come right on me...i mean, camaraderie

[cakedupkeery]

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cake • she/her • 30s

this is my fun place to hang out, lust after hotties, 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 sometimes so mdni. ageless and blank blogs will be blocked.

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☆ masterlist ☆

steve harrington:

my desperate girl 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

[graywrenhart]

SMOKE BREAK

pairing: steve harrington x reader

summary: There's just one thing Steve Harrington can't quite seem to quit.

tags: MDNI [smut] [sorta kinda exes to lovers but not really] [at a wedding] [smoking] [riding] [telling steve to quit smoking, but you secretly think it's hot] [steve blows cigarette smoke in your mouth] [king steve] [second chance] [idiots in love] [angst] [unprotected p in v sex] 1.5k words

a/n: got obsessed with joe with that damn cigarette at the tame impala concert last night, and then i saw blaize @harringtonsdiary post this, and the next thing i knew…here we are lol.

“Nuh-uh,” Steve scolds, hooking his thumb between your lips and tipping your chin back down to meet his gaze. “I know it feels so good, but you were saying something. Go ahead.”

He punctuates his words with a thrust of his hips, shoving his cock deeper inside your soaked cunt. Your thighs shake as you clamp down around him, your dress whispering against his rumpled button down.

It’s dark in this field, your only witnesses are the crickets and the moon, but you’re close enough to hear the music from the wedding reception happening just over the hill. The fairy lights strung from the trees in the distance cast a dim halo around Steve’s mussed hair as he sits on the ground with you straddling him.  

“So drunk on my cock already,” he croons, “Can’t even remember what you were yelling at me about. Jesus, you must’ve really missed me, huh?”

“Shut up,” you hiss, but your reprimand falls flat when his thumb finds your clit beneath your dress, rubbing those perfect, firm circles that have you jerking into his touch despite yourself. “It’s only been two w-weeks.”

The sharp smell of smoke fills your nose, and you watch through heavy lids as Steve lifts his cigarette to his mouth again, the end flaring bright orange before dimming again.

The sight reminds you why you came out here in the first place. 

“I told you,” you grit out, trying to ignore the way his swollen tip brushes that spot deep inside you that no one else can ever seem to reach. “R-robin sent me to get you for your best man, or man of honor—or whatever the fuck you’re called—speech, and then I find you out here doing that d-disgusting habit of yours again—” 

“Disgusting?” he interrupts with an amused huff. “You sure about that?”

And when his eyes find yours again in the moonlight, he leans back on one arm and takes another slow pull from the cigarette. His lips purse, cheeks hollowing softly and revealing those dimples you used to kiss before he woke up in the morning. 

You swallow hard, and your knees tremble in the dirt on either side of his hips, his cock twitching inside you. It’s not fair that he looks so hot doing it, too, with that smirk building at the corner of his mouth, and his tongue swiping over his bottom lip?

“Yes, Steve,” you whisper, breathy and desperate, your body arching against his. “It’s disgusting. This is why we took a break, remember? You don’t listen to me when I tell you it’s going to kill you one day—“

“God, you know what the worst part is?” he continues, tipping his head toward the sky like he didn’t even hear you. The smoke leaves his mouth in soft puffs as he speaks, drifting up towards the stars. “You keep telling yourself you hate it, because deep down…you actually like it.” His eyes drop back to yours. “Why do you think I didn’t quit these immediately when you asked, huh? Maybe I wanted to teach you a lesson.”

Despite the summer heat, a shiver rolls through you as he brings the cigarette up to his mouth again. Your breath catches as his eyes drop to your lips.

Then, he sits up and grabs your face, long fingers dimpling your cheeks and tilting your face down towards his and just…holding you there. His breath is hot against your cheek, and saliva pools in your mouth, your cunt clamping down on him hard in anticipation of his lips on yours. 

His hand under your dress slips under your thigh, spreading you wider so he can push his cock in deeper before it returns to your clit. Your mouth parts, a whimper caught in your throat. 

All it would take is one kiss to send you over the edge. Just a brush of his tongue against yours, and—

A stream of smoke hits your face. 

You jolt back on instinct, eyes burning, but Steve’s hands settle on your hips, fingers splayed possessively over your ass as he holds you against him. You cough, your walls fluttering around his length and pulling a helpless grunt from his chest.

