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#joe keery fanfiction
ash5monster01 · 17 hours
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Lifetime Tour
Mood board ☆
Pairing: Steve Harrington x FemReader
soulmates au - invisible string theory
Slow down you're doing fine. You can't be everything you want to be before your time 🎶
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Steve always worried if his life would ever amount to anything and then he met you. The woman he’d spend the rest of his life with and he discovers you were meant to be his all along
or
a series of one shots in which your lifetime with Steve Harrington is told through different songs on every Billy Joel album
coming soon
Now Playing: (Songs about us)
1:26 ━━○───── 53:47
↻ ◁ || ▷ ↺
Comment if you want to be added to the taglist for future updates & chapters ♡
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keerysfolklore · 7 months
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Stranger Things S2 BTS ✨
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rustedhearts · 8 months
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Raise Hell (Nascar!Steve x fem!reader)
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summary: nascar driver steve harrington is a hot mess. literally. but when he keeps coming into your diner, staggeringly drunk and adorable, you can’t help but grow fond of him.
uses she/her pronouns and female anatomy.
hot wheels masterlist main masterlist
tags: nascar!steve, reader is referred to as ‘bunny,’ just fluff and flirting.
author’s note: i don’t know much about the mechanics of nascar because i’m more of a formula one fan, so some of the racing terms/descriptions might seem a bit more f1. sorry!
raise hell, praise…harrington?
talladega, alabama, summer 1995
In Talladega, a girl’s got two things to be: a country beauty queen, or stuck at her high school job. Stupid or stuck. You were stuck—specifically, stuck balancing trays of sweet teas and cokes, and burning your palms on the underside of steaming hot burgers and flapjacks. Stuck in the same stupid powder blue uniform and frilly lace apron you’d been swearing since you were seventeen. Sometimes, you started to wonder if you were no longer stuck—just plain stupid.
But two years ago, Nascar saw a new face on the tracks: one Steve Harrington. Donned ‘Pretty Boy’ for his princely good looks and boyish charm, he burned rubber like nobody’s business, and Alabama’s been in an uproar ever since. You normally didn’t welcome midwestern men with such open and loving arms in a place like this, but as the folks say: he’s one of us, honey.
And one of you he became. He even had the slight slur of a southern twang to prove it, and you came to hear it firsthand when he sat at the end of your counter one night last October, bleary-eyed and pink-cheeked.
“What can I get you, Hot Wheels?” You hadn’t meant for the name to slip, but once it was out there, you couldn’t take it back.
Luckily, Steve just laughed. Slumped on his palm, draped over the counter full of old crumbs and sticky syrup, he pointed toward a laminated menu beside him.
“You guys sell fries?”
You gave him a basket of hot, golden french fries fresh out of the fryer, salted to perfection by yours truly. When Steve saw them sitting in front of him, practically overflowing in their red plastic, newspaper-lined confines, his eyes got huge. He devoured the basket in five minutes flat. You turned your back to clean the coffee pot, and when you went to check on him, offer a glass of water to rouse him from drunken stupor, he was gone.
Sitting in his empty, grease-splattered basket were two hundred dollar bills. It’s still the largest tip you’ve ever gotten on such a small bill to date (or…on any bill).
When Steve Harrington stopped by the diner, you went home with a thicker wallet, a swollen heart, and a burning blush on your face.
You always heard his arrival before you saw his face. The smooth, low grumble of his Ferrari engine. His headlights blared through the blinds on the diner windows, whipping with effortless expertise into the front spot near the door. The headlights cut off, and moments later the door chimed as his lean figure stumbled through.
Designer sneakers scuffing the floor, black leather racing jacket with endorsement patches ironed on neat gleaming beneath the white fluorescents of the diner. He smelled like gasoline and boozy cologne—or maybe that was just the booze. Steve's favorite bar was just up the road: a swanky wood-paneled joint with a mechanical bull, and girls just out of college in skimpy denim shorts and leather cowboy boots. He always left with pink-tinged cheeks and a sway in his step, and though you disapproved of getting behind the wheel under the influence, you didn't mind that he raced all the way here just to get to you.
Tonight, like every night, he strode straight toward the counter and took his seat on a squeaky metal stool at the end.
He patted the counter, shot a finger gun at you, and smiled a half-cocked grin. "Hey, pretty girl."
Cheeks blazing, you rolled your eyes as you collected the coffee pot—freshly brewed just for him—and his basket of sizzling, golden fries. You placed the fries in front of him and flipped over a porcelain mug, pouring a steady stream until it pooled around the rim. No room for cream or sugar: how Steve liked it best. He was already five fries in by the time you placed the coffee pot back.
"Hey, Hot Wheels. Catch anythin' good tonight?"
Elbows pressed against the counter, you leaned over the stack of sticky menus and extra ketchup bottles to flash him your sweetest smile. You always laid it on real thick for guys like him. None of 'em tipped like Steve did, and none of 'em were nearly as handsome. None of 'em made you laugh like Steve did. Jesus, how stupid was that?
"Nothin' worth bringin' home, Bun," Steve sighed, head falling to his palm as his fingers made quick work of delivering fries straight to his mouth.
"Better luck next time." You shrugged, though you knew what this game was.
"No," Steve mused, eyes narrowed with a twinkle of mockery, lips coated in shiny grease and flecks of salt. "No, I don't think so. Know who I'd love to take out, though?"
You pulled away from the counter, that familiar flutter in your chest. You reached for the damp rag previously soaked in lemon sanitizing spray, wiping at the crumbs behind the counter. Steve always came in right when you were closing up. The first time he stumbled in, you threatened to kick him out, but something about those stupid puppy dog eyes and that sly, halfway smile made you stop. You always agreed to close on weekends, just to stay back and clean up after the strays and Steve Harrington. The diner was quiet, only the buzz of old lights and the distant whoosh of cars on the road keeping you company until he appeared.
"Who?" you asked, eyes flicking his way as he munched on his fries. The newspaper in his basket crinkled with his eager snatching.
Steve lifted his head, movements slow and bleary, and in your periphery, you could see it follow your every motion. His jacket made his shoulders look broad and big. You could smell the cigarette remnants still on his hands when you moved in front of him again.
"Come on, Bun," he huffed, that poor, sweet attempt at an Alabama drawl clinging to every word. The way he said your given nickname made your heart squeeze.
"Come on, what?" You flashed him a smile, pursed lips and scrunched nose, and he shook his head amusedly at it. He thought you were so beautiful, even in this ridiculous 1950s getup, hair frazzled and face gleaming with heat.
"When are you gonna let me take you out, sweetheart?" he pouted, hand bumping his empty, grease-stained basket when he dropped it to the counter.
Though your insides were stirring and the back of your neck felt like someone was giving it a pinch, you spun on your heel and reached for the coffee pot again, feigning an air of cool ease. You never wanted a man to have the upper hand on you, no matter how pretty that man might be. Your daddy taught you better than that.
Pressing close to the counter, you held the pot midway in the air, hovering, and caught Steve's eye. His were all whiskey brown and muddy green, more hazel than anything. It was only at this moment that you heard the Willie Nelson song humming on the jukebox in the corner. His lips parted when your eyes narrowed, catlike and dreamily charming.
You inched closer, leaning in like you were fixing to whisper a secret. "When you come in sober, Mr. Harrington."
You topped off his untouched coffee, placed the pot back, and sashayed toward the tables to wipe them down (for the second time tonight). Behind you at the counter, Steve gnawed on his lip, head tipping to admire the backs of your thighs where they caught the plump flesh of your ass beneath your shorts. He scoffed to himself, snatching the mug thrumming with heat, slurping at the potent black liquid.
If sober was what you wanted, sober you would get.
♡ ♡
Nascar was always on channel two, and when your manager Rod was working, he insisted on playing it on the tiny television behind the counter. He paced between the office in the sticky kitchen and the space behind the counter, munching on peanuts and sipping a jumbo Pepsi from the morning.
"Rod, maybe you should have somethin' else to eat." You whooshed a platter of burgers and fries over his head as you rushed toward your table.
"Nah, I'm waitin' for that-that Harrin'ton kid to come on," he excused, motioning toward the tv with a salted peanut palm.
You bit back a grin, sliding the plates onto the table for your eager customers. Wiping your hands on your apron, you headed back to the counter and leaned on the other side.
"What, excited to watch his engine crap out again?” you teased, giggling at Rod’s offended expression before flouncing off toward the kitchen for your break.
“That kid might not be from here, but he’s one of us now, Bunny!” Rod called after you, accent thick and slurred loose.
You waved a hand, eyes rolling. “Why d’ you think I give him such a hard time, Rod?”
You heard his hoarse chuckle as you hopped up on the empty steel tabletop in the kitchen, snatching a soggy fry from a half-empty basket. The cooks all murmured about a table that sent back a burger (there’s always one), and asked you about your shift today. The occasional ‘how are the kids,’ and ‘your garden holding up well in this heat?’ ensued, but most of them knew that when you had a moment to yourself back here, you preferred it in silence.
Billy, a line cook a few years older than yourself, whizzed by with a greasy silver spatula and a plate of perfect, crispy grilled cheese. He slipped it onto your lap as he passed, eye dropping in a wink, before he returned to the grill. You grinned in thanks, picking up the warm, shiny sandwich.
You were halfway through the first triangular slice when a holler jolted you on the table. You dropped the slice, rushing to place the plate on the table and skitter into the dining room again. Head whipping around, you searched for some sort of disaster—a hurt child, a choking customer—and found Rod screaming at the television, red-faced and glistening with sweat.
Huffing, you collapsed against the counter. “Rod, what the hell?”
Rod didn’t tear his eyes away from the television as he smacked his hands together. “Aw, come on! His car’s crappin’ out, he’s gon’ have t’ leave the race.”
You shifted toward the television, preparing to scoff at the urgency of Rod’s statement when sparks skidded over the track on the screen. Even in their pixelated form, the sparks were bright and sharp as a firework on independence day. You watched the cherry red car bounce, jostling the driver inside—clear cause for a biting backache. The car veered left, then right, then toward the off track where Steve stopped it.
Rod cursed, slapping his knee and shaking his head.
“Got-damnit,” he shrilled, easing up from the stool. “When’re they gonna put ‘im in a car that actually drives?”
Rolling your eyes and attempting to ignore the ball of worry the size of Texas aching in your chest, you slid away from the counter and headed back toward the kitchen where your food waited.
“When are you gonna get t’ work, Rod?”
“Eh.”
♡ ♡
That night, you soaked the linoleum in lemon cleaner and scrubbed at the vinyl booths, lights dimmed to keep customer count low until you actually closed. Rod left a few hours ago, and only a handful of cooks lingered in the back, shooting the shit and sharing smokes. You liked having the dining room to yourself while you closed up, humming along the radio and watching the road through the windows. You fantasized about a life with enough money to never wipe a table again.
Given the day he had on the track, the last person you expected to see that night was Steve Harrington. So when the door chimed open and shoes squeaked across the freshly-cleaned tile, you whirled around with a customer-approved smile in preparation for a sweet but curt “we’re about to close.” However, the customer service facade dimmed at the sight of that familiar pretty face and those colorful ironed-on insignias.
“Hey, Bun.” He sounded breathless and beat.
"Hey," you squeaked, dumbfounded by the sight of him.
The outline of his helmet still sat on his face: aggravated red lines indented around his eyes, across his cheeks and nose. His hands, Ferrari-red and raw, trembled as they swept through his tousled hair. "Mind if I sit, Bun? Long day."
Which is how he ended up slumped in a clean booth, head of slick locks thumped against the glass. It felt odd to see him in an actual seat instead of his usual at the bar, but he needed the rest. You could only imagine the sort of strain a car going 200 miles an hour while jerking around had on someone.
You slipped into the kitchen, and with a meek and quiet plead, had the cooks make one last batch of fries fresh for Steve before they left. Just enough for the driver to get his strength back up and feel at home again. The fried pile of grease glistened and sizzled in their plastic confinement on the way out of the kitchen, a cold glass of Pepsi fizzing in your other hand.
You brought them to the man still drooped in the furthest booth, head tipping to find his eyes. "Steve?"
"Hmm?" Blearily, the racer sat upright and blinked at you.
Flashing him a fond smile, you pushed the basket of fries closer to him. "Food."
"Oh."
He munched on the crispy golden potatoes for a while in silence. The back door clinked with the absence of cooks. You thought about getting up to flip the sign over to 'sorry we're closed!' but you couldn't find it in yourself to leave the table. Eventually, you slid into the booth across from him and watched him eat. He sucked down the Pepsi through a striped straw like a toddler gulping apple juice.
"Why did you come here tonight? I mean...you're in no shape, Hot Wheels," you remarked, watching him rub his fingers free of salt.
Steve's eyes flickered toward you below his brows, chin tipped toward his food. He straightened up when he saw you watching, giving his shoulders a shrug. He smelled like scorched rubber, gasoline, and a bit of bourbon-whisky.
"Had a shit day," he muttered, eyes returning to his fries with urgency. "Knew seein’ you would cheer me up."
A flutter disrupted the rhythm thumping in your chest. You felt it in your throat, too, settling like indigestion. You swallowed harshly to clear it away, easing the wonderment in your face with a little grin. Steve went back to finishing the thin strips of fry remnants sitting at the bottom of his basket.
Stripped free of liquored charm and that 'pretty boy' suave, Steve Harrington actually seemed...sweet.
"Hey, Hot Wheels?"
Steve looked up, lips glassy with grease. "Yeah?"
"You can take me on that date now."
♡ ♡
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lockwoodsean-archive · 4 months
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𝐈 𝐂𝐚𝐧 𝐓𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡 𝐘𝐨𝐮
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pairing : inexperienced!gator tillman x fem!reader
contents : smut 18+, oral (f!receiving), fingering, squirting, there’s really nothing more to this lol
a/n : this was written for an anon asking for inexperienced!gator. reblogs and feedback are highly encouraged! masterlist.
word count : 1,6k
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you’ve been best friends for as long as you can remember, gator was even your first kiss. it was when you were thirteen and it was very innocent. you’ve never done anything further because you didn’t want to ruin your friendship.
now, you’re adults and you’re just hanging out at your apartment. you got him into wine (he refused to drink it but now it’s his guilty pleasure), and things start getting confessional. somehow you landed on the topic of sex and gator sheepishly admits he’s never actually eaten a girl’s pussy before.
he’s looking down, and kind of swirling the wine in the glass. “i don’t know. it’s not that i don’t want to, i just chicken out. what if i do it wrong, and it’s wicked embarrassing. she’ll tell her friends about it. i know you guys talk.”
you do feel bad for him, but you giggle, “you’re right, we do,” you paused, and the craziest idea popped into your brain. it was definitely the wine talking, but a part of you wanted to do it too. “what if i taught you?”
gator looked up so quick you thought his neck was going to snap. his eyes were wide, and his mouth started moving, but no words were coming out. you shrugged your shoulders. “it doesn’t need to be weird or anything. it’s just a friend helping a friend. no strings attached.”
you held out your pinky to promise him that he could trust you. it was maybe childish, but that’s how you’ve both always made promises to each other. gator was hesitant, but then linked his pinky with yours. “okay, you can teach me.”
you smile at him. you take the glass from his hand. you place your glasses onto the coasters on your coffee table, then stand up. you grab gator’s hand to pull him onto his feet, and lead him to your bedroom. he was holding his breath the entire time. you make it to the edge of your bed, and you notice how stiff he is. “gator, relax. i’ll be guiding you through it. don’t overthink anything.”
he balled his fists up and released them a couple of times, and relaxed his shoulders. he closed his eyes to take a deep breath, and when he opened them, they almost bulged out of his head. you had removed your underwear and sweatpants, and you were leaning back on your pillows with your legs spread. gator went from not breathing at all to borderline hyperventilating at the sight of your bare cunt.
“get over here! you’re not going to learn anything from standing three feet away from me the entire time.” even though you were teasing him, your light tone was reassuring to gator. it really wasn’t a big deal.
he slowly crawled toward you on the bed. when he got even closer, he stared even more at your exposed state. you didn’t even feel embarrassed, or self conscious. maybe if it was a random guy you met on tinder, but this was gator, your best friend. gator lowered himself, and hooked his arms under your knees. dark, brown eyes looked into yours as he waited for his instructions.
you propped yourself up on your elbows so that you could watch him. “this is all, like, really easy if you do it right. trust me. just start by flattening your tongue, and licking a stripe upward.”
gator looked between your face and your pink folds, fully on display in front of him. he lowered his head, doing what you told him. he looked a bit like he was licking an ice cream cone, but it didn’t stop a shiver from running up your spine. he licked a few more times, and you felt him gain more confidence when he heard your breath start to go uneven.
“good, you’re doing good. now you wanna latch here,” you circled your clit with your middle finger. “and suck.”
the way his big eyes looked up at you was almost innocent. you’d never seen him like this. it made your chest feel warm. he licked a single stripe through your folds once more, before wrapping his lips around your bundle of nerves. your head fell back, and a quiet moan involuntarily left your mouth. without even being told, he swirled his tongue, then used his tongue to flick the bud.
when you looked back down at him, he was still studying your face to make sure he was doing everything right. it was safe to say that your facial expressions gave him a nonverbal answer. “you—you can add your fingers,” you stuttered out.
gator only came up for a short breath, and to shift to unhook his right arm from your leg. he took in the sight of your glistening folds, and ran his fingers along the edges of your pussy. you whimpered because they were so close to where you wanted them. he then brought his fingers back up to his own mouth to suck on his fingers to lube them. he moaned around his digits, not realising how much of you he could taste on his fingers alone.
he removed them from his mouth, then forced them into your tiny hole. you knew gator had long fingers, but you didn’t realise just how long they were until now. they reached a place inside of you that your own fingers could never get to. gator reattached his lips back to your, now, red, and swollen clit.
you looked down at the man, something about him so blindly, and innocently following every direction you gave him, caused butterflies in your stomach. gator found a steady rhythm, pumping his fingers in and out, and flicking your clit with his tongue. he crooked his fingers, looking for your sweet spot. it didn’t take him long at all. your cunt squeezed around his fingers, and you felt the bastard smile against your mound.
the heat started to rise in your stomach, and you weren’t ready to cum yet, not until he was fucking you with his tongue. you could tell how turned on gator was from how he was rutting his hips against the mattress, trying to get any kind of friction for some relief. he took a break from your clit to place butterfly kisses along your inner thighs, and just around where you were so sensitive.
“jesus, you taste amazing. if every girl tastes like this, i’ve been missing out. i feel like i could stay down here forever.” you couldn’t say you’d be opposed to the idea of that.
you knew that you wouldn’t be able to hold off much longer, so you outright asked, “can you fuck me with your tongue?”
gator looked up, grinning like a devil. “hell, yes. i can do that.”
he dove back between your thighs, licking and sucking at your wet pussy like a man starved. to be fair, he was. he ran his fingers through your slick folds, then spread your lips apart. your arousal started leaking down and pooling under your ass. you probably should’ve laid out a towel before doing this, but it was too late now.
