come right on me...i mean, camaraderie

[cakedupkeery]

☆ welcome ☆

cake • she/her • 30s

this is my fun place to hang out and practice writing again with no pressure so...no ai fics here and if you are reading my writing, don’t feed it to ai/repost it as your own/etc.

this is an 18+ blog and i do write smut so mdni. ageless and blank blogs will be blocked.

my ask box and dm’s are open, come say hi :)

☆ masterlist ☆

steve harrington:

my desperate gir 573 words, porn w/no plot

sweet on you (rewritten) 2.4k words, watching your cute coworker strike out romantically all day should be a turnoff. not for you, though, because today might finally be the day you finally get what you want

sweet on you (original) 2.1k words, watching your cute coworker strike out romantically all day should be a turnoff. not for you, though, because today might finally be the day you finally get what you want

divider by @honeyluvsw

[kosmogrl]

what do you mean I can't control everything, why not

[stevenose]

summer breeze (18+)

part of the august writing challenge

today’s word: pool

contents: gender unspecified reader; reader with a vagina; high!steve x higher!reader; forced close proximity; teasing and flirting hehe; fingering; dry (wet?) humping; copious amounts of dirty talk; steve coming in his damn swim trunks

wrote this for an anon who sent a very sexy ask!! thank you diva!! 🫶🏻

it was such a nice night. a starry night, no clouds in the sky save for the smoke flowing out of your lips.

this is fun, you’d thought to yourself, lost in your own little world while everyone else talked quietly. i don’t know why i was so nervous.

eddie had convinced you to join with the promise of weed and swearing he never had an issue with the police at the community pool. assured you that he had snuck in there a dozen times and didn’t run into trouble once.

and, also, steve would be there. so you succumbed to the peer pressure, wore a bikini under your shorts and shirt, and only loosened up when the weed hit your system.

“you with us?” steve asked, swimming over to you, resting his crossed arms against the pink plastic of your pool float.

you nodded slowly. steve looked so pretty, the ends of his hair wet, eyes shining, cheeks pink from a sunburn. and you wanted to sink your teeth into his bicep so badly.

“you promise?” he asked, holding out his pinky.

you laced your finger through his and stared into his eyes a little more.

this thing between you and steve was not, and could not be, defined. you’ve been incessantly flirting with each other for the last two months, going to far as to shotgun smoke into each other’s mouths. all teasing, no reward, except for your own smugness.

you really liked it, whatever it was.

eddie suddenly started to shush everyone, perked up like a hunting dog.

“someone’s coming.”

ever so rational, steve said, “it’s probably just the neighborhood watch.”

“how is that better?” you whispered.

a siren whooped, blue and red lights flashing, and a rather non-intimidating voice shouted out.

eddie put his joint out on the concrete and pulled himself out of the pool.

“SCATTER!”

you were way too high for it, so steve helped you out. pulled you out of your float and hoisted you onto the side of the pool before crawling out himself. he helped you up, then grabbed your hand and started running.

and now, you’re stuck in a supply closet that hardly accommodates the both of you. the walls are lined with big buckets of chlorine tabs and shock. the little light inside is provided by a dimming, flickering lightbulb nearing the end of its life.

due to the size, you and steve are pressed against each other, with your front against the door and steve’s chest pressed against your back. he doesn’t know where to put his hands, so they’re placed on the door beside your head, caging you in.

“christ, my lungs hurt,” you whisper, still trying to catch your breath.

“well, you did suck down a whole joint by yourself.”

smiling, you elbow him softly, but he still groans.

“shh!”

“i’ll be quiet when you stop beating me up!”

you shake your head at the theatrics and press your ear to the door. the adrenaline is wearing off, and your weed is making you feel heavy again. sleepy.

“you with me?”

you nod. “i pinky promised, remember? i’m just tired, and i really wish you picked a bigger hiding spot.”

“oh,” he grins. “is there a problem being so close to me?”

his hands move from the door to rest on your waist.

“because i feel like you’ve been waiting for an opportunity like this.”

“relax,” is the only thing you can think to say.

“i’ve been waiting. for way too long now, actually.”

steve grinds against you. he’s hard.

“and i’ll tell you the truth, honey, you’re driving me crazy in this little number.”

his finger dips into the waistband of your bikini bottoms, letting it snap against your skin.

you swallow hard. “we’re gonna get arrested and that’s what you’re thinking about?”

he scoffs softly, ducking his head to press his lips against the shell of your ear. “we won’t get arrested if you stay quiet.”

you contemplate, gnawing on your bottom lip. he has an effect on you that makes you feel floaty, a little stupid, a little spontaneous.

“we don’t have to,” he whispers, arching his hips away from your ass. “i’m sorry, i just thought —“

you reach back, grabbing his hip and pulling him back against you. his body is warm and soft and he smells like summer.

“stop waiting, then.”

with what sounds like a sigh of relief, one of steve’s hands snakes its way down to cup your cunt. you gasp, not expecting him to jump right to the chase. though you don’t mind.

“gonna stay quiet for me?” he asks, his lips pressing against the side of your neck.

you shiver again, from his touch this time. “i can try.”

“good.” his fingers trace up and down your lips through the wet fabric of your bottoms. “would be pretty embarrassing if we got caught. ‘nother charge for us. think they’d throw us in the same cell?”

slender fingers dip under the crotch of your bikini and you sigh when the tip of his middle finger coaxes up and down your pussy.

“jesus,” steve breathes. “you feel so good.”

he moves his finger down, towards your opening.

“can i?” he asks softly.

you nod.

he slips in. you gasp loudly and he has to cover your mouth again. without his hands holding him up, you’re squished between him and the door. no where to escape.

it’s delicious.

