#simon-writes-steve

[thelostmagicians]

Say my name | Steve Harrington

Summary: Steve hated his name, until he heard you say it [2.5k]

Fluff, comfort, slight angst, kind of smut

♡

Steve Harrington was never fond of his name. It felt plain and boring, blending into the background of everyday life. Yet, it carried an immense significance. Named after his great grandfather - a man everyone revered - Steve bore the weight of the Harrington legacy. Perhaps that’s why his posture was never perfect; the invisible load of expectations and history bore down on him, a constant reminder of the greatness he was expected to live up to.

Maybe that’s why Steve always tried to be recognized as something other than himself, his father’s son, Nancy’s (ex) boyfriend, or the highschool King turned loser. But no one really knew Steve. Beneath the labels and legacy, there was a person who felt unseen, lost in the shadows of who he was supposed to be.

Every time his name left someone’s mouth, he would wince, almost forgetting it belonged to him, hating the way their lips formed around the rough noise of the “v” and how they would draw out the “e,” as if speaking his name was a chore.

–

The first time you said his name, it was like unlocking something buried deep inside him. You didn’t even notice how your voice softened, how the word Steve seemed to linger in the air, hanging between you. It wasn’t just a name—it was a recognition, a moment of something real, raw, and quietly powerful. He had been called “Steve” a thousand times before, but this was different. The way you said it felt like the beginning of something, and it made him feel seen in a way he never had before. Steve didn’t sound plain or burdensome—it felt like a truth you were just discovering together.

It started so simply. He’d introduced himself with an easy smile, his hand extended toward you. “Hi, I’m Steve,” he’d said, his voice steady but laced with a hint of something you couldn’t quite place—nervousness, maybe? Hope?

You smiled back, slipping your hand into his, and without thinking, you said, “Hi, Steve.” The sound of his name on your lips was unassuming, almost casual, but it did something to him. The way you said it felt warm, like the sun breaking through a cloudy sky. Your voice carried a quiet sincerity that lingered in the space between you, and for the first time, Steve didn’t feel like just a name. It felt like it belonged to him in a way it never had before—personal, meaningful, significant.

He held onto that moment longer than he meant to, replaying the way your voice pitch changed and the way you dragged out the e a perfect amount to keep him longing. It wasn’t just the first time you’d said his name—it was the first time it had ever truly meant something.

_

The moment leading up to your first kiss was a quiet symphony of stolen glances and charged silence, where every movement seemed deliberate and every breath felt heavier. You were standing close—closer than you ever had before—your shoulders almost brushing as the night wrapped around you like a cocoon. The air was cool, tinged with the scent of leaves and distant rain, but all Steve could focus on was you. The way your eyes flickered to his lips for the briefest second before darting back to his, the way your breath quickened ever so slightly, and how your fingers fidgeted nervously at your sides as if they were itching to reach for him.

Steve felt like the world had narrowed down to just this moment, this heartbeat where he could lean in or step back, caught between the fear of messing it up and the overwhelming pull of you. His heart thundered in his chest, loud and unruly, as if it were urging him forward. He searched your face for a sign, a hint, anything that might tell him this wasn’t just him, that you felt it too—that invisible string tugging the two of you together.

Then, you tilted your head ever so slightly, your lips parting just enough to breathe his name softly, “Steve…” It was barely above a whisper, but it was all the permission he needed. He leaned in slowly, his hand brushing against yours as he moved, tentative yet desperate to close the gap. The world seemed to hold its breath, the seconds stretching out as his lips finally met yours.

The kiss was soft at first, tentative, like a question being asked. But then, as if some dam had broken, it deepened, filled with all the unspoken feelings that had been building between you. It was everything and more—sweet, electric, and full of possibility. And when you pulled back, breathless and glowing, your eyes met his, and you whispered his name again.

