andrei @simp-for-steve - Tumblr Blog

Posts

𓆝 𝐧𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐠𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𓆞

𝙈𝘼𝙎𝙏𝙀𝙍𝙇𝙄𝙎𝙏

𝙍𝙀𝙌𝙐𝙀𝙎𝙏 𝙍𝙐𝙇𝙀𝙎

stitch-away

🎱 outlook good 🎱

pairing: marcus moreno x male reader

summary: you and marcus are dorm mates in college. you find he’s bought a magic 8 ball with him

tags: MDNI soft dom marcus, unprotected p in a, oral, kinda cuddlefucking, coming out, cute teasing, college au

word count: 2k

a/n: this is for @clubsoft's have you ever tried this one? writing challenge. i got the position thirst and the item magic 8 ball. reader is lowkey silly in this one lol, it was fun to write!!

spoiledboys

vinyl shelf (dbf! joel x m!reader)

pairing: joel miller x male reader

summary: your dad asks for his best friend to fix the shelf you keep the things you love the most. alone in your room, the two of you end up sitting on the floor with cold beers and Springsteen playing softly in the background. by the time the afternoon ends, Joel Miller leaves completely fascinated with your musical taste.

tags: MDNI age gap, joel is 55, smut, unprotected p in a, spanking, slapping, daddy kink, breeding kink

word count: 4,4k

a/n: this is something i had in my mind for a long time. i'll go back to it later probably, i have a continuation in mind, just needed to let it out to the world so i could write a new dynamic i have in mind. btw i was totally inspired by @stitch-away writing, i was obsessed with they work a few months go i decided to give it a try.

the house was empty and quiet. your dad had gone into town for the day. you were alone after soccer practice, still on your uniform laying on the sofa when the knock came.

you opened the door to find joel miller standing on your porch, toolbox in his large hand, wearing a green flannel shirt that clung to his broad chest and those well-worn jeans.

“hey, kid” he said, voice low and warm. “your dad told me the screen door on the back porch was actin’ up and that shelf in your room keeps comin’ loose. figured i’d come fix it for you while i had the chance.”

you swallowed, stepping aside to let him in. “he’s not here right now, but yeah… come on in. i can show you where it is.” you felt anxious. you were alone with joel for the first time.

spoiledboys

master. (professor!joel miller x student!reader)

series: spoiled boys (chapter I - the literature student)

pairing: professor joel miller x male student reader

summary: a promising young literature student visits his strict professor’s apartment one autumn evening to collect the books his professor promised to lend him.

“I loved your master perfectly… I taught him all that he knew… And I sent you to him with my guarantee… I could teach him something new.

And I taught him how you would long for me No matter what he said, no matter what you'd do"

tags: MDNI dark academia-ish vibe. big age gap (professor joel is 64, reader is 20) smut, praise and breeding kink

word count: 5,2k

playlist: master song - leonard cohen/teachers - leonard cohen/that old feeling - chet baker/empire line - the national/waiting room - phoebe bridgers/length of love - interpol

a/n: this is the first chapter of a series i'll call "spoiled boys", i think the title is pretty self explanatory. this was inspired by "master song" and "teachers" by leonard cohen. let me know what you think of it!

"is my passion perfect?" "no, do it once again."

🍂🍁📚

he moved to the bar cart with the calm confidence of a man who had done this many times before. you watched as he poured two generous measures of rich amber liquid into heavy crystal glasses. he handed you one of the glasses and sat down on the sofa beside you — close enough that you could feel the warmth of his body and catch the faint scent of his cologne.the leather creaked softly under his weight. professor miller took a slow sip from his glass, savoring it, then turned his sharp, intelligent eyes on you. you held the heavy glass in both hands, the whiskey’s honeyed aroma rising to your nose. you took a small, careful sip. it burned pleasantly down your throat but a slight wince betrayed you. professor miller noticed immediately. “you’ve never tried whiskey before, have you?” he asked, gentle amusement coloring his deep voice. you hesitated, cheeks warming. you didn’t want to come across as an inexperienced boy. “not… not really, sir,” you admitted quietly. “it’s alright,” he said, rising from the sofa “this jack daniels honey is already quite gentle, but we can make it even kinder for your first time.” he walked over to the bar cart and returned with a can of red bull. he poured a generous amount into your glass. “try it now. slowly.” “so much better” you said. professor miller watched you with quiet amusement, then leaned back into the sofa, resting one arm along the backrest. being this close to him, you became aware of details you hadn’t noticed before. his chest was broad and firm beneath the charcoal sweater. you could see the faint outline of firm muscle. the strong line of his jaw softened by a well-groomed salt-and-pepper beard, and the elegant veins on the back of his large hands. his jet-black hair that was strikingly distinguished by elegant streaks of silver at the temples and throughout, catching the warm lamplight like threads of fine metal. it made him look wise, experienced, and impossibly handsome all at once. sitting this close to him made your own youth feel almost fragile by comparison. he was everything you hoped to become one day.

