— 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.
2K notes
·
View notes
Hello! It's me againn and guess what 😈😈 Yes! I got another idea for Tom Riddle and m!reader 😋😋
Ekhem- so basically Tom was assigned to tutor this boy who was known for his lack of effort in class, he would sleep nor just ditched out the classes. So, as a nice Headboy he was, Tom decided to accept the task to tutor the boy and behold! The boy just sleeping the whole time Tom explain smth to him. So yeah Tom's mad n reader was like "Huh why r u mad? I don't even need tutor in the 1st place..." So Tom's gotten more mad 😔 and reader would like 🧍♂️
AHAHAHA n then as an apology, reader shows up to Tom after the exam ended n gave him his exam papers and oh boy this mf got O (Outstanding) for all the subjects, turns out the reader is able to do the school works from the beginning but he just won't do it bc he's a lazy ass bitch. Then Tom's reaction would be "🧍♂️...Yeah, i need those genes for my kids 😍"
THIS IS SO MESSY LMAO im sorry here's sum oranges for ur wonderful writing 🍊🍊🍊
Tutoring - T. R. x male!Reader
A/N: Thank you so much!! I love seeing you in my ask box! I hope this is what you were wanting 💛 Sorry about the ending lol. I couldn’t for the life of me figure out how to end it well.
I think I tagged everything, but let me know if I missed something! Fic is unedited with no use of Y/N
Anyway, have some hearts for sending me so many amazing requests! 💛💛💛💛
CW: Tom being fed up; anger; laziness; yelling; Tom gets fairly upset in this; somewhat mean words towards the reader; making up; brief compliment towards Tom; Abraxas and Tom are friends in this; Tom gets a little bit obsessed with reader; Tom’s evil plans
1144 words
It was a little known fact that Tom loved tutoring. For more selfish reasons than he’d care to admit, but he loved it all the same.
It was the rush of power he felt when a teacher came to him on behalf of yet another student. It was the pride when a student finally understood the material.
It was even the knowledge that Tom was smarter than most of the students at Hogwarts.
And yet, for all his love of tutoring, he was seriously debating quitting.
Why?
The answer was simple. You.
Tom had agreed to tutor you as a favor to Professor Slughorn. It wasn’t even for extra credit; a rare occasion of Tom being nice.
The professor was clearly fed up with you, and Tom was more than willing to take on a challenge.
And oh, what a challenge you were.
You were late to your first tutoring session, completely missed the second one, and slept through the third one.
You’d apologized, of course; but by the fourth tutoring session, it was clear you just didn’t have the motivation to study.
And it infuriated Tom.
He’d never failed as a tutor before, and he certainly wasn’t going to fail now.
When your eyes start to droop for the third time in ten minutes during your next study session, Tom’s patience runs out.
“Were you attending a party last night?” he demands, hands clenched. “What in Merlin’s name could have made you so tired?”
You startle, blearily lifting your head and rubbing at your eyes. “You think I’m cool enough to attend a party?”
It sounds like a genuine question, one Tom refuses to answer.
“What. Kept. You. Up?”
“My roommates.” You yawn and settle back into your seat. “They were having fun or something. Bein’ loud. Kept me up most of the night.”
Tom’s fists unclench. He takes a deep breath. “And do they do this every night?”
“Well… sort of…?” You fiddle with your quill. “Not every night, but…”
Tom pinches the bridge of his nose. “Talk to your Head of House about it. They’ll deal with your noisy roommates.”
“Alright.” You give him a small smile. Tom doesn’t return it.
“Now, for your potions essay…”
You slump in your seat.
But Tom counts it as a win when it takes you a few minutes longer than usual before your head starts drooping again.
You’re falling asleep yet again, and Tom has had it with you.
He slams the potions guide down on the table, startling you awake.
“Merlin, what the—“
“What—“ Tom seethes, “—is wrong with you?”
You blink, clearly taken aback. “Uhhh…”
“I have done my absolute best to ensure you don’t fail your exams next week, and you have done nothing but laze about and sleep!”
