FanFictionaries

Pairing: Steve Rogers x female reader

Summary: In public, Steve Rogers is the perfect gentleman. In private, well that's a different story.

Warning: Explicit smut (MDNI), p in v, dominant Steve Rogers, dirty talk, unprotected sex, no use of Y/n, lots of pet names (Stevie, babygirl, sweetheart, good girl).

A/n: This is honestly the first smut imagine I've written in 4(Ish) years, so hopefully I did this justice. If you liked this and want to see more, request a prompt. Figured that after doing two sadder Bucky ones, I would try my hand at this.

Masterlist

you straddle megumi's thigh, the firm muscle pressing up against your core as you start to rock your hips. his dark eyes flick toward you for a split second before he looks away, leaning back against the headboard with that signature stoic expression. it's like he's pretending this isn't happening, like your grinding doesn't faze him at all. but you feel the subtle flex of his leg beneath you, pushing just enough to make your clit throb with each slide.

"keep going," he mutters under his breath, his voice low and even, as if he's commenting on the weather. his hand rests casually on his lap, but you notice the way his fingers twitch, inching toward the growing bulge in his gray sweats. you pick up the pace, your pussy soaking through your panties, the friction building heat that makes your breath hitch.

he doesn't smile or encourage you with touches—nothing like that. instead, he tilts his head slightly, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. "you're dripping all over me already. bet you want to cum just from humping my leg like a desperate slut." the words are whispered so quietly, almost bored, but they hit you like a spark, making your walls clench around nothing. you grind harder, chasing the pressure, your hands gripping his shoulders for leverage.

megumi's free hand comes up to adjust his position, but really, it's to palm himself through the fabric. his palm rubs slow circles over the outline of his cock, the material stretching taut as he hardens fully. a soft pant escapes him, syncing with your own ragged breaths. he doesn't acknowledge it, doesn't make a show of it—just keeps stroking lazily, the heat from his hand radiating through the sweats.

"that's it," he breathes out, his tone flat but his words filthy. "ride me harder. show me how bad you need it. your pussy's probably aching to be filled, huh? but you won't get my cock until you soak my thigh first." his whispering grows a fraction hotter, his lips grazing your earlobe, sending shivers down your spine. you moan softly, your hips rolling faster, the slick sounds of your arousal filling the quiet room.

his panting picks up, matching your rhythm—short, controlled bursts that betray how turned on he is. his hand presses firmer against his bulge now, rubbing up and down the length, the tip leaking enough to darken a spot on the sweats. you can feel yourself getting closer, the coil tightening in your belly as his thigh muscles tense, giving you that perfect ridge to grind against.

when your movements turn erratic, your breaths coming in gasps, megumi finally shifts. without a word, he hooks his thumb into the waistband of his sweats and shoves them down just enough. his cock springs free, thick and veined, the head already glistening with precum. he wraps his hand around the base, stroking himself in firm, deliberate pumps, his eyes locked on where your pussy rubs against him.

"cum for me," he whispers, voice still indifferent but laced with that dirty edge. "watch me jerk this cock while you fall apart on my leg." his fist moves faster, slick sounds joining yours, his pants turning into low groans. the sight of him—hand flying over his shaft, thumb swiping over the slit—pushes you over the edge. your orgasm crashes through you, pussy pulsing as you drench his thigh, body shuddering against him.

megumi’s fucking relentless when he wants to be.

you didn’t expect it—not from him. cool, quiet, closed-off. the kind of guy who mumbles through compliments, blushes if you so much as kiss his neck. but now? now he’s behind you on the bed, hands tight on your hips, chest damp with sweat, cock driving into your cunt at angles so precise it’s like he’s mapping you out with surgical intent.

except he hasn’t hit it yet.

he’s trying.

you can feel it in the way he keeps adjusting—sliding one knee forward, shifting your legs apart, reaching up to cup your tit while his other hand angles your hips higher. every thrust is different. measured. focused. calculated. he’s testing your body like a theory, chasing something he knows is there.

but you’re dazed.

whimpering, breathless, soaked and shaking, confused as fuck because every time you think he’s found it—fuck—he misses by a hair. it’s so close. the pleasure is blinding, but something inside is pulsing, begging, like a button he just hasn’t pushed yet.

he groans low behind you, voice hoarse and frustrated. “it’s in here,” he pants, like he’s talking to himself more than you. “i know it is—fuck, why can’t i—”

you mewl his name, back arching, your hands clawing at the sheets. “m-megumi, what—what’re you—f-fuck—”

“trying something,” he growls, and then—

then he grabs your hips, strong and firm, and lifts them slightly, angling your ass higher, tipping your pelvis up, bringing your cunt closer to him, tighter. he shifts forward, sinks deeper—

and hits it.

