Sometimes I Write Things

Captain Rogers just stood there, studying her face. His eyes narrowed. He didn’t seem to quite believe her. “Do you want some soup?”

“…..Soup?” Y/N wasn’t sure to say to that. What an odd thing for him to offer.

“It’ll make you feel better. We could go out and get you some soup.”

The thought of going out made Y/N want to die. “As good as that sounds, I’ll pass, but thank you. I think I just need to lay down and I’ll be fine.”

Steve was a doll, truly, but she didn’t have the energy for going out or for long conversations…and especially not for trying to be pretty and at least moderately socially acceptable, two things she always tried her hardest to be in front of Steve.

And Thor.

Both. Both were good.

She tried to stand a little straighter and smile a little wider when either of the two were around, and sometimes it was borderline nerve wracking when they were both around. After all this time, all these years, they still tied her stomach in knots and made her heart beat faster. Both of them did.

The last thing she wanted right now was for either of them to see her down and out. She smiled and she excused herself from Steve and she slipped back into Stark’s penthouse of a tower and she pulled her coat around herself as she hurried to her private quarters. A hot shower was in order, and there was a heated blanket with her name on it (literally, she’d written it on the tag) waiting for her when she got out. She’d be fine. She was always fine.

The time between getting to her room and getting in bed blurred together. She did take that hot shower, and she brushed and dried her hair and put on the comfiest sleeping clothes she had and she buried herself beneath her blankets, though how she’d done all of that she couldn’t say. She melted when her head hit the pillow and her eyes fell shut.

xx

“What’s with the face, Rogers?” Thor tossed an apple from one hand to another before taking a bite from it. Steve looked up, pulled from his thoughts. Where were these guys always just randomly finding fruit, anyway? Tony with his blueberries, Thor with apples…

“I’m worried about Y/N,” Steve said to the God of Thunder.

Thor’s face fell, apple lowered away from his mouth. “Y/N? What’s wrong with her?” He took a step forward intently. “Has she been wounded?” Any tighter and the apple may have burst in his grip.

“No, she’s not wounded,” said Steve, adding, “I just don’t think she’s feeling great.”

Thor nodded sagely. “Soup,” he said with great certainty. “She needs to have soup. That’s what Midgardians do.”

“That’s what I told her!” Steve had to laugh.

“Of course it is,” Thor replied. “You Midgardians love your soup. But really, who doesn’t? There’s this place I visited once that made what I think was called minestrone, and—”

Alright that was enough. Steve tuned out Thor’s rambling. He needed to make Y/N feel better, but how? What we he supposed to do, go with Thor’s idea and kick in her door with soup?

Well, that was a possibility.

“Thor, this minestrone place. Where was it?” Steve interrupted.

“It was here, in New York! They also have a type of bread where they—”

Steve didn’t care about bread. “Do they have more kinds of soup?”

Thor’s face lit up. “Yes, all kinds! And the bread is stuffed with cheese.”

Steve chewed the inside of his cheek for a moment, then nodded. “Think you can go get Y/N some soup? I’m going to stay here and make her some tea.”

“Of course I can get her some soup!” Thor haphazardly tossed the apple onto the counter, where it rolled, then fell to the floor on the other side. The Asgardian paid no mind. “I’ll get her the best damn soup she’s ever had. Our Y/N will be kicking ass again in no time.”

Thor headed for the door, but Steve stopped him. “Thor!” he called out. The lightning lord paused and looked over his shoulder. “Some of that cheese bread, too.”

Thor gave him a thumbs up.

Steve felt oddly domestic. He stood in the communal kitchen making tea, occasionally awkwardly glancing around to see if anyone else had come in. They hadn’t. Most everyone else was busy or off doing something more important than standing around Stark Tower’s kitchen. When the water boiled, he rummaged for a box of Y/N’s favorite tea and fished out a bag. There were pain relievers and fever reducers in the cabinets (even heroes had back pain) and he added a bottle of each to the tray. Still, Steve frowned. It didn’t really feel like enough. Y/N did so much for everyone all the time, and all he had to offer he was some store-brand pain relievers and tea he’d taken from her own box.

“I’m back!” boomed Thor, all but kicking the doors open. He was carrying not one, not two, but three bags.

“That was fast,” Steve admitted. “What is all of that? Where did you go?”

“I didn’t know what to get her,” Thor admitted. “What if she didn’t like minestrone? Or what if she did and I got her something else and it was the wrong thing and minestrone was what she really wanted? So I asked them what else they had and they started listing all these things. What if she wanted a vegan option? And they had three different kinds of chicken soup—what if I picked her the wrong kind? So I got one of everything.”

Thor began taking small, Styrofoam pint-sized cups out of the paper bags. Steve raised an eyebrow. There had to be at least twenty. “Did you really?”

Thor looked up, wide-eyed. “Did I really what?”

“Get one of everything.”

