armiise

[armiise]

𝙿𝚞𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝙱𝚞𝚝𝚝𝚘𝚗𝚜- 𝚂𝚝𝚎𝚟𝚎 𝚁𝚘𝚐𝚎𝚛𝚜

Steve Rogers x f!Reader

Synopsis-- You're new to the team, and everyone seems to accept you. Except Steve.

wc: 5.4k

warnings/ info-- smut (Minors DNI!!) smut with plot, unprotected p in v (pleeaase be safe irl) creampie, user is described as being shorter than Steve, enemies with Steve, Steve is a protective softie, mentions of violence during missions, alcohol, SLIGHTTT fluff

You thought everything had been going well since you’d joined the team— everyone seemed particularly fond of you. 

Well, almost everyone. 

Tony and Clint cracked jokes with you over rushed breakfasts. Your missions with Nat couldn’t have gone better. You occasionally spent time with Bruce in the lab. When he let you, that is. The team welcomed you without much hesitation. 

All except for one. Captain America, if he was in uniform. Steve with everyone else. Whatever name he went by, there was one thing that never changed; he didn’t like you. 

His disdain was never obvious. He never really said it outright, never made a scene. Knowing Steve, even for a brief amount of time, it wasn’t his style. It was the small things – the way his words would stall every time you joined a conversation, forced smiles, and lingering glances that disappeared every time you looked his way. He was polite and always respectful, but there was a space between the two of you that he didn’t seem interested in closing. 

You couldn’t figure out what you’d done to deserve it. In the beginning, you tried to stay on his good side in any way you could. You thanked him whenever he’d hold a door open, answered every question with a smile, and even laughed at his failed attempts at jokes when the rest of the team stayed quiet. But nothing ever changed. You decided to give it all up. 

It was baffling to you that America’s Golden Boy, who everyone loved so much and who seemed to love everyone, walked right past you without so much as a lowly greeting. 

You told yourself never to take it personally. 

—-----------------------------------

The conference room was already full by the time you’d entered, your fingers clutching onto the paper coffee cup in your hand. The blinding fluorescent lights made you look and feel more exhausted than you cared to admit. 

You watched as a holographic lamp flickered in the middle of the table. As usual, Steve was at the end of the table, arms crossed over his chest. He didn’t wait for you to take your seat before speaking. 

“Alright,” he starts, setting a flimsy fine onto the table. “We’ve got a situation.” Steve’s voice echoes in the vast room. 

“Oh yeah, genius? Why else would we be here?” Tony chides, and Steve shoots him a glance from across the room before schooling his expression and shifting on the balls of his feet. 

“Our target is a biotech facility up in Alaska,” he said evenly. “One of our agents reported that they’re attempting to manufacture gene-editing drugs under the guise of pharmaceutical research.”

Natasha leans forward in her chair. “What, like a super-serum?” 

Steve’s voice grows wary, a muscle ticking in his jaw. “Could be. Even if it isn’t, if they’ve got something to hide, it can’t be good.”

“We’ve got a twelve-minute window between security shifts. One team should enter through the loading dock. Another team secures the main laboratory up on the third floor. 

You frown as you look into the file. Your body pushes itself up in the desk chair, your eyes flicking through the folder in front of you before letting it shut with a quiet thud. 

“You’ve got the wrong entry point.”

Steve’s gaze darts to you, and then to your finger pointing to the map on the table. “Excuse me?” 

“The loading dock,” you say, pointing again to the map. “It’s the most obvious entrance they have. All the cameras are pointed straight at it. I don’t know about you, but if I were in charge of protecting a project like this, that’s exactly where I’d expect us to come in from.”

Steve’s composure falters for a moment before his arms tighten around his broad chest, and his head tilts mockingly. “Alright then, what do you suggest?” 

Your lips purse together at Steve’s nonsensical plan, but you relax your face as your hand points toward another section of the blueprint. “There’s an old maintenance tunnel running near the east wing. It’s narrow, but it should fit some of us directly under some of the laboratories. Beats Clint banging around in the vents.” A hushed laugh reaches your ears from someone at the table, and the corner of your lip quirks up slightly. 

Steve doesn’t look anywhere near amused. “That tunnel hasn’t been used in years, it could collapse.”

That earns a sharp retort from your lips. “It won’t. I looked over the  geological survey this morning.”

“You looked into this before the briefing?” His voice doesn’t come out as smooth as it did at the beginning of the meeting. 

