Summary: Steve definitely doesn't call you "cute."
Word Count: 985
Pairing: CATWS era Captain Steve Rogers x SHEILD Reader (Libby)
Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. Not Beta’d. Read at your own risk. S MUT! CATWS Steve, Dom Steve, Filthy Nasty Steve Rogers (Language!), Sir kink, established relationship, praise (it's me) and degradation kink (I mean the names this man calls you... 🥵), chokehold, bicep kink, oral (m/f receiving) choking, spitting on bjay, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, begging, rough sex, rough sex, raw p in v, aftercare, possessiveness. Pure smut under the cut.
A/N: This drabble is in answer to this ask. Yeah. Steve definitely didn't call you "cute." I'm in a smutty mood, sorry, not sorry. This comes right before the Payback fic. This can also be seen as adjacent to the Captain Steve fics that start with Call Me Captain When I..., but can be read as a stand alone. Let me know if you like it.
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“Christ, Sweetheart,” Steve muttered, voice rough as those steely blues took you in.
His hand tangled tight in your hair, guiding you down his cock with slow, steady pressure until your lips kissed the base of him and your throat fluttered around him. His head tipped back, a ragged groan breaking from his chest.
“Look at you. Down on your knees for me, gagging on it, so fucking pretty I can’t think straight.”
Your eyes watered as you looked up at him and pulled back, saliva dripping down your chin, and he watched every second like a starving man. You tried to breathe, but he tugged you right back down, groaning again when your throat took him deep.
Steve growled as his hips snapped once against your mouth. Your lashes fluttered up at him, tears catching, and it only made his grip tighten and his voice go darker.
“You’re my beautiful whore,” Steve rasped, dragging you up just far enough to smear spit and precum across your lips with his thumb.
“My perfect slut, so desperate to choke on my cock you’d do it all night if I let you.”
The needy sound you made around him had his thighs flexing, every muscle straining with restraint. He pulled you off suddenly, hauling you up onto the bed before you could even catch your breath.
“On your back,” he ordered, spreading your thighs wide with his hands. His mouth was on you instantly, tongue burying deep, beard scraping your tender skin as you cried out.
“Sir. Oh, fuck!”
Your voice was wrecked, His thick cock in your throat having made you hoarse.
He groaned into your cunt, two fingers sliding inside you in one rough stroke as his tongue circled your clit expertly.
“That’s it,” he praised, voice muffled against your slick cunt.
“Cum on my mouth, sweetheart. Show me how perfect my filthy little whore is.”
Your orgasm ripped through you hard, sudden and sharp, your thighs clamping helplessly around his head. Steve just held you there, devouring you like a starving man, dragging every convulsion out until you were sobbing.
Then he was above you, sliding his cock into your soaked heat in one brutal thrust. The cry that tore out of you only made him curse against your mouth.
He snarled again, driving deep, his hand cupping your cheek as his hips pounded into you.
“Mine. My beautiful slut. My perfect whore. Mine.”
He pulled out as you keened for him, tossing your body around on the bed until you were face down, and slapping your ass before he plunged inside you again.
Your body arched helplessly under Steve’s weight, the mattress rocking with every brutal thrust. His hand pinned both of yours above your head, his strength absolute, his control terrifyingly precise.
You couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe for the way he filled you so deep it hurt, so good it made tears prick your eyes.
“Look at you,” he rasped, his chest slick with sweat against your back as he bent low, mouth hot at your ear. “Spread out and shaking, begging for it like you were made for my cock.”
You whimpered, thighs trembling, the words making raw pleasure roll down your spine.
“Not some sweet girl,” he went on, voice breaking into a growl.
His teeth scraped your jaw as his hips snapped forward again, harder, rougher.
“Not just my good girl.”
His arm wound around your neck in a loose chokehold, and your teeth sank into his bicep as you grabbed his arm.
You were in heaven.
His free hand slid down your belly, fingers pressing against your clit with pornographic intent until you sobbed.
“You’re my dirty fucking angel,” he snarled, pounding into you harder, “my sweet little hole. You take it all, don’t you? Every fat, filthy inch of my cock. Every depraved order I give you.”