“fuck—!”

you scream. not a cute moan. not a gasp. a full-bodied, throat-shredding scream as your body convulses. your hands slap the mattress. your legs kick. your mouth falls open with a sob as something detonates inside you, pressure exploding.

then you squirt.

not a little trickle. not some delicate drip.

it gushes—loud, wet, uncontrollable—as megumi’s cock hits your g-spot dead-on and stays there, grinding into it while his grip on your hips keeps you locked in place.

his eyes widen, blown black, and he chokes out a groan that sounds like it’s dragged from the bottom of his lungs. “holy fuck—” his cock twitches hard inside you. “you—fucking squirted—”

you can’t speak. your voice is gone. your entire body is shaking, twitching under him, cunt spasming uncontrollably around his cock as slick pours out of you, soaking his thighs, the bed, everything.

“shit,” he pants, hips slamming forward again—same angle, same brutal grind—and you scream again, body lurching, nails digging into the mattress.

“you like that?” he hisses, his rhythm suddenly unhinged, frantic, chasing that spot with every thrust now. “that’s it, right there—fuck, i found it—look at you, fucking soaking me—”

“c-can’t—too much—megumi—!”

he doesn’t stop. not when you gush again, not when you sob and scream, not even when your legs shake like they might give out from under you. he holds you up, keeps that perfect angle, pounds your g-spot like it’s his fucking mission.

“you’re gonna cum like this,” he growls. “you’re gonna squirt all over me again. i want it. need it. give it to me.”

you break.

“g-gumi, i can’t—ahhh, f-fuck—” you choke, clinging to his shoulders, nails digging into sweat-slick skin. his messy black hair sticks to his forehead, strands falling into his dark, glassy eyes as he looks down at you. his chest heaves, his breathing rough, but his voice stays steady, soft even while he’s fucking you into the mattress. “you can. i know you can, baby.” his tone is low, coaxing, and it only makes your pussy clench tighter around him.

he grits his teeth, hips snapping hard, faster, the sound of skin slapping filling the room. “shit—you feel so good. so fucking good every time,” he groans, voice breaking as your cunt squeezes around him.

you cry out, head thrown back, moans spilling shamelessly—loud, messy, uncontrollable. “aauughhh... too fast—please—! oh my god, gumi, i—i can’t stop—” your thighs shake violently, your whole body twitching as another orgasm claws through you.

he doesn’t slow down. if anything, the way your walls flutter around him makes him pound into you harder, his weight pressing you deep into the sheets. “fuck, that’s it… give it to me again. you’re so good for me,” he whispers against your mouth, kissing you sloppy, swallowing the choked whimpers that keep spilling out.

you try to push weakly at his shoulders, overstimulation hitting so hard your legs spasm uncontrollably. “s-too much, it’s too much—” megumi catches your wrists, pinning them above your head with one hand while his other grips your thigh, holding you open for him. his eyes stay locked on your tear-streaked face, lips parted, breath hot as he fucks you rough and relentless. “i know, baby. i know it’s a lot,” he pants, voice strained. “just one more. let me have one more.”

his words shatter you, and all you can do is sob his name over and over, brain melting from the pace, from the way his cock rams into the same spot so deep it makes you scream. “ahhh—! g-gumi—fuck, i’m—i’m cumming again—!”

he lets out a guttural groan, hips stuttering but never stopping, pressing sloppy kisses to your cheek and jaw as your body convulses under him. “good girl… fuck—you’re perfect. my perfect girl.” your moans echo through the room, loud and broken, mixing with the wet, filthy sounds of him dragging in and out of your creamy and throbbing pussy until you’re left babbling, crying, nothing but a dumb mess on his cock—exactly how he wants you.

when he finally stills, his chest heaving against yours, megumi presses a soft kiss to your temple, voice quiet and ragged. “sorry… i was too rough.”

“shhh, baby, you can take it,” he coos, mixing the gentleness of his words to the deep grind of his hips. he groans, lstuttering as another thick pulse floods into you. “gonna fill you up ‘til you’re full with it. ‘til my cum’s all you can feel.”

you feel it. an impossible overflow, trickling out from where you’re joined despite how tightly you clutch around him. it felt endless.

“look at that,” he rasps, wrecked with pleasure as he finally stills, buried to the hilt. he pulls out just enough to let you both see the obscene, creamy rush that follows his cock. “christ, sweetheart. made a mess of you. you’re leakin’ all my cum already.”

We love all things self-indulgent here! In fact, I think pretty much all fan fiction is self-indulgent to a certain extent. 

Thank you so much for being my first request. I absolutely LOVE jealous Steve. I hope you like this!

Idk, why but I guess I have a thing for hot sex in alleyways behind bars? 

Say You’re Mine 

Pairing: Steve Rogers x female reader

Request: Jealous Steve Rogers 

Words: 2.3k

Warnings: Swearing, Smut, NSFW 18+ only 

Author’s Note: I loved doing this, so please people. Send me more requests! 

*** 

“If you stare any harder, you’re going to give yourself a stroke man,” said Bucky with a laugh as he took a swig of his beer.