“i don’t really have one favorite,” you answered honestly, a little shy under his attentive gaze. “i like anything that makes me feel something. anything with a powerful narrative that stays with me… that leaves me thinking about it for days. it doesn’t matter if it’s sad, unsettling, or beautiful. as long as it moves me.” professor miller watched you intently, his expression softening with quiet satisfaction. he rested one arm along the back of the sofa, his fingers not quite touching your shoulder. “that’s a good answer,” he said, nodding slowly. “an honest one. most students your age try to impress me by naming the most intellectual or fashionable authors. but you… you want to be affected. i see that hunger in you,” he continued, his voice dropping lower. your face burned. you felt trangely electrified. “do you like poetry?” he asked. you hesitated, suddenly self-conscious under his attentive gaze. “i… don’t read much poetry, sir,” you admitted quietly. “i’ve tried, but it always feels like i’m missing something. like i don’t know how to read it properly.” professor miller smiled, the smile of a man who had guided many young readers through their uncertainties. “that’s perfectly alright,” he said gently. “most people are never taught how to read poetry. they’re expected to simply feel it, which is unfair.” he stood up and walked over to one of the tall bookshelves. his fingers moved with practiced familiarity across the spines until he found what he was looking for. he returned with a beautiful cloth-bound volume and sat back down, even closer this time.“i won’t push poetry on you tonight,” he said, opening the book with care. “but i will show you something better. someone who writes prose that feels like poetry.” he handed you the book. the collected stories of katherine mansfield. you took the book reverently. it was an old edition, the pages slightly yellowed, the cover soft under your fingers. professor miller leaned in slightly, pointing to a story titled “the garden party.” “start with this one,” he murmured. “it’s only a few pages long, but it will stay with you for years. i’ll lend you this copy. make notes in the margins if you want. i want to see what you feel when you read her. keep it as long as you like.” you smiled, unable to hide your excitement. “thank you, sir. i can’t wait to read it,” you said softly, your voice warm with genuine joy. you held the book a little tighter against your lap, already imagining yourself curled up in your room later, reading the words he had chosen for you. already imagining late nights spent underlining passages he had once read, hoping he would approve of your thoughts. the idea that he wanted to know your thoughts made you feel seen in a way no one else ever had. professor miller watched your eager expression with quiet satisfaction. “are you thinking about getting a master’s degree?” he asked you hesitated, unsure how to answer. the truth was you hadn’t thought that far ahead yet.

“you should consider it.” his thumb brushed slowly along your jaw. “it would be a waste not to let that mind go as far as it can.” a small, teasing smile curved his lips as he studied you. his voice dropped even lower, laced with seductive amusement. “though i suspect..” he murmured, eyes darkening, “deep down, you want someone to master you…” the words settled over you like warm velvet. professor miller let them linger for a moment, his thumb still tracing slow circles along your jaw. then his voice dropped even lower, rougher, thick with desire. “i’ve seen the way you look at me in class… how you stay behind after everyone else has left, lingering by my desk even when you don’t have a question. we both know what this is.” his fingers slid gently to the back of your neck, holding you with quiet possession. “so be honest with me, velvet porcelain boy… what exactly are you hoping i’ll teach you?” the question hung in the air, heavy and intimate. you had tried, in the rational hours, to construct other explanations for why you read three times over every text he assigned. why you want so bad to say something precise enough to make him pause. to make him look. you had told yourself it was ambition. academic devotion. he reached out and slowly brushed a stray lock of hair from your forehead, his thumb lingering for a moment against your temple. the touch was gentle. the mansfield book still rested in your lap like a silent witness to the growing tension between you. “i…” you swallowed, voice barely above a whisper. “i want you to show me things i don’t know yet. i want to know everything” “everything,” he repeated softly, tasting the word the way he would a delicate line of poetry — slowly, deliberately, savoring its weight. “that’s a very large appetite for such a careful boy.” his hand returned to your neck, fingers stroking the sensitive skin with soothing possession. “you’re trembling,” he observed softly, almost tenderly. “there’s no need to feel nervous around me.”

