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clarks-letterman · 9 months

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what are you doing, step-bro? | steve harrington x reader

a/n — something short to get out of that slump! title isnt serious just the inspo behind the fic, enjoy!

words — 1.9k

summary — After a close encounter in the tunnels with the Demo-dogs, Steve finds you in a defenseless position.

warnings — reader is stuck in a "wall", anal, dirty talk, y'all know the drill by now, biblically accurate hairy steve harrington!

~~~

“Guys? Help!”

What had been an easy mission for the Party—traversing the tunnels under Hawkins to cover as much of it with gasoline—didn’t come easy for you. You found yourself buddied up with Steve, who suggested that the two of you split up when you hit a fork in the road. It made sense, each of you had a tank of gasoline, and there seemed to be no presage of danger in either path.

Then came the time when you ran out of something to douse the infected trails with, and you used your walkie, an old and unreliable TRC-206 model, to let the rest of the group know that you were on your way back to their designated meeting place. While retracing your steps, you heard a screech come from the direction you were heading back to. Your eyes darted for a place to hide, and in the dark, bluish-black tunnels, you spotted a faint red glow coming from the tunnel’s wall to your left. You darted to it, assuming that it had to lead to a little divot or room that the creature couldn’t get to. In some long stretch of your willfulness, it led to the tunnel Steve went down and you could get him to fend the alien off. It was a shot in the dark but maybe it would hit the creature head-on and confuse it long enough to save your ass from becoming an otherworldly snack.

You felt like a mouse scampering to its burrow in the night when something stirs.

But the hole was too small, and even though you could fit your upper half in, it was a struggle to get it out. You were embedded into the wall. The rest of your body was stuck on the outside of the thing you now knew to be a portal, as the air and view reflected the stories that members of the Party had shared with you—all of them being their experiences with the Upside Down. Tufted spores floated around you and reacted to your panicked breathing. You tried several times to free yourself but knew it was impossible thanks to the welling of gasoline at your feet, making it impossible to get a solid footing on the ground.

Every channel laid dormant—static being returned as you waited for an answer. Distant calls of the same monster you heard in the tunnel echoed around you here. Footsteps approached, but they were lighter, more focused, and less sporadic like an animal charging at its food. It was the human kind of gait as only two steps could be heard every second or so.

You should have known that splitting up would mean an awkward reunion. You felt at ease when Steve’s voice was the one coming from behind you. He was still in the real world and could pull you back into it. “Hey—jeez, what happened?”

“Steve, thank fuck. I tried hiding from one of those demo-monsters and got stuck. Watch out, it might still be out there.”

“I didn’t see anything, but I don’t want to wait in here to be proven wrong.” Steve shrugged off his backpack and let it hit the ground. The sound of an empty canister of gasoline rang through the tunnel.

“Get me out of here and we can handle it together, at least.” You swore Steve could have agreed, but the worlds-apart separation made some things he said unclear.

Steve spread his stance out to get as close as possible whilst not getting his shoes muddied from the infected soil and gasoline mixture at your feet. His hands—gloved and still coated with moisture and bits of dirt—took ahold of the bottom of your torso just about where the hem of your jeans hugged your body. At first, he tried pulling, a lot of pulling. When you didn’t budge, he got closer and pressed as much of himself as he could against you to find some leverage.

“C’mon…” He groaned. “I’ve never dealt with something this tight before…”

He wasn’t ready to accept defeat, not yet. There was no way in hell he would leave you stuck in the wall, Steve was firm on that. He couldn’t help but feel like he was trying to help a square that actually fit through a circular hole. Steve knew he wasn’t too far off, they were already in a place they didn’t belong in, and this tunnel system must have had passageways for creatures that surely weren’t human. As expected, his countless efforts to pull you back didn’t work.

Steve reached under you, pushing up the layers on your upper half and undoing the button on your jeans. His gloves gave him a bit of trouble but he undid it nonetheless. Cold air ruminated on your skin in all the places where your jeans used to be. You couldn’t see what he had done, but you could feel it and felt the sudden urge to ask.

“What are you doing?” The sensation of fabric layered over itself, irregularly touching you around only your shins and lower let you know he had pulled any sort of protection over your bottom half down.

“Maybe if I loosen you up, rock you back and forth a little, you’ll slip right out? It’s the right kind of movement we need, and it’ll be more fun than doing it clothed, restricting ourselves, yeah?” Steve stepped away, the heat coming off of him and onto you following him back. It wasn’t really Steve that was the issue. No, it was the situation. The noise, the heat signature—if it could read that—would be potential giveaways to your not-so-successful hiding spot.

Your view on it didn’t change, “All I need is your help, Steve.”

“All you needed was a chance to spread your legs for me and you’d do it.” The faint sound of a belt buckle, then a zipper, then the two falling in tandem play out one by one. You couldn’t see it, but he was cupping himself in his one hand. When a tent formed, he stroked himself through his boxers.

What else could you do but insist on him to quit playing games, “Just help me out, Steve.”

His presence ghosted over you again, some of his leg hair gently bristling against your own skin. His boxers must have been gone by this point, though you couldn’t be sure. “I have to help myself, first.”

“This is kind of your fault since you got me all distracted. You couldn’t go crawling in the opposite direction? Well, if it had to be your mouth I’m stuck with…” You felt a smack to your ass. His gloves were gone, probably thrown to the floor and pulled off with his mouth so he could easily send his hand flying down against your markable skin. “But this is even better.”

Steve was his own shade of red and monstrous. His cock, hot and heavy, could faintly be seen as a raging red in the soft blue glow in the underbelly of Hawkins. Blood rushed to the place he struck with his palm the same way it did to his dick. He was fully hard, and you were still solid enough to stay in place—even with his giddyap smack. Then a sharp pain—more painful than a claw or tooth from one of those Demo-demons piercing the outer layers of your body—darted throughout your body. Steve invited himself in, entered without knocking. If there was a name for a rude intrusion, it would describe the pain in your backside perfectly. You thought that he might have done something, anything to prepare you for his home-runner.

There was nothing except some pooling pre-come that had barely formed enough to cover his tip; the friction at your entrance could have been enough to start a fire then and there. A clash of feelings followed by his roughness. Both were deadly combinations with gasoline surrounding your steps, something that you were only reminded of when he entered you and made your legs shake.

He found the gas to be an easy thing to work around, finding the right footing to swing his hips in the motion he claimed would fix it all. Inch by inch, he pushed himself in and hoped that you would move with every inch he pulled out and pushed himself back in. You felt your world shift. One moment, you were jolting forward as he slammed into you, the world of the Upside Down feeling like it was leaping toward you. The next, it felt like that world was slipping away.

Steve moaned, the sound of it channeling through the barrier between the both of you. “I could loo—oh—ook at you like this all day. Just a cumdump for me.”

There was a sensibility in his words—you could be stuck for a while until the Party got shovels, excavators, whatever they needed to get you out of this mess. Until then, you could be all his and have very little power to stop him.

You tried to ground yourself in his world, how Steve felt, specifically. Maybe the thought of being back in that world would make the one you were partly stuck in show pity, if it could understand such a thing in its laws of nature. Steve was hairy, and his pubes tickled your ass when he pressed himself deep into you. His hands were a bit clammy, cold and sweaty from gripping onto you and dealing with the chill inside the tunnels. Notably, he still wore his jacket and shirt, the zipper of the jacket grazing over you with every thrust.

The zipper seemed to disappear, though, like Steve had raised his arm. And sure enough, while you couldn’t see it, he had placed a hand on the soil-like substance that the wall of the tunnel was made out of for support. His other hand came down to strike your ass, sending a harsh smacking sound through the burrow.

When you started to move less and less, the view of the world around you growing still, you could almost tell that Steve was losing his patience. He was ready to come. His intention came true as Steve gave a few final, slow plunges into you and flooded your ass with stickier webbing than what you had pushed through to get into the second world. After the sensation of it all died down for the two of you, you realized that his so-called plan barely worked.

“I haven’t moved an inch!” If anything, he fucked you further into the other world. “Tell me you're done so you can go get some actual help.”

“Not yet, I love seeing you like this, and I’ll be nice…”

You felt your pants and everything slide up your body, being lazily adjusted back into place as they had been when Steve found you. You could feel yourself leaking with his come, getting your underwear wet with him. The faint sounds of his shuffling resounded behind you, and after a moment, he smacked your ass, “Don’t go anywhere! I’ll be back with help!”

#stranger things #x male reader #x reader #gay #steve harrington x male reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington x male!reader #joe keery x y/n #joe keery x reader #joe keery #stranger things x reader #stranger things x male reader

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ameliora-j · 5 months

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i don’t know if ur into this but…

imagine steve bringing up the idea of wanting to suck ur strap before u fuck him😊😊😊

his eyes rolling back when you fuck his throat

(pls don’t feel forced to answer this)

𐐪𐑂 it’s twisted tuesday! send in ur requests ᵕ̈

content: sub!steve, dom!reader (i did a lot of this today ahaha), dick sucking, the ask says strap but it’s referred to as reader’s cock and can be read as gn!reader, face fucking (m!receiving), shy!steve, humiliation, degradation, cnc, THIS IS AN 18+ BLOG MDNI

“you want what?” you giggle softly as you gaze down at steve. you’re straddling his torso, clothes already off as you kiss steve’s lips practically black and blue. truthfully, you’d heard him the first time but you liked to watch him squirm. you loved the blush he’d get when you laughed at him.

“don’t laugh please…” he whispers, pouting sadly, though his cock twitches in your hand as his face flushes pink. you hum softly, spitting on his cock and slowly beginning to jerk him off. “i-“ he moans as you look up at him innocently through your lashes. “i wanna suck your cock… wanna use jus my spit as the lube tonight” he breathes through soft whines as you rub your thumb over the tip of his cock.

you smile lovingly at him, nodding softly as you twist your hand around his hard cock. “then get on your knees and suck my cock, bitch” you growl. steve moans at your tone, quickly scrambling to his knees. “go on pretty boy… worship my cock” you hum, pushing his hair back from his sweaty forehead.

steve moans softly, leaning forward and spitting shyly. he opens his mouth, slowly pushing your cock in his mouth. you roll your eyes in annoyance, tugging his hair to drag him fully onto your cock. “come on slut, you asked for this” you huff, shoving your cock into his mouth.