“I know because I read the intel packet.” The rest of the team has long gone quiet, gazes flitting from you to Steve like it was a tennis match.

Steve’s expression tightens slightly, the change in his expression so slight that you could’ve missed it if you looked away from his face for a second. 

“We’re sticking to the original plan.”

You let out a scoff, your heartbeat quickening as frustration floods you. “Why, because it’s your plan?” 

Steve remained annoyingly calm. “Because it’s the safest.”

“No.” Your head ticks slightly in a small shake. “It’s the safest plan on paper. Mine assumes that the enemy– who is attempting to create illegal super-serums, by the way – is competent.” Your words hang in the room. 

Steve shifts on his feet again. “You always assume the worst.”

Your jaw locks. “You always assume the best. You should work on that.”

That gains a narrow glance from Steve at your face, his palms pressing flat on the table. “My responsibility is making sure we all get out of that building alive.”

“So is mine.”

Steve goes silent for a moment as you step over to the door. One of his hands comes up to run over his face, an action of exhaustion, before revealing the equally exhausted face beneath. 

You pause at the doorway. “So.. My plan then?”

Steve rests a tense hand on the edge of the table. “Get your gear ready.”

A small, infuriating smirk crosses your face as your hand reaches for the door. 

“Yes, sir.” 

______________________________

The lot of you were crowded up on the rooftop of a neighboring building, Steve in the front. The compound looked deceptively quiet. Security guards paced around the perimeter with rifles slung over their shoulders, and another pair stood blocking the loading dock doors. Muttered words from their mouths complained about night shifts, chatted about their home lives, casually making conversation. Too casual. Either they seriously believed no one would be dumb enough to hit the place, or they were counting on it. 

Steve crouched behind the ledge of the rooftop, turning his head just enough to glance at the team. “Place is more stranded than we’d expected,” he murmured into the comms. “Doesn’t mean this’ll be easy. Stay sharp.”

Your fingers fiddle with the strap securing your pistol to your thighs as Steve turns fully to face you. “Stay close.”

You feel a rush of annoyance at his words. “I don’t need a babysitter. 

“Didn’t say you did.” He’s already moving.

“You implied it.”

Steve’s hands flexed at his sides. “I said stay close.”

Before you have the chance to respond, Sam’s voice crackles in the comms. “North is clear.” Nat’s voice followed with a smooth, “West sides secure.” 

The team slipped away from the rooftop one by one from the fire escape before crossing the narrow alleyway that leads to the facility. It all went according to plan for about three minutes. Sam knocked out the first guard successfully, the second one dropped before he could click on his radio. 

A third abruptly rounded the corner. His flashlight cuts across the loading dock just as Clint lands on a stack of shipping containers. The radio on his chest crackles to life as he calls into it. 

“Movement. We got intruders.” 

The facility erupts before you can comprehend what just happened, alarms blaring through the compound, floodlights flashing bright in your eyes. Security guards poured out from the side gates, rifles already raised. 

“So much for quiet.” A mutter from Nat. 

Steve’s composure didn’t falter as he called into the comms. “Move inside.”

Bullets instantly rained down on the concrete around them. Your feet moved before you had time to think, sprinting behind a row of shipping containers. You fumble with the pistol on your thigh, the strap refusing to budge, before you rip it free. Ignoring the sharp slam of your heart against your ribs, you lean quickly around the corner of the shipping crate, hastily shooting twice. One guard’s body falls limp to the ground, while another stubbornly ducks behind a truck. 

“They’re pushing from the south entrance too,” you yell into the comms over the boom of bullets around you. Your gaze lands on the three guards bolting from another hallway. 

Without thinking, you slip out from your cover, feet pulling you across the loading bay to the hallway. If those guards reached the interior before you, they were sure to lock the laboratory doors before any of you could get to it, before calling in backup to take care of the rest of you, of course. 

You barely acknowledge Steve in the corner, ducking just behind a fence. 

“What are you doing?” He barks in the comms. 

You ignore him as another flood of bullets ricochet off the tall steel beams around you. A comes from Steve under his breath before launching himself after you. The shield caught the first round of fire with a deafening clang, bright orange sparks flying like fireworks. 

You barely have time to register the familiar red and blue blur before Steve’s hand darts to your vest, pulling both of you behind a concrete pillar. 

The look on his face was something you’d never seen before. The heave of his chest, the faint scowl on his mouth, and the deep furrow between his brows is almost unrecognizable for the ‘calm and collected leader’ he was. 

You shoved his lingering hand from your vest. “I had them.”

