#lil Stevie ideas

[just-a-tiny-void]

Let me have unhinged Steve Harrington

Let me have this man- this child

(cuz that’s what they all are, right?

Just children doin a job that they were never supposed to be have to begin with)-

Filled with an all consuming rage cuz everything is just too much

Too much grief,

Too much pain-

…too much failure.

So let me have a quiet Steve Harrington, one shaped by war.

Ever observing to those that he loves because he can’t (he just can’t) lose anymore.

A weapon always within reach just in case.

A walkman n radio for hun to help.

So let me have a grief stricken Steve Harrington, with sharp edges shaped by heartbreak.

Because he’s lost in what could’ve been n what if,

Because he wasn’t strong enough,

He wasn’t fast enough-

Wasn’t good enough for them.

So what was he worth?

So let me have this shell of a child-

Fighting one last battle against these monsters that have taken everything from his family,

Bloodthirsty and without mercy

To bring them back, to make them whole again.

So let me have this child-

N let him feel

N let him be loved.

————————————————————

N then everyone lives, get some therapy, n have their happily ever after cuz dammit they deserve it.

(if this is bad I’m sorry I just want this boy to let it out while killing some monsters n protecting his people)

[stevebabey]

another one! 📽 📽

imagine it’s summer and it’s hot and the sun is so toasty on your skin and steve feels restless and spontaneous so he suggests you go on a drive so you pack some driving snacks and hit the road. it somehow ends with you and steve at lovers lake (or a less traumatic lake for him poor lad lol) and y’all go for a dip, in your underwear or maybe, ya know, a lil skinny dipping shenanigans are in your future 😉 *in the summertime by mungo jerry plays*

okay ily ruby have fun and again congrats girl!!! xoxo

mmmmm we all deserve summertime steve for fuckin real obsessed with the vibes you have created in the studio today maddie ur brain so delicio 🌊 yet again, i cannot shut up for the life of me <3 i want to go swchimming w him so bad fr he’s such a summer bf

it’ll have been one of those sweltering nights where even the sheets feel too much and come morning, not one ounce of you wants to stay in bed and cuddle like you normally do because it’s stinkin’ hot and you’re fairly certain steve is already sweating lightly just pressed next to you— you tell him as much when he tries to sleepily cuddle you in closer, giving him a pout and a “s’too warm, stevie :(“ and steve can’t even disagree, he’s burning up in the heat of the sun through your windows - but there’s also a glimpse of blue blue sky stretching out endlessly, which means opportunity !

so he flops back, relents the space and stares at the ceiling while u stare at him, just observing him lovingly, counting every mole <3 he takes a minute of quiet contemplation, during which your back manages to get completely heated, pressed against the mattress, and you’re bout to complain bout it again when he blows a raspberry and turns his head to face you. “d’ya wanna go for a drive? :) nd maybe a swim?” and god, if that doesn’t sound like heaven- you’re nodding along before you even open your mouth but also, u gotta check in with him “you sure ya wanna swim, stevie?” and his eyes search your face for a moment, thinking about it properly, before he nods, a grateful smile pulling at his lips, “yeah, honey, we’ll drive outta hawkins to find a good spot- sound okay?”

overtop your swimsuit, you pick a nice pair of daisy-dukes that definitely catch steve’s eye for an extra second and you grin, having to shoo him into getting ready— and you meet him down in his car, rolling the windows down to combat the sun that’s letting out blistering hot heatwaves, making u long for a popsicle or anything icy really. steve’s out a couple minutes later, two towels over his shoulders and a— you sit up a bit straighter, spotting the picnic basket in his hands!!! he calls forward as he opens the trunk to put stuff in, “i thought we could have some snacks! make a lil picnic date of it!” and you chest bursts with warmth and love for him and you literally can’t say anything except, “you’re sorta incredible, steve harrington” and it’s just the thing to say to get that flushed colour on his cheeks that has nothing to do with the heat and all to do with what you do to him.

driving along, you desperately wish you had a camera if only to capture the image of steve beside you, windows down, the breeze ruffling his hair and the collar of his shirt which is unbuttoned dangerously low. you can see the thatch of chest hair against his tan chest, his collarbones that are honestly begging for a lovebite or maybe ten, those classic cool glasses sitting on the bridge of his nose. you’re fairly certain you could look at him like this for hours- and he seems to return the sentiment fully, spending the drive torn between glancing at you in the passenger seat — one hand curled over your thigh, fingers drumming, and a happy grin on his face — and his eyes on the open road that takes you out of hawkins. the warm wind whips in through the windows and blankets you both in the glow of summer :)

steve ends up finding a nice swimming hole, 20 minutes out of hawkins, that’s part of one big river winding through the countryside. it’s busy, people swarming around the water like ants to honey, but that’s to be expected in the the heat of summer. you nd steve both instinctively steer clear of the crowd, wandering further up stream to see if you can find a sweet lil bay for just the two of you— and you manage to find another sweet lil spot that’s empty besides from you two and steve declares himself king of the beach, planting the picnic basket like a flag.

the heat is infinitely worse out of the car, without any wind to cool you off, and the trickling sounds of the river might be your greatest temptation, besides your boyfriend who’s wasted no time in tugging his shirt up and over his head. the sight of him in just those small swimming shorts, tan hairy thighs on display, might just rival the river for your attention. the water in the river moves about sluggishly, swirling around itself in a syrupy motion, and you know it’s about to be the best cool off of your life- you follow steve’s motions and shed off your shorts and shirt in record speed

steve’s already waiting for you in the shallows, water sloshing around his ankles noisily, and looking back at you he can’t resist the urge to let a little whistle when you drop your shorts — it earns him an endeared eye-roll that only makes his grin a little wider, his hand planting on his hips, “just enjoying the view, don’t mind me” so you take that as your cue to take off, feet splashing in the shallow water and you’re diving in without a moments hesitation— it’s freezing and the sensation of it zings every nerve til you’re unable to do anything but grin and curse when you come up because fuck, it’s cold. it’s fantastically cold.

steve’s still waiting in the shallows, that familiar smitten expression on his face as he watches you gasp at the temperature change and push back your soaked hair from your face, spin to look for him and grin wider when he comes into view. you paddle back in his direction, shaking off the droplets that collect at your chin. your feet find the bottom of the riverbed and you stand, against the push of the river, and hold out your hands for him, trying to coax him in to join you in the deeper parts of the river. because you know, it’s always a bit hard after everything, entering water again — you can still see the twisted up skin that stretches up his sides, faded with time, but a memory etched into his skin all the same.

steve takes a step out towards you, then another, then pauses and his eyes scour the water all around you— his expression already falling away to concern. you can sense his mothering sense rising up and try to quell it before he can voice any anxieties, “eyes on me, stevie” you say, with a wry grin and make grabby hands at him, encouraging him more- you can see the quick inhale he does before he pushes forward, eyes focused on you, your loving grin, your inviting hands, and he doesn’t stop til he can grab them with his own. you’re pushing off the riverbed instantly, legs up and around his waist and shifting so your hands circle around his neck, sweet murmurs about how you’re proud of him til steve is warm enough in the face that he simply has to dunk to both of you, his mischievous grin giving you warning just a second too late

you’re gasping, coughing just a bit when he pulls you both back up and you smack him in the chest— “you bastard! you- i can’t believe you—“ and when he sinks his knees a little deeper, you change your tone quick, clambering closer to him, “don’t you dare, steve, i swear, if you want remain in a loving relationship you will—” “gimme a kiss,” he interrupts and your head snaps from watching the cool water swirl around you to his face and he’s grinning, completely serious, his hands on your waist pulling you closer til he’s nosing along the damp plane of your neck, mumbling into it “kiss or get dunked. that’s the deal, sweetheart,” and then he presses a hot kiss under your jaw and pulls back to wait for you to make a decision. you sigh real heavy like it’s a chore, hanging your head back as you pretend to think about it with a loud “hmmmm” til you’re about sure he’s gonna dunk you again. your thighs tighten and you pull yourself up with your grip around his neck and give him exactly what he asked for :) then u guys eat ur picnic and it’s the perfect lil summertime date :) this is too long my god

[meatmensch]

ok but jamie is such a sentimental sweetheart and i have a feeling he gets new tattoos all the time. what are some of his recent tattoos

[killsaki]

honestly there’s nothing more encouraging to me than when people enjoy my original creations. YES ! i love that i am able to enjoy anime fandom + sexy fics with you guys. i love writing them (obviously. i’ve been doing it three years now) but i just. am so happy people like fuzen. and kiyoshi. and (begrudgingly) katsumi.

[buckyalpine]

40's baby Bucky & baby Reader, Present Bucky x Reader, all the flufff, a lil angst but it just adds to the fluff, promise

Bucky sat under the tree with a very prominent pout on his chubby face, his arms crossed against his chest with his brows pulled together. He wasn't happy. Not one bit. Not after his favorite ball was kicked over a fence by the other neighborhood boys.

"Bucky, do you want to play with me?" You toddled over to your best friend hoping to lift his spirits after seeing him so grumpy only to be met with a huff.

"No! Go play with Stevie instead. Leave me alone!" He frowned, brushing you off and turning his back at you to sulk facing the tree instead.

"But-

"I don't want to play with you" Bucky grumbled. Your bottom lip wobbled, dropping your shoulders as you walked off and sat by yourself under some shade on your porch. You didn't have many friends being the youngest and only little girl on your street; Bucky and Steve being the only two who included you in their games.

"Bucky's mean" You picked up one of your dolls, setting her up beside you while you toyed with a wild flowers, doing your best to keep from sniffling after he shooed you away. You knew he was upset but you wanted to make him feel better!

Of course it didn't take long for Bucky to feel bad, peeking over to see your fallen face sitting all alone on the steps of your house, eyes wet with tears which you were desperately blinking back. He got a bad feeling in his little pudgy belly, knowing he wasn't very nice to you. He knew his ma wouldn't be very happy if she heard how he'd spoken to you, especially after you were just trying to brighten his mood. He got up from his place on the grass, nicking a few flowers from his garden before shuffling over to you only to be met with your now grumpy face, crossing your arms and turning away just like he did.

"I'm sorry y/n" Bucky came and plopped beside you, moving the doll away, while clutching onto a few pink tulips. You didn't respond, still mad at him for being mean to you when you'd done nothing wrong. "C'mon jellybean, pwease?"

His baby blues were shining bright as he gave you his best puppy eyes, hoping you'd forgive him. You felt a giddy at the name he called you, one he'd given you because he thought you were sweet like one. You turned to face him while he gave you a shy little smile, placing the flowers onto your lap.

"I brought you flowers" He stated proudly, happy at the giggle you let out, setting them aside before tugging at his hand to run off and play.

-

"Y'promise you'll come back?" your eyes were wet with tears again although you were now 20 years older and the chubby boy you grew up with had grown into a very handsome soldier. He stood before you in his clean and pressed uniform, his face shaven, hair neatly cropped.

"Of course doll" He whispered affectionately, letting his thumbs swipe across your cheeks, kissing away the tears that fell. "I'll always come back to you jellybean"

"You better" You sniffled, standing on your toes to chase more of his lips as he pressed them to yours, his hands wrapping around your waist, picking you up with ease.

"M'gonna come right back to you, safe n'sound" He held you for as long as he could, rocking you close to his chest while you fought back a sob, giving him a brave smile instead.

"I love you Jamie"

"I love you jellybean"

That was the last time you saw him.

-

"This is a bad idea"

"When have I ever had a bad idea" Tony scoffed, continuing to tinker with his quantum portal while Bruce looked over numbers.

"It's not stable enough Tony, if we send someone through this, they could get stuck in an alternate timeline or we could end up changing the future-

"Yea, yea, stop worrying, hand me that spanner"

Bruce sighed, handing over the tool while contemplating on the safest way to test the machine. It wasn't ready to handle anyone actually travelling through time but at the very least they could potentially open portals to the past.

"We gotta put in a location to see if this works-how about-" Tony contemplated on a location, his eyes growing wide with excitement when he spotted Steve's diary that he'd left behind in the lab, "Let's see if Captain has any interesting places from the 40's"

"Why wouldn't you just see if we could get to the compound garden" Bruce groaned while Tony flipped through the pages, typing in an address that had been scribbled in. It was from a list of places Steve wanted to visit again from when he was a child, the address of the person listed under friends. There was only one other person listed there other than Bucky.

"Alright, call the others, let's see if this baby works"

"You're going to get us all killed" Bruce shook his head while calling for everyone to come to the lab. By now everyone was used to Tony's antics; the only one who was genuinely giddy with excitement was surprisingly Bucky. One thing he'd always loved was science; even his stoic expression couldn't hide the twinkle in his eye every time he got to see another Stark experiment.

"Glad you all made it. Now, thanks to Cap, we're going to see if we can open a portal that travels back to the 1940's. I suggest you all stand back since I haven't actually tested this before"

"Why are you like this" Nat snorted while Tony waved her off, pushing a few more buttons before hitting start. Bucky watched from the safe sidelines of the lab as the machine began to vibrate, a low buzz growing louder until a portal roared to life that lead to the inside of someone's home. Bucky and Steve were both stunned from shock seeing a flash of a very familiar living room for no longer than a second before the whole thing closed with a bang and a large puff of smoke in its place.

"Well done Mr. Playboy billionaire dumbass" Sam wheezed while the team was left coughing, the room cloudy as the loud buzz began to dull. "What was the location you even put in-

Sam stopped talking midway when he heard another voice coughing followed by mumbling coming from the place where the portal closed. The smoke hadn't yet dissipated but the shadow of a person was slowly becoming visible. Everyone froze when they realized there was someone on the platform, wondering who could've been sucked through.

"Bruce, turn on the fan-" Bruce hit the lab fan which pulled helped with the smoke revealing a young woman in a flower printed dress. An apron was still tied around her waist, flour streaked across her cheeks, a rolling pin still in her hand. "What the-

"JAMES BUCHANAN BARNES"

Bucky thought he was going to collapse as soon as he saw who was on the platform, his heart fluttering madly in his chest. He couldn't control the blush that crept up on his cheeks, butterflies bursting in his tummy, just as they did all those years ago. The young woman stormed up to the soldier, face full of fury as her palm smacked his cheek (Not hard enough to actually hurt him of course).

"HOW DARE YOU"

Everyone else in the lab silently congregated to one side watching curiously though Steve was still utterly frozen seeing-

"Y-y/n? Doll?"

"Don't you doll me" you whacked his arm with your rolling pin, huffing when it clanged back after hitting metal. That didn't seem to faze you as you switched and hit the other arm instead, making Bucky yelp. "You lied!"

You dropped your makeshift weapon to the floor, moving your hands to your hips instead, looking up and down at the man you loved with your entire heart, the man who you mourned for years after you were told he was dead. He looked much different from when you'd last seen him, the most obvious difference being an entirely new arm. His cheeks were scruffy and it was clear some form of time travel had taken place but none of that mattered. None of that mattered when the love of your life was standing right there, alive and well.

"Oh baby, no-

"Absolutely not Barnes" you huffed at the pet name he gave you, crossing your arms over your chest and Bucky thought he'd melt into an absolute puddle at the sight. He was thrown back to when you were both no more than 4 years old, with a cute little frown on your face whenever you'd get upset. "You left! I thought you-I thought you died!"