“i’d fuck you if you weren’t so tight.”

something about the casualness of the way he says it makes you clench.

steve whispers in your ear, his finger fucking in and out of you. “you like it when i talk like that, huh?”

you nod.

he mouths hotly at your neck, groaning low and soft with each push of his finger.

“know you’d feel so good on me. cock’s been aching for you for months.” he breathes through his teeth. ruts into your ass. “little tease.”

more commotion outside. you’re too blissed out and too high to care very much, but you do freeze up a bit.

steve notices.

“it’ll be okay,” he says, slowing his movements. “you’re okay. worst they’ll do is tell us off.”

you nod again. it’s a little bit bizarre to you, how much you trust him. how much safer you feel with him, when this is probably the most time you’ve spent with him. ever.

“do you want to keep going? we can stop.”

you shake your head.

he moves his hand away from your mouth. “tell me.”

you sigh. his finger is still buried inside of you. “you may continue.”

you both giggle, but then steve’s moving again, putting his hand over your mouth prematurely.

it feels so good. he finds your sweet spot quicker than you thought possible, curling his finger to brush against it.

“help me out,” he whispers. “touch yourself, rub your clit for me.”

that’s too much. that’s what makes you moan loudly, your hand moving down and slipping past your waistband, rutting back to grind against his cock.

“don’t,” he hisses, “gonna make me cum in my trunks.”

you let out a little laugh-moan. the weed makes you feel fucked up enough that you’d honestly be happy to lick him clean.

so you keep doing it. and steve keeps grinding against you.

“can i kiss you?”

surprised, you nod. he pulls your face towards him, twisting your upper body to meet his lips. it’s tender, makes his finger pause. you both get lost in it, but then he starts moving again. he keeps his mouth on yours, sealing in your moans.

“i’m close,” you whimper.

“that fast, huh?”

“shut up.”

smiling, steve chokes back a groan. “do it for me, honey. wanna see how pretty you look.”

your body tenses. you pant into steve’s mouth, trying hard to keep your noises in. you reach back to grab his hair and you tug on it, pushing his lips against yours again.

it’s his turn to be loud. he fucks himself against your ass, groaning, kissing you messily.

with both of you going over the edge, you don’t care about the noise. you can’t care about the noise.

you’re both panting after. total messes. smelling like sweat and chlorine and sex.

“holy shit,” you decide to say.

“yeah,” he agrees. “holy shit.”

once you’ve caught your breath and attempted to tidy yourselves up, steve pokes his head out of the door.

“i think we’re in the clear.”

“you’d better be right, harrington. would hate to have to share a cell with you.”

steve scoffs. you both step outside. you’re freezing, still wet, the night breeze making you shake.

“now what?” you whisper.

steve hums. “well, we have to get you out of this wet bikini, don’t we?”

[djobriens]

screaming at these 'keys' costume fittings

[cherrydjosblog]

hey so...fingers😜

[moonstoneandmoonlight]

so keys is a index and middle finger kind of guy. noted.

[cakedupkeery]

okay buuuuut, hear me out here: that right hand ring finger is all aflutter so…idk, i think keys might be a middle and ring finger guy

[kassy-djomunson]

rockstar boyfriend

[lofi-fics]

Baron, long haired version! I trust you with the rest

Oh, you mean my sweet boy that's never done nothing wrong in his whole life? My HEADCANON GOOD OL' TEXAS BOY????

Sure.

(this ended up being more fluff than smut, but how can it not be when he's soooooo damnnnnn fluffyyyyyy 🧡🍊 ily Mr. Lamram)

You went to school with Baron, grew up in the same itty-bitty hicksville in east Texas, and work in buildings across from one another. He managed to snag a cozy job at the post office, while you worked at the feed store, loading huge pellet bags into trailers for the local farmers and helping roll out hay bales.

Whenever he'd leave out on his bike to deliver the few parcels he had, he'd always try and sneak a peek at you in your tight-fitting denim jeans, boots swallowing up the cuffs and hugging your calves, and usually a small, loose-fitting top that would billow up in the rare summer breeze and show a flash of your lower stomach.

Then you'd steal sidelong glances at his lovely, long, deep-brown hair blowing back from his deliciously biteable neck, and his shorts riding up his muscular thighs.

Today on your break, Baron's wandered across the street to chat, holding two glass bottles of soda -- orange for him, cherry for you. Same as always.

You take it and clink the necks of your drinks together before taking a long, greedy swig. A bead of the condensation drips off the bottle onto your chest, and Baron watches like a hawk as it slides down your cleavage.

"Thanks, Bear. How's yer Mama?" You ask, swiping your mouth with the back of your hand.

"Aw, she's alright. Thanks fer askin'. What about yer Paw?"

You shrug, not even bothering with a lie for niceties sake. Baron just nods quietly, smiling at you out of reflex and Southern politeness, but his eyes are just as sad as yours. Part of why you liked him so much was that he didn't pry. He just seemed to understand what was going on inside your head without you having to say it, which was such a relief.

"Hey, didja see they's puttin' up a lil' carnival over in the West field? Got rides an' a Ferris wheel an' everythin'."

"Wow, wish I could see somethin' like 'at." He muses, eyes drifting off in a colorful daydream. Your feet dangle over the railing of the steps, as Baron stands on the sidewalk below and leans his elbows on the same railing. You nudge his hip with the toe of your boot softly and his eyes flash back over to you with a sweet, dreamy smile.

"Why dontcha come with me? I'll take ya out proper. I'll even pay yer way." You wink, knowing full-well tickets were free. He looks at you like you hung the moon, but then his brow pinches in thought.

"I gotta make sure Mama gets all settled. Can ya come'n get me 'round...8?"

Baron walks backwards across the street to the post office with a big, goofy grin on his face. You hoist yourself up and dust off the ass of your pants, making sure to turn the other way to show your most favorite mail-person what he has to look forward to tonight.