“Steve…” you breathed, and it was like the world held its breath for a moment. You spoke his name with the same sweetness and stickiness found in honey, each syllable melting into the quiet night air, tasting like something sweet and familiar. It was a sound that wrapped itself around him, settling deep inside his chest, and he couldn’t help but shiver at the weight of it. He realized, for the first time, how his name could sound when it was spoken with love, with tenderness, with a kind of intimacy that had been absent all his life. His name had never sounded so soft, so intimate, as if your lips were tasting the very essence of him, drawing out everything unspoken.

_

The lead-up to that night unfolded naturally, like the quiet turning of pages in a story you had both been writing for months. Every shared glance, every lingering touch, seemed to hold a question neither of you had dared to voice yet. The air between you was charged but unhurried, a quiet intensity building with every stolen moment.

It started as it always did—a night spent together, lost in conversation, the kind that made time slip away unnoticed. You were sitting close, your legs brushing against his, the soft glow of the lamp casting a warm halo around you both. There was nothing particularly unusual about the moment, and yet, something had shifted. You could feel it in the way he looked at you, his gaze lingering a second longer than usual, his thumb absently tracing circles against the back of your hand.

His touch felt different that night—more intentional, though he still hesitated, as if waiting for you to meet him halfway. He laughed at something you said, but his voice wavered just enough to give him away. You could sense the nervousness behind his easy smile, the way he was holding back, testing the waters.

You weren’t immune to the nerves either. Your heart raced every time his fingers brushed against your skin, every time his gaze lingered on your lips just a little too long. You could feel the questions hanging in the air, unspoken but loud enough to drown out the quiet hum of the night. Would this change things? Would it be everything you’d both dreamed it could be?

When his fingers finally laced with yours, it wasn’t a grand gesture, just a simple, quiet moment that felt heavier than it should have. Your heart raced as his eyes met yours, his expression soft, almost reverent, as if he was memorizing every detail of your face. Then, as if by some silent agreement, you leaned into him, and he met you halfway. His lips found yours, soft and searching, as if he was trying to pour all of his feelings into that one kiss. It started slow, hesitant, but quickly deepened, the nervousness giving way to something more sure, more consuming. His hands found your waist, tentative at first, like he was afraid you might pull away. But you didn’t—you stayed, leaning into him, your hands sliding up to rest on his chest.

It wasn’t planned; it didn’t feel rehearsed. It felt real, like the natural culmination of everything that had been building between you. The world seemed to shrink down to just the two of you, and when his lips finally met yours, it was tentative at first—soft, searching, full of questions neither of you needed to ask aloud.

And yet, even then, there was a quiet hesitancy, a moment of pause where the weight of what was about to happen settled between you. “Are you sure?” he whispered, his voice low and steady despite the vulnerability in his eyes.

“Yes,” you said, the word carrying more certainty than you thought you could muster. In that moment, the space between you disappeared, and the unspoken tension finally gave way to something deeper, something that felt like it had been written into the very fabric of who you both were. The nervousness was still there, but it was joined by a sense of trust, of connection, that made everything feel right.

When the two of you finally gave in to the pull that had been building between you, tangled in a haze of desire, your voice broke the quiet with his name, and everything seemed to fade except the feeling of him, the sensation of your bodies moving in unison. “Steve,” you moaned, and it was like a spark, a rawness that ignited in him.

His name, slick with need and desire, slipped from your lips and hit him like a wave. It was as if every syllable of his name was drawn out by the rhythm of your breath, hanging in the air like a fire that kept burning, fueled by the need between you. Each time it left your mouth, he felt it in his chest, in his bones, the way it shifted from something ordinary to something undeniably his.

The sound of his name now was everything—urgent, desperate, and filled with so much connection. It wasn’t just a name—it was a thread that tied you together in that moment, every syllable carrying the weight of the desire that you both shared. And in that moment, all of the nerves, all of the fears, melted away, leaving only the two of you, completely and irrevocably intertwined.