The sound of your voice cracking broke Bucky's heart, his hands itching to wrap you up and pull you close to his chest the way you loved. He could see your eyes twinkle with tears threatening to spill out while you rapidly tried to blink them away. You chewed on your bottom lip to keep from wobbling and it only made Bucky yearn to hold you and never let go.

"Sweetheart please, I didn't mean to leave you doll, I promise" He stepped closer to you, hesitantly reaching out to take your hand in his, not feeling the slightest bit conscious about his metal arm. The coolness of his hand calmed your racing heart while you sniffled, still refusing to meet his eyes as you stared down at your feet instead.

The day you'd been told he'd never come back had been the worst day of your life. You wept for months on end, losing the man you were waiting to marry. The only person you'd been in love with since you were 4 years old.

Seeing you standing there before him stirred feelings in Bucky h never thought he'd feel again. Having a home. A beautiful wife. Little chubby babies. All with his dream girl he'd loved all his life. There wasn't a day that had gone by where he didn't think about her. He didn't think he'd ever get the chance again but here you were, dusted in flour like you always were whenever you were in the kitchen, in a pretty dress he loved so much, fighting your cries after desperately missing him. He softly cupped your cheeks, swiping away at your tears, his forehead coming down to softly rest against yours. He smiled through watery eyes at your stubborn nature, still keeping your arms crossed while his nose bumped with yours.

"Jellybean" Bucky whispered, your heart melting at the name, swallowing the lump in your throat, "Please? I-I'll- I'll bring you flowers" He said with a shaky voice, nearly toppling over when you flung yourself into his arms. He caught you, squeezing you right back and lifting you off the floor to cradle you nice and tight before pulling back to smash his lips against yours. The collective sniffles and whistles from the team were drowned out by your soft giggles and warm lips.

"I missed you so much" you buried your face into the crook of his neck, inhaling the familiar scent of him, the one that comforted yo the most.

"You have no idea how much I missed you jellybean, never letting you go again"

"Terminator, you wanna introduce us?" Tony was the first to speak up, not so subtly wiping away at his eyes while Bucky continued to look at you with heard eyes, introducing you to everyone. You could only wrap your head around so much at a time but nothing truly mattered now that you were back with your soldier.

And of course your other best friend.

"Steve" You giggled as Steve lifted you up with ease into a tight hug, grinning at his two friends finally getting the life they deserved together.

Seriously imagine how sickeningly cute these two would be. Bucky is so excited to teach you all about the future. He gets to show you how to use all the new technology around the compound. He's so naughty about it too, teasingly telling you he'd be happy to help you in the shower if there's any questions you has about water temperature.

He doesn't waste any time with asking to marry you. Its everything you've ever dreamed of and more considering Tony took the bill and ran. Bucky can't put into words how happy he is finally getting the life he thought was ripped from his hands.

On your wedding night, Bucky spends hours loving on you like there's no tomorrow which is why a few months later, your belly is swollen with your first baby. Bucky is thankful for the future because as excited as he is to start a family, he's scared shitless something could happen to his jellybean.

"Bucky, I'm fine-

"Absolutely not, why are you up Jellybean, go sit down, I'll bring breakfast to you"

"I can still walk y'know-

"Nope. You stay right there, don't move mama, just rest"

When you do have to move around, he's there holding your baby bump, feeling giddy over becoming a dad. He can't wait to meet his little baby that he's made with his dream girl.

After his son is born, he waits for your body to heal but no ones surprised to see you with a new bump not too long after.

Two baby boys are no match for all the avengers but they all happily share their god father and god mother duties.

Your third is a little girl and she's going to be spoiled by everyone.

Somewhere along the way, you get a white fluffy cat.

Bucky's life has never been better.

[taintedcigs]

— cowboy hat rule.

pairing: cowboy!steve harrington x fem!reader

warnings: smut, p in v, MINORS DNI!!!!, pet names, praising, kinda degrading but not really, a lil argument, dom!steve, rivals to fcking, swearing, good old bj for our good boy stevie! reader has a nickname 'sunshine' bc i didn't wanna do y/n sorry:(

summary: helping out mr. harrington in his ranch was supposed to be fun, but steve harrington was an asshole. an absolute pain in your ass that teased you, and you gave him the same energy back, always. so when you unknowingly wear his cowboy hat, he decides to teach you what exactly the cowboy hat rule is. (wc: 5k+)

author's note: this is just horny babbling. i have no idea how cowboy lore works so if im wrong pls just close ur eyes i tried to research but i couldnt find shit just pls i just want cowboy steve dick. and ofc no proof-reading bc im lazy as hell. no dividers ugly aesthetic bc of tumblrs f ass not showing my shit in tags SIGH.

also PLSSS LIKE + REBLOG + COMMENT TO SUPPORT ME MWAH ILY

When you told Mr. Harrington you’d be more than happy to help around his Ranch during the summer, you didn’t expect Steve to become a problem, but you were wrong, so fucking wrong. 

A cocky cowboy who’s way too into partying and into his looks and his fluffy hair than you could ever imagine. That’s exactly how you’d describe Steve Harrington. Even though you so badly wanted to believe otherwise, wanted to disregard the rumors and the reputation that came with him. But, he made it so goddamn hard. 

All he fucking did was tease you, complain. Order you around and act like you didn’t know how to do shit. And, you didn’t, but he was supposed to be your guidance, teach you. But all he did was grumble and give you that goddamned smirk. 

Yet, you couldn’t fully hate him, there was a side of him he rarely showed you, one that cared, one that offered you rides—it was more of a mumble each night but you accepted nonetheless, one that ended up at your side whenever an asswipe bothered you at the bar, one that offered you a hand on your back when you were crying, he didn’t ask what happened, didn’t speak, just stood there, letting you spill out your guts. The two of you never spoke about these incidents, ever, because he acted like they didn’t exist, like he couldn’t bear the thought of being nice to you. 

You were so fascinated by him, even though you’d never admit it out loud. He was charismatic, outright funny, and had a heart of gold that you only peered one layer of. 

And fuck it, he was fine, annoyingly good-looking that he was a distraction to be around when you were supposed to be working, him with those sturdy denim jeans that cupped his ass perfectly, wide-brimmed cowboy hat with a creased crown, put perfectly on his head. Even though you’d much rather see his pretty hair falling on his face, run your hands through his smooth layers.

Usually, when it got as hot as it did today, he’d even take off that stupid shirt, feast your eyes with his glimmering chest, all hairy and glistening with sweat, broad shoulders as he ordered everyone around made you gulp. Like he is doing with you, right fucking now. 

“Sunshine, get back to work.” Heat travels to your cheeks quickly, and that stupid nickname rolls off his lips so bitterly, the one he always called you just because you were all nice and smiley—even when he was being an asshole to you, something that grinded his gears, you guessed it was a foreign concept to him, being nice. 

You were quick to shake off the hold he had on you, getting back on your feet as you stood your ground. “I am working! Just needed a second to breathe!” The lies rolled off your lips so simply that you wondered if he caught you staring. When he turned around to leave, you guessed he hadn’t. 

“Asshole.” The insult leaves you before you can register how close Steve still was to you. 

Turning head-spinningly fast. “What did ya say?” He spits, making you gulp physically. 

He looks out of the world stunning when he’s mad, maybe it’s a toxic trait of yours but, fuck, the way his chocolate hues turn unrecognizable, that slight quirk of his brows, and the way his muscles flex in pure anger made you rub your thighs together. 

Jesus Christ. He is getting into your head, and you hate that you think of him this way when he is so mean. 

“Nothing! I’m just saying it’s really hot out today,” you hum, the sun rays hitting your face not making it easier on the heat that flame your cheeks. 

He gives you a snort, all mocking once he takes a step closer, making you feel hotter if that is possible. “Well that’s what happens in the summer, darlin’”

Hand on the wall he tilts his head slightly, all with sass that has you rolling your eyes. “Or did you expect the weather to give Miss Sunshine some sorta special treatment?”

You roll your eyes, an act you always did that makes Steve’s jaw clench. “Oh, come on Steve! It’s really, really, hot, and the sun is all on my face!”

“Boo-hoo, princess,” he mocks, tipping his hat, almost as if to tease you further.

You scoff, getting closer to him. “Easy for you to just stand around in that big hat!” With a narrowed gaze, you cross your arms against your chest, like a brat, another trait that annoyed Steve even further.

Then, you beam again, and Steve knows no matter how much you hate it, Sunshine is absolutely the nickname you deserve, eyes glistening with happiness that it annoyingly even brings a glint to his pretty amber hues. His gaze unintentionally droops down to tour lips, so plushy and soft looking when it curls into that pretty smile that Steve wants to kiss you all over. 

“Oh! Do you mind if I?” You ask all giggly, pointing toward his wide-brimmed hat, hand teasingly standing above his head. 

He scoffs as if you had just asked him the most insulting question ever. “Not a chance,” he spits, now he crosses his arms in front of his chest, eyeing you with a dark glint in his eyes, one you couldn’t decide was full of annoyance or just pure desire. 

“Mhmmm… okay,” you hum, feigning innocence for a second, before snatching it off his head with another hearty giggle.

Oh, what he would do to hear that on a loop, admire the way your lips stretched into the prettiest grin, brows quirked.

“Sunshine!” He chides, much rougher than he intends to, but you don’t pay attention to him when you place the hat carefully on your head, smoothing your hair.

You shrug, looking up at him with those doe eyes that have him melting, everytime, without fail. “Admit it, looks better on me.” You shrug, expecting him to agree.

Instead, he just offers you a deep sigh of breath, eyes almost widening when he realises what you just did. “Do you even—”

He huffs, hiding the obvious pink shade thats starting to color his cheeks, you really had no idea the hold you had on him, did you? “God, you city girls have no idea about anything, huh?”

Your brows furrow. “What?” 

“Cowboy hat rule?” He asks with a tilt of his head, a low chuckle rumbling in his chest.

A teasing smile curves on your plushy lips as you push for more information. “What’s that?”

“Just give me the hat back,” he insists, attempting to mask the warmth that crept into his tone.

With a shake of your head, your defiance only grows, a glint of mischief dancing in your gaze. “Not until you tell me the rules.” 

“Sunshine,” he warns, voice so grumbly that heat travels all over your body quicker than the sun burning you. 

“Steve?” You hum with a flirty gaze, so teasing that Steve wants to fuck you right then and there, until he teaches you proper manners, until he shows you not to be a total fucking brat and not to roll your eyes at him, until he shows you that you’re his. 

But, of course, he settles on a low grumble of, “You’re annoying.”

“You used to be more creative with the insults, Harrington.” Another teasing remark, and Steve rolls his tongue inside of his mouth. 

With a smirk, he takes another step toward you, when your back hit the walls of the barn, only then you realise, he has you cornered. “You wanna know the cowboy hat rule, princess?” He asks all smugly.

Gaze meaner than he is, chest almost pressed against yours, voice so low that all you can do is slightly nod. 

Your breath gets hitched in your throat when his face is mere inches away from yours, hot breath fanning against your cheeks, skin heating on the impact, that brattiness you wear as a mask quick to slip off when he’s all demanding. “You wear the hat, you ride the cowboy.” His tone is almost a growl, pupils blown wide, making you gulp, physically.

“What?” You blink, unsure of what he’s actually asking. Excitement jumping around in your tummy. 

“You heard me. Wanna take me for a ride, Sunshine?” He is so goddamn close that you are sure he can hear the annoying tumble your heart does at the weight of what his words hold. 

It makes you pause, gaze sticking on his, sometimes slipping away to his soft lips, almost to signal him of something, but all you can do is try to hide the embarrassment that burns your cheeks. 

“Didn’t think so,” he scoffs, backing away just slightly. 

His cowboy hat is too big on your head, tipping low over your eyes, possibly hiding your nervousness as you mutter, “What if I do?”

With a smooth motion, he flips it off from your head, holding it with his palm, away from you. “Get back to work, Sunshine.”

“I’m serious—”

“So am I, those horses ain’t gonna straddle their strap themselves, off. to. work,” he hisses, turning to leave.

You huff, heat still burning off your cheeks, more embarrassed than annoyed, yet you still don’t have it in yourself to let it go, you can’t let him have this. Win this.

Quick to snatch the hat back, “So the hat rule is, wear the cowboy hat, ride the cowboy, huh?” You mumble behind him, your voice failing you, yet you appear to be giggly, and Steve heaves a deep sigh of breath, before fully turning to you.

He halts a bit when he sees you once again, in his hat, tipped low, that stupidly addicting smirk gracing your slightly-open lips, hand on your hips, and all he wants to do is fuck you till you lose that attitude of yours. 

“Stop,” he warns, taking a step closer to you but with a shake of your head you back away, and he sighs, loud and annoyed. 

“Gimme that, sunshine!”

“Nuh-uh.” All teasing and bratty, and grating on Steve’s last nerve. You know this, yet you wanna keep pushing him, further and further, until he snaps, until he can’t take it anymore. You have no reason to do this, you’re supposed to hate him, think of him as an annoying asshole.

But the two of you are finally tethering on that line, the line between purely teasing each other out of spite, to teasing each other out of flirting, you know that, and you don’t wanna take a step back. “Prove it.”

You are all up in his face, and all he can do his roll his eyes, cheeks beetle red, frustration worn on his face. “Knock it off.”

You tut gently, crossing your arms in front of your chest. “Not until you—” Your words are interrupted quickly when he snatches up the hat from your head in annoyance, making you gasp when he discarded it easily.

“Get back to work!” His voice raises, and it makes you take a deep breath.

Shit, did you fuck this up?

“What?” You question, entire body feeling dizzy. He takes a step closer.

“You heard me.”

Another step closer, his breaths come out in short gasps, frustration taking over him. “Get back to fuckin’ work, before I can’t stop myself.”

He is close. Too fucking close, and you can’t help the way your gaze droops down to his soft lips, slightly parted open, downturned from frustration. God, you realize how hot he is when he is angry, once again. “F—from what?”

He hesitates, before licking his lips. This is it. He wants, no, he desperately needs you. Needs to put you to your place. Teach you what happens to bratty girls like you. Show you what exactly the stupid rule is. “From fucking you in this goddamn barn.”

You release the breath you’ve been holding back, feeling small, so small under his gaze. Mouth hanging open, and all you want is him to pin you against the wall, have you screaming out his name. “From making sure I show you how the goddamn cowboy hat rule works.”

Your back is plastered against the wall, his hands are by your side, you are caged beneath him, chest rising in anticipation. “Is that what you want, honey, think you can handle all of that?” He’s so smug, and you don’t know what overtakes you when he’s all in control like this, you wanna obey him, make him happy, proud, so you bite back on your insults.

His smirk is dangerously alluring, and you’re under his spell. 

“Please,” you beg, heat finds your cheeks again, you hate the hold he has on you.

He barks out a chuckle, so mean, yet as equally hot. “Please, what? Speak up,” he spits, rolling his tongue inside of the roof of his mouth, lips wearing a smirk.

