#angry!steve

“I mean seriously! How reckless can one person be? I gave you orders and it is not a personal choice wether or not you follow them. You do. You do because I am in charge. I make the calls.” Steve yelled, his rant going on for nearly fifteen minutes now.

You had heard enough. “Are you done?” You snapped, silencing Steve. He turned in his chair to look at you, your body curled into the passenger chair.

“No. No, I’m not done, actually. You could’ve gotten yourself killed, Y/n! From now on you don’t take orders from Tony, or anyone else for that matter if they’re not the one leading the mission. Is that understood?” His jaw was tight and his eyes narrow, locked on your heated face.

You hated when he went all Captain on you like this, shouting at you like you were just another member of the team and not his girlfriend for fucks sake. It’s one of the reasons you never liked going on duo missions with him anymore.

“I asked you a question, Y/n. Answer me.” His voice was dark. He wasn’t playing around.

“I understand.”

“Look at my face when you speak to me.” He ordered, earning an eye roll from you.

You turned to face him, legs planted firm on the ground. Your eyes were just as cold as his. “I said I understand, Captain.” You spat, quickly moving to your prior position on your chair before he could say something else.

“Can’t wait to add ‘unable to follow orders’ on the ever-growing list…” You mumbled into your palm. You didn’t intend on Steve hearing you, but of course he did anyway.

“What did you just say?” He asked, looking at the sky ahead.

You huffed. “It was a fucking joke, Steve.”

He shook his head, pressing a few buttons on the glowing panel in front of him. “No, say it again. What list?”

God, he was relentless. You buried your head in your hand, refusing to answer. Steve could never let things go.

“Are you serious right now, Y/n? What fucking list are you-”

“Oh my god, Steve! I’m talking about the list of shit I hate about myself! You know- how I can’t follow orders, I’m ignorant, bitchy, I complain too much, I’m impulsive-” You yelled, counting the traits on your fingers for dramatic affect, “and that’s only my personality, don’t even get me started on the shit I hate about my body.” The words flew out faster than you could catch them, not meaning to say aloud that last part. You slumped in your seat, chest huffing and face hot with an annoyed pout on your lips.

Steve was pissed now, his knuckles burning white from his death grip on the steering controls. “For the sake of keeping the jet in tact, I’m going to pretend like you didn’t just say that. I don’t want to hear another word from you until we get back, is that clear?”

Dread filled you, burning the contents of your veins. “Crystal.”

———

The rest of the jet ride was short, thankfully, and entirely too silent until you returned to the compound.

As soon as you stepped off the landing platform Steve was on your tail. You were ahead of him by quite a few yards, wanting nothing more than to just get to your room so you could sleep this whole disastrous mission off. Luckily, Steve stopped behind you when Tony turned the corner, taking a quick breath before he started laying into him, reprimanding him for giving you orders. You passed Tony, handing him the flash drive with a quiet apology before heading to your room.

Steve’s words were drowned out as soon as you shut your door, immediately shedding your dirty tactile suit and boots in the dark. You tossed them in the corner, missing the hamper by a good foot, and turned on your lamp before moving to the bathroom.

His words crept their way back in your head as you turned the shower on, a thick cloud of steam quickly filling the room. You turned to face the mirror, grimacing at the state of your body.

You had dirt and blood splattered all around your skin, a few already scabbing cuts from the fight finding a home on your arms and stomach.

A sigh left you as you grabbed for your comb, doing your best to untangle the knots in your hair. You didn’t care about being gentle. Anger still boiled in you, making you even more sick at your reflection.

You took a deep breath as you entered the shower, trying to calm down before you had to face Steve again. The water was scalding, simultaneously rinsing away the filth that covered you and the words that taunted you. You crouched down, sitting on the shower floor and wrapping your arms over your legs. You were exhausted, that’s for sure.

With your head settled between your bent knees you didn’t hear the bathroom door open. Nor did you hear Steve undressing. You only noticed his presence when the sliding glass shower door opened, not bothering to look up and see him getting in behind you.

Taking a shower together was your post-mission ritual. Normally they were taken under better conditions, but they were never skipped.

