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demogordon · 3 months
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everything sucks so bad for me rn but at least one of my exes got arrested and took the funniest fucking mugshot ever last week so. maybe its looking up
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demogordon · 3 months
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Sure makes you wonder how far we all gotta go for the ones we love. Especially when things go all twisted.
JOE KEERY in MARMALADE (2024) dir. Keir O'Donnell
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demogordon · 3 months
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OK new game. Use this website to see how common your first name is, and then put that number in the tags. 
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demogordon · 3 months
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The cast of It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia at the annual FX and Vanity Fair Emmy party in West Hollywood on January 13, 2024
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demogordon · 3 months
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enough of pedro pascal and ryan reynolds and all those other run-of-the-mill dilfs everyone and their mum are into: reblog and tell me your nichest old man crush
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demogordon · 4 months
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EXTREMELY rare w from the uk media
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demogordon · 4 months
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happy 2024 all! i disappeared for awhile on here, but my plans for the new year involve being back and better than ever. love y’all!
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demogordon · 4 months
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No offence but I feel like some people got a little too comfortable with telling people to touch grass and swung all the way round to just straight up shaming anyone who might have a less active social life than them to feel better about themselves. “She should be at the club” was a really funny meme until people started acting like fucking middle school bullies towards people who don’t go out with their friends a lot. All those drinking/drugs/sex milestone polls were fun to engage with until it became a wierd circlejerk making fun of people who haven’t done those things before. People on twitter are once again dogpiling someone for wanting queer social spaces that don’t revolve around alcohol or loud music and telling them it’s their own fault for not having friends.
Like I get that nightclubs and sex have strong ties to queer culture and are often the first targets in the hellscape of respectability politics. It’s important we remember our roots and protect these spaces from conservative scrutiny. I mean that. They are important. But just on a surface level it seems like people are starting to see having an inactive social life as some kind of moral failing which…it’s not. I feel like an insane person for feeling like I have to say this on the fucking queer autism website but like. You aren’t inherently a bad person if you don’t have friends. You aren’t “falling behind” if you haven’t had your first kiss in your 20s or never done drugs. The real world isn’t a movie. And if you see someone who doesn’t go out much and instinctually think “wow what a terminally online loser. I bet their social life sucks because they’re a sheltered creep and not because of systemic barriers beyond their control” you need to have a long hard look at why you feel that way.
There are very real barriers that prevent isolated people from finding community and connection. Do you think you’re superior for being able to breach them? Time, money, sobriety, accessibility, none of those factors were a problem for you, so it shouldn’t be for them, right? Right?
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demogordon · 4 months
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Jumping into the New Year like…
Joe Keery diving off a boat
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demogordon · 6 months
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(insp)
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demogordon · 6 months
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"It's this stupid hat. I'm telling you, it's totally blowing my best feature".
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demogordon · 6 months
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super curious today about how people feel toward the names they might have been given. apparently i used to ask my mom about my “boy name” several times a week and get really sad i couldn’t have both my given name and that name. being trans this is hilarious to me now so wondering
also curious how this intersects with being trans!! i feel like my fixation with it definitely had a lot to do with that, so idk add in tags? if you feel like being trans makes you more/less curious about it
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demogordon · 6 months
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demogordon · 7 months
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a sub!steve commission i did for @steveshairspray - thank you so for your support!
contains: sub!steve; soft top!reader; rimming + fingering + pegging (steve receiving); surprise breeding kink; slight sub space/steve fucked stupid; lil bit of aftercare
word count: 1.4k
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“I’ve got you,” you promise, kissing a stray freckle along Steve’s spine. He rests on his elbows and knees below you on the bed. He’s shaking, just a little, but also laughing at himself.
“I know, I know,” he chuckles. “I’m okay, I promise. Just thinkin’ about how funny this is.”
“What’s funny?”
“Guy like me getting fucked dumb is kinda ironic, no?”
You gently pinch his thigh. “Not ironic. Just hot. You gonna be good for me like I’ll be for you?”
“Of course.”
You kiss his shoulder blades. “Good boy.”
Lips brush against his skin as you slide downwards, letting your soft hands explore Steve’s sides and tummy before you rest behind him. He’s a little paler back here, not exposed to the sun like the rest of his golden body. Your palms rest against his ass, massaging his skin. He giggles again, then quickly follows with a “sorry!”
“You won’t be laughing for long,” you tease, moving your thumbs inwards, spreading him apart. Steve shivers when he feels your breath on him there, such an intimate spot that already has his vision blacking out. “Promise.”
He moans loud and long when your tongue gently licks at his hole. It’s so tight you’re not entirely sure how you’ll spread him open, though using your tongue should certainly work.
“Baby,” he moans, voice wrecked. “Oh, Jesus.”
You giggle now, gathering saliva in your mouth before spitting on his hole. He gasps and slides down, unable to keep himself upright on his elbows. He chokes, then keens when your tongue finally makes real contact with his ass. You lick gently, messily, letting your saliva run down his balls and his cock, which is slowly filling out.
“You like this, Stevie?”
“Mhm.”
You glance upwards to see his face buried in a pillow. You smile and press a tender kiss to his hole before tapering your tongue and fucking it against his rim.
“Ah!”
Despite his squirming, you make no efforts to stop. In fact, you ramp them up, reaching around to take his hardening cock in one hand. Steve wails, fucking his hips forwards into your fist and then back into your mouth. With your free hand, you spank him, smiling when he jumps.
“Stay still, Steve.”