“Yes, of course I did! One of every soup, that is.” He pulled the last item out of the last bag. “And cheesy bread. They gave me this for free for buying so much soup.” Thor folded the paper bag and laid it on the counter. “Buying things is easy on Midgard. Tony’s card works every time!” He proudly slapped Stark’s credit card down on the counter. “It never runs out!”

Steve didn’t argue. He placed three of the pints of soup on the tray along with the tea and pain relievers. It seemed sufficient to perk Y/N up now.

“This should do it,” said Steve. “Thanks for your help, Thor.”

Thor frowned. “But what of the rest of the soup?”

“I can’t fit twenty soups on one tray and I’m not making six trips. Y/N wouldn’t let me. She’d want to get up and help and that’s the opposite of what we want.”

“Well what if she wants—” Thor paused to read a label. “Wonton soup? You didn’t take the wonton soup.”

Steve hesitated.

“Everyone likes Wonton soup. I shall carry it.”

“Woah woah woah,” Steve said. “We don’t want to go bursting in there making a show of it. The goal is to keep her laying down.”

“Yes, Thor agreed, “and she can lay down with this wonton soup.” He glanced at the counter again. “How about this? You forgot the vegan option. What if she wants the vegan option? I must take her this one, too.”

Steve just stood there.

“And the wedding soup! How can you not take the wedding soup? Honestly, Rogers, it has tiny little meatballs in it. They’re cute and baby sized.” He stacked it on top of the wonton soup. “She will like this.”

When they finally left for Y/N’s room, Thor was carrying seventeen of the soups stacked precariously in his arms. Steve didn’t bother arguing.

xx

Knock knock.

Y/N’s eyes fluttered open. What time was it? The soft glow of the TV was the only light in the room, the volume turned down to barely audible. She was warm and comfortable but ultimately sore and drained. And hungry. When was the last time she’d had a good meal? She’d been so busy lately she’d not stopped to have a decent meal, much less cook herself something good and hearty and homemade.

Knock knock. “Y/N?”

She bolted straight up in bed. It hadn’t been the TV. There was someone at the door, and by the sounds of it, the someone had been Steve.

Knock knock. “Hey, Y/N! Are you awake?”

And Thor!? Y/N scrambled out of bed, aching muscles protesting as she found her footing. “Coming!” She padded over to the door, smoothing her hair with every step.

She opened the door.

Steve was there with a tray of tea and medicine and…three Styrofoam bowls of soup and some bread wrapped in brown paper. Thor was there with…even more soup? So much soup. Y/N squinted and shuffled from foot to foot, wondering if she was actually awake.

“Steve? Thor?” she looked from the men to the copious amounts of soup Thor was holding back to them again. She looked at Steve’s moderately sheepish smile, and at Thor’s signature ear-to-ear grin. Whatever they were up to, Thor was certainly proud of it.

“We thought this might made you feel better,” Steve offered.

Y/N smiled. “I feel better already.” She looked from the men to the soup again. “Would you…uh…like to come in? And set…all of this…down?”

“Yes, excellent!” boomed Thor. The men made their way in and set everything at her table. Steve awkwardly adjusted the tray, glancing around Y/N’s room.

“Thank you for all of this, seriously,” she said, reading the label on the first soup container she picked up. “You guys shouldn’t have. You’re too sweet.”

“Nonsense!” Thor told her. “Soup will make you feel better so I—we—got you all of the soup.”

Steve nodded. “All of the soup,” he agreed.

“Well, I’m not certain I can eat—” she did a quick count “—twenty pints of soup by myself. Would you like to stay and have some with me?”

“The point is for you to rest, not entertain us,” Steve reminded her. He was so close behind her that she could feel the warmth radiating from him. It made her skin tingle and her hair stand on end.

“I don’t mind entertaining you,” she said with a shrug. “You guys went out of your way to do so much for me, the least I could do is entertain you long enough to have some soup.”

“Only if you’re certain,” Thor said. “It’s truly all for you! We had no expectation of you inviting us in.”

The TV flickered behind them. “We could eat soup and drink tea and watch a movie,” Y/N suggested.

Thor and Steve exchanged glances. Steve shrugged. Thor grinned.

“Long day?” you asked.

Thor hadn’t heard you come in and all but jumped out of his skin. “Y/N!” he exclaimed. “What are you doing up—” His voice trailed off as his eyes trailed down your body, following the V of your robe to where it belted beneath your breasts.

You ignored the stare. Your robe was, admittedly, a little too open, so that was on you. Let him stare. It didn’t bother you one bit. “Looking for a drink, same as you,” you told him.

Thor tore his eyes away at last and looked back down at the glass in his hand. “What will you be having?” he asked, though his eyes darted back up to your robed figure for a split second.

“Depends,” you told him. “What have you got there?”

“Whiskey on the rocks.”