Steve bent down behind you, draping his arms around your entire frame and planting kisses to the side of your head. “I shouldn’t have yelled at you like that, sweetheart. I was upset, but should have waited until I was calm before I talked to you. I know now that you were just trying to do a favor for Tony.” He moved the the back of your neck, trailing light pecks over it and across your shoulders.

“I was just scared. That flash drive nearly got my beautiful girl killed. The thought of losing you over something so little is not ideal, and I won’t let it happen under my watch. Regardless, I didn’t need to scream at you. I’m sorry, Y/n.” Steve finished, setting his head on top of yours, still holding onto you under the stream of water.

Despite the crap that sometimes comes out of his mouth, Steve is a good communicator. He’ll tell you when he’s upset, angry, nervous, jealous. And he’s willing to admit when he’s wrong.

“Can I stand you up, pretty girl?” He asked, the words getting mumbled in your wet hair.

You nodded and he moved his hands, wrapping them over your upper arms to help you up. Once you were on your feet he turned you to face him, his face much softer than before as he looked at you.

“You okay? If you’re upset with me I can give you some space.” His hand smoothed over your cheek, rubbing the soft skin with his thumb.

You shook your head, words still failing you, and moved into his chest. You were mad, yes. But you understood where he was coming from.

You would yell at him the same if he made your mistakes too.

He held you tight, running his hand along your spine as the other cradled your head, his lips leaving wet kisses along your hairline. “I would like to talk about what you said, though.”

There it is.

You internally groaned, not wanting to explain to your boyfriend that sometimes you didn’t like who you are or what you looked like.

So what?

“Do we have to?” You whined, snuggling further into his chest.

“I just want to know why you have a list of things you dislike about yourself. You’re the most perfect person I know, sweetheart.”

You shrugged. “Don’t we all? And I’m not perfect. I’ve got attitude problems and cellulite. My arms are jiggly and I have more stretch marks now because I’ve gained ten pounds in the last few months. Ten!” You answered dramatically, keeping your eyes closed as Steve started to wash your body, the lavender scented soap not doing much to help you relax.

His hand gripped your chin. “Open your eyes and look at me, sweetheart.” He waited to speak again until you were staring at him. “None of that makes you any less perfect. Do you have any idea how beautiful I think you are?”

He waited for an answer.

All you could do was shrug. You knew he loved you, but you couldn’t bring yourself to see you through his eyes just yet.

Your lack of answer made his jaw twitch.

He didn’t say another word as he finished cleaning your body and moved on to washing your hair. He was gentle, massaging your scalp with your coconut shampoo before rinsing it away, following up with its matching conditioner.

Once you were all clean he finally spoke, putting a firm hand against the side of your face. “I want you to get out and dry off. Don’t get dressed. I’ll be out in a few minutes and I expect you to be on the bed, waiting patiently like the good girl you are. Understood?”

You nodded and his hand gripped harder on your face.

“Words.” He commanded.

“Yes.”

“Yes, what?”

Jesus Christ.

A familiar throb started humming at your core. Steve hardly acted like this, but when he did... you knew you were in for a long night. “Yes, Sir.” You answered, more awake and less angry than before.

He smiled and sent a pat on your ass. “Go.”

You did as you were told, slipping out of the shower and drying off, doing your best to squeeze the extra water from your hair before sitting in the center of the bed with your knees tucked under you. Your breathing was hard to control and your heart was fluttering behind your ribs. The waiting games always got you nervous, but you just sat there as patiently as possible as Steve finished his own shower, probably taking the time to plan out exactly what he wanted to do with you.

The turn of the shower faucet caught your attention, your heart rate climbing as you heard Steve get out and towel himself down. He must’ve wanted to torture you because he was taking his sweet time.

It was only a minute later when the bathroom door finally opened, a naked Steve walking out and walking to you incredibly slow. It didn’t help your cause that he already had an erection and it looked borderline painful as it hit against his abs with each step he took.

“See, my pretty girl knows exactly how to follow directions.” He leaned across the bed and kissed at your awaiting lips a few times before standing straight again. He held his hand out below your face.

“Spit.”

Your eyes widened at his demand, but you did it anyway, forming a pool of saliva in his outstretched palm.