“I’m sorry, I - woah! Feels so - good -“
“Relax,” you coo, rubbing his ass before spanking him again. Your tongue fucks his hole once more, getting messy and wet, spit sliding downwards into your fist. Wet, sloppy noises fill the room, and coupled with Steve’s whines and moans, your cunt starts to drip. You can imagine him in knee high socks next time you have him like this, maybe some mascara and lip gloss. He’d look so pretty all bitched out on your cock. Your thighs squeeze together and you can’t help but to moan as you kiss downwards towards his full balls.
“Oh, fuck,” he groans. “‘m gonna cum.”
It doesn’t ever take him long. Not at all. Anytime he slides into you his eyes get all unfocused and he can last maybe ten minutes before his cock starts twitching. Now, he’s lasted five. And you aren’t keen on letting him cum just yet. You wait until he’s panting and arching before pulling away from him completely.
Steve groans and slides down onto his tummy, humping his cock against the sheets.
“No,” you warn, smacking his ass a little harder this time and pulling his hips back up. “You cum when I make you, Steve.”
“I need more,” he whines, needy, voice thick and hoarse. If you could see his face you’d see the tears rimming his lashes.
“You’ll get more,” you promise him, letting your thumb rest on his rim. You rub in smooth, slow circles, your previous ministrations easing it inwards. “But if you’re not good for me, I’ll stop. Been thinking of getting you a cock cage, Stevie. Know how fucking insatiable you are. Could keep it locked on you for a few weeks until you’re crying for me to take it off. Y’want that?”
“Yes!”
“That was supposed to be a threat,” you mumble, lips twitching upwards. You reach out to rub his back while you press your thumb into his rim, clit pulsing at the way it sucks your finger in.
Steve says something that doesn’t make any sense, big strong biceps flexing as he grips onto the sheets. You want to see his face. “Flip over.”
He does so, a little slow, already getting to the point that his mind is lost to pleasure. He’s so pretty when his face comes into view, all soft and handsome, coffee colored eyes begging for you to continue. So you do, with no hesitation, sinking your thumb back into his ass as his legs rest on your shoulders. You can see his cock kick from this angle, drooling precum onto his stomach. “Steve,” you breathe. “You’re so fucking hot.”
“Th- thanks,” he moans, bottom lip bit firmly between his teeth. His cheeks are rosy, eyes glassy.
It’s nothing compared to when you eventually slide into his ass with your lubed up cock. His eyes truly cross, precious lips parting open. He groans, punched out and pathetic, as you slide halfway in. You give him a moment to take it, a hand resting on his jugular lightly. You pull back nice and slow, watching him exhale. You angle your hips and push forward, trying to find his prostate - which you do, according to Steve’s little scream. He grabs you, just like you grab him, his nails digging into your arms. He can’t speak. He only moans like a desperate whore as you fuck the tip of the dildo against his pleasure spot.
“Yeah, Stevie,” you moan. “Y’look so fuckin’ good when you’re fucked out and desperate, huh? Drooly little baby.”
He doesn’t answer. He can’t.
“You want me to jerk this fat cock off? Or you wanna cum untouched? Bet you could.” Your fingers twist a nipple and he finally reacts, shuddering and moaning.
“Touch me,” he cries. He’s so pretty when the tears spill over his bottom lash line.
He’s writhing and gasping when you start jerking him off, cock so heavy and hot. Precum pools downwards to where you’re fucking him open. He twitches and sputters, says some words that once again make no sense.
“Want me to kiss you?” you smile.
He just nods and angles his head upwards.
You fuck him slow and gentle as you kiss him an equal amount. He’s hardly kissing back, but you know he’s alright when he moans happily and lets go of your arms a little. You’re prideful of the bruises he’ll leave on you. Your tongue tenderly glides over his bottom lip and he opens his mouth so you can lick into it.
“I’m cum,” he moans suddenly, panting again, hairy chest heaving.
“You’re cum?”
“Uh-huh,” he groans, so low it sounds like a growl. “Mhm.”
You squeeze his neck a little. “You want to? Are you fucked out enough?”
He nods. “Mhm.”
And now it’s time to pull out all the stops on him. “You want me to cum, too? Want my dildo to knock you up?”
He gasps, cock jumping in your hand. “Oh god yeah fuck yes please?”
“Want me to fuck my cum into you?”
“Oh!” he gasps again, back arching off the bed. You fold him in half and fuck him a little harder, a little faster. “Please!”
“Cum, honey,” you whisper, leaning down to kiss him again. You feel his cock pulse and twitch and then he’s crying out into your mouth, baring down on your strap, stomach convulsing as he cums all over himself and your fist. A deep groan rumbles his chest as you continue to rub his sensitive cock until he shakes his head.
“There you go,” you praise, kissing his forehead and moving his sweaty hair out of his face. “I’m here, honey. You okay, Steve?”
He can’t speak. He nods, slack jawed and delirious.
“Yeah, honey? Give me a sec, gotta pull out, okay?”
He groans, eyes falling shut as you slowly pull out of him. You rub his chest down to his legs - his body is still stiff from his orgasm.
“So goddamn hot, Steve. You look so pretty when you’re getting fucked, baby. Want me to get you a bath ready? I’ll get in with you.”
“Mhm.” He’s smiling now, dopily, eyes still unfocused but he’s trying to look at you. “Soun’s good.”
You kiss the tip of his perfect little nose. “Okay, sweetheart. Stay right here.”
“I will.” He laughs suddenly and then doesn’t tell you why.