You moved around the sleek black bar and stood beside him. “Can you make me one of the same?” you asked, hopping up and sitting on the counter. You crossed one leg over the other through the slit of your robe, and this time Thor’s eyes wandered from your chest to your legs, from your legs to your chest, from your chest to your smiling lips, and then back to your legs again. He blinked. Then he shook his head lightly, as if to clear his thoughts like an Etch-a-Sketch, and busied himself making your drink.

“Of course,” he replied at last. He stole one more sidelong glance at your legs.

You liked Thor. It was no secret that you liked him. A lot. All too frequently you entertained yourself at night thinking about him and his beautiful blue eyes, that golden retriever grin…those insanely muscular arms and abs that looked like they were carved out of marble that you just wanted to reach out and touch. There was no part of Thor you didn’t want to reach out and touch, to be fair.

Now it was looking like maybe he wanted to reach out and touch you, too.

You’d had your suspicions before that Thor felt the same way about you that you felt about him, but it was just impossibly damn hard to tell. He was all smiles and silly remarks and good humor all the time, with everyone, and that included you. But he looked at you different, or at least, you told yourself he did. He looked at you just a split second longer than he looked at everyone else, his eyes just a bit softer, his smile a bit wider. And when he touched you, though it was rare, his hands would linger on you just a bit little longer than a normal touch should last.

How did you end up sitting in Tony Stark’s bar at two in the morning thinking about Thor touching you?

It was your turn to clear your head, and you fiddled with the robe’s belt in your hands as you waited patiently for Thor to finish making your drink.

You hadn’t realized he was staring at you. “I don’t think I’ve seen you running around in a bathrobe before,” he commented. You jumped with a start when he pulled you from your thoughts. “Is this something you do often?”

He extended your glass out to you and you took it with an appreciative nod. “Only when I’m looking for a drink at two in the morning,” you answered with a smile.

Thor smiled back. He watched you take a sip of the whiskey, and he noticed when you didn’t flinch at the strength of the drink. “You should be more careful, you know.”

“Come again?” You looked up from your drink, furrowing your brow.

“I mean, you never know who’s up and about here.”

You cocked your head to one side. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“You—I mean—” Thor stumbled over his own words, but you only stared at him. “You never know what people might think—or, I mean—what they might do, if they saw you like that.”

“Like what?” You were frowning now.

He gestured vaguely, motioning up and down your body with a sweep of his hands. “Like—well, like—it’s a very pretty robe, no doubt, but—it’s—you can see—”

“I like to think I’m pretty safe around people I know and trust.” You uncrossed your legs and slid down from the counter, bare feet colliding with the cold floor. “Besides, I can handle myself.”

“Of course you can,” started Thor, but you didn’t give him a chance to finish.

“I think my bathrobe and I should be just fine,” you interrupted. You weren’t about to let the lightning lord tell you what you should wear. “I’d walk around naked if I wanted to. I’m not afraid to break hands.”

You started to walk away, but Thor all but danced around in front of you. “Wait, wait!” he cried out. “I didn’t mean any offense Y/N, I promise you. I just meant…” he stopped himself this time. Heat rose to his face, flushing his skin with pink.

“You just meant…?”

“You never know who might want to take advantage of you.” He looked you up and down again. This time you couldn’t tell whether it was unintentional or not. For whatever reason, though you yourself didn’t know why, heat rushed to your face, too, among other places. You suddenly weren’t angry anymore. He hadn’t been trying to insult you, he’d been complimenting you but doing a very bad job of it.

You took a sip of your whiskey and closed the gap between the two of you, leaving mere inches between your bodies, just enough for you to hold your glass between your chest and his. You craned your head up to look him in the eyes. “And who here,” you started, “might want to take advantage of me?

Thor glanced down, though this time he was looking at the glass of whiskey. He took your glass from your hands and took a long drink. His eyes never left yours. When he was finished, he set the glass on the counter. With no warning, he leaned forward, putting his lips close to your ear. “Me.”

His breath was warm on your neck and made your hair stand on end. Your heart dropped into your stomach. Time stood still. For once, you didn’t have a quip to throw back at him. Instead, you just stood there, frozen in place, a wide-eyed deer in the headlights.

When Thor pulled away, he was smirking. Without looking away from you, he picked your glass back up and put it back in your hands. “I hope you sleep well, Y/N.”

You weren’t about to let him leave. Not after that comment. The moment he turned his back on you to leave, your glass of whiskey hit the black marble counter with a heavy clank. The God of Thunder didn’t even have time to turn back around before you grabbed him by the shoulder and pulled hard, forcing him to face you once more.

You rocked forward onto your tip toes, wrapped one hand around the back of his neck, and kissed him. Hard. He was stunned only for a moment, his hands quickly finding their way around your back. Your free hand found his shoulder and then your hands were roaming his body as much as his were roaming yours. Neither of you wasted any time, never even pausing to catch your breath. Both of your mouths tasted like whiskey as Thor forced his tongue into your mouth, desperate and hungry for more.