You go home and shower, scrubbing yourself of the dirt and sweat that you were sure to reaccumulate the second you stepped foot into the muggy summer evening. Your hair is a little more done-up than usual, and you even threw on a tinted strawberry lip gloss. Your linen sundress was white with decorative eyelets and tiny embroidered blue flowers. The only good shoes you owned were your work boots, so you threw those on hoping Baron wouldn't mind.

You drove your old clunker of a truck down to Baron's home and walked up the porch steps. He was outside before you had a chance to knock, practically bouncing with excitement. His eyes raked over you, taking in your exposed legs and lace-wrapped breasts. You weren't wearing a bra, so when the nighttime breeze rolled through he thinks he just might be able to catch a peek of your --

"Ya ready, darlin'?" You wave a hand in front of his face.

His jaw snaps just and he nods excitedly, following you out to your truck. He's opted for a clean white T-shirt and a well-worn pair of loose-fitting jeans that probably weren't his size. He reaches across the console to fiddle with the AC (that only works half the time) and you catch yourself ogling at the way his nimble fingers flick switches and twist knobs. You shift your thighs together in your seat and force your head to the front so you don't crash the vehicle and kill you both.

Baron's eyes twinkle with glee as he soaks in the carnival lights, the sounds and the smells. You buy him a huge pink fluff of cotton candy and he eats the entire thing in minutes. There's a little piece of the fluffy treat stuck to his upper lip, so you lick your thumb and swipe it away.

What his smile does to you should be illegal. It isn't healthy.

You drag him to the Ferris wheel -- he's hesitant, says, "Man ain't s'posed to be up that high, that's why God put our feet on the dirt," but you manage to get him seated and secured right next to you.

You lean into his ear as the ride whirs to life and tell him, "Hold my hand if ya get scared. S'alright."

He nods and swallows anxiously, eyes slightly panicked as you begin to take the first turn of the wheel. By the time you creep up to the top and pause, his eyes are squeezed shut.

"Baron...?"

He shakes his head, holding his breath.

"Bear?? Ya can't hold your breath, dummy! Just look. S'beautiful."

He pries one eye open into a squint, seeing the bustle of the carnival below. But the lights that catch his eye the most are the ones flickering above. The vast expanse of starry Texas sky is magical. The moon hangs high like a crescent, but the night is so clear you can just make out the dark side of it, too.

If you thought his eyes were twinkling before, now they're full of stars. You take his hand in yours, and he looks down at it, then at you.

"Ya scared?" He asks, concern in his voice.

You shake your head with a smile.

"Just like ya. A lot, Bear."

He leans in a fraction, inviting you to make the move. So, you do. You press your lips against his plump, slightly parted ones, instantly tasting the sweetness of the sugar still coating them. He gently tucks your hair around your ear and leaves his hand there against your face, tenderly stroking your cheek with his thumb.

You gently pull it away, and place it high on your thigh, running it ever so slightly up the hem of your dress before letting him go to explore. He tentatively keeps moving up, up, up, all the way to the point where he should feel the elastic of your underwear, but instead finds nothing but hot, wet, and wanting skin. You sigh into his mouth and he grips your plush thigh with sudden, overwhelming need.

"When's the damn ride over?" He grunts against your lips. You chuckle as the wheel begins its descent.

"Wanna go back t'my truck? We can go park at the quarry, an' --"

"Yes." He practically moans, kissing you behind your ear and making you squeal with delight. You tug him back by his long, lovely hair and look at him proper.

"Well c'mon then."

The lap bar lifts, letting you both free. Baron grips your hand and practically drags you through the crowd of people all the way back to your truck.

"It's a date, sug. Give yer Mama a kiss from me, an' I'll see ya tonight."

[plainemmanem]

Ok I’m thinking like maybe Steve’s dad makes him go into the military if he’s not going to college bc he’s an asshole, and the day before he leaves you two spend the whole day together and end up watching the sunset on the roof of his car on lovers lake and it’s just so sad. he’s thinking about the loss of his innocence and childhood, and now he has to go and be away from you for so long. you wrote him a letter and a picture of you to take with him, and you sprayed it with your perfume, and when he’s away at boot camp you two write to each other all the time and call whenever you can and when he comes back on holidays he’s all over you and buying you flowers and oh my god so tan and ripped and sexy. he’s tamed some of that hair like it’s not full mullet but it’s like those recent pictures where it’s parted in the middle and swoops down and is shorter in the back do yk what I’m talking about? but he literally missed you so much he just follows you around and can’t keep his hands off of you and maybe the whole gang threw him a welcome home party and he’s just watching you from afar and literally undressing you with his eyes because he had to imagine you every night while he was away and only had pictures to go off of (and you know he jerked off to them) and you’re just there in a pretty sundress helping set everything up looking so beautiful and such a stark contrast to when he experienced the last couple of months. The discipline and harsh brutality of boot camp can’t compare to the soft and warm energy you radiate. And you can’t help but notice how confident he seems in his abilities now and how ecstatic he is to see everyone and you can’t stop looking at how handsome he looks now that he’s literally shredded and how his arms are bulging out of his white t shirt and they look when he folds them over his chest when he’s leaning back against the kitchen counter in the middle of a conversation with Eddie and how his face looks so smooth and clean shaven and how his back muscles move when he goes to help Robin grab more plates for the kids oh my- OK IVE NEVER WRITTEN ANYTHING LIKE THIS this was just word vomit sorry if it was bad you’re turn! 😁

hnnnnnngggh arms.

