You can only choose one!
Praise kink with Steve Rogers
Or
Degradation kink with Andy Barber
ᗷOᗪY TEᗩᑕᕼ
𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: steve rogers x reader
𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: Steve Rogers is the only man to ever make you feel good. Much to your despair, there are days when he's away and you're left all alone, with no one to love on your body. So you do what you should— ask Steve to teach you how to touch yourself. After all, he's the best, isn't he?
𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: smut [guided masturbation (steve guiding reader) fingering, clit play, nipple stimulation, spitting, male masturbation, pussy job, pussy pronouns, steve knows your body more than you do. shirtless steve because his body is tea(ch). praise.]
𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.3k
𝐀/𝐍: goodnessssssss!!!!!!! cate you're torturing me with these asks i have no idea how you manage to hit me straight in the feels with every single one. i started writing for mr barber but then I was like....wait a minute... i wanna write steve. And this kinda escalated.
⤷steve rogers masterlist
The room smelled like sex and patience. Nothing but his gentle words and your soft mewls in the air.
You had told him, hours ago, with a shy smile on your face and an urge to please in your heart, that you didn't know how to touch yourself—not like he did. How your touch just didn't feel the same. How much it pains you when you can't bring yourself to feel good when he's away on missions that last entirely too long.
And then he had told you, in that steely voice of his, to go up to the room, take off your clothes, and wait for him.
And wait you did.
---
Hands folded neatly in your lap as you sat on the soft duvets, clothes tossed somewhere near the end of the bed. You were shivering with anticipation of what was about to come.
You barely heard the soft click of the door as he walked in, steady and slow footsteps that echoed in the quiet of the room.
“You listened,” the words dragged you out of the haze you had been in, like cold water on a fevered body. “You're precious, aren't you?”
You felt a gush of arousal seep down your wet and waiting hole, coating your inner thighs with shame and excitement.
Steve Rogers had a way with his words, and you were known for falling victim to them. Even when he chose silence, one look, one glance from him was all it took to drive you to madness.
Smiling— pleased with you—he stripped off his shirt with deliberate slowness, never breaking eye contact. Every measured movement emphasized the hard lines of his shoulders and the thick curve of his biceps. His bare skin glowed under the soft light of the lamps, the raw strength corded in his muscles a sight to behold.
Dragging the chair to face you, he sits down heavily, his eyes never once leaving yours. His bulge was clearly visible underneath the soft material of his sweatpants, and you found it endearing that he was just as affected as you, despite the control and restraint he put on so perfectly.
“Now…” he begins, eyes drifting towards the headboard. “Get comfy.”
Dragging yourself till your back rested on the soft headboard— thanks to Steve and his immaculate choice in furnishing to make sure the time he spends with you in here doesn't leave you hurt— you look at him as he pulls out his half hard cock, palming it gently in his hand.
“Tell me, baby, what you do when I'm gone.”
A wave of shame took over you as you remembered the times you touched yourself in his absence.
“I use my fingers, an—and that toy you got me.”
He hums, a quiet acknowledgement to your words, already imagining how pretty and pathetic you must have looked rubbing yourself, crying out his name.
“Show me.”
A shaky breath leaves your lips, and you part your legs open to give him the full, unobstructed view to your slick pussy. The cool air of the room in your hot centre, along with his unrelenting gaze making you squirm in your place.
He doesn't react in loud, showy ways—merely a clinical observation of something that seemed mildly intriguing. He leans back, arms crossed as he waits for you to start.
You were drowning in nerves. He had seen everything, he had touched everything, yet touching yourself—presenting yourself in front of him like that seemed like the most wicked thing ever.
Stop it! It's Steve. Your Steve. He'll take care of you.
Your hands were shaking, fingers unsteady as you reached down to gingerly touch your mound. You look up— seeking his approval— as you press down on your clit with two of your fingers.
“Tsk-tsk,” he clicks his tongue. “That’s too hard, baby. Slower. Warm your body up.”
You yank your hand away, biting your bottom lip as you figure out how to warm your body up. Usually, it was Steve’s lips on yours, trailing kisses down your neck and your chest, his hands that groped and caressed your soft body that made warmth spread all over. But without him?