“wow, i can’t believe i made you so wet. you’re fucking dripping just from my mouth,” gator sounded so proud of himself, and frankly it was really cute. “i’m gonna make you cum.”
“do it then,” you dared.
gator plunged his tongue into your hole, making you mewl. you wanted to grab at his hair to keep his head in place, but you didn’t want it to be too much for him. you grabbed ahold of the sheets instead. he slurped at your juices, and the combination of that and his spit joined the damp spot under you. you’d never heard a sound so beautiful and disgusting before.
he added back his fingers, and they move inside you impossibly fast. your legs spread even wider, trying to feel more of him. you pant, “oh my fucking god. don’t fucking stop.”
gator’s mouth moves from your hole, back to your clit. this time he’s sucking even harder, and flicking his tongue faster in time with his fingers. each thrust of his slender fingers, they brush against your spongey spot, and this time you’re not holding anything back.
you stop holding yourself up, and fall back against the pillows. your moans fill the room along with the sounds of gator sucking on your clit, and his fingers inside your squelching pussy. your walls tighten, and the coil in your stomach snaps. “i’m cumming. fuck, fuck, fuck—”
your legs tremble as you try not to squeeze them around gator’s head. you squeezed your eyes shut, and saw a flash of white behind your eyelids. you felt your pussy spasming, and clear liquid squirted everywhere, coating gator’s wrist, and the bottom half of his face.
it didn’t slow him down, if anything it encouraged him to keep his fingers pumping, and licking at your folds. he moaned against your clit, and the vibration sent an extra jolt of electricity through your body.
when you were able to come to your senses again, you looked down at gator. he pulled himself up to sit on his haunches, and wiped at his mouth. “so, how’d i do?”
you sat up, moving away from the wetness on your bed and laughed. the question wasn’t entirely necessary because you both knew the obvious answer. “you did great. very quick learner. are you sure you’ve never done that before?”
“never,” gator smirked.
you looked down and noticed a damp patch on gator’s sweatpants. “did you—?”
he looked down, and his cheeks turned crimson. “yeah, sorry… i honestly didn’t mean to. this is so embarrassing.”
“it’s not,” you promised. “maybe at the next lesson i can make things even?”
gator cocked an eyebrow out of intrigue. “next lesson? i thought i aced my lesson.”
you looked up in thought, then grinned at him. “think of it as extra credit.”
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joekeeryswife · 5 months
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joe keery has such strong dad energy, especially in recent photos from italy. can you write about joe traveling in italy with you and your baby daughter? i just know he’d be the type to wear his kid around and splash in the water with her, and fall asleep in the sun with her on his chest, and feed her little bites of pasta. with you, he’d make sure that your vacation was relaxing and that you felt treated like a goddess. insecure about wearing a bikini? joe can’t stop blushing when he looks at you in it even if you’ve been married for years. while the baby is napping, he massages your feet and cuddles with you. in turn, you set up reservations at his favorite restaurants and plan manageable but gorgeous walks around the city. idk man just dad!joe on vacation
Italy - j.k
a/n: hello angels. how have you all been? i’m so sorry i’ve been MIA lately but i’m back and better than ever! this request is adorable! let’s get into the imagine. it’s not proof read so please bare with me if this is shit lmfao, im still trying to get back into the swing of writing, i also can never seem to figure out how to end my imagines so if anyone has any tips please LMK!! for the ending the outfits are in the little collage🫧
taglist🫧
@johnricharddeacy @theshireisonfire @ssababe @phantomxoxo @livsters @hellfire1986baby @ladyapplejackdnd @alexxavicry @m-rae23 @sheisjoeschateau @kaverichauhan @missabsey @chxrrysprxut @thefrontofmymind @nightmonkeyparker @carinacassiopeiae @cherrymedicine13 @waratah-moon @minsugafour @k-k0129 @limelight23 @alwaysteveswife @krazykatkay456 @lma1986 (it’s been a while so lmk if you want to be removed 🫧)
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“baby come on we wanna get to the pool, what’s taking you so long-” Joe barged into the bathroom without knocking making you jump out of your skin. after having your daughter Florence a year and a half ago you had been insecure about your new body.
you were curvier then before, had a few stretch marks scattered all over your body which had faded but in your eyes they were so visible. you just didn’t feel like yourself and with this being your first holiday since having her, you were nervous.
nervous that you didn’t look as good as you did before, nervous that you were gonna get papped and people online would say awful things about you, nervous people were gonna stare.
but to Joe, the sweetest man ever thought you’d never looked better. you had carried a whole human for 9 months and you looked incredible. “Joe, you scared me” you placed a hand on your chest and turned to look at him.
Joe looked at you, eyes darting across your body, seeing you in a bikini for the first time in over a year made him feel tingly. his face heated up “you look beautiful baby, jesus christ you’re gorgeous” he saw your eyes light up slightly.
Florence was in her playpen which you had brought along to keep her occupied, Joe had made sure she was safe before coming to look for you. even after five years of being together and three years of marriage, just looking at you made Joe feel giddy. he was so lucky to have you in his life.
you were the most beautiful woman he had ever seen and he couldn’t ever get over your beauty. Joe knew what you were doing in the bathroom, he had caught you one too many times and he hated that you felt insecure.
he walked toward you and pulled you into him “my pretty girl” he kissed your head as he hugged you closer. “you’ve never looked so beautiful” you smiled shyly. there was something about Joe, he always knew how to make you feel beautiful. he had a special way with words.
“come on, don’t want to keep you and flo waiting any longer” you said as you pulled yourself away from the hug. he ran back to Florence who squealed when she saw her dad, the two of them were best friends and although it made you jealous their relationship was your favourite thing ever.
seeing the two of them bonding was the most adorable thing in the entire world. even when she was in the womb he would spend hours and hours speaking to your bump with her kicking you in response. “my angel, let’s go. mama is almost ready” you heard him say as he picked Florence up out of the playpen, she squealed in delight as he did.
-♡-
the three of you were lounging around the pool, Italy was boiling hot and luckily the hotel you were staying at had a kids pool and an adult pool. Florence was a baby who loved the water, she never cried when having a bath, if anything she enjoyed it.
splashing around with her toys was her favourite thing to do. she loved your pool that you had back home, every time it was hot Joe would take her into the pool. your friends kids were a bit older than Florence and she loved watching them play in the pool too.
as soon as you and Joe got situated on your sun loungers he grabbed Florence and walked straight to the kid section which was thankfully right in front of you. you watched Florence splash the pool water with her toys, the biggest smile on her face.
Joe was sat opposite her with the exact same expression on his face. it was honestly scary how much Florence looked like him. they had practically all the same features except she had your eyes, she was a carbon copy of him.
aside from the fact that Florence and Joe where best friends and looked exactly like each other the worst of it all was when Florence said her first word which was of course ‘dada’. you had prayed that she said ‘mama’ first but nope. it wasn’t like it actually hurt your feelings, your daughter had days where you were the favourite parent and it made you tear up when she finally did say ‘mama’ for the first time.
Joe and Florence had only been sat in the kid pool for thirty minutes before his back started hurting but the look on his daughters face made it all worth it. other than you, Florence was the best thing to ever happen to him. before her, he didn’t really care about being a dad. it wasn’t something he had ever thought about. but that sunny Friday afternoon, the day you told him, showed him the positive test, he never thought he could love someone as much as he loved her.
“dada” Florence said as she looked up at him and lifted up a purple octopus for him to take. “oh thank you angel” he took the toy from her small hand. Joe watched Florence with the softest smile, she was the most adorable thing ever and he couldn’t get over the fact that you guys had made something so beautiful. Florence paused playing with her toys and yawned. Joe knew exactly what that meant, she only yawned when she needed a nap, it sounded odd because everyone yawns but the little eye rub after her yawn made it obvious. she was tired.
after waking up early (6:37am to be exact but who was checking? definitely not Joe) eating breakfast and all this playing in the pool, the girl had worn herself out. “come on sweetheart, you look like you’re about to fall asleep” Joe said as he stood up, picking up her few toys and shoving them in her pockets and then bending down to pick her up. she had her small arms lifted in the air, her eyes squinting as she looked up at Joe.
he picked her up and made his way back over to you. you where laying on the sun lounger now reading a book with your airpods in. you noticed Joe walking back with Florence hugging him tightly. you took one airpod out and smiled at the two of them. “you okay?” you asked, sitting up. Joe picked up the towel that was on his sun lounger and wrapped it around both him and Florence. “yeah, she just got tired. i mean, it’s around the time she usually has a nap isn’t it?” you looked at the time in your phone and nodded. “yeah, she’s actually stayed awake a lot longer then i thought she would”
Joe sat laid down on the sun lounger, making sure Florence was comfortable before he started running his hand up and down her back and through her hair. it didn’t take long for her to fall asleep, her breathing slowed and she was completely relaxed against him so you went back to your book, letting the two of them have their moment.
it was about 10 minutes after Joe and Florence had sat down and the soft snores was the only thing you could hear from the two of them, it didn’t take long for Joe to fall asleep. he was just as tired as Florence was. you turned your attention to the two of them and felt your heart melt. your two favourite people in your company were the moments you treasured the most.
-♡-
“come on Joe i know it takes ten hours to do your hair but we are gonna be late” you said jokingly as you picked up Florence who was dressed in a white dress with the cutest sandals you’d ever seen, it was the last night in Italy before you went home tomorrow night and you wanted to do something special for Joe. he had planned this whole trip for you, knowing you needed a break from your town and the paparazzi (it’s not like you hit a break from that because they followed you everywhere!).
he needed to be appreciated just as much as he appreciated you and sometimes you struggled to do that with Florence. you weren’t saying that you didn’t love being a mum because you did, however sometimes you and Joe hardly spoke to each other because you were so focused on her.
“i’m coming honey, sorry” he came out of the bathroom with his hair perfectly styled, per usual, and he was wearing a comfortable but smart outfit. black jeans, blue t-shirt, let’s just say he looked perfect. he sat on the bed and put on his trainers and started doing the laces up, he stood up and kissed you on the cheek “you look beautiful baby” you smiled and thanked him with a a passionate kiss.
“and look at my angel” he took Florence out of your arms gently “you look perfect my sweet girl” he kissed her cheek a few times which made her squeal and hide her face in his neck. “right, let’s go, we can’t be late for whatever your mama’s planned can we?” you had seen a a popular restaurant all over social media which about fifteen minute walk from the hotel you were staying at which you also remembered was Joe’s favourite. he had been to Italy a few times and had always gone there with his friends and you had told him a few months ago when planning this trip that you couldn’t get a reservation which he was actually a little upset about. you and him hadn’t ever been there together and he wanted to take you there because he knew you’d love it. it was a surprise for him that you actually did get one. it wasn’t the best surprise out there but you knew it would mean something to him.
as the two of you walked hand in hand, Joe had Florence on his shoulders laughing as her dad played around with her. after about twenty minutes (due to Joe messing about) you guys approached the small town where the restaurant was and Joe’s eyes lit up, he could see the restaurant sign and turned his head to look at you.
“are we going in there?” he squeezed your hand slightly as his body filled with excitement. “yeah, i got us a reservation and wanted to surprise you. it’s not a huge thing but i knew you would like it” his heart melted, that’s one thing he loved most about you. always remembering the little things he had said and trying your best to get those things sorted. he had said about going here ages ago and honestly he had forgotten about it but you, you didn’t and you made sure you got one.
“aww honey, that’s so sweet of you” he let go of your hand and pulled you into his side and wrapped his arm around your waist. he kissed your cheek softly as the two of you continued walking towards the busy looking restaurant.
once sat inside the restaurant you sat opposite Joe with Florence in a high chair at the end next to both of you. she was babbling away in her own little language. Joe replied to everything she said as if he knew what she was saying but it made her happy, she had a smile on her face showing her four small teeth. “last night in Italy. is it bad that i want to live here forever?” Joe said as he turned his attention back to you.
you shook your head “no, it’s beautiful here” you smiled, if you could move to Italy you would, the houses were beautiful, the people were lovely, the views were gorgeous, so what was stopping you?. “maybe we could move here. i mean, not now obviously but sometime in the future we could” Joe said as he ran a hand through his hair.
“also just changing the subject, i really appreciate you doing this for us” he started but you rolled your eyes jokingly “Joe, all i did was make a reservation it’s not that big of a deal” you laughed but he took ahold of your hand and looked at you “it is to me. you went out if your way to get us in here and that’s just a small piece of what you do for us. you take care of flo when i’m away working which fucking kills me but you keep it together, make sure she’s okay and even make sure i’m okay and i’m not even there before you make sure you’re alright yourself. when we are at home together the only time we see each other is when we are in bed and at that point one of us is usually asleep. i know you miss up our date nights and even just being together in general” he was stroking your hand gently as he spoke.
“this vacation has been the best thing for us because we’ve actually spent time together which we rarely do. we have completely different schedules so i know it’s hard but after this movie is over i’m taking a break and i’m going to focus on you and flo. you’re my main priority and i need to spend time with you.” he kissed your hand and smiled.
“we do need to spend more time together and i do miss our dates, they were my favourite” his smile softened and his grip on your hand tightened ever so slightly. “i know, so that’s what we are doing. i’ll get someone to look after Florence and we will do something together” with happy your heart melting you leaned over the table enough to kiss him. you could feel him smile into the kiss which you always loved him doing, you didn’t know why, you just did.
“i love you” you said as you pulled away to sit back down “i love you more” you felt your cheeks heat up. you heard a small whine from the little lady who was sat next to you which made you both turn to look at her. she had the smallest frown on her face which made both you a Joe laugh “and we couldn’t forget our favourite girl” he said pulling her out of her high chair and placing her on his lap, smothering her with small kisses which made her giggle, making your heart melt at the sight. your favourite people in the world.
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ddejavvu · 1 year
Note
Kurt fucking you in the back of his spree my beloved <3
Always sets a towel down for you because if he’s gonna cum inside you, and eat you out till you squirt, the least he can do is make sure it’s sanitary for his passengers. Kurt will lick most of the mess up. Just at least him him record you licking the mess he can’t reach off of his face. Your mess, while he’s red and panting and his tongue is fuzzy out of his mouth. (He may even have a million recordings from his dash cam, of him and you fucking in every available position in that Prius)
holy shit.
this post is 18+, minors dni.
"Look at this," Kurt breathes, chest heaving with deep breaths as an after-effect of his orgasm, "You're- god, you're full. You're leaking."
"Kurt," You whimper, hips squirming in sensitivity as your cunt remembers the feeling of Kurt's hard cock dragging against its insides, "Please, just do something!"
"I will," He croons, angling his camera closer towards your dripping pussy, spreading his free hand over your stomach, "I will, babe, just- wow."
You're sure your cunt is a sight, sticky and dripping with obscene amounts of Kurt's cum. He cums hard, he cums fast, and he cums a lot. You're almost worried he'll wait to eat it out of you until he's regained a proper breathing pattern, but you know he'd rather suffocate in your pussy than hold himself back from it.
"Here," He sets the camera on the center console, turning it to face him as he hikes your thighs up over his shoulders, "Sorry, babe, I just- I had to get a good shot."
"Mhm," You nod, watching him with desperate eyes as he adjusts your positioning, teeth digging into your lip, "Quick, Kurt, please!"
"On it," He mumbles, nose bumping your clit as he dives in. His tongue presses flat to your slit, collecting the smears of his own cum that had oozed out from between your lips. It puts pressure against your slit that only makes you ache more for penetration, reigniting a slowly dying fire from after he'd pulled out.
"Oh my- god!" You gasp, hips jerking upwards into his face and thighs squeezing his head. His tongue prods sharply in through your slit, a gush of his cum mixed with your slick pouring onto his tongue. He nearly chokes on it, teeth scraping your clit and jolting it with a zing of electricity where his face had been unceremoniously smashed into your cunt.
He whimpers against your warm, wet cunt, the sound reverberating around your insides in a vibration that shakes you to your core. You're shamelessly squeezing his head with your thighs now, and you're not sure he can breathe, but you are sure he doesn't care whether he can or not. He's happy, and he'll want 'died eating pussy' on his tombstone.
Needy, rampant moans flow from your throat with all the grace of a man on fire, but that's exactly how you feel, Kurt's tongue dragging a trail of heat from just below your ass to the hood of your clit. You're not sure if it's the leftover high from when he'd cum, the sound of his release squelching inside of you as he tongues it, or the way that he whines into your pussy, but maybe it's a combination of all three that makes you squirt.
The feeling of your cum splattering his face doesn't deter Kurt, it might even make him more eager. He cleans you up until your legs tremble, and tears threaten to spill from your eyes.
"Kurt," You beg, tugging on his hair, "Please, please too- too much!'
"I'm not done," He begs, tongue sweeping a glob of cum off of your inner thigh, "Please, just- just a little more!"
"I can't-!" You cry out when he dips his tongue back between your folds one last time, lapping up the last smear of cum from inside of you and leaving you a sticky, drooly mess.
"Sit up," He urges you, slipping his hands behind your back and making sure you're in the camera's line of sight, "And- and clean me up, babe."
He takes your chin in his hands, tilting it so that you're slack-jawed and panting only inches from his face. When you arch upwards and drag your tongue along his cum-stained chin he moans, a similarly sticky tongue on display as his jaw drops.
You lick him clean with a series of sloppy, open-mouthed kisses that eventually land on his tongue, gathering the sheen of slick that lays on its surface and smearing it between your own tongue and his.
He lets it transition into a sloppy kiss, all drool and tongue and teeth until your lips are bitten raw and spit seeps down your lips.
It's only when you break away to slump your forehead onto his face and breathe that he remembers the camera, reaching for it and showcasing the shine of your spit on his chin.
"Love you," He murmurs, positioning the camera in his lap so that it gets a shot of your sweat-beaded, fucked-out face.
You nod, lips stinging and slick with drool, eyes drooping shut as you breathe, "Love you too, Kurt."
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indouloureux · 2 years
Text
chateau (feel alright)
steve harrington x reader
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summary: with your insomnia driving you insane, steve goes through the sleepless night helping you fall asleep in his arms.
word count: 3, 577
warnings: insomnia, fluff, smut mdni 18+
a/n: i was like halfway through my mcu peter fic then my brain stopped and told me to write steve??? anyway this is kinda short so bear with me pls hope you guys enjoy
MASTERLIST
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explicit warnings: sleepy sex, slight choking, praise kink creampie, oral f receiving, fingering, multiple orgasms (like two lol)
-
1. shower, 12:34am
“(y/n)?”