“You’re so hot when you’re fucked stupid,” you tease, sliding off the bed. “Now I get why you do it to me.”
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demogordon · 7 months
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Summary: Steve's absentee parents gift him a camcorder for graduation. What better way to find out how it works than making a sex tape?
Couple: Steve Harrington x fem!reader
Rating: Explicit (18+, MDNI)
Content Warnings: explicit smut (f!receiving oral, handjob, p in v sex ft. girl on top), sex on camera, filming a sex tape, lovey-dovey adorable dorks in love
Word Count: 3.7k
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Your heart soared with pride as Steve walked off the football field towards you, wearing a goofy-looking gown and graduation cap. As soon as he reached you, he lifted you up and gave you a tiny spin, smiling ear to ear. 
“You’re looking at a college grad,” he said with a smug smile after he put you down. You beamed at him as he lifted his hand and showed off the shiny gold class ring. “I’m never taking this thing off.”
You grinned, tugging at the graduation gown. “What about this thing? You willing to take this off for me?” You smiled wryly and pressed a kiss on his cheek. 
A throat cleared behind you both and you turned, looking at the party and Robin standing with various levels of disgust evident on their faces. 
Robin wrinkled her nose in disgust. “Keep it in your pants, please. Or, I guess keep it in your large, nylon zippy robe.” She squeezed between you and kissed Steve on the cheek. “I’m so proud of you, Steve.”
Dustin stepped forward next and gave Steve a big hug— he’d hit a growth spurt since you last saw him and was nearly as tall as Steve. Lucas, Will, and Mike all offered their congratulations combined with complaints about how boring the ceremony was after they got through the H last names. 
Max crossed her arms as El wheeled her over, trying her best to be nonchalant. “I can’t see you, but I know you look dumb in that stupid hat.” Steve gave a fake laugh, took the hat from his head, and placed it on hers. “Ew, it’s all sweaty, you jerk.” She smiled despite herself and held the hat against her chest.
Steve wrinkled his nose in a way that told you he was trying his best not to cry. You knew it meant a lot to him that they’d shown up. 
“Why don’t we all go for lunch?” You suggested. “My treat.” Not wanting the reunion to end, and not wanting to turn down a free lunch, everyone piled into their cars and headed to Steve’s favorite place.
When you and Steve got into his car, you were greeted by the shrill sound of his car phone ringing. With a furrowed brow, he reached over and retrieved the bulky device from its bag and answered. Even from across the car, you could hear the tinny noise of his mother speaking on the phone. 
“Yeah, the ceremony is over,” he said, jaw ticking. “I sent you both the invitation two months ago.” He looked over with an exasperated look, so you grabbed his hand to give a comforting squeeze. “Well, we’re all going to lunch if you can make it.”
You frowned, but didn’t say anything. Despite their apparent lack of care, you knew that he valued their approval and time.
“Oh. Right, I understand.” He sighed deeply. “Well, I appreciate it. Okay. Okay, bye.”
He hung up and sighed, running a hand through his hair. “They, uh, they got double booked. They’re in Buffalo for a conference right now.”
Your gaze softened at the sight of his disappointed expression. “I know they’re proud of you, Steve.” He nodded, but didn’t look entirely convinced. You pulled the hand intertwined with yours up and placed a soft kiss on his knuckles.
————
When you arrived at your shared condo, you were greeted by a gift-wrapped box on the porch. You had to help him carry it in through the door, huffing as you both dropped it onto your coffee table. 
Steve shrugged off the graduation gown he was wearing and kneeled to unwrap the present. A large card taped to the top revealed the senders, as if that were in question. 
“To our firstborn son— congratulations! Love, Mr and Mrs Harrington.” The emotionless text almost made you grimace. You’d never read something more blatantly written by a personal assistant in your life. 
“Jesus,” he muttered as he tore away the wrapping to reveal the gift. “This thing must’ve cost a fortune.” You glanced over as he held up a plastic case and found nothing that might have revealed its contents. 
“What is it?” You asked, kneeling down beside him and leaning in close. He popped open the case and held up a hulking piece of machinery. 
“It’s a camcorder,” he said with a grin. “It’s the best one on the market.”
You raised your eyebrows and tried not to ask what he even needed one of those for. Video cameras were for new parents and aspiring filmmakers, not college grads.
Your own gift felt tiny in comparison, even though you’d been saving for a few months to afford it. Between rent for you and Steve’s condo, groceries, and gas for your cars, it wasn’t easy to have expendable cash to buy nice gifts with. 
You stayed quiet as Steve marveled at the fancy gift, holding it up to his face like he was testing how it looked through the viewfinder. 
“Gorgeous,” he said, peeking out at you. “I think I found my muse.” You scoffed and covered the camera with your hand even though it wasn’t charged. 
“Plug it in and we’ll see how it works later,” you said. “For now… I have a gift for you.”
He sat up, wearing a grin. “Is it lingerie? Is it dinner at The Olive Garden? Is it a bubble bath?” He leaned in and nipped at your jaw teasingly. “C’mon, tell me—“
You giggled as he pinned you down on the rug, peppering kisses on your cheeks. “Steveeee,” you groaned. He finally stopped, hovering over you. “You’re such a spoiled brat.” That made him grin even more. He pecked your lips chastely, then sat back on his knees. 
You scrambled to stand up and grinned. “Stay there, alright?” He nodded and you disappeared into your shared bedroom. 
