Summary: When you disobey a direct order, Steve wants you to know exactly who is in charge, or so he thinks.
Word Count: 2,381
Warnings: Rough explicit sexual content, dom!reader, some dub!con I guess
Author’s Note: Requested by @maaaaryx Could you write some Steve x Reader smut, maybe the reader got in trouble or disobeyed Steve and, well, Cap wants to punish her? – Sorry, there’s no real punishment here. GIF Credit

My work is not to be posted on any other sites without my express written permission

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You stormed off the quinjet, hands balled into fists at your side, muttering through your teeth. You were pissed… no, you were in a rage, and it was all because of Steve Rogers. He was calling after you, demanding that you stop your retreat, “Immediately, soldier.”

Everyone else in the hanger stopped what they were doing, their voices trailing off, their attention on you and Steve.

With your jaw clenched and murder in your eyes, you turned around. “I ain’t your fuckin’ soldier,” you spat at him.

Your blood was surging and if you weren’t careful, your powers were going to flare up and no one would be safe. You stormed out of the hanger and into the compound, the doors slamming behind you with a little too much oompf. Once inside your room, you let loose a shout of unadulterated rage that made the windows rattle, made the glass on your desk start shaking, made the still-lit bulb in your lamp explode.

God, you wanted to punch Steve in his perfect fucking face.

It was supposed to be a simple mission; sneak in, rescue the prisoner, and sneak out, but things didn’t go according to plan. The entire thing had been a set-up, and several members of the team almost paid for it with their lives. Had you not been with them, they would have, but Cap didn’t see it that way.

He said you were, “Careless for jumping into the fray like that. Could’a fuckin’ died!”

“But I didn’t,” you shouted in his face. “And neither did anybody else!”

“That’s not the point, Y/N,” Steve raged, his face red. “You defied a direct order.”

Bucky was facing his friend, hand on his heaving chest. “Ease off, punk.”

Steve’s eyes flashed as he shoved Bucky’s hand away. “You’d do best to listen to me, or else.”

“Oh, really?” you sassed, rolling your eyes. “What are you gonna do about it?”

“You’re fucking grounded,” Steve bellowed, that vein in his neck pulsing heavily, looking as if it were about to burst.

Bucky shoved at his friend, pushing him back, away from the fight. “You don’t mean that,” he snarled.

“He doesn’t mean that,” Bucky rephrased as he turned to you.

“Like hell I don’t mean it,” Steve hollered, his feet hitting the floor heavily as he started making his way back toward you.

You gave a barking laugh that echoed in the jet. “You think that because you’re Captain America, pretty boy, gets whatever he fuckin’ wants by battin’ those baby blues, that I’m gonna just say ‘okay, yeah, you’re right, Steve. I should have let Clint die.’ Fuck. You.” The jet landed a minute later, the two of you still glaring at one another, neither one of you willing to back down.

You kicked off your shoes with a growl and they went soaring into the bathroom, through the closed door, but you really didn’t care what you happened to destroy, it wasn’t like Stark couldn’t afford to replace a door, a bathroom mirror, and several tiles.

There was one solid knock on the door before Steve opened it, or tried. With a flick of your wrist, you harnessed your power and slammed it in his face.

“God damn it,” Steve roared. “Lemme in.”

“Take a fuckin’ hint, Rogers,” you screamed. “I don’t want to talk to you.”

Steve punched the door, but it didn’t budge, it didn’t even splinter. “Open up, that’s an order.”

Rolling your eyes, you snarled, “Enough with your goddamn orders. I ain’t a soldier and I won’t do your bidding.”

“Would you just…” You could feel the sigh rip out of him, almost as if he were punched in the gut. “Please, Y/N. Open the door.” His hand slapped against it impatiently. You were still vibrating with rage, but the power you were using to keep the door in its frame started to fizzle out.

“What else do you want to ridicule me for?” you snapped as soon as he pushed the door open and stepped into your room.

Steve stood there, his chest heaving, his dark eyes raking over every inch of your black and brown mission gear, and it felt like an eternity before he spoke, before he admitted exactly why he was reacting in such a fashion.