Steve’s awakened by the soft pattering of the shower hitting the ceramic floor. His upper body cold with the lack of your warmth, and he immediately thinks that this was one of those nights – the unsleeping mind taking over your poor lethargic body.
He glances to the bedside table and faintly sees your notebook left open with a pencil on the edge. Steve scoots upward and takes the notebook into his large hands, opening the lamp to read your list. In the dim glow, your hand writing presents yourself to him in messy cursive written on the thin lined paper, a list you’d done years ago for nights like these.
It’s not your fault, really, rather it’s the Hawkins’ freakish encounters that keep you up late at night staring at the window, waiting for the inevitable. And a few weeks ago it had been okay – you’d been sleeping right on time, with the help of Steve's tactile touch and sweet loving.
Until right now. For some unknown reason. And he feels the guilt creep up to his chest at the thought that he may have not done enough.
Steve must have woken up too late because he hears the shower turn off. The light seeps through the bottom of the door, and turns off when the lock clicks. Steve places the notebook beside him and rubs the sleep off his eyes, bare chest nipped by the cold air that seeps through the ajar window.
You open the door, clad in a white towel that covers your body, residue water dripping down the carpeted floor. Steve frowns, pushing the covers off his legs to walk over to you, socked feet padding against the floor as he stares at your awfully pretty face that’s sunken by disappointment.
Your back is hunched with the upsetting weight of inertia on your shoulders. Steve places his hands on your shoulders and straightens them, rubbing the wet hair off your forehead. He cups your face, thumbs rubbing your eyebags.
“Hey,” you murmur. “Did I wake you?”
Steve shakes his head, smelling lavender and soap off your body, hands running up and down your shoulders. “No. Just woke up by myself, don’ worry.”
“Yeah,” you tell him, slipping on your underwear, not bothering to wear a bra. “It’s happening again, Steve. I’m sorry.”
Steve doesn’t care being late at night with you, as he’s told you many times before. But he does mind the sadness that creeps up your face when the tiredness can’t let you sleep in those opprobrious nights.
Steve doesn’t care being late at night with you, as he’s told you many times before. But he does mind the sadness that creeps up your face when the tiredness can’t let you sleep in those opprobrious nights.
He instructs you to raise your hands and slips on your shirt, careful not to hit your face and smiles when your head peeks through. “‘s alright, babe. I’ll stay up with you.”
Shaking your head, you secure the shorts around your waist and take the towels off his hands. Steve brushes your hair out of your face, running a hand through your slick tresses and untangle the knots. “You don’t have to.”
“I want to,” he places a hand on the back of your neck and kisses your forehead, letting his lips linger on your damp skin before he pulls away to massage wipe droplets off your eyelids. “I’ll be with you till you fall asleep, doll.”
2. read a book, 12: 39am
Steve’s head rests on your shoulder, hair lit into a soft brown provided by the orange light of the lamp beside you. A blanket covering both of your enervated bodies, there’s a hand that runs through his hair, and a hand on your book.
He turns the pages for you when you kiss his forehead, fighting his slowly blinking eyes and tries to read with you. But he finds the book you’re reading awfully disturbing, and when he reads a part that snaps his eyes wide open, Steve looks at you with a befuddled gaze.
“Baby, that book’s messed up,” he mumbles, wrapping the blanket closer around him. The soft fabric tickles your skin, and whilst pushing the glasses up your nose, you kiss his forehead. “I’m not turning that page. Let’s read something else.”
“No,” you whine, pulling on his arm when he tries to get up. “Mike told me to read this and I promised him I’d finish it so I can tell him what happens.”
He snorts, pushing your glasses back up when it continues to fall down your nose. “You’re reading a book so you can tell him what happens in it?” Steve shakes his head. "That kid's spoiled rotten."
There’s an incredulous look on his face that mingles with amusement, because he can’t believe you’re doing this for Mike, of all people. “Yeah. I mean, it’s interesting. It’s a killing, shapeshifting clown.”
“Who eats children,” he points out. “Why don’t you read something friendly? Like…like The Polar Express.” Steve looks up at you with puppy dog eyes, excitement riddling in his face at the mention of a child's book being read.
Your heart melts and breaks at the same time, because you know his excitement for it comes from the lack of affection he gets from his ignorant parents. And just like him, you intend to give love to his empty heart.
But you'd do it on another day. “I’d rather not.”
You kiss his forehead again, and he finally flips the page. He remains silent for the whole time, because he craves more of your soft lips on his skin, and he quietly relishes in your loving hands toy with his hair.
At some point, he's requested for you to read it aloud and you do. Which is a thing he regrets as he's on the verge of falling asleep as you do so, especially when you start reading faster and the kisses become frequent.
The sleep’s phantom hovers but never really mingles, and Steve tries to help you fall asleep faster by kissing everywhere on your shoulder, like it used to work. But when it doesn’t, his arm comes across your waist and tugging you closer to him, hopefully giving you some of his sleep.
3. solve a puzzle, 1: 40am
The gelid water keeps Steve awake as he frowns at the missing puzzle pieces, fingers tapping on his chin as blurry eyes look for the tiny squared cardboards.
“Do you know what that is?” you tap his shoulder and tilt your head sideway, neck gauche in its position. “Looks like a deformed lamb, babe.”
He looks down under the table, the lack of light blending in the pieces onto the floor. Steve hears the rapid clicking of the rubik’s cube you’re trying to solve while you simultaneously look for the other pieces.
“Baby, why are you looking there? It couldn’t have gotten that far.”
“But maybe it got blown away,” you crouch and rest your upper body on the ground to peek beneath the sofa, and still with the darkness, you don’t see anything.
Steve drinks his water and looks at the puzzle. “It actually does look like a deformed lamb. Look, he’s missing his eyes. I-I don’t think this ones supposed to go there.”
“I don’t think this is tiring me out at all.” You stand up, back aching the slightest. Steve makes his way to you, a hand to your back to rub the ache off, offering you his water. “We can do number four now.”
You take a sip, Steve holding the glass for you as your boyfriend’s eyes brighten, and suddenly the sleep is fully off his body and now he’s tugging his shirt off. “Great. I’m gonna fuck your brains out.”
4. have sex, 1: 48am
Steve’s got his mouth hot on yours, kissing you wild like he's been starved as his mouth widens and pushes his tongue inside, touching yours before he closes his lips and sinks deeper.
Your hand comes up to tug on his hair, pulling on the back of his neck as his barely covered cock grinds on your clothed cunt, damp underwears colliding, friction eliciting a low moan on your warm mouths.
"Steve," you whimper, leg coming up to press your clit on his dick. "Touch me."
He inhales your scent, breaking away and kisses his way to your already sweating neck. "Where are your manners, doll?"
Panting, you grab on his shoulders when he starts biting on the juncture of your neck, suckling until he's certain a mark would leave. "Please, Steve. Please please please."
"You'll be a good girl?" the indentation of his smile on your neck tickles you, leaving feather light kisses on the spot you're the most sensitive to. "'d you promise to be a good girl when I fuck you?"
"Yeah," you nod, pulling his face back to yours and kiss his lips. Soft, effervescent. "I'll be a good girl for you."
And so he moves down, kissing his way down your clothed top until he bites on the garter of your sleep shorts, fingers hooking underneath to pull it down with your damp panties coming with.
"God, baby, your pussy's so pretty," he looks up at you, senses the heat rushing to your face and possibly everywhere. "Pussy's so pretty you should feel how hard my cock is."
Steve throws it aside, cock hardening at the sight of your cunt glistening from the minimal light the streetlights give. You're already panting despite the lack of touch he's giving you. With his eyes looking up at you with pupils in a dusk of lustful haze, his tongue sticks out and presses the flat of his thick muscle on your folds.
He moans at your sweetness, pulling back to slip the tip of his tongue between your puffy folds and dragged up in a slow pace that has you mewling with your back arched up against nothing. Steve doesn't stop until he's reached your clit, lazily wrapping his lips around the bud and suckling its arousal.
"You taste so good, baby," a loud, obscene sound created between his lips and your wetness. "So fucking sweet even early in the morning, hm?"
When you move too much at his teasing suckles, his hands slither beneath your thighs until they press flat on your stomach, legs spread as far as they could and thighs locked in place. Steve's access is wide and with his attainability does he take advantage of your cunt open and pretty for him, tongue dragging between your folds and clit but never really going to where you want him.
Hands stopping from clutching the ivory sheets, they go down to tug on Steve's hair, moaning lewdly. "Baby," you whimper. "Stop teasing."
"But I'm supposed to tire you out," he breaks away, lips covered in slick and spreads them around your inner thighs that he generously bites before he's greedily come back to eat your pussy like it's his last meal (like it's not about to be two am). "You gotta be patient, babydoll."
But despite his declaration, a hand leaves your stomach. With your eyes closed, you feel a finger tracing your hold, prodding at it but never sinking in. "Steve!"
Finally, he sinks two inside, slowly as your walls evade his limbs the way you would to his cock. You moan louder than you should, and cover it up by biting your forearm as Steve pushes his fingers in until they're at his knuckles. He rubs your spongy spot, one that has you mewling tumultuously, providing him better music.
"That's it baby, good girl," he curls his fingers, the same way his tone curls into an applaud. It's tantalizingly slow, the pads of his fingers pressing against your walls before they've come to graze your sweet spot over and over again.
With his pink lips wrapped loosely still on your clit, his pace quickens and shoves a third one in, the stretch painfully gratifying until you hear the all too familiar squelching sound of your slick cunt against his versatile fingers. Steve fucks them in with a vigor that you think is impossible for him to have in a very early morning, libido probably driven by the smell of your arousal and your appraising moans.
"That's it, baby," you purr, tugging on his hair and pushing him harder against your cunt. "Fuck! Don't stop,"
And when you feel that coil tightening on your navel, you tell him so that you're close. Steve sucks the living shit out of your clit, fingers using all it's mobility as thrusts them vigorously in a way that you love it, pinky finger slapping on your pussy at every hard thrust.
Steve feels the warm cum evade his three fingers, coating them like paint and doesn't stop until he's milked all of you. He slows his fingers down, lets you ride your high until you push his head away and pull him back up to you.
With a face half covered by your slick and tendrils of cum coating the shadow of his midnight chin, he wipes it off and licks a finger clean, groaning at your delectable nectar. "Like honey on a spring, baby."
He doesn't kiss you first, instead shoves his two cum-coated fingers inside your mouth and presses it flat on your tongue, going deep until you gag around them. You clean your cum off his fingers, swallowing. Steve smiles and pulls them away, replaces it with his tongue that still tastes of you.
Lips still on yours, you tug on his briefs and pull his cock out — all swell and hard for you. You pump him, from base to tip, squeezing until there's a bead of cum seeping through his slit.
"Oh, baby," his head falls into the crook of your neck when you gradually jack him off, jaw slacking at your light squeezes and thumb grazing his head. "Oh, fuck yeah, keep going,"
You do, the other hand coming down to fondle with his balls, squeezing like what you'd do to his shaft, Steve's hips moving and fucking your hand. You tut. "Baby, how 'bout I give you something better? Something tighter?"
Barely a minute of jacking him off and his cock's already twitching. "Baby, you're gonna be the death of me, I swear."
You remove your hands from him, licking his slick off your palm and moaning at his bittersweet taste. Steve props himself up with one forearm, a hand coming down to guide his helmet on your entrance and wastes no time pushing in.
Concomitantly, you both moan at the feeling each other — his cock stretching you out in the best way possible, and your tight walls clenching on his hard cock. You arch your back, clothes tits pressing against his chest but your nipples sensitive and hard from the simple friction.
"N-ah! So, so tight," he kisses your throat, a hand coming up to wrap around it with his thumb and index squeezing the sides. Steve's hips begin moving, pushing out fully with his tip still inside until he sinks back in in a rough force that emits a wet slap from the impact of your sticky thighs. "So good for me, baby. Taking me so well like a good girl,"
Your hands come up to scratch on his back, feeling his muscles flex at every trust he makes. Your legs come up to wrap around his torso, the heels of your feet digging on his fast to urge him to go deeper into your pussy.
"Faster, Steve," you mewl. "Shit—...go harder."
He does, obeying you by fucking your puffy cunt faster, balls slamming on your ass and cock stretching you wide open when he removes he takes his hands and brings them to the back of your thighs, spreading them open to drive his dick deeper into your pussy.
Your moans become high-pitched and short like petulant whines, nipping and kissing Steve's neck as his fucking has gotten to a point where the headboard slams on the wall.
"I'm close," Steve pants, eyes closed tightly and jaw slacked open with a sheen coat of sweat dripping down his forehead and his baby hair. "Fuck, baby I'm gonna cum."
"Then cum," you clench around him, as tight as you could as you bring him closer to his orgasm. "I'm coming with you."
And when his hips stutter and a loud moan leaves his slackened mouth, face scrunched into what is a calamitous orgasm, you whimper and moan as you cum around his cock, his alabaster ropes filling you up to the brim and mixing your cum with his.
Steve drops down on top of you, hands massaging your sides as his ass raise and pulls his softening cock out of your full cunt. He knows he's gotten hard at the sight of his cum leaking off your gaping, clenching hole.
"Fuck, baby," he runs a hand through his hair. "That's so hot."
"Um, Steve?"
"Yeah."
"Do you want another go?"
How could he say no when his cock suddenly springs up when you finally exposed your tits to him?
5. watch a movie, 2:55 am
"So you're telling me his mom is trying to bang his son?"
Marty McFly's bright red vest blinds you and Steve's straining eyes. Your boyfriend shakes his head, hand absentmindedly rubbing your inner thigh to massage the ache away. "No. Well, she didn't know."
"She didn't know he was from the future?"
"Yeah."
"Oh," you nod your head. "And you watched this with Robin?"
"When we were high,"
"When you were high?" you sit up, hands on your lap and looking at Steve with wide eyes. His hand stops moving and looks at you perplexingly. "I thought you stopped getting high, Steve?"
"I mean, by accident—!"
"I swear if I find out you're still taking marijuana, I will waterboard you, Harrington."
"Boobies or water, I don't care being waterboarded."
"It's called motor boating for the tits, dumbass," you smack his arm. "You know what? This isn't working."
You reach for the remote and turn the TV off. Steve's smile falls and lets himself sink in disappointment with you, because even sex didn't tire you out. Your eyes adorn a twilight of hopeless glimmer, and all he can do is wrap his arms around your tired body.
Steve sighs. "I'm sorry, doll. Wish I could help you better."
You shake your head. "You did well, babe."
Then an idea comes into his head.
Steve sits forward and reaches for your notebook, hastily taking the pen off the table and scribbles his thought loudly like he's in an exam.
6. eat those sleeping gummies dance with steve!
His capitalized, brazen handwriting next to your looped and poised calligraphy, you read his addition. Your eyebrows furrow, looking up at your boyfriend who's stood up and offered his hand at you.
"Yeah?" his hand tilts. "Gonna dance with me or what?"
You set the notebook down. "Sure this would work?"
"If it's my idea, it totally will."
You stand up and smack his chest. "Cocky bitch."
With bodies entwined and hearts tethered into the dark morning of your shared home, Steve wraps his arms around your waist, yours coming up beneath his armpits and grabbing his shoulders as he gentles you into his soft humming.
And you rest your ear on his heartbeat, his harmonious humming synchs your heartbeat with his, his warmth and faint elation melting with yours.
"So I turn back in time," Steve sings into your hair, bodies dancing into a rhapsodic song. "I'm at the chateau and I feel alright,"
"Cool song." you say. "You made it?"
"For you," he pulls his head away and looks down at you. Steve leans in and presses a gentle kiss of exhaustion against your lips. "Yeah. I made it."
-
Maybe his idea did work. Because now you're by the sliding door to his backyard, gazing into the naked night sky with the moon high and bright, providing the gentle haze of slumber of those who remain in a dreamless sleep in this nightmarish town.
Your back on Steve's chest, legs on either side of you and yours flat on the carpet as you lay upwards on the couch, his strong arms wrapped around yours with hands entwined in a protective action. The ghost of his lips lingering on your forehead, and you slip in easily into slumber in the arms of your lover.
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reblogs and feedback are highly appreciated <3
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youthereader · 3 months
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Gator blackmails you.
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pairing: gator tillman (fargo) x teenage fem!reader
summary: 1.9k. to avoid arrest, you do something for gator.
rating: e; dubcon, mentions of underage drinking, reader is an 18 year-old high schooler, blowjob (m recieving), vaginal fingering, praise kink, toxic dynamics
a/n: there's just something about this guy! I hate him but I want him! this is my first ever joe keery character fic, so please be gentle.
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“Go fuck yourself!”
“I wouldn’t be talkin’ to me like that if I were ya.”
This town makes it easy to hate cops, especially because of Sheriff Tillman and his son. Luckily for you, or not so luckily, depending on how you look at it, you’re dealing with Gator tonight.
He has you backed into the side of his car, all alone, and it’s freezing cold. You can see your breaths in front of your faces, your body occasionally shivering. Your cute outfit just feels idiotic now, along with many other decisions that led you up to this point.
Gator’s eyes shift to the end of the street, which is completely deserted. You and your friends were there together up until a few minutes ago, when his cop car turned the corner and spotted you.
“Your friends ain’t gonna help ya,” he says. “They’re long gone.”
“And I meant it when I said it the first time – go fuck yourself!”
He smirks, lifting his vape to his lips and inhales. He exhales away from you, but you can still smell the mango scent as it drifts into the night. He smells like whatever body spray he showered himself in earlier, too. It’s not bad, exactly. Just invasive, lingering. Kind of like Gator himself.
You’ve known each other for years. He was in your older brother’s class in high school, in and out of your life forever, and this is the closest you’ve been to him in a long time. He always sort of scared you as a kid, but now it’s a different kind of fear. Less boogeyman, more realistic and sadistic.
Especially after he told you to suck his cock so he doesn’t arrest you for drinking underage.
“Somethin’ like this on your record when you’re applyin’ for college…”
He trails off, shaking his head. Your face warms and your guts twist. He can’t be serious, and yet you find it entirely possible he means it. His eyes dip to your lower half, your stupid short skirt and tights. You’re not even wearing snow boots, what the fuck were you thinking? You’re not even tipsy anymore by how sobering this is.
“Your brother would be shattered, too.”
“Don’t talk about my brother,” you snarl.
You take a step forward and he doesn’t flinch, eyes dipping to your lips. Your stomach flips at the sight of him taking you in like that.
“You a virgin?” he whispers.
You step back, face on fire, ignoring him. He makes a show of sighing, putting his vape away to take out his handcuffs.
“Okay, turn around.”
“Wait-”
“You can explain you and your delinquent buddies down at the station-”
You do think of college now. You care about getting out of this town, away from shitbirds like Gator Tillman. Without college, it’s that much harder to succeed. You think of the shame and humiliation your family would feel, because it would get around so fast, your drinking.