he gets off the plane or whatever and you run to him at the airport and he’s literally beaming so bright, you can spot him all the way across the room. and you run into his arms and he lifts you and the first thing you notice is how much. bigger.. he is. like he lifts you with ease. and he’s holding you up off the ground and burying his face in your neck like “missed you so so much” and you just hold his head and stroke his hair and breathe him in and just revel in being able to actually touch him and hear his voice again, not just through the telephone:) and he finally drops you back to your feet and he’s looking at you like he can’t even believe you’re real, that you’re not just some photograph and a phone call, but you’re standing right in front of him. and he grabs your face with two hands and kisses you so desperately. it’s actually a pretty tame kiss, no tongue or anything crazy, but it’s the way he’s pulling your face into his like he needs to get impossibly closer to you<3 and your tummy flips because he never really liked pda before, but for right now, it literally feels like it’s just you and him in the airport. no one else even matters:(

and you drive him home and the whole time he’s turned in his seat to face you, arm propped on the door, and his hand holding his head up as he gazes over at you with a little smile because he’s still reeling from the fact you’re sitting next to him. and at every light he pulls your face to his and kisses you so deep before letting you give your attention back to the road:) and he has a hand on your thigh and he rubs the bare skin of your knee there and he’s really trying hard not to think of all the things he wants to do to you when you get home

but he didn’t realize you had a surprise party planned back at the house. so as you’re trying to put the key in the front door, he’s standing behind you and wrapping his arms around your middle and pawing at you through your dress and kissing up your neck and nibbling at your ear and whispering all the things he’s been thinking about doing since he’s seen you at the airport and you’re giggling as you open the front door and everyone yells surprise and steve’s face is complete shock and he’s all red as he rests his forehead embarrassed on your shoulder. and he whispers into the skin there, only for you to hear, “you didn’t tell me everyone was gonna be here to welcome me back” and you turn and give him a little teasing smile like “i had it planned for weeks:) ever since i heard you were coming back for the week:)” and he gives you a little “you’re lucky you’re cute” look and a little kiss on the temple before spinning you back around and slinging his arm over your shoulders as he says hello to everyone:)

and then the whole night he’s just. all over you. in a way that he wasn’t before he left. like he needs to feel your skin every moment he can before it’s gone again. so he has you drape your legs over his lap as he sits on the couch and chats with robin. and he’s massaging your shoulders as you’re chatting with nancy and everyone. and he keeps giving you little looks mid conversation, little smiles, before leaning in to give you a kiss on the corner of the mouth or on your temple. and he’s playing with your fingers absentmindedly when he’s telling everyone what bootcamp’s like. and anytime he’s not directly next to you, you keep catching him sending you hungry little glances from across the room as he’s chatting with whoever<3

and you still can’t get over how adult he looks. how all his boyish features have kind of melted away to something a little bit more mature. and he’s so so so hot. like he has his arms propped up behind him on the kitchen island and his biceps are like. huge. all flexed and huge. and his hair is a bit shorter and maybe a little more unkept than usual, but it looks so good with his little tan. and he’s getting another big bag of ice from the freezer and you can’t tear your eyes away from the veins up his forearms. and you can just tell he hasn’t really been shaving anything besides his face and your mind is swimming with the thought of what’s underneath his shirt wheeewww. and he keeps catching you staring and he teases you with a little crinkle of his nose and a slight little tug at your hair.

and after like two hours into the party, he comes up behind you and wraps his arms around your middle, caging your arms to your sides, and he brushes his nose against the pulse point at your neck and nips at the very back of your jaw just a little, and whispers in your ear “i think now might be a good time to cut the party short, hm? make it just you and me?” and he presses his bulge up against your back and your mouth literally waters at the thought. and immediately you’re like “hey guys, steve’s still pretty jet lagged from the flight, you guys mind if we wrap things up a little early🙂”

and then he literally has sex with you for the ENTIRE night, mostly in missionary, so he can hold your face and watch your micro-expressions and kiss up your neck and whisper how much he’s missed you and how bad he’s needed you for so long

[dailysteveharrington]

STEVE HARRINGTON IN EVERY EPISODE

3.04 The Sauna Test

[cakedupkeery]

how pinterest sees you:

hairstyle, animal, style, idol

thank you for @djohours for the tag <3

[cakedupkeery]

sweet on you (rewrite)

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader summary: watching your cute coworker strike out romantically all day should be a turnoff. not for you, though, because today might finally be the day you finally get what you want. wc: 2.4k cw: 18+ mdni, fluff, smut, oral (m and f receiving), fingering, masturbation, cum eating, cock biting, i think that’s all? a/n: this is a rewrite/overhaul of an older version of this fic, entirely in prose instead of screenplay format with added detail (linked here if you’re curious)

Steve was oh-for-six, according to Robin’s dry erase board, where she’d been gleefully keeping track of his flirting failures for the day. It was, admittedly, a pretty bad record for someone who’d been known as ‘King Steve’ to the student population of Hawkins High just a few short months prior. But things had changed quite a bit since then. He was supposed to graduate, go to college, and let his parents push him into a successful but boring life. Well, he’d done one of those things and now he was stuck here, slinging ice cream in this hideous sailor uniform for the foreseeable future. It was downright humiliating.

“Ahoy ladies! Didn’t see ya there!” he nearly shouted to the group of college-aged girls who had just walked up to the counter. You sat in the back with Robin, eating a bowl of vanilla ice cream and pretending not to ogle Steve through the tiny window that overlooked the whole dining area. You couldn’t help it. Any pair of shorts that gave you a good look at those hairy muscular thighs was a win in your eyes.

“What about this is attractive to you?” Robin gestured out to where Steve was failing miserably with the college girls. 

You shrugged. Then, with a mouth full of ice cream: “When do you think he last got laid?”

“JESUS. I do NOT want to think about that.” It was just so easy to get her riled up. And way too much fun. You cackled loudly.