Hidden away in your bedside table was a glass trinket box you’d thrifted a few months ago. It was shaped like a heart, with little gold foil embellishments. You couldn’t leave without it. You knew the real gift was inside, but you still hoped that Steve would like the box. 
Steve was fiddling with the camera when you stepped back into the living room, trying his best to plug it in to charge. When he saw you, though, he smiled and sat down on the couch, waiting for you to join him. 
“It isn’t much,” you insisted as you handed it over. “I hope you like it though.”
He smiled and nudged your cheek with his nose. “Are you joking? This is adorable. I love it. I’m gonna keep all my important stuff in here.”
You smiled and shook your head. “Babe, open it.” He looked sheepish as he lifted the lid, then his expression softened. You watched with a fluttering in your chest as he lifted the chain from the box.
It took months to save up for real gold, and then for the pendants after. Two initials— his and yours. “If you don’t like it, I can take it back and get something you actually w—“ 
 He cut you off with a quick kiss that made your head spin. “It’s perfect. Best gift I’ve ever gotten, hands down. And one year I got Yankees tickets behind the plate for my birthday.” He was quick to put it on, smiling over at you. “How do I look?”
You pecked his cheek. “A million bucks, babe.” He leaned in and gave you a real kiss— deep and intense. You smiled against his lips and melted into his touch. You’d never loved someone the way you loved him. 
“Wanna know what’s crazy?” He said after he pulled away. You nodded and he gestured towards the bedroom. “I bought you something too. Stay here.”
You sat patiently as he got up and hurried into the bedroom. You heard scuffling and the sounds of moving drawers until he returned, holding a wooden box. 
“Your gift is inside this, by the way,” he teased as he sat back beside you. You watched him with anticipation until he flipped it open and your heart stopped. 
“So, uh, I got you jewelry too,” he said softly, or maybe your ears were just ringing. 
Inside the box, nestled in the middle of a tiny silk pillow, was a diamond ring. 
Like, a diamond ring. The kind you get married with. 
“That’s—“
He nodded. “Yeah, it is,” he said, grinning ear to ear. “Will you marry me?”
In lieu of a verbal response, you put the ring on and kissed him like he was your one and only source of oxygen. It felt like it anyway— that if you parted from him even a little you’d cease to exist. 
“Yes?” He asked, smiling nervously. “That’s a yes?”
You kissed him again. “It’s a yes, Steve. I wanna marry you.”
———
Steve forgot about the video camera in the excitement of the engagement. Because he had to call Robin’s hotel and let her know, and then she spilled the news to the party, and suddenly it felt like everyone from Hawkins was in the tiny condo. 
After hours and hours of catching up and celebrating the day, you and Steve were left alone in a quiet house. 
“So… the future Mrs. Steve Harrington…” you turned and rolled your eyes at the sight of Steve holding the video camera that had been charging all night. “Anything you want to say to the camera on the night of our engagement?”
“How do you know I’m not keeping my last name?” You asked as he got closer, putting the lens right in your face. You giggled and ducked out of the way as the lens came close to knocking against your nose. “You’re such a child.”
He grinned. “Alright, give me something to remember this night by. For posterity, baby.”
You smiled wickedly at him before lifting the hem of your shirt, flashing your tits at him and the camera. By the time you lowered your shirt back down, his mouth was ajar. “We are never showing anyone this video now.”
You grinned. “Nuh-uh, baby, this is all for you.” You raised your brows in a challenge and stepped into the bedroom, leaving him to hurry behind you with the clunky machine. 
He stood in the doorway, camera focused on you as you slipped off your blouse and skirt. The whirring of machinery inside the camera indicated he was zooming in on your tits. You stifled a laugh at the noise as he zoomed out again, taking in all of you.
“Strip for me,” he directed behind the camera. You gave a wry grin as your thumbs slipped behind the waistband of your panties and dragged them down your legs slowly. “Fuck, you’re so sexy. Gonna put on a show for me?”
You settled on the bed on all fours, back arched as you crawled towards the headboard. Steve groaned at the sight, breath shuddering as you flipped around and spread your legs for him. Without needing instructions, you slipped one hand between your legs and let the other move to your chest, kneading your breast between your fingers. 
He moved from the doorway— the magnetic pull of you too much to resist for long. He settled at the end of the bed, the camera so close it made butterflies swell in your tummy. He moved the camera to your hands, one between your legs, teasing your clit and dipping into the pool of arousal at your center, and the other toying with your nipples, the shiny diamond on the engagement ring glinting with each small movement. 
“Christ, baby hold the camera—“ he said suddenly, passing it over to you. You laughed as he practically threw it into your hands and you had to scramble to turn it right side up. 
You laughed as he tore off his clothes, probably popping some buttons here and there. “Steve, what are you— oh!” 
Without hesitation, Steve buried his head between your thighs, moaning at the taste of your juices as he lapped at your pussy. It was a struggle to film him and enjoy the moment, especially since you had to watch him through the viewfinder. But something about capturing something so intimate on film made a thrill run through you. 
“Fuck, Steve—“ you moaned, being more vocal than you normally would for the camera. Fuck the neighbors, honestly. It was your engagement night! “Your mouth feels so good, honey.” 
His brown eyes peered up at you, at the camera, framed by pretty long lashes. His lips formed a seal around your clit and he sucked lightly, making your legs tremble. Your free hand moved to his hair, tangling in the soft locks as his mouth elicited gasps and moans. 