professor miller’s voice was low and reassuring, like warm honey dripping over velvet. he rose from the sofa with calm, deliberate grace. the lamplight cast a golden glow across his broad shoulders as he stood before you. “let me teach you your first real lesson.” he picked up his whiskey glass and without breaking eye contact, he reached down and slowly undid his belt, then the button and zipper of his trousers. he freed his enormous cock — thick, heavy, full of veins and half-hard — letting it rest against the rim of the glass before slowly lowering it into the warm whiskey. ‘i’ll teach you how to drink whiskey properly.” the sight was obscene and strangely elegant at the same time. “kneel for your master.” professor miller stood tall and commanding in front of you, one hand still loosely holding the glass, his wet, glistening cock waiting for you. this was really happening. the distinguished professor who had spent weeks shaping your mind was now offering something more. you slid off the sofa and knelt before him without a word. the carpet was soft against your knees. as you looked up, the sheer size and weight of him so close to your face made your mouth water. professor miller’s hand came down gently to rest on the top of your head, not pushing, just guiding. you leaned forward and took him into your mouth. the first taste hit you immediately — sweet honeyed whiskey mixed with the warm, masculine flavor of his cock. you sucked slowly, savoring the way the sweetened whiskey coated your tongue while his thick shaft grew steadily harder between your lips. the more you sucked, the harder he became, filling your mouth with growing heat and weight. professor miller let out a low, pleased groan, his fingers tightening gently in your hair. “what a receptive boy you are…” he praised, his voice rough with pleasure. you moaned softly. you could feel him growing fully hard now — impossibly thick and rigid — stretching your lips as you worked him deeper. “easy, boy… just like that,” he murmured, guiding your head with gentle pressure. “a little deeper. let me feel your throat. you can take more. i know you can.” he pushed in a little further, careful but firm, watching with dark, hungry eyes as your lips stretched around him. the taste of whiskey was fading, replaced more and more by the warm, masculine flavor of his skin. “you’re doing so well,” he whispered, voice full of approval. “look at you… such a brilliant, beautiful boy on your knees for me…” professor miller let out a low, satisfied groan and gently pulled your head back by the hair, sliding his thick, glistening cock from between your swollen lips.

“come here, sweet boy,” he murmured and before you could fully process it, his strong hands slid under your arms and lifted you effortlessly. in one fluid motion, he pushed you back onto the deep leather sofa. your back hit the cushions as he followed, covering your body with his much larger, heavier frame, pressing you down with weight. his tongue pushed past your lips with confident hunger, sliding against yours, tasting you thoroughly. he kissed like a man who had waited weeks for this: slow, wet, and demanding. his tongue explored every inch of your mouth. the faint taste of whiskey still lingered on his tongue, mixing with the taste of his cock that was still fresh on yours. you moaned into his mouth as he devoured you, his silver beard brushing softly against your skin. he tilted his head and kissed you even deeper, sucking on your tongue, licking into your mouth with filthy, luxurious strokes. one of his hands slid down to grip your thigh, pulling it higher around his hip as he pressed his still-hard, heavy cock against you as he started to take off your clothes with hunger. his fingers moved with practiced urgency, pulling your shirt up and over your head in one smooth motion, barely breaking the kiss. he tossed it aside and immediately ran his warm palm over your bare chest, thumb brushing across your nipple as he groaned into your mouth. “so soft,” he whispered as he touch your skin, voice rough with desire. “such a perfect boy.” he sat up just enough to work on your pants, unbuttoning and unzipping them with impatient hands. in one strong pull, he dragged your pants and underwear down your legs together, leaving you completely naked beneath him. “open your mouth for me” you obeyed instantly, parting your lips. he leaned over you and spit slowly into your open mouth. the act felt so filthy, so possessive, that a needy whimper escaped your throat. you loved it. you held his spit on your tongue, tasting him, swirling it slowly in your mouth like a sacred offering before finally swallowing it with a soft, grateful moan. “good boy,” he growled softly. he stood up from the sofa, pulling his charcoal sweater over his head, revealing a broad, powerful chest dusted with dark hair threaded with silver. fully naked, he was magnificent. “come here,” he order, looking at you with commanding affection. “let your master teach you how to worship properly.” you rose to your feet and stepped close to him. professor miller towered over you, radiating quiet power. he placed one large hand on the back of your neck and gently but firmly guided your face toward his raised arm. you moved slowly, reverently, tasting the faint salt of his skin. professor miller hummed in approval, his fingers threading gently through your hair. “that’s it… good boy.”

encouraged, you moved lower, kissing and licking down the center of his torso. your tongue traced the defined lines of his abdomen, savoring the firm ridges of his six-pack. he was impressively toned. you took your time, licking every groove, pressing open-mouthed kisses against the hard muscle, occasionally sucking lightly on his skin. you lost yourself in it, licking and kissing with increasing devotion, sucking lightly on the sensitive skin. the more you tasted him, the harder you became. “good boy… such a hungry, perfect boy,” he praised, pressing your face deeper for a moment. “you worship me so beautifully.” your mouth moved past his toned abdomen, following the sharp v-line of his hips. you looked up at him for permission. professor miller stroked your cheek with his thumb, eyes dark and full of possessive affection. he cupped your face with both hands and kissed you deeply, tasting himself on your tongue. he led you back to the sofa, guiding you down onto your back with careful strength. the leather was cool against your heated skin. he lowered himself and took your cock into his mouth. the heat was overwhelming. his mouth was incredibly warm and skilled. his tongue pressed firmly along the underside of your shaft while his soft silver-streaked beard brushed teasingly against your thighs. a deep, guttural moan escaped your throat as pleasure shot through your entire body. he took you even deeper, relaxing his throat and swallowing around your length with practiced ease, then pulled back to swirl his tongue around your sensitive head, savoring the taste of your precum. he looked up at you with dark, satisfied eyes while his mouth continued working you so beautifully. “you taste so good,” he murmured against your wet cock, stroking you slowly with one large hand. “do you like when your professor takes all of you in his month?” “yes— fuck, yes, sir.” you gasped, voice wrecked with pleasure. “i love it. it feels amazing, sir. please don’t stop—”

