#catboy steve

[babysitterpng]

happy halloween from catboy steve!! 🦇🐀🎃😻🔪

these will be stickers im giving away for my sh☆p update in nov!

[ihni]

Catboy Steve for @babysitterpng​, who requested him “being cute”. I think I may have interpreted ‘cute’ in a different way ... (Also yes that’s catnip on that plate, I watched a video of a cat who got catnip and basically rubbed it all over its face and paws and it was adorable)

Bonus:

Babysitterpng’s shop!

[sniffanimal]

catboy steve

catboy steve

catboy steve

[steviespanties]

Office AU where catboy!Steve and Billy both work for companies in the same building. Steve is a miserable office drone who tries really hard to just blend into the background because he doesn't like the attention his eyes and tail get while Billy is more of a big shot in fancy suits and a cocky grin that absolutely lights up his face when he and Steve end up on the same elevator.

Sure, Steve's coworkers remark on how lucky he is to get hit on by the hottest manager in the whole building. But none of them suspect that when Steve and Billy meet during lunch at Billy's office, it's so Steve can eagerly suck Billy off while he answers some emails, purring and mewling once Billy's hands are free to stroke his ears and dig his expensive leather shoes into Steve's clothed erection.

No one notices the occasional drawn out toilet breaks on an unused floor, when Steve gags on Billy's fingers as he gets fucked against an unused office table. There's no better stress relief than getting eaten out afterwards by Billy, till Steve is loose-limbed, his shirt a little crumpled and his hole is all pink and sensitive when he sits down later.

Catboy!Steve has a pretty good pokerface, but a couple of fellow cat people absolutely notice the way he leans into Billy's space and his ears twitch in visible excitement when he spots Billy coming right for him.

[shieldofiron]

Billy: Harrington, stop scratching.

[half-oz-eddie]

Why can’t Billy just say he wants to be a catboy?

[billys-mullet]

To say Steve's life was a little strange would be an understatement.

Completing tests and juggling the trials and tribulations of high school was one thing. To do all of that while also fighting off inter-dimensional creatures reminiscent of dogs was another.

It's a good thing he's a cat-person.

—

"You sure do eat a lot."

The dim glow of the light overhead sent a grungy yellow over the concrete of his front porch. It was a little after six and the sun was in the midst of setting. Steve was crouched, weight leaned back on his calves, while tired eyes took in the furious chowing of the stray before him. It was a mangy thing; fur matted and eyes wild, more plump than it had been when they first met. It was cute despite its ragged appearance: fluffy and feline, whiskers curled at the ends, coat the color of sunshine with eyes like the ocean. Kind of unusual for a cat. He hadn't seen anything like it before.

They'd been playing this little game for weeks now. Steve had found it rummaging through his trash can during the last bit of this month's cold snap and had called animal control at his mother's urging. The poor worker had been flushed with exertion after an hour of attempting to get it trapped and handled.

He's smart, the man had panted, cheeks ruddy and sweat beading beneath the brim of his cap. He had wiped over his forehead before continuing, but not smarter than us. I'll set up a trap, give it a few days, and then I'll be back. He's sure to slip in there if you make sure to bait it right.

And Steve had. Diligently — to not get any part of himself stuck in the metal cage — he had placed some treats in there, had even gone out to buy a couple of cans of wet stuff that smelled metallic and meaty. Each morning, without fail, he would come back to see the trap undisturbed… and the food missing. He had even made eye contact with the stray once while he had been setting everything up. It seemed to be taunting him from its perch high on the one of the barren oak trees in his backyard. Its eyes had been too wise and too knowing, like the Cheshire Cat leering over Alice.

A week went by without trapping him. Steve didn't have the heart to tell the animal control worker that their efforts had been useless, so he made up some lie: yeah, I came out the other day and the door had snapped shut on its neck. It was gross so I put it in a bag and threw it away. The man had shrugged, gave him a it happens and then had collected his trap without any other questions. Fast forward a few weeks and Steve seemed to have built up some trust with the thing.