He seemed to understand exactly what was going on in your mind as he chuckled at your confused face.
“Touch your tits… just like I do. Play with your pretty nipples for me, baby.”
God… he really was going all in.
You nod your head as best as you could. Your brain was feeling all dizzy from just how intense the situation was. Just how vulnerable you were. Just how loved.
You drag your hands up your stomach, feeling your skin break in goosebumps as you go higher and higher, reaching the curve of your breasts. You caress them with gentle hands, squeezing them lightly—just feeling their weight and softness in your hands.
You reach higher still, and the first brush of your hand against your still soft nipples made you jump, the sensation so foreign, so powerful for something so menial.
You slowly run your hands over your sensitive nipples, heat curling low in your belly with each soft circle around your slowly hardening peak.
Once completely hard, you pinch them between your thumb and your forefinger, twisting and turning them slowly.
“Just like that…doesn't that feel so good?” he rasped, and you look down to see him stroking his cock, now completely erect and leaking precum in shiny pearls of white.
“Mmhm…s’feel so good,” you whine, already breathless.
“Good girl. Now spit on your tits. Get them all nice and shiny.”
Your eyes went wide at his words. But you did exactly what he told. Collecting saliva in your mouth, then spitting it straight down your chest. The thick, warm glob dripped down slowly, marking its trail across your sternum.
You swipe your fingers over the sticky wetness, dragging it over to cover your tits, circling your nipples. The extra slip it offered made the act so much more filthy. Your nipples were now pebbled into achy, hard buds and the more you rubbed them, the less it felt like relief and more like punishment.
On the armchair, Steve looked like a mess. A controlled mess, but a mess nonetheless. Pupils blown wide, chest panting, lips parted as he breathed in harsh inhales and exhales.
Seeing you like this was something out of his dirtiest dreams, the fantasies he has when he was young and stupid were now playing out in front of him and he didn't know how to stop himself from ruining the moment, take control and lose himself in you.
But he knew he had to.
For you.
For him.
“Does that hurt, baby? Too much for your tits?” He coos, voice rough like gravel but somehow still sickly sweet.
“Show me that pussy, love. Show me my girl…” as much as he liked seeing you toy with your tits, he needed to see you become a mess.
You nod, eyes half lidded already as you take your wet fingers to your pussy, parting your wet, sticky folds open with your fingers, baring yourself completely to him.
You hear him take a sharp inhale as he watches your juices drip down from your hole, clenching around nothing but air as it begs for him. Your clit was swollen and throbbing, dancing in the dim lights.
“You're so pretty… my pretty little girl. Did you miss me?”
His pretty little girl. He was talking to your cunt. You couldn't help the whimper that bubbled up your throat, far too gone at the way his words wrapped around you.
He squeezed his cock at the base, angling it just right so you could see his swollen head that shined in the dim lights, all the mess he'd made before even cumming.
“I miss you too, sweets. Just as much as you miss me.”
This time, you weren't sure if he was talking to you or your pussy. And you didn't care. Not really.
“Steve….please!” You whined, loud and shameless. You couldn't wait anymore, you needed him so bad.
“I'm here with you, aren't I? Just do as I say,” He purrs, amused at how needy you were for him to continue his instructions.
“Swipe your finger up and down your lips, baby. Play with the mess your pussy made for me.”
Your eyes close shut as you dipped your finger down to your drooling lower lips, running your fingertip up and down the soft, slippery skin.
You hear a strangled groan, and wet, stroking noises that sped up with each passing second. The veins of his neck were bulging now, the restraint threatening to snap each time your finger dipped in your pool of nectar.
“Fuck— just like that. Now touch your clit, little taps,” his brows furrow as he demonstrates the movement on himself, tapping the head of his cock softly, precum leaking out with each one.
Your mouth felt empty all of a sudden. Wanting to be full of him, his taste, his scent as he used you for his pleasure. He was the prettiest man you'd ever seen and how you got to call him yours was still a mystery to you.
One you don't think you'll ever figure out any way, but you're grateful for whatever past you did to deserve him.
