Steve Rogers Drabble - Blog Posts

What do you think about exhibition kink ? And who do you think would have it, Buck or Steve?

👀

Pairing: Personal trainer/beefy Steve x reader

Warnings: Smut, Minors DNI, Steve is 6'4, praise kink, exhibition kink, degradation kink

A/N: As always do not copy, translate, rewrite or repost my works.

Co-owner of the infamous gym, the Brooklyn 107th and part-time boxer Steve has a huge exhibitionism kink.

A few weeks ago, he had the windows of his gym covered with a transparent plastic film that allows for his customers to work out without being seen by people on the street.

At least that's what he told everyone.

Really it's because he loves to fuck you in front of the ceiling to floor glass windows during your personal sessions.

He adored your body the second you stepped into his gym, asking if he could help you get in shape. He never offered personal training sessions until you.

And you were the only one who received his very special attention.

Your training sessions started off tame but the more he touched you, the more he craved you.

Soon your one-on-one sessions began to happen later and later because he wanted to spend time alone with you.

You made him nearly feral every time you worked out together. He couldn't stop thinking about all the filthy things he wanted to do to you.

The first time you softly grunted, the sound nearly sent him over the edge. He spent the entire hour hiding how hard he was.

Steve waited until you were in the parking lot before locking the doors, barely able to control himself before he reached the showers. His hand wrapped around his aching cock as he thought about how soft you felt as he helped you squat.

At night he dreamed about those sexy little grunts you made when you boxed or lifted weights, only in his mind you were making them because of him.

Steve tried to maintain his professionalism until one day he was in the middle of stretching your legs and he saw the wet spot forming on the crotch of your leggings.

His heart raced at the thought of you being as affected as he was.

You couldn't even feel embarrassed because he stared at it, at you with such lust you almost came right there on the yoga mat.

His eyes drifted up to your face and he bit his bottom lip as he gazed at you. Then his lips curled into a wide smirk. "Y'know I really should stretch all of you sweetheart."

Your hands slip, the pristine glass smudged by your sweat.

“God, please Steve, fuck fuck fuck fuck, I can’t.” The glass fogs up from your harsh, frantic pants, the condensation growing with each sob ripped from your throat. “Pleaseplease Steve.”

Steve growls in your ear, the feral sound making you whimper in response, another please falling from your lip.

“You can take it, you’re okay, take it, sweetheart.” Steve grits his teeth, his damp blonde hair plastered to his forehead. He’s never been in such a tight wet pussy, you have to take it because he can’t get enough of you.

You lean forward, pushing your forearms flat on the window, and pull yourself up on your tiptoes. No, you can’t, you can’t take anymore. It’s too good and fuuuck you can’t, you just need-Taking in a deep breath, you cry out in relief when your swollen cunt slides to the tip of his throbbing cock.

Your head lolls back and your pussy clenches down when you see his dark blue eyes glaring at you. Oh please, Steve. You thought you couldn’t get any wetter until you had 6’4 of pure tatted muscles behind you, his deep voice ringing in your ear “you better not run again sweetheart, take this cock like a big girl before I fuck you stupid.“

His wrapped hands grab your waist, his scarred, calloused fingertips dig into the soft dips of your hips, and he drops you back on his cock.

Pleasure bursts through your body so hard and fast, your legs collapse, your hands sliding down the window as you keen. Steve laughs when you wail his name, the thin high cries with each thrust making his cock even harder. One large, thick arm wraps around your waist and he pushes your body into the glass.

Steve’s hip snaps into yours over and over, the salacious sound echoing through the nearly empty gym. He slams his hand on the glass and grabs your chin with the other. Your dazed eyes rake over the busy street. The thin pane of glass is the only thing separating your naked body from the lunchtime rush of people outside.

“Look at them,” he pants in your ear, “wonder if they know what a cockdrunk little slut you are for me. My sweet little slut, so fucking good for me. “

Steve knows you love it when he talks to you like this, making you take every thick inch and praising you for doing so good. Your greedy pussy clamping down on him tighter and tighter with each filthy praise.

He slides his fingers down to your clit and rubs your aching bundle of nerves so softly, a sharp contrast to the way he’s pounding into your cunt.

“Want me to open one of the windows and let them see how good you are, taking my cock like the good fucking girl you are. You want that, sweetheart?”

You feel his deep laughter on your skin when you moan in response, too far gone to form coherent words. You’ll let him fuck you in the middle of the ring before his next match if he keeps doing that. More broken pleases, for him to stop, go deeper, just please Steve. Fuck you, don’t know what you want, only that it’s too much and you want more.

“That’s it, sweetheart, that’s how you take my cock, so fucking proud of you sweetheart, now let’s-“ Steve places his hand on your back and forces you into an arch and he hits a patch just inside your pussy and you see stars.