Steve’s frown deepens. “There were three rifles pointed straight at your chest.” 

Your jaw clenches in irritation at his badgering. “They were seconds away from sealing the hallway.”

“And you were seconds from getting yourself killed.” He leans closer, lowering his voice despite the echoing gunfire around them. “Stop playing hero.”

Another burst of gunfire slammed into the pillar beside them. Steve instinctively shifted closer, angling his body to shield the two of you from the chunks of concrete raining down on you. 

Steve’s eyes noticed the guard rushing to the pillar before you did. His shield struck the guard’s rifle hard enough to send it skidding across the pavement before Steve drove him into the wall with one clean, practiced shove. 

Another guard appears behind him, and you fire just once. For a split second, the two of you stood back-to-back, chests heaving in unison. Neither of you acknowledged it. 

“We move together.” He peeks around the pillar just as another explosion booms from the opposite side of the compound. 

Sam’s voice crackles over the comms once again. “We’ve got guards coming in from the east side.”

Steve spun on his heel, turning his attention to the doorway just ahead. “You stay with me.” Your gazes locked for only a second. “I’m serious.” 

Something in his expression made it impossible to dismiss. It wasn’t the same face he made when he argued with you in the briefing room. It wasn’t controlled. Not entirely, at least. Beneath the obvious annoyance was something quieter. 

You can tell the reluctant concern for you was bothering him, his muscles tensing a little more, taking a step away from you. 

You look away first. “Fine...” you muttered. 

You and Steve push off the pillar together, falling into step shoulder-to-shoulder and disappearing into the laboratory, just as another group of guards rush down the hallway to meet you. 

______________________________

The flight back home was painfully quiet. Not because you had lost. In fact, you’d done quite the opposite. The scientists had been extracted alive, and years of data had been collected and confiscated. The success didn’t stop the silence that settled over the team. 

Sam’s head tipped back against the wall. His eyes shut, and you thought he must’ve been sleeping, but the tension that gripped his shoulders told you otherwise. Nat stood near the cockpit, cleaning one of her pistols quietly. Two medics wander around the Quinjet, quickly checking over any of you who’d taken hits, murmuring in hushed voices as they wrapped bandages. 

You don’t mention the argument. You don’t mention how Steve had practically thrown himself between you and the relentless gunfire. 

You sat opposite him, resting your forearms on your knees, a bandage wrapped around your shoulder where a slab of concrete must’ve grazed you somewhere between it all. You insisted it wasn’t anything serious, but Steve disagreed. 

____________________________

The Avengers compound never fully slept. Even after midnight, agents darted from corridor to corridor with mission reports in their hands, the harsh, blinding lights accompanying them. 

Nobody who was part of the operation was allowed to leave HQ for at least seventy-two hours. The scientists they’d captured weren’t exactly making it easy. Half of them had memorized all the research to the point that they could start the whole thing over somewhere else. Until every lead was exhausted, until every loose thread was pulled, every member of the team was staying on site. 

During the hassle of it all, people rushing to medbay, Steve cornered by directors demanding a debrief, and the hiss of quiet conversations, you managed to slip away to the common area. 

A content sigh escapes your lips as you realize the floor is empty, and you immediately stumble over to the small bar sitting in the corner. There wasn’t much there – a few bottles of bourbon, cheap vodka. Tony's probably stolen all the good stuff for himself. Either way, it was better than nothing. 

Your hand settled on an old bottle of whiskey, your shoulder stinging in protest as you poured a hefty amount in an empty glass. You didn’t bother sitting right away. Instead, you made your way over to the window, your good shoulder resting against the frame as you stared beyond the glass. 

The first sip burns a path down your throat, but you welcome it. It gave you something else to focus on besides the image that kept replaying in your head. Steve’s hand gripping your vest. The look in his eyes. 

You swallow another mouthful as the door to the common area opens with a small click. You don’t turn around. You know who it is. 

Steve’s heavy feet step inside, shutting the door behind him quietly, as if slamming it shut would shatter any fragility in the room. He spotted the whiskey immediately. His eyes linger on it for a second before finding you instead. 

“Figured you’d be here.” 

You lift the cold glass to your lips once again without looking back. You stay silent. 

His lips press together. Not in annoyance, just in exhaustion. “I’ve been looking for you.”

“I wasn’t hiding.”

“No.” His voice is different now, almost soft. “You just made sure nobody could find you.”

You finally glance over your shoulder at that. 

“I was just trying to make sure you were okay.” You look away again, taking another sip instead of answering him. 