“Goddamn it, Steve—” you croak, but he’s not fighting with you anymore.

He’s fucking up into you now, his mouth on your neck, and you work in unison to pick up the pace, neither one of you willing to stop.

Your hands fly to his shoulder for balance, but you can’t help but trace his strong arms through his shirt, feeling his muscles shiver under your touch. 

“I know what you like,” Steve says, “What you need. What turns you on. One cigarette and look at how wet you are for me.”

He’s right, you are wet. You’re practically dripping down his balls, soaking your inner thighs, and every pass over his hard, thick length is so slick and tight it draws whimpers unbidden from both your throats.

“Steve, you’re the one who dragged me into your lap out here, you think this is what I really need right now—”

“Yeah, well, you know what I really need?” he snaps, brown eyes flashing up in the dark. “I need you back in my bed every night.”

You swallow hard and your eyes drop to his lips. 

“More?” he asks, and you’re already nodding. He lets go of your hip with one hand, and picks up the cigarette again. This time, when he exhales it into your mouth, the smoke isn’t as harsh. It’s almost…sweet. Especially when you close the distance and press your lips to his. 

The familiar taste of him loosens something in your chest, and your hands fly to his hair, curling into the nape of his neck. 

His brows furrow as he kisses you back, and his arms leave your hips to wrap around you, helping you ride him quick and hard. Just how he likes it. 

“Will you come back to me, baby?” he pulls back to whisper against your mouth. “Fuck, I’ll do whatever….whatever you want. Anything, you know that—”

You kiss him again, slower this time, because the gentle press of your lips against his says more than any words can. His thumb returns to your clit, slipping under the fabric of your dress bunched around your hips, and he feels the familiar stuttering pattern of your breaths, the way your hips lock under his touch. 

“Go ahead, sweetheart, come around my cock,” he groans. “I know you need it. I need it too. C’mon, please—”

And just like that, the hot band between your hips finally snaps. You come with a muffled cry of his name, your forehead falling against his shoulder as your walls pulse around him. 

His hips jerk and you lift your head to cover his mouth with your own as his climax overtakes him and he moans, releasing deep inside you.

Your chests heave against each other as you slowly come down from the high. His cock twitches inside you, and he mouths at you neck, pulling soft whispers and promises from your lips as he tastes your skin. 

You let yourselves savor that moment—until the music stops in the distance and you remember that Robin’s looking for her best man.

He’s quick to help you up, steadying you with an arm around your waist as your legs wobble underneath you, before tucking himself back in his clothes and raking a hand through his hair.

Your gaze drops to the dying embers of the cigarette on the grass beside you, and you grind the toe of your high heel into it, smothering it into the dirt. 

“I’m still serious about you quitting, Steve,” you toss over your shoulder as you straighten your dress and prepare to walk back to the reception. 

“Fine,” he says, coming up behind you and dropping a kiss to your shoulder. His warm, calloused hand trails down your arm until his fingers thread through yours. “Just as long as you never ask me to quit you ever again.”

steve masterlist

steve taglist: @s3xytosomeone , @xoxocelestial , @another-widow , @calelundaa , @unabashedlyinlovewithyou,

@micheledawn1975 , @another-widow, @keer-y , @lacywithdrawal, @parabathigh,

@itszulli, @assumedcryptid , if you want to be added, comment here!

[moonstoneandmoonlight]

I DON'T DANCE | steve harrington

Steve Harrington somehow ends up cast as one of the lead parts in the spring musical and you're tasked with teaching him how to dance.

pairing: steve harrington x reader words: 2.1k contains: high school musical au, king!steve, enemies to lovers (maybe), fluff, sexual tension, female reader, no use of y/n, she/her pronouns for reader

author's note: request by my love @goldiwrites | this has been in my inbox for a little while and finally got an idea for it that i loved. this one is for my musical theatre girlies! also there is potential for a part two here, i have a few ideas...

to be added to my taglist | masterlist | requests page

The fact that Steve Harrington had been cast as your partner in the spring musical pissed you off. A lot.