You allowed him to put his hands on your waist and turn you, pushing you so that your back was to the counter. He effortlessly lifted you from the floor as if you weighed nothing at all and sat you on the bar once more. It was instinctive when you wrapped your legs around his waist and pulled his body flush against yours, earning a sudden, deep groan from the Asgardian.

You felt his length press against your bare skin and found yourself wondering at what point he’d gotten so hard—when you kissed him? Or had he been hard all along, when his eyes were lost on your soft skin and shapely legs? You used your legs to pull him tighter, creating more pressure between the two of you. He groaned again, louder this time, finally breaking away from the kiss. You felt his cock throb even through his sweatpants as you ground against him.

“Goodness, woman,” he breathed. “You’re incredible.”

Even in the heat of the moment, you couldn’t help but smile at the unexpected little compliment. The sweet moment was short lived, however, because Thor’s hands were on your shoulders then, pushing your robe away and exposing your collarbones, neck, and shoulders to his hungry eyes. He moved in close again and kissed you, starting first beneath your ear, then along your jaw, then down your neck. His hands kneaded at your breasts as he kissed and licked at your skin. You shivered at his touch and subconsciously lifted one hand to the back of his head, stroking at his hair with your thumb.

By the time he was done kissing your supple skin you were only moments away from begging him to absolutely rail you. The God of Thunder did everything right and it was driving you wild; you wanted him more than you’d ever wanted anything in your life. When he pulled away from your neck and looked you in your eyes, you realized the look was mirrored and that he wanted you every bit as much as you wanted him. Thor looked to you for silent validation as he slowly began to pull your robe away from your breasts.

You nodded.

That was all it took.

In one quick motion, Thor pulled open your robe and left you exposed before him. He scarcely paused to take in the sight of your breasts before he was pulling away your sash, which he tossed sidelong onto the floor without even thinking about it. Your robe fell away and pooled around your hands and hips, leaving you entirely naked before him. His chest heaved, his breath leaving his body as he took in the sight before him, his eyes heavily lidded and mouth hanging open.

When he moved in to kiss you again, you pulled up one knee and stopped him. “Your turn,” you told him. “Undress for me.”

To you, Thor didn’t have a “best feature” when it came to his appearance. Every single feature about him was his best feature, and you wanted to see all of him.

Thor only glanced up at the door for a split second. He didn’t really even consider anything else before he was removing his shirt. Sure, someone could walk in, but this was a risk worth taking. His t-shirt hit the floor, soon joined by his pants.

You were completely, utterly, through-and-through, speechless. Neither of you had worn anything beneath your nighttime apparel, so you were both left entirely naked before one another in the dim light of Tony Stark’s barroom. Thor was everything you could have hoped for and more. You wanted to say something—honestly, you did—but when your eyes fell below his waist, not a single word came to mind. You were speechless, and now it was your turn for your mouth to hang open dumbly as you took in the sight before you.  

“Oh,” you managed at last. Simply oh.

“Is that a good ‘oh’?” Thor cocked an eyebrow at you.

You nodded, then managed to remember a few more words. “It’s good.”

Thor was grinning when he kissed you. You lowered your knee and allowed him to press his cock against you. The moan that left his body when he felt your wet entrance pressed against him was borderline animalistic. He used his hands to pull your legs open, his thumbs digging into the soft flesh of your thighs. The grin had left his face and he now looked ravenous, his eyes dark and hungry.

Though he began to kneel as if to bring his face to the heat between your legs, you caught him by the shoulder. You had no patience left. The burning want inside of you had been growing for months and you didn’t want to wait a single second more. “No, please,” you told him. “I don’t want to wait any more.”

Thor smiled again, but a different kind of smile this time: amused, almost cocky. He stood upright and pressed his cock to your entrance for the second time. “Wouldn’t it be fun if I made you wait some more though?”

“No!” you protested, your voice whinier than you liked. You tried to pull him in with your legs, but he tensed and held his position where he stood, teasing you, leaving you in almost agony.

“You’re lucky,” he said, and pressed the head inside of you. You gasped and arched your back. “I don’t want to wait any longer, either.”

With that, you were filled with his entire length. Your eyes rolled back and your mouth hung open and your nails dug into Thor’s shoulders. He neither hesitated nor gave you time to adjust before pulling the whole way out and forcing himself the whole way back in. This simply earned another cry from you. Then again, then again, then again…

“Fuck!” was the only word that came to mind, and you mewled it over and over again as Thor’s hips pounded against yours. You leaned back on the palms of your hands, barely managing to hold yourself upright as the God of Thunder relentlessly fucked you. The sounds that filled the room were nothing short of lewd; Thor’s labored breathing and occasional grunts, the wet sound where your bodies met over and over again, the cries and whines and curses that seemed to never stop coming.

Your legs were shaking. And your arms. Your head was spinning, and you realized you were nearing your limit so soon. Thor noticed, too.

“Do you like that?” Thor asked. The words mixed with his voice—words you thought you’d never hear from him anywhere other than your dreams—sent you reeling. He was apparently waiting for an answer, because he said, “Well, Y/N? Do you?”

