#enhanced

Stomping through the snowy path, towards the Hydra base alongside Steve Rogers. You hated this man. You truly did. You hated how much you were drawn to him. You hated how much he got under your skin. You especially hated how much you, didn’t hate him. Tony assigned both of you to go on the mission together, it was no doubt you guys worked perfectly together but the bickering got in between that. He always had something negative to say, “C’mon keep up, you’re slowing me down.” he says, glancing back at you. You were only a few steps behind him, despite the cold not having an affect on you, you still grew tired from walking such a long distance. “Yeah, yeah.” you mumble catching up to him. As you approached the base you instantly felt something was off, the air seemed to freeze completely around the both of you. The sound of wind hushing stopped, an ambush. “Steve…wait.” you whisper.

Steve stops abruptly, his senses on high alert as he scans their surroundings. He can feel it too, an eerie silence that doesn't sit right. As he turns to look at you, his expression is serious. "What is it?" he asks quietly, his eyes never leaving yours.

The soft crunching of snow made your body tense up, your eyes meet his with urgency, “We have to go back, this doesn’t feel right.” You say keeping your voice hushed. You can feel the shift in movement around you, making your head spin in different directions. Steve's instincts kick in, mirroring your unease. He slowly starts to backtrack, his hand reaching for his shield on his back. "You're right..." He whispers, his eyes darting around the frozen landscape.

Suddenly, the ground beneath them erupts. the snow explodes around you two. Ice shards fly everywhere, narrowly missing you both. Hydra soldiers emerge from hidden tunnels, surrounding you. "Dammit," Steve mutters, pulling his shield off his back. He throws it effortlessly, knocking one soldier unconscious.

Your heartbeat picks up, the two of you are no match for the amount of soldiers surrounding. “Duck.” With that you send ice shards into as many soldiers as you could before grabbing Steve’s arm, pulling him behind a bush. “We have to retreat, there’s too many of them.”

Steve follows your lead, ducking behind the bush just as a barrage of bullets whizzes by where you were standing. "You're right," he grunts, peeking through the leaves to assess the situation. The soldiers are closing in, their boots crunching on the frozen ground. You nod trying to come up with a plan to leave safely. “When I say run, sprint as fast as you can.” You whisper, he tries to argue but it’s no use.

Your eyes contort to a glowing ice blue. shit. shit. shit. Popping up from behind the bush, you manipulate the ice below the soldiers, sending ice like shards through their bodies. “Run!” Steve grabs you, sprinting as fast as he can. You arrive at an old cabin. Steve kicks open the cabin door, pulling both of you inside the darkened interior. The old smell of wood and ash hitting your senses immediately. He slams the door shut and leans against it, breathing heavily. His eyes widen as he notices your ice-blue glowing eyes fading away.

"What the hell was that back there?"

You fall onto the old sofa, chest heaving. “Saving your ass.” you breathe, still trying to catch your breath.

Steve lets out a short, incredulous chuckle despite the dire situation. He pushes off from the door and strides over to the sofa, lowering himself to sit beside you. His gaze is searching, eyebrows furrowed with concern and lingering awe from the display of your powers. "Literally,"

There’s a few moments of silence, comfortable silence at that, before you spoke up, “We can hide in here for a while then head back to the quinjet.” You say, standing up, you open the heavy curtain on the window and your jaw drops. The snow completely covered it, “no…” you mumble under your breath. You try to open the door but it’s shut closed, We’re trapped.

In an instant, he's by your side, concern etched deeply in his features. He tries to push the door open himself, his muscles flexing with effort. It doesn't budge. "Trapped," he says grimly, running a hand through his hair.

Your jaw tightens, “fucking great.” you mutter, taking a seat back on the sofa. “Is your com still working?”

"Yeah," He pats his communicator, then presses the button. "This is Rogers. Anyone read?" Static answers him. He tries again, lower voice laced with worry. "Tony? Natasha? Anyone?" Still static. He drops down on the coffee table facing you, his brows furrowed. You groan knowing you’re really trapped now. “The snow should pass over, I can try to move it but it looks like there’s a lot out there, it’ll take hours.”

Steve nods, looking grim but determined. He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he considers the situation. "Hours might be a problem. Those soldiers weren't far behind us, and they'll likely follow the tracks." He glances around the cabin, mentally cataloging potential weapons or defensive positions.