“suck it like a good slut” you grunt, beginning to fuck his face. you look down at steve, getting wet at the sight if him choking on the fat cock in his mouth. he gags repeatedly, tears streaming down his face as he looks up at you innocently.

the sight of him alone forces a loud moan past your lips as your force steve further down on your dick. “that’s a good boy” you mumble, beginning to piston your hips into steve’s mouth. he drools down his chest, pathetically humping your leg as you force your cock into his throat over and over—uncaring of his pleasure.

“get it real real wet, slut” you mumble. “remember it’s all the lube you’re getting tonight” you chuckle darkly, shooting him a wink that causes him to let out a loud whine and press his nose closer to your pelvis. “that’s a good cocksucker…” you hum, holding him down.

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undercoveravenger · 2 years

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Dancing Lights

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Male!Reader

Requested: Yes

Original Request: "Hi! I was wondering if you could write something with Steve Harrington? Like with a tall, male reader who kinda protects Steve (and is the co-babysitter). I was thinking it could take place in season 3 when the Scoops Troop is coming up to the mall from the Russian base. Steve is drugged and so is the reader, they are both profusely injured. After trying to watch Back to the Future, Steve and the reader talk in the bathroom. Steve ends up vaguely talking about his crush, the reader doesn’t realize Steve is talking about him (cliché, I know) and tries to act happy for Steve even while being incredibly jealous. That would be amazing, feel free to not do it or change anything. I love your writing!"

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You'd always thought that the Starcourt mall was beautiful, with its bright lights and brilliant colors and the wide array of shops. You and your best friend Steve had spent hours exploring all the different stores and sneaking into movies after his shifts at Scoops Ahoy, but now that you had seen what really laid beneath the towering mall, you couldn't help but feel differently.

Even now, with the floaty light-headed feeling brought on by the drugs the Russian agents had administered to you and your friends, you couldn't shake the knowledge of what you had seen at the bottom of the elevator shaft.

With more of the agents surrounding the mall, Dustin and Erica were quick to herd you, Steve, and Robin further into the building, eventually depositing the three of you in empty seats in a theater playing some new movie called Back to the Future before scurrying off out of the theater. You assumed that they were probably going to try and contact the rest of the group of troublemakers, but found yourself too transfixed by the way the lights from the movie played across your best friend's face.

Of course you had always known that Steve Harrington was handsome. It was one of the simple truths of life; the sky is blue, water is wet, and Steve Harrington was absolutely gorgeous. He always had been.

Now though, with that carefree smile and the happy giggles that kept escaping him, he was more. Steve was breathtaking, almost ethereal in your drug-addled mind, even with the rapidly-purpling bruises and the split lip.

That thought was a sobering one, killing off the slight smile that has been tugging at your lips in an instant. Throughout all the years you'd known Steve, you'd come to take on the role of his protector, of sorts, steering him away from parties before they went south, away from people who meant to hurt him, and out of bad situations. It hurt to know that you hadn't been able to protect him today the way you always had.

Steve turned, meeting your eyes as you started to get lost in your thoughts. He frowned a little at the look on your face, able to tell that something was bothering you even through the haze of his high.

“C’mon dude,” he murmured quietly, taking your hand in his and tugging you to your feet and out of the theater. He led you back into the main foyer of the mall, intent on finding out what was bothering you so damn badly, but he quickly found himself distracted by the swaying and shifting of all the lights. “Look,” he said, prompting you to follow his gaze.

You stumbled to a stop against the second-story railing, staring out over the mall. As the lights changed and blurred they began to warp your vision, spinning faster and faster until it felt like you were spinning too, stomach flipping with the feeling until you were certain that you only had a matter of minutes until you were vomiting.

It seemed that Steve was feeling similarly as he took off after you as you bolted for the nearest bathroom, finding yourselves hunched over the closest toilet bowls as you retched, emptying your stomachs of their contents.

Eventually, with the roiling of your stomach and the spinning in your mind finally settled, you sit back, leaning heavily against the cold tile of the wall. “The world still spinning for you over there?” you called over to Steve, feeling much calmer now that you were finally able to think somewhat clearly.

“No,” came his mumbled response, “It finally stopped.” He was quiet for a moment before continuing, “I don’t think the drugs are all the way out of our systems yet though; I still feel kinda floaty.”

Your brows furrowed and you found yourself looking at the divider between your stalls like you would actually be able to see him through it, “Floaty?” you asked, a little concerned.

“Yeah,” he confirmed, in that same careless way he always spoke, like the consequences of the world could never touch him. “But not bad floaty- just kinda feels like being in love.”

You huffed, tipping your head back until it thunked against the wall behind you, “And what would the great Steve Harrington know about love? I didn’t think you’d ever felt that way about anyone but Nancy.”

Steve laughed then, and you found yourself smiling at the sound, knowing that, even as injured as he was, if Steve was laughing then everything would be okay. His laughter had always been contagious like that, his moods infectious- you were happy when he was, shared in his sour moods, and outraged on his behalf when someone wronged him- but now, with his easy laughter, like you’d told some amazing joke, everything felt right again. “I know more about love than you give me credit for, dude,” Steve retorted. “I’m in love right now, y’know.”

You rolled your eyes, idly picking at some of the blood caked on your hands, “Still pining after Nancy doesn’t count Steve.”

“I never said I was still in love with her,” he pointed out. “I don’t know if I ever really was or if I just thought I was supposed to be.”

You were momentarily stunned by his admission, but you figured it was probably just the lingering effects of the drugs talking. “Okay then, if it’s not Wheeler, tell me about the girl you’re in love with.”

Steve was quiet for a few minutes and you almost wondered if he’d fallen asleep by the time he finally spoke. “It’s not someone that I ever expected to fall for,” he explained softly, “But now that I have, it’s like it’s the most natural thing in the world.” You’d never heard him like this, not even when he was dating Nancy and would talk to you about her. “People always describe falling in love as this big dramatic thing, but for me it was like- like wading into the deep end of the pool, one step in front of the other until you’re swimming and then you can’t touch the bottom anymore and that’s okay because you’re having a good time anyway.” He takes a deep breath and you can hear him shifting around on the other side of the stall divider, like he was leaning a little closer. “I’ve never known a better person- smart and kind and protective and handsome- like, oh my god, crazy stupid handsome-”

Just like that, your mind came screeching to a stop. Handsome? you wondered, If that’s the word he used does that mean…? “Steve?” you interrupted gently, “Are you- Is this person a guy?”

“Is, um, is that okay?” he asked, and you could tell he was nervous, like he was actually worried about what you might say.

You couldn’t bite back a grin, amused by the idea that you might ever not support Steve. Sure, seeing him in love with someone that wasn’t you hurt, but you would always rather Steve be happy than trouble him with something as trivial as your own feelings. “Of course it is, Stevie. I just want you to be happy.” You pressed on, ignoring the sharp spike of jealousy, “Do I know him?”

“Yeah,” he replied, “We grew up together, y’know? Same age, same interests. He’s always been a really good friend of mine.”

Your brows furrowed as you tried to think through all of the guys that you and Steve had been friends with for that long, but found yourself pretty much drawing a blank apart from Tommy H. You hoped that Steve had better taste than to be crushing on him, but there really wasn’t anyone else that you could think of. “I hope he’ll treat you right,” you said finally, still trying to puzzle out the identity of Steve’s crush.

The sounds of Steve’s laughter shook you out of your thoughts and you were stunned further as he slid under the partition into the stall with you and scrambled up to sit across from you.

“What?” you asked, suddenly feeling like maybe Steve was laughing at you. “What’s so funny?”

Steve’s lips curled up into that sweet smile you’d always loved, big brown eyes fond as they looked at you, “He takes really good care of me.”

“That’s good,” you said, forcing yourself to grin at him, despite the burning ache of jealousy. As long as Steve is happy, you reminded yourself. “I hope things work out for the two of you.”

Steve gave you an amused look before scooting closer to you, gesturing for you to lean closer like he was going to tell you a secret. He waited until you leaned in before turning his head and kissing you.

You froze, stunned, by this turn of events. Steve wasn’t deterred though, shifting closer and slipping a hand around the back of your neck to give him a better angle.

You regained your senses when Steve bit gently at your lip, pressing back against him and moving your lips against his. Your hands come up to grip his hips and draw him closer to you, lips twitching up into a slight smile as he deepens the kiss, the taste of iron strong on your tongue from the blood covering his lips and the lower half of his face.

You groaned as he pulled away, tucking your face into the crook of Steve’s neck in your embarrassment, “I take it I’m the person?”

His laughter assured you that you were right. “What do you think?” he said, running his fingers through your hair fondly, “Are things gonna work out?”

Steve’s prompting got you to lift your head and look at him again, and you couldn’t hide the smile that overtakes you. “Y’know, I think we can figure something out,” you say, leaning in to steal another kiss.

Sure, outside of this bathroom, the two of you had a war to wage, but now the two of you were together, so you knew that everything would be okay. You’d tear the world apart to protect Steve, and now you were sure he’d do the same for you.

#steve harrington x male reader #steve harrington x male!reader #steve stranger things x male reader #steve stranger things x male!reader #male reader x steve harrington #male!reader x steve harrington #stranger things x male reader #stranger things x male!reader #male reader x stranger things #male!reader x stranger things #male reader insert #male!reader #male reader #male!reader insert #x male reader #x male!reader #x reader #reader insert #stranger things x reader

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mayhemcj · 2 years

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Steve Harrington x Tall, Intimidating Male Reader

Anonymous asked:

Steve Harrington x boyfriend male reader who is super stoic and quiet and TALL and BEEFY, but around Steve he manages to smile and laugh and b all cute? :) everyone misjudges him and thinks he’s all scary n shit but Steve is all 💞💕💝💝💗💓”nooo he’s my teddy bear”

A.N.- Am I finally back? I might be, don’t hold it against me. I know it’s been forever so if you’ve stuck it through and you still follow me, you’re a real one and I love you. If you’re just passing by that’s okay too, check out my masterlist if you’d like. Love you guys, and I hope you enjoy :)

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You met Steve through Dustin, which isn't surprising

Dustin basically made you his 3rd parental figure because he saw right through the ‘tough’ facade like he did Steve and Eddie

