Steve Rogers One-Shots

I Know Exactly Where This Leads (Smut)

Returning back home during the late hours, there is a sense of calm. No one else is awake, and thoughts, those can finally crash away. You take off the jacket, stolen from him. Before he left, left you all alone. You walk through the apartment, grabbing a bottle of water from the kitchen. A figure shifts across the living room,

"Who the fuck is there?" You move along the wall demanding an answer; hand trying to find the light switch.

Strong hands grab your waist just as you turn the lights on and form a fist to punch the intruder. Your raised right hook stops midway. Mischievous blue eyes, crinkle with mirth as they gaze into your own.

Steve.

"What the fuck, Steve?" You're nothing short of bewildered. For all you knew he was supposed to be gone with the wind. Undercover. Unseen. A Nomad.

"I can't return to see my best girl?" He raises an eyebrow.

"The best girl you left?" You question voice full of defiance.

"Doll, you sided with him." Steve feels the distaste in his mouth at the memories that surged.

"You could have told him." You argue again, Steve's grip on your hips tightens.

"Doll, I'm not here to talk about bygones."

You gaze up at him confused, he steps closer, you feel the heat of his chest against yours, your palms on his biceps.

"I'm here for you." Steve's voice is in the deep baritone, that he always uses to coax you, that whispers dirty nothings into your skin.

You mind flashes to the nights spent, back against chest, fingers desperately gripping, breathless moans and whimpers, and lovebites.

"I should just tell you to leave, cause I," You don't realise how breathless you are, Steve's warm hands trace over your sides, you can feel yourself melting against him.

"Will you?" Steve challenges, he knows you both have been this way, coming together then going apart only to land back in each other's arms.

Your heart lurches at those two words, you're as addicted to him as he is to you.

"I," You begin,

"Y/N," he whispers and you just want him to chant your name over and over in that voice.

"Steve, this I,"

"You can say no." He says sincerely, always wanting your consent, he cups your cheek, his pupils are blown wide.

"May I please taste you?" He pleads, sounding desperate, "Need to taste you, been months, baby, please?"

Each word shoots to your clit as it pulses for him.

You rest your head against the wall, the ache between your legs tugs at the ache in your heart, this is only how you would have him, how you could have him but you can't tell him what you really feel.

"Yes." You whisper, Steve's lips are on yours, fervent, longing, he moans as your hips arch against him.

Your hands tangle in his hair, keeping his lips on your own, you moan as his hand trails over your ass down to your thighs, pushing your skirt upwards.

He pulls you up, legs wrapping around him, the angle places your clothed wet core right above his clothed length. The fabric moves deliciously against you, you whimper biting on his bottom lip.

Steve smirks, pushing you against the wall and grinding against you drawing out whimpers of his name.

He pulls his lips from yours, you breath hard, his lips latch onto your neck, open mouthed kisses placed till he reaches your sternum, he blows over the heated skin, you arch at the cold sensation.