A slick sheen had formed on the tip of his nose, his mouth, and chin from his ministrations. The sight made heat bloom in the pit of your stomach. His eyes fluttered closed as he lost himself in you— relishing in your sounds, your smell, your taste. 
A light pat on your thigh was his wordless signal for you to move and accommodate him more. You acquiesced, spreading your legs as much as you were comfortably able to, and he let his fingertips tease at your center. 
“Relax for me, baby,” he said, his words vibrating against your clit. He gave the bundle of nerves a light kiss before he looked up at you. “I’ve got you. Just…” He pushed his middle finger into you and you moaned low in your throat, instinctively pushing back against the intrusion. “That’s it. Just like that.”
He was always so gentle with you during foreplay— taking his time to really explore every single spot that he knew made you tick. You shuddered as the pad of his finger pressed against a particularly sensitive spot within you. He knew you like the back of his hand— probably better. He slid a second finger beside the first, coaxing moans and gasps from you as he gave all his attention to your clit and g-spot.
Your thighs trembled as you fought the instinct to close them around his head, the stimulation bordering on too much. The softness of his mouth on you, the press of his fingers against the most sensitive spot inside— making you cum was simply too easy for him. You barely had time to gasp out a breathy “I’m cumming—“ before your orgasm hit you. Your walls gripped his fingers like a vise as he worked you through it, muttering praise against your cunt before he withdrew his fingers completely. 
You stared at the ceiling, trying to find your breath. “C’mere. It's your turn,” you said with a grin. 
Steve simply shook his head. “Not done.” He moved his mouth back to your cunt, this time without the hungry ferocity. You sighed at the sensation, your legs twitching when the tip of his tongue brushed against your clit. His movements lost purpose with each pass of his tongue until he was practically making out with your pussy.
Your head fell back against the pillows, soft gasps slipping past your lips. Steve moaned against you as you tugged his hair, a furrow forming between his brows. So utterly lost in you that he hadn’t even noticed that he was rutting against the bed for friction. 
“C’mere,” you said softly. He pressed a final, wet kiss to your pussy before resting his head on the plush of your thigh. Your stomach flipped as he licked his lips, chasing those last remnants of your taste. He pressed a soft kiss to your belly before crawling up to meet you.
The kiss you shared was hungry and slow. The camera was shoved to the side so you could put your mouth on his— tongues meeting, the tang of your arousal and his spit flooding your senses. 
A low moan escaped his lips as your hand snaked between your two bodies, where you took his length into your hand and stroked slowly. His mouth fell open, a small furrow between his brows. 
“Fuck, baby,” he groaned. You smiled up at him innocently and let your thumb glide across his tip. A full-body shiver overtook him, and you couldn’t help but giggle at the sight. Steve was easy to love all the time, but especially when he was needy. “Switch spots with me.” When you furrowed your brows he nodded towards the camera. “Please?”
When he sat back on his heels, you moved from beneath him and let him settle with his back against the pillows. You were slightly annoyed that he had control of the camera, because goddamn. His thighs were bowed out slightly, cock resting against his stomach. The sight made your heart hammer as you straddled his thighs.
Steve took the camera back into his hands, a wide smile on his face. “Alright, just do what you were doing,” he instructed. “Left hand though.”
You glanced down at your hand and smiled softly. The engagement ring— your engagement ring— glinted up at you. You spit onto your hand and Steve groaned at the sight. 
“Haven’t even touched you yet,” you teased.
“Don’t let me stop you.” His voice wavered, revealing just how needy he really was.
He cried out the moment your hand wrapped around his length, head tossed back against the headboard. His cock pulsed in your hand as it glided up and down, aching for more. You leaned down, spitting onto his tip, giving you more slickness to work with. 
“Fuck,” he groaned, his chest heaving. You moved your right hand to his balls, kneading them as you focused your attention on the head. “Jesus, look at that fuckin’ rock, huh?”
You rolled your eyes and chuckled wryly. “That’s what you’re thinking about? Not— y’know— the handjob to end all handjobs?” To prove your point, you twisted your hand and let your thumb glide over his slit. He practically whimpered, bucking into your grip. 
You redoubled your efforts, relishing in each desperate, whiny noise you were able to elicit. He was getting close— you could feel it in the way he throbbed in your hand, and hear it in the desperate pants and moans passing his lips. Before he could finish, you slowed your pace and let him come back from the edge. 
He sat there, arm slung over his eyes, just catching his breath. “Earth to Steve?” You teased, placing a kiss on his tummy. He made a low noise in the back of his throat and took another deep breath. 
“Okay, I’m good,” he said, a breathy laugh escaping his lips as he finally lowered his arm and looked at you. “Just needed a minute so I didn’t—“ You giggled as he mimed an explosion, completely unabashed about the effect you had on him. 
He grabbed the camera and placed it on the bedside table, doing his best to angle it just right. “Alright… wanna take a ride on the Harrington Express?” He patted his thighs with a smug expression and you groaned in annoyance. 
“Steve.”
“Fine. I’ll be so cool. I’ll be totally normal. But just know… you’re marrying a loser.”
You rolled your eyes good-naturedly as you straddled his thighs. “I wouldn’t have it any other way… most of the time.”
He stared up at you like you hung the moon, all doe eyes and heart-shaped pupils. He pressed a gentle kiss to your lips, tender and slow, and you hummed contentedly at the feeling. 
“I love you,” he murmured against your lips. He moved one of your hands from his shoulder and down to his chest, where his heart thumped steadily. For you.
Your own heart lurched in your chest as a swell of emotions overtook you. “I love you too, Steve.”