Steve didn’t necessarily avoid you before Dustin introduced you two, but he certainly didn’t make an effort to talk to you or look you in the eye for too long

He really did find you charming and ~mysterious~ in a weird way, even if you didn’t talk much

(He wouldn’t admit that he told Dustin he was spooked by you, even if Dustin told you anyways)

Once he saw how good you were with Dustin, it didn’t take him long to develop feelings in the midst of taking care of Dustin and occasionally the other kids together

It did take him a little bit to get a good conversation out of you, coughing awkwardly when he asked a question and you gave a simple answer, and he was put off by your resting face for a while

When you two got together, he quickly found out how sweet and cuddly you actually were, and how lovely your smile was when you laughed at his stupid jokes

He always made an effort to make you laugh or smile, or to simply charm you, even if it made him look stupid

He always always looks up at you with that goofy smile and waits for your reaction

It doesn’t matter how much taller than him you are, he will put his arm around your waist when you stand next to each other

It’s okay though cause you usually rested your hand on his back or your arm on his shoulders (and maybe on his head if he was being annoying, and yes he scolded you for it)

ABSOLUTELY mom/dad dynamic with all the kids

Steve being the scolder (lovingly, of course) and you typically giving in to whatever the kids wanted to do (as long as it was safe, of course)

Max sometimes jokes about liking you better than Steve (liar, she likes you both) only because you’re less strict

”We were their age once, too, Steve”, that was your motto

Pet names like ‘Honey’, ‘Sweetheart’, ‘Babe’ were thrown around a LOT between you two

Honestly, with the kids, it didn’t take you two long to just act like a married couple

Steve is nearly always little spoon, don’t tell anyone though

(You told Dustin, he said “I knew it.” and snapped his fingers. You’re unsure how many of the others now.)

You enjoyed picking up Steve when you hugged, just to hear him yelp when his feet no longer touched the floor

The kids enjoy bombarding you and half of them just jumping on you, just for you to scramble to hold them all

They also enjoy how you keep some of the bullies off of them and some of the rest of the party, but there was only so much you could do since you’re graduated

Sometimes you enjoyed picking them up from school to watch the bullies back off when they saw you

(So sorry about all the kids’ headcanons, but honestly they’re included with Steve one way or another, let’s be realistic)

Steve likes to pretend he’s just as intimidating, but really all you need to do is stand there while he scolds whomever may be misbehaving that day

(most of the kids see right through you so it does Not work on them typically, especially Dustin and Max. You are okay with this.)

For how much he talks, you two are the perfect match. You just sit and listen to his rants.

ESPECIALLY when he’s driving, he just seems to spill all his thoughts without even thinking, and you just nod along and ask questions every once and a while

You enjoy every second of it. Sometimes you get caught sending hearteyes his way and Steve goes "What?", and you shake your head and tell him to continue

He LOVES borrowing your tshirts and hoodies/sweatshirts when he spends the night, just to sleep in because of how big and soft they are

Hugs you just to hold you there, his head either right in your neck or in your chest

Goes on his tiptoes to kiss you, forgets at some point and is laughed at by the party and he goes bright red

He’s quiet as you leave them at Will’s house and you speak up

“I think it’s cute when you do that.”

“Shut up.”

—-------------------------------------------------

#steve harrington x male reader #steve harrington x male!reader #stranger things x male reader #male reader

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teaaagan · 1 year

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Him

Dustin: Admit it, you like Steve

Y/N: Oh come on,

Y/N: I mean, am I attracted to him? Sure.

Y/N: Do my days feel better when I'm around him? Sure.

Y/N: Does he get me in ways no one ever has? Indubitably.

Y/N: Do I fantasize about him? Yes, but only in two positions.

Y/N: Am I the type of person who'd do anything for him? Absolutely.

Y/N: But do I like him?

Y/N: The answer is no.

Dustin:

#incorrect quotes #stranger things incorrect quotes #steve harrington x male!reader #steve harrington #steve harrington x male reader #steve harrington x gn!reader #steve harrington x gender neutral reader #steve harrington x fem #steve harrington x fem reader #steve harrington x female reader #steve harrington x fem!reader

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pariahsparadise · 2 years

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starstruck | s. h.

nav. | m.list

requested: nah, i've just been daydreaming about this the whole week so

wc: 0.9k

pairings: steve harrington x gn!henderson!reader

warnings: unedited work, not proofread, swearing, kissing

a/n: this was better in my head. also, i'm literally so in love with steve harrington that it's not even funny. anyways, board exams soon so this is probably the last you'll see of me for a while. OH ALSO, i've literally never learnt astrology before so my information is probably wrong, i got it off wikipedia. so yeah, don't be too picky about that lol

Steve has no idea how he ended up in this position: stargazing at Lover’s Lake, taking in the beautiful sights of the sky while desperately trying (and failing) to keep his eyes off the real beauty next to him, you.

Your brother naps somewhere to the right of you both, his huffs gentle and features relaxed. You had joked that he was only ever tolerable when he was unconscious, and Steve’s immediate agreement had both of you muffling chuckles into your hands, not wanting to wake Dustin up. Although, this had been all his idea.

Dustin had been the one to drag the two of you out here, talking your ears off about this new telescope Suzie had been designing. He had enlisted Steve’s help early on, so you saw Harrington more around the house than usual, something you didn’t know was possible. The two had holed up in his room for weeks on end, trying time and time again to build a functional model, before finally achieving a working, albeit kind of collapsing, telescope. Dustin insisted they try it out that very night- smart, considering it was held precariously in place by various pieces of tape- and invited you along.

Which brings us back to Steve’s current predicament: you. You look unfairly gorgeous right now, he decides, bathed in the light from constellations he couldn’t name. You’re lying on your back on one of the soft blankets you had the foresight to grab on your way out of the house, him next to you. He can feel the heat of your shoulder as it presses into his, feel the softness of your thigh when you shift to get more comfortable, the blanket little protection from the rocky ground underneath you.

“Look!” you exclaim suddenly, and Steve’s eyes jump, following the point of your finger to the sky, squinting at the little lights shining in the distance.

Taking a glance at Steve’s furrowed eyebrows, you explain further, “It’s the Big Dipper. You know, the asterism in Ursa Major?”

“Oh yeah, totally,” Steve bluffs, wishing he was even half as smart as you or Dustin are. You mistake his cluelessness as disinterest, biting your lip in nervous regret as you say, “Not a big astrology fan?”

“I guess? I never really understood the point of it, or how to tell which constellation was which. I, uh, actually don’t know any.” Steve offers a little quickly, having noted your slightly crushed expression and wanting to be rid of it as soon as possible.

“Really?” you ask him, raising an eyebrow, eyes darting over his face.

“Yeah. Why’s that so surprising?” Steve asks, cheeks heating as your eyes travel the bridge of his nose.

“Because you’ve got so many right here,” you say, your hand coming up to cup Steve’s face delicately, a soft thumb brushing over his cheekbones.

Steve stops breathing.

You don’t notice his still body, opting to continue. Gently, you dot five freckles on his left cheek, before tracing them in a figure. “That’s Aries,” you whisper to him. You gently poke his nose as you shift your hand to the right side of his face. Steve can’t even count the amount of moles you touch before you’re stringing them together, linking them with the warm trail your finger brands on his skin. “Perseus,” you say simply, unphased, while Steve’s heart practically beats out of his chest at the attention and proximity.

“Oh! And my favourite,” you say, hand cradling his jaw as you crane it up slightly. You tap three freckles in a sequence before tracing them together, “Orion’s belt.”

“I like how it’s hidden away here,” you say quietly when Steve doesn’t move to speak (he literally can’t though, his throat almost hurts with the words warring against each other.) “You kind of have to look a little harder for that one.”

“You’ve really been studying me, huh?” is all Steve can come up with after a few seconds of tense silence.

You grin at him, “You could say that. You have more on your back, by the way. It’s really cool.”

Steve wonders if knocking the air out of his lungs comes naturally to you, considering how easily you always manage it. The thought of you going out of your way to look at him, to really see him, to see beauty, constellations, where others saw only imperfections and blemishes causes emotion to lodge in his throat. “No one’s ever said anything like that to me before,” He admits to you weakly, “I always thought they were ugly.”

You sit up, indignant, aghast. Steve follows your motion with surprise, sitting up next to you, but still wishing you were closer.

“How can you say that?” you choke out the words, your hands going to Steve’s cheeks to once again smooth over the beautiful markings on his face.

“Steve Harrington,” you say quietly. He finds your eyes, the grave seriousness in them strikingly beautiful to him.

The crickets have stopped chirping, and Dustin no longer snores. Or maybe Steve’s just so focussed on you that he’s blocking all other noises out. Either way, when you next speak, it’s all he hears.

“Your face is made of the stars, Steve,” you tell him honestly, “You contain multitudes of beauty.”

Once again, Steve wholly regrets not being as intelligent as you, as poetic. But when his lips touch yours, unable to hold back any longer, when his hands slide around your waist, fitting into the grooves there that may as well have been built for him, it doesn’t matter anymore. Nothing matters except for you and the stars, the ones you make him see.

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ashwhowrites · 8 months

Note

Eddie or Steve x male where they walk in on male reader putting on makeup 🤭 reader has been curious about makeup for a long time but it's obviously worried about what people would think, so let's say he asks Nancy or robin for help!

(bonus points if it leads to smutty smut)

I remember watching my partner do his makeup on FaceTime and I literally fell in love again.

sorry, no bonus points :(

I hope this is what you were looking for and okay with it being a headcanon

Never proofread

Y/N has been curious about makeup for a long time

Always amazed as he watched Nancy get ready for her date with Jonathan

The gloss on her lips

The blue eyeshadow swept across her lid

Y/N wanted to look pretty too

Nancy noticed their distant stare

Turning away from the mirror as she looked at him

"Y/N? Are you alright?" Nancy asked

"Oh yeah!" Y/N brushed her off

But his eyes stayed on her makeup

She caught his eye

"Want to learn? Steve is coming in about twenty minutes, right? I can teach you."

Steve walked into Nancy's room

The door open as he strolled in

Some might find it weird that his boyfriend and ex were best friends

But nothing in Hawkins was ever normal

Steve watched in awe as Y/N put mascara on his long eyelashes

The tiny smile on his face as he coated his lips in gloss

"Well you look pretty, baby" Steve said

Y/N smiled as he looked at him

Steve now noticed his blue eyes and black eyeliner

The blush that coated his cheeks

Steve let his urges get the best of him

He leaned down and pecked Y/N's lips

Pulling away as he smacked his lips

"Hmmm, strawberry?" He asked with a smirk

"It is" Y/N giggled, now reapplying the lip gloss

"What made you want to try makeup?" Steve asked

