What’s This Do?
Title: What’s This Do?
Pairing: Steve Rogers x Female Reader
Summary: Steve volunteered to tidy up the bedroom while you were in the shower. What he found in your nightstand drawer left him blushing... and more than a little intrigued.
Word Count: 3.3k
Warnings: / Explicit Content /18+, Minors DNI, Modern tech confusion, toy discovery, flustered Steve, curious Steve, teasing, toy play, dominant Steve, possessive sex, unprotected sex, established relationship, slight size kink, aftercare
A/N: my entry for @avengers-assemble-bingo for Spring Bingo Square: A1- Steve and Modern Technology – Yay got them all done!!! Card Number: AAS001 The water had still been running, the faint sound of it echoing from the bathroom, when Steve crouched by the bed. He ran a hand over the comforter, smoothing it automatically, his eyes catching on the bottom drawer that stuck out just slightly. You always teased him for being a little obsessive about tidiness, about how he couldn't walk past a crooked frame or an unmade bed without fixing it. Today, though, he'd wanted to be helpful. You'd had a long week, and if organizing the bedroom gave you one less thing to stress about, then so be it.
He tugged gently at the drawer, assuming a stubborn sock or hoodie was to blame for the gap. But the moment it slid open, his entire body stilled.
What greeted him wasn’t laundry. It was a collection of sleek shapes, soft silicone, and polished curves. He blinked. Once. Twice. The colors ranged from soft pastels to bold black, and each one looked more alien than the last. There was something with little bunny ears. Something with a looped handle. Something that looked like it might require a license. Something tiny and bullet-shaped. Something else that looked like a wand from a sci-fi movie.
And then the remote, one he definitely didn't recognize. The little screen flickered to life when he nudged it by accident, and he nearly dropped it.
Steve closed the drawer on instinct. His jaw flexed. Then he opened it again.
"...Oh. Oh- OH."
He couldn’t stop staring.
His face flushed scarlet. His ears, too. He shifted on his knees and scratched the back of his neck like it was the 1940s and someone had just flashed a smile at him. He was stammering softly to himself, still half-frozen, when you stepped out of the ensuite wrapped in a towel, already smiling until you saw the look on his face.
"Steve?"
"I- uh. I wasn’t snooping, I swear. The drawer wasn’t shutting right and I just- " He gestured helplessly toward it, cheeks burning. "I didn’t expect that."
You padded across the carpet, water still beading on your skin. "What are you tal- Oh."
Steve cleared his throat. “They’re... yours?”
You laughed, finding his bashfulness adorable. “Who else would they belong to?”
He didn’t laugh back. His brow furrowed, and the crease between his brows deepened as something more complicated passed behind his eyes, an old instinct to blush, to look away, warring with the part of him that needed to understand. “You use them when I’m not around?” he asked, voice low. It wasn’t just curiosity, it was something closer to awe. “Did you ever… think about me when you did?”
"Who else would I be thinking about?" You offered shrugging slightly.
He sat back on the edge of the bed, as if needing space to wrap his head around it. Of course he’d known people did this. Even back in his time, people had ‘aids’….though they were clunky, noisy things you didn’t talk about. But this… this was something else. A drawer full of pleasure, all tucked away like a secret. You, arching under your own touch, moaning into a pillow while something artificial pulsed between your legs. His brain short-circuited.
He looked at you, really looked, and the images came fast. You, flushed and panting, back arched as you chased your own release. Did you touch yourself slow? Did you tease yourself the way he liked to? Did you cry out his name, or bite your lip to keep quiet? The thought should have made him awkward, uneasy.
Instead, it made something in his chest pull tight. Something possessive. Something raw. And lower; something stirred in his gut, thick and demanding. His cock twitched in his jeans before he even realized it, a warm flush spreading beneath his skin as arousal crept in uninvited and overwhelming.
The idea of you like that; legs spread, eyes shut, fingers digging into the sheets as you came all over something smooth and buzzing- it struck him deep. He imagined the way your thighs would shake. How pretty your mouth would look gasping for air. How red your chest got when you were close. All of it, happening in secret, just for you.
He shifted slightly where he sat, suddenly very aware of the growing pressure building beneath his zipper. The heat, the need, it was immediate and sharp, blooming through him like a live wire.