“Okay, okay! Okay!” you yelp, as he spins you around.
He presses up against you, hips to your ass and you gasp at the force of him.
“Okay, what?”
“Okay, I’ll do it,” you whisper. Your eyes shut and you gulp. “I’ll blow you.”
“Nope, changed my mind-”
You start to beg, but he still cuffs you, takes hold of your wrists to open the backseat and pushes you inside with ease. He’s deceptively strong. You land sidewards, and he slams the door shut as you struggle to sit up, slipping into the front seat.
“Asshole,” you hiss, hating him.
You start to wish your arrest would be for more, like assaulting an officer. He probably tried to blackmail you just to see if you’d say yes.
He takes off and you manage to sit up, huffing as you glare at the back of his head through the divider. You realize then that he’s not headed towards the station, but further out, further away from the center of town. You feel panic start to set in, your eyes meeting his in the rear-view mirror.
“Hey, what the fuck?”
“Y’know, I was on my way home when I picked ya up,” he calls over the engine.
He’s speeding and you feel each lurch of the car, every swerve.
“I wasn’t even lookin’ for some action tonight. But you always are. Fuckin’ whores.”
He can’t be talking to you. He must mean the collective ‘you’, of all the girls in town he sees. Has he done this before?
“You’re all whores.”
He seems on a roll, so you stay silent. He drives to the high school, to the football field at the back, the turf iced over and crunching underfoot. You know this because you walk across it most days, dreaming of somewhere far warmer. College was meant to take you away from the cold.
He parks the car. As it idles, he turns around in his seat.
“So have we got a deal?” he says, and you blink at him.
“Uh, yeah.”
He seems to have changed, he seems younger. You stare back at him and he frowns. It’s almost comical.
“What did ya think I was goin’ to do?”
“What kind of question is that -?”
He jumps out of the front and opens the back, crowding you, and he shuts it behind him, settling beside you. You glance down at your own arm pointedly, and he moves forward to uncuff you.
“I wasn’t gonna rape you or somethin’… your brother’s my buddy.”
“I hope he’s not,” you snap.
“Hey,” he says, and he tugs you toward him. “I still could arrest ya. Public intoxication? Underage drinkin’? Intent to sell?”
“Intent to sell what?” you retort. “I have nothing on me-”
“For now.”
You glare at him, rubbing your sore wrists, and he smirks again. His gaze dips again to your mouth.
“You’re kinda cute when you’re pissed off, did ya know that? You’re eighteen, right?”
“You are fucked up,” you say.
The silence between you is heavy, and he pulls in a breath, not disagreeing with you. You close your eyes for courage, breathing in his scent. Annoyingly, he smells really good, and the heat of his body makes it weirdly intimate.
“If I do this, then you’ll let me off the hook?”
Your eyes meet and he nods. “Sure, baby.”
You sigh, moving to unzip his fly and put a hand in his underwear. He’s hard already, and huge. Holy shit, you were not expecting that – and neither did you consider physically reacting to him like you do. Your stomach flips as your face burns with want. You want this.
“C’mon.”
You obey, ducking down to swallow him, trying not to cough, and Gator sucks in a breath on impact. His hand finds the back of your neck and squeezes, your thighs pressing together. His direction helps you with your initial nerves. Giving bad head would surely mean arrest.
You find yourself trying to not show too much enthusiasm, either. This tightrope means sucking his cock but suppressing your moans, because you’re not a virgin. You’ve done this many times before, but it hasn’t been like this. It hasn’t been risky, or so matter of fact.
He holds you like someone with experience does, and you like it a lot. You shift your hips a little, heat below your navel. He yanks you off him, drool on your mouth and chin, and kisses you.
His hot tongue pushes into your mouth and you grunt in surprise, not disgust, and he’s good. He’s really good at making you go in for more when he moves his lips away from you, staring at you with a glazed expression on his face.
“I knew it,” he whispers. “I knew you’d enjoy this.”
“Shut up,” you mumble.
“Hmm, I like it…”
His hand trails down your side, then under your skirt. You turn your head away from him, whimpering when his fingers curl into the waistband of your tights, pulling them down. You take his cock into your mouth again, re-doubling your efforts, and Gator groans for the first time, his hand more determined.
His fingers meet your underwear, rubbing over the clothed cut of you. You know you must be wet by now, and he doesn’t humiliate you for that. Instead, he pushes aside the material to reach your cunt, tucking two fingers inside with ease.
“Fuck,” you moan, because he’s not gentle.
You bob your head, tasting his pre-cum, sacrificing air to get him off. You’re fighting the building pleasure inside you, until he pinches your clit and you cry out, starting to tremble.
“That’s it. Good girl,” he whispers, and you cough, taking him as far as you can out of sheer desperation. “Good girl…”
You come, your orgasm ripped from you, and you can’t hide it by how you clench around him and shudder. You ride his hand to the very end, and his fingers stay inside you, that possessive edge to him still as he grips your neck a little tighter.
“C’mon…”
He starts to pant, your eyes streaming now as you commit to his end, and within a minute he follows you over the edge. His come hits the back of your throat and you go still, unsure of whether you’ll swallow. He doesn’t let go, and you decide then that you’ve gone this far already, you may as well…
“Good girl,” he gasps, and that does it.
You swallow, panting. Your ears are ringing and you feel dazed. At some point, the events of tonight will feel real. For now, you have to feel outside of yourself, watching Gator’s fingers move from under your skirt up to his mouth. He licks them clean and then tucks himself away, zipping his fly.
It is utterly bizarre, especially when he glances your way, searching you.
“I’ll drive ya home.”
“Yeah,” you murmur.
“Your friends are shitty, for runnin’ away like that,” he adds.
You nod. You wonder what you look like, sweaty and wrecked.
He moves back to the front seat, and you stare at him through the divider. When he finally looks at you again, you realise he must remember the way to your house from years ago. Something about that makes your chest ache. It’s been a weird night.
“Don’t do shit like that again, alright?” he says, and you nod again.
You don’t know if you’ll do as he says. He is right about your friends, though. Whatever apology they offer you when they see you on Monday will be bullshit and you know it. At least Gator isn’t bullshit.
He stops the car outside your house, and the lights are off. You snuck out hours ago, and your parents won’t know you ever left. But Gator will.
You think about seeing him again in town but don’t feel as miserable as you expect.
“I still think you should go fuck yourself,” you say, ducking under his arm when he lets you out of the car. You feel a little better already.
You glance back at him, and his eyebrows lift. He smirks.
“Okay, baby.”
His vape is back and he watches you walk to your front door. You smell his body spray still, you can taste his come. You’re still a little congested with it, your lips rubbed raw.
“Good girl,” he calls, as you unlock your front door, your back to him.
Your head whips toward him and he disappears into his car, the engine coming to life as you slip inside, heart pounding, the image of his glistening fingers still fresh in your mind.
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Thank you for reading! If you liked it, consider throwing me a like or reblog it. 🖤
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allthingsfangirl101 · 16 days
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Rough Patch – Joe Keery
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The honeymoon phase in a relationship is real. So is the reality check that always follows once you wake up. Joe and I got married a year ago. The months leading up to the wedding were incredible. I never thought I'd be happier.
When we got back from our honeymoon and things started to settle down, he went back to work and I focused on fixing up our apartment. When he went back to work, he was gone a lot more. It made the first year very difficult for us. He wasn't around and I would get overwhelmed having to take care of everything while he was gone.
I have tried to be a supportive wife, but it's getting harder and harder for me. It's gotten too hard to go months without seeing each other, barely talking on the phone. I couldn't help but get tired of the unanswered texts and missed phone calls. I am tired of celebrating things by myself.
The last time he left was a few months before our first anniversary. He swore up and down that he'd be back in time. Our anniversary is tomorrow so I called him tonight to figure out our plans. He is getting on a plane first thing tomorrow morning and will be home by lunch.
"Hey, you."
"Hey, baby. Happy Almost Anniversary!" I giggled excitedly. "I am so excited, I have the entire night planned from the minute you get home to the minute we fall asleep naked in each other's arms. I thought we could go to the restaurant we had our first date. You know, the one you also proposed to me at? What time is your flight supposed to be getting in? I could pick you up from the airport and we could get lunch and then. . ."
"Y/N," Joe cut me off.
"Yeah?"
"I'm not going to be back in time."
My stomach dropped at his words. "What are you. . . What do you mean you won't be back in town?"
"No," he sighed. "Sorry."
"But. . ."
"It's not like it's a big deal," he mumbled.
"It's our anniversary, Joe," I said, the tears I was pushing down turning to anger. "It is a big deal. It's the first anniversary of our wedding, Joe. You can't just not come home. What? Am I supposed to celebrate by myself? That's. . . That's pathetic."
"Calm down, Y/N," he sighed. "We can celebrate it when I get home."
"And when will that be?" I demanded. "We've been married a year and I don't think we've spent more than one week sleeping in the same bed. You're never home, Joe."
"I work," he said.
"I'm aware of that but. . ."
"And what am I supposed to do, Y/N?" He challenged. "Not work? Well, if I don't work then we will become homeless. I have to work, Y/N."
"I know you have to work, Joe. But I feel like you see your coworkers more than you see your wife."
"That's normal. It happens."
"It shouldn't," I corrected. "Normal people with normal jobs go home to their wives every night. I can't remember the last time you worked on a job here in town and came home every night to me."
"What are you saying?" He challenged again. "You want me to quit?"
"No," I said quickly. "You know I never want that. I just want to see you more, Joe. I'm sorry for missing my husband."
I hung up the phone, the tears I'd been fighting finally falling. I sat on our bed, tears streaming down my face as I watched my hands shake. I waited for my phone to ring but it never did. I fell asleep that night with dried tears on my face and no messages on my phone.
* * * * *
I woke up on our anniversary completely alone. I forced myself out of bed and barely got myself dressed. I wore a simple pair of leggings and a baggy T-shirt. I slowly cleaned the apartment, going in and out of crying fits.
Around noon, my phone started ringing. When I saw who was calling me, my throat tightened. I let the phone ring as I saw Joe's contact picture. I couldn't bring myself to answer it. When it finally stopped ringing, I slowly walked away from my phone.
The day continued like that. I slowly went through my normal checklist of daily things to do, ignoring my phone that kept ringing. Around 3 o'clock, a delivery man came to the door and delivered flowers. I read the card but it didn't change how I felt.
I'm really sorry about not being there today. Please take yourself out to dinner and really spoil yourself. I will spoil you as soon as I get home. I promise! I love you, Y/N.
With Regret, Your Loving Husband, Joe.
I tossed the card onto the counter and left the flowers there. I didn't have the energy to accept his apology. This is what he always did. He missed important things, sent flowers, and came home acting like nothing happened. First, it was his birthday. Then it was Thanksgiving. He barely made it home on Christmas Day. He missed Valentine's Day. And now he was missing our anniversary.
I ordered some dinner and ate it while watching one of my favorite movies. Even my comfort movie didn't cheer me up. I threw away the trash and laid down on the couch. 
I was starting to fall asleep when there was a knock at the door. I slowly paused the movie and went to answer it. When I opened the door, my heart jumped into my throat.
"You're here," I said slowly.
"Hey, baby," Joe smiled weakly.
"Why did you knock on your own apartment?" I asked. "Did you lose your key?"
"No," he chuckled. "I didn't. I was just trying. . ."
"I thought you weren't getting in until late Monday night."
"I wasn't supposed to," he stuttered. "But after our fight last night and you weren't answering your phone this morning, I needed to talk to you. We need to talk about this, Y/N."
"You're missing work." I turned on my heel and walked back into our apartment.
"Y/N," he sighed as he chased after me. "Wait, hang on, baby. Please. Can we talk about this?"
"What is there to talk about?" I demanded as I turned around. "Clearly, your job is more important than our marriage."
"That's not true!" He defended.
"Really?" I challenged. "Joe, yesterday you acted like it wasn't a big deal to miss our first wedding anniversary."
"And that was wrong," he tried to interrupt.
"Do you know how many phone calls you miss? How many of my texts go unanswered? Do you know how many nights I go to sleep, wondering where my husband is and what he's doing? Wondering when I will see him? This hasn't been easy on me, Joe."
"It hasn't been easy on me either," he said.
"You have work to distract you from being alone," I cut him off. "I have nothing. I sit at home all day with nothing to do other than think about and miss my husband."
"You could always get a job." His sentence dropped when he saw the look on my face.
"You really want to go down this road?" I challenged.
"No, but. . ."
"But nothing," I cut him off again. "Joe, I can't keep doing this."
"Wait," Joe said quickly. He grabbed my hands, pulling me closer to him. He lowered his voice and whispered, "This is just a rough patch, baby. We can. . . We can work through this."
"Can we?" I asked, my voice breaking. "Because, right now, I feel like I've been doing all the work. I mean, when was the last time you called me? Joey, I don't know. . ."
Joe cut me off by pulling me closer and crashing his lips onto mine. I knew he was doing this to cut me off so I couldn't end this, but I didn't care. I missed this. I missed being in his arms. I missed being kissed by him. I missed the feeling he gave me as our lips moved in sync. I missed him.
I had tears streaming down my face as I broke the kiss. I took a step back, pulled my hands out of his, and wrapped my arms around myself.
"Joe," I whispered. "I can't be the only one in this relationship anymore. I mean. . . I feel like you don't love me anymore."
"What?" Joe gasped. "Y/N, do you really think. . . How could you. . . Y/N, baby, of course, I still love you. I never stopped. You really think that I stopped loving you?"
"Can you blame me?" My voice broke as the tears continued to stream down my face. Joe stepped up right in front of me and gently grabbed my elbows.
"I am so sorry that I made you think I didn't love you," he whispered. "I love you with all my heart, Y/N. You are the most important person in my life. I never should've made you feel like my job was more important than the love of my life. Please give me another chance. I will prove to you that you are more important. I will make sure you never go a day without knowing just how much I love you. I will do anything to make it up to you."
"I just need you around more," I said, my sob getting stuck in my throat. "I just need my husband."
Joe pulled me into his chest and wrapped his arms around my waist. I wrapped my arms around him and cried into his neck.
"I'm so sorry, baby," he whispered as he started rocking us back and forth. He reached up and started playing with my hair. He leaned down and kissed the top of my head. I didn't say anything as he led us over to the couch and sat us down, neither one of us letting go of the other.
"I have an idea," he started, his voice still soft. "Tomorrow, we are going to wake up and make breakfast together. Then, after we get ready, I'm going to take you shopping and buy you whatever you want. We'll get lunch and go see that new movie you've been dying to see. We'll get dinner, come home, and spend the rest of the night in bed."
"Joe," I giggled when he changed his voice at the end. I playfully pushed him, but he instantly pulled me back into his arms.
"I love you, Y/N," he whispered as he relaxed us into the couch. "And I am so sorry. It will never happen again. I promise, baby."
"I love you too, Joe."
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honey-flustered · 1 year
Text
Too Quiet (Fluff)
YoungDad!Steve Harrington x YoungMom!Reader
Summary: You and Steve finally get a moment of peace until you’re reminded that you’re parents of two rambunctious toddlers and a puppy. Sometimes, quiet’s never a good sign.
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A/N: This fluffy thought came to me because I have a toddler niece and whenever she gets quiet we know she’s never up to any good. This also goes out to the parents who just need a little break from time to time. (Note: this has also been in my drafts for so long)
Word: 1.6k+
You appreciated the mundane. Boring can be good sometimes. Like for instance, neither you or Steve had any work that needed to be done. No errands, no chores, no 8-12-16 hour shifts. It was just a simple day where the two of you got to relax.
You found yourselves so comfortable, in fact, you hadn’t recognized that you were laid on the couch with your back against his chest, scrolling on your phone until he randomly cleared his throat.
You jolt up, looking back at him. “Whoa! When’d you get here?”
He looks up from his book, reading glasses slipping to the bridge of his nose. “I sacrifice my need to get up and pee for like 2 hours just to be your body pillow. My legs are asleep.”
You roll yourself around, facing him and wrapping your arms around his neck, “I’m sorry I’ve ignored you. It’s just so nice having these moments of downtime.”
He kisses your nose. “I understand, love. I’m really glad we don’t always have to talk to enjoy each other’s company. I like the comfortable silence.”
“Me too,” You grin. “Sometimes, I don’t always want to talk. Sometimes, I just want to scroll through my phone or eat a whole pot of mac ‘n’ cheese all by myself without the necessary judgment.”
“Weird way of bringing that up…but I get it.” Steve chuckles. “And you know what—since we’re throwing things out there—I’m so over people believing that being ‘boring’ is synonymous to being ‘old’. I mean, if I prefer staying home over going to parties it doesn’t mean I’m not still King Steve.”
“Exactly! Boring is the new fun! Like vanilla sex…it isn’t so bad.”
“It’s fantastic! We don’t always need the theatrics. It’s just so extra to have freaky sex all the time. Um, waiter, I’d like vanilla sex with a side of missionary please.”
You snort at his dorkiness. “I have to admit that I don’t always care to drink when we go out. I don’t always want to be a tipsy ditz all the time. Sometimes when I’m out with my friends, they make me feel bad about ordering just wine so I just lie and say that I’m drinking vodka when it’s only water in my glass. I’m just really good at pretending I’m drunk.”
“You’re goddamn Meryl Streep and Viola Davis combined when you act drunk, baby. I could use some pointers. I don’t always want to drink either but the boys…” Steve groans. “It’s always ‘Steve, chug down this beer’ and never ‘Steve, would you like some chamomile tea.’ I don’t drink tea but I just might start if someone offers me.”
“I’d offer you since you’re taking interest. Would you like me to make you some now?”
“Maybe later,” Steve curls his arms around you tight. “I like talking about being boring with you.”
“Yeah, I could be boring with you all the time. Like if I decided to crochet some shit for the hell of it, you wouldn’t judge.”
“Course I wouldn’t. I think you’d be the best crocheter ever and that’s saying a lot because there are a lot of great ones out there. I know this because I watched a youtube tutorial of crochet making…in full. I don’t plan to make a not one piece but I watched it anyway because I had time,” Steve shrugs. “And sometimes, even when I have plenty of time, I don’t always feel like styling my hair.”
You gasp, putting a hand to your chest. “Not the hair!”
“I can be too cool for cool.” He smiles smugly.
“I wanna wear a oversized clothes.” You rush out.
“You deserve it! I’ve seen the kind of clothes you’ve had to wear. Super tight. Not that it’s a bad thing, of course. I don’t always wanna dress in the latest fashion either.”
“I hate going to the beach nowadays. I get sand in all of my crevices and I end up finding sand around the house even weeks after.”
“I hate driving too fast.”
“I like gardening.”
“I like socks with sandals.”
