Steve Rogers One Shots

I'm Tired

"Uggh."

You dump the gym bag onto a chair and lean against the wall, your fingers crawling through your tangled hair.  Three missions.  Three!  And Fury had no sympathy, throwing targets and information at you without break.  It had started yesterday morning with Fury yelling about you getting your ass to base before he kicked it to China.

You were there by 3:02 am, Fury throwing a file into your hands and directing you onto an aircraft.  You had flown for hours only to be greeted with the job of sprinting through England's sewers like a mad man.  

When he finally explained the situation, you took no time in joining up with trusted contacts and kicking some butt.  Your morning arousal had made you cranky, motivating you to get the job done.  The small hideouts were terribly concealed, though the sewer part made it pretty hidden.  

You had snatched 20 minute naps throughout the day, the rest making you feel groggy.  You now stood in the apartment, the clock blinking 6:46 am.  

Fury was gonna get it from you.

"Darling?"  Steve arrives with a newspaper in hand and sweating dripping down his temples.  "Your home," he smiles, dropping the roll on a counter and brushing a chaste kiss onto your forehead.

"Did you see the note I left on the fridge?"  Classic, but you were dumbfounded as to how you would tell Steve of the situation, so you did the first thing that came to mind.

"As if that made me feel any better."  He rolls his eyes and leans on the wall opposite of you, eyebrows raised in question.

"Fury had me out on missions.  Just some small stuff in England," you cheerily pipe, the accent making Steve bow over in laughter.

"Sleep?"  His eyes run over your features, knowing the answer.

'Maybe 2 or 3 hours," you shrug, dropping your hands to your sides.

"Go shower, I'll make you something to eat."

"Grilled cheese?"  

"Yeah," he smiles, pressing up against you to lock lips.  He rests his hands on your waist, his muscles limp from exhaustion.  Neither of you move, the taste of sweat dancing between your teeth.  He stands away, pushing you into the bathroom with a towel.

He forgets to toss some clothes to you, so you stroll over to his closet for a sweatshirt.  You dig through your own trunk for some underwear, then walk out to see two sandwiches and some hot chocolate waiting for you.  

Steve walks behind you to claim the bathroom as you shamelessly inhale the meal, slouching in content when he walks out.

"That tasted amazing," you laugh, leaning your head back onto his chest.

"I bet it would, after being away for over 24 hours."  He grips your shoulders, his thumbs loosening the taught muscle in your shoulders and back.

"Hmm, that feels good.  Can I sleep now?"  

"Yeah, come on."  He tugs you to the bedroom where you fall onto the bed, his groin pressing against your lower back as he leans over to massage the strained flesh.  He pulls the warm clothing over your head and rains kisses down on your neck.

"Steve, stop....I'm sleepy," you giggle, arching your back into his touch.

"I know," he rumbles, the skin on his chest vibrating against your back.  He flips you over to capture your breasts in his mouth, alternating his attention.  Gently gripping the sides of his head, you pull his mouth up to yours to you can delve your tongue into the opening.

The tiredness hasn't faded away, so you have to pull back in reluctance.  "Steve, come closer," you whine, pulling him on top of you and wrapping your arms around his neck.

His hot, open mouthed kisses make you moan in longing, the weight and heat of his body on top of yours reassuring and relaxing.  Wriggling around, you manage to get your hands into Steve's boxers, grasping his length and running your fingers over it in endless paths.

Steve mumbles something incoherent into your open mouth, his hips lifting up to give you more room.  Your thumb runs over the tip, the other hand pumping him.  Lifting you up, Steve sits straight while running his lips up and down your neck.

You pull away to slide down his front and litter his chest and stomach with kisses, gripping his hips and catching his cock in your mouth.  His fingers latch themselves into your hair, his legs giving out under him.  He falls back, his head and shoulders sloping off the bed.

You run your tongue up and down his length, rubbing his sack and lightly running your teeth along the base.  His breaths are jagged and choppy, his pelvis bucking up in protest to your fleeting touch.

"Stop teasing," he complains.  Whines, actually.  You smile to yourself and let his cock sink into your mouth, your tongue circling his length as you hollow out your cheeks.  The tip wacks the back of your throat, your mind relishing the feeling of him filling you up.  His hands shake as he comes into your mouth, his hips thrusting back and forth. 

"I thought you were tired," he pants out, his fingers seeking out your arms to pull you up.  Your mouth and tongue swirl up his front, your teeth grazing his nipples.  When you find his mouth, you lay on top of him, his length pressing up against your thigh.

"I was, but then you decided to turn me on," you chuckle, his body moving forward to place you back at the top of the mattress.  "How dare you."

"Sorry," he laughs, "You just looked so damn hot."

"Uh-huh," you sigh, a small smile playing on your mouth as your lips latching back onto his.  

You lay there for what seems like eternity.  His legs are splayed about, your feet tangled in his.  He brings a soft throw over both of you, his hands roaming your body without knowing it.  You doze off blissfully, the warm atmosphere lulling you into a white slumber.

"Sleep, honey.  I have to go."  You hear some rustling as Steve sits up and sticks his arms through the sweatshirt.  An alarm clock beeps in the background, making you cringe in annoyance.

"Fine," you grumble, pulling the quilt up and around your shoulders.  "Kick Fury's butt for me, will you?"

"Okay," he laughs, gently prying himself from the bed and tickling your ear with his lips.  "Sleep well."

"Mmmh."  The last thing your brain is able to process is the quiet flick of a light switch and sharp thud of the door closing.