You didn’t take your sight off of him as he circled around the bed, his gaze reminding you of how a predator looks just before they capture and devour their prey. When he turned and sat himself down on the chair in the corner, you got confused.

“What are you doing?” You asked, your voice quiet and sweet as you watched him, his legs spreading and his back settling down into the cushion.

His eyes never left yours once, talking again but ignoring your question. “Open your legs, pretty girl, I wanna see you touch yourself.”

You stopped breathing for a second. He noticed, a twitch of his smirk pulling at his lips. “Go on. Be a good girl and do as your told. Touch yourself.”

Unsure, you shifted toward the headboard, letting your back hit the pillows before your legs parted, exposing your wet cunt to Steve. He stared at you while he waited, his smirk growing as your fingers finally circled around your clit, a soft gasp pulling from your lips.

“Do you wanna know what I think about when I get myself off?” He started, his voice low and dark. 

Good God.

“Now- I don’t do it often, because nothing gets me off better than the hands and lips of my pretty girl- but on the off chance I’m on a mission that’s taking me away from you for more than a week… I can’t seem to help myself.” His left hand went behind his head, his right going around his other head, gripping it slowly before he started to pump. Your spit slicked him up, mixing with the beads of his precum to make the job easier.

“You’ll send me a picture of your gorgeous face, or-”, Steve stuttered, his hips bucking off the chair as he quickened his pace, “hell, if we can’t have contact I’ll bring one with me. Just one look at that face and body of yours gets me going, it gets me riled up to the point that I need to touch myself or it’ll hurt for the rest of the day.” He moaned, his head tilting back before slowing down. “Everything about you turns me on- gets me so hard. Your voice, your face, your body, your scent, your taste-” He panted, his chest rising and falling heavily as he went on. “I have no willpower when it comes to you, pretty baby. None at all.”

“Stevie, can I-” You started to ask, the coil deep in your stomach nearly about to snap. You were soaking wet, the lewd sounds of your fingers rolling over your clit filling the room.

“Don’t even think about it, sweetheart.” Steve knew exactly what you wanted, but he wasn’t ready to let you have it just yet.

You tried to listen to him- you really did, but his voice was so gravelly and you could smell his shampoo from your spot on the bed and it was driving you insane. Your fingers kept their pace, your head pushing into the pillows and your back arching ever so slightly off the bed. You were so close. You nearly had it before a large hand snapped around your wrist, pulling it away from your core and stopping your impending orgasm.

Your eyes fluttered open, a whine falling from you from the loss of contact. Steve hovered above you, his free arm digging into the mattress to keep his weight off of your body. He didn’t say anything as he looked into your eyes, his breath trailing over your collarbones and chin.

Steve slowly brought your glistening fingers to his mouth, sucking off your arousal until they were clean. His pupils were huge, only a sliver of his pretty blues showing underneath the darkness that overtook them. You felt his cock twitch against your stomach, a drop of precum landing on your skin.

His free arm tucked under your back, hoisting you up as he sat on the bed. He guided you to his lap, your core landing on his bare skin and your breasts bouncing from the movement. His eyes lingered on them for far too long, silence settling between you.

Most people would assume Steve Rogers is an ass man, and he would agree for the most part. But there was something so tantalizing and mouthwatering about your breasts that he just couldn’t fucking help himself. They were so full and tender and responsive and it drove him crazy. He would give up every material possession of his just to fuck them once, but that could wait for another day.

Just not a day too far in the future.

His eyes trailed up and locked on yours as he dove down, his lips capturing one of your nipples as he sucked hard.

“Fuck… Steve…” You mewled, your fingers wrapping in the strands of gold atop his head.

He didn’t say anything, instead he let your hardened nipple go with a soft pop and sat back with a purse on his lips, signaling he wanted a kiss. You leaned in, falling right in his trap. As soon as you connected your lips a sharp slap landed on your ass, a yelp falling in Steve’s open mouth. One of his arms was hooked under your thigh to keep you against him, not letting you go as he landed two more open-handed smacks to the flesh.