From what you had heard, he had lost a bet with Tommy and auditioned for one of the lead roles as a forfeit. Everyone had thought it would be laugh—the star of the basketball trying to sing, making a fool of myself. And so, the day Steve had auditioned, the auditorium filled up, ready to laugh at King Steve’s attempt at an audition for a musical.

But no one—absolutely no one— had expected for Steve Harrington to have an incredible singing voice. Even you were impressed.

But still, you had thought that singing alone wasn’t enough to land the lead role.

Turns out, you were dead wrong.

And now you were spending your Wednesday and Thursday lunches trying to teach Steve Harrington how to dance and not trip over his own feet, as if rehearsals for the show with him every Tuesday and Friday after school weren’t already enough.

Plus the fact that the show would end with a kiss between your characters—well, you were beginning to regret auditioning for the show in the first place.

“Steve!” You snap at him one Thursday lunchtime in the dance studio for stepping on your shoes for the fifth time in the past fifteen minutes. “Look at where you’re going—”

“—you told me to stop looking down at my feet—”

“—yeah, well you need to make sure that your big clown feet don’t break a toe—”

“—clown feet?!”

It would have been comical, if arguing with Steve didn’t make you want to strangle him.

It was six weeks before the spring musical and four weeks into rehearsals and Steve Harrington had managed to steal every bit of patience that you possessed.

To his credit, he wasn’t that bad of a dancer. He just didn’t like to listen to you. Or maybe he just preferred you when you were pissed off at him for not taking the dance practices seriously. But who could blame you for getting pissed? To him—this was just a stupid little musical he didn’t really want to be in and to you? This musical could be the difference between whether or not you got into college.

So yeah, Steve’s clown feet and his inability to listen to you were a fucking problem.

“Yeah, clown feet,” you retort irritability as you step away from him, needing space before you resorted to physical violence. “Let’s take it from the top and don’t fucking step on my toes again.”

Steve looked as though he wanted to argue with you but the borderline murderous look on your face stops him.

At least he had some sense about him.

Steve manages to do a complete run through of the dance without stepping on your toes once. He was getting better, even you could see that. But you certainly weren't going to kiss his ass like everyone else in Hawkins High did.

"Good," you say by way of a compliment as Steve can't help but look pleased with himself.

"Just good?" Steve asks, a little incredulous, almost offended that you weren't fawning over the fact he did possess an ability to listen to you. "C'mon, that deserved more than a 'good'."

You very nearly roll your eyes. God, you could not stand this guy and you had six more weeks of having to tolerate him.

You say nothing, glancing down at your watch to avoid looking at him.

"What's up with you today?" Steve asks you, nudging your arm and making you grit your teeth. "You're crankier than usual."

You click your tongue against the roof of your mouth, wishing more than anything that you were anywhere else in the world but here before you finally decide to look at him. "I'm fine. There's nothing up with me—"

"—is it because we're rehearsing the kiss is tomorrow?"

Your breath hitches. Everything seems to go very still, except your heart that starts trying to beat its way out of your chest. Traitorous thing.

You take perhaps five seconds to come to your senses, shaking your head before letting a loud laugh.

"Of course not," you say, despite the fact that your face had started feeling a little hot. "It's just a kiss, it's not that serious."

Steve quirks a brow, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as he looks back at you. You can't help but notice the small step that he takes towards you.

"I think you're nervous," Steve murmurs, less than a foot away from you now as he looks at you with eyes that you find yourself being unable to look away from.

"Why would I nervous, exactly?" You ask him, trying to keep your voice even despite the way your heart was still pounding in your chest. “Are you that bad at kissing?”

Something in Steve’s expression shifts, looking amused instead of annoyed at your jabs like he usually would.

“No,” he says softly, his eyes flickering over your face as though he was studying every one of your features carefully. “I’ve been told I’m a great kisser.”

“Sure,” you say, unamused as you look anywhere but at his lips. “Whatever helps you sleep at night, Harrington.”

Steve smiles and then, before you can even blink—he leans in. Until his mouth is directly next to your ear, until you can hear every breath that he takes, until you can smell his ridiculously expensive cologne he wears, one that you couldn’t help but breathe in, the warm, musky vanillary scent filling your lungs.

“You wanna know what I think?” Steve asks you, his hot breath hitting your ear and making a heat that you didn’t quite know what to do with spread through your body.