“Ruin me,” your voice is small, meek, yet it makes him groan. 

You’re such a good girl for him, and he wants nothing more than to ruin you. Fully. Completely. Ruin you for every other man. 

His head ducks down to your neck, leaving a sloppy kiss before leaning into your ear, his breath hot on your neck, leaving goosebumps in its wake. “Goddamit darlin’, you gonna be the death of me, huh?”

You don’t—you can’t answer, you’re speechless, rubbing your thighs together desperately, seeking some friction, a touch, anything. 

He levels with you again, dangerous gaze on your lips, fingertips brushing against your cheeks teasingly “You know what I always wanted to do, sunshine?” He coarses lowly. 

“W—what?” You ask with a gulp, lips twitching with need. 

He gives you another grin, that asshole. The pad of his thumb slowly caressing your lips now, making you shiver with hunger. “Always wanted to put you to your place, you and that damn smart mouth, always runnin’ it for no good reason. I’d give you a good reason for those pretty lips, huh? Use it the way I wanna use it, fill it the way I wanna feel it,” he grunts like he said the most normal thing, yet you’re already squirming, wanting to open your lips, take his fingers in your mouth and suck on them, show him how much of a good girl you can be for him.

He has you on such a hold already, and you can’t complain. For someone who seemed to be annoyed—hell, even hated him a few minutes ago, you feel crazy, batshit insane, all you want is him.  

His fingertips play with your lips all teasingly, pupils blown wide, the other hand caresses your hair so possessively that you melt into his touch. “You gonna be good for me sweet thing?”

He doesn’t have to ask you twice. “Y—yes, sir.”

Sir. 

Godfuckingdammit. You don’t know the hold you have on him, do you?

He bites back on the moan that rumbles in his throat, instead settling on a, “Good girl.” Your puppy dog eyes glint at the praise, and he makes a mental note of it. . 

“Get on your knees f’me, darlin’,” he grumbles, and you’re quick to obey, not minding the uncomfortable feeling of the wooden floors scraping your knees, or the fact that anyone might’ve walked in, the door was locked, and there was probably no one around yet Mr. Harrington might’ve returned to the ranch at any moment. But he made you feel safe, somehow. 

You look up at him with those doe-eyes again, making him suck in a breath before he unbuttons his jeans and pushes them off his hips, boxers so tight around his hard cock that he grunts involuntarily.  

Your eyes go wide the second his erection springs free, almost hitting the tip of your nose, red, angry and leaking with pre-cum, he lets out a chuckle at your expression before grabbing the base of his cock. 

Same eyes, looking up at him all hungrily, Steve feels the way blood rushes quickly to his cock, making him harder if that's even possible, with a groan he runs the leaking tip across your lips. “Open up.”

Your hand replaces his quickly, and he runs his fingers through several strands of your hair, teaching you how exactly he wants you. 

You open your mouth wide, just like he likes it, tongue giving his slit kitten licks, moaning at the taste of his salty pre-cum, wrapping your plushy lips around his thick head, and sucking the life out of him, determined, and feigning innocence with the soft gaze you held. 

Head thrown back, heavy boots planted on the harsh ground, he lets out a low groan, stroking your hair all softly. “Look at you s’pretty like this for me.”

His hand wraps tighter around your hair, pushing you onto him, making sure you gag a little and that only spurs you on, making you whine around his cock, the sound reverberating through his chest. “Cat got your tongue, darlin’?” He chuckles all meanly. 

“God, do you have any idea how many times I wanted to shut up that bratty mouth like this?” He asks with grunts leaving his open mouth, hand working harshly around your head, mouth feeling like heaven the more you bob around his thick length, struggling to take all of him. 

“Those pretty lips are—mmpf, shit—better stuffed with my cock than being a spoiled lil’ city girl runnin’ her mouth, ain’t that right, baby?” You nod meekly, angelic eyes seeking for his validation before you flatten your tongue around the sensitive part of his tip, struggling to take all of him in your mouth. Earning guttural moans, eyes squeezed shut as he feels your soft lips wrapped around him again.

“Fuck, sweet thing.” You can feel his filthy grunts straight in your core, all low and lewd that you almost moan around him again, he puts one hand on the wall, helping himself to better move in and out of your throat. 

He knows if you keep this up, he’ll cum right and there, and fuck, he needs that. But he needs to be inside of you more. 

You keep up your stroking, now adjusting yourself properly to start licking and sucking on his balls. “Sunshine, you need to s—stop,” the words barely leave his lips, he so doesn’t want you to stop. But, he needs to cum inside of you. 

Yet, you don’t listen to him as your movement speeds up, determined to feel his load warming your throat, make him proud, and your mouth bobs harder around his length, making him growl at you harshly. “Sunshine,” he warns, pulling you by your hair. 

You’re quick to take a deep breath of air once he pulls you off, looking up at him with the perfect innocent eyes, your lips wearing the prettiest pout. “Was that not good for you, Stevie?” 

Stevie. That nickname makes his head spin faster, all he wants to do is fuck you against those stupid rustic walls, have you screaming out for him, the whole ranch filled with your filthy noises, no one was around anyway.

“You kiddin’, sweetheart?” He gives you a chuckle, wrapping his hands around your jaw, pulling you off the floor. 

“You were fuckin’ amazing,” he hums, leaning down to kiss you, tasing the salty semen on your tongue. 

His hands are quick to travel along to your waist, fingertips finding their way onto your panties rather quickly, earning a gasp out of you. “Need to be in here first, honey.”

You nod, so quickly that you can feel him grinning into the kiss, his hands are everywhere, yours are more or less the same, quick to get rid of his top, to feel his toned chest in your soft hands, your top is sprawled right next to his, revealing your pink and gold bra at him, breasts peeking out just enough to have him groan, big hands quick to get rid of them. 

He has you caged against the amber walls, back hitting the rough material, making you hiss. Your skin heats at the impact, it’s filthy, lewd, and so public, but none of you even care enough to break the kiss. He settles between your thighs, his pants drooped to his ankles, hands rubbing across your skin, leaving goosebumps in its wake.

The sight of you so easily submitting to him, makes his cock grow harder than he thought was possible, looking so ethereal that Steve forgets all about everything else. “Sunshine,” he breathes, hands fiddling with the hem of your panties. 

“Mhmm,” is all you can muster, legs slightly open for him, and he almost feels possessive over you, it’s entirely stupid, but he looks so fucking alluring with those dark chestnut eyes, layered hair a mess, and cock weeping entirely with the thought of you. 

His thumb runs over the seam of your pussy, just a glimpse of how his fingers are going to ruin you, and you pulse and clench against him already. Wet. Drenched. And all ready to take him. “You’re soaked,” he groans.

Leaning further into your ear, “is that all for me, honey?” he rasps, desperate, needing your confirmation. 

Heat grows in your cheeks faster than a scorching day in July, and he grins, again, all cocky and proud. “Yes,” you admit meekly, and Steve’s quick to kiss your worries away. 

“God, you’re so fuckin’ pretty like this,” he growls, swirling your wetness up and around your slit, almost toying with you, having you desperately mewl for him. 

He can’t put his finger on it, what it is that draws him this much into you, but he’s hooked, so goddamn obsessed that he feels like an idiot, for being this much of an asshole, for acting like a grade school boy who’s pulling the pigtails of his crush. Like a stupid cliche. 

“Stevie.” That nickname, again. Godfuckingdammit, Steve thinks. You have him so wrapped around your finger, it’s like a prayer, and he’s sure you’re not aware of it. And it drives him even crazier. “Please.”

“Talk to me.” His voice is low, lips now nipping at your neck, suckling, giving you all the marks you need. 

“I need you,” you hum, eyes squeezed shut, desperate. His finger discard your panties and slide easily inside of you, your back is fully dipped into the well-worn walls with how good he feels, his thick fingers making their way in and out of your soppy cunt, whines leave your lips faster than you can comprehend. 

“Ruin me, Steve, fully, completely.” You don’t know how those words leave past your lush lips, but your thighs ache with need, cunt throbbing for him and him only. 

His eyes widen quickly, pure hunger quick to fill his veins, mouth hanging open, curses leaving his lips at how forward you are being. “Show me the cowboy hat rule, sir.” 

Steve all but groans, mouth harshly on yours again, chests pressed together and you can feel how hard he truly is, rock stiff, and aching to be inside of you. The sheer size of how he feels against your thighs almost makes your eyes bulge again. 

His fingers stop moving in and out of you, before you can whine, he spins you around so fast that you gasp loudly, hands immediately plastered on the wall, pleasure and excitement fills your tummy, but the fact that he’s seeing you all vulnerable like this is embarrassing enough that you try to close your legs. 

He’s quick to stop you with a grin, rough hands landing on the back of your thighs, spreading them open while tutting you. “Nuh-uh. Don’t get all shy now, princess. Spread them open f’me.” You spread them a little, cunt throbbing with how close his fingers are. 

He groans again once he fully gets a view of you like this, face down, ass up, your pussy slicked with your juices, at his mercy. “‘M gonna ruin you, honey, don’t you worry.” A dark chuckle barks out from his chest, sending chills down your spine, almost making you whine. 

Fuck. 

His hands are rough when he has you by your waist, bruising almost. Lining his cock in front of your slick core, he swipes the head of his reddened tip inside of you with one forceful thrust. Your plushy lips open slightly, stealing your breath away as you try to adjust to his size.

Shit, shit, shit, he feels even better than you fucking expected.

His cock splits you open, filling every goddamn inch of you. You don’t know how many times you thought this, but, shit, he’s as big as the gossip in this small town says he is. 

His thrusts are slow, grunts so loud and heavenly that it spurs you on more and more. His weight on you, the bruising hold. You feel him everywhere. On your back, hips, and fucking inside of you.

“F-fucking, fuck!” he growls, leaving nibbles all over your shoulder and back, even with the fact that this was Steve, and he was rough and filthy, it was wildly intimate, so wildly intimate that you could feel your heart pounding inside of your chest. 

“How are you this fuckin’ tight, s-sweetheart?” One of his hands travel up to your neck, roughly holding you down, hips slamming into you with such force that you cry out.

He watches the way his girthy cock disappears in and out of you, wetting himself with your juices, filling every inch of you. “Doin’ s’good for me, princess.” His praises are heavenly, making your chest swell with pride.

He moves inside of your soppy cunt with short thrusts. Completely bottomed out, thrusting against the same sensitive spot every time as his balls, heavy with cum grind against your clit, with each movement, making you cry out his name, babbles leaving your mouth. “Yeah, you like this don’t ya? Want me to ruin this slutty pussy, huh? Ruin it for every other men?”

You nod all dumbly, yet, it isn’t enough for him. He wants to hear you, have you scream it out. “Say it, sweet thing, fuckin’ say it,” he groans, coarse voice making tingles appear everywhere on your skin. 

“I-I love it, Stevie, want you to ruin me for everyone else, mmpf,” you moan all fucked out, eyes rolled all the way back to your head, hips desperately grinding against him for some more friction. 

He picks up his pace, fucking into you with reckless abandon.“F-fuck doll, won’t last if you keep runnin’ that dirty mouth.” 

But his words just encourage you to keep going, gasps coming out in short breaths as you manage to drive him crazier. “All yours, sir, all yours.” 

He grunts at that, one of his arms snaking around and under your hips to find a better angle, lifting you up so that he can fuck his cock deeper into you, make you feel how fucking big he really is. “That’s right, baby, it’s all fuckin’ mine.”

Hot tears spill down your cheeks, entire body burning with it. The slick sounds of his hips driving into you, your moans, his low groans are all that fill the room. So fucking filthy, and you can feel yourself clenching around him. 

It’s all too much; his hands everywhere, the lewd noises he makes, how deep his girthy cock is bottomed out inside of you, making you feel every ridge. It’s fucking perfect, and you desperately need to cum. 

And of fucking course, Steve can feel your pussy gripping him, so tight that he knows he’s gonna cum right after you do. “Gonna cum f’me, huh? Such a good girl,” he praises, again, knowing the effect it has on you and all you can do is gasp and weakly nod. 

One of his thumbs quickly finds your clit, making your pussy throb around him in pure ecstasy, all the overstimulation enough to have you crying like a bitch in heat. “Give it to me, angel,” he murmurs, pressing open-mouthed kisses everywhere on your skin.   

His movements pick up, padded thumb rubbing circles around your clit, the other hand landing on your nipples, twisting them while pumping into you, it’s all too much that it makes you sob and beg for him. 

“Cream my cock, let me ruin you completely, darlin’” It’s all the confirmation you need as your orgasm builds and washes through you, body exploding with pleasure, spreading through your skin as you scream out his name. 

Your pussy squeezes and pulses around his cock, and he fucking knows, he won’t last, not in the slightest. “S-shit, sweet thing, gonna make me cum with all those filthy noises.” 

“Want that, honey, hmm? Wanna be filled with my cum? Show everybody in this town who owns ya? Owns this tight lil’ cunt?” He feels it, that pure hunger for you over taking him, coarse voice, dark eyes, like a man possessed. His fingers dig further into your skin as he desperately chases his orgasm, enjoying the sloppy sounds your pussy makes as he drives into you.

“P-please, Stevie, n-need your cum,” you weakly hum. And it fucking breaks him. Hips losing all rhythm when he spills his warm load into you, twitching inside of you once he pumps you full of his cum. 

“Jesus fucking Christ, Sunshine,” he breathes, collapsing on your back, both of you trying to come down from the high. He slips free of you slowly, his cum dripping down your thighs, making him grin proudly. 

“S-steve,” you weakly murmur, collapsing in his arms. He holds you down, slight kisses left on your back, delicate in a way you have never seen him before. Yet, the two of you don’t mention it, “let me take you home,” he mutters, a gentle hold on you that makes you feel warm.

“N-no.”

“No?” Intrigued, his breath gets caught in his throat, the look you give him is so sultry that the blood rushes to his cock in an instant again. Fucking fuck, what have you done to him.

“We still haven’t followed the rules,” you purr sweetly, causing him to raise his brows in excitement, tempting him further and further. 

“The rule was wear the hat, ride the cowboy, wasn’t it?” You question with a slight grin, eyes lulled, still fucked out. 

Your fingertips gently grazed against his chest, hairy and slicked with sweat, his sudden dominance fading when you were so quick to switch from begging to cum underneath him to gaining that flirty, giddy personality again. Already leaving him a mess. “Y-yeah,” he murmured, watching you hungrily, his cock already weeping again. 

“Then, sit down and lemme take care of you, cowboy,” you ordered again, shuddering breaths leaving him in an instant.   

Now you were going to ruin him.

Fully.

Completely.

And Steve couldn’t be more infatuated. You were truly his demise.   

[stvharrngton]

don’t leave me hangin’ on the telephone

a/n: just a lil somethin somethin i wrote inspired by a certain blondie song :^)

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

word count: 2.5k

warnings: smut, 18+ minors dni, phone sex, masturbation (both f and m), dirty talk, friends to lovers sorta, hint of perv!steve if you squint

taglist: @inkluvs @dukesmebby @sweetbabygirlsworld @kennedy-brooke @gvf23 @nix-rose

Your back hit your bed with a quiet thud, your clothes still stuck to your body, one shoe off, one shoe on. The bottle of wine, or two, you shared with Nancy sounded like a great idea at the time but now the room was spinning and your skin was buzzing, it seemed less so.