“That’s for disobeying my orders.” A final hit came down, this one twice as painful as the first few. It was easy to tell that he still had pent up anger left simmering in him from earlier. Your skin was burning, your eyes watering from the sting. “And thats for questioning my judgement. You’re my girl, and when I say you’re fuckin’ perfect, you better believe it as fact, got it?” His fingers were kneading into the tingling flesh, massaging the burn away.

“Yes, Sir.” You huffed, your eyes glossy and your face nearly sweating under his gaze.

“I want you to ride my thigh, sweetheart. Can you do that for me?” Steve asked, his face close to yours, noses brushing softly together.

This man was going to be the death of you.

You nodded. “Yes, Sir.”

“I want you to cum this time. You don’t have to ask.” He said before pressing his lips to yours, his hands crawling up to find purchase on your waist. He helped guide you along his strong thigh while you rocked your hips back and fourth. The friction was heavenly, and you were a moaning mess on top of him. Your mouth was open against his, your breaths mingling together as you rode him, the coil in your stomach ready to snap.

It was so much all at once. You felt everything and it was sending you into overdrive. His hands on your waist, his nails digging crescent shaped marks into your skin. His breath along your collarbones and throat, goosebumps raising from the heat it left behind. The flex of his thigh and how he was barely bouncing it, but that added movement made all the difference. The flutter in your walls begging for a release only Steve could give you. It was entirely too much for you to handle.

“Steve…”

And boy did it snap.

Your orgasm hit you like an eighteen wheeler, your head falling to his shoulder as you released on his thigh, his skin slick with your arousal. He was panting too, his hands gripping so harshly into your sides you were worried he might be drawing blood.

He pressed gentle kisses to your neck, praises falling out in between. “Good girl. Such a fuckin’ good girl for me, aren’t you?” Steve asked, his voice rumbling in your ears.

“Jus’ for you, Stevie.” You nodded heavily, blissed out after your first release.

After a few more sloppy kisses were placed over your face, he pulled away, his hands cupping both cheeks as he forced you to look at him.

You blurted the words out before he could speak.

“I love you.”

The three words that always came so easily to you when you looked at Steve. It was true. You loved him. Not a single day would pass where you wouldn’t love him.

And he knew this all too well.

Steve’s face softened, his small grin growing wider. “And I love you. So much.” He proclaimed, pressing the lightest of kisses to the tip of your nose. “I’m so sorry for yelling at you earlier. You didn’t deserve it.”

You were quick to shake your head, a rogue tear falling down your face and onto Steve’s hand. “It’s alright, honey. Thank you for apologizing, but I was being reckless. You were just trying to keep me safe. I’m sorry too.” His thumb swiped at the wet trail the tear left behind.

“It’s okay. I love you so fucking much-” He said, his voice breaking as his eyes glossed over. Quickly your lips were back on his and he seemed eager to drink you down. Before he could get too ahead of himself, he pulled back, his eyes lidded and dark.

“Hands and knees on the bed, baby. I’m gonna show you how much I fuckin’ love you, and you’re gonna watch.”

Your entire body shuddered as you nodded, peeling yourself away from him and crawling down so your knees and forearms were pressed to the blanketed mattress, your ass in the air and waiting. You focused on his movements behind you, easy to see now that you faced the large mirror that stood in the corner and was pointed directly at the bed.

Steve must’ve done that before he met you in the shower.

A quiet whine left you when his hands landed on your hips, jostling your body forward an inch, your breasts grazing the duvet. His eyes locked on yours in the mirror, the smirk he wore enchanting and devilish at the same time.

Steve was a sneaky man. Sometimes a little too sneaky. It’s why you were so caught off guard when you felt two of his long, thick fingers enter your pussy, your mouth falling open at the sensation.

“Fuck- fucking hell, Stevie.” You moaned into the bed, your nails digging into the blanket for support.

“My beautiful girl…” Steve cooed, his fingers pumping in and out of you like it was his job. “Taking me so well while I’m stretching you out, huh?” His free hand was caressing your side, the pads of his fingers tracing over every iridescent stretch mark that found a home there. His eyes never left yours for even a second, worried he’d miss the way your face contorted from how he played you so expertly. He curled his fingers up, grazing your g-spot with each push and pull.