The windows rattle when you slap your hands on them, you don’t notice the people turning their heads in your direction, too overwhelmed by the sweltering heat blazing through your belly, the knot fraying and unraveling as you sob.

His name a chant on your tongue as you come hard, so hard it nearly hurts.

“Good girl,” he praises, groaning when your walls flutter around him. “That’s my girl.”

You slump against the cool glass as Steve continues to fuck you, his hips slapping into yours two, three more times before warmth coats your spasming walls. He kisses along the back of your neck, murmuring more praises as he pulls your trembling body from the window.

“Good warm-up sweetheart.” He nips your shoulder, his hands sliding around your belly. “Now it’s time for your cardio.”

Happy Sinday 😌

Pairing: Biker!Steve x Reader

Warnings: Oral (m receiving), smut, no minors.

A/N: Late sinday drabble.

It’s your hands that he notices first. Soft and warm on his hair-covered thighs. Always so soft. It’s how he knows it’s you. Nothing soft has touched his skin in years. Until you. Those warm, soft palms glide up his legs, over his stomach. He shifts into your touch, ridged curved muscles pushing into your fingertips.

“Please,” the word thick and rough in his throat drifts on his tongue, passing his lips in a coarse whisper. His mind, dull from sleep, barely registers your low hum in response.

Your lips trace over the faint freckles peppered along his sun-kissed skin, creating a map of him that only you’ll ever use. Your guide. A personalized key to unlocking his every weakness. The one right below his ear that makes him shudder when you sink your teeth into it. The one below his collarbone, near his colorful tattoo, makes him grit his teeth, hissing out a warning you’ll gleefully ignore.

But this one.

The one on his lower belly next to the thin vein leading down to his cock.

This one is your favorite.

You trace the pad of your finger around it, following the vein down down down his skin, watching his cock, heavy and long and thick, get bigger and bigger before your eyes. Resting your cheek on his thigh, you wrap your hand around his base, fuck he’s so thick your fingers and thumb aren’t even close to touching each other.

He makes a guttural sound in his throat. Long eyelashes fanning across his face, lips parting.

Please

Your hand stills, eyes flickering up to his face. He’s pulled under again, unable to resist the strong drag of exhaustion lingering in his bones. You want to ease his tired body, make him feel good, and you can’t resist the gravelly request escaping his mouth.

You stroke him, your hand moving up his firm, smooth length, your thumb brushing over the vein leading to his tip. You bring your hand down, pumping him firmly, squeezing him before going back up.

Once.

Please

Twice.

Please

Letting your thumb sweep over his swollen head, his hips jerk. You spread that little drop of precum over him, listening to his breath quicken, sleep-addled words falling unbidden from his mouth, nearly indiscernible.

Please

Taking mercy on him, you move until you’re hovering over him, placing a kiss on his leaking tip, you open your mouth, his taste melting on your tongue as you swallow him.

While your touch is enough to drive him to the brink of awareness, it’s your mouth, hot and wet, that pushes him over. You hollow your cheeks, slowly slowly dragging him out of your mouth. Bright blue eyes snap open, his lips part on a breathy faint moan, large hands grip the sheets. You meet his dazed gaze and draw him back, his thick cock heavy and warm, his vein brushing along your tongue. Pleasure like he never felt spikes through him, scorching heat spreading up his spine. He never knew he could feel so good, so incredible. Darkening stormy blue eyes flutter shut, plump lips go slack and his hands, his large calloused hands, find the back of your head, resting gently, letting you find your pace.

“Fuck yes. Just like that Dove. Please, sweetheart.” He makes another noise in his throat, deep satisfaction and need and lust rolling into one breathy plea. “Don’t stop. You’re doing so good. So fucking good for me.”

It could almost be vulgar, the way you’re taking every inch, every incredibly thick inch into your little mouth, the wet sounds you’re making, the soft gag when you take him deeper and deeper.

But it’s not.

It’s so damn erotic that he has to look away, too afraid of losing control, wanting to keep your tongue on him. He’s not that strong, not when it comes to you, the need to see you pulls his eyes back to your face, and oh fuck he can feel the sultry white-hot pleasure cresting higher, cracking away at his resolve.

He needs one more minute.

One more minute.

Fuckfuckfuck you’re so sweet and pretty, lips stretched around his cock, throat bulging, your little hand softly twisting around the part of him you can’t take down your throat.

Sweat beads along his hairline, thighs trembling, hold on for one more minute, he needs to feel you more than he needs to cum.

One more minute of pure heaven. Please

He’s so greedy for you. Fuck one more-

Steve can’t think. Barely getting enough air into his lungs. Because your eyes flit up to his and you moan.

“Dove you’re so good, so damn perfect,” he groans through gritted teeth, veins in his neck distended, his fingers dig into your scalp as he comes undone. “Shit oh fuck, fuuuck.”