_

Steve was barely conscious when he heard the sound of your voice, soft yet filled with a tremor he couldn’t ignore. The pain was sharp, every breath a struggle, but your voice cut through it, like a lifeline pulling him from the edges of everything dark and dizzying.

“I love you, Steve,” you choked out, the words trembling with raw emotion. It wasn’t a confession made in some grand, orchestrated moment—it was born out of desperation, of the fear of losing him. Those three words carried everything you couldn’t say, every ounce of love and fear and hope tangled together.

His eyes widened, softening as they met yours, and for a moment, he forgot about the pain, focused only on the sound of your voice. He wished he could gather the strength to hold you, to pull you close and reassure you, but all he could do was listen, feeling the weight of your words in the marrow of his bones. You spoke his name with the same quiet reverence as someone would speak of a cherished memory, tender and unhurried, yet desperate enough to feel like a plea. The way you said it made him feel like he was more than the hurt, more than the moment—like he was yours, and that was all that mattered.

He never expected it to be so simple, so pure, but the way you said his name made him feel like he belonged in your world. You spoke his name with the same quiet reverence as someone would speak of a cherished memory, tender and unhurried, with an understanding that transcended words.

“I’m okay,” he whispered, his voice weak but filled with something unshakable, as if the weight of your love was enough to hold him steady. But you only shook your head, tears spilling over as you said it again, quieter this time, softer, “I love you, Steve,” as if repeating it would make him believe it more, make him understand the depth of what you felt. And in that moment, he did. Every word, every breath of yours seemed to fill the cracks in him, stitching him together with something stronger than anything he’d ever known.

_

Years passed, each moment with you stitching together a life he never imagined he could have. There were quiet evenings, shared laughter, and moments of tenderness that wove themselves into the fabric of his world. The milestones came in small, beautiful bursts—there were birthdays, each one a marker of how far you had come, from the first one where you celebrated together as a couple. Then came the day you packed up your past in boxes, willingly unpacking it in the new solace, with Steve by your side—the simple act of combining your lives into one space, where every corner felt like home because it was with you. And then, the wedding day—a small, intimate moment at the courthouse, just the two of you standing together, hand in hand. In that quiet, unassuming space, he saw his future stretched out in front of him, brighter than he'd ever dared to dream. The anticipation was palpable, the air thick with the weight of the moment. There was a quiet nervousness, but also a profound sense of peace, as if everything that had brought you both here—every laugh, every tear, every shared glance—had been leading to this single, perfect instant. It wasn’t a grand ceremony or extravagant celebration—just a simple vow, a promise made in the presence of each other, where the world outside seemed to fade, leaving only the two of you and the love that had quietly woven itself into your lives. When you spoke your vows, it wasn’t just words—it was a reflection of every moment you’d shared and all the moments yet to come. And when you sealed it with a kiss, it felt like the universe paused, holding its breath for a brief moment, before gently exhaling with the realization that this was just the beginning.

This moment, in the quiet of the delivery room, marked the culmination of everything that had come before. It was there, amid the exhaustion and the flurry of new beginnings, that he realized just how much had been building between the two of you all along.

The air was thick with anticipation. You were both exhausted, caught in a haze of nervous energy as you prepared to meet your son for the first time. The weight of the moment pressed in on him, but when your eyes locked, time seemed to stop. In that moment, the world outside faded away, leaving only the two of you, waiting together to give your child a name—a name that would carry the love and the journey you’d shared, and the life yet to be written.

You looked up at him then, a soft smile playing on your lips. With a tenderness that made his heart ache, you whispered, “Steve.”

The name hung in the air like a promise, a future unfolding in the space between you. It was more than just a word—it was everything.

He stared at you, his heart swelling, feeling the weight of your words, of the moment. “Steve?” he asked, his voice filled with disbelief and awe, as if trying to understand why you would want to name your son after him.

You met his gaze, a soft laugh escaping your lips. You shrugged slightly, the smile never leaving your face. “It’s simple,” you said. “Steve is my favorite thing to say.”