Groaning, you managed to get your other shoe off, downing half the glass of water you’d left on your nightstand. You glanced at the red numbers on your alarm clock, 12:02 they read, and then at the phone on the table.

Wine always had you like this. A little needy, a little desperate. Hot under the collar and skin clammy, usually fixed with a cold shower or a hand shoved down your panties.

You took your bottom lip between your teeth, toying with the flesh as the scenario you imagined swirled around your brain. He’d been on your mind all night, in fact, he was never off your mind. A crush on your best friend that he was totally oblivious to.

“Fuck it,” you sighed, picking up the phone and dialling the number you had memorised long ago. It rang out a couple times, a part of you hoped that he wouldn’t pick up but another part of you hoped he really fucking did.

“Hello?”

Your heart was in your throat as the person on the end of the line answered, their voice gravelly and rough as if they’d just woken up. 

“Hi, Stevie,” you whispered as innocently as you could. Fingers curling around the phone cord as you try your best to remain calm.

“What time is it, is everything okay?” your heart swooned at the quick change of tone in his voice, the panic evident. Steve knew you were hanging out with Nancy tonight and there would be alcohol involved, he just hoped you hadn’t gotten yourself into any trouble.

“A little after midnight,” you replied, your fingers toying with the strap on your top, thighs squeezing together at the mere sound of Steve’s voice on the other end, “and I’m okay, just wanted to hear your voice s’all.”

Ouch, subtlety was never your thing when tipsy. You could only imagine the look on Steve’s face in the dark of his bedroom, hair still full of sleep, lips soft and pink, a smirk tugging at his lips.

“Oh yeah? And why’s that?” You could hear the cockyness clear in his voice, the sound making you gnaw on your bottom lip out of arousal.

“No reason.” You lied. There was a reason, a reason that you hoped Steve would be able to pick up on so you wouldn’t have to utter the words yourself. Something told you that you were both on the same page.

Steve thought he was dreaming when he answered the phone and you were on the other line, voice sweet like saccharine. Truth be told you were all Steve thought about. His gaze follows you whenever you aren't looking, thoughts circling his mind about how his life would be ten times better if you were his girl. Innocence interrupted by impure dreams of how good you would look bouncing on his cock whenever you would wear that skimpy red two piece by his pool, or that skirt was a little too short.

“I’ll just hang up then if you won’t tell me, sweetheart.” Steve teased.

“No!” you cried, internally closing in on yourself at how desperate you sounded, “No, please don’t go.” Your fingers were now teasing the waistband of your shorts, your need to keep Steve on the line ever present.

Steve chuckled on the other end, hushing you as you got yourself worked up. “Fine, fine,” he started, “but you gotta give me something here, love.”

You groaned, cursing as you hoped he wouldn’t actually make you say it. “Just keep talking, please?” you asked, fluttering your lashes wishing he could see, “I just need to–” you cut yourself off, preserving your dignity.

Steve played along happily, engaging in small talk until he could hear the quiet breaths and subtle groans coming from the end of the line, “Have I ever told you how pretty you are?” he blurted out.

You could only respond with a small moan, your fingers now situated in your panties, your index finger teasing your throbbing clit. Your eyes shot open as soon as the noise left your mouth, heat rising to your cheeks in total embarrassment.

“Fuck,” Steve whispered under his breath, “are you touching yourself, pretty girl?” he cooed, his attention fully on the sounds you were making on the other end of the line.

“No, I–” your voice quivered, “you think I’m pretty?” you asked innocently, Steve’s words suddenly registering in your foggy brain.

Steve chuckled, running a hand through his messy bed hair, “I do, yeah,” you could hear his breath become a little heavier, a little more shaky, “but I’d think you were a whole lot prettier if your hand was in those panties.”

Your breath hitched in your throat at his words, your clit throbbing beneath your fingers. All you could hear was your racing heart beat, all the blood rushing to the tips of your ears. Steve’s voice rang in your ears when he spoke up again.

“You still there, babe?” He asked, minor concern mixed with self assuredness lacing his voice.

“I’m still here, Stevie,” you nodded even though he couldn’t see you.

“Good girl,” he cooed, “gonna tell me what you’ve been thinkin’ about?” he asked, his own palm running down his chest now, fingers sitting pretty at the waistband of his boxers.

You considered not answering, considered telling him some lie that somehow ended up with your fingers playing with your pussy to the sound of Steve’s voice, but fuck it, you were too far gone.

“Y-you.” Your voice was shaky, full of adrenaline and wracked with nerves. You squeezed your eyes shut as you waited for his response, your thighs clenching as your clit throbbed in anticipation.

“Yeah?” he questioned, “What about me?” 

You sighed in response, teeth gnawing on your bottom lip. You cursed Steve at the boldness of his question and you knew he would pull the answer from you one way or another. On the other hand your head was too fuzzy and all you could think about was the tension in your lower stomach and Steve.

“Your fingers.” you breathed, fingers now circling your clit once more.

“Oh yeah?” Steve chuckled, “What about my fingers, pretty girl?”

The pet name made you swoon and your heart beat faster, “How good they’d feel in my pussy,” you whispered down the phone. You were now long past caring about any feelings of embarrassment or preserving any dignity.

You heard Steve mumble out a curse on the other end of the line before he spoke again, “Mm, I bet they would. Why don’t you take your fingers and pretend they’re mine for a minute, hm?”

“Fuck,” you whined as your fingers moved further south, circling your entrance before you plunged a single finger into your cunt. You breathed a sigh of relief at the feeling, a sound that went straight to Steve’s cock.

The boy had his fingers wrapped around his length now, softly tugging as his lips parted, praying to God that this was real and wasn’t some sort of cruel dream. He had the girl of his dreams moaning and whimpering on the end of the phone line, Steve swore he had died and gone to Heaven.

“Does that feel good, baby?” He cooed, his voice sticky sweet and a sexy kind of patronising.

“Y-yes,” you moaned, trying your best to curl your finger like you imagined Steve would, “but it would feel better if it was the real thing.” 

“I’m sure it would, honey,” you heard Steve mumble, before hearing the sound of him clearly spitting into the palm of his hand rang loud in your ear, the sound going straight to your core, your arousal coating your fingers and leaking down onto the sheets, “and I’ll give you the real thing, real soon, I promise, but can you do one thing for me?”

Your fingers slowed as your eyebrows pinched together before you stuttered out, “Yes, Steve, I’ll do anything.”

Steve wished you could see the smirk on his face at your response, his fingers still wrapped firmly around his aching cock as his spoke, “Wanna grab that flesh coloured toy I know you keep in your bottom drawer and fuck yourself with it f’me?”

You gasped at his request, your movements all but stopping in their tracks. You wracked your brain as to how he would know what you kept in that drawer but you were all but stumped. The silence on your end of the line had Steve wondering if he’d crossed a line and taken it too far but he couldn’t help himself.

Truth is, he’d seen the silicone length, complete with veins, tucked away when you’d left the drawer open accidentally when you’d excused yourself to the bathroom a month or so ago. And Steve found it simply impossible to get the image of you filling yourself up with the toy out of his mind.

“Is that okay?” Steve asked, bottom lip held firmly between his teeth now. Heat rising to his cheeks at the thought of being rejected. He could hear you moving and rustling at the other end, the anticipation making the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. His heart was racing, his hands growing clammy. Saliva thick in his mouth as his stomach churned with nerves.

You settled back against your plump pillows with the dildo in hand, holding the phone to your ear once more. You swallowed the lump in your throat as you stared at the toy, “I have it.” you squeaked out, feeling yourself get wetter by the second.

“Oh, that’s a good girl,” Steve purred, his fist beginning to pump at his cock once more, “now can you suck on it a little? Get it nice and wet f’me, baby.”

You mumbled a little mhm down the phone and Steve could only imagine what you looked like with, could only dream about what you would like with his own cock in your mouth, bright eyes blinking up at him and spit dripping down your chin. Fuck, what Steve wouldn’t give to see that.

You whined down the receiver as your hand was preoccupied, leaving you to only be able to squeeze your thighs together. The sound of you sucking and slurping on the silicone cock made Steve impossibly harder, his cock now aching and throbbing, the tip angry and leaking precum.

Steve’s jaw went slack at the sound of the dildo hitting the back of your throat, gagging on the toy, a string of spit still attached to the thing as you pulled it from your mouth. You breathed heavy down the line as you regained your composure.

“Christ,” Steve groaned, his stomach tensing as he squeezing his eyes shut, “why don’t you stretch out that little hole for me?”

You gulped at his words, teasing yourself with the toy like you usually did. Letting the tip of the dildo brush over your clit a couple times before you pushed the head into your entrance, wincing at the sweet little stretch it created. You moaned loudly once you sunk the toy a quarter of the way in, moving it in and out slowly.

“That’s it, baby,” Steve cooed, “can you go a little faster for me? Wanna hear how wet that pretty little pussy is.” 

“Fuck, Steve,” you moaned before obeying his wishes, speeding up your movements, fucking the dildo in and out of your cunt faster now. In a deliberate attempt to tease the boy, get him real riled up, you pulled on the phone, stretching the cord until the receiver was closer to the apex of your thighs.

The loud sound of the wet slap of your pussy as you fucked yourself with the toy boomed over the line and Steve reacted as expected. Hand tugging on his cock faster now, his feet firmly planted on his mattress as he bucked his hips up into his hand, his breath getting heavier and his moans getting louder.

You brought the phone back to your ear so you could moan out the boy’s name, “Oh, Steve,” you whimpered, feeling the coil in your stomach tighten.

“You’re doing so well, honey, fuck–” Steve groaned, “taking that cock so well, huh? Can’t wait to see you take the real thing, shit, bet that pussy’s just the sweetest little thing, isn’t she?”

“Yeah, yeah, Stevie,” you whined, bucking your hips to match the movements of the toy, “wish you were here. Need your cock so bad.”

Steve wasn’t even here and you were already so fucked out, so close to your orgasm, one you knew was going to wipe you out. The sound of his strained voice over the line, his unruly and raspy moans were driving you insane. 

“Don’t worry pretty girl,” he cooed, “you’ll get it real soon, I’ll fuck you real good, nice and deep. I bet that’s how you like it, hm?” 

Once Steve opened his mouth the words wouldn’t stop. There was no going back now, no hiding any feelings, no sparing himself of any embarrassment. The poor boy was drunk on you, drunk on the sweet little whines and whimpers that found their way down the phone receiver. 

“It is, yes, fuck, it is,” you cried, “I need to cum, Steve, please?” You dropped your grip on the toy, your fingers resuming their circles on your clit, your movements becoming faster, “Oh, please can I cum?”

“Fucking hell,” Steve groaned, his own orgasm around the corner, “yeah, go on baby, cum for me.” 

The boy’s words pushed you over the edge, your legs shaking as you writhed on the bed. Your pussy fluttered as you came, moaning Steve’s name down the receiver like a song, the sweetest melody that Steve had ever heard. 

“That’s my good girl, does that feel good?” Steve’s palm was slick with his own spit as it was wrapped tightly around his cock, pumping his fist harder and faster. Steve moaned loudly as you rode out your high, his own climax a stroke of his cock away.

“Fuck, baby,” he whined, toes curling into the sheets as he came, painting his stomach with ropes of hot cum. Babbling words of praise and incoherent moans into the phone, followed by heavy breaths.

The line went quiet for a beat, nothing to be heard but the both of you catching your breaths and regaining your composure. Your head became clear now, no longer tipsy, no longer desperate, suddenly realising what had just happened. You felt the heat rise to your cheeks as you went to speak, before Steve cut you off.

“I think I owe you a real date after that,” he chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck, “pick you up at 7?”

[atinylittlepain]

Apothecary - A Joel Miller Story

joel miller x witchy!reader

Series masterlist

joel becomes curious about the woman running the medicine shop in Jackson, and the strange rumors swirling around her.

warnings | 18+ angst, fluff, spooky ooky stuff

a/n | this was born out of me getting high and rewatching practical magic. i intend to make this a lil universe in and of itself bc i love the idea :)

.............................

Joel stops outside the storefront down the main drag of Jackson. Old license plates have been cut up to create a hodge-podged sign hanging over the door. Apothecary. When he enters, wind chimes tinkling above the door, he thinks that it looks more like a greenhouse than a medicine shop, potted plants clearly tended to with care all over the place. 

“Hello?” Though the sign says the store is open, he doesn’t see anyone around, sidling up to the checkout counter and eyeing the collection of rocks lined up next to the old, rusted-out cash register. He doesn’t have long to muse to himself about how strange the shop is when something brushes quick against his legs all of a sudden, making him let out a hard curse as he whips around in time to see a sleek black cat padding toward the back of the store.

“Sorry about her, Stevie thinks she owns the place.” He’s startled again by a voice, nearly jumping out of his boots when he turns around to find a woman has appeared behind the counter. She’s certainly a sight, old bracelets trailing up both her wrists, and dangling earrings that look to be made out of scraps of stained glass. She’s pretty, if not a little wild looking. He has to clear his throat before speaking.

“Um, I’m sorry. The sign said you’re open.” She smiles, tilting her head slightly as she looks at him.

“Oh, we are! I was just working in the back. What can I help you with?” 

“Maria sent me? She said you’d be able to help– my kid’s got a pretty bad case of poison ivy and, um, yeah. I’m Joel– by the way.” Her smile broadens, warm and bright as she steps out from behind the counter, Joel stuttering into motion as she nods for him to follow her.

“I know who you are, Joel. Everyone can’t stop talking about the Jackson newcomers– welcome– by the way.” He’s a little distracted from listening to her words by the backroom she leads him into, lined with shelves stacked with glass jars full of all sorts of dried plants and thick books. There’s a wide gas range in the back of the room, large bubbling pots on most of the hobs. She glances at him over her shoulder as she flits by to stir the simmering pots.

“This used to be a bakery, way before, if you can believe it. I thought Maria was crazy when she offered me the space. But we’ve made it work.” His brow furrows.

“We?” Just then, that damn cat brushes past his legs again, making him stumble over his feet. The cat leaps up onto one of the shelves, and she chuckles as she strokes its head, smiling at Joel before turning back to the stove. 

Seemingly satisfied with the state of whatever she’s got brewing, she claps her hands together before turning back around to Joel.

“Now then, poison ivy is no fun, huh? Probably get someone in here every couple of days asking for my help with it in the summer. Lucky for you, I’ve got just the stuff to calm it down.” When she passes by him, he gets a deep whiff of something heady, like that incense stuff Sarah liked to burn. Her hands flicker over glass jars, muttering to herself as she grabs a few items. He can’t help the way his eyes graze down her bare legs in her cut-off overalls, smiling when he sees she’s wearing two different colored sneakers. Arms full, she lays out her haul on what looks like once was a butcher's block, her eyes darting up to his as she coaxes him further into the room with a crook of her finger.

“This is witch hazel– it’ll be your kid’s first line of defense to help some of the redness and swelling calm down.” She passes him a small glass bottle full of murky liquid before holding up a little tin.