“Look, Riddle, just chill out.” You hold up your hands placatingly, giving him a weak smile. “I don’t get why you’re so upset. Professor Slughorn said you wanted to tutor me.”
“Well, not anymore! I am through with you!” Tom stands, fists clenched. “You have driven me to my wit’s end! If you’re not going to bother even trying to focus, I’m not going to bother trying to help you!”
“Hey—“
“I quit!” Tom snaps.
You stare at him, stunned. Then you cross your arms. “Well, fine! Merlin knows I never needed a tutor in the first place!”
Tom glares at you and angrily gathers his things.
It doesn’t feel good to quit. But he’s never felt so helpless before. You just simply seem to refuse to learn.
As he stalks away, though, there’s an odd pull at his heart. Maybe it was something about the unhappiness in your eyes. Or the way your fingers trembled as they gripped your quill.
Whatever it was, Tom squashes the feeling like a bug. He’s done with you. Not even a favor from Slughorn could tempt him to take you on again.
Of that, he is certain.
Tom’s sitting with Abraxas in the main hall, celebrating his exam scores. All Outstandings and Exceeds Expectations, even for Divination and Herbology.
He’s particularly proud of his O in Potions, proof that he knows the material well.
He’s just about to bite into a pumpkin pastry when there’s a soft cough behind him.
He turns, raising an eyebrow. It’s you, looking quite sheepish.
“Hey, Riddle.”
Tom purses his lips together thinly and crosses his arms. “Hello.”
You shuffle your feet and rub the back of your neck. “I know you were really mad at me,” you mumble, “But I wanted to explain myself a bit…”
“Then explain.”
You take a deep breath and pull a piece of paper from your pocket. It’s your report card for the exams.
Tom takes it, expecting to see some sort of dismal grade requiring his assistance.
But instead, what greets him is the best set of scores he’s ever seen. All Outstandings, in every class.
Tom stares at the report card, utterly baffled. “What?”
You rub the back of your neck again, not meeting his gaze. “I told you, I didn’t need a tutor. I can do the work. I just don’t like it.”
Tom slowly looks up from the report card. “You… just don’t like it…?”
You shrug. “Schoolwork’s boring. I’d rather do something else instead.”
Tom’s brain is a whirl. You were capable of doing the coursework already. More so, you knew everything well enough to get Outstandings in every class, something even he failed to do.
Tom hands you back your report card. “I owe you an apology then.”
“Nah,” you laugh softly and shuffle your feet. “Don’t worry about it. ‘Sides, you’re kinda cute all angry ‘n’ stuff.”
Tom blinks. You shrug and give him an awkward smile. “See you around, Riddle.”
“Right…” He watches as you walk away.
Then he turns quickly to Abraxas. “Malfoy, he had all Outstandings.”
Abraxas glances at him once, then does a double take. “Oh, no. I know that look. What are you planning?”
Tom grins. “Surely you see it? A brain that smart, when paired with my cunning? We’d be unstoppable.”
Abraxas glances at where you’d been standing. “Tom, I don’t know about this…”
But Tom’s mind is already at work. You already thought he was cute once… With the right sort of manipulation, perhaps he could get you to think it again.
Perhaps he could get you to fall in love with him.
“Just think about it, Malfoy. Our children would be geniuses!”
Abraxas just sighs. He shakes his head, but Tom ignores him. His plan is forming in his mind; his perfect plan to get you to fall in love with him.
With only a little bit of persuasion, he’ll get you to fall in love with him. And then you’ll be his lover forever. The other half to his genius.
And then all his plans will be perfected.
55 notes
·
View notes
im free from yakuza kiwami 2. fuck the writing in this one. this was a complete mess of pulling from the most popular generic east asian drama tropes at the time of 2006 and having it be handled by a super inexperienced writer at the helm.
i went from having no expectations, got somewhat surprised, only to end up downing alcohol and laughing hysterically before the credits rolled. so that should set the mood for how i feel about this one. thought vomit under the cut, a lot of info dump about culture incoming
yakuza kiwami 2 is pure heterosexual east asian romance bullshit.
im gonna just. describe as best as i can what i know and remember from the general media coming out from the 90s to the 2010s in around this part of the world before i just start explaining why i think this story is a mess.
so. 2 parts i swear is responsible for this rubbish.