“Yes,” you panted when you found your voice again at last. “I love it. Please don’t stop.”

He stopped.

You whined and grabbed for him. You’d been so close, it seemed cruel for him to have stopped.

He pulled you off of the counter and spun you around on your shaking, wobbly legs. Without missing a beat, Thor bent you over the bar and held you by the hip with one hand and shoulder by the other. You gasped at the feeling of your forearms and breasts against the cold countertop. That being said, you certainly weren’t about to object.

Then Thor was back at it again. He took you from behind, bent over the counter, mouth ajar, eyes rolled back. Your insides gripped at him as his cock slammed in and out of you over and over. Thor was panting harder now, you noticed, his movements harder and more erratic.

You could barely think straight, yet you somehow found yourself throwing your hips back against his, rising to meet his movements. Thor could only moan. He seemed to be every bit as lost in the moment as you were.

He moved his hand that was on your hip around to your front, finding your clit and rubbing hard. “Come on,” he urged you. “Come for me.”

You gritted your teeth, your hands clenched to fists on the countertop, your toes curled. You took it all in at once: the way he rubbed your clit almost too hard in circles, the way you could feel his cock stretching you out and filling you up. His movements. His voice. Him.

Your body convulsed as if to follow Thor’s command. You would have cried out if you had been capable of producing any sound, but instead your mind and body were numb with ecstasy, devoid of any feeling other than the intense pleasure wracking your body. Instead you just grabbed at the counter and threw your head back and allowed your muscles to tense beyond belief as you came undone.

That was almost the breaking point for Thor. Almost. He paused for a moment, and at first you thought he may be stopping since you had finished. You were going to object, but he turned you around to face him once again. He didn’t put you up on the counter this time, though. Rather, he pulled one of your legs up around him and left you standing on the other.

Thor’s lips were on yours again, then, and he was back inside of you. He held your body, flushed with color and glistening with sweat, up against his. Your breasts pressed against his chest and you appreciated how solid he felt, barely managing to hold yourself up as you came down from your high.

Thor, on the other hand, was just reaching his. He grunted and you felt his body tense. The movement of his hips became more erratic, then slowed, then finally slammed to a stop as he held himself inside of you and released.

He was incredible. Everything about him was incredible.

When he was able to move again at last, he rested his hands on the counter behind you and placed his forehead against yours, panting. He kissed you, and there was something both wholesome and endearing about how gently he kissed you after laying waste to your body moments before.

He brushed your hair away from your face and smiled. “You don’t look so well, Y/N,” he said, and he was grinning. “You look tired.”

“Do I?” Your breathing was steadying and you vaguely remembered how to banter again. “I wonder why.”

“Who’s to say?” he asked, handing you your robe again. “But it’s late at night, and you never know who’s up and about.”

“Oh yeah?”

Thor pulled his shirt back over his head. He nodded. “Yeah. And you’re wearing nothing but a robe. Perhaps I should walk you back to your room, lest anyone find you and get the wrong idea.”

But you were on a mission today, and the mission wasn’t to listen to Tony ramble about his latest toy, nor to shower him with validation. Your mission was to get a rise out of the Star-Spangled Man himself. The two of you had been hitting it off lately; really, really hitting it off. Your time spent with Steve had been full of glances that lasted just a little too long, brushes of the skin that were just a little too light, and playful smiles that were just a little too playful. Dare you say the honorable, upright Steve Rogers had been flirting with you?

He knew how to fluster you, that much was certain. He would catch you off guard with surprisingly sly comments, and suddenly you’d be at a loss for words, and then he’d have the upper hand. It seemed he always had the upper hand when it came to the two of you.

Not now, not today. No more upper hand for Mister Rogers. You’d taken it upon yourself to have a little photoshoot, just for a bit of fun. Well—a lot of fun. And it wasn’t just any photoshoot, it was an Americana photoshoot. A pinup Americana photoshoot.

Your heels clicked on the floor rhythmically as you made your appearance in the meeting room, smooth white envelope pressed to your chest as you walked. No sooner had the door clicked shut behind you than it opened again, and Bruce followed you in.

Tony looked up when the two of you entered. “Bruce. Y/N.” He regarded you over the top of his glasses. “Glad you showed up.”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” you said with a comically saccharine smile. Tony rolled his eyes. Steve, on the other hand, was already looking you up and down over his shoulder, eyes drifting from your head to your heels. You noticed, of course, and directed your smile at Steve. “Here are the notes you asked for.” You held the envelope out and placed it directly in his hands. Steve looked confused but said nothing, his brow furrowed as he obviously wracked his mind for what he’d asked for.

You left his side to take your own seat across the table from him. As you were pulling out your chair, Steve was pulling out the pictures.

“Y/N! How have you been?” Thor beamed at you, positively radiating golden retriever energy.

You couldn’t help but smile back. “I’ve been feeling great, actually. How about you?”