Had even given him a cute nickname despite his feral appearance: Billy the Kid, after a character in the Westerns he sometimes saw his dad watching on the rare occasion that he was home. Mother had never been a fan of animals, much less cats. They smell, she complained in her heavy accent, and the hair, Stephano! The hair will get everywhere in my home! Do not bring them here, I will not like it. Steve hadn't ever questioned her rules because he had felt the same. Growing up without pets did that to a person. But something about this cat…

Leaning his cheek against a hand, Steve continued with his fruitless efforts to befriend the stray, "it's supposed to get cold again, you know. That's probably why you're eating so much, huh? I think I heard somewhere that animals have a sixth sense for that kind of thing. Nancy said that birds will leave their nests and travel far away if they sense a storm coming. Can cats do that?" God, he probably looked so lame sitting here, trying to strike up a conversation with an animal that wanted nothing to do with him if it didn't involve food. The cat licked its lips, easing away from the mostly-empty bowl. Steve sighed, a long and low sound, before pushing himself up to his feet.

"Are you done?"

Ocean eyes stared up at him wordlessly. He reached down to collect the bowl, only to snap back when it hissed at him, revealing its delicate and needle-like teeth. Both of Steve's hands came up in surrender.

"Fine, I'll leave it."

The cat grumbled a displeased noise before sitting back on its hind legs. One of his front paws came up, pink tongue lolling out to lick over it, and then he used it to wipe his face. Well, at least he was attempting to clean himself. Kind of a pointless effort when it rummaged around in his trash can every other evening. Steve leaned against his front door, arms crossed over his chest as he took in the darkening evening. Billy peered one ocean eye at him. Always watching. Waiting. Probably thought he was trying to trap him again. The smart thing would be to do that, but…

Steve was lonely. And, as pathetic as it sounded, this was one of the few things he looked forward to every evening.

"It's nice and warm inside," he said offhandedly, nonchalantly, like it was no big deal. A move like that usually worked with the ladies, and they could be finicky like a cat, so why not give it a shot? "And there's a lot more food inside. Water, too. Milk? Can cats have milk? I think Nancy also said--"

Fuck, was he really talking to himself like a loser? This was so lame. Had Steve Harrington really fallen so far from grace that he found solace in a cat of all things?

"Whatever," he sighed before turning the knob and pushing open the door he'd been leaned against, "What I'm trying to say is that you can come inside if you want. As long as you don't pee on anything. Mom'll kill us both."

Billy watched him silently, tail twitching side-to-side behind him in an interested jerk. There was an obvious language barrier but the light spilling out from the interior of the Harrington home looked inviting against the twilight of the evening. The promise of shelter and food was universally understood, and the cat took a tentative step forward. And then another. And then he was pausing to stare up at Steve. Apprehension was written all over its face, but Steve jerked his head and shrugged with a well, what are you waiting for?

That seemed to seal the deal; Billy stepped inside and the door was shut behind him.

—

To say Steve's life was a little strange would be an understatement.

And it was only about to get stranger.

[jellyfishloveletterghosts]

Catboy Steve insisting on laying on Billy’s chest every night at bed time. Not for cuddles not exactly. No he presses the top of his head under Billy’s chest with desperation until he scratches at his shoulder blades and behind his ears. Steve purrs so hard he's drooling into the hollow of Billy’s neck, tail curled over a thick thigh and eyes closed as he smiles and drags a sharp canine against Billy’s chin. On more than one occasion Billy comes out of it with pin prick claw marks on his pecs when Steve forgets himself. Marks Billy will fuss about but inevitably drag Steve back on top of him the next night anyhow when he's doing his chastised self denial thing. Billy can't sleep without their little nightly routine either anymore.

[boltedfruit]

Commissioned by @catharrington​ for their fic, Of collars and flowers, cardigans and second chances

Go read it!

[harmonicawizard]

[cloudinterlude]

Steve would be flame point siamese if he were a cat :) Rare, intelligent, decisive, affectionate (but independent), head of household, ect. Also, the color palette is perfect.

