#cap x reader

You felt hurt and torn apart. You couldn’t begin to understand why he had uttered those words to you just before he left the apartment, duffel bag full of his belongings slung over his shoulder, frown splattered across his face. He could hardly even look at you as you nodded in silence, trying to figure out where this sudden neglecting feeling had come from.

The two of you had been going strong for over two years. Even after he left for months on end trying to locate Bucky in Romania after the accords had sprung up splitting the team apart,

You had woken up in Steve’s arms every morning, splattering kisses along his jawline and broad shoulders, showing him that you loved and adored him and that you’d be next to him through everything.

So what had gone wrong? Why had he suddenly felt  nothing towards you? What had you done to bring on this heartbreak?

Truth was, he needed space. He felt destroyed inside, even years after he had woken up in this new world. It was a world he couldn’t understand. He was living in a century that he couldn’t grasp. He had Bucky, sure. But hardly. Bucky had been sent straight to Wakanda for safety.

So he lost his best friend almost immediately after he had found him again. He lost Peggy. He lost Tony. He lost Natasha. He couldn’t afford to lose you, too. So he spoke those words, knowing how much it hurt him to say them. They weren’t true. He loved you dearly. He wanted nothing more than to run back to you and kiss you and grovel to you, asking for you back.

But he was broken. And he couldn’t handle it if you had torn away from him, just as everyone else in his life had done. So he walked away, regretting every step he took farther away from your safe embrace.

It was just the two of you tonight in his apartment as you two lounged in the living room. Finally, one of the rare nights where the world wasn’t ending and you both weren’t on a mission. And because of this, you were more than happy to hang out with your friend, Steve, sharing drinks on the couch.  

Six drinks in and this is what ultimately brought you to where you were now.

You felt relaxed as you leaned back against the couch armrest, facing Steve as he did the same. You’re not sure how the conversation happened or why but you two had been on enough life-threatening missions to openly talk about anything and everything.

“Really?” You asked your surprise clearly showing on your face as you looked at Steve in a new light. “Not even when you were on “tour” with show girls in the 40’s?” You asked and Steve’s blushed deepened as he shook his head, taking a sip of his drink instead of answering. “Sharon?” Your eyebrows raising suggestively.

“No,” he mumbled and you nodded your head, looking around his living room.

Steve watched as your lips curled into a mischievous grin and he was already ready to roll his eyes at whatever was about to come out of your mouth. “I’d think more women would jump at the opportunity to thank their Captain America for his service.” You teased coolly with a giggle. There was the eye roll.

“Hardy har har,” Steve said sarcastically which resulted in another round of giggles from you.

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry,” you smiled and grabbed the alcohol bottle off the coffee table, re-filling both of your drinks. “I’m just surprised you haven’t tried to-” your words made Steve’s blush return as he shook his head. “I mean, I bet if you asked, anyone would be more than happy to drop to their knees for you.”

You on your knees for Steve flashed across your mind as he took another sip from his drink. The thought caused a wetness to form between your thighs as you thought about how Steve would look with pleasure written all over his face because of you.

“Mhmm,” Steve’s hum brought you back to reality as he looked over at you with an amused look. “So, if I just say “suck my dick,” it would happen?” He said sarcastically.

Your silence caused him to tilt his head at you.

Alcohol. That’s what you blame when in a flash you found yourself moving, straddling his lap, as he looked up at you in surprise. Steve’s hands grasped the cushion under him as your hand went behind his neck, tilting his head up for you. “Only because you asked,” you teased softly and his eyes widened.

The way your name sounded on his lips as he gasped had your hips rolling instinctively in his lap. Both of you groaning at the friction as you felt Steve’s dick harden in anticipation. “Steve,” you said grabbing his attention. You couldn’t help but bite your lip from the way his blown pupils filled with lust stared back at you, “let me suck your dick.”

Steve full on groaned then, pulling you into a dominating kiss that left you both breathless. Your fingers curling around the nape of his neck as you grounded your hips down. His hands moved to the curve of your ass, guiding your movements as you trailed your kisses down his neck. His gasps fueling the warmth that was spreading between your thighs.

“Fuck, I need this off,” you mumbled unbuttoning his shirt, kissing the new exposed skin as Steve threw his shirt out of the way. Your teeth sunk into the curve of his neck awarding you a sharp inhale from Steve as he shuddered underneath you, his fingers digging into your ass. You moved back from your assault on his skin, humming appreciatively as you took a moment to enjoy the way he looked beneath you. He was leaning back into the couch, shirtless, his neck marked in a few spots with his lips slightly bruised from your kisses. Damn, he looked so good.

You moved from his lap entirely then, going onto your knees between his legs. Your smile, sinful, when your fingers made contact with his belt. Your smile widened into a smirk as Steve excitedly helped you take his jeans and boxers down before you pushed him back down on the couch.

He was big. Bigger than you’ve had before and you weren’t sure if it was because of the serum but either way, your mouth watered at his size.  You maintained eye contact with Steve as you wrapped your hand around his girth. Smirking at the way Steve groaned, dropping his head back and spreading his thighs further apart to give you more room.