He comes, hard and fast, spilling into your mouth. And he almost comes again, watching you swallow every last drop. Steve reaches for you, a feral grin tipping his lips. “Now it’s my turn--“

Beep. Beep. Beep.

The harsh grating alarm cuts through the air. Steve reluctantly opens his eyes, waiting for the ceiling to come into focus, rays of sunlight peeking through the cracks of his curtains.

“Fuck me,” he spits out, glaring at his stiff erection tenting the sheets slung around his thighs, the remnants of his dream clinging to him.

It felt so real. You felt real.

He could have sworn you were in bed with him. Dragging his hand down his face, he makes a frustrated noise before turning off his alarm. Steve sits up, swinging his long legs over the side of the bed, he drops his head down. He can’t take another wet dream like this. He’s going to ask you out.

Today.

You have had every piece of him wrapped around your little finger for weeks now. Now it’s time for you to know that you belong to him just as much as he belongs to you, little dove.

*****

And his next dream is about him returning the favor 🥴🥴🥴. Steve can't wait to make his dream a reality. But are you ready?

For more Steve/Dove content, click the link!

I Dream Of A Love That Even Time Will Be Still For

Keep my company while I write/work! Send in:

Main Masterlist-Mafia & Biker AUs Neighborly Behavior The only gift he wants The Morning After And then there were none It all belongs to yo

Do you think you could write about short sized! Reader working for Bruce banner as a lab assistant and Steve has a total crush on her.

Get A Life

You sat comfortably at your desk, analysing recent data on your computer screen. To an everyday person what would look like a jumbled mix of numbers and symbols to you made perfect sense. 

“Bruceee.”

“Ah-huh.” He responded, eye deep into a telescope.

“The optimal temperature for nuclear reaction is…” 

“100 million Kelvin… depends.”

“Figured.” You grumbled, nibbling on the end of a pen.

He rose from his stool, moving towards your desk and minimising the screen.

“This might sound hypocritical coming from me, but you need to get a social life.”

You re-opened the screen, eyes zoning in on him “This is social.” Gesturing between you both. 

“No this is work.” He minimised the screen again. 

“It’s a hobby.” You re-opened it,  

“That you get paid to do.” He minimised the screen once more.

Before you could continue your game of cat and mouse, a knock at the door caused both your heads to rise.

“Sorry to interrupt I just came to drop off these documents for Y/N.”

Your eyes darted up to the large frame leaning against the door, his blue eyes never leaving yours as he offered a soft smile, holding a thick manilla folder in his hands like it was nothing. 

“Oh yeah, okay, I was just about to go.” Bruce rose, walking past Steve.

Bruce raised his pointer finger at Steve, leaning in close and whispering while you were distracted by the screen in front of you “I…MIT won’t stop calling desperate for her to join so don’t… you know because I will go Hulk on your ass.” 

Steve gave him a respectful nod “I won’t.” 

“Good.” With a slap on the shoulder Bruce made his way out. 

Steve stalked towards you, placing the folder on your desk with a thud.

You skim through the contents only to find blank pages.

“These are all blank?”

“Yes, they are.”

“What… why would you… what?”

Steve’s hand rubbed the back of his head “I just wanted an excuse to come see you.” He smiled at you sheepishly. 

You sighed, rising from your desk making your way to the chemical cupboard with Steve close on your tail.

“I’m in the middle of making universe altering research breakthroughs Steven.” You thumbed through the walls of vials and chemicals.

Steven. Only you called him Steven. Not Rogers. Not Captain. Steven. And while he’d choke out anyone else who called him that besides his mother, he loved hearing his name fall from your lips. 

“Which is why I think you deserved a break.”

“Why is everyone so obsessed with me talking breaks around here?”

“Because you work the hardest.” You momentarily paused, turning your head over your shoulder, catching the sincerity on his face. 

“I’m not a superhero.” You shook your head. 

“You are, in a way…” He moved forward coming behind you as you reached upwards, pushing your weight onto your tippy toes to reach the container on the top shelf, your fingertips barely brushing it. Even in heeled boots you couldn’t even reach. 

With a swift motion, he placed his hand on your hip to pull you back slightly, raising his toned arm and grabbing the container effortlessly and handing it to you.

“I can’t even reach the top shelf.” Blush rose to your cheek at the feeling of his body so close to you. 

“Yes, but even superhero need help sometimes and more importantly… lives.”

“I have a life!” You moved out of his reach going back towards your desk. 

“When was the last time you had a beer with us? Or didn’t go into the lab for a day? Or went on a date?” He spat out.

You paused, turning on your heels, eyeing him.

“What do you want?” You said bluntly, crossing your arms over your full chest.

You were annoyed and he could tell. But he was absolutely obsessed with the way you looked in this moment, eyes piercing right into his soul through your glasses, your hair in a claw clip with strands sticking out and falling over your face. The tapping on your boot against the linoleum floor and the way your arms crossed pushed your chest together revealing a small sight of cleavage under your sweater. 