You nod, “I can cover our tracks, it’ll buy us some time.” Standing up from the sofa, you make your way over to the window once again. Focusing on the ice, you rise it a bit higher covering the foot prints.

Steve watches you work, impressed despite the dire circumstances. Once you've covered the tracks, he stands up and joins you by the window. He peers out into the blinding snowstorm, his breath fogging up the glass. "This storm is worse than I thought."

No shit Sherlock. “Are you cold?” you whisper, turning to look up at him. You can handle the cold, it’s practically pumping through your veins. But Steve? He can only sustain the temperature for so long.

"A little," He admits softly, his body language stiffening slightly, not wanting to show weakness. He's used to cold weather training…hell, he can sustain it for a lot longer than you probably could, but this storm is something else. He watches you, sees how unaffected you are by the temperature. "You're like a human ice cube," he jokes softly.

You smirk at his comment, giving him a playful slap to the chest before taking a seat on the sofa. “How long do you think you’ll last, till you freeze.” you ask, you meant in a joking manner but it came out a bit more serious than you intended. This is the longest conversation you and Steve had without arguing. Maybe it’s the predicament you’re currently in, not much room for arguing at the moment.

He sits down next to you, his gaze drifting to the window as he tries to estimate his endurance in this frigid environment. "A few hours." he says quietly, his breath visible in the cold air. Theres no source of heat in here, no fire, no blankets, nothing. He’ll be lucky if he can even go a few hours. He glances over at you, his expression, almost thoughtful.

You inch closer to his embrace, trying to provide some kind of warmth. “I know you would rather be anywhere but here…but this is the best option if you don’t want to freeze.” You mumble, scooting closer.

He tenses briefly, then relaxes into your embrace, wrapping his arms around you to share what little warmth he has left. He rests his chin on top of your head, inhaling the faint scent that's uniquely yours. "This is torture," he mutters softly.

You chuckle softly, “A couple hours, that’s all. Then we can get the hell out of here.” You whisper, wrapping an arm around his waist. His grip tightens slightly, pulling you even closer. He knows he should push you away, but the cold is sapping his strength and resolve. He rests his head against yours, his voice barely audible.

"And then what? Back to hating each other?"

You shrug in his arms, “That’s usually how it goes.” you mutter, You never understood why he hated you. The constant picking on you, the hushed retorts. You certainly don’t hate him, but god…does he make it hard to like him. He sighs, his breath visible in the cold air. For a moment, he's silent, mulling over your words and the irony of their situation. Here they are, stranded together in a freezing cabin, pretending to tolerate each other for survival.

An hour or so passes and you practically can feel Steve shaking in your arms. “Steve, you okay?” you whisper, looking up at him. His lip is quivering ever so slightly, and his face is flushed.

He looks down at you, his eyes glazed over and unfocused. "F-fine," he stutters, trying to hide the shiver that wracks his body. He knows he's reaching his limit, the cold seeping into his bones and sapping his strength. Before you could think, you straddle his lap facing him. “Just…relax.” you mumble, wrapping your arms around his neck, melting into his embrace.

The heat of your body against his instantly warms him, but the gesture catches him completely off guard. He sits frozen - literally and figuratively - surprised by your sudden closeness. His hands automatically go to your waist to steady himself. "What are you doing?"

“Trying to keep you alive.” you mumble into his neck, accidentally rolling your hips against his trying to sit comfortably on his lap, not realizing exactly what you just did.

His heart hammers against his chest as he realizes the position you've put him in. His face is pressed against your neck, inhaling your scent and feeling the warmth of your body. He can feel your hips against his, and it takes every ounce of his willpower not to react. You shift uncomfortably on his lap, hips rolling against his. You would think sitting on his lap would be a bit more comfortable, it felt like sitting on a brick.

He grits his teeth, trying to ignore the uncomfortable yet strangely pleasant sensation of your hips against his. His arms wrap around your waist, holding you close as he struggles to maintain his composure. "Stop moving," he mutters, his voice strained.

You can feel heat rushing to your cheeks at his words. You didn’t mean to…? “Sorry.” you breathe out, your breath warm against his chilling neck. He suppresses a shudder, not from cold this time, but from the feeling of your breath so close to his sensitive neck. His grip on your waist tightens almost imperceptibly.