“What?” responded Steve absentmindedly, never taking his eyes away from you and the bartender who was currently flirting up a storm.

Bucky laughed again, this time clapping a hand on his best friend’s shoulder and shaking him a little, “Y/N. Stop staring at her like that. It’s getting creepy. And sad.”

“I wasn’t staring at her. I was just…thinking about something,” said Steve sheepishly, taking a sip of his beer. Of course, the alcohol did nothing for him, but there was something so normal about having a beer with his friends.

“Sure—” Bucky rolled his eyes, “—you just need to tell her how you feel man. If that’s your girl, then you need to stop moping after her like a kicked puppy and take charge. Walk over there! You’re Captain America for Christ’s sake!”

Steve let the words stew in his brain as he sipped his beer and continued to stare at you, laughing and smiling at the greasy bartender in front of you. You were way too good for that guy. A dame like you, you deserved the best you could possibly get. You deserved someone who’d cherish you. Someone who’d treat you the way you deserved to be treated. Not this lousy son of a bitch that kept stealing glances down Wanda’s shirt every time you looked away. No. You deserved someone like…him.

We love all things self-indulgent here! In fact, I think pretty much all fan fiction is self-indulgent to a certain extent. 

Thank you so much for being my first request. I absolutely LOVE jealous Steve. I hope you like this!

Idk, why but I guess I have a thing for hot sex in alleyways behind bars? 

Say You’re Mine 

Pairing: Steve Rogers x female reader

Request: Jealous Steve Rogers 

Words: 2.3k

Warnings: Swearing, Smut, NSFW 18+ only 

Author’s Note: I loved doing this, so please people. Send me more requests! 

*** 

“If you stare any harder, you’re going to give yourself a stroke man,” said Bucky with a laugh as he took a swig of his beer.

“What?” responded Steve absentmindedly, never taking his eyes away from you and the bartender who was currently flirting up a storm.

Bucky laughed again, this time clapping a hand on his best friend’s shoulder and shaking him a little, “Y/N. Stop staring at her like that. It’s getting creepy. And sad.”

“I wasn’t staring at her. I was just…thinking about something,” said Steve sheepishly, taking a sip of his beer. Of course, the alcohol did nothing for him, but there was something so normal about having a beer with his friends.

“Sure—” Bucky rolled his eyes, “—you just need to tell her how you feel man. If that’s your girl, then you need to stop moping after her like a kicked puppy and take charge. Walk over there! You’re Captain America for Christ’s sake!”

Steve let the words stew in his brain as he sipped his beer and continued to stare at you, laughing and smiling at the greasy bartender in front of you. You were way too good for that guy. A dame like you, you deserved the best you could possibly get. You deserved someone who’d cherish you. Someone who’d treat you the way you deserved to be treated. Not this lousy son of a bitch that kept stealing glances down Wanda’s shirt every time you looked away. No. You deserved someone like…him.

I-

Summary: You’re a post-quantum computing scientist who is on the brink of success when your ex-boyfriend slams you in the press. It’s a media frenzy of epic proportions - one you and your new boss, Tony Stark, plan to combat with a little good press. Will a couple of highly-visible dates with Captain America clear your name in the court of public opinion? 

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Warnings: language, alcohol, smut

Author’s Note: Who’s into a little fake dating? A trope I’ve always loved to read, but have never written, this series will begin posting on Monday, January 17th.

Prompt: “I do everything for a reason. Most of the time the reason is money.” – Ava Gardner

Pairing: Bucky Barnes X Original Female Character

Summary: Brenna Wright was not a good person and the blue-eyed stranger that brought old memories to the surface of her mind? Well he was just a job. 

Words: 5.3k

Warnings: Swearing, smut, dark, NSFW/18+ only

Author’s Note: Thank you to @darkficsyouneveraskedfor​ for this lovely challenge and the opportunity for me to explore a darker side of my writing! Also thank you to @justareader​ for checking over my French (I’m a little rusty)! 

I loved writing this and honestly think Brenna might have to be a reoccurring character/this fic might need a part two…Enjoy!

***

Brenna Wright was not a good person. Anyone who thought otherwise was either unfortunately ignorant or foolishly optimistic.

Things that would stop others in their tracks, were as simple as picking out furniture or ordering food at a restaurant for her. It was never a question of whether she should or should not – only the dilemma of who, what and how much. Sure, she had her limits. Every woman did. The only difference being, the limits of most were trivial aspects of pride, egoism, and disillusioned self-respect. Hers were simple – no children and no animals. Therefore, everything else was up for grabs. Theft. Arson. Intimidation. Kidnapping. Torture. Murder. And her personal specialty – bounty. For the right price of course. She wasn’t an idiot. And she sure as hell wasn’t cheap.

Good guys. Bad guys. She’d worked for them all. From those of renowned self-importance all the way down to the lowest of nobodies. She couldn’t care less. As long as she got paid, she did her job. No questions asked.