“Stevie… I’m gonna cum again…” You whined into your hand, drool falling past your lips and onto your skin.

Steve chuckled softly, a shake of his head following as if he was lost in thought. “Go ahead, sweetheart.” His own mouth fell open to mirror yours as he felt you clench around his slick fingers, the pulse of your walls sending a heat to his growing erection.

Slurred words that resembled his name dropped from your mouth, and the coil in your stomach was fading. But Steve’s fingers weren’t slowing down… if anything- they were gaining speed as you rode out your orgasm.

“Honey, w…what are you doing?” You mumbled, beads of sweat forming on your face. “Ahh-” You whimpered, brows knitting together as a third finger entered your aching cunt.

Steve’s eyes weren’t on yours anymore, but instead were focused on how your pussy accepted his fingers so well. “You’re still so tight pretty baby… how are you gonna take all of me, huh?”

You felt thankful for the soundproof walls that surrounded you because you were not being quiet.

“Please, Stevie. I- I can take you… I promise. Please… please…” Your chest was heaving and another orgasm was quickly approaching.

You fell over the edge easily once Steve’s large thumb circled your clit. He rubbed it once, twice, and a third time before you were spasming around him yet again, your moans turning into loud yells against the comforter.

“I know you can baby, just don’t wanna hurt you- that’s all.” He answered before pulling his dripping wet fingers from you, gracefully sweeping them into his mouth yet again before he sucked your arousal right off of them. He hummed around his fingers and closed his eyes, lost in the taste of you.

When his eyes opened again, he looked nothing short of feral. Like something had overcome him and he felt like he had to be in you right now or he’d lose his god damn mind.

So he gave in, dragging his swollen tip across your folds before pushing into your pussy in a single rut of his hips.

“Oh f-fuck-” You stuttered, a heavy shiver running down your spine as he bottomed out inside of you. He felt like heaven and you were a goner when he finally started moving, the tip of his cock kissing your cervix every time he pushed back in. “Feels so good, Stevie. You feel s…so big.”

Steve’s hands were trembling from the adrenaline rush of being inside of you, his fingers kneading into the swollen prints on your ass from earlier. “You feel full, pretty baby? Feelin’ me in your belly?” He asked with lidded eyes, his left hand snaking down to push on the bulge he made in your lower stomach each time his hips snapped back into your ass.

You nodded, pants tumbling out of your mouth as your eyes fluttered closed, savoring the feeling of being filled by your love. “Mhmm, so full Stevie.”

You gasped when you felt his fingers wrap around the base of your throat, tightening and keeping you in his grip. “Eyes up, sweetheart. I need you to see what you do to me.”

The veins in his arms were protruding out and he was dripping in sweat, his face flushed and overtaken with bliss as he kept his pace, his mouth ajar and his eyes dark and filled with lust.

He was close to crying from how much he fuckin’ loved you, needing you to really see what you did to him.

How you completely wreck him and he just lets you and will continue to let you because you’re his best girl and his best girl can wreck him any day of the week.

“Look at how beautiful you are baby, huh? So fuckin’ beautiful. Always so pretty just for me, ain’t that right?” His grip grew impossibly tight against your throat, stars beginning to twinkle in your sight. “Say it, pretty baby. Tell me how beautiful you are.”

From the way Steve was sinfully filling you up to the way his words made your heart flutter with love to the white heat that was building in your stomach, you couldn’t think straight. “I’m b...beautiful, Stevie. I’m your p-pretty girl- ah!”

Hearing you finally say the words he begged to come from you sent him into overdrive, his deep strokes in your pussy growing tenfold, sending your eyes rolling to the back of your head as you tried to hang on to any breath your lungs held. It was impossible though, especially with his hand around your throat so possessively, his other now ghosting over your abused clit.

Your hearing was going out as your climax finally burst, but you could make out the loud, “Yes baby, come on baby, cum on my cock like a good girl. Oh fuck…s-shit sweetheart, you’re so fuckin’ good baby. Just like that.” of Steve’s words. Your walls were clenching around him, his orgasm coming right after yours. He kept rutting into you as he came, his warm, thick seed filling you up entirely until it started dripping out and around his cock, sliding quietly down your shaking thighs.