Steve watches you for a moment. He notices the slight tremor in your fingers and the way you try to pretend he’s not there. He takes a slow breath, hands sinking into the pockets of his black sweatpants as he walks further into the room. 

“You could’ve gotten yourself killed.” He points over at your bandaged shoulder. “Damn near could’ve.” His voice isn’t chiding. If anything, it’s quieter than usual. You swirled your wrist, watching the amber liquid roll around in your glass before answering. 

“I got everyone out.”

Steve’s jaw tightened. “That’s not what I meant.” His brow furrows in frustration as he scans you again, searching you for any kind of reaction, any kind of answer. 

You turn to face him fully, slightly grimacing at the sharp pain that blossoms in your sore shoulder. “Guards were blocking the lab.”

“I know.”

“They were about to lock the doors.”

“I know.”

“So I moved.”

“You charged into open gunfire.” Steve lets out a slow breath and drags a hand across the back of his neck. His gaze never leaves you. 

“I watched you take cover,” he continues, his voice grows rougher with each word. “I watched you take, what, three steps before they started shooting, and all I could think was..” His voice stops, he swallows hard and shakes his head slightly. “All I could think was how you were gonna die if you couldn’t get there fast enough.”

You blink, and all your words, all your retorts die in your throat. 

Steve huffs a humourless laugh under his breath. “You know what the worst part of all of it was?” he asks quietly. “It wasn’t that you ran, it was that you didn’t look back.” He’s only a few steps away from you now, his eyes searching yours desperately. A plea. Silently begging for you to say just one word proving him wrong. “You didn’t check to see if someone was with you. You didn’t wait for cover, and you didn’t hesitate for a second.”

Your grip tightens around the forgotten glass in your hand. “It worked,” you murmur quietly. 

Steve presses his eyes shut for a moment, and when he opens them again, the frustration in his eyes has been replaced with something almost vulnerable. 

“I don’t care.” He swallows again. I don’t care that it worked.” His voice wavers ever so slightly, you could’ve missed it had your hearing not been sharpened to focus solely on his words. 

“I don’t care because if one of those rounds had been an inch lower, I wouldn’t be standing here arguing with you.” A loose hand pulls out of his pocket, helplessly gesturing to you before letting it fall to his side. 

The expression on your face falters, your mask cracking slowly. Only for a heartbeat, but Steve caught it anyway. 

“Why?” Genuine confusion sneaks into his once controlled voice. “Why is it always you who’s willing to step in front of everyone when the bullets start flying, hm? 

You look back into the depths of amber in your glass, and when you don’t answer him, he speaks again. “D’you really think no one would go after you?”

Your throat tightens. “I don’t think about that.”

“I know you didn’t.”

You raise the whiskey again, desperate for something to do with your hands, but Steve reaches out before it could tap against your lips. His fingers wrap gently around it, just to stop it. The warmth of his hand around yours catches you off guard, your breath stuttering in your chest. 

His thumb shifts against the smooth crystal of the glass before he eases it out of your hand and sets it on the counter behind him. 

Steve lets out another shaky breath, rubbing his hands over his face (a familiar tick you’ve come to recognize), before dropping them back to his hips. “I’ve led a lot of missions. I’ve watched a whole lotta good people get hurt. I’ve watched people die.” As his eyes met yours, you know he means Bucky. “For a few seconds there, I thought you might be another one of ‘em.”

Steve stands just a step away from you now, his shoulders no longer tense in that commanding posture you’ve come to know so well. You swallow nothing in particular and let your eyes drift to the glass he set on the counter before looking back at him. 

“I don’t..” You feel an unfamiliar lump as the words get stuck in your throat, and you force it to clear before trying again. You look down at your bandaged arm, the pain seeming to dwindle as time passes. “I wasn’t trying to prove anything today.”

Steve’s gaze darts around your face. “I believe you.”

“I wasn’t trying to..” Your voice wavers as you hesitate. “I wasn’t trying to make you think I didn’t care whether I came back.”

Steve’s answer comes without the hesitation you had. “I’m trying to understand you.” He takes another step. The two of you are almost eye-to-eye. 

“Today I realized the thought of losing you scares me a hell of a lot more than I’d wanted it to.” 

Steve stands right in front of you, and you have to tip your head back to meet his gaze. His blue eyes seem darker in the dim light of the empty common room. His eyes flit between your eyes and your lips in a way that makes your breath hitch in your throat. The warmth in your gut has nothing to do with the drink you just had. 