“such a filthy boy” he praised while grabbing a firm handful of your ass. he squeezed it possessively while he continued sucking you with slow, wet strokes. suddenly, he pulled off your cock with a wet pop and flipped you over onto your stomach. you gasped as your chest pressed into the leather sofa. professor miller knelt behind you, spreading your legs wider and pulling your hips up so your ass was raised for him. “such a perfect ass,” he growled softly, voice thick with lust. “so soft and untouched…” he leaned down and spat directly onto your hole, you felt the cold liquid right into you. then he did it again, making sure you were dripping wet. his fingers joined in, spreading his spit around your tight entrance, rubbing slow circles. now you could feel the thick blunt head of his enormous cock, he slapped your ass with it twice before he pushed in slowly, steadily, the spit and precum letting him slide in surprisingly deep on the first thrust. you felt every inch as he filled you, stretching you open in the most delicious, overwhelming way. “fuck— professor…” you whimpered, fingers gripping the sofa. “that’s it.” he stayed buried deep for a moment, letting you adjust to his size, his large hands gripping your hips. then he began to move — slow, deep thrusts that made your whole body light up with pleasure. every stroke dragged against that perfect spot inside you, sending waves of intense bliss through your body. “you feel incredible,” he breathed against your ear, pressing his chest to your back. “so tight… so warm… gripping me so beautifully. my clever, eager boy.” he started fucking you harder, deeper, the wet sound of his hips meeting your ass filling the quiet room as he claimed you completely. professor miller’s enormous cock felt impossibly thick as it slid deep inside you, filling you completely, pressing against every sensitive spot. the wet, filthy sound of his spit-lubricated shaft pushing into your tight hole made your mind hazy with pleasure. he pulled back slowly, almost removing his entire length, leaving just the fat head inside you — only to slam back in with one powerful thrust. your eyes rolled back, a broken moan tearing from your throat as intense pleasure shot through your body. “so wet…” you whimpered, voice shaking. “it feels so fucking good, professor…" professor miller groaned in satisfaction. after a few more deep thrusts, he suddenly pulled out, flipped you onto your back, and grabbed your legs. he hooked them over his broad shoulders, folding you beneath him. he looked straight into your eyes with a possessive gaze — the look of a man who knew he was claiming something precious. “look at your master while he ruins you.” one of his large hands wrapped around your rock hard cock, stroking you in time with his hips.

inhumanshadows

Showertime Shenangins | Steve Harrington x Male Reader x Billy Hargrove

Cowritten with @lefteagleblizzard (Thanks again, friend! You guys should check him out!)

Request for zhellas: NSFW request for Stranger Things, where R catches Steve or Billy meatwatching in the showers, but doesn't mind. In fact, he quietly shows off.

A/n: Changed it slightly, I hope that's alright.

kortsitron

Portrait

✮ PARING Eddie Munson × Gender Neutral! Reader

✮ WARNINGS/TAGS fluff, mutual pining, artist! reader, friends to lovers, smoking, Eddie and reader are disasters for one another, love confession, date, nicknames

✮ SUMMARY You need to draw a portrait for the art club and who else is better for it than Eddie Munson himself?

✮ WORDS 3.2k

✮ A/N This came to me out of nowhere really, but it was really nice to write and took me around 2-3 days. Also with New Year coming real soon, I wish all of you a great year, more fanfics to enjoy and more inspiration for my fellow writers out there! Also thank you all so much for this year, I may have no written as much as I would like to, but I am happy yy'all keep coming back to my fics and I am also very happy for all new people who gave my writing a chance! Once again, thank you all so much, love y'all and I hope you enjoy this fic! ^^

ao3 masterlist requests

Art club. It was one of the dearest places to your heart, where you couldn't draw and sketch shamelessly, without teachers to jump at you for your lack of focus and hushed voices whispering of what you could possibly be doodling this time. It was you, your sketchbook and a few more people who understood your love for art perfectly. Especially Miss Poppy, the art teacher and the supervisor of the club, seemed to be the most excited to spend that hour with the group.

She was always happy to talk about all things art related, but she enjoyed pushing you out of your boundaries the most. Trying new things in your art to grow.

This time her words were stuck in your mind.

“I would love for you to try drawing a portrait for next week. But try drawing someone other than yourselfs, I always believed drawing someone dear can show how you perceive the said person.” She explained when it was time to get your things and make your way home.