“I’ve been leaning into buying those portraits with the words on them that say things like “home is where the heart is” or some corny thing like that”
“Eww, you mean the ‘live, laugh, love’ crap,” He laughs. “I’m sorry but we’re not that old.”
“Oh, please, I’m sure you’ve got worse.”
Steve thinks for a moment. “I guess I’ve always wanted to ask an employee if they’re working hard or hardly working.”
“Oh, nooo!” You cringe. “That’s horrible. Do you want them to hate you?”
“Alright, so I’m that kind of old, too.” He admits defeat.
“I think mom jeans aren’t as bad as everyone makes them to be.”
“I think dad jokes are the epitome of comedy and I’ve brushed up on some.”
“Ooo, tell me one!” You beam excitedly.
“Okay. What do you call a nose with no body?”
“What?”
“Nobody knows."
You both join in laughter which soon dies down when the gears in each of your heads began to turn. The two of you stare in space, speechless and reflective of the conversation.
“Although, it is a bit quiet,” You say, breaking the silence. “Don’t you think?”
“Yeah, too quiet.”
“Not boring, though.”
“No, not boring. It’s a good boring if it is. But it’s like…something’s missing. Like we’re forgetting something important.”
“Or someone important?”
“Some…ones…” Steve says in a reflective tone, then his eyes bug out and so do yours as you come to the same realization.
The two of you exchanged looks and simultaneously yell. “Our babies?!”
The two of you jump up from the couch and heading in any direction the two believed the boys were in. You checked the pantry, he checked in the bottom cabinets. He checked the in the boys closet, you checked underneath the bed.
“How could have forgotten about them for two hours?!” Steve exclaims. “We’re terrible people! They’re literally all the reasons why we’re so old and boring now so how can we have forgotten?!”
“They’ve handled themselves just fine alone, babe.” You say trying to comfort him.
“You and I both know that when it gets quiet it’s never a good sign. They’re like Max from Max and Ruby and you know how sociopathic that bunny could be. Little Baby Blue hasn’t barked in 2 hours either. What could they have possibly done to him?” Steve says while running his hands through his hair.
The sounds of giggling from the master bedroom is enough to shake you and Steve to your core. The boys were for sure in there and possibly doing something that will cost you a lot of money to repair.
“For all we know they’ve just created armagedon in there,” You say, darting your eyes between the bedroom door and Steve. “Whatever happens, whatever we see…we must prepare ourselves. Some things may be damaged beyond repair and most likely there will be a lot of cleaning up to do…but we mustn’t take out our anger on the children. They’re children who are simply practicing their exploration and discovery skills.”
“Easy for you to say. You weren’t the one who found your game console submerged in a toilet bowl,” He clutches his chest. “You don’t know my pain.”
You groan, hearing more laughter from the boys. “What do think it is this time? Paint on the walls? The forbidden mudpie cake? Fisher Price Guillotine?”
“I don’t know. That’s the terrifying part. They always come up with the darnedest things,” Steve holds out his hand. “Hold it please, I’m not ready for this horror show.”
You swallow hard, taking his hand. Opening the masters bedroom, you see the twins with their thumbs in their mouths watching Saturday cartoons on the large bed. Little Baby Blue is wedged between the boys, relaxing as they both pet him with their free hands. Their eyes immediately dart to the two of you standing in the doorway like you’d just interrupted a nice moment.
“Mommy.” Oslo smiles and runs up to you.
“Daddy!” Bear runs into Steve’s arms.
“My boys,” You say in relief. “Mommy and Daddy are so sorry for not checking on you. We were very, very tired.”
“Das kay, mommy,” Oslo says, snuggling into your tummy. “Blue’s here with us.”
“Blue even gave us some things to eat.” Bear points to one side of the bed which was full of snacks from the pantry.
“I was wonderful where the Oreos went.” Steve says.
You pet Blue. “That’s a good boy! Maybe next time go for the healthier options in the fridge.” The dog huff and you raise your hands in surrender. “Alright, alright. I’ll cut you some slack. I know how hard it is watching two toddlers.”
“I’m going to whip us up some lunch and then we’ll go to the park for family fun day. How’s that sound, boys?” Steve says.
The boys jump up and down excitedly with Steve hyping up their mood. “Ok, but you have to go and get ready real quick. Think you two can do that like the big boys you are?”
“Yes!” They shout at once.
“Go on then after come down for the famous Harrington men’s sandwich.”
The boys run out of the room, Blur chasing after them.
You lean in to whisper to your husband, still in shock. “Everything’s neat. The boys were actually angels the entire day. Thanks to babysitter Blue.”
“I guess those two were having a relaxed day, too.” Steve quips.
Oslo enters the room, tugging your sweater. “Mommy, can you help me find my favorite sho”
“You mean the light up ones?”
Oslo nods and you take his hand, “Come on, we’ll look together.”
“Then, I’ll help Bear get dressed. We’re going to beat you guys!” Steve teases.
You all laugh enjoying the friendly competition. Although, you enjoyed the times where things get quiet. You couldn’t trade the moments of chaos and fun with your family for the world.
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ash5monster01 · 4 months
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Favorite Song
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Pairing: Steve Harrington x FemReader
Warnings: angst, mentions of trauma, established relationship, language, loss, S4 spoilers.
Summary: Usually when people break up they don’t have to see each other again but that’s not the case for you and Steve Harrington since the evil that lurked in Hawkins will always tie you together.
word count: 1k
a/n: a short one for my Steve girlies, this idea was too cute not to write. hope you all love it <3
Masterlist
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Before you knew about the dangers that lied below your town you always found it weird that Steve and Nancy had still talked. You tried to not let it bother you and it didn’t make sense until you and Steve decided to spend the summer working together in the mall. You quickly learned exactly why they still had to talk. Not many people in this town shared the nightmares that came with the knowledge of evil here in Hawkins. Needless to say you never bothered him about it again.
Funny thing was you never expected it to happen to you. You and Steve had broken up, and you had tried desperately to stop it. Thing was, he couldn’t shake the trauma of everything that happened to him and as a result it was hurting you. Yet now, as the dangers return to your little town, you’re finding yourself in exactly Nancy’s position. Side by side with your ex, trying desperately to fight instead of focusing on the other. You hadn’t really had the chance to talk, too busy making sure Max was safe from Vecna who was actively trying to kill her.
With that knowledge you’re unable to sleep, eyes scanning over each of the kids deep in slumber, scattered across the basement floor. Apparently you are not alone in this either. You can sense Steve is awake across the room. After his scare with Max you figure he won’t sleep again until Vecna is defeated. Until then he’ll be on guard, eyes never leaving any of these kids. They meant everything to him and you knew that.
“What’s your favorite song?” the question surprises you in the silence of the basement. Especially coming from Steve’s raspy voice, the one he always had after not talking for a while.
“Hmm?” you furrow your brows, eyes falling on his form.
“Your song? Just in case” you can hear the fear in his voice. You know this is bothering him. He had probably been spending all day trying to remember each of your favorite songs so you wouldn’t end up hurt like the others. It’s your silence that keeps him rambling.
“I mean now we know Max’s and I know Dustin’s already, anything Madonna will work for Nancy, Lucas told me his already. I just want to know yours, it’ll make me feel better to know yours” your heart aches for him from across the room. You miss him and now as you sit here, trying to get rest before inevitable danger, you want him to see you again even more. Standing from your spot you carefully maneuver yourself around the room to sit beside him. Steve welcomes it as your leg brushes against his own.
“Longest Time, Billy Joel” you tell him softly, trying not to look him in the eyes because he knows that song. It was your song after all. Just like you hadn’t been able to let him go you hadn’t been able to let the song go.
“Really?” his voice is hopeful and you almost feel guilty for bringing it up. You had never wanted to leave Steve but he wasn’t ready to give you his all yet. The exact danger you’re in now proving that. All of this didn’t mean you don’t miss him. You missed him every single day.
“Yeah” you look up to him and he can see it in your eyes. That look of love and the warmth radiating from you stirs something inside of him. He had already lost you but sitting here next to him now it didn’t quite feel like it.
“It’s my favorite too, just in case” he whispers to you and you smile, a soft chuckle falling from your lips.
“Okay Stevie, just in case” you repeat back to him as you grab his hand. His heart rate picks up as you lace his fingers through your own and hold the intertwined hands on your lap.
“I didn’t think it was your favorite anymore” he says and you sigh, your heart aching with love and fear. You know it’s not the song he’s asking about, he’s asking about him.
“You’ll always be my favorite Steve, you just couldn’t love me the way you wanted to” this response tears his heart in two and it isn’t until he is frantically shaking his head you look at him.
“You’re wrong, I love you more than anything else on this earth. I was dealing with my grief but the best way for me to do that was with you” this sentence now breaks your own heart because you had left him when he needed you most. The way his eyes search your own you realize there’s no one else out there for you. It’s always been Steve and you never should’ve left him in the first place.
“I’m sorry” and then you’re kissing him. Kissing him like your whole life depends on it and in a way it does. You two could die tomorrow fighting the monsters of Hawkins but at least you’ll have each other. It’s the way it should be and you know this to be true when he removes his hand from your own to wrap his arms around your waist and pull you into his lap. He was only asking for your favorite song but now he had that and more.
“Please don’t leave me ever again” he breaths hotly against your mouth and you nod, trying to kiss him until your lungs can’t take it anymore. You had so much time to make up for. You hadn’t realized how much you missed him and his touch until now.
“I promise” you tell him and he can only smile against your lips, kissing you as quietly and passionately as he can because he finally had you back. You’d never leave each other again. Vecna or not.
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justmeinadaze · 3 months
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I Miss the Misery Part 2 (Steve X You)
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Part One Here
Warnings: Toxic Daddy Stevie (but he wants to be better)/ Slightly Toxic Fem sub reader, SMUT, dirty talk, rough play, daddy kink (cause im me), choking, spanking, degrading, Slight Fluff, she loves him and he loves her but they both struggle with their feelings, ANGST, Jealous Steve AND Reader, Steve gets drunk after a bad experience with his father (he talks about it; elaborated), They both try to verbally hurt each so they say mean things to each other ( they call each other names, bring up past behavior, etc.) , cliff hanger ending!
Word Count: 7058
It had been a couple of weeks since your incident with your ex Steve Harrington. When you came home that night your boyfriend was still up waiting for you. You talked things through like any normal couple would and that night you both went to bed happy. Well, he did. You laid there for hours replaying the nights events in your head. 
You could still feel Steve’s hands on your hips where he clung to you as he thrust his big, thick cock into you roughly till your eyes rolled back. You could still hear his grunts and pants warming your ear as his sweaty body fell on top of yours. 
But more than anything, you kept going back to the conversation after. 
“Yeah, well, if we’re toxic then I’d rather go down with you than anyone else.”
“I just kept wishing they were you.”
“I feel like we can make this work.”
You had always believed the two of you could make your relationship work but the problem always was that he could never commit to it. He had you for two years in high school and he, quite literally, let you slip away. It wasn’t fair to you for him to think he could just show up one day and you’d drop everything to be with him especially when you knew it would end badly. 
A strong hand reached out from the darkness of an open door and yanked you into the room before slamming it shut. 
“What’s this I’m hearing about you going on a date with Ben Lomax?”, Steve asked sternly as he glared down at you. 
“Well, hello to you to, Harrington. I hope you had a good weekend.”
“Don’t play with me, Y/N.”
“What do you care? We’re not dating right? I can go out with whoever I want to.”
Butterflies flutter in your stomach as you watch his jealously rise. You liked amping him up like this so he’d take what’s his. 
“You’re mine, little girl.”
“Then claim me, Daddy. Make me yours.”
It felt so good having him take control the way he did even though you knew it wasn’t healthy. No… you couldn’t allow him to win this time. This time you needed to do what was right for you and Jacob. Rolling over onto your side, you wrapped your arms around his torso and pressed your face into his back, clinging to normality tightly as you finally drifted off to sleep. 
***
“Hey, baby.”, your boyfriend grinned as you sat beside him at his desk and he handed you some items in a grocery bag. “Thank you for coming by. You know how my mom is. I’d give her back these things myself but this project…”
“I know, honey. You’ve been working really hard.”, you reply encouragingly as you softly smile. 
The smell of his cologne hit you before the sound of his voice. Glancing down the hallway, you watched as Steve argued with someone over the phone as he sauntered confidently towards you both. Your body and attitude prepared for the battle that was sure to come but to your surprise he walked right past you as if you weren’t there. After angrily hanging up his phone, his face changed to a much softer demeanor as he grinned, opening his arms wide as a blond young lady eagerly jumped into them. 
“That’s Mr. Harrington’s new girlfriend I hear.”, Jacob whispers. “She’s a lot younger than him but I guess that’s expected when you have all the money in the world.”
You hadn’t heard a word he said, the fury bubbling in your stomach up to your chest. 
“I can play this game better.”
Fucking asshole. He wants to pretend I’m not here and try to make me jealous, go ahead! I’m not the same girl I was in high school. This won’t work. 
“Baby? Are you ok?”
“Hm? Yeah, sweetheart. I’m fine, just tired.”
“I understand. Hey, tonight we’re meeting at the bar downtown. It’s just going to be the team here. Would you want to go?”
Shifting you gaze their way again, you watched as Steve beamed down at the girl before tenderly kissing her lips. 
“Yeah, I think that sounds fun.”
########
“So Y/N, how is the new book coming along?”, Jacob’s coworker asked as you took a sip from the alcohol in your glass. 
“Good, thank you. I’m having some writers block but it’s not a big deal. Not as big a deal as what you guys have been working on.”
“Yeah, thankfully we’re almost near the end.”, another girl at the table sighs. “Mr. Harrington has really helped us out. He’s been buying us lunch for the office every day.”
“And letting us leave early on Fridays so we can have a bit of a break. He stays in the office to make up the time.”
You couldn’t help but smile at their praise. Steve had always been a complete asshole but even during your relationship with him you saw the compassion and kindness that hid under the snark.
“Y/N? Honey, are you alright?”, he cooed as he sat on the bench beside you. His long fingers tenderly reached out to dry the tears that were still falling down your cheeks. 
“I’m fine, Steve. You don’t have to…”, you tried to dismiss him as you waved your hand. 
“I know I don’t have to. You know me. You know I don’t do anything I don’t want to.” Steve firmly grabbed your wrists and turned your body to face him a bit more. “Now, what’s going on, babe?”
“My, uh, my grandfather died.”
At your revelation, you began to cry harder and he collected you in his arms, pressing your head to his chest. 
“Shit, Y/N. I’m so sorry. I know you two were really close. Everything’s ok, pretty girl. I’m right here.”
“Speak of the devil…Mr. Harrington! Hey! Why don’t you come sit with us?!”, one of Jacob’s friends shouted bringing you back to reality. 
Steve Harrington was the devil indeed with how delicious he looked dressed in his jeans and black button up shirt. His signature smile blinded the table as he grabbed his dates arm and headed towards you. 
“Hey guys. You don’t have to invite me. I’m sure you’re tired of dealing me for 40+ hours a week already.”
“Oh, come on. Join us. It’s no problem at all.”
The sound of your glass slamming into the table startled everyone including Steve as he finally gave you his attention. 
“Yeah, Steven. Not a problem at all. Take a seat.”
His head ticked to the side in amusement before taking a seat and pulling his date onto his lap making you cringe in annoyance. 
“Y/N apparently went to school with Mr. Harrington here.”, Jacob explained to his coworkers who were still fairly wide eyed at the way you addressed him. 
“That’s pretty cool. You two were friends?”
“Nope. Hardly even knew each other. Right, Harrington?”, you sassed. 
Turning away from you, he focused on the original question. 
“I wouldn’t say friends. We definitely knew of each other. Everyone in Hawkins did with it being a small town and all.”
Throughout the rest of the night, you constantly fumed in his direction every time he opened his mouth. His hands constantly roamed his date’s skin driving you insane every time she would lean back and nuzzle her face into his neck. In retaliation you tried to do the same with Jacob but you knew that was a lost cause because he wasn’t very keen on the PDA. 
You drank more and more until the world around you got hazy.
“How long have you two been together?”, someone asked as they gestured towards him and his date. 
“Um, about two weeks I believe.”
“Hm. About how long she’s been in the world.”, you hiccupped as you knocked back a shot on the table. “I mean…look at you, Barbie. You’re basically a fetus.”
“Y/N.”, Jacob whispered. “That was rude.”
“No, no Jacob. It’s ok. I see she hasn’t changed much. Y/N here had kind of a reputation for being bratty at school.”
“And Steve Harrington had a reputation for being a man slut.”
“Alright, I think we’re going to go home. Come on, babe.”, you boyfriend said sternly, gripping your arm. 
“How about you guys come to my house? It’s a lot closer and you can get her to bed so she can sober up.”, Steve replied casually. 
“Oh, Mr. Harrington, we couldn’t impose.”
“I insist. Come on, honey.”, he grins as he slaps the girl’s ass playfully. “It was nice spending time with you guys. Jacob, just follow me.”
***
It took you awhile to catch your bearings when your groggy eyes opened and you realized you weren’t at home. 
“Jacob?”
Glancing beside you, you noticed his peacefully sleeping frame beside you so you left him be as you got up to find a bathroom. Wherever you were it was a very nice place with the updated furnishings and new home smell. 
It took you a moment to find a bathroom but after you did, you shut the door and ran the cool water over you face. 
What happened last night? I remember Steve showing up at the bar…a dizzying car ride…lips on mine…angry eyes. Maybe Jacob was upset for how I behaved. I need to make it up to him. He doesn’t deserve me acting like a drunk fool in front of his friends. 
Sighing, you opened the door to head back to bed but was met with a strong hand around your throat pushing you backwards into the bathroom and closing the door. 
“Are we sober now, little girl? Good because I really want this to sink in.”, Steve growled as his face hovered above yours. “If you ever disrespect me like that again I’ll throw you over my knee and spank you till you can’t handle it. I don’t care where we are or if your fucking boyfriend is in the room. Do I make myself clear?”
“What…what…I don’t remember…”
“You don’t…don’t…remember?”, he mocked. “Well, let me refresh your memory. I told your idiot boyfriend to bring you back to my house so you could rest because you were insulting my girlfriend and embarrassing yourself in front of his coworkers. When we got here, I showed him my spare rooms and left you guys alone. While I was getting ready for bed myself, the door was open and you were on your fucking knees IN MY HOUSE sucking another man’s dick AND CALLING HIM DADDY!”, Steve scolded roughly in your ear through clenched teeth.
Finally gathering your faculties, you pushed at his chest causing him to release you but only long enough to invade your space again as his face hovered just above your own. 
“I’M your Daddy.”
“Not anymore.”
“Oh? Did you also forget that you showed up at my office two weeks ago begging for my cock and calling me Daddy? Or was that some other pathetic little girl?”