“Salve made with beeswax from the hives in town and calendula– she can slather this on to help with the itching.” She’s speaking so fast he doesn’t have time to question how she knows that his kid is a she, already holding up something else, a cloth sachet.

“Oatmeal, Sarah can run a bath and soak with this in it– should soothe the itching and calm down the rash in general. I’ll give you a couple of those, you can use them a few times, but fresh is always better.” He didn’t hear the last bit, a ringing starting in his ears at the mention of that name.

“You said Sarah– w-where’d you hear that name?” Her face falls.

“Oh, I, um–” He swallows hard, cutting her off.

“I had a daughter named Sarah– she— passed— when everything– well, when everything fell apart. How did you– how did you know that name?” She sighs, offering him a nervous smile.

“It was just a slip, a lucky guess– or unlucky, I suppose. I’m really sorry, Joel. I didn’t mean to–”

“No, no. It’s, um, it’s fine. Just caught me by surprise is all. Ellie– that’s the name of my kid that’s probably itching herself into a frenzy right now.” Her smile widens just slightly at that, her shoulders coming unwound. He reckons that if it had been anyone else saying Sarah’s name, he would’ve knocked their lights out. But all he feels hearing her say it is an almost soothing sadness.

“Well, in that case, I hope Ellie starts feeling better soon. Oh! I have one more thing for you!” Before he can protest, his hands already full of the little bits she gave him, she slips over to one of the shelves to grab another small tin before coming back over to him.

“Spearmint and lavender– these mountains are crawling with it– mixed up in a balm. Good for back pain.” His jaw slackens.

“How did you–”

“Lucky guess. Lemme know if it helps.” The way she grins at him almost distracts him, almost, but he huffs, shaking his head.

“I can’t take all this for free– it’s– it’s too much.” She laughs.

“Well who said anything about free? I was hoping you’d trade me some of your time for all that.” He squints at her, not sure what she means, and she chuckles at his questioning look.

“From what I hear, you’re pretty good on patrol. Would you be willing to come with me up into the mountains a time or two? It’s peak harvesting time for all these goodies and I could use an extra pair of eyes.” She waves her arm, motioning toward the shelves stocked with plants. 

“That’s all? Doesn’t sound like a–” She cuts him off with another wave of her arm, her bracelets clinking wildly with the motion.

“I know I drive a hard deal, but that’s the best I can do.” By the crinkling around her eyes, he can tell that there will be no arguing with her, even though it’s obviously not a fair trade with the way she’s loaded him up with stuff. He sighs, finally nodding.

“Um, alright then. You just tell me when and I’m your man– I mean– not your– I’m–” while he’s mortified by the way he just put his foot in his mouth, she seems perfectly amused by it, letting out a light laugh that cuts off his floundering.

“Sounds like we have a deal. I’d shake your hand if both of them weren’t full– oh! I haven’t even told you my name, have I?” He shakes his head and she sighs at herself, telling him her name. He rolls it over in his mind a few times as she apologizes for her lack of manners, walking with him back out to the front of the shop.

“If Ellie’s still itching in a week, come back and tell me. I might have something a little stronger that can help.” He nods as she opens the door for him, but before he can step out, the cat is twining between his boots, purring like an engine. He’s never liked cats much.

“Hmm, Stevie likes you. That’s rare, y’know. Very high compliment from little miss.” She grins at him, all warmth and sweetness. Maybe he can make an exception for one cat. She scoops up the cat, nuzzling her chin over the top of the purring feline’s head. He leans against the doorframe, suddenly not too worried about getting home to Ellie who’s probably scratching her skin off right now.

“Is that Stevie, um, as in Stevie Nicks?” That earns him her brightest smile yet. It didn’t take a genius to make that guess, seeing as she’s dressed like she just stepped out of a hippie commune, though Joel supposes that Jackson could fit that description.

“Mmhmm, you a Fleetwood Mac fan?” Truthfully, he isn’t. Not now, and not before. But for some reason, he’s inclined to nod.

“Aren’t you a little young to be listening to them?” She scoffs. He’s honestly not sure how old she is, definitely younger than him, but that’s as far as he can guess.

“They were my mom’s favorite band, and then they were mine– are mine. I managed to snatch an old vinyl of theirs a while ago but I wore it out I played it so much.” She lets out a light laugh, Stevie squirming in her arms. Joel makes a mental note to keep his eyes peeled for records on his patrol shifts, only getting snapped out of his thoughts when she lets out a sigh.

“I should let you get back to Ellie, she’s probably itching up a storm by now. Let me know how that stuff works for her.” He nods, taking one more look at the cat who he swears has been staring at him, before stepping out.

“I will– thank you– really, I appreciate it. And you’ll let me know when you need my help?” She offers him a crooked smile as she nods.

“I sure will. It was nice to meet you, Joel. I’ll see you soon.” 

It must have been his eyes playing tricks on him. At least that’s what he tells himself the whole walk home. Cats can’t wink, right?

…

With summer in full swing, the weekly market in town has moved from the community center outside to the main drag of Jackson, makeshift booths heavy with abundant produce, fresh breads, and other wares. 

Ellie had dragged Joel out with her, poison ivy all but cleared now, and promptly abandoned him to run off with her new friends. He finds himself leaning up against one of the storefronts, quietly watching the comings and goings, always surprised by just how many folks there are in this town. His interest is piqued, however, when he sees a familiar black cat slinking through the crowd. He cranes his neck, watching as the cat stops between a pair of mismatched sneakers. His eyes trail up, seeing her in those same overalls, dangly earrings glinting in the mid-day sun as she looks over a table of produce. 

“You’re gonna catch flies looking like that, brother.” Tommy’s voice startles him, his focus reluctantly pulling away from her to his brother who has sidled up next to him, a smug grin on his face. Joel clears his throat, trying to hide the fact that his jaw really had been hanging on its hinges. Tommy chuckles.

“Who are you making eyes at anyways?”

“I’m not making eyes at anyone. I was looking for Ellie– I lost track of her in this damn crowd.” Tommy shakes his head, his eyes trailing to where Joel had just been looking. By the way his grin widens, he seems to know exactly who Joel had been looking at.

“Maria told me she sent you to the apothecary the other day. That lady’s something else, huh?” Joel glances back over to her, seeing that she’s started wandering along the booths, cat trailing along behind her. 

“What’s her– how– what do you know about her?” Tommy sighs, glancing back at Joel.

“Well, the old Jackson rumor mill will tell you one thing. But all she’s been is a service to the community, really. Was the biggest help to Maria when she was pregnant– helped her through the birth and everything.” Joel squints at his brother.

“And what does the “old Jackson rumor mill” have to say about her?” Tommy lets out another sigh, scratching at the scruff along his jaw.

“It’s silly, honestly. Just a story made up by people with small minds.” 

“So what is it? Just tell me, Tommy.” 

“Some folks around town– they’ve got it in their heads that– well, that she’s a witch.” Joel feels his face go slack at that. Tommy just shakes his head.

“I told you it’s stupid. People just– they think she’s a bit strange, I guess. Though if you ask me, that rumor has more to do with all the wives of Jackson not liking the way their men look at her.” Joel glances away at his brother, finding her in the crowd. But this time, he notices all the people around her, mostly the women, and the nasty way they seem to size her up as she walks by. Joel huffs.

“That’s gotta be the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard. A couple of ladies get jealous so they start calling her a witch? Seriously?” Tommy shrugs.

“Hey, stranger things have happened. It’s not so hard to believe, not since people started growing mushrooms out of their skulls.” Tommy’s got him there, but Joel still has to shake his head at what his brother has told him.

“I thought you said it’s just a silly rumor.” His brother’s silence tells him more than words ever could, and Joel has to laugh.

“You’re kidding. You actually think that we’ve got a– a witch in town?” Tommy grumbles at that. 

“Look, Joel, I’m not gonna lie to you. There’s been some freaky shit with her– healing people, knowing things that she shouldn’t know, hell, even that damn cat of hers is–” 

“What do you mean– knowing things she shouldn’t know?” Tommy huffs at Joel’s interruption.

“She calls them lucky guesses. All I’ll say is it sure seems like that woman has a lot of luck.” Joel’s breath catches listening to Tommy’s explanation, his mind immediately going back to that day he met her, how she had known Sarah’s name. 

“Listen, the bottom line is, she’s done nothing but good for Jackson with that shop of hers. Whatever she is, she’s a good one. But, brother, I wouldn’t go calling after her.” Joel’s brow furrows, head tilting at his brother. 

“I wasn’t– even if I was– why shouldn’t I?” Tommy smirks, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Because while the women of Jackson call her a witch, the men of Jackson just call her a heartbreaker.” 

[holylulusworld]

Indecent Proposal (10)

Summary: Your boyfriend wants to be part of their empire. You are the pawn he’s willing to sacrifice.

Pairing: Mobster!Stucky x fem!Reader

Warnings: sexy mobsters, fluff, voyeurism, established Stucky, reverse cowgirl, grinding, groping, breeding kink, a lil angst, bitchy ex, smut, unprotected sex

Indecent Proposal (9.2)

Indecent Proposal masterlist

“See, the little getaway with our pretty doll was a great idea,” Bucky purrs while running his hand up and down his cock. He doesn’t care about the luxurious ambiance of the cabin they bought, only for you. His eyes are glued to you and his husband.

Steve is sitting on one of the comfortable armchairs and watches you move backward to sit in his lap. “Lift your cute ass again, baby. I’m gonna give you what you are craving.”

Bucky watches you slowly sink on his husband’s cock. “Slow, sweetness,” Steve helps you steady your body. You want to try something new with the blonde, so you take your righteous place on the throne he offers. “Good girl, now open up for me.”

You lean back against his chest and allow Steve to guide you down on his cock. He groans in your ear, almost sounding desperate as you eagerly roll your hips to test the best position. 

“Fuck, he’s so big, Bucky,” you look the brunette straight in the eyes while his husband cups your tits to play with your nipples.

“Do you want a cowboy hat too,” Bucky mirrors your smirk. “You look so pretty on top of Stevie.” He drops his eyes to your cunt. “Even better stuffed with his cock.”

“She’s a good girl,” Steve gives you a few shallow thrusts. “Right, doll? You are so good for me and Bucky.” The blonde moves one hand between your legs to pinch your clit. “I asked you a question!”

“YES!” you breathlessly reply. You’re already on the edge and can’t wait to feel Steve fill you up too. On your flight to your secret cabin, you already sucked him off while his husband ate your cunt until you came all over his face.

Now you start bouncing up and down, while his husband pleasures himself. Bucky groans and grunts, urging you on to move faster, and give his husband what he’s craving.

“I bet her womb will welcome your spunk too, Stevie. She will have all of our babies and look so pretty when I suck milk from her tits.”

You can feel Steve’s cock throb inside of you. He’s close to losing it only from the way you grind back and forth. “Shit, stop talking like that, Buck. I could cum right now and fill her up.”

“Do it,” you whine. “Please. I don’t care if I cum. I only want to feel you use my cunt and breed it. Give me your seed. Make me yours.”

“Oh, fuck taking it slow,” Steve growls. He lifts you off his lap and stands up to push you onto the bed. You end up bending over, Steve behind you. “Have my cock, whore.”

He slips back inside and immediately grips your hips. Steve loses all control. He slams into you without holding back. “Harder,” you gasp and moan. “Cum inside of me. Fuck me until I cry. Break me!”

“Stevie…doll!” Bucky makes an odd noise. His cum hits Steve’s back and ass, but the blonde doesn’t stop. 

He pins you to the mattress with his weight and starts battering your cunt. Steve is rutting into you deep, and slow. 

He growls in your ear, whispering all the filthy thoughts swirling in his mind. “You’re my whore. Mine. I’ll give you a baby. No one will take you away from us. This cunt is ours. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” you can only take his punishing thrusts and give up control. All the softness is gone. This is primal fucking, and the need to get bred, and to breed. “I’m yours…”

“Of course you are ours,” Bucky slaps his husband’s ass. “Fuck her harder. I want to see her broken and filled with cum. Maybe I’ll give her a load later too.”

They are talking about you as if you aren’t even there with them, but all you can think about is that you want this more than anything. Giving up control, and letting these men give you what you have been craving for so long.

“Fuck,” you fist the sheets. “I want to feel it.” Steve groans into your ear feeling your cunt tighten around him. “Now.”

“Shit…doll…” He cums with a shout of your name and collapses on top of you. For a moment you both don’t move. Steve nuzzles his face in your neck while you lie on the bed, a little shell-shocked at your change of mind.

Weeks ago you were afraid of them and wanted to run for the hills. Now you willingly let them fill you up. 

“So pretty when you cum,” Bucky pats your head. “Did he make you feel good, baby doll? I bet he did.”

“Yeah…” You weakly reply. “So good…”

“I think she needs a break,” Steve slowly pulls out of you. “Damn, she looks good filled with cum.”

He gets up to look at your abused cunt. “Give me my phone, baby. I wanna take a picture.”

“You perv,” Bucky throws the phone at Steve. “I want a close-up.”

“Who’s the perv here,” Steve snaps a few pictures while his husband kneels on the bed to knead your ass. “Give her a break, Buck.”

“Break…and food…” You are almost asleep when you feel like you are floating on air. One of them picked you up to carry you inside the bathroom while the other prepared a warm bath for you, and them.

“Good thing I wanted the biggest bathtub I could get,” Bucky smirks at his husband. “Now we can all have a bathtub party.”

“So, what are we doing here?” You look around the deserted store. “I thought we got everything we’ll need at the cabin.”

“We wanted to grab a few more things,” Bucky wraps his arm around your shoulders while his husband busies himself with the wine. “Steve, we’ve got more than enough wine. Let’s get this over with. I want to go home and chase you around the bedroom until you give up and let me fuck your sweet peach.”

“Buck, not here,” Steve grunts. “I want to get more wine and food. You never know if there will be more snow.”

“Oh yeah, wine and white chocolate will save us,” the brunette snorts. “Do you want to have a look at their more interesting stuff? I saw chocolate flavored lubed over there.”

“Bucky,” you grunt. “Not here.”

“You are both so boring in public. I bet,” Bucky licks his lips, “you would let me fuck you right here, next to the shelf with chocolate. A sweet sin next to sweet things.”

“Buck, behave. We have time to get naughty when we are back at the cabin,” Steve tuts. He can be such a prude in public and the kinkiest man in the bedroom. “We got everything. Doll, do you need anything?”

“Uh-for how long are we going to stay here?” You quirk a brow. “I need lady toiletries if we stay for longer.”

“Soon you won’t need them,” Bucky pecks your cheek. “Go ahead and get all you need. I’ll grab the good stuff while Steve gets more wine.”

You aimlessly walk through the store. Steve and Bucky never stray too far. You can hear them chat about wine and food. 

They look like a normal, almost domestic pair to anyone but you. You’re the only person at the store knowing about their profession.

“If that ain’t the new toy,” a woman snarls as you are about to have a look at the ice cream. “What’s your name, sugartits?”

“What?” You blink a few times. The woman seems to talk to you, but you have no clue what she wants. 