“You scared me today, Y/N,” he sighed. “And no, not because of your ability.”

With your jaw clenched, you shrugged your shoulders. “Then why, Steve? Why are you acting like you’re my dad?”

Steve scraped a hand over his face. “Because you could have died.”

“Clint would have died,” you insisted, one of your hands flexing at your side.

“I get that,” Steve huffed. “I do, but Clint… he’s a good friend and I’d do anything to protect him, but… you…” his voice trailed off.

You swallowed around the sudden knot in your throat. “What about me?”

He huffed out a breath through his nose and shook his head. “You’re just so goddamn stubborn.”

“That’s nothing new.”

“You know what I mean,” Steve insisted, one brow arched, his hands on his hips.

The last of the boiling anger left you then, leaving you reeling at the way your emotions rolled around in your chest. You had always found Steve attractive, sexy in that boy-next-door kind of way, after he had graduated high school, gained 45 pounds of muscle, and could bench press a Buick with one hand. But he was Captain America, saving the world, getting on your last nerve, always catching the eye of some damsel in distress.

You crossed the room and looked up at him. “What about me, Steve?”

One corner of his mouth quirked up as he reached up to tuck some hair behind your ear. “If anything happened to you,” he sucked in another shuddering breath, “it just might kill me.”

“What are you talking about?” you demanded to know, confusion pulsing through you. “You berate me, in front of everyone, and all of a sudden, you’re switching gears.” Steve’s jaw clenched and the sight of him, pissed off, towering over you, power flowing off of him in waves, it made your pussy clench, which it had absolutely no right in doing.

“I’m talking ‘bout how a simple order seems to be too confusing for you to understand,” he went off, taking a step towards you. “I’m talking ‘bout how the sight of you, pinned down by gunfire, not caring if you get a bullet between the eyes as long as your teammate lives, makes me want to throw up, how it makes me see red. I’m talking ‘bout the fact that I can’t go a goddamn night without dreaming of you screaming my name as I fuck you.”

Well… that was… unexpected. You stood there, your back close to being plastered against the wall, staring up at Steve as if he had sprouted another head. It took several tries before your voice worked.

“I don’t… um, I don’t understand,” you stammered, lying your ass off. Of course you understood, you felt the exact same way. If anyone, friend or foe, laid a hand on Steve, dared to harm him, you’d slaughter anyone in your path. He was too important to you to risk losing.

His hand was on your face, those long fingers tangling in your hair. “I’m talking ‘bout how I’m in love with you.”

You leaned into his hand and sighed at the realization that couldn’t happen, not now, not ever. “Steve, we can’t.”

“Why not, huh? Because we get on each others nerves and want to kill each other more often than not?” he joked.

“That’s one way of putting it,” you said ruefully, moving to pull back, to put some distance between you, but Steve wasn’t having it. He pulled you to him and dipped his head, smearing a kiss against your lips with a sigh. A muffled sob left your throat at the contact, and as much as you wanted it, needed it, you ground your teeth and shook your head.

Steve huffed loudly. “Stop pushing me away, Y/N.”

Your resolve was crumbling, and it pissed you off. You had spent the last handful of years building a giant wall around your heart in an effort to close yourself off, to keep yourself from getting hurt like you had in the past, to keep yourself from falling in love, and there stood Steve with the ability to turn it to dust, all with five little words.

“I’m not,” you insisted, lying through your teeth to the most noble man you’d ever met. “I’m ensuring our survival.”

You knew he understood what you meant. Being a ‘superhero,’ being an Avenger meant that there was absolutely no room for mistakes and distractions, and falling in love with a member of the team was the biggest distractions there were.

Steve’s jaw clenched once again before he snarled, “Fuck it,” and kissed you.

His tongue was in your mouth, his fists were in your hair, and he was kicking the door shut. Raw lust surged through your body, igniting everything it touched, and it sent you into Steve’s chest, your hands fumbling at the buckle on his waist, desperately wanting to see and touch every inch of his glorious body, wanting to see that dark blue stealth suit on your floor.

