning the fridge and grab a bottle of water to drink.

“I can’t believe how I let this mission spiral down to hell.” Steve sighs, a little annoyed.

“Steve, these things happen. It’s not your fault –”

“I’m not blaming myself. Hadn’t you been reckless –”

A shocked gasp, “Reckless? Me?”

“You fucking stabbed that guy!”

“Oh, as if you haven’t seen me do worse, Captain.” You scoff at him, still trying to wrap your head around this silly argument. “And need I remind you, we were ambushed later.”

You’re right, he knows it. He leans back on the couch, breathing loudly before he hauls his ass to where you are in the kitchen.

“God, I’m sorry I was lashing out at you. I know it’s just a mission.” Steve says, standing close to you, shoulder leaning on the wall. “We’ll get them next time.”

You nod at him, capping off the bottle in your hand, smirking behind it as you drink so that he can’t see your expressions. You know he needs the assurance more than you do. Missions, if not often, fail. It’s no big deal.

“I know.” You hand him a different bottle of water. He smiles in thanks and is about to move away when you stop him with a gentle hand on his shoulder. Bare and warm under your fingertips. He’s skipped the shirt, opting for a white tank top. “Steve, I know you like to do things a certain way. But you don’t always have to be so hard on yourself.”

You don’t know how it happens, but your hand is cupping his face, thumb caressing the sharp angle of his cheekbone. There’s a bruise blooming there, pink splotches on his handsome face. You’re standing way too close to him, the proximity makes him fumble over his words.

“I don’t – I should go, I’ll take the couch. You can use the bed –”

He takes a step aside, you do the same and block his way. A teasing smirk on your lips, eyes twinkling as he all but huffs in annoyance.

“Steve, don’t do that. Don’t shut me down.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You know, this back and forth between us?” You said in a low voice as if the walls of this safe house were listening in on your conversation. “It’s bound to end someday.”

Steve thinks for a beat, then decides to humour you.

Caution? There’s the window.

“Really? It’d be a shame. I really like our little talks. Helps with keeping me on the edge.”

“Really?” You counter-question him, crossing your arms against your chest. “Wouldn’t it help to take the edge off, instead? You know, you can have your way with me? We’re alone, what’s stopping you?”

Yes, it’s a little bold, you had to gather a lot of nerves to say that. But you really are tired of this game. It’s getting pretty old.

“What will it take to break you, Steve Rogers?”

When he doesn’t move or say anything, you take a step closer, eyes roaming over his features. Trying to read him. A twitch of lips, a faltering breath.

Anything, really. Just give me something, baby.

And then, you don’t get enough time to comprehend who leans in first. The next thing you know you’re both grabbing at each other. His arms around your back, yours cupping his cheeks as your lips meet in a sudden, all-consuming, breathless kiss. It’s urgent, the primal need set deep in your bones that is finally let out of its confines.

Soft hands, holding you tightly as if you might just disappear. Softer lips, kissing roughly, sucking the air out of your lungs. He bites your lip, making you gasp. Aiding him in slipping his tongue into your mouth, licking against your own. He moans, too.

You’re being backed up, back meeting a little too harshly against the refrigerator door. He mumbles an apology but you wave it off, you’ve handled much worse than a little shove. You guide his face back to yours. You never want to stop kissing him, now that you got a taste. Fuck, you might just be addicted.

His hands find themselves sliding down to your thighs to pick you up, finally resting on your ass. Steve breaks the kiss, and you inhale a lungful of breath. The tip of his nose, nudging your chin up to plant kisses down your jaw, wet and sloppy, inhaling the way you smell like the soap you used earlier. It’s definitely not like you, but these circumstances are different.

You were very clear of your intentions when you said he could have his way with you. And if it doesn’t end up with both of you naked on the small, rickety bed of his safe house, then you do not want it.

He seems to understand, “You want this?” Voice thick with lust.

“I could not have been more clear, Rogers.”

He chuckles at your response, stealing a kiss before walking down the hall to the bedroom. After stripping each other down to the last clothing item, you shove him down. Some two hundred and fifty pounds of pure, bulky muscles landing on the poor mattress. The bed rattles with a loud creak.