“You heard me! Did they promise you to love you too?” She sneers when Bucky and Steve make their way toward you. “I bet they did. You should watch your back.” She snaps at you. “If you don’t, you end up stabbed. They don’t love anyone but themselves.”

One angry look from Bucky, and the woman flees. Leaving you speechless and stunned.

You didn’t expect them to fall in love with you. Hell, you don’t know whatever is going on between you and them. Still, her words have you worried…

“Doll, she’s a frustrated bitch who doesn’t want us to get happy with you. Please believe me, she doesn’t mean shit to us. We haven’t seen her for almost three years,” Bucky sighs as you pull away.

You sniff and look away. “If we ever break up, will you say the same about me? Maybe you only want me to have your heir and kick me out the moment I pop out your baby.”

“Y/N, we should all calm down,” Steve softly says. “You see the woman at the store was Peggy Carter. A former love interest. Buck and I had something going on with her some years back. It was an on-and-off kind of thing. Sex only.”

“We broke things up because she got possessive over Steve,” Bucky makes a face. “You are important to us. I don’t know if it’s love, but we care for you.”

“If we are having a baby, you will be their mother. Bucky and I will not let you go. Not now, not ever. You are ours and belong with us.”

“And we belong with you,” the brunette adds. “This is not all about kinky sex, doll.” He smirks and undresses you with his eyes. “Even though, I want you to watch me have my way with Steve.”

“Okay,” you nod. “If we are going to bring new life into this…” You wrinkle your forehead. “Let’s call it a relationship. I want to clarify I few rules.”

“Oh, sweet doll,” Bucky purrs and is about to pounce on you. “I’m all for rules.”

“Bucky, she’s not wrong. We should talk about rules and our future together. Y/N needs safety and stability.”

Indecent Proposal (11)

Tags in reblog.

[imfinereallyy]

“I think the drugs might be kicking in.” Steve looks at Robin across the really soft carpet they are currently sprawled on. Like it’s really soft. Surprisingly soft.

Like Eddie’s hair.

Robin turns her head, “And how do you know that dingus?”

Steve giggles, “Because I have the sudden urge to tell you about my crush on Eddie and how that is very confusing. And sober me swore to take that to the grave.”

Steve expects her to freak out, but instead, Robin just blinks at him. “Oh good, we’re talking about this.”

Steve frowns, “Wait, you’re not surprised?”

This seems to send Robin into hysterical giggles, the weed suddenly hitting her at the same time. “C’mooooon, Stevie. You’re so obvious. Well obvious to me, at least. The rest of our friends couldn’t spot another queer person for the life of them. Like seriously, half of them gotta be at least some sort of gay—“

“Robbie.”

“Right, sorry. I just know ya, dingus. And I know your heart eyes. The real ones, not the ones you made at me at some point.”

“Gross. Don’t bring that up.”

Robin rolls her eyes fondly, and giggles softer this time. “It’s okay to like him, ya know. Think he might be good for ya.”

Steve leans his head against Robin’s shoulder. “Yea, I think so too.” He grabs her hand, and gives it a squeeze. “Just like Nancy is good for you.”

Robin whips her head towards Steve, clunking their heads together. “You know about that? How?!”

Steve rubs his forehead, “I had suspicions which you just confirmed.” He bumps his head against her gently, “But mostly it’s because I know ya dingus.”

This sends the both of them into hysterical laughter. It’s at this moment Eddie decides to rejoin the two of them, “Why do I feel like I missed something?”

This only makes Steve and Robin laugh harder. So hard they can’t breathe, like they are trying to steal each other's oxygen.

“Hey, this is a new house, and I won’t have you guys tainting it with bad-mouthing me before Wayne and I can properly break it in.” Eddie feigns annoyance, but a fond smile tries to break his way onto his face.

“Sorry Doofus.”

“Sorry Eds.”

Eddie walks over and plops between them on the carpet. “Apology accepted. Now, spill.” He grins wide with a mischievous smile.

Steve and Robin only giggle in response. Eyes locked with secrets just for them, just for a little while longer.

***

shorter than my usual, but felt like a lil fun piece. If anyone wants to add or give this idea a try that would be cool, I’m so tired my brain can’t function (much like the terror twins🧡) right now to write more lol.

good night :)

[hungharrington]

i looove the idea of steve putting on a few post vecna, his sweet sweet thighs and belly 😭😭❤️just completely oblivious and slightly confused to the adoration held for his softness. slow blowjob in the morning caressing his tummy and working your hand down his happy trail, before going to squeeze his cock. hands squishing and kneading his thighs as he’s sucked off, his pretty little whimpers escaping

THIS. THIS ASK HAS STUCK IN MY BRAIN AND FOLLOWED ME AROUND SINCE U SENT IT NONNIE LIKE YOU!! GET!! IT!! there is such pure adoration in this ask… u love stevie like i do i just know it <3 

it’s not that he’s skinny beforehand it’s just it’s year after year after year of living in survival mode does things to the body. steve’s on the leaner side and it’s saved his skin more times he can count, being nimble and fast. so, yeah, it does take a good year or two before steve manages to relax in his life and then at least one more for his body to catch up and let him settle. let him grow properly— give him that chub around his thighs, his tummy a proper lil pouch instead of lean and hard muscle. and to be honest, steve doesn’t really notice :’) he’s caught up in living his life fully with you happily and you only catch it, like really notice the difference, after seeing a photo of him back in ‘83 and it sets a fucking fire in you. you can’t contain it, can’t think normally about how much you adore the softness steve’s grown into with you — and it comes out the next morning, when you’re both getting handsy between the sleepy kisses. 

steve is surprised by how eager you are— normally mornings together are more of a slow cuddle fuck if anything— but today, you’re hungry for it, lips just caressing down his neck, sloppy kisses down his chest til you get to his tummy and steve loves it. he loves the view of you peering up at him, adoration in your gaze as you nuzzle along his happy trail with a content hum. your hands are soft, sweet, giving a ghost of a touch along the planes of his torso and you don’t mean to tease him, but his length pressed against your stomach isn’t enough to draw you from loving on him. it’s not til he starts squirming a bit that you notice he’s all hot and bothered, chest rising and falling a bit quick. “m’sorry baby,” you murmur, finally letting your kisses lead you lower, along his hipbone. “didn’t mean to tease.” 

you try to restrain yourself and give yourself only a minute on his thighs, little nips and lovebites, but even then steve notices it a bit, the extra attention you’re giving. he sounds a bit wrecked when he rasps his words out, “lotsa… christ, lotsa love on the thighs today, honey,” and you use that are your cue to slide his leaking cock into your mouth, pulling out this adorable soft little moan. you pull back, giving the head the smallest kitten lick, hands stretching up to his tummy for a moment, “bad thing?”you check. steve’s shaking his head against the pillow in an instant, “no! no, never. never… never a bad thing being loved by you sweetness,” his voice is all sticky with love and you know he means every word. your hands drag down to hold his thighs, kneading the softness as you start to suck him gently. the bedroom is golden in the morning sun and steve’s soft little noises, whimpers and moans, sound downright sinful and he feels so damn loved. it might just be a perfect morning.

[thefreakandthehair]

my fiance walked into the kitchen last night to me in a rolling stones tee shirt and sweatpants, glass of wine in hand, bopping around to linkin park while cooking for easter. and it gave me a cute lil idea! enjoy!

It's a strange thing, holidays with a large family.

Eddie and Wayne don't really do Easter, it having been just the two of them for so many years. Sure, Eddie had woken up to baskets with plastic grass of various pastel colors when he was a kid, when Wayne was determined to give Eddie as normal of an upbringing as possible, but they've never had to plan a meal. There've never been assignments, or coordination, or questions like Who's bringing the mashed potatoes? Either Wayne grabs them at the store, or they don’t have them. Easy peasy.

This year is different. Easter 1987 brings friends, family, and a list that looks a lot like a menu on Steve Harrington's refrigerator. Eddie's name is scrawled in Steve's handwriting next to mashed potatoes, which explains why there's a huge pot of water on the stove and five pounds of potatoes glaring at him on Steve's counter. 

It doesn’t take much to convince Steve, who’s lovesick beyond words unbeknownst to Eddie, to let him take over his larger, better-equipped kitchen for the occasion. A simple pout and the fluttering of his eyelashes as he makes his case: "Please, Stevie? Take pity on poor ol' Eddie with his lack of a stand mixer and counterspace?” 

So he finds himself at the counter, music blasting at what feels like a soothing billion and five decibels, cutting potatoes like the cookbook he finds in the clutter of the trailer illustrates and bopping around to Dio’s Holy Diver. He isn’t much of a cook but there’s something comforting about the monotonous repetition of peeling and cutting, and plopping them into the pot of water. Comforting enough, in fact, that he doesn’t feel Steve’s eyes on him from the doorway, watching with a warm, fond smile. 

Steve watches and lets his thoughts drift, just for a moment, to future holidays. Of Memorial Day picnics, and Fourth of July pool parties, of birthdays, and Thanksgivings, and Christmases, and in all of them, every version and every iteration his hysterical, lovesick brain can conjure in that doorway, he wants this. He wants Eddie with wild hair just barely holding onto the elastic tying it back, with sweatpants that show his level of comfort around Steve, that show he can relax and not put on all of the airs he typically does for his look. Shit, he even wants to hear fucking Dio playing in the kitchen from the goddamn garage if it signals Eddie being present. 

He’s not sure when he started moving, but his body pulls him into the kitchen like the magnet holding the menu to the refrigerator door. 

“Hey,” he says, striding up to stand next to Eddie at the counter. “Need some help?” 

Eddie smiles and takes a sip of the beer Steve hasn’t seen until now, another indicator of Eddie making himself right at home. 

“The King assisting the lowly cook here? In the Castle kitchen? I’m honored.” Eddie fakes what Steve assumes is supposed to be a courtesy. He chuckles and hip bumps Eddie when he straightens back out. 

“Oh shut it and scoot over.” Steve’s voice betrays him, too syrupy and sweet to carry any annoyance, and Eddie notices. He turns just slightly, watching as Steve rummages through a drawer for a second knife. 

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you actually want to spend your morning making mashed potatoes with me, Steve.” 

He’s caught. Steve’s caught, hook, line, and sinker, and something about the genuine curiosity and hope in Eddie’s voice makes that okay. He doesn’t mind being caught when he’s in the safety of this domestic bubble with Eddie, because that’s what it is. It’s safe. 

The first round of potatoes don’t come out well. Their first kiss over the gloppy, gummy potatoes though? That goes perfectly.

[rookthorne]

⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ 𝐍𝐞𝐰 𝐑𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐮𝐢𝐭

While saving lives was Bucky’s passion and calling, you couldn’t help but have the need to be there to save him. And one day, you came up with the idea of how to stay with the guardian angel all through his shift.

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 ☤ Paramedic!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 ☤ 1.0k

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 ☤ Tooth rotting fluff

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆 ☤ I want the love of my life to always have me with them, and I thought the same for Bucky.

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒎 ☤ Flightless Bird, American Mouth by Iron & Wine

𝐋𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬, 𝐒𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐒𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

“Babe!” Bucky called into the apartment while his heavy boots thumped over the tiled floors in his search for you. “Baby, c’mon, where’s my bag?”

“In here,” you replied. You hastened in your mission and just as the footfalls came closer to the bedroom, you turned and faced the door, Bucky’s work duffle held out by both your hands. 

Bucky appeared in the doorway, his uniform jacket undone to reveal a tight black undershirt, and the swishing sound of his pants over his thighs came to a stop – just as your heart did. His hair was in a half-up, half-down style, and the tattoos that lined his neck stood out in relief against the rough, dark fabric of his collar. 

It was enough to make your heart thunder against your ribs. 

“What are you doing, Peanut?” Bucky asked, raising a suspicious brow and looking between you and his outstretched duffel. “Why do you have my bag–no, don’t look all cute ‘n innocent on me, I know that’s a lie.”

“Oh, come on,” you laughed, shaking your head. “So little faith in me, huh?”

Bucky flattened his expression. “Ha, ha, very funny. Seriously, what will happen when I open this?”

You considered it for a moment, but your thoughts must have flashed across your expression because Bucky’s lips curled into a smirk. “No, get your mind out of the gutter.” The pout on his lips made you grin. “Just… I packed someone for you.”

“Someone–?” 

“Yeah,” you replied. There was a moment of silence where you stared at Bucky, and he stared back, unblinking and determined in his mission for you to break first.

Naturally, you didn’t.

Bucky sighed. “Fine,” he drawled, and he walked towards the bed and placed the duffle on the comforter. “I’m gonna open this and it better not be a prank.”

“Would I do that?” you asked innocently, battering your eyelashes for an added effect. 

“Do I have to answer that?” he retorted as he unzipped the bag. You slapped his shoulder in retaliation and sat on the side of the bed, watching as he dug through the contents and searching for anything amiss, when he paused. 

The normally at ease slump of his shoulders tightened minutely – it would have been unnoticeable under his bulky uniform, but you knew his tells. His brow had furrowed and he licked his lips. “Baby, is this–what is this?”

“I thought- Well, I thought you might, um–like someone with you on shift that’s not Stevie,” you explained, watching his expression morph from confusion to bewilderment. “And I saw this lil’ guy, and you know I love them, so…”

Bucky stood up straight, and by doing so, he revealed what you had hidden amongst the instruments of his work bag. It was a small, soft stuffie – the shape of a round marshmallow, only a thousand times cuter. “So this is one of your favourite stuffies?” he mused, a soft smile on his lips. “You got me my own, huh?”

You nodded. “Yeah, I thought they could be me… Y’know, to keep you safe–to keep you company.”

“Oh, baby girl,” Bucky breathed, and he stepped closer. “You’re always with me–keeping me safe, alright?” 

His lips were soft on yours, and you smiled into the kiss before he pulled away. 

The loss of his lips made a pang of sadness course through you; missing him already, even when you were in arms reach. “She’s gonna be a fine recruit to the misfits,” Bucky chuckled, turning the stuffie over in his hands. “So damn soft too. I reckon the kids that see her will love her to bits.” He paused, and then smirked. “Well, this little baby is gonna sit on the dash of my truck. Thank you, sweetheart.”

You giggled shyly and hid your face. “I’m glad.”

Bucky grinned at you and put the stuffie on the top of his bag. “Now, c’mere–I wanna love on my Peanut before the madness that is night shift.”

You laughed and launched yourself into his arms, giggling like a lovestruck fool at his exaggerated grunt of effort. 

“You be safe out there, Buck,” you whispered finally, letting him rock you side to side. “My stuffie will be watching out for you and Stevie, okay?”

“Mhm,” Bucky hummed, and he kissed your head. “Got my own little guardian stuffie–so damn cute, jus’ like you.”

After kissing Bucky goodbye, you settled onto the couch with a blanket and one of your own stuffies to watch a movie. The sense of familiar unease that came with the loss of his company an age old tell you’d lived with for years now, only this time – since you had started to date the oaf, it was different. 

No matter how many times Bucky had assured you that he loved his job and wouldn’t trade it for the world, there was always a niggling feeling of worry every time he walked out that front door to face the horrors and the wholesomeness of the population. 