You slowly pull at the hood concealing your clit from him, revealing it completely.
Tap!
Your back shot straight off the bed in a clean arch, pleasure shooting down your spine in intense bouts.
It was anything like you’d ever felt before. The teasing, the wait, the way his eyes bore straight into you and captured every single move, every single twitch of your body —it was too much.
“God—Steve! I—”
“You're doing so good, angel. Don't stop...” he hissed, squeezing at the base of his cock like you would.
You moaned out his name, though barely audible, drowned out in your pathetic mewls and cries.
Tap! Tap! Tap!
Three consecutive taps and you could feel them in your limbs, running through your nerves endings and settling deep inside.
“Fuck…” he growls. “Put them inside. Slowly.”
You made an incomprehensible noise, somewhere between a yes and a curse.
Teasing your finger against your clenching opening, you slowly dip inside, just to the fingertip.
You felt so full.
So warm and wet and fluttery inside. So fucking tight.
You pause, chest rising up and falling down in a frantic pace, trying to get hold of reality.
Steve seemed to do the same, waiting for you to start moving again, just holding and caressing his heavy, full balls in his hand.
You cry out, your legs shaking violently as you push inside more. Down to the first knuckle, then more and more till you couldn't take no more.
You try to find that one spot inside you, but you knew damn well you wouldn't. It was only him that could do so. He knew your body more than you ever could and he prided himself in it. Being so in tune with you— owning your pleasure.
You pull your fingers out, a string of your wetness dragging out, connecting your hand back to your pussy. And then slowly plunge them back inside.
You do it over and over— curling your fingers upwards as you feel your walls tightening with each pass. Your jaw fell open as you feel the heat rising in your core.
You were close.
And he was too.
You could tell. His abs tightening, his hands shaking, his eyes fluttering close, and his breathing going ragged. He was close.
“Cum on me, Steve. I want your cum on me…”
His eyes tore open as he registered your words. He nods, a haste and shaky move, as he stands up and comes closer—climbing on the bed. Never once stopping stroking and twisting up and down his hard cock.
He leans down on you, shielding your body with his bigger, stronger one. His blue eyes looking straight through yours, then falling down at your bitten lips.
He doesn't give you another breath to take, instead engulfing your lips with his. The kiss wasn't soft, it was all biting and panting and licking inside each other's mouth, pouring into each other what words never could.
You felt his cock drag through your folds, and you whined into his mouth, your hands grabbing at his broad shoulder, feeling his bare skin.
He rubs the head of his cock over and over your already overly sensitive clit, massaging it in ways he knows would ruin you. Breaking the kiss to look down at where you two met, he groans as he feels his balls tighten painfully. He was at the edge of falling and he didn't want to stop. He couldn't.
Your face was contorted with overwhelming pleasure, your chest brushing his with each heavy breath you took. Your nails were digging into his skin painfully, sure to leave marks.
“Cum for me, baby. You're being so good for me, so fucking good.”
Your vision blacked out, sparks all across your eyes as your orgasm hit you.
You screamed into his skin as you found yourself drowning under its waves, too deep to ever get back up.
He shuddered above you, biting your neck to muffle his moans as he cums all over your pussy. The hot, sticky, spurts of his release painting you a sinful white.
He kept rubbing, riding out both of your orgasms, dragging it out for as long as possible, as much as your bodies could take.
“God, sweetheart. I love you…” he whispers, once your breathing slowed down and you returned back from the depths of your orgasm.
“You're my best girl.”
This might be the hottest thing I've ever written someone come give me a medal.
🏷️𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐲 𝐜𝐮𝐭𝐢𝐞 𝐩𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐬: @ornateglass @epiphanyrogers @sassandscribbles @buckybunni @eterna1reverie @juniebjonesin @pinksplace @sheriff-bodecker @i-gotta-go-so-much-bigger @blobfishlol @sleepy-k0i @angelryex @stargazingfangirl18 @laufeysonbarnes3000 @blue-eyes-in-august @buckybarneswife08 @elliestwoleftfingerss @swimmingnightcolor @thatisamericas-ass @highonmarvel