He cleared his throat again, rougher this time. "I guess I just... I didn’t think you needed something like that. Not when you had me."
You stepped closer, eyes soft. One hand still holding your towel while the other ran a damp hand over his arm and shoulder trying to help. “It’s not about needing, Steve. It’s about exploring. Playing. Sometimes I just miss you too much.”
That did it. That broke him. The idea that you’d used those things not instead of him but because you craved what only he gave you? That you thought about him the whole time?
He nodded, slow. Processing. Adjusting. And then his jaw clenched as something behind his eyes shifted entirely.
"Get on the bed."
This was not how you were expecting your morning to go. What started as Steve curiously poking through your nightstand while you were wrapped in a towel had become a full-on audit. His questions came in quick succession- what’s this one for? How does this part work? Do you use it like this, or like this? He examined each item like it was a new kind of weapon, like understanding it meant understanding you.
And the more he asked, the more his voice dipped. The more his fingers lingered. He kept circling back to a smaller one with a smooth curve and soft lilac finish, the one you'd once offhandedly mentioned was your 'easy go-to.' His thumb hovered over the button like he was waiting for permission.
When it whirred to life, the quiet hum filled the room like a promise. He didn’t speak right away, just met your eyes with something heavy and warm and unbearably focused.
“Lay back” he said again, and this time you moved.
You settled back on the pillows, towel still clutched loosely to your chest until Steve reached out, thumb brushing your knuckles as he gently peeled it open. It pooled around your hips, baring your flushed skin to the morning light and his increasingly ragged breathing.
“Spread your legs for me.”
You did, already slick from the teasing, from the talk, from the look in his eyes.
He climbed up beside you, one knee on the mattress, toy still buzzing quietly in his hand. His other hand stroked up your thigh as he looked down at you; hungry, reverent, almost awestruck.
Then he held it to your clit.
Your back arched at the first contact, heat sparking sharp and sudden. He kept it light, tracing slow circles, studying every flutter of your lashes and every sharp inhale.
“Talk to me,” he said, voice low and taut. “Tell me how it feels.”
“It’s- ” You swallowed hard. “It’s good. It’s soft at first, but it... It- Steve."
His lips twitched at the corners. Not smug just focused.
“What about when I do this?” he asked, turning the toy slightly and pressing in more firmly. Your breath hitched.
You moaned. “It’s- god- it’s right there when you angle it like that.”
He kissed your shoulder, then dragged the toy slowly down to your entrance, pausing to brush the slickness there, his breath catching at just how wet you already were.
“And when I push it inside?” he asked, voice thicker now, fingers trembling just slightly as he teased your opening, circling with the head of the toy and watching the way your hips twitched with anticipation.
You gasped as he eased it in. The toy slid in slowly, the pressure a stretch at first, not quite like his cock, but enough to make your toes curl. The soft silicone dragged against your inner walls, and your thighs instinctively fell wider open as you exhaled a shaky moan.
“Ah...” you managed, blinking hard, lips parted, voice catching on a breathy moan. “Snug. It stretches just right. Fuck- it feels so fucking good, Steve. Hits just the right place.”
He adjusted the angle slightly, pressing in deeper, eyes locked on your cunt as it took the toy. “Here?” he asked, voice almost hoarse. “That spot?”
You cried out in response, hands fisting in the sheets.
Steve’s breathing was hard now, ragged. His free hand gripped your thigh, holding it open as he moved the toy in slow, deliberate strokes, the base grinding against your clit every time he pushed in.
“Look at you,” he murmured, completely transfixed. “Taking it so well. Fuck, you’re beautiful like this.”
And then, more quietly, almost to himself: “Can’t believe I wasn’t here for this before. Watching you fall apart like this... should’ve always been me.”
Your answer came in a moan that was all the confirmation he needed.
He learned fast. Too fast. He adjusted the angle, the speed, the rhythm. Studying every twitch, every gasp. His mouth hovered close, whispering encouragement against your cheek, “There we go. That’s it, baby. You feel that?”
Your fingers clutched at the sheets and towel under you, hips straining against his grip. Your back arched as the sensation built and built, Steve murmuring praise with every moan he pulled from your lips. “You’re so wet like this. All from me.”