You laugh at that, and Steve’s heart does a little somersault. He sits back, palms holding the weight of his body behind him. Crawling over him, your knees on either side of his waist, your hands trail up the large expanse of his chest, warm fingertips, blazing up his torso, teasingly brush against his nipples until your delicate arms finally rest on his shoulders.

“You are a dream, you know that, Steve?” You said, voice not above a whisper.

“I could say the same about you, honey.” Eyes flicker up to meet each other.

And there’s something deep, set in those cool, composed set of blues. His finger loops around the flimsy necklace you always seem to wear to gently pull you closer to him. When your lips meet once again, he takes it slow, big hand curling around your neck to hold you there. Plump lips gently kissing your lower lip, then placing another one, testing the waters before diving deeper.

And it’s slow and measured and mellow. Means a lot more than your kiss in the kitchen. The hot press of his tongue, a taste that’s uniquely him. Hands exploring his smooth muscles like you just can’t get enough.

If you could stay here, away from the prying eyes of the world – you’d spend your entire time just kissing him, feeling his warm body against your own, feel his heart beating so wildly against your own until your lungs are on fire and begging you to stop. But you couldn’t even then.

Your shift closer until you feel his length, hot and so hard pressing against your bare thigh, leaking a little at the tip. When you tenderly wrap your hand around him, he leaves a shuddering gasp. Eyes flutter open, tongue swiping over his lip, as he just breathes.

You might be the first woman to ever touch him like this in a very long time. He cannot believe he waited this long to feel this way.

“Please...” He whimpers, swallowing hard.

“Tell me what you want, baby.” A kiss to his jaw.

“I wanna be inside you, please just –”

You shush him another peck on the lips.

“We’ll get there.” Then there’s that wicked smile gracing your perfect lips before you’re kissing down his chest, pushing him to lay down. His neck strains as he struggles to look at you. Your warm, sweet eyes glimmering in the silver moonlight, meet his dark lustful ones. And before he can gauge it, you’re lowering your mouth down his length.

A choked gasp is all he can manage to get out before his head hits the pillow, eyes pinched shut and fingers gripping the sheets under him.

“Christ –” He locks his jaw. Inch by inch, your incredibly amazing mouth takes him in. Lips stretching around his thickness, eyes watering because of the slightest discomfort. You pace yourself, stop and gulp when it becomes too much, breathing hard through your nose before continuing until he hits the back of your throat.

The moan that you give out around him – he nearly fucks up into your mouth – you catch him completely off guard. His fingers thread through your hair, wordlessly begging you to do something.

So you put him out of his misery and start moving your head, getting acquainted with the intrusion. A few strokes of your tongue, warm and wet and covering the veined underside of his cock, base to tip before it’s back rolling around the tip. Balls pulling uptight and it’s just so, very overwhelmingly filthy. The sounds you make as you choke on his dick, this feeling that zips up and down his body and settles deep in his gut. Warming him from head to toe.

“Come here,” he pulls you off his dick, and within seconds he’s crashing his lips with yours. Tongue first, getting to taste himself on your own. He grabs ahold of himself, lines the tip up with your entrance and tugs your body down to meet him.

“Oh, Steve –” you moan, all sweet and whiney. Squirming to accommodate him inside your warmth. Your walls clench around his girth and he’s only halfway inside you. You sit back, nails digging into the flesh of his chest, no doubt leaving crescent marks. You try to gather your bearings before your sink down his cock until you’re joined completely.

It’s like a missing piece of a puzzle finally coming together to complete the picture. Just like everything that happened between the two of you that came boiling down to this moment. The one you were both desperately waiting for.

You gaze into his eyes, and he’s utterly fucked out, delirious. Those half-lidded eyes, lips parted, sweat beginning to glisten on his chest and throat.

“Baby, I will explode if you don’t start movin’ –”

Large hands bracket the outside of your thighs until they’re grabbing your ass, pushing you, urging you.

“Fuck me.” He whispers, all but begs.

You comply with a wistful moan, begin a series of thrusts, sliding off his dick almost entirely before your sinking down again. Steve watches himself disappear inside your heat again and again like he might just be obsessed. You repeat it until you feel him twitch inside you, feel him growing harder as one of your palms come under to squeeze his balls. It nearly makes him come.