“I can’t do this anymore,” he says roughly and your head tilts in a silent question. “I can’t pretend it doesn’t terrify me every time you try and pull a stunt like that. 

You let out another murmur, your pulse hammering more insistent with every passing moment. “Then stop.” So quiet you thought he missed it. 

You close the remaining space between you. Your throat bobs once again as Steve’s hand comes to cup your jaw. The moment your lips part, to make some sarcastic comment or tease him, his chest crashes into yours. His lips slot against yours with impatient fervor, his tongue swiping against your lips to push himself deeper. The large span of his hand tangles in your hair, and you can feel his nails scraping against your scalp as he angles your face just right to work his lips against yours. The feeling sends tremors all through your body as you let out a mewl against his lips. You can feel your arousal pooling in your panties, and Steve seems to know right away. His free hand comes down to cup your clothed cunt, and a dizzying wave of lust washes over you as you cry out into his mouth. 

Steve groans in response, pushing his hand harder between your thighs. “You feel it there?” he mutters, his forehead dropping to yours for a brief second before his swollen lips find yours again. 

The clothes on your bodies disappear in a blur. You tug on the hem of his shirt, he loops his fingers through the waistband of your pants. 

“Arms up, he coaxes you before ripping the shirt up and off your body. A hand reaches up to cup your breast, your nipples aching against the tight fabric of your bra. His hands slither around your body to unclasp it, while yours run down the solid planes of his bare chest to the waistband of his pants. He lets out a groan in your ear, slipping the useless piece of fabric off your torso and onto the ground with the rest of your clothes. His big hands splay across your chest, rubbing slow circles around your nipples that make your thighs slick with your arousal. 

Your other hand trails down to palm the outline of his hard cock through his boxers. His hips jerk in response, a strangled gasp ripping from his throat. “Fuck..” The words come out breathless from his kiss-swollen lips. His palm rubs the heel of his palm firmly on your clit, the friction making you arch into his chest, toes curling. “Don’t do that,” he mutters softly between kisses in the crook of your neck. 

You mumble a quiet, “Make me”  into the silence of the empty room and his hand immediately draws back from between your legs. You whine at the loss of contact only for it to fade into a gasp as Steve’s hands slide down to the backs of your thighs, squeezing at the soft expanse of skin before hoisting you up against his chest. Your thighs wrapped around him, tight around his hips. 

Your hands instinctively come up to clutch onto his shoulders, but you’re solely aware of the press of his bulge to the inside of your thigh with every step he takes toward the couch. His lips are back on yours, the taste of his mouth on you electric. 

You break the kiss as your intertwined bodies crash down onto the couch before you swing your leg over his lap. Leaning down, you cup his jaw with both hands, pressing your lips to his once again. Steve’s fingers hastily come up to tear your panties off, tugging at and eventually tearing the thin barrier of black lace. 

You lower yourself onto his lap, grinding down on him with slow, torturous movements, earning a stuttering gasp from him. Your hips roll on his clothed cock, painting his boxers slick as his hands tighten their grip around your waist. 

You let out a breathy laugh against his lips, still open and gasping for you. “Doesn’t seem like I irritate you anymore, huh?” Another slow roll of your hips, and his cock twitches between your legs. 

His jaw locks again, but your gaze zeroes in on the slight flutter of his lashes as you grind against him. “Not my choice.”

You attempt to laugh again, but he’s quicker, gripping your hair with his hand and pulling your face back on his. His tongue slips into your mouth without restraint, your lips pressing against one another as Steve’s hands work their way down to the waistband of his boxers. 

Your hands press against his tense shoulders, pushing yourself off him just enough to glance down at the way he slowly pulls his boxers down his legs. His cock juts out instantly, a sheen of pre-cum flushing his tip as it bobs slightly against his stomach. 

Your eyes bulge out of your skull at his length. Not just that, but the thickness of him. You fail to repress a snort of laughter, and Steve’s eyes narrow just barely. “This doesn’t seem like the time to be laughing.” His breathy voice snaps you out of your days and you clear your throat. 

“I’m sorry, it’s just..” your voice trails off into a huff. “How many people have seen this since, like, 1945?” 

The furrow between his brows deepens as he snaps at you. “Enough people.” The corner of your lip twitches up involuntarily at his defensive tone. 

Your gaze drops back to his cock, and you bring yourself closer, chests pressing against each other as you line your slit up with him. Steve curses under his breath, his cock twitching against your soaked pussy. 