“I wouldn’t be surprised with how many women you’ve fucked in your lifetime.”
“Said the whore. Let’s not forget how many guys you were with in Hawkins.”
“I wasn’t with anyone! I went on dates but the only person I ever fucked was you!”
“Yeah right. Do you expect me to believe that? Hell, you cheated on your boyfriend with me!”
“Like it matters if you believe me or not. Technically I was single in school. You couldn’t bother to be seen with me because I was fucking poor. Jesus. You say I’m pathetic but the truth is you are; a pathetic little daddy’s boy. Couldn’t even start or find a company of your own. You had to play sloppy seconds to his business!”
Steve’s palm covered your mouth roughly as he pushed you forcefully against the wall. His breathing became erratic as he heavily panted trying to control his temper. His eyes stared daggers into yours for what felt like forever till something in the air snapped and he replaced his hand with his lips. 
It was a rough kiss fueled by anger and you felt your pussy flutter at the notion. Riled up Steve was always one of your favorite versions of him because he claimed what was his in the best way possible. This is what you wanted. You wanted him to realize that he hated the idea of you not being his and fought to have you by his side. The problem was he did claim you but never truly made you his. 
Your arms pushed at his chest but his grip tightened as he held your wrists to your sides. Moving them to one hand, he utilized his now free palm to smack you before grabbing your cheeks with his fingers. 
“Do you want to stop? Say the word and we’ll stop.”, he growled. “Answer me.”
“No.”
“No what?”
“No, I don’t want you to stop.”
“I didn’t think so.”
Aggressively, he turned you around and pushed your body against the sink as he moved aside your panties while freeing his cock from his boxers. After spitting into his hand and stroking it along his shaft, you both groaned as he guided himself into you promptly setting a rough pace. 
“Baby?”
Your eyes widen at the sound of your boyfriend’s voice on the other side of the bathroom door and you see Steve smirk from his reflection in the mirror. 
“Y-Yeah?”
“Are you ok? I woke up and you weren’t there.”
The man inside you slowed his rhythm, dragging his length pleasantly along your tight walls before slamming himself back into your pussy making your eyes roll as your nails dug into the arm he had around your stomach.
“I-I’m okay, Jacob. Ahhh… I’ll be right there, sweetheart.”
“Yeah, you will, baby girl. You’ll—mmm—crawl back in beside him full of my cum like the fucking whore you are.”, Steve whispers, his lips attaching to your neck as your head falls against his shoulder. 
“Okay. Are you sure you’re all right?”
Picking up his pace again, his cock overwhelmed your senses as you tried to control yourself from screaming his name. 
“YES! I’m fine. I’ll be right there!”
“Alright, honey. I love you.”
Steve’s eyes met yours in the mirror, softening slightly when he saw pain flash through them. 
“I love you to.”
He knew you weren’t saying it to your boyfriend but to him, however, Jacob thinking your love was meant for him infuriated Steve as he spanked your ass hard before wrapping both arms around you to hold you still as he slammed his lower half into your own. 
“Who’s your Daddy, little girl?”
“You are, Steve, please.”
“Say it again so I know you fucking understand.”
“You are, Daddy. Please. Let me cum. I’ll—fuck—I’ll be a good girl. I promise.”
“No you won’t but that’s ok. I don’t mind putting you in your place.”
As his fingers find their way to your clit, you bite your bottom lip to stifle the loud moan that wants to break free. Placing your arms and hands over his own, you cling to him as your body trembles and you cum hard around him. His rhythm falters and you hear him grunt in your ear before you feel his release spill inside of you. 
Steve pants as his softening cock pulls out of your aching hole and tucks himself back into his boxers as he takes a seat on the edge of the tub. Maybe it was the headspace you were still in or just seeing him look so upset hit that soft spot in your heart but you couldn’t help it when you lowered yourself to your knees and crawled to his side, placing your head on his thigh as you hugged his legs. 
“I’m sorry I called him Daddy.”
His large palm reached out to pet your head making you sigh as you closed your eyes. 
“No, you’re not. Yeah you were drunk but your subconscious definitely wanted to hurt me and that would be the way to do it. It’s not like I didn’t do the same thing by bringing a young, beautiful girl around. I knew she’d piss you off.”
“Why do we have to be this way to each other, Steve?”
“I think the real question, sweetheart, is why do we like it?”
“Why do I like it so much with you?”, you whisper. As your tears begin to fall, he leans down to collect you in his arms and places you on his lap. “I tried, whatever the fuck this is, with other men and every time I got hurt. They were you times 10. Then I met Jacob and—”
“He’s the exact opposite.” 
“And not in a good way.”, you sigh as you caress his face with your palm. “Steve, I didn’t have sex with anyone else when we were in school. The first time I was every with someone who wasn’t you was after I left. I hated it… he was too rough and almost every conversation we had was a fight.” Turning his face towards you, you tenderly kiss his forehead. “I swear, I never called any of them Daddy. They would beg me to but it always felt wrong. Only you ever knew how to take care of me like that. I just wish you could have taken care of me in every other way.”
After softly kissing his lips, you crawled off his lap and headed back to bed to curl up in your boyfriend’s arms that you wished were Steve’s.
##################
Another week went by in uneventful domestic bliss as you continued to be the best girlfriend you could. Today Jacob and his coworkers were celebrating finishing the project they had been working on with a camping trip up north. He had invited you to come along but after what happened you thought it best to stay put. You also weren’t really a fan of sleeping outdoors without AC but you kept that little tidbit to yourself. 
You utilized the alone time to work on your novel and get things done around the house but after a couple of hours, you found yourself extremely bored. Throwing on your jacket and grabbing your keys, you headed to a bar down the way ordering the strongest drink you could think of. 
Once again, the smell caught your attention first before the snarky laugh that followed. 
“Of course. Of course. Of fucking course, YOU of all people would be here.”, Steve giggled drunkenly as he knocked back his beverage and signaled the bartender for a refill. 
He looked completely disheveled, his hair a mess due to his fingers running frustratingly through it. The suit jacket he had worn was hanging on the back of the chair while his white button up shirt was untucked and the sleeves were rolled up to his elbows. 
“Steve? What happened?”
“Like you care.”
You should have walked away; left him there to wallow by himself but this nagging in your stomach wouldn’t allow you to as your worry for him took control. 
“I do care. Come on, Steve, talk to me.”
Spinning in his seat, he leaned his side obnoxiously over the bar as his glassy eyes met yours. 
“What happened. Hm…Y/N wants to know what the fuck happened. Well, we finished our project at work today. Managed to sign a huge fucking client worth millions! But does that impress my father? Oh, no. Fucker has to fly up here just to berate me and scold me on what we need to do next. This isn’t my first day on the job. I’ve watched that asshole work my entire life and he can’t even let go for one God damn second to see I did something good!”
“You’re right. I remember he was always hard on you. I saw him scream at you once after a game even though the team won and you made the most points. He said you didn’t try hard enough.” He nods at the memory, chugging the content of the glass and again asking for more. You discreetly signaled to the bartender that this was the last one as you focus your attention back on the broken man in front of you. “I hope you know he’s wrong. I know how hard you worked on this.”
“Yup. I know, Y/N. I’m not a fucking idiot. Why are you even here? I’m toxic remember?”
“You are but that doesn’t mean I want anything bad to happen to you. Let me take you home.”
“Fuck you. I can fucking take myself home.”, he growls, finishing the last of his beverage. 
“Ok. Can you at least text me and let me know you got home safely?”
After rubbing his shoulder comfortingly, you put on your jacket and pay for your drink but as you turn to leave, a warm palm abruptly grabs your wrist. 
“Y/N, um… C-Can you come home with me? I promise I won’t make a move or anything. I just… don’t want to be alone.”
***
“Oh shit!”, he laughs as he falls through the door after turning the key. 
“Where’s your girlfriend tonight?”, you ask as you guide him towards his bedroom, holding his waist as he stumbles from side to side. 
“Girlfriend? Oh, you mean Barbie?”
“That’s not really her name is it?”
Steve snorts as he chuckles, throwing himself onto the mattress and throwing his arm over his eyes. 
“No…it’s, um, Tiffany. No, Erica…Fuck, I don’t know. I haven’t seen her since you and your idiot spent the night.”
After you flashed him a sassy smirk he didn’t see, you began getting him ready for bed starting with his shoes. You thought he had finally passed out but when you grabbed his arm to take off his watch and class ring from college, his eyes opened, and he tilted his head to watch you. 
“Where can I put these?”, you murmur with a soft smile.
Silently, he gestures towards the bedside table and you reach for the drawer to delicately place them inside. Something catches your eye, however, as you pull out a well, worn picture of the two of you in high school. Steve rarely ever took photos with you back then. Nothing the two of you ever did was ever genuinely photo worthy since you two were sneaking around most of the time. When this image was taken, you were supposed to take pictures for a class project and brought the camera with you to his house after your photoshoot with your group.
“Why do you have a camera? I thought you wanted to be a writer.”, he asks after noticing it in your bag and taking it out.
“Oh, so you ARE listening to me when I talk?”
“A ha ha. You’re so funny, Y/N.”
“It’s for a class project we’re working on.”, you giggle.
“Is the project sexy basketball captains?”, Steve joked as he held the device high in the air away from your reach. “Handsome Men at Hawkins High? Oh! Or Gods in Bed?”
“No. It’s a project about Hawkins jerks who steal stuff and are TERRIBLE in bed.”
You playfully tackle him onto the mattress and lightly wrestle with him till he has both arms around you with your face against his chest. Gently tugging your hair, his lips land on your forehead before traveling down to your own for a tender kiss. 
Holding his arm high above you both, he presses his cheek to your own as you both smile and the flash blinds your eyes. 
“Where did you get this?”, you whisper as he bends towards you and squints his eyes at the image. 
“Ummmm… stole it from your room…snuck in.”, Steve sighs as he rolls onto his back and closes his eyes. “You were…gone…vanish from…Hawkins.”
Swallowing the lump in your throat, you turn off his bed side lamp but as you begin to stand, his slurred voice fills your ears. 
“Please don’t go…”
Grabbing a throw blanket, you toss it over you both as you curl up into his side and rest your palm on his chest, letting the comforting rhythm of his breathing lull you to sleep.
############
The feeling of lips on your shoulder causes your eyes to flutter open.
You had rolled over in the night and were currently facing Steve’s bland, gray bedroom wall as soft hands roamed your skin. Pretending to still be asleep, you melted into his touch as you pushed your back into his chest. Fingers gently caressed your stomach and up your shirt as his mouth continued to travel towards your neck. 
Quickly moving some of your hair away from your face, Steve kissed your cheek as his palm massaged your breasts briefly before gliding back down to your stomach. You could feel his eyes watching you as you subtly moaned, the bulge in his slacks pressing against your clothed ass. 
You allowed your lower half to grind against him as his groan grumbled low in your ear. Moving one of his arms above your head, you reached up to intertwine your fingers with his as his other hand slipped through the waistband of your pants and under your panties. 
“Daddy.”, you panted as he guided his middle and ring fingers inside of your core. 
Steve didn’t respond verbally, his teeth gently grazing your earlobe as he rolled his hips against you matching the pace of his digits.
“Fuck, yes. Please… Talk to me, baby.”, you beg. 
Again, he doesn’t answer, releasing your hand to wrap his arm around your chest and hold you to him as he moved his fingers so fast between your legs that the sound of your slick filled the room. 
Your body trembles against his as the dam breaks and your nails dig into his skin as you cum. 
Rolling over on to your back, your eyes try to find his but he hastily diverts them as he focuses on pulling down your pants. Gripping his chin, you force him to look at you. 
“Talk to me, baby.”, you repeat. 
“Why are you here?”
His question genuinely threw you off as you scanned his face searching for a reason. 
“You asked me to. You said you didn’t want to be alone.”
“Yeah but WHY are you here, Y/N? You left me, you have a boyfriend, you think I’m a bad person yet you’re here.”
“I thought you wanted to be with me. That’s why you said what you said a few weeks ago. Why do you care? I’m just the girl you fuck to feel better right? RIGHT?!”
“THAT’S RIGHT!”, Steve shouts but even he realizes he sounds insincere. “You should go home.”
“What if I don’t want to go home.”
“I wasn’t asking. Get your shit and get out of my house.”
“No.”
Angrily, he rolled out of bed and grabbed your ankle, tugging you to the edge of the bed. Before he could take hold of your arm to lift you, you smacked his cheek blind siding him as you ran out of the bedroom and towards a guest room with the intent of shutting him out. 
Steve was much faster than you, wrapping his arm around your waist and lifting you off your feet as he carried you down the hall towards the stairs. 
“Why do you do this, Steve?! Why do you push me away?!”
“Because, little girl, like you said, I’m toxic. I’m just like my father and I’m sorry to say, honey, you aren’t at the level of my mother. You’re the side piece trash my dad throws out when he’s done.”
As soon as he reaches the bottom step, you take hold of the banister and manage to wiggle out of his hold, running towards the kitchen to allow for the barrier of the island between you two. 
“Said the man who has a picture of me in his nightstand. It seemed pretty worn too, Harrington. How long have you had it? How many times have you taken it out to look at over the years?”
“I look at it when I need a reminder of how low I sunk when it came to women back then. Thankfully I do much better now.”
“Oh yeah? Like Barbie? Wait, I mean Tiffany…Erica?”, you snicker sarcastically. “Couldn’t even bother to remember her name. Do you remember any of their names? Hell, was I the longest ‘relationship’ you had?!”
He lunges to the side but you duck out of the way just in time as you move around the island. 
“Oh shit, Steven. I was wasn’t I? Even in school you had all these women at your side but they were never yours. Why is that? Because if you had been in a real relationship, I never would have continued whatever the fuck we had. Didn’t have the balls to?”
You watch his face with immense satisfaction as his eyes get darker, filling with even more fury. 
“And that’s what pisses you off the most, huh? You say I’m the side piece but the fact of the matter is you are… and that scares you. I could throw you away just like your dad did to his whores… just like he does with you… Yet instead of standing up for yourself and claiming me; proving to me you can be a good man; you act like a child. You couldn’t even tell your daddy to fuck off which is why you went to the bar to get wasted.”
Shaking your head, you size him up and down with your eyes in disgust. 
“You’re not my Daddy, little boy.”
The calmness that washed over his face frighted you a bit, signaling to you that you needed to tread carefully. You had only ever seen him this way once before back in high school…the first time.
“Steve?”
“Jesus fucking Christ. What the fuck do you want?!”, the boy growls from his place on the bleachers in the now empty gymnasium.
“I don’t mean to bother you. I don’t know if you remember me but we have a couple of classes together—”
“Wonderful. Go away.”
His gruff tone shakes you a bit but you were determined to say what you wanted to say. 
“Ok. I, um, I just wanted to tell you that I heard what your parents…your dad… said and I just wanted you to know that…he’s wrong. I think you did amazing out there tonight. Honestly, I think you do awesome every game but…”
The jock’s angry yes shoot up to look at you as he scans you over. 
“Yeah. Thanks…”
“Y/N. No problem. I’ll, uh, I’ll leave you be now.”
Reaching out abruptly, his hand grips your wrist and yanks you in one motion on to his lap so you were straddling his waist facing him. You should have gasped and hit him, called him a pervert or asshole, and immediately got away from him but the way he was looking up at you with those heart broken eyes… 
“You’re a very nice pretty girl, aren’t you?” You blushed at his calm, seductive tone as your hands balanced yourself on his shoulders. “Can I return the favor?”
He fucked you right there on the bleachers not caring if any one saw either of you or if you were embarrassed by someone walking in and catching you two. Steve used you till he was spent and he wasn’t gentle by any means. You loved it and he knew it as he smirked up or down at you every time you came. 
He didn’t chase you this time as you left the kitchen and ran down the hall. You didn’t know why until the man rounded a sudden corner and wrapped his palm around your throat. Pushing you backwards, he guided you towards the sofa before taking a seat and hurling your front half over his lap.
You squirmed as he held you down, yelping when his hand came down hard on your behind. 
“It’s been too long since you’ve been punished properly, little girl. Between the disrespect, attitude, and being a little whore, I think it’s time I put you in your place.” You wiggled against his hold but he was firm as one of his arms pressed into your shoulder blades. “Stop moving!”, Steve shouted as his hand came down harder than before. 
“Ow…Steve…”
You yelped as his palm came down again a couple more times. 
“It seems, Y/N, that you keep forgetting who I am but don’t worry. We’ll make sure it sticks this time. If this is the only way to get through to you, so be it.”
“Steve…please…OW!”, you whine when he spanks you again. 
“Don’t act like this isn’t turning you on. I bet if we pull off these panties, you’d be dripping like the little disobedient slut you are.”
After hitting you again, he yanks down your underwear making you groan as he slides his finger through your slick. 
“See? Didn’t I just make you cum? Look how wet you are. I told you before, honey. Pissing each other off is the shit that really gets us going.”
Minutes passed but it felt like hours as he continued to spank you turning you into a sobbing mess. Your ass was extremely sore and marked up enough that you would need to come up with an excuse if Jacob saw them. 
“Steve, please…”, you begged. “How many more?”
“However…many…more…it…takes!”, he shouted near your ear as he hit your behind between each word. “Who am I, Y/N?”
Circling his thumb along your clit, he didn’t allow you a moment to breathe as he built you up and your brain blanked. 
“Answer me, little girl!”
“DADDY! You’re Daddy, Steve.”
“Damn right. I’m not some side piece you throw away. I’m fucking Daddy.”, he growled. “People like you and my parents think I’m nothing but I’m NOT. Women scream my name almost every night. I’m the CEO of a huge firm. I make a ton of fucking money. Why isn’t that enough, huh?!”
As his palm connected with your red, bruised skin, you came drenching his lap with your arousal. His chest rose and fell in heavy breaths as he tried to calm down, Steve’s gaze shifting to you when he heard your small sniffles. 
As carefully as he could, he lifted you up and turned you around till you were sitting properly on his lap with your face in the nook near his shoulder. While you continued to cry, his hands massaged your arms while he tenderly played with your hair. 
“What color are you at right now, honey?”
One of your arms rose to circle around his neck as you softly kissed his skin.
“Green, Daddy.”, you whisper. 
Steve curtly nodded as his eyes remained forward while he continued to pet your head, allowing you time to come back down. 
“Are you ok?”, he asked in a tone you had never heard from him before. He sounded almost…afraid. Lifting your head, your palm reaches for his cheek and turns his face so his eyes can meet yours. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to cross a line. I didn’t mean to…hurt you.”
Placing your forehead on his, he sighs as your fingertips run along the slight stubble over his chin and up to his lips. 
“I don’t mind you hurting me.”