"It's fine," he gruffs out, though his rigid posture suggests otherwise.

You swear you weren’t doing it on purpose, but couldn’t help shifting again, his hold around your waist getting uncomfortably tight. “You’re gonna squeeze me to death Rogers.” you mutter, rolling your hips against his once again.

His breath catches audibly in his throat at the movement, his usually controlled demeanor beginning to crack. "Would you stop-" But he can't finish the sentence, your movement has made something very evident through his layers of clothing. "Jesus Christ," he mutters under his breath. Your heart stops beating for a moment, is he seriously? “Steve.” you retort, pulling away from his neck to meet his eyes.

His eyes lock with yours, filled with an unreadable expression - a mix of anger, frustration, and something else he refuses to acknowledge. He swallows hard, his jaw clenching. "You're doing it on purpose," he accuses, his voice low and gravelly.

You scoff, resting your hand on his chest. Is he fucking serious? “I am not doing anything.” you retort back.

His hand moves from your waist to your hip, applying the slightest bit of pressure to keep you still. "Bullshit," he mutters, his face inches from yours. His chest rises and falls rapidly beneath your touch. "Do you even realize where-" But he stops himself, jaw clenched.

So much for not arguing. “Yeah? tell me what I’m doing, that’s supposedly on purpose.” Something in your tone changed, your voice was low, almost seductive. You slide your hand from his chest to the back of his neck, seeing the small hairs stand up.

His breath catches at your touch on his neck, muscles tensing. "You're- Fuck," he swears quietly, gripping your hip firmly. "You're sitting on my lap, moving around like..." He trails off, unable to finish the thought.

"You know exactly what you're doing."

Your eyes widen slightly, realizing what he’s implying. “You think I’m purposely trying to ride you or something?” you scoff, rolling your eyes.

His eyebrows furrow as he stares at you incredulously. "Well, what the hell am I supposed to think when your hips are basically grinding against-" He stops abruptly, realizing how loud his voice has gotten. Clearing his throat, he stops noticing a smirk creep onto your lips. you’re having an effect on him, and he knows it. Your eyes glance to the very evident bulge in his pants, before meeting his eyes once again.

His eyes watch your gaze flick downwards, his jaw tightening again. "Goddammit," he mutters softly, his voice lower than before. Your smirk making him suspicious. His eyes flick down to your lips briefly. "Are you-" He swallows hard. You cut off his words, rolling your hips against his with urgency. “Oh like this?” you retort sarcastically.

His eyes snap down to where your body moves against his. "Shit," he mutters quietly, watching your hips. "That's not an answer," he grits out, trying his best to ignore the sensation between his legs. "And stop moving," he adds sharply. Despite his efforts telling you to stop, You simply nod slowing your movements, but not stopping them.

Steve's nostrils flare as he takes a shuddering breath, fists clenching at his sides. "I said stop moving," he repeats, his voice strained with barely suppressed frustration - and something else entirely. His hips involuntarily jerk upwards, betraying his body's reaction. The sudden movement, catches you off guard completely. A soft moan slipping from your lips.

He freezes, his heart pounding in his chest as he realizes what just happened. His eyes snap back up to meet yours, seeing the soft, needy sound that escaped your lips. His gaze locks onto yours, the air thick with tension. "Don’t," he whispers, his voice hoarse with desire.

You stop your teasing, almost embarrassed at the sound that left your lips. “Sorry.” you whisper resting both of your hands on his chest, trying to steady yourself. His muscles flex beneath your hands, chest heaving. The word "Sorry" catches in his throat as he stares at your lips again, remembering how they just forming around that delicate moan. "Just shut u-" He catches himself, jaw clenching.

"Don't stop moving."

His words throw you for a loop, your brows furrowing in response hearing his low words. You roll your hips against his slowly, the friction feeling delicious. His eyes roll back slightly, head tipping back against the wall as he lets out a shaky breath. The movement is slow, but it's enough. His hips begin to move subtly, matching your roll with his own gentle thrusts. "Jesus Christ," he breathes, head still pressed against the wall.