He bites his lip, stopping the moan that’s threatening to rip out of his throat. And you do it again in the hopes of breaking his resort.

“No one’s here, baby. Let me hear you moan.”

In some wicked sense, it’s freeing. He doesn’t have to give two shits about what’s outside this safe house. Only you and him. Bodies hot and moulding perfectly, moving in such sweet synch that it’s so easy to lose himself in this moment. And never wants to leave.

Soon, it’s not only your sweet moans that fill the small room but his too.

Unabashedly, without a thought, Steve lets his guard down. The way he grunts when you grind against him, let the tip of his cock rub your sweet spot. How you close your eyes and lose yourself in the pleasure you greedily take from him. That sweet furrow between your delicate brows as you put all your focus and energy into this. And the way those breathy moans leave your lips. His head is spinning.

His eyes travel down to your breasts, heaving and bouncing lightly in tandem with your thrusts. Greedy hands grabbing onto them, fingers roughly rolling the hardened nipples between them. Then he lowers his hand down, between the juncture where you sink down on him, time and again, to catch your clit, assaulting the little nub the same way.

A strangled moan of his name, you arch your back, loving the way he touches you like you’re a delicate little flower. God, but you’re far from it. Your hands move up to his neck, body slightly bending forward until your hand is wrapping around his throat. He smiles, licks his dry lips and nods his head. His mind goes back to what you’d said earlier, you can have your way with me.

Funny, how he finds the situation to be the complete opposite.

The pressure you apply on his neck is all-consuming. His senses boil down to zero, only feeling your hand, warm and dainty, soft. The way you clench around him in quick spasms when he relentlessly circles your clit and before you know it, you’re both tipping off the edge.

Your pleasure only makes you tighten your grip around his throat, it’s too much. Too intense. The air slowly slips away from his lungs, the movements of his fingers falter but he keeps thrusting upwards into your heat, prolonging your highs because he’s still coming and coming and coming. Spilling hot inside you as a string of curses spill from his mouth.

Eyes rolling back into his head before you ease up, letting go and lean down to kiss those luscious lips.

“You did so well, baby.” A whispered praise brushing against his mouth. He whimpers pathetically at it. Wants to hear you say it over and over again, how good he is to you. “I told you, it would help to take the edge off.”

He feels light-headed, he’s gone soft inside you. You’re pretty sure you’ll make a mess if you slide off his cock right away. You can feel his release seeping out right now as it is, pooling at the base of his cock.

“Fuck, I –” He begins to speak, cheeks burning hot from embarrassment.

“It’s okay.” You mumble, not moving off him just yet. “I’m just gonna lie down on you for a while.” His heartbeat is surprisingly calm where you lay your cheek right above it, breasts bare and soft against the soothing rise and fall of his chest. Heavy limbs, tangled in each other’s. He wraps his arms around your back.

There’s a moment’s worth of silence before Steve talks.

“You know we can’t do this when we get back home.”

You nod your head, not daring to look him in the eye. Steve deftly twirls a sweaty strand of your hair around his finger, tucking it behind your ear. He can’t see your expressions but he can tell his words are hurting you.

“So?” You mumble.

“So, what?

“Are we just supposed to find a safe house every time we wanna be together?”

“Honey...”

“We don’t have to tell anyone.” He can feel the smile in your tone. “This will be our little secret.”

You look up to face him, chin resting on the back of your hands, a hopeful smile on your pretty lips.

“C’mon, Steve. It’s only fair, isn’t it? We’ve never been selfish. Don’t you want to allow yourself this one thing that’s only yours?”

“You’re mine?” He asks, but the surprise in his tone makes you want to scoff.

“I always have been, if you didn’t know already.”

“Then I’m yours.”

“Gee, thanks for confirming.” You grin at him, leaning up to kiss him one last time before your cheek is back on his chest. Steve gently traces his fingers up and down the length of your back. The cool air drifting in through the open window is a welcoming comfort on your warm skin as you snuggle impossibly closer. A soft yawn escapes your lips and your eyelids are getting heavier.

Just as you’re slipping into a deep slumber, Steve mumbles a soft goodnight. Admiring your sleeping form until sleep consumes him, too.

Steve thinks, maybe he should allow himself to have this one thing. Because as you said, it’s only fair.