You stroke his length in your hand, “You need to look at me, Captain.” Your words had another moan falling from his lips as his dick twitched in your palm. Half-lidded eyes fluttering as he looked down at you and your movements. “I knew you’d be good at following orders.” You teased and before he could say something witty back, you leaned your head down. Your tongue swiped over the head of dick, collecting the pre-cum on your tongue.

It was music to your ears the way he choked out your name from your actions. You shocked him further as you took his length deeper into your mouth, tongue massaging over the vein on the underside of his dick.

Steve groaned deeply as his length continued to disappear past your lips slowly. He was resisting the urge to buck his hips up towards your mouth and push your head further down his length. “Fuck,” he cursed and you rested your hands on top of his thighs as you moved back with a sly grin.

“Don’t be afraid to do what you want, Cap.” You hummed, your lips covered in a mixture of his cum and saliva as you licked your lips. “I can handle it.”

That was all he needed before his hand was in your hair guiding your face back down to suck on his cock. His thighs tensing as he pushed your head almost all the way down so that the head of his dick nudged the back of your throat.

This caused you to gag around his length and the sound and feel of it made him drop his head back in pleasure a pressure beginning to form in his abdomen. “Fuck, just like that, baby.” His words had you whining over length as he curled his fingers in your hair, guiding you up and down. “You feel so good,” he groaned and your fingers dug further into his thighs.

The praise and moans he made as you let him use you had your thighs clenching in need. You had to stop yourself from moving one of your hands between your legs as you watched the way his mouth dropped open in a low moan as your head continuing to bob up and down his length. You hummed reaching one of your hands to his balls, rolling them between your fingers as you wrapped your lips around just the head of his dick sucking sweetly.

The action caused his hips to stutter, the groan of your name practically coming out as growl as his hand pushed you further down his shaft. “I’m not going to last,” he choked out. His confession making you moan as you increased your movements, swallowing him down and pushing yourself further to take his entire length. Your throat contracting around him as you took a shaky breath through your nose.

And that was it. Watching you take his entire length fully pushed him over the edge as he unexpectedly came. Shooting his seed down your mouth.

You moved your head back up his length, continuing to suck, as your hand stroke the rest of his length to milk out every last drop as he panted above you. His dick twitching softly as you moved your mouth off of him, licking your lips. Your watery eyes met Steve’s glazed over ones.

Steve was lying awake in bed at three am, despite having been on a mission for the past four days and without sleep for the last three. Granted, he could go for a bit longer without rest than normal humans given the serum, but three whole days? Yeah he was pretty exhausted by now. Yet here he was, wide awake and staring at his ceiling. Rolling onto his back, he pushed the covers to his waist and put his arms behind his head. Sighing, he reached to pull out the draw of his bedside table and grabbed the small sketchbook inside, rooting around for his favourite pencil as well. 

5 days earlier

Steve had packed for the mission, triple checked all the weapons and familiarised himself with the vehicles that were to be used. Now he was just waiting. This part always made him antsy, nothing left to do but sit there until they left. And another reason to dislike this part, though, was about to be added to Steve’s list. 

You had been the daughter of one of the high tech doctor people that Steve still wasn’t entirely sure the jobs of, and had come to live in the tower about six months ago. Tony had ended up adopting you after discovering one of his employees had passed away and left only a two year old behind, and you had grown up with him but away from the tower. When you reached your mid 20’s, you had come to the tower while you ‘figured your life out’ and just decided you liked it here. Six months down the line, you were reluctant to leave your now-friends and were rather enjoying living at the tower as you worked at your new job. 

So here you were, standing in the kitchen and making lunch while Steve leaned against the counter next to the stove (next to you, really) and listened to Sam’s latest anecdote. 

“Okay okay so she’s stood on the corner and he comes barrelling at me with 20 pounds of mustard in his arms-” Steve grinned at his story, watching out the corner of his eye as you attempted to focus on your meal and not laugh at Sam-the last thing that man needed was more encouragement. As Sam reached the climax of his story, you turned to pour a glass of water from the tap behind Steve, and unfortunately decided to take a drink at the wrong time.

“-and this kid comes out of nowhere, rope in one hand and a melon in the other, hurls the melon over and starts lassoing the rope-” You spluttered into your cup, laugh turning into a cough as you inhaled rather than drank a bit too much water. Both men watched as you sneezed and spilled a large amount of water down the front of your white shirt-Steve cackling at you and Sam’s eyes brimming with tears. 

“Cmon-oh boy-cmon I’ll help you clean it up-” 

“Nah nah finish your story I’ll get this-” Reaching for the paper towels you cleared up the water spilt on the counter in front of you and around the stove, then began dabbing at your clothes to mop up the excess liquid. Steve stopped laughing. 

He swallowed and watched as the wet fabric clung to your skin, your dabbing only succeeding in plastering it to the swell of your cleavage. He turned back to Sam, smiling and pretending he wasn’t ogling you. You tutted at the mess you’d made, throwing away the paper towels in favour of grabbing the tea towel from Steve’s shoulder. As you moved your hand away from your top, he coughed lightly, trying to avoid looking at what was very obviously a black lace bra underneath-not padded either, based on the way he could suddenly see your nipples straining against the material. 