You reached between the two of you, taking his cock into your hand so you could position him at your entrance. You breathed slowly through your nose as you sank down— the prep and attention he had given you made the stretch comfortable and bearable, so all you felt was the pleasurable full feeling that he gave you.
Once you were fully seated, you gave an experimental roll of your hips. A moan escaped you at the feeling— as each tiny movement made delicious electricity run along your nerves. 
He sat up fully, his chest pressing against yours, holding you firmly against him. “That’s it, baby,” he groaned, cutting himself off to plant wet kisses along your jaw and throat. “Feels so good. Love the way your pussy feels around me.”
He cried out as you began to ride him in earnest, not caring how thin the walls of the condo were. His hands gripped onto your hips and dimpled the plush skin there as he began to meet your thrusts with his own. With each movement, you could feel him getting deeper until you could practically feel him in your guts. 
“Steve,” you gasped out, meeting his gaze as he fucked up into you. The sound of his name seemed to spur him on.
“Say it again,” he demanded. “Touch yourself while you do,”
You whimpered at the tone of his voice, snaking a hand between your bodies to toy with your clit. Your limbs felt like jelly as he continued to fuck the life and brains out of you. “St-Steve, fuck, baby,” you cried between the hiccup-y sobs of pleasure that were punched from your lungs.
“Fuck, you’re squeezin’ me so tight. Not gonna last like this.”
“Don’t,” you managed. “Cum for me. With me.” You leaned in and kissed him in a way that felt like more saliva than lips. 
When you pulled back, he nodded, forehead pressed against yours as you both worked each other over the edge. Your vision was spotted with pinpricks of light while he worked you through it, his moans distant in your ears. 
You were both panting, nearly tacked together with sweat as you came down. You chuckled lightly as you tilted your head to look at him. “That was one hell of a celebration.” He intertwined your fingers and placed a kiss on your ring finger. 
“And we have the rest of our lives to do it again, and again, and again, and ag—“ 
You shut him up with a kiss. You figure that for the rest of your lives, that’s always going to work. 
It does.
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demogordon · 7 months
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demogordon · 7 months
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I Think We're Alone Now || Steve Harrington x Reader
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Summary: Set in the S3 Starcourt era... Steve develops a fixation on the shopgirl-next-door.
Couple: Steve Harrington x fem!reader
Rating: Explicit (18+, MDNI)
Content Warnings: explicit smut || sexual fantasy (includes oral, f and m receiving, p in v sex) and solo masturbation, kind of a panty/lingerie fetish if u squint or even just stare
Word Count: 2.9k
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Whoever was in charge of Starcourt Mall planning was a sadist. That was the only explanation as to why a lingerie store was situated directly next door to Scoops Ahoy. Really, what business did it have in a food court of all places?
It also didn’t help that Steve Harrington was in the sex drought of all sex droughts— caused not just because of his stupid uniform, but probably also owed a lot to the fact that he had no college prospects, had lost his proverbial crown to Billy Hargrove, and had been cheated on with Jonathan Byers. Nothing kills a reputation quite like that. 
So there he was— showing up to work every day, walking past scantily clad mannequins and shopgirls wearing tight miniskirts, none of whom gave him the time of day when he was dressed like that. Well, none of them except you. 
“Good morning, Steve!” You greeted, wearing a tight white button-up shirt with a black pencil skirt. Like a sexy librarian had just walked off the page of a centerfold and decided to work retail. You were lifting the gate from the front of the store and placing a sale sign right between your two shops as he passed.
“You’re opening again?” He asked, pausing in front of his stupid, sticky helljob. You blew a loose piece of hair from your bangs as you stood and nodded. 
“And closing. It’s our summer savings sale,” you explained. “You should probably expect a lot of rollover customers. Stop by if you’re in the market for anything. Maybe a nice gift for a girlfriend?” Before he could respond, you gave him a pretty smile as you disappeared into your dimly-lit storefront to finish opening. 
You’d gone to high school together, though he doubted you remembered him. You were, after all, a senior while he was just an annoying sophomore on JV Basketball. You were on homecoming court, voted most friendly for senior superlatives, and were probably the hottest girl in your class. He didn’t have a chance then, and he definitely didn’t now.
But you always said hello when he passed by, and you would stop by Scoops sometimes after work and buy a cone of the flavor of the month. He wanted to talk to you more— to actually get to know you beyond a schoolboy crush, but you were so far out of his league that he couldn’t bring himself to try. 
When he walked into Scoops, his boss, Allan, had already begun the process of opening. His task of vigorously polishing the glass case of ice cream felt pointless when it was about thirty minutes from being smudged with a toddler’s fingerprints. 
“Steven, you’re late,” He said firmly. 
Steve glanced towards the clock. “I’m five minutes early.”
Allan slung the rag he was cleaning with over his shoulder and sighed. “In my book, thirty minutes early is on time, and on time is late.”
Steve made a face as he refrained from telling Allan that payroll would disagree. Instead, he put on the stupid sailor hat and pinned on his nametag. And, just because he could, he clocked in early.
His morning was hectic. Like you’d said, there were countless rollover customers who wandered in after the sale next door, each clutching a bag of lingerie and giggling with their friends. His wrist was aching from scooping so much ice cream by the time lunchtime rolled around. He would’ve gone back for his fifteen, but there you were, your hair pulled back in a banana clip, fanning yourself as you stepped into the long line for ice cream. 