And in that moment, it hit him all over again—this name, his name, wasn’t just his anymore. It had become something more, something that felt right in a way he had never imagined. It was the name of a legacy, a symbol of your love. His smile softened as he shook his head, overwhelmed by the significance. “I’ve never loved my name until I heard you say it.”

You spoke his name with a reverence that made it feel timeless, making it something bigger than just the two of you. It wasn’t just a name anymore—it was the thread that would forever connect you, a bond that would last for all time. And it was his.

[kurogxrix]

me when the READER in the X READER has a name:

like babe the fic ate but i do NOT look like an Aurora🙁

[miryum]

does anyone else get, like, jealous when a fictional character dates or has a crush on another character?

... no? just me?

[zvdvdlvr]

tw: suicide, mourning, skipping meals, heavy topic

The day after you killed yourself, he couldn’t get up from your bed. He had gone to your apartment the moment he heard and fell asleep- wrapped around your scent- sobbing into your pillow. Your cat, George Washington, had curled himself into a ball about into the little indent in your designated untouched sleeping pillow- not purring. He only purred if you were around.

The day after you killed yourself, he didn’t get up from the bed until noon. His limbs were so heavy he didn’t really mind going to sleep and not waking up again. In fact, it was your precious baby (George Washington) that had finally got him up. Meowing and whipping his tail at the crying man’s face had succeeded in bringing him to his feet. And when he got up, he saw the sun shine on all the photographs tucked in the side of your vanity mirror- pictures of you smiling back at him with your dimple showing and your eyes squinting the way they did when you were smiling genuinely.

The day after you killed yourself, he went on a drive with George Washington because he didn’t know what else to do and going through your stuff felt like confirmation that you really… weren’t coming back. And he just wanted to believe.

He wanted to believe that if he closed his eyes long enough, he’d see the shape of you refracted by his cornea. He wanted to believe that if he played the playlist you had carefully curated for date night, he would hear you singing along with the tracks just like you always do did. He wanted to believe that, just for a minute, that he was your husband (not just your boyfriend) and he was coming home to you.

When he finally parked in the lot near your apartment, George Washington climbed into his lap. Your songs were still playing on the radio but he couldn’t turn them off.

That night he didn’t eat. Instead he got George’s food and water bowl fixed up before melting onto the couch in front of your TV. He didn’t feel hunger, no, despite the fact he hadn’t eaten anything since the day you…

It was another hour before he brought himself to look at his phone: the incessant, unending buzzing of his phone had finally cut through the murky emotion of grief and numbness and pain and anger. When he scrolled through the notifications, he could only work his thumbs to type out ‘Will call you tomorrow. I love you all.’ to your family groupchat before his vision blurred and he let his eyes close so he could dream of a future he would never have with you.

[springtyme]

𝐎𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐞 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 ♡

Welcome to my first ever October writing challenge! 🍂☕️🍁

I’m very excited, and I really hope that I’ll be able to keep up with the schedule. And also a big thank you to everyone who sent in requests ♡

Most of the fics on this list are lighthearted fluff, but stories marked * are nsfw and only suited for 18+ readers.