Steve spun around from his place behind the counter, looking into the window. “Do you think maybe one of you would actually like to come out here and, I dunno, work?” Ooh, somebody was getting grumpy. You wouldn’t mind fucking the attitude right out of him.

Robin rolled her eyes, flipping him the bird. You slid out of your chair and walked around the counter, sidling up to Steve with an exaggerated southern drawl. “How ever can I make it up to you, sugar? Ice cream?” You offered him the remains of your break room snack.

“I guess,” he grinned, fingers lighting grazing yours as he accepted the bowl, sending a warm buzz up your spine. He dug in ravenously, like only a teenage boy would. Even at eighteen, he hadn’t grown out of the habit.

“You got a little something,” you gestured to an invisible spot in the general vicinity of his face.

“Where?” he asked, his brows furrowed. 

“Riiiight…” you trailed off, reaching into the bowl, “...there,” you finished, tapping a dollop of ice cream on the tip of his perfectly straight nose.

His jaw dropped, shock evident across his features. You gave him a playful smirk. You had him right where you wanted him. It was a challenge, played coyly, that said ‘And what are you gonna do about it, pretty boy?’ If the girls of Hawkins wouldn’t give him the time of day, wasn’t that just more opportunity for you?

He reached into the bowl, scooping a handful of ice cream and waving his vanilla-covered fingers at you. You backed away, giggling and shrieking the whole time. “Steeeeeeeve, noooo!”

His eyes flashed, a predator stalking his prey. He caged you in and…God, weren’t his eyes pretty? Big and shiny and expressive. Hazel up close. You caught a whiff of expensive cologne he probably couldn’t afford to buy anymore on his Scoops Ahoy paycheck.

And then you felt it: his hand swiping across the side of your face, down your jaw, freezing and sticky. You gasped with an open-mouthed smile and smacked him. “Asshole!”

He cocked his head. “What’s that? You want some more?”

“Don’t you dare.” An empty threat if you’d ever made one.

He lunged at you with another handful. You reached out to block his hand, maybe give him another little smack. Too late. He was already painting your lips with ice cream. Smug bastard. Smug, hot bastard. You looked him dead in the eye, grabbed his hand, and worked his ring and middle finger into your mouth, swirling your tongue around them and pulling off with a pop.

His jaw went slack, pupils dilated, hand frozen mere centimeters from your mouth. Suddenly, the air-conditioned ice cream parlor felt like it was 100 degrees and neither of you seemed to remember what was so funny just a couple short minutes ago. 

He cleared his throat and pulled his hand away like he’d been burned. “Do you want like…a napkin? Sorry. I just–napkin?”

“Yes, napkin. Thanks.” But your eyes were locked on him, the way he was fighting the blush creeping up his neck, the way he shook his shoulders out as he walked into the back.

He came back with a wet paper towel, offering it to you meekly. Your voice dropped to barely above a whisper, forcing him to lean in. “You made the mess. Clean it up.” 

You tilted your head up, giving him easier access to the scene of the crime. His hands trembled as he gently wiped the remainder of the ice cream with the paper towel.

He couldn’t help but notice the faint blush across your cheeks, the delicate features that adorned your face. Perfect, full lips now coated obscenely in white. Lips that he couldn’t help but picture wrapped around his–fuck. No. He told himself to think of something else. Anything. Baseball cards, grandma, the stupid Scoops Ahoy uniform…your Scoops Ahoy uniform, perfectly hugging every curve. Annnd now he was picturing you naked. Shit.

“You’re gonna get me fired,” he blurted out.

You batted your eyelashes at him and pitched your voice just a tad higher. “How come? I was playing nice.”

“‘Cause you’re a troublemaker.” You snuck a peek at the now very-obvious semi he was sporting. What you wouldn’t give to see it in all its glory.

“Well, if you’re looking for more trouble…or, you know, a little relief…you know where to find me.” And with that, you flounced away, swinging your hips freely, leaving him to ache in his cute little uniform shorts.

***

You were on your knees, locked in the employee bathroom, face to face with Steve’s bare lower half, his briefs and shorts carelessly bunched up at his ankles. And damn if he wasn’t even better than your imagination. Long and thick, the swollen tip an angry pink. You could almost feel the ache in your jaw before you even opened it.

“Damn.” And it came out shakier than you expected. 

He smiled coyly. “Yeah?”

“Steve.”

He just laughed. You flicked the hem of his shirt up, peppering kisses below his navel, moving to his hip, then his inner thigh. His hungry eyes followed your every move, his cock painfully hard and leaking with precum. You took him in your hand, swiped your thumb over the weeping slit at the tip, and spread his arousal generously over his length. His breath hitched. “Oh my God.”

You grinned. Then finally, mercifully, you took him into your mouth, tongue swirling around the head, hand stroking what you couldn’t fit in your mouth. You were immediately overwhelmed by the heady taste. He groaned, low in his throat. “Shit, that’s good.” “Yeah? You like that?” you asked, tapping it on your tongue a couple times, before enveloping it with your warm, wet mouth again.

His hands fluttered helplessly at his sides, like he didn’t know what to do with them. You took both and shoved them haphazardly into your hair. “S’okay?” he slurred.

“Yeah, it’s okay. I like to choke on it,” you smirked up at him. At that, his cock twitched hard. You just giggled and took him deeper until you could feel him touching the back of your throat. The weight of his hands felt heavy on your head, not pushing, just resting, allowing you to take control. The fact alone had your core dripping with arousal.

Spit bubbled at the corners of your mouth. Messy. Obscene. You looked up at him through your lashes at your head bobbed quicker. Deeper. Fucking your throat with his cock now. Nose touching his pelvis, gagging on it.

He screwed his eyes shut. “Fucking hell. You keep doing that, I’m not gonna last.”

“So don’t.”

You grazed your teeth gently down the shaft. He shivered. “Too much?” you asked, looking up carefully.