Y/N nervously bit his lip

"always wanted to try but it's not common for boys to wear makeup and I didn't want people to make fun of me."

But Steve was quick to kiss his worries away

"You look absolutely stunning, and I'll beat the shit out of anyone that doesn't like your makeup." Steve threatened

Locking his lips with Y/N's again

"STOP RUINING MY LIPGLOSS!"

#steve stranger things #steve harrington fluff #steve harrignton #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #steve Harrington x male reader #steve Harrington x male!reader #ashwhowrites #steve harrington requests #steve Harrington fluff x male reader

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tomurderornottomurder · 2 years

Text

gay = happy; steve harrington

pair. steve harrington x male!reader

summ. (request) with the overwhelming realization that reader is not only gay but in love with steve, he is found crying by steve. there's a confession and comfort <3

gen. angst (mostly), fluff

tw. heavy internalized homophobia, crying, pretty distraught reader, kisses

wc. 1.4k+

note. i took this request and ran w/ it sorry if it's not really what you wanted, i do apologize but this was fun to write :)

Steve being Steve and how comfortable he is around you, he just walks straight into your room when he arrives at your house. You couldn't blame him for just entering; hell knows how many times you've gone straight to his room when visiting him. But today wasn't a great day for him just to come in because you're crying and you feel stupid about it. What makes it worse is that you're crying over him. So, yeah, maybe now isn't the greatest time for him to come in unprompted.

Steve's eyes widen at your pathetic form, curled over yourself with your head hanging low, and tears flowing from your eyes. You're wrapped up in blankets too as your puffy eyes meet his soft, sweet, brown ones. As soon as your eyes meet his, just wanting to know who the hell it is, you dart them away, ducking your head down as well. You couldn't let him see you like this. It isn't because you're crying, you've cried in front of him so many times now; it's just that you feel ugly and you know you look it. The ugliness of your heart seeped out from your chest spreading from limb to limb like a fast-growing mold and it was obvious to anyone that you were a disease-spreading freak, ready to spring out and claim its next victim. You didn't want to make Steve a victim.

You're determined to not make him your victim. It's bad enough, you think, that he hangs out with you because you don't deserve it, deserve him. So, when Steve takes a seat on the edge of your bed, right next to your feet, and like he always does, you turn away from him. You hold your blanket up over yourself like some sort of shield to prevent him from the infection that is you. You are a disease, an infection, a sick individual. (All because you want to love a boy). You can't let Steve be one, too; he's normal and brilliant and should stay that way, (at least if you can help it).

"Hey," Steve says, a little raspy like when he's being serious. He turns to face you even with your back toward him and reaches out to touch your shoulder. He feels the soft, fuzzy blanket adorning your shoulder as his fingertips barely brush against it, afraid that if he presses too hard against you, you'll shatter into a million pieces; susceptible to further breakage from his clumsy footsteps, destroying your shattered pieces further. He pulls his hand back and speaks again, feeling his voice on the verge of shattering itself, "I know something's wrong, Y/n. What is it?"

Your brain twists his well-meaning words sour and hurtful like he's accusing you of something; like he knows your dirty little secret. "Nothing," You snarl, snapping your jaw like a wild dog and turning your head wildly to the side.

Steve didn't mean to poke whatever bear seemed to be possessing you but he had so what was the risk in getting closer? He scoots closer, settling for his shoulder resting against your back. "I- I don't know what happened today or if someone said or did something but please," His hands are pressed together as he shakes them, "just tell me. Let me help you, N/n, please."

You sigh. As you lift the blanket and uncover your head, turning your body toward him, and looking sheepishly in his direction, it feels like you're infecting him; he's in danger because of you. "Steve," Your voice is wobbly and a tear manages to fall on time with the utterance of his name. "I'm only telling you this because I respect you, I like you, I-" You can't manage the last phrase, cutting yourself off before getting choked up. "I'm only telling you this because I can't stand lying to you, alright?" You meet his eyes undeterred and ravenous, ready to spit out your poison so that Steve may leave and warn others about you and your ways.

Steve nods, opening his mouth to say something but promptly closing it, licking his lips, and preparing himself for whatever you might say. He just hopes it isn't murder (not because he'd hate you or anything but man, he doesn't want to dig a grave). He doesn't do this much, at least not in public, because you're both men but he even reaches out so subtly, taking your hand in his that you don't quite notice it until he squeezes in assurance.

"Steve, people don't like me, girls don't like me. I don't like girls. I just thought it was... I don't know," You say defeated. "I know why they don't like me and I don't like them." You wish you could get out of this now.

You hold your breath unconsciously, tensing your muscles as well. "I'm gay." You slip your hand from under his, pulling it in toward yourselves like Steve'd be infected with its lingering presence.

Steve's more shocked at the pulling away of your hand than the revelation that you like men. He misses your touch even only in the few seconds of its absence. His face automatically falls with said loss of touch and you take that as a bad sign. "Okay," He looks at you seriously, scanning his eyes over your face. "That doesn't change anything."

Your eyes almost bulge out of your head at his words. Nothing has changed? How? Why? This was a new world for you, how could it be so easy for him? "What?" You don't actually mean to ask that but the word slips past your lips.

He's smiling naturally as he says in a bubbly tone, "It doesn't change anything." He takes both of your hands now. "Doesn't change a damn thing," He squeezes your hands and wipes the tears from under your eyes. He pulls you toward him, wrapping his arms around you, holding you safe and warm in his arms.

You can't even hug back far too shocked. You thought you were disgusting, an illness. Steve didn't see that. But how? Surely your second revelation would change his mind.

Feeling no reciprocation, Steve pulls back, holding you by the shoulders. "Hey, is there something else?" His eyes are far too soft to be cast on such a disgusting creature like yourself.

"Yes," You nod, throat dry and mind still fuzzy from his acceptance. But that would soon be gone.

"Okay, what is it?" He asks eagerly.

"I-" His hands on your shoulders are too much. You take his hands and gently rest them on his lap before standing in front of him. "I- I'm in love with you."

A beat of silence.

Steve laughs but you don't see what's so funny. "Are you kidding?" He asks incredulously; you can tell he's mad. But then he's got a smile that's a mile wide and he stands up himself. As soon as he stands, you're chest to chest, and again he wraps his arms around you. This time he lifts you up, moving you along with his torso from side to side. He sets you down and presses a kiss to your cheek. "Are you kidding me, L/n?" His eyes are wide as he looks down at you. "I've been in love with you forever! You are literally my dream man!"

Just like that, you're crying again but for a different reason now.

"Hey, hey," He takes your face in his hands, "none of that." He leans down the little bit he needs to and presses kisses where each and every tear streaks down your face. He pulls back still holding your face like it's the world in his hands (because it is). "We're supposed to be gay, remember?" He looks down at you seriously. "We're supposed to be happy!"

"Pft," You shake your head and playfully hit his chest, laughing at his corny little pun. You drop your head, leaning against his chest, and wrapping your arms behind him.

"That's more like it," He smiles as he wraps his arms around you and rests his chin on top of your head.

It'd take some time to definitively sort out your feelings but for now, Steve's warmth is enough.

#murder writes #murder's requests #steve harrington x male!reader #steve harrington x male reader #steve harrington x m reader #steve harrington x m! reader #steve harrington x male! reader #steve harrington x reader

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cassiopeiaemiliagaunt · 2 years

Text

Home is a Person | S.H.

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Reader

Summary: Steve catches you in a lie and you’re forced to tell the truth about your home life. However, you did not expect the confessions that followed.

Word count: 1.5k

Warnings: quite angsty, reader has absent parents + an absent brother, hurt/comfort, Steve is a good, gentle friend, angst with a happy ending, lot’s of cursing oops Also, this fic doesn’t have any gendered pronouns towards reader, so it can be read as a GN!reader :))

Author’s note: Did I just write a Christmas fic in the middle of summer? Perhaps. Also, this is my first time writing for Steve so feedback is much appreciated!

Disclaimer: GIF isn’t mine :))

✶✧✶✧✶

“Y/n? What are you doing here? Didn’t you say you had plans with your parents?” Steve’s voice is loud enough to be heard through the headphones connected to your Walkman. You look up at where he’s standing in front of your table, not sure how you are going to bullshit yourself out of this one.

✶✧✶✧✶

It’s 10 p.m. on Christmas and you’re sitting all alone at a diner at the edge of town - the only diner that is open on the holiday. As you have been doing for the last few years. Molly, the nice older woman who always works this shift, has placed your favorite milkshake next to you on the table. “On the house,” she’d insist, as she did every year. In a weird fucked up way, it has become the closest thing to a Christmas tradition you could imagine.

A few nights ago, you and your friends – consisting of Steve, Eddie, Nancy and Robin – hung out, enjoying a movie night. After, Nancy had asked what everyone’s plans were for Christmas and after hearing everyone’s plans to do stuff with their family, you lied and said you’d spend the day with your parents.

Truth is, you haven’t seen them since August. They’re in England now, you think. Or was it New York? You can’t keep track anymore. Ever since you were the ripe age of 14, they started leaving you alone more and more. It started out as a few days at a time. It gradually changed to a few weeks and when you were 15 they fucked off to god knows where for a few months, consequently missing your birthday.

You would say you’re used to it. To the big house and the dark backyard. The silence that rung at night. The loneliness. But you could never get used to it. The sadness of being left alone, of not being cared about by your family, clung to you like a small dagger plunged into your heart. And you were unable to pull it out.

It had all started when your brother left. He was seven years older, but you loved him. And you were under the impression that he loved you, too. Maybe he did. But he didn’t love you enough to stick around. Once he was 18 he left and never turned back. He occasionally called. A quick call to let you know he was still alive. He never called more than five minutes, though.

Then, only a few years later, your parents started to pull away from you as well and the wound your brother made only enlarged. It was then you decided you didn’t need anyone. You carefully built walls around you and you were even cautious around your closest friends, not letting them know the situation with your parents.

So, you told them you would spend Christmas Day with your parents, having a nice meal together and other normal family stuff. You knew that if you told them the truth, you’d certainly get an invite to all of their Christmases, but you didn’t want some pity invite. You weren’t ready for them to know that sad side of you yet, weren’t ready to part from your independence.