“Same as always,” said Thor.

That’s when you turned your attention back to Steve, just in time to see him catch a glimpse of the first photo. It took him a second, as if he wasn’t fully understanding what he was looking at.

Wait for it…

Wait for it…

Steve’s eyes went wide. His jaw visibly clenched. His eyebrows arched on his forehead.

And you smiled.

“How about you, Steve?” you leaned forward on the table. “What’s up with you?”

Steve was a deer in the headlights. He looked from you to the pictures to you again, then back to the pictures one more time. He shuffled them in his hands, moving to the next one. He blinked. He stared. Most of all, you watched the way he shifted in his seat. Steve’s skin was flushed as he shifted, subtly adjusting himself. He uncrossed his legs and cleared his throat without looking up from the neat little stack of photos in his hand.

“You okay Rogers?” Thor spoke up, noticing something was off with the man across the table from him.

“Fine—” Steve said quickly. “I’m fine. I’ve been doing well.” He looked at you, maintaining eye contact as he shuffled to the next picture. When he looked down at last, his eyes widened again.

Clint leaned towards Cap in his seat, craning his head. “What do you have there?”

Steve flicked the photos face-down, obscuring them from Clint’s view. You watched with delight as he struggled for words. He failed to come up with a valid response, though, and ended up simply saying, “Nothing. It’s personal.”

Clint made a face, and you realized (much to your amusement) that everyone in the room was looking at Steve. He pressed his tongue to the inside of his cheek and looked back over at you.

Why not push it further? “You feeling okay?” You cocked your head at him, feigning concern. “You don’t look well.”

“Just a little warm is all. Thank you.” Steve shifted again, but now his eyes were on fire, his gaze smoldering when he looked at you. God, how you liked that look! Despite the fact he had never been anything other than polite and proper and kind with you (if not a little coy), you could tell now that you’d struck a nerve in the best way possible. He was the one who was flustered now. Flustered and aroused and surprised he’d been so caught off guard. He was undressing you with his eyes, jaw clenched, eyes dark and focused on you and you alone.

“You’re being weird,” said Tony. “Weirder than usual.”

“Aren’t we here for a meeting or something?” Steve placed the envelope on the table and found himself unable to resist another glance over at you.

It was clear on Tony’s face that he was debating pressing the issue with Steve, but ultimately decided against it. He had a new toy to show off, after all; best not waste any more time.

Steve lifted the pictures again and dared to look. He flipped through them slowly as Tony spoke, occasionally faking attention to what Tony was saying. He threw you glances that made your stomach turn. Though he had started out alarmed, he grew pleasantly surprised, then his eyes were full of lust. Steve wanted you; he told you so with his eyes, with the subtle lick of his lips.

The meeting commenced, though if someone had asked you what the meeting was about, you wouldn’t have been able to recall.

All you could remember was Steve’s eyes on you.

______

It had, indeed, been a boring meeting, and nothing of interest had come up. Tony had asked Bruce and Steve to stay behind afterward, and you couldn’t help but feel a disappointed pang that a bit of your fun had been spoiled, not being able to leave the room with Steve and make sly small talk. You wanted so desperately to toy with him. Though you’d considered waiting outside the meeting room for Steve, you didn’t feel like loitering about and running the risk of getting roped into conversation with anyone else at the moment.

So you made the walk back to your quarters alone. The click of your heels echoed behind you as you walked. The building felt weirdly empty today, and you found yourself entirely alone. Everyone else had scattered. You thought of Steve. You thought of the way he’d looked at you, the way his eyes seemed dark and hungry, like he was the Big Bad Wolf, like he wanted nothing more than to eat you up. You thought of the way he’d so obviously adjusted himself, aroused at the sight of you dressed up just for him. You thought of what he might do with those pictures later when no one was around and it was just him alone with his thoughts and some photos of you. You thought he might—

You weren’t alone anymore. There was someone in the hall with you. You reeled around to find Steve not even inches behind you, your breath hitching in your throat when you found yourself all but face to face with him.

“Steve, I—”

“Are you going to your room?” He looked down at you with the same hungry eyes he’d watched you with in the meeting room not fifteen minutes ago. You glanced him up and down quickly, noticing he held the envelope you’d given him in one hand.  

“I—” you suddenly stumbled for words. You were supposed to have the upper hand now, not him. Then again, you hadn’t anticipated his reaction. You’d expected a blush from the sweet red, white, and blue captain, not this.

Not that you were complaining. This was good too.

“I am,” you said at last.

Steve gave a half nod and chewed on his lip for a moment. “How about I walk you there?”

Your heart skipped a beat. “That would be nice,” you admitted after a moment’s hesitation. He’d never offered to do anything remotely close to the sort.