You swallow, you pray that doesn’t Steve hear it. “You can do that? Well, colour me surprised.”

Steve laughs and the sound travels through you—warm and leaving your body tingling. You were having to remind yourself of all the reasons you didn’t like him—he was arrogant, he didn’t take the thing you cared about seriously and he had been stepping on your toes for the past fucking hour.

“I think,” Steve begins, his voice low and making that heat burn a little hotter inside of you. “I think you’re nervous about kissing me.”

You blink. For a moment, you don’t say a damn word. Everything in your body feels too hot and you’re quite sure that you have even forgotten how to breathe entirely.

“I’m not,” you say flatly after a beat, ignoring the way your heart was still racing from the close proximity.

“I think you are,” Steve hums, one of his large hands planting itself on your waist and making your body feel as though you were on fire, as though flames were licking at your skin, devouring your flesh. “I think you’ve been thinking about kissing me for weeks. I think you’ve heard the rumours about me and you want a taste for yourself.”

And there it was—the arrogance. God, you wanted to slap him. You wanted to slap that smug look off his face and do it again for good measure. Because he was a prick, nothing more than a hot jock who didn’t care that you had worked your ass off to get a role lead, didn’t care that your dreams of being on stage relied on this musical, something that he thought was stupid.

“You’re so fucking full of yourself,” you snap back at him, ignoring your body’s reaction to him. You tell yourself it was just biology—a hot guy this close to you? Of course you were a little bit affected.

It was just biology.

“Yeah?” Steve asks you, the hand on your waist splaying across your back, pulling you an inch or so closer. “That so?”

He was so fucking smug and his hand on your body was making you feel things you didn’t want to. Not for him anyway.

“Yeah,” you say, moving your head slightly so that you could look right at him, reminding yourself once again who you were talking to.

Steve Harrington. King Steve. Whatever else people called him these days. The guy who had things so easy that he had landed a lead in a musical without even fucking trying.

“Because kissing you will mean nothing to me,” you tell him firmly. “And I’m gonna prove it to you.”

There was a moment, the briefest of seconds where Steve falters. You catch the way his lips part, brows furrow in confusion.

“Wait, what—”

You don’t give him any kind of explanation, nor do you give yourself even a second to question whether what you were about to do was incredibly stupid.

Your hands each up cup either side of his face, your fingers brushing against the slight stubble over his jaw before you lean in and press your lips firmly against his.

Steve seems to freeze against you, your lips moving against his and turning his insides to goo.

It was only when you began to lean back, starting to pull away from him that he finally came to his senses.

Steve pulls you toward him in by the hand that was splayed across your back, his other hand cupping the side of your neck as he presses his lips against yours. His mouth was warm, soft and insistent as his lips slide against yours, a subtle wetness there that had a syrupy warmth spreading through your gut.

It should have stopped there. You should have pulled away.

But instead, you felt your lips parting almost on instinct and Steve took the opportunity to slide his tongue into the wet heat of the mouth.

Neither of you could seem to help the noises you make at the first brush of tongues against each other. Steve groans in your mouth, his hand that was resting on the side of your neck moving to cup your jaw, titling your head back gently to deepen the kiss while you let out a small gasp, fingers trailing down to fist the front of his shirt, as if trying to pull him closer.

It wasn't sweet and it certainly wasn't pretty—it was needy. It was something akin to desperation. Both of your lips slick with spit and leaving your body thrumming for more.

It was just as Steve's hand moved to pull you closer, pull you flush against him that you finally—finally—forced yourself to pull away. And Steve Harrington—King Steve, Captain of the basketball team, the Keg Stand King—his lips chase yours, capturing them for another hungry, searing kiss. One that you feel in every nerve throughout your body, one that leaves your lips tingling. Steve dives right back in, sucking on your tongue and pulling a small whimper from you.

"Knew it," he murmurs against your mouth, "I fucking knew it."

He leans back in, ready for more but you place a hand on his chest, stopping him from doing so.

Your chest was heaving, your lips bee stung and wet with a mix of your spit but you refused to give him.

"See?" You say, a little breathless as you pull away from him fully, the distance doing little to help the warmth that had spread throughout your body. "Means nothing to me."