The sun had set a few moments ago when your phone chimed – it was Bucky, and he had sent an image. 

Pinks and yellows and oranges painted the side of his truck a mosaic of colours, and he was holding the stuffie up to the light. And in typical Stevie fashion, the blond idiot had poked his head around the toy and given the camera the goofiest expression. 

The next photo was in the truck – Bucky was sitting in the driver’s seat, evident by the steering wheel at the bottom of the photo, while the stuffie you had given him was sitting proudly on the dash with a pen and the radio propped up against it. 

The last photo made your heart swoop in your chest, however. It was a selfie Bucky had taken – the stuffie was sitting in his breast pocket, the blinding smile Bucky bestowed the camera brighter than any sunny day. 

And when you read the caption, you couldn’t help but sniffle.

My Peanut, the love of my life, watching over me – just as I do her.

⠈⠂⠄ 𝐢𝐧𝐛𝐨𝐱 | 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 | 𝐚𝐨𝟑  ⠄⠂⠁

⠈⠂⠄𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 ⠄⠂⠁

[bettyfrommars]

hi hey hello i am here to humbly request a sexy lil stevie blurb where he’s getting his succu bussed by demon babe.

go nuts. go wild. maybe steve is a good catholic boy maybe he’s not i dunno the evil power is in your hands.

goodBoy!Steve x demon!fem!Reader

18+ONLY - MDNI - smut, Steve falls in love, unprotected p in v, hint of dubcon but only for a moment, demon sex, oral for all, hints to religious trauma, heaven and hell, mention of demons, curses, star-crossed lovers. wc: 2.9k

Good Boy

Steve Harrington was on his knees that night, praying at the foot of the bed, waiting for the all too familiar rustling sound to come from inside the closet.  He prayed louder, faster, but he knew you were coming for him, just like you had every night since he found The Book and accidentally summoned you. 

He’d tried to throw the book out the window, he’d tried to burn the book, but every night it returned to his bedside table, right where his bible used to be.  His family farm had fallen on hard times; the dirt was dry, and the crops were dying, and an old woman in town sold him a book with a spell inside that would bring life back to the land.  Steve had always been a very good boy; he worshiped at church, and he worked from sunup to sundown on the farm.  He had sexual relations with women before, of course.  Once right out of high school, and a couple times with his first girlfriend, Dora, but she always told him he was too big, and it hurt.  Steve didn’t want to hurt anyone, and so he’d been saving himself for marriage ever since.  

That is, until, that first night the demon came to claim him.  

It’d been 7 unholy days full of sins unimaginable since the night he drew the symbol on the floor, dripped blood from his pricked finger, and recited the spell from the book.  7 days since the rains came and the diseased crops glowed ripe and plentiful like an overnight miracle. The book itself was tanned leather, made from some type of skin, embossed with three symbols on the spine but no other distinguishing markings. At first, he cursed the day he was stopped by that old woman in the street, peddling her wares in a pushcart.  

Her wrinkled hand snaked out from under her black shawl to take his wrist with a touch that was hot with fever.  “You’ll never know if you don’t try it,” she rasped, hunched over, her face in shadow.  “Many people have been cured by my spells; many roses have bloomed in my wake.  A good boy like you deserves to be rewarded.”

He didn’t even remember buying the book, but suddenly it was clutched under his arm, wrapped in newspaper, and he was on the other side of the street.  He looked around, searching for the old woman, but it was as if she’d never existed.  He adjusted his glasses, lip curled in confusion, running a hand through his unruly hair.  When he unwrapped the paper to see what he had, he realized the pages in the book were, indeed, not the word of God, and so he threw it away in the nearest garbage can.

That was the first time it ended up back on his nightstand.  He tossed it out the window and into the pond, only to have it materialize minutes later.  He recited the lord's prayer and begged for God to remove the book, but it was no use.  

That night, he lay in bed shirtless, one hand behind his head, kept wide awake by the compulsion to perform the spell in the book the old woman had told him about.  In a half hour, the spell was done, and he was wiping the chalk and blood off the wood floor, shaking his head, sucking back tears at the idea of a lifetime in purgatory.  

But, the next day, he realized the spell had worked, and maybe the woman was right: good boys deserve to be rewarded, and Steve was a very good boy.

That night, after an afternoon of celebration at the farm for the miracle that had clearly been a gift from God himself, Steve crawled into bed with a smile on his face.  Under the covers, he jerked himself off, riddled with shame as he did so, moaning a bit to himself, worrying his parents would hear him downstairs.  Blind in the dark without his glasses, he reached for the box of tissues with his cum-covered hand, and touched The Book instead, wiping his seed across the symbols on the spine.

That was the first time he heard the noises coming from the closet: a swoosh, and then a stomp, and then the rattling of the doorknob as something worked it open from the inside.  

When Steve snapped the light on, there you were, standing at the end of the bed.  Looming formidable, smooth red skin tight against your muscles, two horns curled on either side of your head like that of a ram, eyes wide and glossy black. You wore a harness on your neck, breasts bare and firm, nipples hard.  From the waist down, there appeared to be dark fur, as if you had the hips and legs of a goat, complete with the glimpse of a hoof just before it morphed into a human foot, and a human leg.  

Steve scrambled back against the headboard, too afraid to even scream, struggling to get his glasses on.

“Begone demon!” His voice quivered.  But why did he like what he saw so much? You sauntered around the corner of the bed to get closer, long, pointed tongue flicking out to touch your cheek. There was a purring, or a clicking noise happening in the back of your throat

His cock was rock hard, the tip sticky against the inside of the blanket. 

“Do you want me to help with this?” You asked, in the same tone a snake might speak with, finishing with long S’s.  

Steve gasped when you pulled back the cover to reveal his generous length curved tight up his stomach above his white boxers.  You sat down on the bed near his leg, the springs squeaking, and his cock twitched, aching as he watched every flick of your tongue.  With a snap of your fingers, the bedside lamp went out, so now the moon through the thin curtains was the only witness to the weight of Steve’s desire.  

Your teeth were sharp, but your lips were soft, and it was all Steve could do not to buck his hips in his eagerness for you to take him.  This had to be a dream, and in dreams, you can’t be held accountable for the things you take part in.  Maybe he’d even forget it by the time he woke up.  He kicked the blanket all the way down with his socked feet, and you ran your pointed nails along his hairy shin, all the way up to the hem of his shorts, making him shiver.  You scratched at his balls gently with the tips of your nails through his boxers, tapping tapping, causing more pre-cum to dribble from his tip.

“Are you…” Steve stammered.  Sweat shining on the skin under his chest hair.  “...what do you want from me?”

“I want to taste you,” you told him, eyeing the tip of his cock hungrily.  Knowing full well you could take him even if he said no, Steve nodded, bracing his hands on either side of him.  

You bent over but kept your black eyes on him, dropping your long, pink tongue down to taste the sweet skin of his shaft and the fresh juice from his hole, concentrating on the ridge under his flesh tip.  You wrapped your lips around the head, moaning as you did so, softly grazing the skin with your teeth. Steve threw his head back, his balls aching to do their job again. Your mouth was so wet, your tongue like velvet. He really did not want to like this, but dreams were funny that way.

"I need more,” you swallowed, rubbing your lips together.  “You're such a good boy, so patient.”

“I- I- I don’t want to hurt you,” Steve stuttered as you pulled his boxers down and made your way onto the bed to straddle him.  He was concerned with you taking the generous nature of his girth.

The sentiment made you close your eyes, roll your head back and growl, imagining the seed of such a good boy feeding the darkness inside of you.  You took his hand, bringing his fingers to the slick slit between your legs.  

“Holy moly,” Steve gasped.  “Is that…because of me?” His eyes were so innocent when they found your dark orbs, it made you line his cock up with your hole and sink down, pinching the tip with your tight inner muscles, hovering there.

“Remember what I told you?” You waited to hear him whimper with need before you sank all the way down.  “Good boys deserve rewards.”

The speed and strength with which you rode him had his eyes rolling back so that only the whites were visible, neck muscles straining when he turned his head to the side and squeezed his eyes shut.  

“Look at me,” you told him, demanding.  You took one of his hands. “Circle your thumb right here,” you brought it to your clit.  “Rub it fast, just like that, so I can cum too.”  

“Wait, women can cum? Like men do?” Steve blanched in between grunts of pleasure, raising his hips in jerky movements to meet the way you pounded down on his cock.  “I don’t think I’ve ever been inside anyone this deep before.”  He frowned in concentration, rubbing your clit like he was told, experiencing waves of pleasure he never thought were possible.  

“You fill me up so good,” you assured him, bottoming out and then rocking back and forth.  Every time you rose, you milked him with your tight walls.  

Steve barely had time to bark a warning that he was cumming before the whip cracked inside of him and he was pumping all he had inside of you.  

“Oh good boy, good boy,” you repeated, thighs making a smacking sound as you helped him ride his high.  “All of it, give it all to me.”

You waited until he was done, head back breathless on the pillow, before you slipped him out of you and got on your belly to lick him clean.  Your tongue worked under his balls, tickling at his ass, thinking you’d like to stick more in there one day, enjoying his moans as he discovered sensations he liked but had never explored before.

Steve wasn’t sure what you were doing when you moved up to straddle his head, positioning your dripping pussy above his face.  But, then you lowered yourself to his mouth and he understood, throwing his tongue around in your folds as best he could while cum dripped out of your hole and down his chin.  

You wanted to fuck that sweet mouth until the end of time.  Grabbing the headboard, you cursed in your ancient language, cunt rippling against his full lips as you came.  You let out a growl that was animalistic, and Steve realized that the sound triggered a lust deep inside and turned him on, just like everything else about you.  

The day after that, Steve had a spring in his step.  The best sex of his life had been with a demon in his dream, but still—he felt as satisfied as if it had happened in real life.  His parents did say they heard him up late walking around his room, and swore they heard a coyote whining right outside their window, but he brushed it off after he apologized profusely for waking them. 

But, that very next night, he was forced to come to the cold, hard conclusion that, not only were you real, but he was starting to have feelings for you.  

Fully dressed, Steve took his glasses off and threw water on his face in the bathroom sink, trying to wake himself up when you appeared out of the closet the next night.  “No way, no how, no sir,” he shook his head.  “There’s no way this is happening.”

He faced you and jabbed his finger at the book, water dripping from his hair and nose.  “God will smite me if I continue to fornicate with you, and this book is to blame.”

You were not forced to fuck Steve because of a curse.  That first night, yes, he had inadvertently summoned you. But, after that, it was  your own free will that had you polishing your horns and sharpening your claws, wanting to look good for him.  Steve had free will too, and he could’ve told you at any moment that he didn’t want  you there, but he never did. 

On that second night, the two of you kissed for the first time, and then you sucked him off, swallowing him deep inside, making his legs shake and his knees buckle.  Every night was a new sexual experiment, a new avenue of lust to pave Steve’s way to hell.

On the fifth night, you were next to him in bed, silicone strap-on harnessed in place, still slick with lube, and he took your strong, red hand in his.  “You know what? If you’re in hell, I don’t think it would be so bad.”

You turned your head on the pillow.  “There’s something I should tell you.”

The sound of your voice made Steve afraid.  He turned on his side to face you, tucking his hands under his head like a pillow.  “I’m listening.”

You kept  your gaze to the shadows of the ceiling.  “I’m only here for seven days,” you swallowed hard. “And then I have to go back.”

“Back? Back where? In the closet?” Steve pressed.

‘Back…where I’m from,” you said softly.

“Wait, back to hell?” 

You gave a crooked grin.  “If that’s what you want to call it.  But I am not of your world, clearly,” you used your hand to gesture to your body and your horns.  

“I think you’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” he offered, sincerely.

You blinked a few times, almost shy under his earnest gaze.  “There’s a portal in the closet and it’s going to close on the seventh night,” only as you said the words did they start to sink in for you.  “We’ll never see each other again.”

The two of you sat in silence for most of the rest of that visit, trying to come to terms with the weight of your realities.

On the seventh and final night, there were tears from both parties.  You let him see you that night, in your actual half human, half beast form, and he did not turn away from you. Steve filled you up while on top of you, kissing you, missionary style.  It was the most vanilla of all of the positions, but it was quickly becoming your favorite as you wrapped your furry legs around him.  You drifted in and out of sleep in each other’s arms; you could only stay till midnight and Steve wanted you there until the last second.  You’d had plenty of lovers in your day, back in your world, but none of them had been as tender as Steve. You worried that you cared about him enough to make the separation very painful.

“What will happen if you don’t go in?” Steve asked, holding your hand outside the closet.

“I’ll probably cease to exist,” you shrugged.  “I’m not really sure.”

Fair enough, Steve didn’t want to take any chances.  If he could summon you once, he could summon you again, and he’d work every spell in the book until he figured it out.  When the time came, there was one last tearful look and hand hold before the door shut, but just as it closed flush with the wall, Steve flung it open again, needing one more kiss from you.

But, you were already gone.  

You were not the only thing missing.  To Steve’s horror, he realized he was no longer in possession of The Book.  There was an empty space on the nightstand, and it was not under the bed or in any of his drawers. 

The next morning, he tore his room apart, rummaging through the tiny closet, groaning in frustration, flipping shoe boxes over his head and ripping coats off of hangers.

“What’s going on up there, Stevie? We’ll be late for church.” His mother’s voice called from the bottom of the stairs.

“I’m not going!” Steve barked, but then he collected himself. “My apologies mother.  I’ll be right down.”

The sermon by Pastor Wilson was particularly long and torturous that day for Steve in his button down shirt and tie. He desperately wanted nothing more than to go back to his closet and find a way to get back to you. Pastor Wilson asked the congregation to stand for a hymn and that was when Steve caught sight of a familiar sight out of the corner of his eye: it was the hunched over figure of the old woman he’d bought the book from.  She was standing outside the church window, looking in, her black scarf over her head, bracing against the wind. 

But, she was moving now, turning and walking away.

Steve followed, excusing himself, he pushed through bodies as fast as he could without knocking people over while the congregation sang about begging for holy protection from satan.

Steve broke through the church door and out into the daylight just in time to see the older woman disappear around a street corner, shuffling her cart with her.  Steve ripped his tie off and unbuttoned his shirt, preparing to run the distance to catch up with her.

“Leaving now?” An elderly man shouted after Steve from inside the church.  “You’ll go to hell for that, son.”

“God, I hope so,” Steve barked over his shoulder, arms pumping as he lit out across the street, running toward the devil with all his might.

[justburningdaylight]

Operation Love Me

Steve Harrington x Fem Reader

Summary: Reader has been with Steve for almost two years. Recently he’s been pulling away. She believes he’s fallen out of love, so she devises a plan to gain his love back.

Warnings: angst (again, sorry besties), but also lots of fluff, happy ending, mentions of nightmares, i think there’s a curse word somewhere, a few kisses, my inner stevie nicks stan pops out, dustin overstays his welcome a couple times, let me know when you spot the all too well reference, no spoilers !

Word count: 2.2k

a/n: just a lil something i whipped up for you guys <3 i had a looot of fun with this one ! p.s. requests are open, come chat with me !

