#but i could celebrate the 4th of july if it meant sucking off steve rogers next to a tree

[goodgirlofglory]

Hey bestie, Happy Fourth of July! ❤️🤍💙🦅

Aka, happy birthday Steven Grant Rogers. 🪖💪

Usually, my go to reads consist of Bucky, but today I am feeling patriotic. So my ask includes reader giving steve a sloppy toppy 😏 💦 under the fireworks after an eventful birthday

But not just any blowjob, this is the first one that steve has gotten in 70+ yrs because he’s a grandpa that didn’t venture out into the modern world until he met reader. So now, he really understands why Bucky enjoyed his time with the ladies back in the 40’s 🇺🇸

And this blowjob in particular has him gripping whatever he can in his fists, has him moaning like a little boy, his mouth drooling, his eyes rolling, his soul leaving his body. 🙉 and reader is just talking him through it like the good girl she is 😊

Anyways, thank you for listening to my slutty asks. I hope you have a good day/evening where you are!! 🌸❤️

Bestie!!!🫶🎀🦋

Happy birthday to both Steve Rogers and the US of A🎉🎉✨️✨️✨️🦅🦅🦅🦅🦅

I'm definitely in my Bucky corner nowadays too, but there's no hardship revisiting dear Stevie boy, so in the name of patriotism, here's a little somethin somethin😉😌

Absolutely LOVE the prompt (and your slutty asks are always a fav)!!! Things got a little out of hand, so Steve ended up reeeallyyy subby in this, but I kinda like it, don't you?

Enjoy, sweetie, have a good day/night wherever you are🫶🫶🦋

In the name of patriotism / One-shot

Pairing: Inexperienced!Sub!Steve Rogers x Experienced!Soft!Domme!reader

Word count: 2,5k

Warnings: SMUUUUTT, oral (m receiving), soft domme reader, semi-public sex (oral behind the trees while there’s a party in the garden, ball-sucking, deepthroating, messy head, cum swallowing woop woop, dirty talk. Steve is very subby in this.

Summary: See delicious prompt above

“A-are you sure you’re okay w-with missing the f-f-fire-w-works?” he asks again, breath significantly more labored than just a minute ago - when you’d pinned him to the tree and gotten on your bare knees in the grass. 

As you look up at his face, an explosion of glittering gold and red fireworks fills the sky above him, illuminating his strong nose, high cheekbones and blond hair tousled by his own hands raking through it. You consider his words, feeling his bulge throb under your hands - where you have them paused at his zipper. The belt you just undid hangs limp on each side of your hands, signaling how fucking close you are to the one thing you’ve been thinking about for the last hour. 

Another glittering explosion in the sky, this one gold and silver, and his chest is heaving. 

“View’s pretty great from here,” you say, preening as you see his furrowed expression break up in helpless laughter. He shaks his head a little, but his cock throbs again, betraying how he really feels about that comment. 

It was by pure chance you walked by as Steve said it. You’d been on your way back from the bathroom when you’d halted outside the living room in Sam’s house and heard the boy’s talk through the crack in the door.

“Wait, nothing?” Sam asked incredulously. 

Steve’s voice came a moment later, sounding sheepish and maybe a bit abashed. 

“No. Not since the war. Sure, a kiss here and there, but you know me. I don’t get out much,” Steve’d said apologetically, and the resigned way he said it had set something off inside you. 

If there were three thing Steve Rogers was not to feel, it was inadequate, undeserving and unsatisfied. It was the whole reason you’d planned this combined birthday and 4th of July-celebration, goddamn it. For Steve to feel celebrated and loved, surrounded by loved ones, doing things he enjoyed. It had been an absolute banger of an evening, and you just got the idea of how to make the night even better for him. Okay, so maybe it wasn’t completely selfless. You did have a big ol’ crush on the man. Who didn’t? And if he hadn’t had a single sexual encounter in 70+ years, you were the perfet candidate to change that. 

So here you are, knees soaking in the dirt, hands dragging the zipper of his faded, blue jeans all the way down, your own breath growing choppy as you stare at the gray boxers hiding the thing you want most. There is already a wet patch in the fabric, right where the tip of his cock is outlined. Your mouth fucking salivates at the sight. 