You thought about it as you made your way through the hall. Someone dear. There was only one person suitable for the title of being dear to your heart and they were already waiting for you in front of the school building.

Eddie Munson.

strange-thing

Seven (Masterlist)

Steve Harrington x M!Reader

After Henry’s attack, you somehow survived, but you had lost almost all ability to speak. It didn’t matter if you were only one of two left, Papa hated you. You were always the weakest and he despised you for it. He only kept you around after the massacre as incentive for Eleven; his pride and joy. When she didn’t, or couldn’t do as he said he would hurt you. Papa decided that if you couldn’t use your powers then he would make you stronger in other ways and appointed you a tutor to strengthen your mind. When an opportunity to escape came you took it. You grabbed Eleven and the two of you ran as far as you could. You thought you were safe, but when Papa’s men came you and Eleven you were forced to run again. You lost her in the woods, but you stumbled upon someone else. A boy who appeared to be your age. He said his name was Steve.

(An episode by episode fic, possibly with extra chapters. Hopefully I make it through them all.)

(Updates at least weekly!)

Season One

Chapter One: The Vanishing of Will Byers

Chapter Two: The Weirdo on Maple Street

Chapter Three: Holly, Jolly

Chapter Four: The Body

Chapter Five: The Flea and the Acrobat

Chapter Six: The Monster

Chapter Seven: The Bathtub

Chapter Eight: The Upside Down

Season Two

Chapter One: MADAMX

Chapter Two: Trick or Treat, Freak

Chapter Three: The Pollywog

Chapter Four: Will the Wise

Chapter Five: Dig Dug

Chapter Six: The Spy

Chapter Seven: The Lost Sister

Chapter Eight: The Mind Flayer

Chapter Nine: The Gate

Season Three

Chapter One: Suzie, Do You Copy?

Chapter Two: The Mall Rats

Chapter Three: The Case of the Missing Lifeguard

Chapter Four: The Sauna Test

Chapter Five: The Flayed

Chapter Six: E Pluribus Unum

Chapter Seven: The Bite

Chapter Eight: The Battle of Starcourt

simp-for-steve

really recommend checking this out for all my steve gays :)

reveryfics

May I request a Steve Harrington x male reader New Year's fic?

I was thinking that Steve has been so exhausted from working an normal and extra shift at Scoops Ahoy and dealing with the recent supernatural monster that he decides to not attend the New Year's party hosted by another high schooler. He's an eepy guy and doesn't realize its even New Year's Eve day and is just dead asleep. His boyfriend (male reader) does remember though, and although he respects Steve's decision to not go to the party, he isn't going to let him miss their New Year's kiss as boyfriends (:. He climbs through his window, wakes him up, and they celebrate the New Year with a kiss and much needed rest (:! All fluff as per the usual.

New Year's Kiss

Steve Harrington x Male Reader

Summary: Exhausted, Steve opted to skip the new year festivities, but you weren't about to let him forget a new years kiss.

A/N: It isn't new years yet, but I wanted to do this one first before I work on the others you've sent in (which are all great), plus I'm desperate for some Steve fanfiction. I've been binge writing, hopefully y'all enjoy these.

CW: Fluff - Making-out - Established relationship

Words: 4.2k

joshiscool

ＣＨＡＮＧＥＤＭＡＮ（ＳＴＥＶＥＨＡＲＲＩＮＧＴＯＮＭＬＭ）

୨ৎ synopsis: a lifelong friendship with Steve Harrington starts to shift into something just as the two of you realise nothing in Hawkins stays the same forever!! (NON-NSFW) ୨ৎ pairing: steve harrington x bestfriend m!reader ୨ৎ warnings: angst, storm, alcohol, intimacy, jealousy, arguments, friends to lovers, trauma, mild language ୨ৎ WC: 2K

Hawkins is the place where nothing really changes unless it's forced to change. you and Steve Harrington lived 2 streets away from each other practically growing up with each other. you usually do things together like riding bikes to the lake, sneaking into the community pool once its closed, and talking about girls and their boobies.

you were never apart of the "King Steve" era, you watched from the sidelines. when Steve crept into popularity, you stayed in your own lane... the quiet kid who likes movies, music, and not being a cocky dick.

but Steve always came back to you, even when he got wrapped in high school popularity, he'd always at your window with your favourite milkshake or ask if they wanted to see a movie. you were his anchor, a taste back into reality, someone who didn't treat him like a trophy.

a couple years after the entire mall fire incident. things around Hawkins were different... stranger then usual. Steves personality shifted... a little bit more soft, humbler, more protective. you've also changed, you can't really explain it.

one day, you and Steve where sitting on his BMW near the WSQK eating some of the popcorn from Murrays truck and drinking Coke. Steve won't stop talking about Dustin, and Robin, and how he's trying to be "a better dude" especially now that the world might end.