“Uh-uh.”

“Steve?”

“Yeah?”

“Can I bite it?”

He nodded frantically with wide eyes. You gently sunk your teeth into his meaty length from the side, stroking him near the head, fingers tracing around his slit again. His breathing was getting more frantic. You licked a stripe up the underside, fondling his balls as you went back to deepthroating him.

He was babbling nonsense now. “So good–fuck. I’m so close…keep doing that. Don’t fucking stop. Yeah, there’s my little cockslut. Good girl.” He was so close you could feel him twitching violently, sending a fresh wave of arousal through you. You were so fucking desperate for friction on your throbbing pussy.

“Fuckfuckfuck, I’m gonna cum–” You hummed around him. A long, low vibration. He clenched suddenly, shooting hot ropes of cum down your throat. Enough to fill your mouth too. Salty, thick, and a little bit sweet. You swallowed some and let the remains of it sit on your tongue.

“Have you ever tasted yourself before?” you asked, curling your tongue to hold it in your mouth. He shook his head slowly. “Do you want to?” He nodded, eyes darkening.

He helped you up and you fisted your hands into the front of his uniform shirt, pulling him in for a kiss. It was hot and messy, sharing his cum like it was something sacred. “Fuck…that was hot,” he whispered, breathing still ragged. He was so lightheaded he needed a minute to recover.

“Your turn,” he murmured, redressing himself carelessly and sinking to his knees. He made quick work of your uniform shorts, rubbing the wet spot in your panties and kissing your clothed slit, tongue peeking out to kitten lick you.

“Can I?” he asked, looking up for approval. You nodded, chest already heaving, and with that, he pulled your panties off in one swift motion and lifted one of your legs over his shoulder. 

“Holy shit. She’s so pretty. And dripping. All this for me?” He traced the wetness between your legs with his thumb, holding your pussy lips open to see your hole. He couldn’t wait to make it clench. He blew the tiniest bit of cool air on your pussy, sending a shiver through you.

“Ste–eve, don’t tease me.”

“Gotta tell me what you want then, pretty girl.”

“Fuck. Your mouth.”

He breathed you in deeply. “Fuck, you smell so good.” Then, licking a broad, flat stripe up your slit, he added, “Taste so sweet too.” His tongue circled around your twitching clit, then back through your velvety petals. He sucked one of the lips into his mouth, then the other. He flicked his tongue over your entrance, feeling you shudder again and again. He brought his tongue to a point and began shallowly thrusting into your pussy. You took a fistful of his hair, alternating between pulling and lightly scratching his scalp.

“Feels so good.” “Yeah? You want more?” he asked, his voice sending vibrations through your pussy.

“Please.”

He brought his middle finger to your core, dragging it through the wetness and plunging easily into your hole. “You like that?”

“More…moremoremore please.” You were breathing hard now. He added a second finger, scissoring you open. You didn’t even really need him to. You were so turned on it was barely a stretch. Felt fucking good too. He curled his fingers into that spongy spot on your front wall, earning a cry from you. And just having him so close, touching you, focused on your pleasure, left you teetering on the brink of an orgasm.

You brought your fingers down to your clit while he worked his fingers inside you. He swatted your hand away, replacing it with his thumb. His middle and ring finger thrust into your clenching hole with reckless abandon, squelching obscenely while his thumb rubbed quick, tight circles on your clit. The pressure built in your fluttering pussy while you chanted his name like a prayer. “Steve, Steve….ugh, fuck. Steve, Steve mmmmm…”

“Yeah, that’s it. Squeeze my fingers. Just like that.” And just like that, you were tumbling over the edge, orgasm crashing over you in white hot waves. You moaned loudly, rocking and grinding through it, walls pulsating with each wave until finally the aftershocks were small enough that you could open your eyes and catch your breath. He pulled his fingers out slowly, careful not to overstimulate you, and sucked them clean.

“Holy shit,” you breathed out, hands still tangled in his hair.

“Holy shit?” he grinned.

“Don’t get cocky.”

“Too late.” He was absolutely beaming now as he helped you back into your underwear and uniform shorts with great care. You couldn’t help but admire him in your post-orgasm haze, the planes and long lines of his body. And his skin. Jesus, he was almost glowing. You wondered what his dick would feel like inside of you, dragging against your velvety walls until you were writing beneath him. Maybe on a bed, even. You hadn’t even fucked the guy and you were already greedy for him. You needed to cool down. Maybe with more ice cream.

Throttling yourself back to reality, you whispered, “You think Robin will notice how long we’ve been gone for?”

“Robin took like, a forty minute break. It’s okay for her to actually do something, you know.” You both laughed.

“I just don’t wanna get caught at work. That’s like, so embarrassing.”

He raised his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, fiiine. I guess we have to go back out and work now.” As he unlocked the bathroom door and slipped out, he turned back to you. Quieter, more vulnerable. Almost shy. “Can I um…can I take you out? Like maybe to the fair on Friday?”

“Like a date?”

“...yes? I mean, unless this was like a one-time thing and you’re not interested. Or you’re just interested in sex. Which is cool too…” He was furiously blushing. The guy that just came down your throat and had you unraveling above him was suddenly bashful. And the sheer sweetness of it made your stomach flip.

“No, yeah. I’m–I’m interested.”

“In sex or in me?” He was teasing now.

“Both.”