𝟏. Coffee shop (Spencer Reid x reader) 𝟐. Sick day (Steve Harrington x reader) 𝟑. Rainy afternoon (Carmy Berzatto x reader) 𝟒. Movie night (Simon Riley x reader) 𝟓. Morning drive (Emily Prentiss x reader) 𝟔. IKEA “date” (Kyle Garrick x reader) 𝟕. Sweater weather (Sydney Adamu x reader) 𝟖. Can’t sleep (Spencer Reid x reader) 𝟗. Train ride (Aaron Hotchner x reader) 𝟏𝟎. Huddling for warmth * (Arthur Morgan x reader) 𝟏𝟏. Cuddles (Kyle Garrick x reader) 𝟏𝟐. A walk in the woods (Eddie Munson x reader) 𝟏𝟑. Decorating (Joel Miller x reader) 𝟏𝟒. Comfort food (John Price x reader) 𝟏𝟓. The orange peel theory (Chef Luca x reader) 𝟏𝟔. Meet cute (Derek Morgan x reader) 𝟏𝟕. Lazy Sunday (Spencer Reid x reader) 𝟏𝟖. Family expansion (Johnny MacTavish x reader) 𝟏𝟗. Hayride (Steve Harrington x reader) 𝟐𝟎. Halloween candy (Roman Roy x reader) 𝟐𝟏. Trick or treat (Aaron Hotchner x reader) 𝟐𝟐. Baking (… x reader) 𝟐𝟑. Party confessions (Sydney Adamu x reader) 𝟐𝟒. Pumpkin carving (… x reader) 𝟐𝟓. Horror movie comfort * (Mikey Berzatto x reader) 𝟐𝟔. Roommates (… x reader) 𝟐𝟕. Haunted house (Spencer Reid x reader) 𝟐𝟖. Pumpkin patch (Richie Jerimovich x reader) 𝟐𝟗. Scary movie marathon (Eddie Munson x reader) 𝟑𝟎. Costume party * (… x reader) 𝟑𝟏. Harvest celebration * (Joel Miller x reader)

[heavenbarnes]

thinking about an alternative older bf!simon who isn’t quite “boyfriend” yet but is a dirty old man that’s staying with you for the summer.

once he was sure that he was alone on the upstairs floor of the house, simon quietly closed your bedroom door behind him.

overwhelming was probably the best way to describe it.

so much of you in everywhere he looked, a mug with a smudge of your lip balm on the rim, your book open on your page on the nightstand, clothes strewn about the floor.

with a pair of pink panties precariously placed on top of the pile.

he was like a man possessed, like he’d stepped out of himself and let something else entirely take over him.

one large hand grabbed the frilly little pair as the other was blindly unfastening his belt in haste. the minute he flopped back on your bed, he nearly passed out.

your smell enveloped him, your shampoo on the pillows, your perfume lingering on the sheets. he lay the seat of your underwear across his nose and mouth as his hand slipped under the waistband of his trousers.

his cock was already sticky and leaking against his thigh as he used the precum to slide his foreskin along the shaft.

using his other hand, he pressed your panties even further into his nose- taking a big deep breath to savour the musky scent of your cunt.

“do you need a hand?”

his heart nearly stopped, panties falling into his lap as he sat bolt upright and stilled his hand.

you, pretty and perfect you- standing in the doorway of the bedroom and staring at him like the filthy fucking pervert he is.

“oh god- i’m so fuckin’ sorry- i don’t even know-”

putting your hands up, you sushed him as you pushed the door shut behind you with your foot.

“calm down, i’m not a cop- i asked you a question.”

you asked him a question, simon had been so fucking pink with embarrassment that he couldn’t even will himself to remember what you’d said.

thankfully, you filled in the blanks.

“would you like a hand?”

just like before, totally out of control of his own body- he found himself nodding his head before he began stuttering.

“yes- yes, please.”

you smiled like you were pleased, it made simon’s chest flutter.

“nice manners.”

lifting one leg, you began to fix under your skirt as he saw the stark white material begin to the roll down your thighs. white lacy panties were soon being flung at him across the room.

he was quick to cover his nose again with this new pair, already having a shameless breath of the sweet slick in the seat of them.

you were already curling into his side like a kitten, hand immediately finding its way into his underwear.

“hmm, you’re all sticky.”

“sorry, i’m a bit of a mess.”

quirking your eyebrow like you knew something he didn’t, simon’s whole body shuddered as you began to twist your wrist along the length of him.

“naturally.”