"I know im probably doing dramatic," Steve admits, looking down at the tab on his Coke can. "but it's the truth... I'm trying really hard." you laugh and tell him he's doing fine. Steve looks up at you... he was looking at you for a... reasonably long time. You pretend not to notice and take a bite of the popcorn.

that night Carol Perkins, one of Steves popular high school friends, throws a party (no I don't know why an adult is throwing a shindig). which Robin... not wanting to go alone brings you and Steve along. you hate parties. Steve loves them.

inside of the house, the music is loud, the drinks are pouring, the air smells like cheap beer. You've lost track of Steve... about an hour ago, when you spot him in the corner talking to a guy who's back in town to visit his parents... he left during the evacuation with some friend.

you don't really think anything of it, you just pour yourself another drink then Steves eyes flick over to you. before you realise, Steve is walking to you. "thought I lost you." he said, drink in hand, bumping your shoulder. "you were busy," you reply smiling at him. "not with anything busy." he says back, there's... there's something in his voice something warm... something new... and it's not the smell of alcohol... although that is there.

Steve insists on driving you home... although you live 5 minutes away. In the car it's quiet, only the sound of the engine and the quiet sound of the radio, aswell as Steve tapping his fingers on the wheel. Steve is the first to speak "ever thought about... i don't know... changing things?" he suggests nonchalantly. You look at him funnily "like what?". "like... who you spend time with... and who you care about." you chuckle slightly... thinking he's joking, looking for his smile. which is absent "what... what do you mean by that?" he looks down at the wheel, then to you. "uhh... never mind" he says before giving you a look... the same one as before.

a couple days later, Steve shows up at your door, holding a stack of dads he had borrowed from Robin. "hey... umm Robin ditched me for Vickie," he says smiling softly at you. "so... you stuck with me."

during a boring action movie (Steves choice completely) he kept sneaking glances at you. "why are you looking at me." you ask quietly, not wanting to disturb the movie. "sorry... just making sure you're having fun" you laugh softly and throw a cushy pillow at him. he throws it back... you end up wrestling and Steve ends up on top of you... laughing so much that your both breathless, then something changes. his hands lay on your chest, his warm breathe on your cheek. the laughter slowly fades... dying one with this feeling, stretching the moment further and further.

you've never looked at Steve this way, the way his hair lay on his forehead... how his lips are perfectly curved. he swallows hard before rolling off you, before anything can happen, you sit up slowly... like something could break if you move to fast.

the next day, your at the community centre that Steve volunteers at, when robin corners you. "so... you and Steve" she says, smirking slightly. "there is no 'me and Steve'." you say, looking a little sad. she raises an eyebrow, "yeah right... and im the queen of England. recently Steves been weird... he's been jumpy! and distracted... and the talking... oh my gosh the talking! he docent stop talking about his feelings, its like he's allergic to them!" you laugh... a little sussed out "uhh... your probably just hearing stuff... and seeing stuff" she looks at you weirdly before pinning a simple pb and j poster on the wall. "your a delusional idiot" she says, finally walking away. letting you breathe.

next week, your helping Steve unload boxes of things like clothes and things people have donated, when he speaks up. "y/n... why are you avoiding me?" you freeze "im not!" you say defensively. "you are... and I don't get it. have I don't something wrong? did I say something?" you nonchalantly tell him nothings wrong. He grabs more boxes and slams the onto the table. "I don't believe you" he says, taking a step closer, his eyes searching yours. “Something’s different,” he adds quietly. “And I don’t know if it’s me or you or both of us, but I’m losing my mind trying to figure it out.” you panic and quickly tell him "nothings wrong. your imagining things" you grab a box and quickly leave before he can say anything else.

for the next week, you and Steve don't talk, no calls. no movie nights. no Steve. Robin glares at you every time you show up to the community centre to help out. Dustin makes jokes on how you and Steve are getting a "divorce". which you quickly regard with an "Im fine" or a "Im okay!" even though your not... your not okay.

a nasty thunderstorm rattles through Hawkins. the kind that makes everyone nervous because storms have a habit of making the lights act up. power goes out across half the town. you’re sitting in your room, staring at the dark ceiling, when someone bangs on your door.

you walk downstairs and open the door, its Steve. he's soaked, shaking, breathless. "you can't keep doing this," he says walking into your house. "you can't keep pretending everything's okay." you grab him a towel. allowing him to dry off. "Steve... I don't know what you're talking about." he steps forward, “I like you. okay? I like you. and it’s terrifying because you’re my best friend and you actually know me, the real me, not the stupid cocky Steve version. and I don’t want to screw this up, but I can’t keep pretending I don’t feel something every time you look at me.”