Steve’s grip around your throat loosened as he pulled out, your body fully plopping down onto the mattress as exhaustion washed over you. You felt him place a few feather light kisses on your back before he got off the bed, the faucet in the bathroom turning on. He returned a moment later, turning you over so you were facing the ceiling, a lukewarm wash rag being dragged across your center as Steve cleaned you up.

He cracked a smile as soon as he saw yours.

“That was… wow, Steve.”

It was an accurate statement. Steve was usually never that rough and commanding with you- but you couldn’t deny how good it made you feel.

“Was it too much?” He asked, a slight cringe pulling at his features.

You shook your head quickly, a small laugh coming from your mouth. “Not at all, Sir. I’m gonna have to piss you off like that more often.” You chuckled as he finished wiping your thighs.

His eyes narrowed at you as he threw the rag in the hamper, making it in despite the fact that he wasn’t even looking. In an instant he was loomed over you, the blues of his eyes disappearing once again.

“Don’t you fuckin’ dare, you brat.”

-

-

-

If you enjoyed this, please consider donating to my Ko-Fi :)

Your stupidity often paid off in these moments, would have actually made a profit if you hadn’t been shot in the side (“lightly grazed, its no big deal”) and were now pouting in the back of the jet while Natasha tried her damn best to glue you up. 

“You know, he’s only worried about you,” Natasha said, quietly. Y/N winced when Natasha pinched the wound together and waited for the glue to dry. They had run out of sucre thread a month or so ago and were now resorting to Wakandan skin glue— at least until they went home again. 

“Yeah, I know. But he does way more stupid stuff all the time. He has no right to be such a baby about it.” You muttered, gasping as you felt the wound pull and settle back into its place. Nat wiped her hands on a towel nearby and raised. Newly dyed eyebrow at you. She had since dyed her hair from red to black, and as much as you liked the black, you missed the normality of her fiery appearance. 

“He heals before we get on the jet. You’ll have to serve as back up when we go up to Columbia next week.” She deadpanned and rolled her eyes when she watched you squawk. “And he has every right.” She said, staring you down and threw a new, clean shirt in your direction. 

“You’ve gotta be shittin’ me.” You grumbled, pulling it over your head and taking in a shape breath of pain when it touched your wound. You slipped off the medical table and walked towards the booth you and Sam had managed to smuggle into the jet, sitting down beside Nat and flopping your forehead onto the table. 

It wasn’t long until Sam had found a clear enough field to land the plane in, nor did it take long for the four of you to trek through the small to find a dirty, grimy hotel that wouldn’t question the four bruised strangers only willing to pay cash for two rooms. You hiked your pack higher on your shoulder and waited in bated silence with Steve and Sam, the latter of who wanted the very ground underneath him to swallow him whole. There was no way in hell that Sam would be willing to spend a twenty-hour flight over the Pacific when you and Steve looked like you wanted to both punch each other senseless or fuck each other to dust. No way in all that was good was he dealing with that. 

“Nat and I will take one room,” Sam said, grabbing Natasha’s hand and pulling her to the farthest room, closing the door behind them without even looking back. 

“Fucking wonderful,” Steve grumbled when he pushed past you and pulled out the key from his pocket. He jammed it in and disappeared from your line of sight before you even had time to look affronted. 

You followed shortly after and slammed the door behind you. Steve looked up from where he was already laying out maps on the desk and glared at you, eyes raking over your tired body before returning to his work. 

“What the hell is the matter with you Rogers?” You snarled, pointing your finger and dropping your pack onto the bed. You stalked forward and pushed his shoulder when he didn’t look at you. “Answer me!”

“You’re my problem, Y/L/N.” He grumbled, not looking up from where he was trying his best to locate the drug factories you were all to infiltrate in three days. He found it hard to make markings as his whole body shook with rage and fear and the pen snapped in his hand, splotching the map with dark black ink. 

“Excuse me?” You gasped and he stood up to his full height, taking a step forward until the rough material of his torn suit pressed against the soft cotton of your own shirt. 