He was fascinated, utterly focused, and beneath the curiosity, there was something darker simmering in his voice. The way he kept his hand steady when your hips bucked, the smug little smirk when you gasped his name, the way his other hand slid up to hold your trembling thigh down.
“Did you use it like this?” he asked roughly suddenly stilling the toy inside you, pushed all the way in then just rocked it slightly back in forth in shallow thrust “Or did you just let it sit there and pulse till it drove you wild?”
You could barely speak. Could only moan something close to his name. Your thighs were slick and shaking. He held the toy perfectly still, just for a second, and the sudden stillness made your whole body flinch.
“Oh, you like that,” he murmured, almost to himself. “All wound up with nowhere to go. You going to cum sweetheart?"
You whimpered his name, your legs trembling as you tried to hold on, but Steve didn’t let up. Not until he was ready. Not until you were teetering.
Then, finally: “Let go,” he breathed and you shattered.
You came with a strangled noise, your whole body quaking. Steve caught you through it, his hand steady on your thigh, the toy still buzzing softly as you trembled beneath him. He watched your face like you were the only thing in the world that mattered. That look of overwhelmed bliss, of coming undone under his touch. And it did something to him.
He turned the toy off but didn’t move right away. Just knelt there, staring at you, jaw clenched and chest rising like he’d just run a race.
When you finally opened your eyes, breath catching in your throat, he was staring down at you, dark-eyed and completely undone.
His jaw tightened as he looked at you, flushed and trembling, still twitching from aftershocks. His arousal was taking over, his cock straining hard against the seam of his pants, the pressure almost painful now. The idea of you falling apart under something fake suddenly wasn’t enough. Not anymore. Not when he was right here.
He reached between your legs again- Slowly. Gently. The soft silicone slipped from your body with a wet sound that made both of you gasp, and Steve held it in his hand for a beat, watching the way your slick coated the surface. Then he set it aside with careful reverence, as if it no longer had a place in what came next.
His eyes were molten when they met yours again.
“Ready for the real thing, sweetheart?” he muttered, voice rough and low, hands working his belt open with shaking urgency. “Everything those toys can’t be.”
You were still reeling, floating somewhere between bliss and haze. Your body was soft and pliant, chest rising in slow, shallow breaths, skin flushed and damp with sweat. You nodded before you even realized you had, too dreamy to protest, too sensitive to think, your thighs still trembling from the aftershocks he’d pulled from you. You wanted him- needed him- but couldn’t find the words.
Steve leaned in, his lips brushing yours, breath hot and ragged. His mouth hard against yours, his body pressed hot and heavy to your skin his clothes stripping away. The kiss was messy and hungry, all teeth and tongue and pent-up need. You barely had time to catch your breath before his tip was nudging against your entrance, broad and hot and real. You gasped as he pushed in, slow, steady, and unrelenting. Your slick heat parted for him, your walls stretching around the thick length of him, inch by inch.
It was overwhelming. The stretch was deeper than the toy, firmer, hotter. Alive. You moaned into his mouth as he sank deeper, your body welcoming him in a way that felt instinctive, necessary. He moved with maddening control, giving you time to feel every inch.
“Fuck,” he gritted out against your neck, voice wrecked. “You’re so tight. So warm. Nothing- nothing feels like this.”
He bottomed out with a groan, hips flush to yours, your body trembling from how full you felt. He pressed so deep you swore you could feel him everywhere, against places no toy ever reached, places that belonged to him alone.
He didn’t ease into it. He didn’t give you time to adjust. He just pulled back and snapped his hips forward, sharp and deep, pulling a gasp from your throat as his cock drove in with purpose. You could feel him in every nerve ending, thick and hot and overwhelming. Each stroke landed with a force that bordered on frantic, like he needed to carve himself into your memory, mark you from the inside out. No one else had ever reached you like this, so deep it made your spine arch, so consuming it blurred the edge of pleasure and surrender.
Every thrust was brutal, deliberate. Skin slapping against skin. The way he moved was unrelenting, his hips driving forward in punishing, rhythmic snaps that sent the bed creaking beneath you, headboard knocking faintly against the wall. Your body rocked with the rhythm, helpless beneath the power of him.
"Fuck- look at you," he growled, pushing himself up to sit back on his knees, dragging your hips with him. He gripped your thighs and spread you wider, watching the way you fluttered around him, watching his cock disappear into you with every demanding thrust. His eyes were locked on the place where your bodies met, mouth parted in awe.