Steve looks back at you, his hazel eyes wide and staring at you as though seeing you in a whole new light. There was something, something there in his expression that you couldn't quite read. It made you swallow and you had to look away from him.

"Nothing?" Steve asks, trying to catch your eyes as you cross the dance studio to grab your bag. "Are you—"

"—I'm sure," you interrupt before he could finish his sentence. "That meant nothing to me."

Steve, for the first time, looks unsure of what to say. For a second, you wonder if you had hurt his feelings but then you remembered that this was Steve Harrington. He didn't need validation from a girl like you.

"I'll see you at rehearsals tomorrow," you say before Steve could even open his mouth to respond.

And then—you leave the studio with a second glance.

You miss the way Steve watches you as you leave. The way he lifts his hand to brush his fingers over his swollen lips, the way he can't bring himself to move from the spot where you had kissed him.

Because maybe, just maybe, Steve Harrington had just had the best kiss of his damn life.

And it had meant nothing to you.

Fuck, Steve thought as his stomach turned with something that felt too close to disappointment for his liking. He was fucked. He was truly and utterly fucked.

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[cakedupkeery]

i think a gluten free soft pretzel with a lot of salt and mustard would heal my inner child right now

[keer-y]

y’all know when joe does that little open mouthed smile that’s more than :) but less than :D

i like when he does that

send tweet

[cakedupkeery]

hijacking this bc i would like to include the pursed lips kissy face

[drops-of-universe]

as a woman you're always too young or too old for things because the perfect age is when you're a man

[djospurnell]

i’m hard

via nterstellars on twitter (X)

[cakedupkeery]

[djospurnell]

god created men and then sent joe keery as an apology

[emziess]

Joe Keery as Travis "Teacake" Meacham Cold Storage (2026) dir. Jonny Campbell

[chestharrington]

https://www.tumblr.com/chestharrington/812977531888205824/evil-fwb-king-steve oh my GOD him pulling your glasses off your face, laying you down on your bed, leaving the softest sweetest kisses on your face and neck, telling you how special and pretty and smart you are just to pretend he doesn’t see you when you wave at him in the hallway

JUST EVIL!!!!

Kissing you slow and sweet until his palm gropes at your tit and you gasp into his mouth. Telling you how cute you are and how sweet you sound when he’s touching you like this. He seems like he’s so sweet when you’re alone, but you show up with a friend to one of his house parties and he won’t even look in your direction. Actually you see him flirting with and feeling up some other girl and you feel sick and stupid with jealousy.

[snoopylovessoup]

[2008braziliangrandprix]

shipping is 100% more fun when you don’t treat it like a giant conspiracy. and i wish more people knew this.

[djospurnell]

put that damn tongue away right now -

[cakedupkeery]

steve really fit all that hair in a swim cap, huh?? we were robbed of swim team steve. boooooooo.

[the-sweaty-toothed-mad-woman]

today’s the only day you can reblog this

“There Will Come Soft Rains”, Ray Bradbury

[joekeerysbellybutton]

Christina…. Steve’s bush…. 🫦

Chloe…………… it is very special to me

Firm believer that Steve, as he gets older, lets the bush THRIVE. When he was still in high school he shaved his chest cos none of the other boys were as hairy as him and he felt self conscious about it :(( and that extended to the patch of hair at the base of his cock.

But when he finds that “the ladies dig” the chest hair he lets it all hang out……

And you really dig his bush

You love to bury your nose in it when you take his fat length in your mouth —— giving it a deep sniff (extra points if he’s been working up a sweat)

You love to trail your hands through the hairy river of his torso when you’re on top of him, all the way down to where it connects to his dick. Sometimes you just sit there and twirl it around your finger and Steve chuckles “that tickles”

Sometimes you’ll grind your naked core into it, the corse hair feels electric on your clit…… and you love to see the hair matted with your cum after you’ve finished.

And Steve…….. well Steve is the number one lover of your bush

Loves to feel it tickle his face when he goes down on you, fuck he’ll spit in it just to see it shine.

He loves to see the hairs tangle with his when he fucks you deep…….. grinding into you…….. god he wishes you’d get so knotted together you’d have no choice but to stay like that forever.

[cakedupkeery]

me, writing: ummmm do these bitches talk too much???? (the answer is yes and also i don’t care)