“You. Are. My. Problem.” He growled. Steve took a step forward with every word, forcing you to take a step back until you were pressed against the door once more, now caged between the wall and one of Steve’s arms. “You are rash. You are stupid under pressure. You are ignorantly brave in the face of danger, and it is a question of the team's safety to have you with us and not in Wakanda.”

You blinked, stunned and at a loss for words at his blunt statements. Sure, Steve was no longer the same uptight Captain that he used to be only last year, but this-this was something wholly dark and you gulped before meeting his gaze. 

“Remind you of someone?” You simply asked and he blinked before frowning and placing his other hand on the other side of the door. 

“Who should you remind me of, Doll Face?” He snarled the last two words and you felt a chill climb up your spine to rest at the crown of your scalp. He ducked his head to put his face close to your own, and his breath washed over your cheeks when he said; “Choose your words wisely.”

“You, Steve. I remind you of yourself. Stupid and brave and smart and unwilling to settle myself to follow some fucking plan.” You pushed him off of you and walked by, ripping your suitcase open and swinging around to jab a finger in his face. His beautiful, stunned, livid face. You could tell he wanted so badly to yell at you, but it would have to wait— you had neighbours on both sides of the wall and didn’t want to raise any red flags by making a commotion. 

“Don’t forget who the fuck you are Steven Rogers. Don’t you forget who I am, either.” You growled, pushing him back against the door to emphasize your words before spinning around and stomping to the bathroom, slamming the door behind you. 

____________________________

Your shower did very little to lessen the tension in your shoulders. You watched the shower floor tint pink and red with the clotted and dried blood on your torso and you swore when you wiped a soft cloth over the bruised and puckered wound. Fucking guns. 

You took extra long detangling your hair with the help of the standard hotel conditioner and rubbed some of it on your face— you weren’t allowed to bring anything necessary with you after you had fled from America with the gang, and according to Steve, any form of self-care was wholly unnecessary. 

Fuck Steve. 

It was another hour before you managed to force yourself to open the door, and you Tok a lungful of hair before walking out and actually looking at the room you were to share with Steve. 

The tacky 80’s era wallpaper was peeling in places, and the window was foggy from dust and other mistreatments. The curtains were ratty and the carpet was too thin to actually be considered carpet as far as you thought. There was a desk pressed against the left wall beside a TV that didn’t look like it actually worked which was then beside a luggage rack where Steve had put both your and his packs on it. 

Speak of the devil, he looked like he just wiped himself down really well with the disposable wipes Natasha had stolen from a convenience store when they were in town, and he was already under the white blanket on the bed, reading something on the Wakandan tablet T’Challa has gifted him. You each had one, but you rarely had use for it— being both the youngest and newest member of the Avengers team, you didn’t have enough experience to plan missions or read morse code (you had been learning). You could only play so much solitaire before you wanted to throw yourself out of a window. 

He looked to have changed into a baggy pull over red hoodie, and you assumed his thighs and legs were clad in the dark grey sweatpants that made his ass look great. You heart fluttered a tthe sight of him.

He looked up from his spot on the bed with sad eyes, raking over your body and squinting to map out every bruise and scratch and scar you had on you. Fuck, he hated that you were with him. You were too young to be sacrificing your life like this. Too good. 

Instead of falling into the easy trap of fighting with you, Steve pushed his pride aside and pulled the other corner of the blankets down, not saying anything but also not completely closing himself down to you. 

Wait. 

There was only one bed. 

The bundle of nerves which had been growing ever since your fight with Steve seemed to explode a the thought of having to share a not-too-large bed with Steve. He had been the object of your darkest fantasies for the longest time (literally since grade eight), and now, thirteen-year-old you was actually throwing up. 

“I can sleep on the floor if you want me too—“

“Don’t be stupid, Y/N.” He replied shortly. You had yet to share a bed with Steve. You had shared one with Sam and Natasha before, but everyone knew that something would change if you were forced to climb under the covers with the Captain. It was an unspoken rule that this wasn’t supposed to happen. 

Until now. 

You swallowed the anxiety creeping up your throat and balled your hands into fists, forcing yourself to stumble from the bathroom door to the mattress. You curled on the farthest possible edge of it, pulling just enough blanket to cover your body before squeezing your eyes shut and holding your breath. 