He tapped his finger to his temple, nodding slowly. “Good to know. Then…it’s a date, pretty girl.”

dividers by @saradika-graphics

[cavaliercatalina]

He’s crazy

[cakedupkeery]

10 people you’d like to get to know

thank u @moonstoneandmoonlight for the tag <3

last song: stacy’s mom by fountains of wayne

currently watching: about to start every year after and we’ll see if it’s hot garbage or just mild garbage (if it’s really good i’ll be shocked, which is a bummer bc i actually loved the book)

current obsession: setting up a craft room!!!

currently reading: girl on girl by sophie gilbert - super interesting and, at times, disgustingly graphic, exploration of misogyny/infantilization/objectification through the lens of celebrity and pop culture over the last 30-some years

currently working on: steve x theatre!girly if it ever gets finished

currently wearing: gray "from director greta gerwig” shirt in the pink barbie font, black shorts (always shorts)

last google search: lars and the real girl (it’s streaming for free on yt and tubi 🙂‍↕️)

favorite flower: daisies, and i do love the white ones, but specifically gerbera daisies

no pressure tags (sorry if you’ve already been tagged): @djohours @snoopyharrington @assumedcryptid @jediavengers @gatorsleftnut @girlfailurearchivist @headoverharrington @chestharrington @harringtonkeerys

[snoopyharrington]

thinking so deeply about being at some stuffy, fancy dinner that you don’t wanna be at and sitting next to steve (probably something that each of your parents forced you into) and he can tell that you’re just about dying in your seat, shifting every two seconds, trying not to yawn because your mom will scold you.

so he politely asks one of the waiters for a pen and pad of paper and you don’t even think twice about it bc you don’t even really know steve, you just tend to exist in each others universes, and it’s only then that you feel a gentle tap on your knee and he’s pushing the notepad in your lap. when you look down, you see the word “hi :)” messily scrawled across the paper.

a small smile forms across your face as you quickly write back: hey there :-)

this thing blows, steve replies. I got in trouble for trying to order a beer. I feel like I’m 17 again :(

you giggle softly at his little frowny face. you hear steve chuckle from beside you as the rest of the smarmy dinner party treks on.

you spend the rest of the night secretly passing notes to each other. the last one steve writes has his landline number on it, followed by the words call me.

you try not to let your entire body flush at that.

[horsecockharrington]

[sleepygayart]

[graywrenhart]

“say you want me, im yours”

STEEEEVVEEEEEE

one of the boys

pairing: steve harrington x college!female!basketball!reader

summary: Steve Harrington pisses you off all the time. But this time, it's different. Maybe it's time to remind him that even though you're the best shooter on his pick-up team, you are most certainly not one of the boys.

a/n: thanks for joining my 3k follower special! hey, so, do you care if I make this fluff instead of smut, add in a smidge of angst, and take complete liberties with the original quote because I got inspired? no? okay thankssss!!! 2k words

Okay, that’s it. 

You know, you’re no stranger to locker room talk. It’s a normal part of playing pick-up basketball with college boys. But after ten minutes of Steve Harrington gushing about his latest conquest’s perfect tits, you’re starting to get fed up. 

Steve’s under the basket, chest hair on full display since the boys insisted on going without shirts because of the heat. 

You wish you had that luxury.

Beads of sweat roll down your back, dampening your T-shirt. You’ve got the sleeves rolled up, at least. But between the sun beating down on the outdoor court on campus and the glistening pecs and abs surrounding you, you’re definitely getting... overheated. 

You grab the rebound and crouch low, guarding the ball as Blake runs up to set a pick for you.

“…and oh my God,” Steve groans, still running his mouth. “You should’ve seen the way she—”

“Shut up, Harrington,” you snap. “Nobody wants to hear about that.”

Carson dodges Blake, and taking advantage of your distraction, steals the ball. Adrenaline knifes through you and you tear after him, slapping it out of his hands right before he goes in for a layup. 

The ball flies out of bounds, bouncing away across the court.

“Speak for yourself,” Carson calls to you as he jogs over to get it. “I liked where that was going.”

Steve moves up to guard you and plants his hands on his hips while he waits for the basketball. “You just don’t like it because you’re a girl.”

In the blink of an eye, Blake steals the ball from Carson and chucks it to you. You easily sidestep Steve and send it flying through the air. It sinks through the net with a swish. 

“You should try being more like one,” you tell Steve with a cocky tilt of your head. “Maybe then, you’d actually score.”

His eyes flick over you, slow and assessing, before a smirk tugs on his mouth. He catches the ball without looking when Carson tosses it his way.

Steve jab-steps, but you’re too fast. You know him, learned him from all the time you’ve spent playing together. The second the rubber meets your fingers you take off down the court, landing a smooth layup before he can catch you. 

Carson sighs and rakes a hand over his cropped blonde hair. “Hey, Harrington, maybe stop pissing her off?”

“No, no, by all means, keep going!” Blake says with a grin. He high-fives you as you both jog backward to guard your side of the court. “We’re almost tied, now.”

Steve shakes his head and dribbles down the court lazily. 

“Hustle,” you say with a clap. "Let's go."

He huffs a laugh. “Damn, Shooter. What’s gotten into you today?”

“Yeah, why aren’t you like this when you’re on my team?” Carson says. “I like you angry.”

Steve sends his teammate an impressively aggressive bounce pass. 

Carson scoffs as the ball nearly uppercuts his jaw. “What? She—”

“I’m fine,” you bite out, stepping up to guard Steve. “Let’s just play.”

Steve mirrors your position, feet wide, chest low, until his eyes are level with yours. You don’t know what he’s looking for, but whatever it is, he seems to find it. 

“Okay,” he says suddenly. “You and me. One-on-one. Let’s go.”

Carson groans in protest. “But—”

Blake claps his hands together, all too eager to let you steal the win for the both of you. “Yes! Okay! First to get a basket wins the game.”

A competitive thrill shoots down your spine at the idea, and you wrestle the ball from Carson’s arms before he can take it off the court with him. 

Blake slumps down onto the hot bleachers and immediately regrets it, hissing and dropping onto the ground instead. Carson follows suit, shaking his head and reaching for his buddy's water bottle. 

