Situations with Chris Evans (and characters)!
[ CHRISEVANSXFEM!READER SMUT/FLUFF ]
* mild language and explicit depictions of sexuality (other trigger warnings stated at the beginning of the chapter). 18+ or else...
requests are [open but no guaran...
A/N: smokeywhalee I AM SO SORRY IM JUST NOW POSTING THIS, when i tell yall i am terrible at getting to requests on time, you sent this in on september 22 and it's fucking mARCH WHAT so!!! i am deeply sorry for my procrastination habits <3 🥺 Summary: The Captain doesn't like anyone getting near his babygirl, let alone putting their hands on her. 3k words. Warnings: captain kink 🤩, jealousy, smut, spanking, angry sex for the ladies ;) darkish themes (yandere a biT), hair pulling hehe, millld S&M i spose, chchcchoking because i don't think u understand i am oBSSESSED. so much degrading bye 👋
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Steve is restless, and he usually has quite the talent for staying calm and collected under pressure. A temper, of all things, is not a skill he has mastered. Until now. Now he has you. And he keeps close tabs on your every move no matter how many times you have told him you are perfectly capable of taking care of yourself. Because he knows that better than most, but there's something about you he just can't lose if his life depends on it.
And now he sits on a rickety chair settled on your apartment's fire escape, feet propped on the ledge as he drinks in the feeling of sun blanketing his skin a bright pale. His fingers still tick, though, however relaxed he should be with his neck craned back to welcome the warmth of midday's star. He isn't. He might find any kind of solace if Casey from analytics wasn't constantly trying to take a bite of you. Then he's up, bounding across shrieking floorboards as not enough crosses his mind.
Car keys shoved into his pocket, he still pinches at them on the elevator ride up, humming Frank or Dean or something. His beating heart is stilled by the sight of you, half-hunched over your workspace and flicking the edge of a document with eyes fixed on your computer screen. He ponders walking over to you when Casey plants a palm on your desk and leans over, lips finding the shell of your ear to whisper something Steve can only assume is unwelcome when your face contorts to a crooked smile.
It makes his blood boil. His perfect babygirl being bombarded. Suffocated by a brainless analyst whose only goal is to get between your legs. He has to remind himself you're strong enough to handle this on your own and he should probably go back home. If only his subconscious would let him.