With a growl in the back of his throat, Steve tore himself away from you, using your hair for leverage. “Someone’s anxious,” he noted, his dark eyes roaming over you, the air tearing in and out of his lungs.

“Shut up,” you snarled in frustration. You tapped into your powers, just skimming the surface, really, and Steve’s belt came undone.

You surged up to give Steve a searing kiss, all tongues and teeth, as clothes were torn off and tossed to the floor, on the desk, on that chair in the corner where you liked to read when you couldn’t sleep. Moving lightning quick, you pushed Steve onto the bed, climbing between his thick thighs, and taking his cock into your mouth.

“Fuck, doll,” he sneered, his hand in your hair, on the back of your head, urging your mouth further down his shaft until he hit the back of your throat. You choked on his cock, tears streaming down your face, your nails digging into his thighs as he fucked your mouth, his hips snapping off the bed, sinful moans of your name falling from his perfect mouth.

His thighs flexed hypnotically as he pulled your mouth off him, his saliva-coated cock slapping against his stomach. “I ain’t done with you yet,” he vowed, his voice dark and gritty.

You chuckled and shook your head. “My turn, sir.”

Without warning, you used your power to pin Steve’s arms to the bed, above his head, wrists held together with a glowing blue energy. Steve gnawed on his bottom lip as his cock twitched heavily, a fat bead of pre-cum seeping from the tip, as you crawled up the bed, onto Steve’s lap, his cock now in your hand.

You pushed up to your knees and worked his cock between your damp folds, watching as Steve’s eyes rolled back as your slick coated him. With a shift of your hips, you started to take him in, agonizingly slow, relishing in the burn of being stretched out by Steve’s cock. Your power flickered against Steve’s wrists, pulling a surprised gasp from the super soldier. Once you had taken every inch of Steve, your hands fell to his broad chest and your back curved as unbridled and carnal need roared through your veins.

Steve was a man that liked to be in control, on the battlefield, mainly, but in the bedroom, the reigns were in your hands; he was at your mercy. There was a tone of desperation in Steve’s voice when he moaned your name, he wanted you to fuck him, and fuck him hard. Who were you to deny someone something so simple as pleasure?

You found yourself unable to not stare at the super soldier between your legs as you fucked him. He would trap that full bottom lip between his teeth and moan at the sight of you taking his cock, at the sight of your hands on your breasts, fondling them, twisting your painfully hard nipples, at the wet slaps of skin as your bodies met repeatedly.

He would murmur praises of how tight your pussy was, how well you took him. He would beg to touch you, for you to fuck him harder, faster, slower, “I don’t wanna cum yet, doll.” With your senses on overload, and the orgasm bearing down on you like a freight train, the invisible bonds on Steve’s wrists started to weaken.

When you unravelled, coming unglued at the seams, screaming his name like a mantra, Steve’s wrists were freed. He snarled and flipped you to your back, his cock never leaving your spasming pussy. He had one arm under you, his hand clamping onto your shoulder, his thighs spread, opening you wide, his knees into the bed, using every ounce of strength he had to fuck you into oblivion. His shoulders bowed with every determined thrust, driving himself balls deep until he found his release, his shouts muffled only because his mouth was on your shoulder, teeth almost breaking the surface, tongue flicking your skin.

It wasn’t until Steve rolled over, a shuddering sigh leaving the pair of you at the loss of contact, that you realized the headboard was busted, as was the bedframe.

“Looks like I’ll be needing a new bed,” you chuckled, slapping a hand onto Steve’s stomach. “Way to go, Cap.”

“Uh uh,” he argued, his chest heaving as he pushed up to his elbow. “That was all you.”

You snorted and rolled your eyes. “I’m not the one with super soldier serum pumping through their veins,” you shot back, pushing off the bed. You looked over your shoulder and caught him ogling your ass, which you didn’t dislike.

“Where you goin?” he asked as you stepped into the bathroom.

You turned on the shower before answering. “Get your ass in here and help me break something else.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he murmured, grinning to himself as he shot off the bed.

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