Tea towel in hand, you sunk to your knees and started to clear up the water on the floor, inadvertently giving Steve a very good look down your shirt. You didn’t think you had even spilled that much but it had splashed behind his feet somehow and you shifted forward on your knees to manoeuvre your arm behind his legs, still listening to Sam’s tale as you did so. At the feeling of your hands brushing against his calves, the grip on his mug tightened, trying not to give anything away as he laughed randomly at the story again. 

You finished mopping the spillage up, and reached up to drop the wet rag onto the counter. Sam recounted a particularly confusing part at that moment, and you looked up with a curious “I’m sorry what?” on your tongue. Steve looked down as you spoke, and a small crack came from the mug in his hand. The way you had shifted to clean up meant that you were now sitting back on your heels, one of his feet partially between your knees, white shirt soaked and see through, clinging to your soft breasts and an innocent, inquisitive expression on your face as you looked up. Christ-your hands were even resting on the tops of your thighs, and it felt like he was looking at the best view he’d ever seen. The very picture of obedience.

He had apparently zoned out as he looked down at you, and he blinked as he heard you and Sam laughing together about something. You sprang back to your feet and Steve coughed at the sheer bounce, and then felt his jaw go a little slack. He usually prided himself on being in control, knowing the limits of his body and being able to withstand unbelievable amounts of pressure, torture and pain. Apparently, a stray water droplet slipping from your neck and down past your collarbone, disappearing into your cleavage was too much though. Who knew that would be his breaking point? He mumbled out an excuse about preparing his suit for the mission tomorrow, set his mug down-probably cracking the counter top-and walked slowly out of the kitchen. 

“Steve? Steeeeve?”

Except he couldn’t leave while you were calling his name like that, like you needed something from him. He looked back and raised his eyebrows, asking silently.

“Is there any chance, maybe, that you could, possibly, if it suits you, stopinatthatbakerywiththebrowniesIreallylikeonthewaybackfromyourmissiononFriday?”

Steve smiled at you, he should have known-always that goddamn bakery. And always a request for brownies from there if their mission wasn’t too long and they wouldn’t forget. Before he could reply you took a couple of steps towards him and started begging again.

“Please? Pretty please? I’ll do something for you! Anything you want, Cap.” Jesus did you want him to fuck you in the communal kitchen-with Sam there?!? “Anything you want, Cap.” He needed to get somewhere private, quick.

presently

Steve flipped past all the other drawings of you-one of you holding the bouquet of flowers Tony had given you the week before, one of you wearing his shirt with your hand between your legs, one of you in that red sundress he loved so much, one of you on all fours with your faced pressed into a pillow-and stopped at an empty page. He briefly thinks if you ever find this, he’s just going to shoot himself in the face. Or maybe in the dick, then in the face. 

He twirled the pencil for a couple of seconds, then put the tip to the paper, sliding confidently along it. He drew two legs, two thighs spread open as if he was looking down at his own. Adding the details in of the jeans he thinks he was wearing four days ago, he began sketching the fly of the trousers, unzipped and pulled open. Steve paused for a second after finishing that, pencil hovering a couple of centimetres above the paper before he pressed back down again lightly. The lead skated over the paper, drawing in the shape of your face situated between his thighs. He moved to your hair before adding any other features to you, tilting his head as he debated which direction to go in. Ah well, nothing wrong with what his fantasies seemed to be gunning for-he sketched your hair pulled back, adding in a few flyaways and locks escaping to hang down by your cheeks. 

His hips shifted where he was sitting on his bed, getting slightly uncomfortable, and he began to draw his hand fisted in the hair that was pulled back. The pencil was moving almost without thought now, shading in the tendrils of hair wrapped around Steve’s thick fingers. He pressed his lips together as he began on your facial features, drawing the lines of your cheekbones and the flush he imagined decorating them. Hesitating again, he looked at the blank space he was about to draw your plush lips in. It’s not that he hated seeing himself or thought he was ugly-no he knew that many many people considered him very attractive (god willing so did you) and he was extremely lucky to look the way he did. But he never really drew himself-it just seemed narcissistic. Especially if the drawing was of you-it was one thing to put pencil to paper and get out his thoughts of you but it was another thing entirely to draw porn of the both of you without you knowing. 

He thought back, though, and his mind was suddenly filled with the image of you on your knees before him, looking placidly up and just waiting for his next move-images of your soaked shirt and the shape of the lace containing your breasts. He cleared his throat and gripped his pencil tighter, starting to outline his shaft jutting forward towards your face. Though he wanted to spend as little time as possible sketching his own genitals, he couldn’t help but slow as he added in the thick vein he always traced when he wrapped his own around himself (always to thoughts of you but that’s a whole different matter) and his mind wandered, fantasising about how you might lick a long strip from base to tip, tracing your tongue over the vein if he asked you to. 