And yet, you knew deep down you hadn’t fooled Steve. Every time you told a white lie about your parents - usually because people asked about them - you could see a suspicion forming in Steve’s eyes. He could see how you would get uncomfortable about the topic and as he lived quite close to you, he never saw a car in your driveway, with the exception of yours.

Maybe he noticed because his relationship with his parents is similar. His father was away often, but you knew Steve preferred it. You could tell he and his father didn’t get along from the way he talked about him and how he’d be more on edge during the periods of time his father was home. His mother was home more often and you had the impression they got along pretty okay. He had also said he’d be spending Christmas with her.

✶✧✶✧✶

“Oh, hey, Steve! What are you doing here?” you ask him awkwardly, completely ignoring his question about your parents, hoping he’d drop it.

“I could ask you the same thing, Y/n. Are you here with your parents?“ he asked again. It was obvious the table was only occupied by you. There was only one plate of - now eaten - food and only one milkshake.

“I-, um-,” you clear your throat, “well, um no actually.” You start biting your lips, a clear sign that you were getting uncomfortable with the topic.

Steve sighs. “Can I sit here?” he asks you, gesturing to the seat opposite you. You can only nod. Steve settles down and considers you. The silence that envelops the both of you gets more awkward with the second

“Why don’t you just tell me – us, your friends – what’s really going on?“ he asks finally.

You look down at your hands, not knowing what to answer. He’s onto you and you don’t know what to do next.

“Nothing’s going on, Steve, I don’t know what you’re talk-“ you start eventually.

“That’s a crapload of shit and you know it, Y/n,” he interrupts you harshly. This whole conversation was beginning to trigger your fight or flight response and it seems like your brain has decided to fight.

“Why do you care, huh? It’s my life and it’s none of your fucking business! I really don’t see why you decided to come in here and bother me about it!” you know it’s unfair of you, you know he has the best of intentions, but you feel like you’re being driven into a corner and it makes you lash out.

“I care because I care about you!” Steve matches your energy, clearly not wanting to let it go.

“Why, huh? Why do you?” you ask him, harshly.

“Because I like you, Y/n! I like you so fucking much! Fuck, I-, you’re so amazing and yet you close yourself off and you don’t let any of us help you and we really want to, okay? I want to!” Steve exclaims.

It seems your brain has now decided it’s time to flight.

“I, I gotta go, I’m sorry,” you say, grabbing your stuff. You leave a couple of bills for Molly and practically run out of the diner, ignoring Steve as he yells your name.

You make it outside to your car before you start crying. You’re searching for your keys in your bag, but your eyes are blurry, your bare hands are cold and the sky is black. A sob rakes through your body before you can stop it.

You hear footsteps approaching you and you don’t have to turn around to know who it is. You’re gently being pulled into muscled arms, holding you close, keeping you warm.

“Hey, it’s alright, you can let it out,” he comforts you gently.

You wriggle out of his grip and face him with your tear stained face. “I need you to leave, okay? Because that’s what you’ll do eventually! It’s what everyone does! My fucking brother left! And now my parents! And I cannot go through that again! So I need you to leave now because if you don’t, you’ll make me fall in love with you even more and then you’ll go and I’ll be left behind again,” you yell in his face.

A look of understanding dawns on his face and you realize you just told him about your parents, about your deepest hurt and that you love him.

“Hey, Y/n, I’m not going to leave you, ‘kay? I love you and I have since the second Robin introduced me to you and I can’t imagine ever leaving you,” he tells you, calmly. Like it’s nothing. Like it’s obvious. Like it’s not exactly everything you ever yearned for.

You can’t do more than just nod, not really sure what to do with yourself. “Can I hug you now?” he asks, smiling gently. You nod again, tears still streaming down your face. He wraps his arms around you and holds you tight, whispering I love you in your ear.

You pull your head back from his chest to look him in the eyes and only see the same love you feel. The loneliness still clings to you, but it’s less strong.

His gaze drops to your lips and flicks back up to your eyes. He leans closer, eyes flickering between lips and eyes, quietly asking for permission. You nod and it’s all he needs before he attaches your lips. It feels like coming home and fireworks and cozy movie nights and so much more. It’s more than a kiss, it’s a promise.

When you break away, Steve holds your cold face between his cold hands and smiles. “Let’s get you home, okay? It’s freezing cold outside.”

You feel more at home in his arms than you ever did in that big, empty house. Maybe your home is Steve. Maybe you are home. But you let him guide you to his car, knowing you’ll always be home when you’re with him.

✶✧✶✧✶

A/N: That’s it! Let me know what you think about it ;))

#steve harrington #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington angst #steve harrington hurt/comfort #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x male!reader #steve harrington x female!reader #steve harrington x gn!reader #steve harrington x you

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whiskeybeforesunset · 2 years

Text

Just a Crush | Steve Harrington

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Male!Reader

Word Count: 545

Synopsis: Takes place during Steve’s “little nuggets” conversation with Nancy. Reader is romantically interested in Steve (to what degree, I’ll let you decide) and has a moment of self reflection when he hears what Steve is saying.

Warnings: Angst, BIG self deprecation is this one fellas, period appropriate internalized homophobia, unrequited love, unhealthy pinning, Billy Joel (sorry not sorry)

Author’s Notes: I want you all to know that you are valid. Whether or not someone is interested in you romantically does not reflect your worth as a person. That being said, enjoy the angst.

Part 2

—

The mobile home’s rickety axel caused the vehicle to jostle in a nauseating way. It certainly wasn’t the most luxurious of getaway cars, but it would have to do. In an attempt to distract yourself from the unsettling motion, you peer out the window. The trees here seem endless; the midday light filtering through them creates an ethereal glow that might be calming if not for the situation.

“How’s it handle?” Nancy’s words bring you out of your distracted state.

“Not that bad,” Steve replies. “Considering that this is a… house.”

This moment feels private somehow. Despite the vehicle being packed full of people, it’s almost as if you shouldn’t be listening in on it. You consider putting on some headphones but then:

“It’s silly but I,” Steve stammers out. “I always had this dream that I’d have this really big family, a full brood of Harringtons.”

As Nancy laughs, you feel as though your heart is being torn out. You realize that Steve never saw you as part of his future. No matter how much the night you spent together meant to you, for him it was just another ‘date’ to cope with the loss of Nancy, albeit a slightly more experimental one.

God how stupid were you to think Steve Fucking Harrigton of all people would ‘come around.’ It’s not as though you’re entirely incapable of understanding why he feels the way he feels. Nancy is beautiful, intelligent, ambitious, funny: the perfect woman. And you, well, you aren’t even a woman. You could never give him the life he wants. You can’t give him a family, or get married, or hell, even hold hands in public with him.

But god, you would kill for him to look at you the way he looks at her. Like you’re the solution to all his problems, the missing piece that would make him complete. To be the first person he reaches to protect when there’s a sign of danger. But you’re not that person, and you never will be.

“Hey, you alright?” Robin’s voice brings you back to reality.

“Yeah, I um-” you clear your throat, not realizing how watery your eyes had become. “Just zoned out there for a minute, nothing to worry about. No Vecna, I promise.” You reassure her with a tight lipped smile.

“Ok, well,” she glances towards Steve before meeting your eyes again. “If you ever need to talk… about anything, I am here.”

You’re pretty sure Robin knows, maybe not the full extent of the issue since you’ve never told her about it out of respect to Steve, but she knows.

“Thanks, Robin.” You say as you look back at Steve once more. Him and Nancy are sharing a meaningful look.

“That sounds nice,” Nancy nearly whispers.

You sigh, deciding you’ve tortured your self enough, you slide your headphones over your head and close your eyes. As All For Leyna by Billy Joel plays, you can’t help but think how ridiculous it is that you're getting ready for an apocalyptic event and all you can seem to worry about is that the boy you have a crush on doesn’t like you back. Because that’s all it is right? A crush?

Yeah. You silently confirm to yourself.

Just a crush.

#Steve Harrington #Steve Harrington X Reader #Steve Harrington X You #Steve Harrington X M!Reader #Steve Harrington X Male!Reader #Steve Harrington fic #Steve Harrington FanFic #Stranger Things Fanfic #Steve Harrington Fan Fiction #Steve Harrington Angst #Stranger Things Fan Fiction #Stranger Things Angst #Angst #Just a Crush #Male!Reader #M!Reader #M!Reader fic #Male!Reader fic

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elzswr · 2 years

Text

steve harrington x reader.

“i’m coming!” you yelled, agitated to whoever is knocking on your door at 11 pm.

your scowl dropped when you opened the door seeing steve harrington leaning in your threshold while pouting at you.

“steve? something wrong, hon?” you asked worriedly and helped him inside your house.

he looked at you tearfully then he sniffled, “yeah. have to tell you somethin’”

you hummed, sitting him down in the couch before getting him a glass of water.

“but you have to promise not to get mad.” he said when you cameback from the kitchen. you looked at him confused before nodding.

he took a sip of the water you gave him before looking at you and sighing heavily.

“i...i think–i like you.” he said hesitantly, looking at anywhere except from you. “i mean–you don’t have to like me back. but–uhm, i just wanna get it off my chest because i don’t wanna keep secrets from you because were friends and–”

“what are you saying?” you asked confused, cutting off his rambling. he looked at you in panicked, afraid that he messed things up. before he can even apologize you grabbed his face gently in your hands. he almost sobbed at the feeling of your warm hands in his face.

“steve. we’ve been dating for two years.” you said, looking straight in his glassy eyes.

he blinks twice before gasping loudly, “we are?” he asked, eyes widening.

“yes?” you deadpan. “how much did you drink?”

“just a lil’ bit, baby.” he slurred, eyes drooping slightly before grinning at you.

you rolled your eyes at him, sighing before smiling softly, “what am i gonna do with you?”

“uh, love me unconditionally?” he answered with a dopey smile with a light shrug.

“okay. if that’s what you want.” you said, shrugging nonchalantly.

“uh huh, that’s what i want and need.”

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x gn!reader #steve harrington x male!reader #steve x reader #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington drabble #steve harrington imagine #joe keery #joe keery x reader #stranger things fluff #stranger things x reader #stranger things imagine #stranger things #i’m sleepy while writing this so i dunno

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clarks-letterman · 2 years

Note

Steve Harrington x Male reader — So like, your boyfriends, which is a surprise in itself cause like steve didn’t think he’d fall for a guy, but you find yourselfs in the back of “family video” fucking, STEVE IS BLOWING YOUR BACK OUT- this could include (before hand) and assemble of touching, shy chaste kisses and sarcastic (but cute comments) which leads to steve punishing your sorry ass in the back (riding him-) 🫣

yasss lemme put u on somethin' (also sorry for this being late, writer's block do be kicking my ass into next tuesday)

a/n — this has some crackfic to it, but to be fair, Stranger Things is full of crackfic humor sooooo

warnings — 18+! Smut, Steve blowing your back out with his massive-

words — 1.84k

summary — check the request!