He shouldn’t have found it as sexy as he did. 

“I’d like you to take a break…”

You went to interject him and give him a 1000 reasons why you wouldn’t take a break until he finished…

“So, I can take you on a date.”

Your mouth fell agape but you were quick to recover with a sarcastic chuckle.

“Do you want me to warm up the CAT scan? Seems your brain has turned to mush from being in the ice so long.”

“Y/N please.”

“Steven, I don’t date.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s not scientific and it’s not logical, it’s unexplainable nonsense that drives women to insanity.”

He crooked an eyebrow up at you. “I don’t think you could get more insane than you already are if that helps.”

You rubbed your temples turning on your heels to go back to your desk until you felt a strong hang grab your wrist and pull you back into a hard chest. 

“Y/N, I see what you do day in day out for this team, and it doesn’t go unnoticed. But I also see how when you’re focused your eyebrows knot together, how I know which pencils are yours because of the bite marks on ends, how at the end of every day you let your hair fall out and you shake it with your hands, how the sweat drips down your chest and soaks your sports bras in the gym, how when you make a sly comment everyone laughs because you’re funny without realising and I can’t stop looking at you and I won’t but I desperately want to see what’s in your mind behind formulas and data because I know there’s more to you than that so if you would give me the pleasure I really REALLY want to be the social life you so desperately need. I see you, more than you know. And while it may not be mathematical, it makes perfectly calculated sense to me.”

You sucked in your lips, emotions swelling inside of you. His head bowed towards you, foreheads touching. 

“Please.”

You nodded unable to form words as his arms tightened around your waist, pulling you in as his lips lightly brushed yours, forcing you to relax in his grip and reciprocate the tender kiss.

“I’ll see you at 7pm - don’t be late.” He gave you final kiss on your forehead, walking out with a beaming smile. 

Leaving you in shock as you finally let out the breath you’ve been holding in and warmth spread throughout your body. 

Reader adopts a cat to help her boyfriend Captain America, Steve rogers deal with the trauma and nightmares

Soxs

You were woken up to thrashing beside you in bed. Third night in a row. Sweat formed on Steve’s forehead with his face contorted in terror. You rolled over, placing a light hand on his shoulder, he instantly moved into you.

“Hey hey, honey… it’s just a dream.” You patted his head softly as his eyes slowly blinked open.

He let out a large sigh, sitting up in bed and rubbing his face. 

“Same one?”

“Same one.” He said in a defeated tone.

You rubbed his back soothingly before getting up to get a glass of water from the sink. Handing it to him in bed.

“Thanks honey.” You sat next to him as he took a large gulp, turning back to cuddle into your comforting frame. 

As he gently lulled off to sleep in your arms, large arms wrapped around you. You mind wandered to all the things you could do to help your poor guy.

3 WEEKS LATER

You placed the gold box in front of Steve on the couch. Holes punctured in the top and a shiny red bow in the middle.

“What’s this?” He looked up at you curiously. 

“Open it.” You smiled, taking a spot next to him.

Steve inched forward, slowly taking off the lid and peering inside the box.

“Oh my goodness.” Steve’s eyes widen in joy at the little ball of fluff, sitting pretty. 

The calico kitten let out a small meow, standing on its hind legs and pawing at the walls, desperate to be picked up.

Steve took the small kitten in his large hands, encompassing it carefully as he brought it to his chest. The kitten immediately rubbed his ear against Steve’s jaw, purring at the contact.

“Y/N… you… you didn’t… omg I love him.”

“Her. And you’re welcome. I looked it up and the purr of a cat can help relaxation and healing. So, I thought maybe a couple of kitten kisses will help you sleep through the night.” You beamed at him, your hand going to scratch the little one’s head.

“Her. She’s the best gift I’ve ever gotten. I can’t believe you’d do that for me.” Tears started to form in the captain’s eyes as his heart burst at the ball of fluff. 

“Think of her as our first baby.” You winked.

“Gotta name her… what do you think she looks like… Esmerelda, Fluffy, Ariel?”

“How about Soxs.” You grabbed the kittens’ paw, admiring the pattern of fur that gave her four perfect little white blocks.

“Soxs. Perfect.” He turned to you, kissing you on the mouth softly.

The two became inseparable with Soxs taking up permanent position sleeping between your heads at night.

The nightmares stopped but Steve got even less sleep after being woken up at 4am to Soxs wanting breakfast.

She'd follow him everywhere, doing little walks between his legs.

The whole of Avengers loved her, with Stark acting like a villain whenever she'd sit in his lap.

Her favourite place to nap was the Avengers meeting table.

Steve would feed her little slices of ham at dinner, dangling it under the table for her to catch.

A/N: Short and sweet. 😘☘️