His whispered words are enough to send heat straight to your core. You quicken your movements, grinding harsher against his hardness. He gasps sharply, one hand flying to grip your hip as his control slips. "Fuck, wait-" But his words dissolve into a low groan as you press against him more insistently. His hips buck up involuntarily, seeking more friction, more of that delicious heat rubbing against his aching cock.

Still grinding your hips, you lower your head catching his neck, leaving soft open mouth kisses along his jaw. His hips buck up hitting your clit perfectly, making you moan softly just below his ear. He inhales sharply, his body tensing as he feels your warm breath on his neck, those soft open-mouthed kisses driving him mad. His hips surge upward again, finding that perfect spot that makes you make those tiny needy sounds.

You wanted more, fuck that. You needed more.

“Steve…”

His name on your lips, broken and desperate like that, completely shatters his remaining control. One hand moves to grip your hair at the nape of your neck, the other squeezing your hip possessively. "God, stop moaning like that..."

You smirk, kissing just below his ear, softly nipping at the sensitive skin. “S’good Steve…just like that.” you coo in his ear.

His breath catches sharply as your voice, low and breathy, tickles his ear. He swallows a groan, realizing you're purposefully teasing him with words and touches. "You're enjoying this, aren't you?" he pants out, one eyebrow quirked despite his desperation. Just as the words leave his lips, his hips jerk up hitting your clit deliciously once again. “yes…!” you cry out.

A shudder runs through him at your shameless moan, his resolve cracking further. "Fuck, you're sexy when you're desperate," he growls, surprising himself with the dirty talk. His hands slide down to grab your ass, squeezing and guiding your hips in tighter circles against him.

Pressing a hand against his chest, halting his movements. You climb off of his lap, pulling your tights down quickly. His eyes darken at the sight, you swore he drool a little. He pulls you back on his lap, letting out a whiny moan, the thin lace of your panties being the only barrier between you two. He sucks in a sharp breath, his hands flying to your hips to pull you even closer, as if he can't get enough of the friction.

Making it apparent you couldn’t get enough, you lift your hips above his, hovering over his bulge. “Take them off.” you whisper, tilting his head up to look at you. His gaze snaps up to meet yours, filled with a heady mix of desire and surprise at your commanding tone. Without a word, he hooks his fingers into the waistband of your panties and slowly pulls them down, revealing your bare, glistening core.

“You sure?”

You nod, reaching down unbuttoning his jeans. Pulling them down just enough to release his bulge evident in his boxers. “Look at you…” you whisper, breath catching at the sight. His chest heaves with heavy breaths, watching your confident movements. The way you're teasing him, handling him with such deliberate care, drives him crazy.

"Don't look at me like that..." he warns, though it comes out more like a plea than anything else. "It's making me..." His words trail off into a low groan as his cock bounces free, standing proud and hard between his thighs. He's never been so turned on in his life, and it's all because of the way you're looking at him, like he's the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen.

Unable to hold back any further, you rub his head through your slick folds. letting out a soft moan in responce. A low, deep sound escapes his throat at the feel of your wetness against his sensitive head. His hands dig into your hips, urging you on though he knows he should probably tell you to take it slow. "Shit..." his head falls back against the wall, eyes darkening with desire.

You hum in approval before teasing his head at your entrance, The obscene sound filling the room. His abs tighten as he fights back a thrust, watching you rub his head against your entrance, making his imagination run wild with images of sliding deep inside you. His hands flex on your hips, trying not to take control. "Baby..." He warns softly.

Without warning, you sink down onto his cock. The blissful pain flowing through your core, causing a whimpered moan to slip from your lips feeling him stretch you out deliciously. You sit still on his lap, letting your body adjust to his incredible size. “My god…” you whimper softly.

His back arches slightly at the sudden tight, wet heat. "Holy..." He swallows hard, hands flying to your thighs to spread them wider. He watches where you're connected, his thick length slowly disappearing inside you. He can feel every little movement you make, your inner muscles tightening around him. Slowly, you began riding him, your body moving upward and downwards at a perfect rhythm. His breath catches in his throat as you begin moving, the sensation unbelievable as your velvety walls squeeze him tightly. He watches in awe, hands stroking up and down your thighs, before sliding around to grip your ass, encouraging your rhythm.