1) East Asian Beauty Standard
the general consensus for a beautiful feminine woman AT THE TIME in this sphere is the following
be willowy thin (fat = lazy and ugly)
have black hair that ISNT short (dyed = too much individuality, too much WESTERN INDIVIDUALISM, gasp how dare!)
fair skinned (bc dark = she works in the fields and is from a lower class)
young. if you heard of the term "Christmas Cake" in japan context, yeah. (ie women over age of 25 are undesirable)
be educated and refined, bc that indicates class and femininity (failing this means shes vulgar and gasp like a barbarian)
be submissive to her male peers in the sense that her authority cannot override his at least in public (for the sake of his face)
dresses feminine and not like a man (trousers and jeans are man-ish. traditional clothing, skirts and dresses are preferred. the further back the stronger this sentiment is.)
incidentally, theres a lot of classism tied to this EABS due to sinocentric culture influences. it has to do with the chinese court system and how korea and japan copied it and a lot of the culture wholesale but. anyway. thats like over 1000 years of history in there thats not really worth detouring to rn.
and also, the worth of a man is sometimes (not always) upheld by how classy and feminine this wife of his is. as of 2024 though, this line of thought is still around in the more conservative pockets. also, the education might not matter as much these days as how deep her and her parents' pockets and wealth are.
moving on.
2) media tropes
so. off the top of my head.
if you wanted a popular romance drama in this time period, the popular offerings no matter where you looked tended to offer the same flavors of tropes.
the woman always has dark hair, is fair skinned, thin and younger than her male love interest. ive never seen this broken or subverted in my time absorbing via osmosis the dramas playing on local tv growing up in the early 2000s.
everything else about her can be subverted though. sometimes she can wear fancy pants or have short hair to indicate her strong individualism. BUT, her personality no matter how strong it begins, no matter how her intro begins will 99% of the time encounter an effect where catching feelings turns her into a meek loyal woman to her love interest.
bc she cant override his authority in this culture context.
at worst, she becomes highly irrational and even hysterical in the dramas when bad things happen. this includes things like love triangle, or a fallout of family business, drama, plot or whatever. she would cry and sometimes even die.
see: sawamura yumi. sayama kaoru.
meanwhile, the male love interest can be anything. ive seen middle aged guys to young good looking upcoming actors playing the lead, with looks varying from haggardly okay to young and handsome. it. really depends on the genre.
depending on what specific country it came from, the drama would have the male either grow, become manlier (by learning honor ig), become stupid in the name of love, but he rarely if ever actually dies. the woman effectively becomes yoshi for mario to lauch off on when they're crossing a chasm
the romance is forced. a lot of the BIG LOVE SPARK ie kissing happens in tense moments bc it builds drama, but in reality comes too fucking close to sexual assault (some of the old jackie chan movies does this iirc for slapstick even)
see: sayama getting kissed right after handling her biological father's ashes less than 24 hours ago and admitting to kiryu that shes scared. this scene right fucking here.
bc in general, the scriptwriters for popular dramas tended to be guys themselves and tended to write more human dudes. and the women in the stories are reflective of the ideal societal expectation at the time: being a Refined Housewife.
so her character development is often headed in the direction of marriage and being a stay at home mom.
if it sounds a little like tradwife bullshit, it is.