~~~

The slowly repeated clack of one sole computer key bringing down the equally slowly refreshing digital screen set the tone for the imminently stale afternoon: utter boredom. Each name flickered on the digitizer as your eyes trailed along the lines of information, checking one vital row running down the screen in solid green lettering—the account holders of Family Video's current rentals and if they were overdue to return any of them.

Surprisingly, the lessees renting videos from the store managed to indemnify everything on time, making your job a slog since everyone was responsible when presented with a deadline. You were looking for people who refused to return what they borrowed for whatever arbitrary reason they listed and calling to convince them to remit the fines.

What was less of a surprise was that it didn't bring much joy to scroll through the hundreds of names of the residents of Hawkins that all had an account at this here neon-consumed video store. There were far too many people to actually get through the list in one day, let alone the last couple hours of your shift.

It could have gone faster if two people were plowing through the list, but Steve, on the other hand, seemed to be having a blast restocking the final few shelves in the store with different videotapes. You gave your eyes a break from the straining blue light by looking over to check on his progress, praying that he was nearly done furnishing the shelves to help you with this, to which he was still hunched over, placing cheesy romance movies of all kinds along the bottom row.

You were about to get back to the grind of checking for overdue rentals when something from earlier in your shift urged you to connect the mental dots that formed in your brain. Your shift rotation started at noon, and you had arrived only to dash to the back to check for any new shipments as a new feature film had finally hit video, and you had no plans to miss out on being the first to own a copy. Not only did you love the movie, but you wanted to get it for you and Steve to watch together. Regardless, nothing new had arrived, and the back room was full of boxes containing dozens of restocks for every movie you could think of, along with their corresponding promotional posters.

Returning to the front area of the store, you found Robin and Steve chatting in between the shelves for romance and comedy as Steve filled the bottom ledge with a few boxed films before inconspicuously pulling them off of it and placing them back into the cardboard box they shipped in. That would mean that Steve had been purposefully cycling through the same work all day, avoiding the worst tasks required by the job's standards.

You turned on your chair, smugly leaning over the forest-shaded counter with your arms easily sliding into place over the other to give you an equally derisive look to match. In a jeering tone, you teased your co-worker, "Didn't you already stock that area, Harrington?"

He turned to look at you, the harsh neon-orange lighting of the display shaming the half of him facing away from you as it competed with the golden glow from the front windows. He hung his head in defeat, admitting under a low mumble, "Yeah."

You pressed on, "Then why are you doing it again?"

Steve returned to placing each tape on the shelf, "To memorize the titles."

"I thought you didn't like romance movies? You always said that your hair had 'more charm than a prince on the screen.'"

"And I thought I didn't like guys, but here we are."

"What was that?"

"Nothing."

"Okay, what's up? Did King Steve finally lose the title of employee of the month? Or run out of Faberge products this morning?" He finished stocking the shelf for what you guessed was for the second time that day, and your eyes followed as he stood and paced over to the check-out counter with a vexing look on his face.

"Don't disrespect the hair," Steve spoke, setting down the vacant box in his hands and pointing a single finger to his carefully cared-for hair.

You were leaning far enough over the counter to stretch your arm out to the nape of Steve's neck, ushering it further northbound into the mess of his dewy yet soft hair and pulling him closer to you until he was a short breath away, "What's the real reason, Steve?"

“Do I really have to say it?" Steve uttered quietly with a hint of snark and raised his shoulders in defense, letting them fall as he admitted how he felt, "I’m bored at work.”

You waved what he said off as you spoke, distancing yourself from him as you casually fell back into the stool near the computer, “With me around? Never.”

A glint of something more rose to the gloss of Steve's eyes, reflecting in the neon lighting lining the walls—an idea had come to him, but you didn't know what it could be. “You’re right—hey, uh, can you help me with a new shipment in the back?”

Your brows knitted together faster than a grandma determined to make the itchiest Christmas sweater imaginable. Somehow, both seemed unpleasant on you as you spoke, "But I didn't see anything earlier."