As his pencil moved further up, he started on the shape of your lips stretched around his girth, saliva drooling out of your mouth as you struggled to take him. Steve imagined you would try as hard as you could, swallowing around him and pulling back to swirl the tip of your tongue around the slit when you couldn’t manage. He pictures how you would want him to press your head down further anyway, sliding deeper into your throat as spit dribbled messily onto his jeans. He draws your nose next, barely spending any time on it in his haste to depict your eyes. In his dreams, images of you come unbidden to him-the sight of your eyes wide and round, curiously looking at him like he could say anything and you would believe it. Sometimes a team member will say something unnecessarily dark about a mission and your gaze finds his across the room-doe eyed innocence immediately looking to him for answers. He inevitably wakes up scolding himself, because his next thought is always of your eyes brimming with tears. He drew them as he thought about his dreams, and did his best to illustrate the glassy look he’s desperate to see in them. Sometimes when he’s alone, in the shower usually, he’ll imagine the tears that would collect in your waterline, so overstimulated and fucked dumb by him that he can practically see his reflection in them as he pushes his cock into you over and over again. 

Steve finished his drawing with a single tear on your cheek, escaping at the fullness of his length sitting heavy in your throat, and he sighed defeatedly, scrubbing a hand over his face before shoving it down to undo the strings on his sweats.

Steve loves going down on you.

It was one of the first things he’d wanted to explore when you’d taken your relationship to the next level. He had this innocent curiosity mixed with a fierce desire to please you that made your heart flutter. And he understood perfectly that individuals had their own preferences and he’d set about learning yours with breathtaking determination. Steve took his time. He asked for feedback and when you gave it, praised you for being so open with him.

Soon, you were trembling and bucking, crying out as he’d worked you over with each stroke. The look of amazement of his eyes after you’d orgasmed made your skin heat, just from the memory. This experiment, the first attempt he’d ever made into using his mouth on a woman, turned into an addiction.

He continued to learn, educating himself with enthusiastic practice. The right pressure with his tongue, how wet did you need to be before he used his fingers? What was the right pace to rub your g-spot? Did you like the roughness of a vigorous finger fucking or should he tease you, languid and slow? When he learned to suckle the tender bundle of nerves at the apex of your thighs, you got an education of your own.

Noises you’d never heard yourself make came out of you. The orgasms he could create would knock you flat and leave you shaking for hours. He experimented with adding his fingers and you squirted for him. Steve turned savage when you unraveled completely, soaking his hand for the first time. He’d flung you over, onto your belly, wrapped his arm around your hips and lifted. Dangling in his grasp and shaking like a leaf, you’d given him two more gushing orgasms. When he put you down you went limp. The invasion of his cock had startled you back to reality. His girth split the quivering muscles of your channel. Usually he was careful about entering you but in that moment he was vibrating with need. His cock felt like it was a thousand degrees inside of your dripping pussy, which swallowed him eagerly. Steve groaned and began to rock his hips. The movement ground his cock into your g-spot. A forth release flowed out of you and he’d climaxed hard, his body slamming deep as the climax tore through him.

He took all his research notes and drew the conclusion that your best pleasure depended on oral sex as foreplay. Steve then presented a secondary theory to you, his blue eyes gleaming with wicked charm. Your first climax of the night could only be considered ‘foreplay’ and it didn’t count towards your official total. He had a thing about totals. Since you’d been dating, he was seeking after a personal best. At this point you’re the only thing standing in the way of him and double digits. The reclassification of your orgasms and separating off what “counts” and what’s “just foreplay” is a thinly veiled attempt to get you past your limits. At his declaration, your knees shake. Steve sees the tremor and smirks.

“I promise to give you plenty of time to recover, doll.”

“You assume that I’ll be able to recover! You’re determined to fry my brain, aren’t you?”

Steve’s smirk grows wider. “Honey, I already have. Later tonight, when I give you that tenth orgasm? That’s when I’m going to melt your brain.”

He wraps his arms around you from behind.His support is necessary, because your head is spinning so wildly that you can’t quite keep your balance anymore.

All debate and teasing aside, Steve is gentle and warm with you. He’s an innate protector. This trait makes you feel secure and as you feel his strong arms clasp your ribs, you realize that it’s just a matter of time before he gets to the double digits.

Three hours later, his blond head is buried between your thighs and you can feel your heartbeat pounding through every blood vessel. Steve kisses your dewy clit and smiles at your tortured moan. His wet tongue grinds into the throbbing bud as his fingers curl inside of you. When he starts to suck with firm pressure, swirling his fingers and growling, you gasp.

Your knees jerk up to close around his head but he wedged his arm over your leg a long time ago. His heavy bicep keeps you pinned.

“You like that, doll?” Steve asks, popping off your clit and grinning.

You whimper, overstimulated even by his breath against your swollen bud.

He chuckles, amused at your lack of reply. Then he sinks down and delves into your channel with his thick tongue.

Steve explores the cavern with sensual interest and then purrs.

“Honey, you’re so tasty. And the creamy mess you’re making for me is the sweetest thing I’ve ever had.”