“You’re not supposed to lie to me, baby girl, remember?”, he smirks as a breathy laugh escapes his chest. “You like when I’m rough with you in bed. You like pushing me to rile me up just like I do with you to see if you will because I know you’re a fucking brat.”
Steve’s grin grows as you blush, knowing he’s telling the truth. 
“The problem is you and I don’t know where the line is. It always seeped out into our day to day and into my insecurities. That’s what you don’t like. You don’t like me using you and breaking your heart. Just like I don’t like watching you cry. Not like this anyway.”
Lifting you into his arms, he carried you back to his bedroom and into the bathroom where you marveled at his massive clawfoot tub. After getting the bath ready, he holds your hand as he guides you but you pause before you sit. 
“Will you sit with me, Daddy?”
“Yeah, honey, I can do that.”
After waiting patiently for him to disrobe, you allow him to climb in behind you and take a seat as you lean against his chest. His large palms run along your shoulders and down your arms making you sigh as you tilt back to kiss his cheek. 
“You were always enough for me, Steve Harrington.” His eyes meet your own as you continue. “The problem was I was never enough for you.”
“Y/N, I’m moving to New York.” Your eyes widen as move away from him and scan his face for lies. “I was only supposed to be here for this project and then run the company as a whole from over there. I…I never expected to see you again. I…”, he pauses as he tries to collect his thoughts. “I want you to come with me.”
“Steve…I can’t…”
“Yes you can. I feel like we can work on this if we can be together. I know we can learn the line and just keep this in the bedroom without going too far and being toxic.”
“We had so many more problems than you being jealous and screaming things at me.”
“Y/N, I don’t want anyone else. I’m not the same guy I was. I won’t cheat. I won’t hurt you. I’ll claim you… I DO claim you. You’re mine, baby.”
“You just told me an hour ago that I’m just the girl you fuck and I should get the fuck out of your house.”
“I’m not perfect. Truth be told, like you said, I AM afraid of losing you again so I lashed out. I didn’t mean what I said.”
“I don’t believe you.”, you whisper. 
“Then why are you here?”
“You said—”
“No. You’re your own woman with your own free will. You still could have gone home. You still love me and I love you, sweetheart…so fucking much.”
His arms wrapped around you, hugging you to him as you began to disassociate. You did still love him; you always had even after you left but you left for a reason. You stayed away for a reason. If you and he were having this discussion 5 years ago you would know immediately that he was just doing whatever he could to appease you without really hearing you and hurt you again a few weeks later. What killed you was if this was 5 years ago and he said he was moving you would have said yes without thinking. 
Now you were overthinking and fear was taking over. 
What if things just went back to the way they were? He seems sincere but a lot of his behavior has been the same. But he said he wanted to work on that and with me. Steve said he was finally ready to claim me and that he loved me…
But what about Jacob? He’s been such a caring and patient good man. I can’t hurt him like this especially if there’s a chance Steve could hurt me again. 
You should have voiced your concerns to him and talked about it like adults. You should have sat on his couch and heard out his plans for success when it came to your relationship together. You should have listened and expressed everything you needed to but you didn’t.
“You knew what this was…”
Steve’s entire demeanor stiffened as you whispered the words he screamed at you the night before you left. 
“I’m sorry, Y/N. I didn’t quite catch that. Do you have the balls to say it louder?”
Rising to your feet, you grabbed a nearby towel, wincing when it grazed your behind as you wrapped it around your body.
“I said you knew what this was. It’s not my fault you caught feelings.”
He laughed to himself as he climbed out of the tub allowing the water to drench his bathroom as he headed for the bedroom. 
“Keeping going, honey. But really twist the knife and make it hurt. That’s what it will take for what you’re doing to work.” Grabbing your clothes off the floor, he tossed them in your direction as your eyes narrowed. “You’re trying to hurt me, right? To push me away because you’re scared of actually taking that leap and giving me a chance?”
Your glassy eyes shifted away from him as you threw your shirt over your head and pulled on your underwear. 
“Because that’s what I did.” You froze as he continued, slowly moving your way as he spoke. “Why do you think I fucked Lori that night? Y/N, you told me you loved me and it scared the hell out of me. I was a popular, rich, Harrington… I was supposed to become my father. I was supposed to cheat, run a business, and make a ton of money by any means necessary.”
Stopping at your side, his fingers gripped your chin forcing you to turn and look at him. 
“All I wanted to do was run away with you… but I panicked and hurt you instead causing you to run away without me. Y/N, I knew I fucked up when I climbed through your window and you were gone. I lost the one person that actually gave a damn about me and who I genuinely cared about. I’d like another chance and I promise you won’t regret it.”
“I already do.”, you murmured as you buttoned your jeans and began walking down his stairs towards his front door.
“Oh, Y/N?”, he called nonchalantly.
“What, Steven!?”, you shout as you glare up at his still naked frame leaning over the second-floor banister. 
“You forgot your phone.”, he says calmly flashing you the screen that was currently illuminating a picture of you and your boyfriend as his call came through. Panic flowed through your entire body as his thumb moved the green dot. 
“Y/N’s phone, this is Steve Harrington.”
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@daysinthephoenix @sophiejayne-illustrations713 @livosssblog
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keerysfolklore · 5 months
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if you lock me and him in a room together, someone’s coming out pregnant and it’s NOT ME
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rustedhearts · 11 months
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everytime (steve harrington x fem!reader)
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summary: despite your break up two months ago, you can't seem to stay away from each other. when you need him, he's there. but how long can this really last?
uses she/her pronouns and female anatomy.
♡ the steve collection ♡
tags: steve + reader are college age (early-mid 20s), alcohol consumption, angst, hurt/comfort-ish, reader may have a bit of a substance abuse issue (it's heavily implied), accidental casual dominance? (steve really just takes care of her)
"every time i try to fly i fall without my wings, i feel so small. i guess i need you, baby. and every time i see you in my dreams, i see your face, it's haunting me. i guess i need you, baby."
—everytime, britney spears (ethel cain cover)
hawkins, indiana 1999
For your first date, Steve took you to Harvey's: a little retro milkshake diner off the interstate with the soggiest salted French fries and the smoothest strawberry shake you'd ever had in your life. He kissed you against the tin wall, right beneath the neon crimson exit sign. He held your hand on the drive home and kissed your knuckles at stop signs. You're so fuckin' beautiful, he told you on your porch.
That was senior year, three years ago.
For your last date, Steve took you to Enzo's: the fanciest Italian restaurant in town with bitter sauce and crunchy breadsticks. He didn't kiss you on the way there, nor the way back. You barely looked each other in the eye during the entire meal. When the check came, Steve slid it into his lap and turned to your hand, limp and empty on the tabletop. This isn't working anymore...is it? he asked you.
That was two months ago.
Your relationship had been on the outs for a while. All you did was fight, and not the fun, witty banter you used to have. The arguments turned explosive: doors slamming, engines revving, broken picture frames. Steve accused you of flirting with every man you came in contact with. You accused him of insecurity and projection. The pair of you made a scene no matter where you went, and soon it became exhausting just to be in your presence. You were bitter and bitchy, no longer the sweet girl he loved to make giggle. You became resentful and mean, and he became passive and silent.
It wasn't working, and it hadn't been working for a while.
You moved out of the apartment and in with a friend from college, taking the tiny spare bedroom she'd been using for storage. Most of it lived in the closet now, but the space was yours. The move was difficult—you'd lived with Steve since the day after high school graduation. You were gonna get married. You were gonna move west to California when you were done with school and abandon Indiana together. The pair of you had dreams bigger than this town, and now that you had gone your separate ways, they felt out of reach.
But you hadn't really gone your separate ways, had you?
You spoke on the phone a few nights a week, murmuring in the darkness about your days. Though it always went unspoken, I miss you bled through every phone call. When he inevitably sighed, and the receiver crackled with his shuffling, you had to bite way tears. I should get to bed, he'd say, and he'd say it like an apology. You soaked your pillow, wishing you'd told him you loved him a little more than you did when you had the chance.
Because you always loved Steve, and you were certain you always would. Nobody had ever been so kind to you, so sweet and understanding. Steve saw you for who you were, and never wanted you to change. But you pulled away from him, pushed him out when he tried to get in. Nobody bothered to stick around as long as Steve did. And that scared you.
Now here you were, crying yourself to sleep.
♡ ♡
One thing you didn't lose in the breakup were your friends. They refused to pick sides, insisting that there was no need to choose one or the other when they could easily split their time. More often than not, you found yourself waving to Steve through Eddie Munson's apartment window as he got into his car and drove off—like switching shifts, alternating between your visits and Steve's. He'd wave back, a stiff palm in the air directed your way in the windshield, paired with a tight-lipped, solemn smile.
Tonight, Eddie was hosting a party with his girlfriend, Gwen, and you knew the crowd would be absent of Steve. The only reason Steve ever attended parties was because you wanted to. He much preferred staying in and reading, or going to dinner just the two of you. He hated crowds and loud music, the 'sloppy drunks and fuzzy potheads' as he called them. He hated Eddie's other friends, and he hated you around them. You were always a little too eager to guzzle alcohol and puff a joint—it was the topic of many of your arguments.
He wasn't wrong, and that's what pissed you off the most.
Because here you were, on your third rum and coke of the night, sipping from a tiny red straw and chewing on the plastic. Eyes hazy and rimmed pink, cheeks flushed with warmth, sweating down your spine. The apartment was crammed with people like sardines in a tin can, and you stumbled through them on your way to the kitchen for some sort of snack. There, you found Robin and Gwen leaning against the sink, eyeing you pitifully as you fell between them with a sigh.
"What's up, girls?" You were out of breath and slurring your words.
They shared a look over your head, cringing. "How many have you had, babe?" Gwen asked.
You hummed, rubbing at your eye and smearing glitter across your cheek. "Uh...like two? Three. Definitely three."
"Three and?"
You huffed, tipping your head back exasperatedly. "Three and, like, one fucking hit. How many have you had, Robin?"
Your tone was mean. It always got a little sharp and cruel when you had too much to drink. The words always came flying out before you could swallow them, and you always woke the next morning with a massive headache and a ball of regret the size of Canada sitting in your throat. You felt it, a pang of guilt stabbing your gut, when you saw your friends' faces fall. You felt it, wringing your heart like a wet washcloth when Steve would stomp off.
"Hey. We're just looking out for you," Gwen interjected, brows furrowing at your tone.
Your cheeks flamed, teeth digging into the fleshy interior of your cheek to stop the tears of humiliation from springing forth. You turned around shakily and took a warm cheese cube from the platter on the counter.
"I know. But I'm...I'm fine. Okay?"
The girls sighed, and Eddie came shuffling into the kitchen with a beer and a cigarette in hand. He wrapped an inked arm around Gwen's neck, pulling her in by the crook of his elbow to plant a loud kiss on the top of her head. She fit into his side and nuzzled his neck, smiling in greeting. You swallowed, throat coated with thick warning. You were going to cry, and you sure as fuck weren't gonna do it here.
"Hey, what's up, scholar?" Eddie asked you, smacking your arm playfully.
You refused to turn around, knowing if you did the whole kitchen would see your glossy eyes and wobbling lip. But this just made you mean again, and as you plucked more cheese from the counter and poked at limp peppers, you pulled in on yourself. Eddie turned to his girlfriend and Robin, who shook their heads dejectedly.
"You okay, honey?" Robin reached out to rub your arm, and you curled away to wave her off, keeping your face angled toward the floor.
"I'm fine. I just...I'm gonna...go wash my hands."
You hurried off, refusing to meet their eyes as you went. You staggered through a sea of people, dizzy and foggy-headed, struggling to breathe. Gwen and Eddie's bedroom was the last door on the left, and you burst into the room with an urgent gasp of breath. The door slammed after you, and you had half a mind to sink onto the floor and lie there for the rest of the night until you stopped crying—but then you saw the phone.
You didn't even think about it.
You knew the number by heart. You dialed the numbers like second nature, lifting the phone to your ear to cradle the cool plastic with shaky fingers. You sniffled to clear the snot, swiping at the tears dripping down your cheeks. The dial tone droned. Once, twice, three times. You sank onto the floor against the bed, leaning your head back against the soft mattress.
"Hello?"
You squeezed your eyes shut. "Stevie?"
It was quiet a moment, and then another soft sigh. "Honey...why are you callin' me? Is everything okay?"
His voice, so soft and smooth like it always was, felt like a security blanket. It wrapped around you, tendrils curling around your bones to hold them tight like he used to. And you wanted nothing more than to hear that voice murmuring in your ear, with his arms around you to keep you safe. Everything's been so off-kilter since he left. Since you left each other. Every day feels like finding your footing all over again. Naked and bare, you weren't sure which direction to go in unless he was there to guide you.
And as selfish as it sounded, you wanted him to guide you again.
"N-No. I'm so fucked up, Steve—it's so fucked up."
Shuffling crackled through the receiver, and you imagined Steve sitting up in bed and rubbing his tousled hair. He sounded tired when he spoke again. "You been drinkin', baby?"
You nodded, sniffling nosily. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry, Stevie."
Keys tinkled like wind chimes in the distance of the other line. "Where are you, honey? Hmm? Do you know?"
You sighed, snot rattling in the back of your throat. Your hand fell to the itchy carpet beneath your legs, rubbing your palm to scratch it. You hated how this sounded like a routine. Like he expected you to call, all fucked out and lost. You wished you were better for him.
"M' at Eddie's."
"Oh, okay," Steve sounded a little relieved. "Stay where you are, alright?" He was coming to you.
"Steve...you don't have t' come, m' sorry. M' sorry, just...I'm all over the place."
"I'll be right there."
The line clicked, and you carefully placed the phone back in the cradle. The tears started up again, full force and breathless. You gasped for air and hiccuped like an infant as you clawed your way onto the bed, sprawling out on your back. You were grateful the room was dark. You didn't want to see yourself like this.
You listened the songs change while you waited to calm your cries. The room hadn't stopped spinning, and your throat felt so tight. Your chest hurt with a hollow ache that hadn't gone away since your last night at Steve's. You slept in the same bed, facing opposite walls. In the morning, you slid your key across the table and kissed his cheek. He carried your boxes to the car and stroked your cheek with his thumb against the passenger door. He smelled like hazelnut coffee and sleep.
Four songs passed before you heard familiar voices murmuring outside the door.
"Jesus, Steve, you can't keep coming to rescue her," Robin huffed.
You wiped your cheeks, lips downturning. Tough love really hurt when it came from your closest friends.
"Mind your business."
"This is my business. I care about both of you, and this is just...this is unhealthy!"
"Get out of my fucking way, Buckley."
The door handle jiggled, and you turned your head to watch it open. A streak of yellow light sliced through the blue darkness of the room.
"You don't know shit," Steve muttered, and then he was standing in the room.
The thump of music became muffled by the door once more, light clamped off to return the pair of you to darkness. A strip of moonlight beaconed over his face as he stepped closer, hands in the pockets of his jeans. You could hear his keys jingling as he fidgeted. He tipped his head at the sight of you lying there.
"Hi," you whispered. It was the sweetest you’d sounded in months.
Steve swallowed, trying not to rush over and kiss you. He had to fight the urge each time he saw you, even in passing. It felt wrong to part ways without a kiss goodbye. Even when you fought, you always stopped to kiss each other before going to work or heading to bed. It became one of Steve's favorite habits. He felt empty without it.
"Hi," he murmured back.
You sniffled, carefully turning your head away to look toward the ceiling. You were disappointed to see it was still swirling. You suddenly wished you were sober. Maybe he'd see you differently.
"You didn't have to come."
Steve shrugged in your periphery. He was wearing one of those collared polos that you loved. Three buttons always left undone, tight white t-shirt underneath. You wanted him closer. You wanted to smell his cologne again.
"But I'm here."
You shuffled to your elbows, groaning softly. Something lurched in your stomach, coiled tight in your belly. You were gonna be sick, but you didn't want to be in front of Steve. Pushing off weakly on your palms, you sat upright and wiped your cheek, smearing more makeup in the process.
Steve inched closer, waiting for his cue to step in. It came when you stood and wavered on the carpet, reaching for a steady surface.
"Alright, easy, honey." He swooped in, arm wrapped around your waist to guide you toward the bathroom door.
He pushed it open and flicked on the light, propping you against the sink like a Barbie doll. With an open palm on your stomach, he kept you upright as he rummaged through the drawers for a rag. You played with the brown leather band of his watch as he ran the rag under warm water, a pout embedded on your mouth.
"Wanna hop up there f' me?"
You braced the cold counter with the heel of your palms, lifting on wobbly arms to sit on top. "Atta girl," Steve mumbled under his breath, and even in your bleary state you flushed with warmth.
Resting against the mirror, you watched Steve lather powder white soap onto the wet cloth until it bubbled, bringing two fingers under the pink cotton to wipe against your cheek. His eyes were steady on his own ministrations, watching his hand clean away the smeared mascara and tears.
Your eyes, however, could only focus on him. His big sad eyes, swampy green and brown flanked by long, curled lashes. The mocha-colored freckles grazing his cheeks and collarbone, sprinkled along his neck. The pout on his plump pink lips, taken between his teeth in concentration.
When he switched the cloth to the other cheek, you exhaled shakily and caught his wrist. His eyes flicked to yours, finally catching your gaze. He blinked, another one of those toothless, tight-lipped smiles breezing over his lips. It was painted with pity.
Wrapping both hands around the warmth of his forearm, you tipped your cheek into his palm and the soapy, damp cloth encompassed around it. Steve sighed, chest deflating beneath that handsome polo. In the fluorescents of the bathroom, he looked prettier than ever. You were smaller than he'd ever seen you, crumpled and disheveled.
"You drank too much again." He said it the way he orders a cheeseburger in the drive-thru: casual, predictable, cool. He expected this.
That's what always hurt you most.
Your mouth opened to utter a reply, but all that came was a shuttered breath. Your lip downturned, jutting out in a petulant pout that made him ache. He swiped two fingers, cool from the cloth and scented of clean soap, across your temple and into your hair, tucking it behind your ear.
"Just felt sad," you admitted lowly, rubbing your hand along his arm.
Steve placed his hand against your other cheek, suddenly cradling your face. His thumb made circles in your sticky skin—firm, tender, just the way you used to like it. Your eyes fluttered closed, head falling deeper into his hold.
"About what?" His voice was so soft, so small. The rest of the world fell away outside of his tiny, outdated bathroom.
You scoffed humorlessly, head shaking. You opened your eyes again as you fiddled with his watch. "You know what."
Steve's gaze rolled over your face, swollen and pink, stuck in a defeated frown. He wondered if you'd remember this in the morning, or if it'd be another night you fell fuzzy on.
"Yeah...yeah, I know, baby."
You huffed, breath hot and laced with liquor across his arm. "M' sorry. M' sorry I made you come out here, and...m' just...m' just sorry—"
"—hey, come on—"
"—no, Steve...m' a mess. Everyone's right about me."