You begin to lower yourself down, the tip of his dick pushing into you as your hips seek his. The stretch of him burns, he fits less than halfway before your hips jerk away from his. Steve’s eyes press shut, his jaw ticks again. You take a shuddering breath and try again. You run the head of his cock up and down your slit, prepping yourself with his surprisingly fat tip before lowering your hips down on his. Each inch of his cock slipping into your slick walls makes your thighs tremble against his. 

Steve’s hips buck up into yours on instinct, burying his thick cock inside you to the hilt with one thrust. You moan against the corner of his mouth, pressing your eyes shut at the stretch as you push yourself to rock your hips. He grunts and presses a kiss to your lips. “M’ sorry. You just feel so good.” His hips meet your slow rocks with quick bursts, the tip of his cock already hitting into you just right. 

Your walls clench around him, and his head lolls back against the couch. “Fuckin’ hate you.” The words just barely tear out of your throat. Your body is completely taken by the snap of his hips meeting yours with every thrust, the way his pelvis grinds against your clit as he buries himself to the hilt. His hands tighten their bruising grip on your hips, holding you in place as he thrusts up into you.

“I can’t annoy you that much, we wouldn’t be here right now,” he grits through his teeth, low and already wrecked. 

You clench your jaw, but it falters as his hips buck into you with a force that knocks a whimper right past your lips. “Fuck you,” you manage to respond, fingers sinking into his shoulders as you try to ground yourself. 

“You already are.” Your desire outweighs your irritation as you start to ride him more confidently. Every thrust forces a breath from your lungs. You rock hastily, pressing down on him rough and hard, chasing relief from the aching in your gut. 

“Just wanna make you feel good, Stevie,” your voice is soft against his jaw. His throat tightens at your words, and you lift your head from his neck to take in the sight of him. His head is thrown back against the couch, mussed golden hair sticking to his forehead. You whimper, rolling your hips down against his, and he groans again, fucking up into you harder now. 

He pulls you down to bounce on his dick, hips snapping up as his cock pistons inside you. His blue eyes stick on the sight of his cock disappearing inside your tight cunt with each thrust. “S’ too good.” His words are stuttered. “You keep moving on me like that and I might never leave your pretty pussy alone.” You watch as his mouth falls open. 

Your head throws back in pleasure, eyes rolling to the back of your skull. “Feels so fucking good, Stevie, m’ gonna come.” You squeeze your eyes shut as you force yourself to push through the burning in your thighs, hips slamming into his as you bounce on his cock. 

His chest heaves against yours, and the sound of his rough voice soaks your pussy around him even more. “Oh yeah?” he grunts, another sharp snap of his cock plunging deep into your cunt. “Gonna come on my cock even when you say you hate me so much?” His lips twist into that infuriating smirk, and you swear that if your orgasm wasn’t creeping behind you, you would slap him straight across the face. 

Instead, you whimper whorishly as your mouth comes crashing back down on his. You can tell he’s close. His hands rub harshly at the fat of your ass, and you’re sure it’ll be red by tomorrow morning. 

Your gut coils incredibly tight, your fingers tangle in his messy hair. Your nails claw at his neck in desperation, leaving angry red marks in their wake down to his broad shoulders. You can feel yourself right on the edge, your eyes flutter shut as your pussy flutters around him. 

It hits you like a train. Your body convulsing, his name spilling continuously from your lips, wet from his mouth. The snap of his hips grows erratic as he chases his own high, tearing a strangled groan through his throat. “Like you were made for me. Made for my cock.” He pants in your ear, and his muscles tense as he comes. You feel every spurt, his load burning hot inside your walls. Your pussy clamps down in brutal pulses, gushing around him and soaking the base of his cock. 

His hips keep rocking up into you, even after the both of you had come. His gaze is locked on where the two of you are joined, hips jerking as he unsteadily fucks his cum back into you. 

“S’pretty,” he hums. His forehead falls back down to your neck, and his hands gently rub at the red and purple marks on your hips and ass, a stark contrast to the actions that had got them there in the first place. 

Your eyes drift up to him, struggling to keep your eyes open and stop your thighs from shaking around him. “Was that a compliment?” A dopey smile plasters itself onto your lips and he chuckles softly, nipping at your collarbone. 

“Just an observation.” With that, you slump against his slick chest, arms coming up to wrap themselves around his neck. 

“Right. Just an observation.” 

“You really push my buttons, you know that?” His head lifts from your shoulder, and the lazy smirk on his lips betrayed him. 