You only had to wait half an hour before Steve turned off his bedside lamp and settled down to sleep. It was quiet for another ten minutes before he took in a sharp breath and held it before letting it all out and speaking. 

“When I saw you jump through that window and lost communication with you, my heart stopped. You’re so young, Y/N you shouldn’t be out here on the run with us. You should be going to school to become someone greater than a vigilante. You should be pulling all-nighters for exams, not stakeouts.” He whispered against the pressing darkness of your room. An animal yowled int eh distance and you flinched. 

“What if I don’t want to be?” You whispered, back and rolled to face the ceiling. “What if I want to be doing this? I want to be with you. Changing the world in the most effective way possible by your side. What if I’m alright doing this for a while?”

There was a pause and you felt Steve’s hand pat the bed as if searching for something, finding it when his fingers intertwine with your own. He squeezed once, and you squeezed once back. 

“I can’t lose you, Y/N.” His voice sounded tired and weak and your grip on his hand tightened. 

“‘M not goin’ anywhere, Stevie.”

_____________________________

When Natasha and Sam woke up, they packed up and cleaned the room, collecting any visible traces fo them being in the room at all before walking towards your room and opening the door with the spare set of keys they were given. 

The sight they walked in to was well worth all the anxiety and pressure of the previous night. 

You looked tiny, but well rested in the bed. Blankets concealing half of your face and snuggled deeply into Steve’s broad chest. He had a heavy arm wrapped around your waist in an iron grip, soft sweater making him look more like a large lumberjack than a wanted man. He had his face buried in the nape of your neck, nose in your hair and snoring lightly. His right leg was wrapped around your own, left leg circled over your hips, pinning you both to the mattress and to him. 

In another world, Natasha and Sam would see this picture, and see two people so in love they were completely afraid to be too far from each other. They would spend most of their free time together, and when they were forced to be apart, they would send short, but sweet text messages to each other to remind each other of how much the other person cared. 

“Here’s the deal,” he murmurs roughly, joining you on the bed and crawling slowly over your restrained body. “I’m going to anything and everything I want to you and you’re going to lay back and take it. And you’re going to fucking love it.” His head was finally at the same level as yours, so that the last three words are hissed into your ear. “You got that?”

“Y-yes,” you whimper. In all honesty, you’re far too turned on to think of a more eloquent response.

He says nothing, but flashes a Cheshire cat grin and pulls off your underwear, the final barrier between your two aching bodies.

“Well then, this should work out just fine.” And with that he slams himself into you. You can’t help but cry out as he rocks his hips into yours. By the second thrust, you're already panting.

“Say my name,” he growls roughly into your ear. “Say my fucking name.”

“Aahn! Steve…Steeeve…”

“What was that? Nowhere near loud enough luv. I want everyone to hear just who’s doing this to you.” He thrusts into with all the force he can muster as he spoke, forcing a muffled scream from your lips.

“STEPHEN! FUCK OH GOD STEPHEN!”

“That’s better,” he rasps, slamming into you again.

Arching your hips into his, you can’t help but groan, “AH, Stephen, please, harder…”

Then, without warning, the sharp rhythm of his hips stops and he pulls out, detangling his long legs from yours.

“NO! AH DON’T-“

He grabs your face as you strain against the handcuffs holding you firmly to the bed, arching your back in a desperate attempt to regain any kind of contact with him.

“I think you’re forgetting who the boss is here,” he rumbles, his normally soft accent made harsh with lust and anger, his face less than an inch from yours. “You’re going to do what I say, and take it like the whore you are. Do you understand?”

Your thoughts are less then coherent as his viselike grip tightens on your face. You try to make words form, but all that tumbles from your lips is a pathetic moan:

“Please, Stephen please…”

His free hand moved suddenly down below your waist, first holding down your twitching hip, then moving to stroke slowly, teasingly, along a more…sensitive area.

“I said, DO YOU UNDERSTAND?” he snarled as he shoved two long fingers into you without warning.

“YES!” you yelp, half from pain, half from excruciating arousal.