“Please!”

He grunts, stroking your thigh. “Let me lick this up, and then I’ll give you what you need.”

Your toes curl as he does just that. Once he’s slurped up the last of your creamy juices, he attacks your throbbing clit with a feverish need. Your legs go stiff and then you’re sobbing with release. He’s wild in the face of your pleasure, sucking harder and pushing his fingers deeper. The orgasm blurs as a second crashes into you when he keeps going. You struggle in his grip, pulling his hair, desperate to get him off of you, but he’s immovable.

Steve clenches his arms around your leg, holding you open. He’s rubbing on your sensitive little button with his tongue and panting - the breaths tease your flesh and you shiver.

“Give me another. I want to hear you wail again.”

A shudder rolls through you. It’s the start of another climax, brought on by his words. They’re a reminder of the three day weekend you spent at his apartment after he asked to try oral. He refused your offer to go all the way and asked that you let him focus on learning one skill at a time. That night and the next three days were sent with your legs spread as he tried out every position imaginable to eat you out. He’d even gotten you relaxed enough to try sitting on his face.

The trouble is that to get to the point where you’re willing to try this position, he’s had to work you over until you're shaking. It’s not from just one orgasm but from the previous four. You’re still dizzy and as you mount his head, you can feel your thigh muscles quivering. When the pleasure arcs it bursts up your spine and rockets through your legs. As the climax ripples over your nerve endings, your muscles give out. Immediately, you jerk back, scrambling as your uncooperative limbs flail. Steve grasps your hips and holds you tight, diving in for more without a second of hesitation. You learn that supersoldiers are a species of man not easily broken. Face sitting gets added to your list of positions and Steve preens. He’s set a goal to get you comfortable with everything, even the kinky stuff you’ve hesitated to try in the past.

He needs to try all of your kinks and learn every trick a man can use to please a woman. Steve intends to be using this knowledge for a very long time. And practice makes perfect, he says, tugging gently on your knee. Break time is over now that you’ve caught your breath. He guides your legs open for the sixth round and only pauses to murmur a few soft assurances when you start crying. The record number of orgasms is set during that weekend. In total he gets nine of them on Sunday during his “review” of all the most effective techniques.

- - - - - - - - -

Oral sex is a shock for Steve. Not giving it - that one is somehow more comfortable - but receiving oral surprises him. He knew what it was as a young man but it wasn’t until he ended up in France that he learned about the practice on an explicit level. Hanging out at a campfire with a Frenchman who didn’t mind sharing his sexual escapes was an eye opener. Most of the American Commandos had never done anything along those lines. The European members of their unit considered oral sex as common place. This had caused quite the stir among their ranks. Steve had received a blow job before the war, but he didn’t share those details with his men. Steve wasn’t a sharer when it came to his private life and that extended to sexual encounters, too.

Despite dipping his toes into the pool once, Steve remains uncomfortable about having you go down on him. The serum made him thicker and longer and he knew oral would be a challenge. In your era the proliferation of pornography made oral sex a requirement. Steve had never had such expectations. So, he decides to head off any discomfort you might feel about serving him in that way by insisting he preferred being inside of you. There’s more of a connection for him like that and he enjoys seeing your face and kissing you. Everything he says is true. But he doesn’t tell you that it’s actually because he’s uncomfortable receiving oral.

You’re not supposed to figure it out. But you do.

Steve breaks down and explains. He tells you his experience with blow jobs and that he had one before. But in public were treated as a joke, used to degrade women when he was in high school. The bullies used explicit sexual comments to make girls uncomfortable. Only a certain type of guy talked about blow jobs, and it wasn’t the honorable ones. Worse, there was a subset who made their women do that for them. He’d come to think of it as abusive, until the night he lost his virginity. The woman he was with offered and took his surprise as willingness. It felt amazing but he doubts it was good for her. His girth is too wide and the thrust of his hips, as hard as he’d tried to hold back, couldn’t have felt nice. Europe also taught him a different perspective on the practice but he still didn’t feel good about it. The attitude of the boys in Brooklyn, the ones who’d been crude and mean, stuck in his mind.

Steve’s distress is clear to see. This makes you hold off on pushing for more because you can tell how much it bothers him. He’s learned about sex in a very different era than the one you grew up in. After some thought, you decide that Steve’s experiences need to be challenged. He deserves all the attention and pleasure you can give him. He deserved the whole world but all you have to offer is your body. Knowing your boyfriend, that should suit him just fine.

First, you make sure your oral skills are up to the task. He has a point about his size. A few clicks on the internet and $5.78 for overnight delivery gets you a similar model to practice with. Steve is worried enough about this that you don’t want to show up unprepared. He’s thick but it’s the length that threatens you. When you take him in the cowgirl position, his tip presses fully against your cervix. The intensity of it is something you’re only starting to get used to.