You hum again, fingers playing with his hair absentmindedly. 

“So I’ve been told.”

a/n: I'm pretty sure I like gave up on the Bucky fic lowk.. feel free to leave me any ideas and I'll check them out and get to writing. Bye byeeee

[armiise]

𝑨𝒇𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝑪𝒓𝒆𝒅𝒊𝒕𝒔 𝑹𝒐𝒍𝒍

MDNI !!

Steve Rogers x F!Reader

wc: 1.5k (short oneshot)

Synopsis: Steve steals you away to the briefing room during a movie with the team ⋆˙⟡⋆˙

warnings/info: smut smut smut smut-- unprotected piv (be safe irl!!), creampie kinda, Steve is a SLUT, a little praise, some fluff at the end

a/n: I KNOW I said the Bucky fic was coming, but I want to put all of my effort into it since I'm planning on making it pretty long! I also haven't written fics in A WHILEEE so I'm pretty rusty, but I hope u guys like it. Love u

The team was gathered in the common area for a post-mission movie, once again. As usual, Tony had picked the loudest possible action movie there was, and everyone slightly groaned in response. You were curled up with Steve on the edge of the couch as he rubbed absent circles on your thigh with his fingers. He glances down at you slightly, ignoring the faint bickering of Clint and Tony in the background and focusing all of his attention on you. 

“What do you say we get outta here?” As usual, his voice is soft and grounding. His big hand splays across your thigh and gives it a little squeeze under the blanket. 

You hum slightly. “Okay, Cap, where to?” Your inquiry mimics his soft voice, and Steve shifts to lift you both off the couch. 

“Somewhere free of grown men fighting over action movies.” He jokes, shooting a glance toward Tony and Clint, who have dragged the rest of the team into their ‘debate’. 

The two of you sneak off without a second glance from anyone in the group, Steve’s hand gripping tightly onto your waist. Before you know it, his warm lips have latched onto your neck, nipping and sucking on the soft span of skin. 

“S’ pretty,” he murmurs, his voice muffled. The two of you barely make it to the briefing room before his hands are on you, greedily rubbing over the expanse of your body. His lips on your neck are getting more insistent, small love bites turning into cruel bite marks, and harsh purple marks beginning to bloom on your skin. 

“Steve,” you manage to choke out. “Not in the briefing room, anyone could walk in.” Despite your words, you can feel yourself arching into the solid planes of his chest, feeling every ridge between your clothes. 

Steve’s hands tug at the bottom of your tank top as he lays another sloppy kiss to your neck. “You’re such a tease with your little pyjamas. So pretty for me, hm?” His blue eyes track up to your face, darting from your eyes to your lips and back again. His hand trails up to your chest, gently rubbing one clad breast in his big hand.

You let out a soft moan as he slips his hands beneath the fabric of your tank top and roams around your body. “Lift your arms, pretty girl,” he hums softly in your ear, and you do, just as he lifts the tank top off to reveal your bare torso. 

Steve lets out a choked sound at the sight before letting his forehead fall into the crook of your neck. “So perfect, you know that? My perfect girl.” He nips slightly at your shoulder and reaches his arm down to rub one tit with his hand, gently flicking at your nipple. You let out another whimper and slither your hands into his hair to grip tightly.

“Fuck, Stevie.” You feel the familiar heat pool in your gut as your thighs rub together helplessly. “More,” you whimper softly into his ear, your hands tighten in his soft, golden hair. You can feel the bulge of his cock straining against his sweatpants pressing up against your thigh.

He lifts his head from the crook of your neck, still flicking at the peaks of your breasts. He lets go and lets his hands trail down your torso to grip onto your waist, effortlessly picking you up and setting you on the table. 

Steve reaches frantically toward his white tee shirt, his muscles clad under it before he peels it off. It’s a wonder that he can wear something as simple as a white tee and sweatpants and still get your pussy so wet. His fingers scramble at the drawstring of his sweatpants, kicking them off as soon as he can. 

“Hurry, Steve,” you badger impatiently, the ache between your thighs growing harder to ignore with each passing second. You can already see his hard cock outlined through his boxers, which he promptly pulls off. The moment you see him, your heart catches in your throat. You’ve seen him before, of course, but it’s a marvel how he manages to rip out the same reaction from you every single time you two are together. His cock springs free, standing up tall against his stomach. The head is swollen, an angry red with a pearl of white smudged on the slit. You choke out another moan at the sight as his hand goes to wrap around himself, stroking himself with long, painstaking strokes. 