Steve motioned ahead of you and you turned back around with a polite nod. Together, you two started the walk back to your quarters, side by side and close enough to touch. His presence at your side felt like electricity on your skin. You realized your hair was standing on end, and yet, you smiled to yourself. This was, without a doubt, a direct result of the pictures you’d so kindly packaged up and presented him. If not, neither of you would be here now. Your photoshoot had done its anticipated job and more. So, so much more.

“What did you think of the meeting?” you asked at last to break the silence.

Steve snorted. “There was a meeting? I wasn’t aware.”

“Distracted?”

“Terribly.” He glanced sidelong over at you. His gaze seemed to burn to your very core, and you realized this may have been the longest walk of your entire life.

When you finally reached your door, you stopped and turned to him. “Thank you for walking with me,” you said politely. “I appreciate it.”

Steve returned your mannerisms with a polite smile. Then, he leaned in close. “Invite me in.” His breath was warm on your neck, his lips barely an inch away from your ear.

Your heart pounded wildly against your chest and suddenly the air was suffocating you, choking you as your breath left you all at once. “Would you like to come in?”

“I would,” Steve answered. When he pulled away from your ear, he was still smiling.

It was all a blur—fumbling for your keycard, unlocking the door, stumbling into your room with shaking hands and shaking legs, Steve stepping in behind you, the door finally shutting. It was dark in your room, the only light coming from the setting sun outside your window.

“Would you like anything to—”

Your words were cut short as you found yourself pinned against the door. Steve’s arms were on either side of you, his palms flat against the wall, his face inches from yours as he stared you down.

“Is this what you want, Y/N?” His voice, low and deep, made you shudder. You were already aching with want, and this set you over the edge.

“More than anything,” you said back.

His lips were on yours, hard, passionate, and full of the same desperate desire that you felt roiling inside of you. Your hands found his chest. You pawed at him frantically, grabbing him by the shirt, feeling the solid muscle beneath. He forced his tongue into your mouth and pressed his body closer to yours, earning a small moan from you. You could feel him smirk into the kiss at the sound you made, but you didn’t care. This was everything you’d wanted and dreamed of for so long. He was everything you’d wanted and dreamed of for so long.

He pulled his hands from the door and let them drop to your waist instead. As they slowly began to creep around to your backside, he pulled away long enough to murmur, “Is this okay with you?”

You nodded. As much as you wanted him to shut up and kiss you, to never stop kissing you, you appreciated him checking nonetheless. And just like that, he resumed kissing you, now with the added bonus of his hands exploring your body. You pressed your body flush to his. Your stomach flipped and the heat pulsed in your core when you felt a solid bulge against your thigh. It was Steve’s turn to groan now. You pressed your pelvis against him harder, tantalizing him with the added pressure.

You had, it seemed, pushed him to his limits, because he picked you up in his arms. The motion was effortless as he lifted you above him, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist. He carried you to your bed and laid you back before climbing on top of you. Steve kissed your lips again, then your neck, then your collarbones, then you were whining and writhing beneath him, physically aching for more.

You were less patient than Steve, as it turned out. You could only take so much. Your hands grabbed for his t-shirt, which he allowed you to tug at. Steve broke away from kissing you for a moment to assist you in lifting his shirt over his head. Your eyes went wide and your jaw went slack when you saw him in all his shirtless glory, towering above you. You only had a brief moment to marvel over him, however, as he was soon pulling off your shirt, as well. In a frantic tussle driven by nothing more than sheer lust for one another, you were soon working the buttons and zippers of your pants and kicking them away unceremoniously.

Then it was his turn to stare. You could see the way he was devouring you with his eyes, drinking in every last inch of your body beneath him, starting with your lips and working down, down, down…over your chest, trailing past your stomach, finally lingering on the small bit of skin that remained covered by your lingerie. Your eyes did the same with him, silently admiring his well-toned body and every inch of muscle, falling to the last part of him that was still hidden from sight. You bit your lip at the sight of his erection pulling so hard against the thin fabric of his briefs.

“Is this what you wanted?” he asked at last when he noticed your eyes fixated below the belt. “Was this your goal?”

It took all the willpower you could possibly muster to tear your eyes away and look up at his face again. “It is,” you admitted. “Maybe you’re too predictable.” You couldn’t help but smirk when you said it, knowing it would get a rise out of him. It worked.

“Predictable?” Steve grabbed both your wrists, suddenly pinning your arms above your head. The motion made you gasp.

Alright, maybe he wasn’t as predictable as you thought.

He used one hand to pin your wrists together while the other hand slid down your body, lower and lower and lower still, until his fingers were pressed between your legs. Even the lightest touch was enough to cause you to arch your back. You were so sensitive, aching and dripping wet and burning for his touch, for his body, for him to do anything at all to you. He rubbed his fingers lightly against you through the sheer fabric of your panties.

“I’d watch what you say, little lady.” Steve slipped his fingers beneath the fabric, brushing against your wet core.

“Fuck!” you snapped. You tried to push your hips up against his hand for more contact, but it was pointless.

“Language,” he reminded you. “Or do you not want me to continue?”