When you finally reached the counter, you smiled like the two of you shared a secret. “Busy day?” You asked as you fished cash out of your purse. 
“It’s been crazy. You?”
You peered up at him and laughed wryly. “God, you wouldn’t believe the number of women in this town who jump at the chance for discounted racy lingerie. I’m drowning in satin and lace today.”
He managed to smile without looking like a complete idiot as he scooped your ice cream, handing it across the counter as you looked at him with amusement. 
“You memorized my order? That’s so sweet, Steve.”  You handed him a few bills and coins across the counter. “Keep the change, alright? Hopefully I'll see you later.”
His cheeks burned hot. “Yeah, for sure.” He stared dumbly as you licked your ice cream and walked out into the food court. 
He needed to find an excuse to buy lingerie from you... if only to have a reason to see you again that day. 
———
It was late afternoon before he got his first break and darted into the lingerie store to the shock and horror of the women inside. He hip-checked a table displaying hosiery before he stopped in front of you, smiling expectantly. 
You put down the stockings you were folding and looked at him with amusement. “Steve! What can I help you with?”
“Oh, uh… just…” He floundered as he searched for a reason, then remembered your suggestion that morning— buying for a girlfriend. “My girlfriend.”
“Oh? What’s her name? Maybe I know her.”
Steve hesitated for a moment, before saying the first girl’s name to pop into his head. “Her name is Nancy.”
As soon as your brows furrowed, he knew he fucked up. “Oh, I heard you two broke up, or something.” 
He hesitated, mouth open as he tried to find words to dig himself out of the hole. “Oh… no, not that Nancy. It’s a different Nancy. You probably don’t know her.”
You raised your brows, but said nothing to suggest you doubted him. “I can help you find something. What were you thinking?”
He reached back and scratched the back of his neck sheepishly. He hadn’t thought this far. “Uh, what would you suggest?”
You considered it for a moment, looking at him carefully. “Well, that depends. Are you buying something she’d like to wear, or something you’d like to see her in?”
Steve blinked dumbly. “Both?”
You laughed lightly and walked towards a table displaying an array of underwear. “So, if you’re going for practical and sexy, I’d recommend panties.” You held up a lacy white pair and his mouth went dry. “A pair like these is pleasing to the eye, but totally invisible underneath clothes.” You stepped back and gave a tiny spin. “I’ve got them on now, and you’d think I wasn’t wearing any. Absolutely no lines at all.” 
Steve swallowed hard. Don’t picture it don’t picture it don’t picture it don’t— “Yeah, I’ll take those.” 
You chuckled and grinned. “Well, you’re an easy sell. Do you want the matching bra and garter belt to go with that?” You gestured to the mannequin atop the table. “The set is absolutely stunning when worn all together.”
He hesitated, knowing he had no use for any of this stuff. Still, the vision in his mind of you wearing the set was enough to make blood rush south and all rational thoughts leave his brain.
“I really can’t afford the full set,” he finally said after a synapse successfully fired in his brain. “I’ll just, uh, grab her size then.” You nodded and smiled. He had to pretend like he wasn’t thinking of you wearing this same pair, imagining what size would be closest to yours. He grabbed blindly at the folded pairs and retrieved the first ones his hands touched. 
“I’ll ring you up! I’ll even throw in our gift wrapping just because I like you so much.” You smiled and guided him towards the register, letting him cut the line of women waiting to pay. After he paid, you handed over a white box with a silky red bow and gave him a conspiratorial smile. “I hope you both enjoy.” 
————
The box sat on his bedside table— the proverbial elephant in the room. 
God, he thought. You probably thought he was a weird pervert who wanted to wear them or something. Well, he probably would if someone hot enough asked him to, but it wasn’t like he was seeking it out. 
His thoughts wandered as they usually did when it was late and he was home alone with nothing (or no one) to do. That night, though, his thoughts were focused solely on you. 
He thought about the professional pencil skirt you wore, of lace and stockings beneath. He yearned to peel them off of you with his teeth and bury his head between your thighs, tasting all you had to offer him. He wanted your manicured nails tugging on his hair, scratching his scalp as you cried out in pleasure above him.
He groaned, almost involuntarily reaching down to palm himself over his sweats. Talk about pathetic— even the tiniest mental image made him swell with desire. Fucking dry spell. 
“Fuck,” he muttered, bucking into his own grip. Just the lightest pressure made him groan and toss his head back, the expanse of his neck bared. He imagined your pretty mouth pressed against his throat, sucking bruises into his pale skin and felt his cock twitch beneath the confines of his pants.
He was quick to strip off the rest of his clothes, not wanting anything in the way. The dry glide of his hand along his hardening length made him hiss. With clumsy impatience, he reached for the bottle of lube inside of his bedside table, almost empty from solo use, sitting beside a mostly-full box of condoms.
Immediately, the slick sounds of him working his length filled the room— desperate and messy with need. Maybe he could’ve been patient— taken it slower, but he was overcome with lust and a desire for release.
“Fuck,” he groaned. “Feels so good— don’t stop, keep goin’ just like that.”
As the words mindlessly slipped past his lips, he knew he was well and truly gone. It was an entirely new level of desperate and horny to dirty talk to the girl you were hot for when she wasn’t even there. 
His free hand was splayed across his chest, just resting against the thatch of chest hair where his heart was pounding just beneath his ribs. As his desperation grew, his hand wandered lower, fondling his balls as his other hand squeezed the base of his shaft. A desperate, feral noise escaped his mouth that he’d never even heard himself make before.