He shifts where he stands, hands clenching and unclenching at his sides, and you bask in how impatient he is, how much you can sense he wants it, even if he’s giving you every chance of an out. Polite, chivalrous man - how can he not see you’re dying to gag on his cock behind a tree in Sam’s garden - while the rest of the party’s conveniently occupied watching the fireworks? 

“I just - um - you just have to know I-I-I’m not pressuring you or -” he starts, stuttering so adorably, and his words dies on a gasp of breath as you reach up and lay your hand atop his boxer-clad cock, feeling it jump at the contact. He is so sensitive.

“Don’t you want it?” you ask. It’ll be agony having to tear yourself away at this point, but you’ll do it if he says no of course. You can tell he won’t though. 

“No! I mean yes! I do, I fucking do - God, so much - just-”

“Then be quiet,” you say softly. It’s honestly astounding seeing him so flustered, stumbling over his words like his mind is already going under. Big, strong man, Captain America himself, putty in your hands, fumbling and blushing, and his cock isn’t even out yet. It’s making you fucking soak your panties. 

His head thumps back against the tree and he exhales like he’s relieved. Relieved it’s actually happening despite him doing his part and checking your consent. Like you weren’t the one dragging him into the bushes and telling him to stay still, winking at him while you kneeled before him. 

A small sound escapes him as you pull his boxers down, letting his cock spring free before tucking the band of his boxers all the way under his balls - so you have proper access to him. You’ll accept no less, even given you have little space and even less time to do this before someone’s gonna come looking for you - it’s Steve’s party after all - and you’re the host. 

He’s fucking huge, intimidatingly so, even for you. He’s pale, bright pink on the tip, hair neatly trimmed by the base. He’s long and thick, prominent veins on the underside leading up to a pronounced head with a tight frenulum you can’t wait to tease with the tip of your tongue. You hold him gently by the base as you examine him, and a clear drop of precome trickle out the slit at the tip and down his shaft as you watch. It’s unreal how gorgeous he is. 

“Perfect,” you mutter, mostly to yourself, and meet his eyes as his head whips down to see you. A groan seems to tear itself from him as he lays eyes on you gazing at his cock from eye level. He ducks his head a little, almost like he’s trying to hide from the praise, and you see in the flashing light of the next firework that there’s a tell-tale blush high on his cheekbones. 

Oh, he liked that. 

You take him into your mouth as you hold his gaze, making him pay attention to every inch of himself disappearing slowly in between your lips. His mouth falls open as you work him deeper, tongue working to coat him in spit, cheeks hollowing in to add suction everytime you pull him out. You command he watches it all, and lets you see exactly what it does to him. 

His brows crunch together and rise on his forehead, his mouth gasping wider open, his face contorts almost to a grimace and you eagerly eat it all up as you work your mouth over him again and again. You gasp off him, and he gasps with you, sounding almost pained as you tease him with your tongue, running it from root to tip and back.

He throws his head back only to whip it down seconds later, unable to keep his eyes away from it, body shuddering each time you swipe the tip of your tongue from his frenulum to his tip, swiping at the spittle of precome that it coaxes out each time. 

You’re going pretty slow for someone who has such little time as you do, but you can tell it does it for him. He’s sensitive beyond all reason, and you know just a little more of this and some naughty words will get him right off that edge. 

“You like it?” you ask, moving your mouth down to take his balls into your mouth. 

He chokes on a groan as you latch on to one testicle, rolling it into your mouth and releasing it with a suctioning pop. His hands fists at his side before unclenching and reaching behind him, grabbing at the tree like it can save him. 

“Yes,” he gasps, desperately. 

You take his spit covered cock in your hand and jerk him off, fast and hard right off the bat, watching with preening satisfaction as his eyes clamp shut and his jaw drops, hips shifting restlessly, itching to thrust into your hand like he just can’t help but chase the pleasure. 

“Good. I want you to come for me. Don’t hold back when you reach that edge, give it all to me,” you say, voice deliciously raspy from taking him so deep, and he’s already nodding before you’re halfway through the sentence, putty in your hands. 

The fireworks above are going off full force now, painting the Captain in flashing colours of gold, red, silver, blue, green and purple, illuminating him like a fucking work of art as he gasps and groans, bites his lips red, saliva coating them and running out the side of his mouth to trickle down to his jaw. He’s such an open book, honest, body shameless in its pleasure even as he blushes bright red as he meets your eyes, seeing you staring unabashedly as you keep jerking him, suckling the other testicle. 