When Steve Harrington asked you to be his girlfriend, it was a transcendent experience. You were almost certain it was a dream, some empyrean reverie concocted within the confines of your mind.

In the near two years since that metamorphic experience, things had shifted poignantly.

More specifically Steve had shifted. And you knew why.

He wasn’t in love with you anymore.

He never verbalized this, but he didn’t have to. The agonizing truth lingers in the air of his presence. The veracity of the situation persists like a never-ending storm, the tenacious, violent rain showing no signs of halting, leaving no room for the possibility of basking in the warm, ethereal glow of the sun.

He may have fallen out of love with you, but you were still in love with him. Desperately, in fact. Which is what led you to the conception of your ingenious 4-step plan to win back his affections.

Step 1 : Make an effort

Steve was the antithesis of a man who judged you on your appearance. He used to vow repeatedly that a person could never look more beautiful than you did in the morning.

Your face would still be riddled with exhaustion, the evidence of your tranquil slumber tucked comfortably away in the corners of your eyes, and Steve would adamantly insist that you were a veracious vision of grace and divinity.

You can’t remember the last time he’d done that.

You didn’t intend to make any fundamental changes to your appearance; You still feel a twinge of dissatisfaction when you think about Allison Reynolds in The Breakfast Club, they extracted every physical characteristic that made her unique and tried to sell that she was better off than before. Wild horses couldn’t drag you to that point. You were, however, open to the idea of enhancing some of your own preexisting characteristics.

You styled your hair the same way you did for your first date with Steve, applying a similar ample amount of lipgloss. The new dress you’ve been saving for a deserving occasion clings faultlessly to your body as you wait anxiously for Steve to arrive. It’s almost farcical, you suppose, being nervous to see your boyfriend of nearly two years. Yet you can’t shake your concern for his impending response.

The mollifying sound of your front door opening resonates through the apartment and, while you were expecting Steve’s appearance, you were confounded by the hindering addition of Dustin.

“Hey (y/n)! You look nice. Got a hot date or somethin’?” Dustin’s playful voice sounds as he brushes past you, adolescent hands juggling a variety of VHS tapes.

“Did you have plans? I thought we were supposed to hang out tonight.” Steve asks, his magnetic caramel eyes searching your own in a delicate display of adept obliviousness.

“No. No, nothing special.” You sibilate dejectedly.

“Good ‘cause it’s move night! And Steve cheaped out on snacks, so you’re gonna want to make some popcorn.” 

“Right.” You enshroud your abasement with a counterfeit smile and venture into your kitchen to make Dustin his popcorn, the familiar notes of Eye of the Tiger resounding through your apartment as Rocky IV begins playing on the tv.

So your first attempt was met with an expeditious defeat, but perseverance can be rewarding. Right?

Step 2 : Remind him of the good times

You jolt awake from your slumber, the cold sweat clinging to your body serves as a physical reminder of the macabre scenario you just narrowly escaped in your nightmare.

In an effort to suppress the unsolicited atrocities racing incessantly through your mind, you surreptitiously make your way out of the bed you share with Steve, delicately extracting yourself from the steady grip of your unconscious boyfriend’s gangly arms.

You cautiously venture down the hall to the kitchen, momentarily detouring to the living room to clandestinely place Rumours by Fleetwood Mac on the turntable, ensuring the volume is at a near imperceptible sonority so as not to rouse your boyfriend from his tranquil sleep.

You pour yourself a glass of glacial water, condensation generously gathering along the perimeter of the cup, the dull glow of the open refrigerator acting as your light source.

“D’you have another nightmare?” Steve’s sleep-riddled voice questions gingerly as he wraps his arms tenderly around your midsection from behind.

“I just want to stop seeing it in my head.” You turn in his arms to face him, appreciating how magnificently the light of the refrigerator illuminates his divinely celestial features. 

“I know,” He begins delicately, “I’m sorry for dragging you into it. You should have never been anywhere near those things-”

“Steve, it’s not your fault, okay? I need you to know that.” You interrupt before he can incur being the responsibility of your nightmares’ source. He’s not culpable for anything that came from the Upside Down.

He gazes at you solemnly, nebulous eyes emanating with immense emotion as he hesitantly nods his head.

The gentle melody of Songbird begins, floating through the kitchen, causing a lithe smile to form on your gentle lips as you appreciate the mellifluous opulence of Stevie Nicks’ voice.

“May I have this dance?” Steve asks, donning a heavenly smile.

“I’d be honoured.” You answer as he begins swaying you adeptly in his agile arms, your modest grin blooming into a broad smile.

And so the two of you danced around the kitchen, with nothing to accompany you but the gentle glow of the refrigerator light and the seraphic sounds of Fleetwood Mac on the record player.

That night solidified Songbird as your song. Which is the rationale for why you’re standing alone in the living room at one thirty in the morning listening to Fleetwood Mac.

“(y/n)?” Steve’s fatigued and perplexed voice sounds as he advances down the hallway.

“Hey.” You’re apprehensive now, equal parts regret and hesitance swim through your bloodstream like a resolute fish headed upstream in a particularly vigorous current.

“What are you doin’? It’s like one in the morning. Are you okay?” 

“Yeah, no yeah I’m- I’m fine.”

The look he gives you is filled with concern, but there’s a glimmer of something else hiding in the shadows, regret maybe? You can’t accurately discern it, and it disappears before giving you a chance to unravel its connotation.

“Okay, well, if you’re fine, I um- I work in the morning so I’m gonna go back to bed.”

“Yeah. Go ahead, I’ll turn it down. Sorry.” That wan’t mortifying at all, you introspectively reprimand yourself, feeling a sense of dejection you’re beginning to grow painstakingly familiar with.

That could have gone better.

Step 3 : Spend some quality time together

You’re veritably hoping that there’s some authenticity to the phrase third time’s the charm.

Adorning a particularly whimsical sundress, you sit contentedly on the plush blanket you’ve laid atop the flexible sage grass in the park, ardently awaiting Steve’s arrival.

Your previous attempts to re-obtain his affections have been met with the abrupt emergence of failure, but the outcome of this experience was going to be different. What could go awry at a picnic?

“Hey. You look nice.” Steve’s symphonic voice sounds from above you, as he assuredly makes his presence known.

“Really? Thank you. So do you.”

Steve respires an exiguous chuckle at your response, taking a seat parallel to you on the thin blanket. You can’t contain the smile that accumulates on your face, outwardly displaying your pride at the small victory.

“So, how was your day?” You inquire earnestly, handing him the sandwich you prepared for him.

“Thanks. It was good. Y’know, busy. People really love their movies.” 

“How’s Robin? I know how much she-” “Steve! (y/n)! Hey!” Dustin’s voice reverberates through the air, effectively silencing your queries.

Seriously? There’s no way this is happening. Again.

“Hey! Dustin’s here! Look at that (y/n), what are the odds?” Your boyfriend’s usually endearing rambling holds a discernibly nervous undertone.

“I don’t know Steve, what are the odds?” You question, failing to cultivate eye contact as he’s currently preoccupied with looking anywhere besides your eyes.

“Gotta be one in a million! So weird,” Dustin lightheartedly interjects, “Actually, it’s a good thing that you’re here Steve, ‘cause I really need you to come help me with something.”

“What- Seriously? Now?” 

“Yes, (y/n), now! It’s very important stuff. Could be life or death.” Dustin emphasizes his point with resolute hand gestures.

From the repentant look in his sparkling eyes, you’ve already predetermined Steve’s next words.

“Go.” You preempt, dispiritedly.

Your boyfriend’s saccharine eyes are filled to the brim with a myriad of unidentifiable emotions as he scrambles onto his feet, sandwich still clasped between his lithe fingers, his smooth sorrowful voice mumbling a doubtful vow, “I’ll make it up to you, okay?”

“Yeah. Okay.” You nod pessimistically.

“Do you mind if I just grab one of those sandwiches? ‘Cause they look delicious.”

You hand Dustin a sandwich, temporarily suppressing each melancholy thought running around in your mind as you give him your best attempt at a smile.

“Sweet! Thanks.”

Third time was, decidedly, not the charm.

Step 4 : If all else fails, profess your interminable love

Step four was only ever thought of as a contingency. Existing solely for emergency use only. The invocation of this step means that there was a significant lack of reception to the previous three steps. You’re feeling particularly grateful that your antecedent self had included a backup plan.

“Oh hey, I didn’t think you’d still be up.” Steve’s delicate voice holds an air of surprise as he shuts the front door behind him, swiftly removing his jacket and shoes.

“Yeah,” You start, fiddling with your fingers in an effort to calm the anxiety coursing ferociously through your veins, “I thought maybe we should talk.”

“Talk? About- About what?” 

“About um- just us, I guess.”

Steve’s stately features are shrouded in a warm cloak of confusion and uncertainty.

“Are you- Please don’t say what I think you’re going to say.” He pleads after a moment, finally shattering the suffocating silence.

“What do you think I’m going to say?” It’s as though you two have traded emotions, now it’s you who stands perplexed as your boyfriend gently paces the floor in an attempt to reduce his anxiety.

“You wanna break up, right? You don’t want to be with me anymore. Everything’s too complicated now, isn’t it? All the monsters and shit, it’s just too much. I know it is.”

It takes you a few moments to wrap your head around his words. You want to reassure him, as tenderly as possible, that his assumption couldn’t be any further from the truth. Instead you say, “Are you crazy? Did you hit your head or something?”

“Did I-? What?”

“Steve, I’m not breaking up with you! I’d never break up with you. I just spent the last week trying to get you to fall back in love with me!”

You both go still at the nuance of your sudden confession. Steve’s chestnut eyes are filled with salty unshed tears as he takes gentle, purposeful steps toward you.

“Fall back in love with you? (y/n) did you hit your head?” He places a delicate hand on your cheek, nimble thumb grazing your satin skin in a circular motion as he continues, “I love you, okay? I love you so much that I don’t even know how to think straight.”

You place your hand over his own as it traces the curvature of your face. Your heart is pulsating so immensely furiously that you’re shocked it hasn’t beaten entirely out of your chest and fallen onto the floor where you stand. 

“Then- then why have you been avoiding me? Like every time we’re supposed to hang out, Dustin magically appears out of nowhere! It feels like you never want to spend time with me anymore, especially alone.”

“Oh my god. I didn’t- That’s not what it was, okay! I just-” He sighs, moving his gaze earnestly down toward his feet before bringing it back up to your eagerly awaiting eyes, “I got worried. After all this monster stuff. I mean, you’ve been having nightmares! And I know you say it’s fine but it’s not! And I was just- I was worried that you’d realize it was my fault and you wouldn’t want to be with me anymore.” He exhaled deeply, once again dropping his gaze from your own.

“Steve,” You start, benevolently tilting up his chin in order to greet his warm chestnut eyes with your own resolute ones, “I would have a million more nightmares if it weren’t for you. You saved my life, okay? In every single way. And I already told you that none of that monster stuff is your fault! So I guess I’m just going to have to keep telling you as many times as it takes for you to believe it. Because I’m not going anywhere. Ever. Sorry to break it to you but, you’re stuck with me Harrington.”

“Good. ‘Cause that’s exactly where I want to be. Always.” Steve fixes you with an angelic, rapturous smile before bringing you into the solace of his steady, comforting embrace. 

“I love you too, by the way. Just in case it wasn’t obvious by now.” You mumble into his shoulder, intent on remaining in this position as long as possible.

“I know.”

“Take it down a notch, Han Solo.”

Steve chuckles euphoniously before pulling back to give you a lingering, ardent kiss. It was filled with emotion, longing, and passion, and oh boy did it take your breath away.

“You wanna keep doing this, or did you need to go call Dustin?”

“Shut up.” He mumbles reverently, bringing you in for another godly kiss.

Your contingency plan was a resounding success.

Mission accomplished.

[taintedcigs]

how do you think stevie would act around shy and inexperienced reader? like would he tease her about being shy or? <3

omg if u were dating/friends he totally would!!!!😭 he’s such a lil shit i love him💗 idk if this is what u wanted but!!! also this turned dirty so quick im sawrry😔 warnings: nothing much but kinda smut (it is insinuated)!!! but rlly not, 18+ ofc as all my other works<3

ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

“How does this look?” You hummed, exiting the fitting room as you looked at the mirror.

Tip-toeing as you adjust the emerald dress that fit you perfectly, your curves were showing and your breasts were squeezed tight together.

You fidgeted with the hem of the dress nervously, your usual clothes didn’t fit you this well, and the dress was a little too revealing, avoiding eye contact as you awaited Steve’s input anxiously.

Your head cocked toward Steve’s direction when he didn’t answer, he was leaning against the wall, mouth agape as he looked at you dumbfoundedly.

Your mind reveled before you could help it, the idea that Steve thought you looked ridiculous was planted in your head now and you wanted to disappear.

“Holy shit,” He murmured, gaze lingering on you as he traced your curves, trying to memorize every part of you, gulping as he shook his head in disbelief.

The thought of Steve not liking it made you frown. “W–what?” You stuttered, looking down on your dress again shyly.

“You have no fucking idea how insane you make me, baby.” He whispered as he inched closer to you, hands itching as they grabbed onto your hips, making you squeal.

“Steve!” You chided, giggling.

“You look perfect, honey.” He added, planting soft kisses on your exposed skin.

“So perfect,” He muttered and now you were sure you could feel the heat on your cheeks.

“Drivin’ me crazy.” He groaned as he planted a sloppy kiss on your lips and you mewled.

“We’re in public, Stevie.” You warned, but it wasn’t convincing at all.

“So?” He shrugged, causing you to look around.

“So… you can’t do all of… this.” You murmured, voice growing quieter and quieter.

A smug smirk appeared on his lips, “What can’t I do, princess?” He mocked, pouting.

Before you could answer his hands travelled from your hips to your ass quickly, giving it a quick squeeze causing you to yelp, “Steve!” You lightly slapped his shoulder, causing him to chuckle.

You bit your lower lip, nervously tucking a strand of hair behind your ear as you rubbed your thighs together out of need, Steve took notice of that quickly and tilted his head slightly.

“My perfect girl, mhmm.” He whispered in your ear as his fingers ghosted over your thighs which were trembling at this point.

You gasped softly when he did so, cheeks growing hotter with each of his movements. “Some—someone is going to see.” You stuttered, cocking your head to see if anyone else was there, and Steve took this as an opportunity to give your neck sloppy kisses.

You mewled under his touch and Steve chuckled darkly, “Stevie!” You breathed, warning him again and he faced you.

His gaze was intense and yours was so innocent that he felt bad for teasing you this much, he gave you a warm smile as he pulled his hand away.

You whined. “I’m just teasin’ honey,” He winked, causing you to let out a nervous giggle as you felt your cheeks heating up, for the 100th time.

“So… what do you think?” You asked with the biggest smile on your face as you gave Steve a twirl, causing his eyes to widen.

He admired you with a look of sheer awe in his eyes, you were gorgeous, so fucking gorgeous.

And you looked angelic in that tight dress, making Steve dizzy.

“Perfect, honey.” He said, gaze never wavering from you.

“You are totally getting that dress.” His eyes darkened with lust.

“And when we get home, I’m gonna fuck you in it.”