A week of practice gets your confidence up and helps you figure out how to deal with the challenges of his size. When you tell Steve that you want to try focusing on him for a change, he’s willing. Your reaction to his explanation had been festering. He’d seen how sad it made you that he didn’t want to explore all the possibilities of pleasure with you. In the ensuing days, he’d been haunted by new worries. He thinks about how being cut off from using his mouth on you would feel. It wasn’t the same thing. But he’s thought about it enough that he at least wants to try.

Sucking his cock only allows you to cover half of him. You have to use your hands on the rest. Steve groans and goes tense as you figure out what he likes most. His abdomen is taut with desire and his shallow breathing makes you feel like a goddess. The single minded pursuit he applies when giving you pleasure inspires your efforts. He’s gasping when you turn your attention to the spot on the underside of his cock where the shaft and glans meet. As you stroke your thumb over those concentrated nerves, he bucks into your hand. The feeling of complete power floods your mind. Seeing him wrapped up in utter pleasure, his chest damp with sweat and his cheeks flushed made you dizzy with power. Dropping your head to his leaking tip, you slowly suck him dry, taking orgasm after orgasm from his enhanced body. When you’re done, Steve is lax. His eyes are half lidded and as you curl up against his side like a kitten, he slurs his words trying to thank you. Joy curls in your chest like the blossom of a flower opening in springtime. You’re content to relax with him but his hands wander over your body. He reached down and his fingers glide between your thighs. They’re an absolute mess. Steve is a beautiful man and his helpless reactions did incredible things to your body.

His fingers slip into your heat without resistance. You’re so wet the juices are running down your inner thighs. It’s absolutely soaked - ‘wet’ doesn’t even begin to cover how much your pussy drooled while you focused on him. His fingers sink into you, welcoming the invasion with greedy muscles that snap tight on the digits.

“Sweetheart, you’re so fucking wet.”

He’s breathless at the discovery.

“You taste so good, Stevie. I love feeling you in my mouth and having your hands in my hair.”

“Fuck. You like it this much?”

His fingers tease your folds, exploring the slippery crevices as he stares at you in shock. You tilt your hips into his hand and moan.

“Don’t ask, just use your fingers. I swear, I’ll cum in less than a minute.”

Steve’s nostrils flare. Then he does as he’s told. You clench your arms around his neck, struggling in the grip of a vicious orgasm as his fingers wreck you. When it finishes, he draws you close and presses his forehead to yours. Your legs are like jello and the urge for sleep is overwhelming.

“Why do you like that so much? I thought women only did it to please their men. Pressuring you into something you wouldn’t like turned me off, but you’re so responsive. You’re so wet, it feels like I already ate you out.”

“It’s a power trip,” you slur, still in a daze.

“It’s not… degrading for you?”

You twist to look at him and frown.

“It’s degrading if you’re with someone who’s too rough about it. But you’re a complete gentleman. I want you to know what it’s like to lay back, relax, and enjoy. Being able to knock everything out of a man’s head is a powerful thing for a woman. For those of us who like blow jobs, that's usually the motivation.”

“I didn’t realize what it did for you.”

“You’ve tried out every single pussy eating technique known to man. Why?”

“It’s my responsibility. I need to satisfy you. If I couldn’t do that, I’d be devastated.”

You tilt your head. “But it’s multiple orgasms. One would satisfy me. Why keep going?”

“Baby, you’re capable of so much more pleasure. I love seeing you…” His eyes brighten as realization dawns. “Damn it, honey you could have just explained.”

“Demonstrating was much more fun.”

- - - - - - - -

His favorite time to receive oral is when he’s just come back from a mission. Exhausted, he falls into bed, but the adrenaline won’t let him fall asleep. His body responds to the excess hormones, causing a painful hard on between his legs. Prior to your relationship, Steve hated times like this. He’s too tired to jack off. He doesn’t even want to move. When you come to bed and curl around him, the urgent need is the first thing you feel.

“Steve… aren’t you supposed to be asleep?”

“I can’t.”

His voice is rough with sleep. Even in the midst of a post adrenaline rush, he’s so worn out that he’s dozing, half awake and half asleep. The throbbing in his groin is the only reason he’s not unconscious.

Your hand slips into his boxers and wraps around his length. Even weak with exhaustion, he ruts into your hand and moans. The arch of his hips is uncontrollable.

“Fuck, baby. You feel so good,” he moans.

“Is this the problem? Hmmm… is this why you can’t sleep?”

“Ugh…” Steve rolls his body into your touch.

It always makes you smile softly at his relaxed face, the lower half slack with sleep and pleasure while his brow wrinkles with need.

“Do you need me to help you out, baby?”

“Please, doll. I need you.”

“Okay, let me see what I can do.”

You shove his boxers down just enough to free the aching erection. When your tongue strokes across the underside and up to the tip, where you swirl the drops of pre-cum away, Steve whines. When he’s nearly passed out his vocalizations are raw. You revel in his desperate sounds as you take him into your mouth. Your ministrations are slow, wet, and gentle. He’s hypersensitive in the post adrenaline state and you’re careful not to be too rough.