you stood there for a moment stunned, speechless, frozen. Steve breaks the silence with a bitter laugh, "please, say something" so you do "Steve... being completely honest. I like you... Ive liked you for weeks... months even, I just... don't want to ruin what we already have." he stares at you. that same look, just this time it's like hearing the sun rise. he steps closer, then closer, then closer. then he kisses you... likes he's been waiting his entire life for this.

he sleeps over for the night, the morning is a new morning which feels different but is still the same. Steve makes breakfast... badly, Steve calls Robin to tell her the news, you can pretty much hear the scream through the phone, dustin says he has 2 new dads. now Nancy owes Robin 20 bucks... during breakfast Steve keeps reaching down and holds your hand likes your disappearing... and you let him.

outside the WSQK you and Steve are sitting on his BMW, but this time... its different. this time he's laying on your lap. this time your holding his hand. this time he's not afraid of his feelings for you, he looks at you again. that damn face. the one ha always gives you. "you know... I think im finally the guy I should've been from the start." he smiles at you, "you always have been" you say, planting a kiss on his forehead." he laughs, the laugh he only ever does when he's with you.

ＴＨＥＥＮＤ

reveryfics

May I request a Steve Harrington x male reader New Year's fic?

New Year's Kiss

Steve Harrington x Male Reader

Summary: Exhausted, Steve opted to skip the new year festivities, but you weren't about to let him forget a new years kiss.

CW: Fluff - Making-out - Established relationship

Words: 4.2k

wellsblvd

Steve Harrington likes his nicknames. For you. He likes to call you nicknames that roll off his tongue in the heat of the moment and gauge your reaction so he knows if he can say it again.

Dear

This is, like, married couple territory. It depends on the context, but usuallllyyyy steve will call you dear if you said something obvious, something stupid, or something random. Examples follow:

violained

𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐲.

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: late nights at the squawk are never boring with steve. 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭: gn!reader. sorta quiet!reader. fluff. est relationship. slow-dancing with steve. use of pet names (honey, pretty, angel). close proximity, kisses. 881 words! after the glitter fades - stevie nicks.

masterlist. requested <3

Steve is very patient with your two left feet.

The WSQK is only you and him, now that Robin is gone for the night and off to sleep. But one of her records spins even still, on low volume. One that he found by sifting through loads of Madonna and Blondie, some Tears for Fears, too. Stevie Nicks had shone bright at him.

"You like her, yeah?" He'd asked, illuminated so prettily beneath the dim lights. A wash of tan across the curve of his nose and cheekbones even though Hawkins has been void of much sunlight. Freckles faint dots under his eyes.

thesecondplacename

A Fun night to remember.

Summary: You've managed to get the newest resident of Hawkins all to yourself.

Warnings: slight smut nothing that graphic

----------------------------------------------------

My head bumped up against the car door, in theory making out with the newest and hottest resident of Hawkins, in the back of his 1979 Chevrolet Camaro. It truly was every boy's wet dream, but I watched as he pulled back if only for a moment and severely judged how much head-way he had and practically threw his head at the roof. He let out a deep groan as he made contract.

“Fuck, pretty boy this shit isn’t working.” I wanted to say otherwise but the way I was laid squished against the leather, I was more inclined to agree. I pushed myself up elbows propping myself up.

“You think?” I watched him hold the same hunger that originally made me crawl into the back seat of his Camaro, and that look was more than tempting, but my body was already aching and not in the fun way, “We could go to my place? My parents are out. Unless you have other plans?”

A smirk came quickly as he nodded like I had just said the best thing he heard all day and not to pat myself on the back or anything but I did. I totally did. I didn't rush as I jumped into the passenger seat, wasn't buzzing with excitement. I was cool and collected, like inviting guys back to my place was second nature and not at all foreign. The car sped off hard. I barely had a moment to buckle up, aiming for casualness as I told him my address, but missing by a mile.

I didn't let myself think too much about that, as the ease he was looking at made me forget any embarrassment. I watched as he pulled up, headlight turning off. And surprisingly opening up my door for me. “Didn’t expect you to be so chivalrous.”

“Well don't get used to it,” he leaned down, lips brushing against the shell of my ear. “Gonna, be anything but kind once I get you underneath me, Baby boy.” A hard shiver ran through me as he nipped at my ear. I was screwed.

I led him inside, straight to my room, “Straight to business, hm?” His voice was light and teasing. “Well I won't complain too much,” his hand gripped my waist as he pushed his hard length against my own. “God, I'm going to ruin you.”

All I could do was nod dumbly at that, “I won't object.” What a complete stupid thing to say but it made him chuckle. So maybe that was enough.