“Yes, Sir, oh God…yes,” you choked out, body convulsing around him, helpless to the rhythm he drove you into.
He grunted against your neck, his thrusts deepening.
“That’s it. My messy little filthy fucking toy. Mine to use, mine to ruin, mine to keep.”
Your vision blurred; the words affecting you as much as his body. You came with a strangled cry, clenching hard around him, your body jerking violently against his hold.
Steve didn’t stop.
He groaned low in his chest and kept driving into you, stretching you wide and raw until you were sobbing against the pillow. His fingers never left your clit, working you through the convulsions, dragging you over the edge again before you’d even finished falling.
“That’s my perfect girl,” he breathed, wrecked but steady, lips pressed hard to your temple.
“So fucking gorgeous when you break for me. You give me everything, sweetheart. Everything.”
Your tears wet his arm, but you didn’t care. You couldn’t stop shaking, couldn’t stop clenching around him, desperate for more even as your body screamed it was too much.
He shifted suddenly, flipping you onto your back again easily, caging you in with those broad shoulders and those burning blue eyes. His cock drove back into you in one ruthless stroke, and the cry that tore from your throat only made his jaw tighten with hunger.
“Mine,” he bit out, pounding into you with everything he had.
“My beautiful ruined girl. My treasure, all filthy for me. My everything.”
You broke under him, crying his name as your body gave in again. His release followed, thick and hot, buried deep inside you as he held your gaze, blue eyes blazing.
When he finally softened, when his lips brushed yours in a gentler kiss, his voice was hoarse but sure and his hand came to your cheek gently. Then, he lifted you up against his chest, reaching for a nearby bottle of water.
“My world.” he whispered, kissing your temple softly as he gave you a sip.
pairing: catws!steve rogers x fem!side-kick!reader
summary: steve takes note to the fact that he has a quite reckless side-kick, but a good one at that.
warnings: use of a gun, reader is steve's side-kick, I think that's really it...
prompt: "captain, if i'm shooting, i'm emptying the whole gat."
a/n: first cap fic, woohoo! i knew exactly what i wanted to do with this prompt, i've had it in my mind since i first looked at the prompt list. don't really have much to talk about today, so enjoy! also, chapter two to 'the ballet dancer' will hopefully (but no promises) be out sometime before tuesday...maybe.
day 17 of january jumble scribbles by @societynsoelsscribbles
word count: 335 (better than yesterday...)
creds: lace divider by @cursed-carmine
The deck rocks unsteadily beneath your boots, the salty water subtly spraying up against the sides and splashing to your cheeks.
Your fingers were wound tightly around your gun, your eyes constantly scanning for danger around you. Steve insisted you stay on one of the upper decks, but you were getting restless. You wanted to help, that’s why he brought you along, wasn’t it? What was standing up on an upper deck going to do? He said it was to ‘keep watch’, but you found that boring. You had weapons on you for a reason…
Steve’s voice comes in through your earpiece, sounding out of breath yet so focused on the task that you barely noticed.
“You’re still on the upper deck, right?”
You sigh and your eyes roll automatically, shoulders slouching down. Of course he was just checking to make sure you were still where he left you…
“Yes…”
The other line was quiet for a bit, with the occasional sounds of Steve moving around…wherever he was. Then, his voice broke back through the comms, his words making you perk up.
“It’s your lucky night…I’m gonna need you to use that gun and get down here.”
“On it.” you replied immediately, sounding way too giddy to be shooting people.
“──but please be responsible and careful…don’t waste your bullets, only use them when you need to.”
“Captain, if I'm shooting, I'm emptying the whole gat.” you replied sharply, feet already moving as you sped walked over to the stairs that led off the upper deck.
Steve went quiet for a second, a brief pause, before you could slightly hear him shake his head.
“Then make those bullets count.” he eventually replied with an exhale.
A small smirk came to your face despite yourself as your eyes darted around to make sure the coast was clear.
“Understood, Captain.”
Steve sighed deeply on the other line, pinching the bridge of his nose between thumb and index finger.
At least your recklessness was coming in hand right now…