You take him back into your mouth, pressing him all the way back and into your throat. He sounds almost alarmed as you take him down your throat again and again, pushing your limits to give him that ultimate pleasure, working what you can’t get into your mouth with a spit covered hand. 

To his credit, he stays almost perfectly still like you told him to, only moving his hips whatever inches he can’t seem to control - and also trembling more and more as he nears his peak, moaning almost continually. 

“Fuck,” he swears at one point, and his hand flies out to tangle in your hair, holding on with a grip that alludes to unmatched violence but keeps to a desperate cling instead, a simple gesture to keep himself grounded. You groan around his cock, encouraging and maybe a bit patronizing, even as you gag around him before pulling off with a gasp. 

“Come on, baby, I’m right here. I want it all,” you say in between suckling and messily kissing the tip of his cock, jerking him for real now, hauling him to the edge. 

He whimpers at your words, and you relish the vulnerability of it, how he gives himself to you so entirely.

“I want your come, sweet thing, I can feel you want to give it to me,” you say, earning another desperate whimper. 

“Be good and come for me. That’s it, I’m right here, give it to me,” you babble, and his hips are thrusting into your wet fist now, mindlessly chasing that edge as his eyes lock with yours, pupils blown wide, mind empty but for your words and his need to come. It’s an absolutely gorgeous fucking sight and you don’t want to go a single day without it from now on. 

You take him back down your throat and he comes fast. How can he not, it’s his first blowie in 70+ years, maybe ever - you haven’t asked him yet. Also, you’d be insulted if he didn’t come fast, given how much work you’re putting in, taking him all the way into your throat and drenching both his cock, balls and your own chin in your saliva. 

You feel the way his muscles tense up long before it happens, like his whole body is going to combust on the spot, and then this tiniest, most vulnerable sound leaves him, like a choked whimper mixed with an almost woeful sigh. And then his cock is pulsing deliciously in your mouth, throbbing as he explodes, and you hum low and long in encouragement as he gives you everything he’s got, shaking and trembling through it all. Bark splinters off the tree he’s pinned against as his fists clench through it, and his cum is thick and salty and perfect on your tongue, coming out in such intense, forceful spurts you nearly choke on it. 

The fireworks are dwindling a bit in the sky, but you can still enjoy the sight of Steve going limp, head thumping back against the tree as he puts a hand through his hair, the other coming forth to cradle your jaw as you keep his throbbing cock in your mouth long after you’ve swallowed all the cum.

You gently release him, coo at him when he hisses from the sensitivity, and tuck him gently back into his pants, doing up the fly and belt before kissing his bulge lovingly, hoping for a swift reunion. 

Ever the gentleman, he helps you with gentle hands as you get up on your feet and before you can really think on what comes next, he’s kissing you. He cradles you close with one arm around your shoulder while the other cups your jaw and his embrace is warm and tender and needy and perfect. You put your arms around his torso, holding him tight and kissing him back, letting his tongue snake into your mouth, loving that he isn’t averse to his own taste. 

You kiss long and sweetly, unrushed, and you think maybe this should’ve come before the blowjob but Steve doesn’t seem too unhappy about the turn of events, turning you around to pin you against the tree as he plasters himself against you.  Are you tripping, or is he hard again? 

The chatter of the party comes back to life, and you break the kiss to murmur against Steve’s lips. 

“We should get back to the rest before they get suspicious.”

“Why?” Steve asks casually, and it’s your time to blush from the blatant lack of care he has for the possibility of people finding you like this. You giggle and slap his chest playfully. 

“Because, it’s your party and I’m the host,” you say, but it’s a nonsense reason. You could just stay like this until everyone’s left and it’d be okay with you. Maybe you could suck him some more. 

“Would you like to stay after? I’d like…um…” he seems to struggle to put to words what he wants, kissing you hard before just saying “more”. 

You giggle again and he smiles against your lips. 

“You’re so good with your words, Captain” you tease. 

He groans and his arms pull at your hips to grind his bulge into your stomach. 

“Nothin' like you. Fuck, that fucking mouth of yours drove me crazy,” he groans, never pulling back more than just enough to get his words out between your mingling breaths. “I’d like to return the favor.”

And a thrill goes up your spine and shivers down it at the promise in his voice, the breathless desire that manifests there, and you nod eagerly just as Sam’s voice cuts through the chatter out in the yard, calling for both you and Steve.

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