------------------------------

Can't believe I just started watching Stranger Things. Billy's character is a total ass, but if he isn't the prettiest of boys! Literally my favorite character. This is just a small writing thing to get me back into the rhythm of writing. As of now I have my muse lol. Hopefully I can actually start writing more y/n. If I even still have people wanting my work.

dqrkhold

𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐲

𝐒𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐭𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐌!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 : giving Steve a blowjob in the showers | drabble + porn without plot

Everyone else had cleared out after practice, You'd hung back after everyone else bailed, figuring you'd have the place to yourself. Or so you thought. Pushing past the corner, you spotted him—drops of water falling down every curve of his frame, soap bubbles sliding down his pecs, over the lines of his stomach. He glanced up, catching your eye immediately. You couldn't help it your gaze dropped, taking in the full view of his body, the way his cock hung heavy between his thighs. Heat rushed to your face as you snapped your eyes back to his. "Not here," you muttered, turning on your heel to bolt.

"Why? You scared?" Steve's voice cut through the water's patter, his stupid grin audible even without looking. He knew exactly what he was doing, teasing you like this.“Of what?” You turned fully, towel still around your hips.“Me,” he said like it was obvious. Then he stepped closer—not touching you, but close enough. He moved past you, intentionally brushing your hand with his. Just enough contact to make every hair on your arm stand up. “I’ll be done in a minute,” he called over his shoulder, stepping back under the water. You inhaled—sharp. Glanced back, and before you could overthink it, you walked over. Screw it. The tile was cool under your feet as you dropped to your knees in front of him.

"Finally," Steve murmured, his voice low and rough, a satisfied rumble that sent a shiver down your spine. He shifted his stance, angling his body away from the direct stream so the water wouldn't splash into your face, giving you space to work. Steve’s hand twitched at his side, like he wanted to reach out and tangle his fingers in your hair, but he held back. Steve knew better—knew this was your show right now. You wrapped your hand around the base of his cock, feeling it thicken and pulse under your grip. "Oh, shit," he groaned, head tipping back against the wall for a beat before his eyes snapped down to watch. "Yeah, just—fuck, like that." You took him deeper, jaw stretching as you bobbed, saliva coating him in slick trails. Your hand pumped what your mouth couldn't reach.

"Deeper, c'mon... please." He was responsive, hips twitching forward in shallow thrusts he couldn't quite control. Steve's breathing turned ragged, little curses slipping out between gritted teeth. He was close—you could feel it in the way he throbbed. You pulled off with a wet pop, lips shiny and a wicked smile curving them. Precum strung from your mouth to his tip, and you let it break as you rose to your feet. Steve's eyes widened, confusion flashing before frustration hit. "What the—?" he started, but you cut him off with a quick peck to his lips, tasting soap and surprise."1-0, Harrington," you said, voice light and teasing, stepping back before he could react. You turned, grabbing your towel from the hook outside the stall, heart pounding with the thrill of leaving him hanging.

Behind you, Steve let out a strangled noise, slamming his palm against the faucet. The water cut off abruptly, soap suds splattering across the floor in a soapy arc. "Fuck," he mumbled, the word dripping with aggravation, his cock still hard and neglected, bobbing in the sudden silence. He raked a hand through his wet hair, glaring at your retreating back, but you could hear the reluctant chuckle in his exhale. Game on.

Taglist ~ @starboye @boypied @mysterymachine67 @magicstarbits @capsicleforever @loverclear @gayaristocrat @godjustkys @sluttyhusband @carnalcrows @amor-xoxo @loverboyisaac

delusionalwritingsofagay

The Morning After

Pairing : Steve Harrington x Male reader

Fandom : Stranger things

CW: None

Tags: Fluff, Unestablished relationship, No Hurt All comfort

Word count :2,600

Beta'ed: Yes

Summary : The morning After Steve and Y/N hook up, their relationship is undefined

— ✶ — ☾ — ✶ — ✶ — ☾ — ✶ — ✶ — ☾ — ✶ — ✶ — ☾ — ✶ — ✶ —

violained

𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐲.

masterlist. requested <3

Steve is very patient with your two left feet.

helpwhatsthis

hi i saw your requests were open for steve harrington and i was thinking maybe smth inspired by panic at the disco’s song Nearly Witches. Specifically the lines “Ever since we met, I only shoot up with your perfume. It’s the only thing that makes me feel as good as you do.”

Like steve longing/loving reader so much and he’s either like trying to work up the courage to take it further or smth like that? idk i don’t really request anything so feel free to completely ignore this or change it up as much as you want, im happy w anything steve x reader tbh lol

xoxo 🩵♐️

little a/n: I SCREAMED when I got this request!!! Nearly Witches is my absolute favorite P!ATD song, so thank you so much for this!

You Have Set Your Heart On Haunting Me- S.H. X GN! Reader

Thank you for requesting! Feedback and reblogs are always appreciated, I love to hear from you guys!

Title from Nearly Witches- P!ATD

Warnings: It's mostly just fluffy but Steve is YEARNING like crazy, a little clothes sniffing ngl, maybe a little angsty because he's worried the feelings aren't mutual, one dirty joke because I can't hold myself back from making the group obsessed with Steve's love life, no physical features described for GN! Reader

Trending Blogs

Recently Viewed Blogs

andrei