He neared the entrance to the storage room, turning on his heel and letting his back softly press against the door, "I know, but there's something else you could help me unpack."

"Steve Harrington, you are insane," You mused while shooting up and rounding the shaded counter, closing in on Steve as he backed into the door of the supply closet, a hand of his embracing the small of your back as the other reached for the handle. He flung the door open and pulled you into the small room meant for new shipments and stock, not bothering to shut it. Guiding you to a few stray and scarcely stocked shelves next to the door, Steve reached down to fish out a condom from the pocket of his flares before carelessly throwing it onto the rack behind you and attacking your neck with aggressive kisses.

You turned your head to give him better access, leaving the open door in plain sight. Keeping the room visible was risky, for one thing. No one would be at the counter to ring someone up, and anyone with a curious eye could stumble into the room and see what was happening. But it was a slow day, and Steve was anything but slow when it came to getting his hands on you. He parted from your supple neck, and within seconds, you had rid each other of the dark green vests and underlying shirts, leaving the both of you exposed from the waist up.

You pulled him in for a quick buss as your hands traversed his bushy chest and along the line of hair trailing down his abdomen until you reached the buckle of his pants. Loosening Steve's flares—which grew increasingly tighter with each second of contact that passed—proved to be an easy task, and with that, his boxers went down with the rough denim and bunched at his ankles.

There was a brief moment where you eyed his cock and realized that Steve's glory days could be traced back to the thing between his legs; being a massive dick in high school really reflected what he was packing his pants, and what he sported was a heavy hitter—just like him on the baseball team, as he could make you see the same stars he aimed to hit every home run to at each game. From the tip of his thick slugger to his sagging baseballs, Steve Harrington was perfect.

"Let me see that ass," Steve ordered, flipping you around so that your hands rested on the cold shelves behind you as he shoved down your pants.

He stretched a hand past you to reach for the rubber idly waiting on the shelf, his hand disappearing out of view. Only the sounds following it could inform you of what was happening from behind, being a tear of the packaging and a slight hiss of air before the soft crinkle of the rubber unfurling down his length.

"Guess extra-large isn't enough," Steve remarked, admiring how the lubed elastic barely managed to reach the base of his cock, the dark hair surrounding it meeting the taut ring at the bottom.

You turned your head, looking back to him, "Really? I guess you can't read because that says it's small."

He took a step forward, his hand cupping the folds of your ass, "You wish it was."

Steve removed one hand to get a hold of his girth, slipping himself past your cheeks with ease and towards your hole. A sudden jolt of sharp pain from your back-end sent you forward, going limp against the rack of shelves you leaned on for support, the palm of your hand coming down atop the surface of the metal with one hard smack and an ensuing moan. For as big as Steve was, you were surprised that his previous endeavors in the bedroom hadn't left your ass used to his thickness.

He pumped inch after inch into your ass, watching as your hole stretched wide for his shaft, which was a far cry from the tip of his cock, needing much more courage to take the further he went. While his impressive size clouded your mind, your own pleasure trudged through the fog, searching for something to take hold of. Steve didn't waste any time burying himself into you, though, and a hand took hold of your cock, stroking it with a single hand. His other hand, however, claimed the spot next to yours on the shelf, using it for stability as his movements inside you became greedy.

Steve repeatedly buried himself deep into you, addicted to the sounds of his skin smacking against yours when he bottomed out with each swing of his hips. It seemed like each one was a tick to count the moments building to the mounting climax inside him, and his increasingly louder noises only proved that theory. Minutes passed, and you started to feel the same.

Like rewinding a watched video tape, Steve was sick of being stuck at the end and holding off for his own pleasure. With a few final thrusts, he spilled himself out inside the rubber confines and kept pumping your shaft until you did the same. Your load splashed over the empty shelf sitting inches below your crotch, meeting your knees as they buckled against it.

Steve was quick to pull himself out of you, shucking off the condom filled with his load, placing it on the shelf, and was standing in the empty stock room. You shifted around to face him, "What are you doing, Harrington?"

"I just—" He paused, "—can't believe that really happened."

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thefizzyprince · 1 year

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FANDOM LIST (so far)

Marvel

Star Wars

Supernatural

COD:MW+

TVD/The Originals

The Last of Us

Dragon Age Series

Game Of Thrones

Shameless

Wayhaven Chronicles

Hawaii Five-O

Kingsman

Merlin

John Wick Series

Pacific Rim

Hunger Games

All For The Game

Stranger Things

The Boys

Avatar

Mass Effect

Detroit Become Human

Seal Team

Narcos

911 / 911:Lonestar

Z Nation

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greyghosts-blog · 2 years

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Pov: Your Dating Steve Harrington

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x male!reader #steve harrington x gn!reader #steve harrington #stranger things #Steve Harrington x fem!reader #joe keery aesthetic #joe keery #steve harrington boyfriend #Steve Harrington boyfriend aesthetic

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honey-tongued-devil · 2 years

Text

⤝ It's pretty cold outside ⤞

✧ Summary: "You wake up in the middle of the night to the prolonged ringing of the doorbell, muffled by the patter of the rain on the roof; you open your eyes tired, feeling your eyelids heavy and almost sticky as you lift a hand to rub your face. It’s midnight and eleven minutes." ✧ Pairing: gn!reader (no pronouns used) x Steve Harrington ✧ Wordcount: 3k+ ✧ TW: blood, graphic description of wounds, SFW, fluff, no use of y/n ✧ NdA: This is the first time I write a real oneshot and my first real approach to this fandom. I hope you will like it, this is one of my favorite tropes. And sincerely this one shot would like to be a prequel to a short chapter story. I hope you enjoy it, comments and reblogs are appreciated. ✧ English is not my first language, I'm sorry for typos/ mistakes✧

You wake up in the middle of the night to the prolonged ringing of the doorbell, muffled by the patter of the rain on the roof; you open your eyes tired, feeling your eyelids heavy and almost sticky as you lift a hand to rub your face.

It’s midnight and eleven minutes.

Underneath, you almost hope it’s a murderer, because if someone is really making you get out of bed in the middle of the night as a joke it might be the time you get yourself arrested.

The stairs seem endless, the light of the chandeliers makes it difficult to keep your eyes open, the cold becomes more and more pungent at every step and your brain is finally recovering its vital functions, making you suddenly realize that it might actually be dangerous to go and open the door while it’s dark outside, it’s pouring and you’re alone in the house.

On the other hand, you have no intention to back out at the last minute, and you’re there.

But when you open the door all of a sudden all your senses wake up in unison, making you wince.

"Steve!" You scream his name, regretting it the very moment you open your mouth: it’s the middle of the night, and you don’t want to wake up your neighbors or try to convince some old lady not to call the police. But the boy at your door gives you a wide smile, tired but incredibly cheerful for a person reduced to that state.

"Ahoy!" His voice is hoarse and low, his broken lip gives a glimpse of the bright red blood when his mouth stretches in a smile, and the rain soaking his jeans and the blue sweater helps camouflage the dirt stains. You lift a hand to move his wet hair from in front of his eyes, withdrawing it suddenly when he winces with pain on contact with your fingertip.

You sigh and move slightly on the side of the door frame, letting the boy enter into the house before closing the door right behind him, turning the key into the latch while he takes off his shoes.

You have been home alone for a week now, and when the guys found it out they offered to help you with your groceries, to help you to clean up the house, even to do movie nights at your place.

In short, not to make you feel alone .

And you have undoubtedly appreciated it, although on the other side they began to show up without warning, not afraid at all of being… annoying, that’s it.

But this time it’s different, he’s not there because he wants to.

"Steve..." you call his name again, more softly this time, breaking the silence that was just created encouraging him to give you an explanation, even just a few words of reassurance, in order to be able to breathe again.

But he just bites the inside of his cheek in response, while the carpet under his feet is colored with darker tones where the droplets of rain meet the ground.

You get close to him, looking for eye contact while letting your fingers run slowly under the wet garment, so cold against your skin that it makes you run a chill down your spine. You slightly raise the edge of the sweater, in a silent invitation to remove it that he does not hesitate to accept.

It’s obviously a more desperate situation than he’s trying to make it seem. And no matter how much he smiles, no matter how much he tries to look casual and careless as if his swollen face was only your illusion, his chest still moves with the frenetic rhythm of someone who has moved without thinking, by instinct alone.

"I’m sorry, I didn’t have anywhere else to go.”

He pronounces those words quietly, in a tone of voice so light that you feel it caress your skin and leave goosebumps in its path.

And yet, the moment you loudly swallow, trying to process those words, he smiles again, looking around, as if nothing had happened.

“Rather, do you have something to eat? I’m starving." You just give him a quick head-to-toe look, noticing more bruises and redness all over his body, before nodding and throwing his clothes in the laundry basket. He wanders a bit around the living room rubbing his hands together before breathing on them in search of a bit of heat, opening the cupboards doors in search of something to nibble on.

When you come back to the living room you find him with his back leaning against the table, distractedly eating chips staring at the window from which occasionally the flash of a lightning enters, as hypnotized by the play of lights that takes place beyond the shutter.

"Hey, uhm…” you clear your voice to announce yourself “I brought some clean clothes to the bathroom, there are… also towels and a bathrobe on the sink. Take a shower, I’ll make you something warm in the meantime. All right?"

Steve nods without looking away, resting the snack on the stove with a slow gesture before finally meeting your eyes, standing up straight.