[whatever-lmaoo]

Finding safety in your embrace

A/N: I randomly got the urge to write so here you go! There is no names mentioned so you can imagine whoever your heart desires(also the reader is gender neutral)💗 I don’t give anyone permission to copy or translate my work 🙅🏾‍♀️ However if you want to branch off of it in a reblog I don’t mind! I didn’t proofread this so any and all mistakes are mine🥹

The feeling of a hand tightening around your hip causes you to stir awake. Your face scrunching as you let your eyes adjust to the darkness. The soft glow of the moon peeking through your curtains is the only light source. You turn your head toward your nightstand, noting that it is only half past one in the morning. You take a deep breath, staring at the ceiling as you run your fingers along the back of a man who stole your heart.

A small groan passes through his lips, bringing your attention back to the reason you had awoken in the first place. You didn’t need light to know that his brows were knitting together, lips downturned into a frown of discomfort. Your eyes adjusted again to make sense of his features as you looked down at the head that rested on your chest.

Bringing your hand up to his face, trailing your fingers across the damp skin of his forehead and resting your palm gently against his cheek, wishing you could take away the years of built-up pain and suffering from his past that not only haunts him in his dreams but also weighs him down in his reality. His body tensed, and he let out a soft whimper as his hand tightened again, running your thumb softly across his cheekbone, “You’re okay, baby. I’m right here,” you whispered, bringing your lips to his temple, leaving a trail of kisses and reminders of your presence and his safety until his body starts to relax again and his breathing evens out.

Resting your head against your pillow, you grab the hand around your hip and hold it in yours, caressing your thumb across the symbol of your eternal love and devotion to him on his ring finger. Intertwining your fingers together, you shut your eyes, whispering one more promise before drifting off, revisiting the life you’ve experienced together so far and dreaming of the multiple paths your future could take, all of them being consistent in one thing, the pair of you side by side.

[everlyblaar]

Okay, so when a man told you that he wants you to be his. Did he meant in a platonic way or is this straight up intimate?

Cause I’m confuse.

[ecstxsyy]

࣪⊹CUPID’S CANDY HEARTS ᰔᩚ˚⋆.꩜ .ᐟ

With Valentine’s Day right around the corner, Cupid’s arrows have been flying like crazy. But, their power doesn't affect the new generation the way it did in to past generations, so, Cupid had to manufacture a new way to get people to fall in love. Cupid’s Candy Hearts! They come in an assortment of beautiful colors and are full of love, but also lust. This Valentine's Day, people won’t be able to keep their hands off of each other!

───── ⋆ ⋅ ꨄ︎ ⋅⋆ ─────

requests for the event are open until feb. 12th!

day 1 - Evan Buckley

screw you. in which….

Buck overhears a conversation he wishes he hadn’t, but it sparks an idea in his head.

day 2 - Sam Winchester

bite me. in which….

Sam uses his size to his advantage.

day 3 - Eddie Diaz

kiss me. in which….

Eddie wants to try something new.

day 4 - Dean Winchester

love me. in which….

Dean strives to please.

day 5 - Dick Grayson

no way. in which….

Dick wants to stretch you out.

day 6 - Anthony Bridgerton

good bye. in which….

Anthony finds a way to make up for having to leave for so long.

day 7 - Clark Kent is loading…..

day 8 - Viktor is loading…..

day 9 - Jayce Talis is loading…..

day 10 - loading…..

day 11 - loading…..

day 12 - loading…..

day 13 - loading…..

day 14 - loading…..