It never lasts long - he’s past holding back and the sensation is heightened for him. Your hand wraps around his base and you suck slowly on the tip. He empties himself after less than two minutes. When he cums, he groans and the muscles in his abdomen twitch. You swallow his release and feel his body go limp. He’s already drifting into sleep as you tug his boxers back up and curl around him. A heavy arm settles around your waist and he turns, slipping his leg between yours and burrows into you. Wrapping your arms around his back, all you can think about is how much you love him.

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Next Letter - P is for Pace

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Steve Rogers Alphabet masterlist

Masterlist

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Tag List: You must confirm you are over 18 before | will tag you on explicit content.

“What is what?“ you asked confused and tried to follow his sight of line and looked at your stomach.  

“Your backpack?“ he cleared and you turned around again so he could get a closer look. 

“It’s cute, isn’t it?“ The top was blue with little white stars over it, some white and red stripes covering the side pockets and a bear in front of it holding a shield – his shield. The words Super Cream Bear stood next to them and the bear was wearing glasses. When he failed to reply you asked him if he didn’t like it. 

“It’s…. sweetheart, I’m walking right next to you,“ he finally said. 

“So what?“ you faced him again. “I fell in love with this backpack. It’s so cute and I really like it. Also, it shows my favorite person – kind of, so why not. No one knows I’m walking next to Captain America,“ you tipped the top of his baseball cap that covered his hair, “and wearing his merch. If it makes you that uncomfortable, I would get a new bag, but I’d rather not.“ 

“No, please keep it on. You’re right, I was just thinking that people might think I make you wear it,“ he shrugged. 

“Since when do you care what people think?“ You took his big hand in yours. 

“Since it involves you,“ he mumbled and kissed your forehead. 

“Aren’t you the cutest? But as I said, I really like this backpack.“ 

„Okay, let’s go then,“ his fingers closed around yours and the two of you continued your way. 

But the backpack was just the beginning. You really loved that one and of course his teammates saw it. The teasing was endless, the old man jokes because of the glasses didn’t seem to end. But Steve could have handled all of that if his friends would just leave it like that. But of course they didn’t. 

As the relationship grew and you spent more and more time at the tower and with his friends, the more the collection of Captain America merchandise grew. It first started with a mug Sam gifted you. It said „America’s Ass“ and there was a drawing of his ass on it in his suit. Steve expected a laugh and nothing more. Not for you to use that mug all the time and throwing a wink his way when he noticed it. 

Next came a Captain America blanket. He didn’t know who brought it, but every time you stayed over and stayed for a while in the common room it somehow ended up laying beside you until you snuggled up into it. 

Or the one time you thought Steve couldn’t get redder when someone had put a picture of Steve with the words „Wrap it up, Son. Don’t go in without a shield!“ on a pack of condoms and placed it on the counter for everyone to see. Steve’s face only made you all laugh louder. 

One morning someone made Captain America waffles and the next day there stood an Iron Man coffee maker next to the Captain America waffle maker. The coffee tasted like shit next to the expensive machine, but Tony made a show of using it every morning. 

Steve had looked forward to your birthday and actually planned a one-day vacation when his friends destroyed his plans. He should be glad that you liked each other as Steve planned for you to stick around. But he knew that he wouldn’t like the presents you would get from then – he just knew it! But you were happy that they wanted to celebrate with you and Steve would do anything to make you happy. Even if it meant he would suffer. He would take you on vacation another day. 

Steve had to admit it was a nice party. It was just his friends and you; the dinner was nice and the atmosphere so good, that Bucky even twirled you around on your way to the seating area, which caused you both had to laugh and he didn’t think he could get happier. This was where you belonged and he was glad that his best friend liked you so much. Steve’s smile stayed on his face as he took a seat next to you – until you unwrapped your presents. 

Steve knew there was merchandise out there – of course. He was often asked to sign it. And with most of it he didn’t have a problem. But he didn’t know to what extend this was getting. He really hoped you wouldn’t wear the “Captain America is my boyfriend” shirt. 

“Be glad they didn’t buy the Avengers panty set,” Natasha said and his head turned around so fast. 

“There is stuff like that?” he asked bewildered and she just nodded while she told him it did include ones with his shield and also Tonys helmet. Steve was sure he would have burned the red pair before you even had the chance to wear that. Sure, he thought it was kind of cute ridiculous that you wore his merchandise, but imagining you in stuff of the other ones? 

“You okay?” you asked him after a while when it was quieter and every present was unwrapped. Steves big arms pulled you over on his lap and he buried his head into your neck. 

“I am now,” he mumbled and his breath on your skin made you laugh quietly. 

“I won’t use any of this stuff, if it’s upsets you,” you offered. “Although I can wear that shirt to sleep, so only you would see it. I mean, it isn’t a lie,” you shrugged and snuggled closer in his embrace. 

“That would be okay, I think,” he agreed. He would do anything to make you happy! 

“So, Odinson, how’s New Asgard since I was last there? Valkyrie promised me a holiday and Korg owes me a remashf!” you direct to the blonde laid out across from you, taking a mouthful of your favourite dessert. The God of Thunder’s reply was cut short however, by the sound of the two super soldiers charging into the common area, Bucky’s head firmly under his friend’s arm before he escaped and threw himself behind your sofa.