"Fuck... Just like that,"

You nod in approval, chest heaving. Your pace quickens slowly but surely, the sound of skin clapping against each other, wet noise, and the smell distinctly of sex filling the quiet cabin.

His eyes roll back as he loses himself in the sight and feeling of you riding him. The sound of your wet pussy squeezing his cock, the way your breasts bounce with each movement, it's all too much. He lets out a string of curses, his hips bucking up to meet your downward motion.

You tighten your hold around his shoulders, breathe warm against his neck. You kiss, bite, lick gently on the delicate skin, leaving dark marks, letting out soft moans and whimpers here and there. He groans at the feeling on his neck, his large hands gripping your ass tightly as he thrusts up into you. The combination of your soft sounds and tight pussy is driving him wild. He can feel his orgasm building, his sac tightening as he gets closer and closer. He can your walls tighten around his length, making him twitch inside of you,

“I know you’re close…let go for me sweetheart.” You whisper, your voice is low, whiny…seductive in his ear.

Your seductive words and tight walls prove too much, sending him over the edge. With a low groan that seems to rumble through his entire body, he bursts, thick ropes of cum pumping deep inside you. His grip on your ass becomes almost bruising as spikes of pleasure course through him. You’re right behind him, his hot seed painting your walls, sending you right where you craved to be. Body shaking with pleasure, as your orgasm crashes through you.

He holds you tight, his arms wrapping around your waist as he rides out his climax, filling you to the brim with his release. When he finally starts to come down, he collapses back against the sofa, you still impaled on his softening length.

You chuckle softly, through a heavy breath. “Warmer now?” you say, grinding your hips slowly, riding out your high. He chuckles back, his strong arms around your waist, his fingers splaying out on your lower stomach possessively. "Much warmer," He murmurs, his hips twitching up into you gently, not ready to slip out just yet.

Letting your body rest on his for a few moments longer, you finally lift off of his lap, his release dripping down your thigh. “Oh, fuck.” you whimper. He looks down at the evidence of their passion dripping down your thigh, his release mingling with yours. He reaches out to hook his fingers around your thigh, pulling your leg over his lap again, keeping you close. "Damn..."

“Still hate me?”

He looks up at you with a smirk, his hand slowly trailing up and down your thigh while keeping your leg draped over his lap. "Only when you're being a brat," he jokes, squeezing your thigh gently. His eyes soften as he meets your gaze, a tender look passing between you both.

You laugh softly, leaning down to catch his lips. After all of that, you couldn’t believe you didn’t kiss him sooner. He returns the kiss, his arms wrapping around you again as if he never wants to let you go. When you finally break the kiss, he rests his forehead against yours, holding you close. "I think I've been an idiot," he admits softly.

“Humor me, Rogers.”

He chuckles softly, shaking his head with a rueful smile. "Okay, smart-ass, maybe I've been more of an idiot than usual. Thinking I could hate you, when really..." He pauses, searching your eyes. "...when really, you drive me fucking crazy." He notices the subtle furrowing your brows,a confused glint shining in your stunning eyes. He swallows hard, his thumb rubbing soothing circles on your thigh as he tries to put his jumbled thoughts into words. "You make me angry, you make me laugh, you make me..." He trails off, his jaw clenching briefly.

“Spit it out Steve.”

He lets out a frustrated groan, running his free hand through his hair. "What I’m trying to say is...you make me want things I shouldn't. Like this," He gestures between you two with his hand on your thigh. "I shouldn't want to kiss you every damn second." He looks at you with a conflicted expression, his blue eyes searching yours. "I shouldn't want to protect you, to make you smile, to hear your laugh... I shouldn't want to be near you all the time." He takes a deep breath, his voice dropping to a softer tone.

Your hands trail up his body, stopping to caress his jaw gently, eyes never leaving his. “Why do you?”

His eyes flutter closed briefly at your touch, leaning into your hand. When he opens them again, there's a vulnerability in his gaze that he rarely shows. "Because... because I think I'm falling for you." The words are barely a whisper, but they hang heavy in the air between you.

You crash your lips onto his, the kiss slower, messier, full of undeniable feelings. His hand moves up to grip your neck while the other pulls you closer, kissing you deeply. When you finally part, he rests his forehead against yours again, a soft chuckle escaping him. “Good, because I’ve already fallen.”