“We’ve gotta settle this,” Steve says. “Whatever—” he waves an arm in your direction, “—this is.”

“Don’t patronize me,” you snap. 

“I’m not! I just—did I piss you off, Shooter? I did, didn’t I?” He smirks, eyes following yours as you look away. “What’d I do?”

Suddenly, you start to feel a little stupid. 

What are you doing? This could change the entire dynamic. They could stop inviting you to play if things changed. 

You don’t want to go back to playing on the girls’ pick-up league. It’s fine, but you don’t know any of them. Not really. And with the guys…it’s just easier for you. You like the intense smack talk, and the way they challenge you with taller, stronger builds to go up against. 

You cannot screw this up. 

“You got this, Shooter!” Carson calls from the sidelines. You turn to give him a thumbs-up, but Steve slaps the ball in your arms, jarring your gaze back to his. 

“Don’t look at him,” he scolds. “Look at me.”

You glare at him and start to dribble.  

“Alright, now we’re talkin’.” Steve hikes his shorts up higher as he squats, revealing his toned thighs and crooks two fingers at you. “Give it to me.”

Sweat rolls down between your breasts under your shirt and you shiver, suddenly aware of how close your faces are. 

But you don’t have time to dwell on this, because he knocks the ball out from your hand and snatches it up before it even has a chance to bounce. You trade places with him at the top of the key, eyes locked. 

“What do you want, huh?” Steve tucks the ball out of your reach and guards it with his body. “You want to be team captain instead of Carson? That can be arranged.”

Carson throws his hands out in a why-the-fuck-am-i-being-demoted gesture. 

You scoff. “What? No, I just want—”

He shifts towards you an inch, and when you see an opening, you take it. Lunging forward, you knock his shoulder back and up, and then you’re back in possession. 

You dribble over to the free throw line and the two of you square off again. 

“Want…what?” Steve asks, continuing your sentence for you. “Want me to stop taking about girls on the court?”

That would be the reasonable answer. You should say yes and move on. But the ball continues to bounce on the concrete under your palm, and your eyes stay downcast, watching its shadow grow larger and smaller. 

You throw out your forearm as he takes a step closer. There’s a gap. You could cut straight to the corner of the key if he shifts his weight just a little—there. 

You move, and your shoulder bumps his just as he murmurs into your hair, “Tell me, baby.”

Baby. 

You trip on nothing and throw an arm out to catch yourself. The concrete burns your palm as the ball rolls away and out of bounds, but not as badly as your cheeks burn from this humiliation ritual. 

Steve chuckles. “That easy, huh?”

You leap to your feet, ignoring Steve’s outstretched hand. “Shut up.”

“A little pet name and you’re hitting the pavement?” His grin grows, and a sweaty lock of hair falls over his eyes. “Why didn’t you just say so? I could’ve been doing that this entire time.”

Your stomach drops. 

He means…to beat you. Not that he’s wanted to call you baby this entire time. Get your head in the game. 

While Blake runs after the ball, Steve turns to you. His gaze locks with yours, and it’s a fight to not let your eyes drift down to his bare, panting chest. 

“C’mon,” he says. “I need to hear you say it.”

You blink at him. “Say what?”

“You’re jealous, right? That’s what this whole thing is about?”

And there it is. Right in the open. Your hands fist at your sides, suddenly feeling vulnerable without a ball between you.

“I’m not—”

Suddenly, with a swift glance to check your teammates are still talking between themselves, Steve grabs your arm and pulls you into him. He’s so close you can smell the sweat on his skin, and it makes your eyelids threaten to slip shut. 

“Go ahead,” he whispers. “Tell me.”

But instead of mocking, his tone is sincere now. If not a little hopeful. 

Your heart thrashes against your ribs as you glare up at him. You almost chicken out. You really do. But the truth is, you’re tired. Exhausted, actually. 

“I want it.”

Steve just nods, like he knew the answer the whole time. “You want what?”

You swallow hard. How do you tell him that you want him to look at you? That you’ve been silently begging him to see you, here, right in front of him, for months. 

 “You.”

The word is nothing but a breathy whisper, but Steve smiles like you shouted it from the rooftops. 

“Good.” He gives your ass a friendly pat. “Then, I’m yours.”

Before you know what’s happening, he steps back and claps, signaling for Carson to throw him the ball. You stand there, frozen, for a few seconds before you finally find your voice. 

“What are you—what do you mean?”

Steve catches the ball easily and turns to you again. “What? You didn’t see I was trying to make you jealous? That’s really cute, Shooter.”

“You were—wait—so you—feel that way about me?”

He sighs. “You need a demonstration? Fine.”

His hand flies out and fists into your T-shirt, pulling you flush against his him. He’s so close that his chest hair rasps against the fabric with every breath, and you catch that lingering scent of his hairspray...right before his lips meet yours. 

“Hey, guys? What’s—oh shit.” Blake says somewhere behind you, but you don’t look at him.

You can’t.

Steve’s mouth parts against yours instantly, and his hand tightens in your shirt, holding you to him. It’s a messy, competitive kiss. And still, somehow…sweet as sugar. Your eyes screw shut and a whimper escapes you before you can stop it, smothered by the gentle glide of his tongue.

Carson clears his throat. You spring back from Steve and wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, cheeks burning.

Steve just smirks, smug as ever.

“Soooo, does this mean you'll stop playing with us?” Carson asks. “Orrrr—”

You snort. “You wish.”

Knocking the basketball loose from under Steve’s arm is easy work, given his current state, and you dribble once before hitting a three from the top of the key. 

Right over Harrington’s head. 

“That’s game,” you say, smiling. “Let’s run it back.”

a/n: ughhhh I want to write a sports romance so bad if you can't tell. also, dare I say this was giving king Steve??? in the best way.

steve masterlist