“Rescue me Y/N he’s got it in for me!” was the not so manly cry that came over your shoulder as the two of you fell about laughing, ignorant to the companion who had skidded to a stop in front of you.

Only Steve’s attempt at quiet retreating footsteps brought you to your senses, as you once again had to watch the back of your partner as he left. With a dramatic huff of distress, you flopped down against the sofa and into Bucky’s lap where he had settled himself.

“Will somebody PLEASE enlighten me on what I or somebody else has done to the lovely cuddly Steve bloody Rogers before I disintegrate?!”

Having had all afternoon and now a fresh incident to muse on, Natasha ventured her newest conspiracy on the subject with a cackle that had her nearly knocking poor Sam’s beer out of his hand. “Of all the people I never took Mr Freedom Fossil himself to be a jealous person!” This cleared the situation up for absolutely nobody, the entire room now looking to the redhead in varying states of confusion, with frowns and raised eyebrows inviting her to elaborate. “What top did you wear to training today Y/N?” “I don’t know? I’ve just about gained back the ability to breathe after you knocked me on my ass six times!” Rolling her eyes, your friend leaned forward to gesture at your current attire, “it was the Spiderman one from Peter’s birthday, and the other day? When he missed you and Wanda at lunch? The Falcon hoodie Wilson had made after Bucky made another jab at redwing.”

It took Sam, Bruce, Clint and even Thor beginning to guffaw at your expense for your own eyes to go wide with realisation. “YOU HAVE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME – I’m being avoided because I’ve essentially collected Avengers team merch?!” Content in getting to the bottom of the mystery, Nat perched next to Wanda to open a new bottle while the others tittered into their food or cushions before moving onto the next game to be had. Bucky had gone a deep shade of pink in his attempts to stop himself from bursting into even bigger peals of laughter at his oldest friend’s antics whilst gesturing wildly that you should follow him to maybe shake some sense into his broad shoulders and hard head.

Leaving your very unhelpful friends to their revelry, you found your feet taking you back to Steve’s old room where he’d once taken to hiding during some of Tony’s more rambunctious parties. Sure enough, the door was ajar, allowing you sight across to where the man stood leaning against the windowpane looking out to the city below. Closing the door behind you both, you padded lightly into the room until you could wrap your arms around Steve’s waist to rest your head against his muscular back. Feeling him tense and then relax into your touch reassured you that you wouldn’t be immediately ejected from the room.

“Stevie…?” “Hi sweetheart.” “If I take the sweater off will you come and eat something and give your girlfriend a damn cuddle?” you smirked into his shirt, pulling away to look at him. A small sigh emitted from the tall man as he turned to face you, cheeks dusted with a blush you’d rarely seen and almost missed in the darkened bedroom. He allowed you to pull him to the corridor but before you could go any further together he stopped abruptly, bringing you closer.

“Why don’t you wear my things?” his voice uncharacteristically quiet against your hair. “I think you’ll find the t-shirt under this was actually yours at one time Rogers…” “You know what I mean Y/N.” “The Cap stuff?? I think Bucky stole the first training tee you gifted me on that date to the fair but most importantly,” hoping to push your point home with a finger jabbed to his chest, “my lack of America merch might have something to do with the fact I have the real deal in my bed?” At this the captain went an even deeper shade of red and nuzzled further into your hair, pressing a kiss to your temple then cheek then your neck in apology.

“Guess I just like knowin’ your m’girl” he mumbles against your skin, leaving you blushing a matching shade.

“Always Stevie. Never in doubt. Though I always thought petty jealously to be more Tony’s thing than yours, green is not your colour babe.” Pressing a soft kiss to his pouting lips you push him away and down the corridor. “Eat, hydrate, apologise for being a drama queen. I’ll be there in a second.”

Once he was out of sight in the direction of the friends who would surely not let him live it down anytime soon, you slide down the hallway to stop in front of one James Barnes’ room. Natasha was great for training or partying, but Bucky held onto your combined stash of lazy night-in attire for such an evening as this. Rummaging through the back of the wardrobe (taking a mental note to at least get the man a potted plant for the place) you emerged triumphant with the object of your search.

Steve was about to get up and hunt you out again when the sudden noise of wolf whistling from the team around him drew the attention to the doorway. Striding as dramatically as possible into the living room, you’ve become enveloped from head to toe in the bright fluffy Captain America onesie Clint and Laura had presented you with at your first Christmas with a big old crush on the super soldier. With the hood up it even sported a fetching soft version of your love’s helmet, that dipped to your eye level.

When you struck your best power pose before dropping into the (truly terrible for your knees) superhero landing, laughter and eager applause filled the room. Pulling yourself back up to your feet, you sweep into bows directed at each corner of the room, beaming at the bemused blonde now seated next to his buddies before taking the opportunity to launch yourself into Steve’s lap.

“Captain Rogers.”

“Miss Y/L/N.”

“Reporting for love, kisses, and a little ribbing for being an idiot sir?”