[babysitterpng]

some catboy steves for @shewritesdirty and @cherrydreamer 💖🐱💖

[stevesbigbazoxngas]

You all are WRONG. Steve is not a DOG BOY....HE IS A CAT BOY. HERE'S WHY.

1) Has a favorite person whom he spends almost all of his time interacting with

2. He loves back pats (Natasha gives him back pats, Bucky gives him back pats, Steve gives ppl back pats)

3. Spends a lot of his time alone, in the quiet, in sun spots, curled up somewhere

3.5. On this note! Steve spends a lot of his time alone and in social situations where there are multiple people, he sticks to the fringes and is still pretty quiet, though he does interact alot with his FAVORITE. PEOPLE! Cat!! Thats what cats do!!

4. WHEN hes SAD he GOES AWAY and SULKS BY HIMSELF

5. Stubborn! Cats are not controllable animals, they are very independent and strong-willed...yknow who else is!?!?

6. Throws himself from tall places

7. ......look at him. He is literally a cat.

IN CONCLUSION.....STEVE ROGERS IS A CATBOY

A CATBOY I SAY!!!!

[bigdumbbambieyes]

bambi writes catboy!steve?? it’s more likely than you think…

Billy’s frowning down at the side of the orange juice carton, his blue eyes flicking over the nutritional information in search of the sugar content, when he feels a warm body press to his side and a soft mouth against his freckled shoulder.

“…morn’,” Steve mumbles half asleep, his eyes struggling to stay open as he clings to his boyfriend, his hair a mess around his flicking ears. They always do that whenever Steve wakes up. It’s cute.

Billy spares him a quick glance before letting a small smirk lift the corner of his mouth, his eyes falling back to where they were before, “Sleeping Beauty is finally awake, hm?”

Steve huffs softly, his brows furrowing as he petulantly mutters, “Hungover,” against Billy’s shoulder.

“I told you not to drink that much, but you wanted to be a brat and took two more shots just to spite me,” Billy hums as he turns the carton to inspect if the juice is from concentrate or not. He hears Steve mumble something incoherent before feeling a sharp little pinch on his shoulder, whipping his head over to see Steve biting him.

The pretty boy has the gall to not even look sorry with the front of his teeth gently sinking into Billy’s shoulder, his top lip resting on freckles, big doe eyes peering at him semi-angrily as his ears flatten against the top of his head.

Billy is no stranger to having his boyfriend fucking bite him like a rabid little cat, Steve does it whenever they’re cuddling or having sex, but sometimes he does it when Billy’s annoying him and it’s both parts cute and irritating.

“Get your teeth out of my shoulder so I can make your sorry ass some breakfast,” he says evenly, staring down his boyfriend, who immediately looks conflicted. Breakfast or biting? Always a tough decision.

Ultimately, Steve pulls his sharp little canines back and Billy shuts the fridge, still holding the carton as he slowly makes his way around the kitchen with Steve wrapped around him very inconveniently. It’s how their mornings usually go, anyway.

By the time they’re sitting down for breakfast, Steve picks up his plate from the table and sets it next to his, slipping into Billy’s lap easily while his chest gently rumbles with happy purrs. Billy huffs a quiet laugh around his slice of bacon and gives Steve’s thigh a smack, muttering ‘brat’ as Steve nuzzles his jaw.

[steviespanties]

Catboy!Steve in the most boring grey slacks and white shirt that both don't fit super well but that make Billy want to grab him by the waist or take a nice handful of his ass just to watch Steve's pupils pinprick and his tail get all bushy in excitement while his visibly struggles not to rub himself against Billy's much softer suit🤭

[pinkkinoko]

Not that I can’t draw it, I just don’t, for some reason🧍🏽‍♀️

Idk why I suddenly felt the need to piss on that specific tree (nostalgia???), but anyway, catboy!Steve is Billy’s prissy pussy😌

So how many harringrove fans follow me🤔