You stared up at him. Words—any words at all—failed to come to mind. All you could do was nod dumbly and hope he would give in.

He did give in. He pushed one finger inside of you and your eyes rolled back in your head. He stroked at your insides, obviously loving the way you moved beneath him, the way you grinded your hips against his hand.

You failed to come up with any words that weren’t a curse, so all you managed to moan was “Steve” over and over again. He peppered your neck and chest with soft kisses and subtle bites, working his fingers—first one, then two—in and out of you rhythmically.

“Is this what was going through your mind when you took those pictures?” he all but growled in your ear.

You nodded in response, words finally coming to you. “It’s what’s always going through my mind.”

With that, Steve pulled his fingers from inside of you abruptly, rocking back on his knees and moving away from you. You couldn’t help but cry out at the sudden loss of…well, everything. “Go on,” he commanded, “undress for me.”

You obeyed. Slowly, deliberately, you began to take off the scant bit of clothing you had left. Steve stroked himself with one hand as he watched you. You unhooked your bra from behind your back, clutching it to your chest with one hand and letting the straps fall from your shoulders. You carefully teased him, gently removing your hand from your chest and allowing your bra to fall away, revealing your breasts to him at last. Steve reached out with his free hand and pulled it away before tossing it aside, leaving your upper half bare before him.

Now it was Steve who failed to come up with words. Instead, he chose to run one hand along your breast, feeling your delicate skin, your hard nipples, basking in the silent heat of the moment.

You lifted your butt slightly from the bed as you worked your panties down your body. As before, this moment was done slowly, dragging out his anticipation. Steve continued stroking himself as you stripped completely for him. You crossed one leg over the other and pulled your panties to your ankle, letting them dangle there in front of him. Steve took those from you as well and looked you in the eye as he tossed them aside.  

Then, all at once he was on top of you again. His kissed you roughly and passionately, almost forcefully, as he lined himself up with your entrance. Your whole body tensed. You could feel him pressing against you, rock hard as he teased you further. Steve moved his hips ever so slightly, causing the head to rub against your most sensitive areas and sending waves of unbridled pleasure through your entire body. Judging by the look on his face, he knew exactly what he was doing.

You cried out in frustration, trying your damndest not to curse at him, not to swear and beg and claw him in the shoulders. But the teasing persisted, Steve dragging out the moment. He continued to rub against you, fully aware of the effect he was having on you.

It was up to you to take control. With no warning, you wrapped one leg around the back of his thighs and pulled him against you, your hips rising up to meet his. Just like that, he was inside of you. Now it was you who smirked.

Steve, on the other hand, let out an unexpected gasp and buried his face in your neck. His whole body went completely tense as he collected himself. You could feel his cock throbbing inside of you at the sudden movement, buried hilt-deep. When his breathing steadied again, Steve lifted his head to look at you, and all you could do was smirk back. He propped himself up by his elbows on either side of you, beginning to work his hips back and forth at long last.

You couldn’t help it when your eyes rolled back and your mouth hung open. You couldn’t help the way your nails raked at his back, and you couldn’t help the way your thighs squeezed at his sides. He just felt so damn perfect filling you up and stretching you out. Steve’s hips slammed rhythmically at yours, and even he couldn’t bite back the lewd moans.

“That’s my girl,” he groaned, loving how desperate you were for him. He picked up the pace, slamming into you harder and harder. Steve pulled the whole way out, then forced himself the whole way back in. You shook and mewled beneath him. You couldn’t believe how little effort it had taken him as you began to tremble and felt the pleasure build up inside of you and bring you to your breaking point. You held on, your chest pressed to his, gasping and panting and matching your hips to his thrusts.

“Steve, I’m—oh my god—Fuck—I mean—” A coherent sentence wouldn’t come to mind. You, on the other hand, came just fine. You buried your face against his neck and enjoyed the feeling of your entire body tensing, twitching, and throbbing as you came undone at Steve’s doing.

Steve threw his head back and moaned at the way you felt as you came against him, your walls clenching around his thick cock. It was his turn, and even in your haze you appreciated the way he ground his teeth and clenched his jaw, the way his thrusts became erratic. His whole body jerked violently as he released inside of you, filling you with his heat, until at last he lowered himself on top of you and held himself there, panting.

You absently rubbed his back with one hand as you both slowly, so slowly, came back to your senses. Steve pushed off with one arm and fell onto the bed beside you. You both laid there on your backs, tired and weak, with only the sound of both of your heavy breathing filling the room.

Then you laughed.

You clapped one hand to your mouth and giggled. Steve couldn’t help but laugh, too, brushing one hand through his hair and looking over at you. “What’s so funny?” he asked at last.

“I—” you had to stop to stifle a laugh. “I guess you liked the pictures then?”

“More than you know.” He kissed you again, this time more softly. Then, much to your surprise, his hands were roaming your body. He smiled into the kiss.

“Um? Can I help you, Mr. Rogers?” you teased.