His hips jerk into his hand as his hand continues its slow movements. “See what you do to me? This is all for you, angel.” His voice is a ragged growl, and you scramble to your shorts, your fingers looping through the waistband and pushing down. Steve’s pupils double in size, pitch black drowning out any trace of ocean blue as his hand pulls off his cock and onto your hip. 

His free hand trails between your thighs and onto your soaked pussy, still covered by the thin lace of your underwear. You let out a loud groan as the palm of his hand rubs your clit through your panties. “Fuck, you’re soaked through,” his voice is fraying at the edges, any sign of control lost as his fingers loop through the waistband of your panties, pulling them off with a quick swipe and discarding them with the pile of clothing on the briefing room floor. 

“Look at that.” He blows on your cunt, dragging a finger through the sticky warmth. “All ready for me, did I get you like this?” You whine, your chest shuddering with each breath as your head lolls into a nod. His long fingers press against your slit, but his eyes never leave your face. He pushes his fingers inside your cunt with one brutal thrust and pumps his hand. You moan as his fingers curl inside you. His calloused fingers feel like heaven gliding up against your slick walls. “Right there, Stevie, fuck.” Another string of babbles and encouragements pour out from your lips as his fingers pick up the pace, hitting that gummy spot in your pussy with every thrust. 

Just as you start to grind down on his hand, he pulls back, a string connecting your dripping wet cunt to his glistening fingers. Two fingers prod at your parted lips. “Come on, baby, clean them up.” Your pupils blow at the fact that he can make such filthy things sound like lullabies. He pushes two fingers deep into your throat, your lips and tongue working around them to suck his fingers clean. As he pulls his fingers from your mouth, his hands immediately come down on your knees to press your legs apart. He quickly strokes himself before the head of his cock presses onto your clit, drawing a strangled gasp from your throat. His tip rubs up and down your split, stretched out from his fingers, before his cock slips past your folds and inside you slowly. You babble a series of encouragements as you try to adjust to his aching length, his hips already jerking and the feeling of being inside you. 

“Fuck, I’m sorry,” his hips pull out and snap back hard into you. “Gotta– move.” His lips find yours, and the kiss is anything but gentle. A desperate clash of teeth, a nip and tug of the lower lip, his hands splaying across your back, under your ass as he fucks you into the table. He kisses like a man starved, his lips and body pushing into you as if he’s trying to merge your souls into one. You let out another sharp cry as his cock plunges into you with another, torturous snap of his hips.  

“Stevie – ‘m gonna come,” you bury your face in his neck while his thrusts don’t slow. 

He grunts, another snap of his hips, another squeeze of your waist, another shift of his thumb on your swollen clit. “Yeah? You gonna come all over my cock, let me come inside you?” 

You nod frantically, your hands flying out to drag your nails down the thin sheen of sweat covering his biceps. The last thrusts send blinding waves of white-hot pleasure through every nerve, and you hurriedly look down just in time to see the slick white ring around the base of Steve’s member. 

Your orgasm hits you like a train, your eyes rolling to the back of your skull, and moans and whimpers spill from your lips. Steve swallows every single one with his lips clamped on yours like a vice. With another grunt and cry, he lets himself go, spurting hot ropes of cum into your fluttering cunt. He keeps fucking you both through it as his thrusts turn shallow and soft. 

The only sound in the briefing room is your shallow breathing followed by the obscene squelching sound of him still rocking inside you. Steve’s forehead drops to yours with a quiet “I love you” as he kisses the corner of your lips. 

You laugh softly. “I don’t think we’ll ever be able to sit through a full movie again,” you say breathlessly between soft kisses. 

Steve smiles against your lips. 

“Worth it.”

a/n: This one is really short, but I hope u guys enjoyed !! I've been getting like zero sleep over the summer so I decided to put it to use. Feel free to leave any requests you want on my profile or in comments

[m3l0dy09]

GOD BLESS AMERICA !!!!!🇺🇸 🦅🦅🦅🦅💥💥💥🇺🇸🇺🇸

[scarlet48]

When your Best Friend Comes Back From The Past After Leaving You For A Girl He Kissed Once

[armiise]

Bucky fic is coming... QUICK, GIVE ME IDEAS

[waterclreyes]

[armiise]

𝘞𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘯𝘰 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘴 𝘮𝘺 𝘳𝘦𝘧𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘴𝘰 𝘐 𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘬 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴

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[cupidl0v3rr]

[armiise]

me when I'm not immediately perfect at every single thing I do