The pads of Steve's fingers scratched at your scalp, and you hated how easily you purred like a kitten at his touch. Your neck craned, and if it weren't for his hand holding your head up, you might've lied down right there on the sink. Inebriation had its claws in you deep.
"Hey," he cooed, urging your head up with his wash-clothed hand. "Don't talk like that."
When you did nothing but continue to frown and sniffle, Steve sighed and steadied you upright. "C'mon, lemme finish cleanin' you up."
Your shoulders slumped, head bobbing gently. "Okay."
Steve chuckled, rubbing your other cheek with the soapy cloth. "Okay."
You were pliant to his pulling and prodding, allowing him to clean you without complaint. He tucked your hair behind your ears when your face was washed, and filled a Dixie cup with cool water for you to drink. He rested his hands on your bare knees as he watched you gulp it down, patting them when you were done.
"All done?"
You nodded, handing him the paper cup. He tossed it in the trash bin, nudging your chin up with two fingers. "Hey. You with me?"
You nodded again. "Mhm."
"I'm gonna take you home, okay?"
You grasped his hand, pushing your fingers through his. "Okay."
He helped you off the counter, but he didn't drop your hand. He held it as he guided you through the dark bedroom and into the hall, using it to pull you into his side to fit through the crowd. When you made it to the kitchen, you were stopped by your friends, and you pressed your head to Steve's firm back as their voices melded into a yell.
"Oh, fuck off, Munson, seriously, this is none of your business. Last I checked, our relationship only involved the two of us."
"What relationship? You broke up—weeks ago, by the way, in case you forgot—"
"—I didn't forget," Steve hissed, side-stepping and pulling you with him to avoid Eddie. "And for the last time, it’s none of your business.”
You peered back at the group of your friends huddled near the sink as Steve steered you toward the back door. You knew they were disappointed—you could see it in their empty eyes and pursed lips. You could see it in the way Gwen had to rub Eddie’s arm to calm him down. Because the two of you were making a mistake, and you’d never move on if you kept crawling back to each other every chance you got.
But maybe you didn’t want to move on, and maybe Steve didn’t either.
Steve took you home that night, and sat you on the end of the bed. He pulled your dress down your legs and replaced it with a big t-shirt: sunshine yellow, drenched in Steve. He tucked you under the blankets and kissed your head. And then he crawled in beside you, and held you the whole night.
He took you home, where you belonged: with him. And he didn’t know if you’d wake the next morning wondering where you were, or happy to see him nuzzled in your neck, but Steve was willing to roll the dice. For now, he could pretend this was how it always was, and that you never left.
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lockwoodsean-archive · 4 months
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𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐈 𝐖𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝𝐧’𝐭 𝐃𝐨
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pairing : gator tillman x fem!reader
contents : smut 18+, hint of perv!gator, mean!gator, daddy kink, praise, degradation, slight uniform kink ?, boot humping, mentions of edging, ownership kink, size kink, breeding kink bc you know me lol, slightest bit of overstimulation, piv unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, soft ending
a/n : this is nasty and i’m only kind of sorry. reblogs and feedback are highly appreciated! masterlist.
word count : 2,4k
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There’s not much that you wouldn’t do for Gator if he asked. Generally speaking, or, in the bedroom. You’ve told Gator this, and he likes to test just how truthful you’re actually being. You weren’t ever burdened by his requests, and you were raised to take care of your man—to keep him happy—and that’s what you did.
Today, Gator wanted to test your loyalty. He had an awful day, and he needed to know that he could count on you to do what he says and when. Gator yelled out in almost a menacing tone, “I’m home! Where’s my sweet girl?”
“I’m in the bedroom. Just tidying some things up!” you shouted, not thinking much of it.
When you heard him walk into the bedroom, you ran up to him to wrap him in your arms, and kissed him like a woman starved. Being separated from your boyfriend for a few hours felt like days to you. Gator was pleased with the greeting, but he needed more reassurance.
“I missed you, daddy,” you whispered between kisses.
While he was kissing you back, he reached under your short skirt to feel how wet you were. Gator always did checks like that because he wanted you soaking through your panties for him even when he wasn’t around. There was never any issue with that because just the thought of him had you dripping. Gator’s slender fingers ran through your slick folds, and he hummed in content.
“You’re soaking wet, baby,” he murmured against your lips.
“Been thinking about you,” you replied. “Been thinkin’ ‘bout your cock.”
Gator felt himself growing harder by the second. He needed to be buried in your cunt after the day he’s been having, but not before he tested your loyalty to him. “I know. I wanna be inside you so bad, you don’t even know. Can you do something for me first?”
You nodded fervently, “Anything, daddy. I wanna make you so happy.”
“Good girl, I know. I want you to get off by humping my boot. I know you want to, baby,” Gator circled your clit slowly, making you gasp. His voice got lower, “I know you need to get rid of that ache between those pretty thighs.”
Gator stepped away, and took a seat at the edge of the bed. He slightly extended his left foot, and tapped it on the ground as an invitation for you to sit on it. You walked closer to him, carefully stepping out of your skirt and panties. You caught sight of the wet patch, and Gator was right. You were soaking.
You got on your knees, held onto Gator’s knee, and lowered yourself until your core pressed against the cool leather of the boot. You tilted your hips forward to press your clit down against the laces. “You look so pretty like this. Wanna start moving those hips for me? Wanna see you make a mess of my work boots.”
The praise made your pussy flutter, and you knew that you had to do what he said to get more of it. You started rocking your hips back and forth over the leather. It was pretty smooth, but sometimes your clit would catch a seam, or the laces, and you let out a choked up moan.
Your forehead was resting on your hands on Gator’s knee, but you looked up at his face. He wore a proud expression. He loved seeing his baby girl so wet and needy that she’d hump his boot in desperation. Sure, he asked for you to, but you both knew you would’ve done it even if he didn’t ask you.
Your eyes wandered down to look at the big, printed letters on Gator’s chest that read “Sheriff”. Then your focus moved to the shiny, gold badge on the other side of his vest. It made him look so official and important. He was official and important. Gator holding so much power in the palm of his hand turned you on more than anything.
You gripped onto Gator’s pant leg tighter. You started grinding your pussy harder, and faster. Your juices made it difficult to find much friction anymore, but you were desperate to make Gator proud, and make a mess of his boots, just like he wanted.
Gator watched you, and lazily palmed himself through his trousers. “Jesus, you’re humping my boot like a dumb little bitch in heat. So fucking desperate to get off. All you think about when I’m not around is how you want my cock in you, filling you up with my cum.You should be embarrassed right now, but, God, I love seeing you like this.”
You whimpered, more or less confirming what he had said. Gator was right. You were a dumb little bitch, but you were his bitch. He told you that you weren’t allowed to cum without his permission. What he really wanted was to make you feel so good that you wouldn’t ever be able to cum unless he made you. Nothing would ever be comparable to him anymore.
There were so many days where you had to find any kind of distraction from touching yourself while Gator was gone. You’d try everything to relieve yourself, from using your heel when you were sitting on the ground to clean, to pressing your clit against the arm of the sofa. Though, sometimes you couldn’t help yourself. You had to reach your hand between your legs to rub at your clit. You’d rub, and rub, but stop yourself right before you were about to cum. That way you didn’t break any rules.
You finally found a good rhythm, and the way the seams of his boots felt against your folds, and how the laces nudged against your clit felt just right. You squeezed your eyes shut in concentration. Heat in your tummy started to rise. Your grinding started to get sloppy, and Gator could feel it. He bounced his foot slightly to create more movement.
Gator cooed, “You close? That’s a girl, you’re almost there. Then, daddy can give you what you really want.”
Your breathing was heavy and ragged. The coil was so close to snapping. You barely had any control over your movements, but you did everything that you could, and made sure the laces rubbed against your sensitive bud perfectly. You whined, “I’m so close, daddy! Please, can I cum?”
“Go ahead, princess. Make a mess of my boots like a good little slut,” Gator nodded.
Your orgasm hit you harder than you were expecting it to. You clawed at Gator’s pant leg, and you surprised yourself with how loud your moans were. Your legs trembled as you continued to hump the man’s boot to extend your high. Gator leaned over enough to pet your hair, and praise you.
Even after your orgasm, and you were sitting still on his, now, wet, boot, your pussy was still throbbing and clenching around nothing. You were still aching for your daddy to fuck you, just like you had been dreaming about all day since he left. Gator was just as eager to remind you who you belonged to.
“Is that what you wanted, daddy? Will you fuck me now, please?” You looked at Gator with the most innocent face. You rested your chin on his knee, made your eyes big, and batted your long eyelashes a few times.
“Of course, princess. Since you asked so nicely, and made me so proud of you.”
Gator stood up, and you climbed onto the bed where he was once sitting. You giggled as he got distracted from taking off his belt to look down at his messy boot and smiled. He pulled his trousers down far enough to spring his cock free, but couldn’t do much more from the thigh holster still strapped around his leg.
“Get over here, pretty,” Gator hooked his arms underneath your knees to pull you closer. He ran his index finger through your slick folds again. You could hear the admiration in his voice, “Never thought I’d own anything as pretty as you, or your cunt.”
He used his other hand to use his thumb to swipe over his slit that was already leaking precum. He added another finger to drag through your folds, and you squirmed under his touch. It made Gator chuckle like a bastard over how impatient you were. It was torture watching him stroke himself while he teased you with his fingers.
“Need your cock, Gator,” you pouted.
Gator chuckled out a breathy “okay”. He slid his length through your glistening folds, making sure to catch your clit while he did it. You whined at how close he was to where you needed him the most. “Is this what you wanted, baby? Use your words.”
“No, I—I need your cock inside me. Need you to cum in me. I want to be yours,” you choked out.
“That wasn’t so hard to ask for was it?”
Gator pressed the head of his cock to your tight entrance. He was slow at first, and you thought that maybe he was giving you time to adjust to his size. Once he had the tip in, he forced him inside you with one swift motion. You yelped in surprise. Fully sheathed, Gator shoved two fingers into your mouth. “You’re going to stay quiet, and suck on my fingers while I wreck your little pussy. Nod if you understand.”
You nodded, and Gator wasted no time pounding into you like a feral animal. The force alone had you folded in half, and with each thrust, the head of his cock knocked into your cervix. You tried to concentrate on sucking his fingers, but your mouth hung open. Choked up moans left your throat involuntarily. Gator removed his fingers, then placed his palm flat over your mouth.
“I told you to be quiet, slut. Good girls listen to their daddies.” Gator’s thrusts became brutal, and your cunt was dripping with arousal. You always wanted to be Gator’s good, subservient girl, but when he was mean it made your pussy throb. You laid still as best as you could, letting Gator use you however he pleased.
Gator’s length pulsed, his eyes closed, and he let out a satisfied hum. The hand over your mouth dropped down to your chest, where he squeezed your tits over the thin fabric of your tee shirt. “You’re making me feel so fucking good, angel. This pussy was designed for me. I could stay buried in your sweet cunt forever. Just wanna fill you with my cum over and over.”
He was barely pulling out anymore, just rutting his hips against your core. Gator opened his eyes again, staring directly into yours. Your eyes were bleary, but noticed how his eyebrows were furrowed in concentration, and you could hear his shallow pants.
Gator moved your legs so they were now resting on his shoulders, and he leaned forward. Somehow, he was reaching even deeper. You were doing a good job biting your lip to keep from making any noise, but your mouth fell open again. You went to claw at his chest, but his vest shielded him from any of your desperate marks. “Gator—daddy, it hurts! It’s too much.”
Despite your words, your pussy clenched around his cock as he found your g-spot. Gator smiled, “I think it’s perfect. I know you like it,” He pushed a finger into your hole along with his cock, stretching you out even more. “I think she agrees with me on that, too.”
You didn’t even realise you were holding your breath until Gator removed his finger, and pressed it against your sensitive bundle of nerves. You gasped, and your chest heaved, trying to get air back into your lungs. You felt yourself getting close to your second orgasm, but you knew you had to get Gator’s permission to cum.
Gator’s cock dragging against your walls, fucking any coherent thoughts out of your head. You knew you needed to ask if you could cum, but you couldn’t get the words out. All you could say was “Cum—please. Need to cum soon.”
“So drunk on my cock you can’t even say a full sentence. I should deny you just to see how long until you’re completely gone,” You were basically already fucked out of your mind. You had no control over your pussy anymore, and it spasmed around Gator’s cock involuntary. “I won’t do that to you today, though. I love you too much to tease you like that. Cream all over my cock, sweet thing. Be as loud as you want.”
With one last stroke over your spongey spot, you were cumming. You were practically screaming as your head thrashed, and your fists white knuckled the duvet. Gator took his fingers to your clit, rapidly rubbing from side to side. You reached to pull his hand away because the overstimulation was too much, but he swatted it away.
You came down from your climax, and you felt brain dead. You could barely even register that Gator was still fucking you. Your pussy throbbed around his cock. He grabbed your waist, and within a few more brutal thrusts, he was cumming too. He made sure his cock was as deep as he could get it, and the grip he had on you was definitely going to leave bruises. “Fuck, fuck, fuck—shit, you feel so good, baby. Gonna fill you up so much that you’ll be leaking the rest of the day.”
Every pulse of his cock made your pussy flutter even more. His warm seed flooded your hole, and you felt complete. Gator’s cock buried inside of you along with his cum was your favourite feeling in the world.
Gator fell on top of you, and with all of his gear, he was even heavier than usual. He tucked his nose in the crook of your neck, and whispered, “I love you so much, doll, you don’t even know.”
You pet the hair on the back of his head. “I love you, too, daddy.”
He sat up, and pulled out of your cunt. You whined at the empty feeling. Gator started fully undressing out of his uniform. “I know, sweetheart. How about we take a nice, hot shower together, and after dinner, we can watch a movie. I’ll let you sit on my cock as long as you’re a good girl for me.”
You perked up at his offer. “Okay, daddy. I’ll be so good. I promise.”
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harrysfolklore · 1 year
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backstage girlfriend
third day of blurbs and i hope you’re not bored yet because this is a collab with my babie @astranva we really hope you like this <<3
backstage girlfriend masterlist | my masterlist
ask me anything | send me a tip for my blog’s anniversary (if u want of course) <3
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liked by uncle_jezzy, maya_hawke and 437 others
yourinstagram unbothered. moisturizing. happy. in my lane. focused. flourishing.
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uncle_jezzy Photo credits?
↳ yourinstagram 📸 Joe Keery 2022 ® all rights reserved
↳ uncle_jezzy That’s better 🥰
annetwist I miss you dear !! ❤️
↳ yourinstagram i miss you too, nonnie 🥺 let’s meet up when you’re free <3
maya_hawke Why does your man constantly steal you from me
↳ yourinstagram i’ll be all yours this weekend 💃
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enews Joe Keery out with new girlfriend and Harry Styles’s EX! Here’s everything we know about Y/N Y/L/N! Link in bio.
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harryfan1 PLOT TWIST
fan1 they look so cute
fan2 i love celebrity gossip so much
harryfan2 the fact that SHE broke HARRY STYLES’ heart is comical to me. how tf can a 2 break his heart 
↳ fan1 this is so unprovoked
↳ fan2 stfu
TEXTS BETWEEN JEFF AND HARRY
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liked by harryupdates, harryfan2 and 82,836 others
celebrityleaks HARRY STYLES LEAKED SONG: GLIMPSE OF US. LINK IN OUR BIO
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harryfan1 come on respect his work
harryfan2 nauuurr not harry building her entire career only for her to fuck him up. she does belong to the streets lmfao
↳ fan1 these harry styles fans are disgusting omfg
harryfan3 they were so in love :(
fan2 maybe what they had was read but it’s over now and yn is clearly happier now
harryfan4 DONT SPREAD IT
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harryupdates Harry in NYC today, according to fans, he refused to take any pictures or sign anything :/
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harryfan1 baby :(
harryfan2 oh he is PISSED
harryfan3 fuck yn fr
↳ fan1 why are you so quick to attack her ???
harryfan4 stop spreading the song ffs
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theharrytea okay but we NEED to talk about glimpse of us because WTF was that ?? OUR BOY GOT HIS HEART BROKEN
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harryfan1 fuck yn for real
harryfan2 if miss girlie isn’t crawling on her knees to get back with him i’ll assume she’s a cold hearted snake
harryfan3 both her and joe keery can get lost 🤷‍♀️
↳ harryfan4 i call bullshit on that relationship, she’s probably just using him just as she used harry
harryfan5 i just want to hug him
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uncle_jezzy Dear fans and followers, I wanted to make a wee community announcement. I couldn’t help but notice that there has been some social animosity of late. It’s becoming increasingly prevalent on my feed. There has been lots of, let’s call it speculation for now, about my private life and relationships.
Now, while I do appreciate the passion and support by those very people who are ‘speculating,’ it has come to such a point that I needed to say something, which in itself is a bad thing. We are living in an age of social enlightenment. More and more, people are realizing that their views may have been blinkered and that they need to expand them to encompass others.
So to you out there who are expressing your disdain and showing your displeasure through a surprising variety of ways, it’s time to stop. I know it can be fun to speculate, to gossip, and to dive into our own personal echo chambers on the internet, but your ‘passion’ is misplaced, and it causes harm to the people I care about most, and I won’t stand for it.
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fan1 OH EM GEE
maya_hawke I say those are my babies and I’m proud
annetwist ❤️
↳ harryfan1 anne ????
↳ harryfan2 is she aware that they broke her son’s heart?
florencepugh the love i have for the both of you it’s just so 🥺
mtv 👏🏻👏🏻👏🏻
harryfan3 there she goes.. playing the victim.. again
camimendes True love always wins ❤️
fan2 joe actually SPOKE about it oh yall pissed gim off
INSTAGRAM STORIES FROM YN AND JOE’S FRIENDS
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taglist: @cucciolafaerie @eleanordaisy @sunflowersndpeaches @golden-hoax @alienorknight @daydreamingofmatilda @sunflowervolume66 @vanteguccir r @ivyproblems @ayeshathestyles @stylesmygucci @gimsaysay @rosaliedepp @dontworrysunflower r @milfrrynation @manifestrry @iceebabies s @harrystylesrecs @pleasingrryyy @harianaswhore @leadmetogarden @abeanontoast t @grapejuice-rry @vrittivsanghavi @msolbesg @tati813 @sad1esgf @ivegotparticulartaste @wobblymug @eviesaurusrex @olivialovesh @itsgabbysblog @theekyliepage @gumballavocadoharry @watermelonsugacry @be-with-me-so-happily @a-strange-familiar @reveriehs @musicforcinemas @rafeyyyyy @tinydeskwriter @noooovaaaaa @tenaciousperfectionunknown @mxltifxnd0m @rach2602 @balletdancerry
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