Refined Housewife
(i have massive negative thoughts about this which i KNOW for a fact is a thing bc a lot of these societal culture femininity was impressed on me as a kid in a world where it was already getting increasingly impossible to have 1 spouse be a SAHP. and also i hated the whole thing about giving face to the patriarch of the house when i personally saw so much ego dick measuring from my uncles. anyway understand that this is both a bias an a lived experience, so proceed with that in mind)
there is a problem with the Refined Housewife expectation: education.
in general, education has been a good metric to judge how classy or smart one is in asia's largely on-the-surface meritocracy based culture. people will look at each other's school first and then judge them from there, and pretty hard too.
so everyone regardless of gender will be expected to study super hard. and bc having good test scores and going to good schools looks good for the family's face, parents will often pile on tuition to the child to get them a leg up in life.
bc also no good degree from good school means no future.
but then... the woman is expected to be a housewife. 🙃 meaning... the education, her accomplishments, are kinda... tossed away in this context. put a pin in this.
it wont matter how much she studied or accomplished, bc the expectation is that the woman would marry and obey her husband, and give him face/honor that way. the kids will come eventually bc having kids = being filial to ones parents in this context.
also uh. no, having adopted kids is not thought of as being filial. continuing the bloodline is.
and if you've been paying attention, then yes, ive been skirting around the backbone of sayama kaoru's writing foundations this entire time.
Her story has been butchered so clumsily i cant even...
lets just. ugh.
she fits the EABS standard, her tropes are trying to subvert the expectations of a womanly woman in this context, she has IMPRESSIVE education and career achievements. she works in a male dominated field, and is keenly aware of sexism. she is strong, stronger than her male peers, at least we are told.
by 2006s standards, its still considered a fresh take with those alone in japan. sexism there is its own flavor of crap. (if you noticed ive not spoken about LGBTQ+ stuff at all, its bc how ridiculously BINARY the expectation is at that point in time. it still is today but less so)
however, the writing has this sense of trying to copy the popular tropes at the time while not fully understanding and dissecting them, and ends up butchering sayama's character before the romance even properly began.
i mean, for fucks sake even, sayama and kiryu has a whopping 14 year age gap. when im told these are supposed to be believable people living in japan, this is too big for me to just go 'oh ok!'. and remember the Christmas Cake thing? shes 25. (FUCKING--!!!! !!)
the problem here that i see is the writer trying to apply all of those while trying to play the tropes straight. trying to imitate. trying to make a statement but then finding out theres nothing within yourself to stand by what you want to say and backtracking.
we are told:
sayama is strong yet she goes down with 1 slap by random thugs and needing kiryu to come in and body them. because romance ig.
we are told shes a yakuza hunter but she doesnt scare a single one beyond her introductory scene.
she goes from defiant and bossing kiryu around to getting her actions overridden by kiryu and ryuji, both men, towards the end
her subtext is that shes not feminine and therefore conventionally undesirable, but then kiryu tells her shes actually feminine and therefore desired, as if its all that matters.
she becomes so stricken by grief and freaked out that she runs off solo to deal with ryuji in the most out of left pocket planning ive ever fucking seen.
and then yells as she takes out her police baton to take down the big yakuza dude, drawing attention and turning herself into a hostage.
i know the writing will fumble but i didnt expect it to fumble this bad.
for all the good the surface chemistry kiryu and sayama has, its being undermined by a fundamental failure to understand tropes and then using said tropes as a crutch so much that everything here has become a bloody mess.
this failure of over-relying on tropes without understanding them extends to yumi too. sawamura yumi was young and beautiful, and became the Refined Housewife to the Not-Male-MC and ends up regretting it, and gets killed for it.
her defining trait is that she is beautiful in subtext. thats. thats what the tattoo is. in a world where the tattoo makeths the person, thats what she is and all that she is.
dear lord.
ive read up a bit more on sayama and you know what. good that she chooses her career over kiryu. the romance would have caused both of their characters to explode with the trajectory this was heading in. ffs sayama could have had her own game. she has so MUCH potential.
and also GOOD that the writer is forced to think of kiryu in the position of the Stay At Home Parent for haruka and the orphanage down the line!!! subverting the fucking traditional BS expectation! yes!!!!!
all i got was sayama and kiryu making out before the bomb went off in front of my alcohol and salad while they're like 'eh, haruka will forgive us for dying :')'
and i ran out of alcohol.
sexism? maybe. incompetence? definitely.
hhgrhgrhrghrghrgrhgr wow this got long. ugh. guhhhhhh.
32 notes
·
View notes