"Look at that" he rasped. "Better than any toy could ever fuck you."
You arched beneath him, back bowing off the bed, chasing the pressure, the stretch, the burn. Each time he bottomed out it punched a sound from your lungs; raw, high, desperate. You felt wrecked and worshipped, your whole body trembling from the intensity.
"You're mine," he bit out again, thrusting harder. "Say it. Let me hear you say it."
And even if you hadn't wanted to, even if your mind wasn’t lost in bliss, you still would’ve said it. Because it was true. "I'm yours, Steve."
His eyes burned. "Tell me you need me."
Your answer came on a gasp, voice high and shivering as he thrust again, hard, deep, tilting his hips just right to press into everything inside you that could ache. “I need you. God, I need you, Steve. Don’t stop.”
He leaned back over you, bracing one hand beside your head, the other gripping your hip, driving into you with relentless focus. You were already close again- so close- from the angle alone, the way his cock rubbed that sweet spot inside you, deeper than anything else ever had.
“You feel that?” he growled. “"This is what you’ve been aching for, isn’t it? Not buzzing plastic- me. Deep and fucking real.”
Your whole body bowed beneath him, thighs shaking, vision blurring as your climax began to build again, fast and hard and impossible to outrun. You weren’t going to argue. You weren’t going to point out that this wasn’t a conversation about competition. Not when you could barely think past the overwhelming sensation of him inside you, the rhythm of his hips slamming into yours with unrelenting power, the thick slide of his cock stroking every swollen, aching spot inside you with ruthless precision.
All you could do was hold on, whimper his name, and take everything he gave you as your orgasm coiled tighter, relentless and sharp, pulling you toward the edge with every powerful thrust. Your cries turned breathless, your body locking up as the pleasure surged white-hot through your core.
You came hard- like a dam bursting, the flood of sensation blinding, shuddering through every inch of you. It ripped through your core, electric and unstoppable, leaving you gasping, chest arched and nerves alight as if every breath was caught between sob and scream. Your whole body arched beneath him, heels digging into the mattress. Your cunt fluttered and clenched in sharp, rippling waves around his cock as the orgasm took you. You could feel every nerve-ending fire as your walls milked him, desperate to keep him buried deep, to draw him even closer as the wave crested and broke. You sobbed his name, every nerve ending lit up as he fucked you through it.
Steve groaned deep in his chest, hips stuttering at the feel of you pulsing around him. "Fuck, baby- I'm right there. I’m- "
His pace broke, hips jerking forward in ragged, uneven bursts as his climax overtook him. Each snap of his body was urgent, uncontrolled, like instinct had taken over, driven purely by the overwhelming need to finish deep inside you. With a final deep drive, he spilled inside you, his cock twitching as he came hard, heat flooding you as he panted against your neck. His muscles tensed, his mouth parting in a strangled groan as he ground deep, wanting to be as close as possible, to stay buried in you until the shaking stopped.
You wrapped your arms around him, pulling him close as he collapsed over you, both of you breathless and wrung out. You nuzzled at his cheek, soft kisses along his jaw as your heart slowly steadied, his weight warm and grounding against your chest.
You could still feel him inside you, the pulse of him easing, warmth dripping slowly between your thighs. Your body throbbed with aftershocks, a dull ache layered with satisfaction. Steve’s breath came in broken huffs against your neck, his weight comforting, grounding, too perfect to let go of just yet.
You didn’t speak for a long moment, just touched and breathed and held on as the last ripples of pleasure ebbed away. Then you whispered, lips brushing the shell of his ear, “You’re perfect, you know that?”
Steve huffed a soft, almost disbelieving breath, but you didn’t let him pull away. Your hands curled at his back, anchoring him there. “This is what I miss when you're gone,” you said quietly. “You. Not the touches. Not the relief. Just... you. Your weight. Your warmth. The way you look at me like I’m yours.”
He kissed your collarbone, something tight and wordless in the way he held you.
“And you don’t have to think twice about what’s in the drawer,” you murmured, nuzzling into his temple. “They’re fun. We can enjoy them together if you want. But they’ll never replace this. You.”
Steve didn’t answer right away, but the way he exhaled and kissed you again said enough.
Tags @avengers-assemble-bingo