"Will you make me coffee?" He passes you by heading for the bath at a brisk pace, probably cold.

"Absolutely not. It’s very late, you won’t sleep. I’ll make you milk instead."

His head peeks out of the doorframe just to look at you with pure indignation.

"Did you mistake me for a toddler?"

"I’m sorry, probably seeing you always surrounded by children..."

You leave the sentence hanging, enjoying his theatrical expression of pure betrayal while he closes the bath door behind his back, mockingly repeating your last words, forcing you to hold a chuckle before heading for the refrigerator, with a lighter heart.

But as soon as you sigh in relief, a lightning rushes to the ground causing the light to go out for several seconds, accompanied by the even more persistent noise of the rain, as to indicate that not only the storm has not passed, but that the worst is yet to come.

You are not afraid of the storm, on the contrary, it’s quite relaxing to know that you are in the house, warm, protected, while outside the windows the sky seems to be collapsing. But even as you place the steaming bowl of milk on the table, your only thought is the boy now busy showering in your bathroom.

The black eye, swollen, the broken lip, the wound at the side of the temple, the bruises and the collision marks on the arms and at the height of the stomach... It’s not the first time Steve "hotheaded" Harrington has been in a fight, and you’re sure it won’t be the last, but you can’t help but feel some sort of anguish you can’t explain.

You kneel in front of an old wooden cabinet, looking between old tablecloths and matches, seeking some candles -so as not to be forced to stay in the dark for the following hours- while the bathroom door opens with a puff, letting a wave of hot air into the living room.

"What are you doing?" the boy asks, intrigued, and you automatically make room for him to see the colorful assortment of small candles near your feet. He leans over and takes one between his fingers as if to analyze it, then points to the chandelier and raises his eyebrows in an unspoken question: "are you taking them in case the power goes off?".

You nod and he puts it back next to the others.

"Afraid of the dark?" he asks, puzzled, straightening his back.

You shake your head closing the wooden doors before you pull yourself up, candles artfully and firmly wedged between your fingers, intent on reducing the back and forth between the rooms.

"I’m afraid the light will go out before I’ve finished medicating you, that’s it." your tone is sharp and tired. A nod of the head to indicate the seat at the table, and while he sits down to drink the hot beverage you prepared him, you make your way down the stairs, taking the steps two at a time, until you get to your room: the light still on, the blankets at the foot of the bed.

"shit"

Just a whisper between your teeth before grabbing at the sheets and tugging at them, the sound of rain so loud that it covers even the voice of your thoughts.

*****

"Hey! Ouch! But why does it burn so much?"

"Because you don't stay still. Stop moving, I’m trying to not dirty the clean sheets" you huff, the dim light of the flames accompanies in a preventive way that of a lamp placed on the bedside table.

You let the disinfectant run on his arm, cleaning the wound with a clean cotton cloth: none of the marks on his body are particularly serious, but the large amount of injuries and bruises that minute after minute are becoming darker and darker is what really worries you.

You try to be gentle while covering several pieces of gauze with the brush ointment, making them adhere to the wounds before fixing the whole with a tight bandage: the chest, the right shoulder, the forearm, even the left wrist and the inner part of the thigh are, in no time, wrapped in white.

Let the packaging of the various medications fall back into the basket as you apply them, concentrated to the point of forgetting to breathe.

You can feel the look of the guy on you, the way he keeps his limbs soft allowing you to move them as best you can without resisting, and you know, deep inside, that’s a moment of extreme intimacy.

When finished, you run your fingers slowly over the wrapped forearm, from the elbow to the palm, without ever losing contact with the white bandages. You don’t know if they are thick enough to stop him from feeling that kind touch, but when you reach his hand he closes his fingers on yours without saying a word. You can feel the slight pressure of his fingertips against yours and caress them with your thumb in response, in a gentle act of comfort.

"We’re done, I promise" you whisper, knowing that you should break that contact to bring the basket back to the desk and the medical box to the bathroom cabinet, but you are consumed by a selfish feeling, and you won’t admit it but you fear that once interrupted, you won’t have an excuse to ask for that little attention again.

You stay like this for a while, at least until yet another thunder reminds you that the sooner you clean up, the sooner you won’t have to worry about the problem of light, and only then, reluctantly, you get up.

"Will you tell me what happened?"

"It seemed obvious to me," he replies with sarcasm, only to regret it when he realizes that he can no longer defuse and that this time you want a real answer. A sigh. "Tommy. We had a... discussion, so to speak, this afternoon. And when I got off work..."

He doesn’t end the sentence. You close the door behind your back and reach him to the bed, bringing your hand to move a tuft of hair, uncovering the patch on his temple.

"Did he attack you?"

"Yeah." Steve clenches his lips, before giving you an idiotic smile, "Hey, I put up a good fight."

"And why didn’t you go home?"

The smile slowly fades away at that straight question and turns the silence back into the room, making the atmosphere tense. You don’t say anything, you don’t know if you should take back those words or give him time to process an answer, but before you can come to a solution he throws his head back, looking at the ceiling.

"You know,” his voice is dry and tired. “I didn’t have the strength to hear what my father had to say. I don’t want comfort, never asked for it actually, but I’d rather he shut up than rub it in without even worrying about how his son is."

You don’t know how to answer, especially knowing Steve: he prefers to take care of others, he always tends to put himself in second place, to the point where often, to taunt him, the kids emphasize that no one is going to steal him the role of the hero. But there’s no glory in that broken lip being nervously tortured.

The room is flooded with white, intense, blinding light, and as soon as it fades away, the noise of thunder makes you flinch. The storm is right over your heads. And you don’t have time to realize that the power goes out, leaving you in the room illuminated only by the light of candles.

You turn to the guy sitting next to you, almost to check that the darkness has not stolen him, just to smile when you find out you can still see him even with the soft light.

"King Harrington looks like a mummy" you whisper in an amused tone highlighting the first word, and he turns to you imitating inhuman verses, moving his fingers in a disjointed manner to annoy you.

At the first hint of tickling, you wriggle and burst out laughing, pulling your neck between your shoulders and covering your head with your arms, in an impregnable defensive pose that makes him chuckle.

He lets you calm down and catch your breath without taking his eyes off you, the bastard smile still painted on his face.

"I hate you Harrington" you whisper still laughing, moving your arms slowly to make sure he doesn’t attack you again.

“You know what? Fair enough.” He nods agreeing, before tickling you again.

This time you let yourself fall on the mattress curling up, grabbing his wrists when his hands approach, finding him a few inches from your face when you move them slightly away: your cheeks are reddened, your eyes shiny as you laughed, your breath heavy. You loosen your grip on the injuried wrist without leaving it, keeping eye contact.

"Did I hurt you?" You speak softly, still squeezed between your shoulders.

“Don’t worry, I can handle it” He slightly lifts his arms to lean with his palms against the wall in search of stability, dragging behind yours, still firmly anchored to his wrists.

He is so close that you can feel his breath on your face, so close that the smell of ointment and blood become perceptible, so close that he totally covers your view forcing you to forget about the room around you, so close you could just relax your shoulders so you could reach his face.

"Steve..." you call his name, and he sits composed "freeing you". You kind of hate him, or rather, you hate the way he backed out at the last minute, like nothing happened. He turns around, opens his mouth with no chalance, probably to say some sort of bullshit, but you don’t want to hear it.

You intercept his lips with yours, it's a light, quick kiss, one of those that leave you with a tingling sensation as the only testimony of having happened. You smile at his astonished expression, at his still open lips, at the smile he gives you back before he reaches you with his torso and returns that kiss more slowly, sinking his fingers into your hair.

He tastes like blood, with a sweet aftertaste of cookies, your coconut shampoo, the night, the smell of melted wax, the rain.

He tastes like home.

You put your hand on his bandaged forearm, laughing like a little girl and leaning your forehead against his when your lips make a wet noise, lifting your eyes to look for his when his fingers still woven into your hair move slightly to caress your head, before craving for his lips again, as a move from insatiable hunger.

And he laughs.

He laughs with an almost ironic lightness for a man covered in medications from head to toe .

He laughs as if outside the window the sky was not collapsing, as if his clothes dirty from earth, rain and blood, were not lying on the bottom of your laundry basket, like he didn’t feel a rush of pain when you leaned on his thigh with your hand.

"Is everything okay?" he asks, his hands cupping your face. You nod, leaning your cheek to his hand and closing your eyes, enjoying every very moment of that touch.

"You can stay here."

"Mh?"

You open your eyes and lean your fingers on his, speaking softly as if you were afraid that your voice could somehow disturb the sanctity of the night.

"You can stay here, it’s not a problem. You don’t have to go home to your parents. You can… go get a change of clothes while they’re at work and you can bring them here. It’s fine with me."

You feel your stomach tighten, afraid to look stupid in saying it, but at the same time you genuinely want him to be in an environment where he feels safe, where he can rest.

You move your gaze from one eye to the other eye before continuing, a bit panicked. "I’ll set up the guest room so you have some space, and you can stay here until you feel like it. Or at least until your face is healed. It’s lovely to have company."

He looks at you, seems to think for a few moments before leaning forward again to shoot another light kiss, along with an "okay" whispered against your lips. “I think it would be fine”.

"Steve?" you call him one more time, biting your lower lip to suppress a giggle.

"Yes?"

"Would you mind blowing out the candles?"

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington one shot #steve x reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x gn!reader #steve harrington x male!reader #stranger things x reader

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