He closed his eyes and he could imagine you pulling him into a dressing room, a wanton look in your gaze as you pulled the thin curtain shut, the only semblance of privacy you could get. You’d smile as you stripped off your clothes, only clad in the skimpy lingerie you’d paid for with your employee discount. 
“You’re gonna have to be quiet for me, okay?” You’d say as you pulled down his stupid Scoops uniform shorts. “Don’t want to get caught, right?”
He could feel sweat beading at the base of his neck and around his forehead, on his chest, tummy, and thighs. His entire body was burning up as he touched himself, like he was on fire from the inside out. 
He’d waste no time kneeling before you— tugging your stockings and panties down and hiking up your skirt so he could slot himself between your legs and taste you. There were few things Steve loved more than eating pussy. There was something about the taste, smell, the sounds that he could elicit with a few deft movements of his tongue. You’d pull his hair and tilt your head back as moans escaped your lips. 
He worked his length quickly as he imagined eating you out. His head was thrown back, tongue lolling out of his mouth as short pants escaped him. The slick sounds of lube and the slap of his hand at the base of his cock were pornographically loud. He’d have been embarrassed had he not had the house to himself.
“Fuck, baby,” he groaned. “Wanna make you cum so bad. Wanna taste you.”  He could only imagine the pretty sounds you’d make as you came, the way you’d tremble as your knees threatened to give out. He’d wait until you couldn’t take anymore before finally relenting, meeting you with a kiss.
Your hands would be soft. He knew this not just by looking at them, but also from the few times you’d put a hand on his arm when you passed by him in the service hallways. He liked thinking about your hands on him, squeezing him just the way he liked. 
“You’re so big, Steve,” you’d say from your knees, peering up at him with big doll eyes. Your hand would glide along his cock— slow, teasing. Your tongue would dart out, kitten-licking his tip before you took him into his mouth entirely.
“Mmm, fuck— feels so good,” Steve cried out, his chest heaving as he continued to work his hand along his cock. “Doin’ so good, taking it all for me. Just like that.”
Steve felt himself nearing his finish and slowed down, practically to a snail's pace to keep from busting early. What was the point of having a sexual fantasy if you finished before getting to the best part? 
He returned his attention to the image of you in his mind. How the drool at the corners of your mouth would drip messily, how your eyes would be wet and glossy as his cock bullied its way into your throat. Your free hand would move to cup his balls, heavy and full for you as you kneaded them in your palm. 
He’d bring you up to him and give you a kiss for good measure— slow and messy like you had all the time in the world. But he’d get impatient, like he was then to just give in and make himself cum. 
He’d press your back against the wall and lift your legs around his waist. You’d still be wet from his mouth, dripping with desire. You’d take him with no resistance at all, just a tight warmth like he belonged there. 
He needed more. Just jerking off wasn’t cutting it. He reached out clumsily with his free hand and grabbed the gift-wrapped box from the bedside table and tore at the silky red ribbon so he could knock the top of the box off. He grabbed the white lace panties from within and groaned at the sight.
“Ah!” He got a full-body shiver the moment he wrapped the lace panties around his cock, the fabric soft against his flushed length. They wrap around the head as he sets a fast pace, imagining that they’re yours— the same pair you’d been wearing that day. 
“Fuck,” he cried out, bucking up into his fist and the lace. “Holy shit, ‘m cumming. Fuck— fuck—“ He came with a shout, his spend soaking through the white lace, sticky on his hands and dripping down his shaft, pooling at the base. 
His breath came in soft pants as he came down, his cock still twitching weakly, rivulets of cum dripping from the slit. “Goddamn,” was all he could manage as he laid limp against his pillows. 
He’d made a mess, not just of himself, but of the lace panties he’d spent a day’s paycheck on. He grimaced at the sight of them, completely soiled from his exploits. With more effort than he even felt capable of, he sat up and tossed them into the hamper in the corner of his room. 
Afterward, he looked down at himself— the mess of cum and lube left behind. He stood and stretched on slightly weak legs and went to wash off. He’d deal with the shame of it all tomorrow.
————
You were smiling at customers when he came in for his shift the next day, feeling sensitive from the second round he’d put himself through in the shower the previous night… and the quick session he’d had in the morning. 
Part of him felt like a perv for thinking about you like that, but then you looked up, saw him, and smiled… and he felt the wariness wash away like it was nothing. 
At lunch, he walked into the store, which was far less crowded than it had been the day prior. You saw him and approached with a casual confidence that made him want to crumble to his knees. 
“Hi, Steve! Did Nancy like the gift you got her?”
His brow furrowed. “Nancy? We broke up last year.”
You laughed lightly and shook your head. “No, I meant your new girlfriend. The other Nancy.”
He swore internally as he nodded. “Right! Yes. She loved them, actually. She wants another pair.”
“Great, just meet me at the register when you’re done.” You smiled and departed. Steve couldn’t help but stare at your ass in that tight skirt as you walked away. 
He grabbed two more pairs— black and red— and approached the counter where you stood. You rang him up without further comment and smiled as you passed the bag and receipt over. 
“Come back soon, Steve,” you said with a grin before departing into the back of the store. 
That night as Steve was unpacking the bag, he found a small note written on blank receipt paper. 
“Steve, if you wanted to talk to me, you didn’t have to buy lingerie for a fake girlfriend to do it. XO” Beneath it, in clear print was your phone number circled twice. 
Steve grinned, running his thumb over the note. Maybe his dry spell was going to end sooner than he thought.
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