───── ⋆ ⋅ ꨄ︎ ⋅⋆ ─────

[ervotica]

doing a lil celebration for 3k! nothing official, just asking for blurb requests for characters from these fandoms:

fourth wing, twilight, acotar, outer banks, call of duty, the walking dead, stranger things, the maze runner, harry potter

— preferred characters -> liam mairi, garrick tavis, paul lahote, jasper hale, eris vanserra, rhysand, rafe cameron, jj maybank, captain john price, simon “ghost” riley, johnny “soap” mactavish, könig, glenn rhee, daryl dixon, steve harrington, gally, theodore nott

— preferred genres -> WHUMP, angst with a happy ending, hurt/comfort, smut, heavy heavy fluff

can be from my prompt lists or your own request!

tagging some mutuals for reach (please rb if you can!); @wroteclassicaly @eddiemunsons-missingnipple @eve175 @rafescurtainbangz @rafescokenostril @theostrophywife @tacticalprincess @thehighladywrites @hotchfiles @jjsmarijuana @kissitbttr @lovelyghst @littlemisstrouble @callsign-rogueone @venuslore @void-my-warranty @vampieteeth @vermithorn @nocasdatsgay @mockerycrow @murdrdocs @shellxrls @targaryenvampireslayer @taintedcigs @princessmaybank @prythianpages @babygorewhore @serpentandlily @sociorafe @proactivetypaperson @morwap @cinnamoncunt @daycourtofficial @azsazz @anqeliclust @tsunami-of-tears @plainemmanem

[nevvdrinksteaa]

my blog contains 18+ content that may be uncomfortable or triggering, including but not limited to: smoking, drugs/alcohol, sex (m and f), dark themes, violence, yandre behavior, noncon, and overall attraction towards men that would most likely put me on some sort of watch list and more !

nev // 21 // she/her // bisexual // writer (sometimes) // chronically online // activist (politics are important !!)

REQUESTS: CLOSED ( currently inactive :/ )

some of the fandoms i'll write for include: rory culkin // criminal minds // five nights at freddy's // call of duty // stranger things // the last of us // game of thrones // the 100 // you

i try incredibly hard to be inclusive to all body types, genders, and races. i try to be very descriptive with my tags so if i write anything too specific or uncomfortable, please let me know and i will fix it! i do unfortunately make all smut with f!reader in mind (i stick to what i know i’m sorry) but all fluff, angst, one-shots, etc. will never talk about gender! i want everyone and anyone to be able to read and enjoy my work. this is a safe space <3

please make sure to check out some of my fav fics and other lovely writers works which can be found under # nev’s recs !!

** dividers by @cafekitsune **

indicators: ☆ smut ☆ ♡ fluff ♡ ☁︎ angst ☁︎ ★ asks ★

☆ history // charlie walker (3.1k)

☆ jack thurlow blurb // face fuckin (400)

☆ spencer reid blurb // breeding kink (650)

★☆ spencer reid blurb // duty calls (1.8k)

♡ favors (pt i) // mike schmidt (1.7k)

☆ favors (pt ii) // mike schmidt (6k)

some of these works are subject to change, they are just quick ideas i think of and will more than likely change them as i go! please keep in mind i have a full time job and am currently taking night classes to get my emt certification, patience is greatly appreciated <3

☆ what if we had one? // spencer reid - you and spencer babysit henry for jj and will, something about seeing him with kids lights a fire in you * view similar blurb here! *

☆ through the window // charlie walker - you’re new in town and notice that you and your neighbor have a habit of watching each other through your bedroom windows * view small tease here! *

☆ only by the night // steve harrington - inspired by sex on fire by kings of leon,, giving steve head while he’s driving

☆ partners in crime // spencer reid - you and spencer have been working together for years. when his apartment flooded and the inspector finds mold growth, he needs a place to stay.

☁︎♡ stuck // charlie walker - after deciding to drop out of college to pursue a different career, you find comfort in a long term friend after feeling lost

☆ reading is fundamental // spencer reid - after spencer finds out that you were never read to, he decided that now was a great time to start. you on the other hand have different plans.. because what’s hotter than a man who reads?

[thelostmagicians]

The Little Mermaid | Steve Harrington Part: I

Fathoms Below

Series Masterlist 𓇼

Summary: Something lurks underneath Lover's Lake and Steve is determined to find out. [1.8k]

Fluff, comfort, angst

♡

“Steve, why don’t you just listen to me for a second. I’m telling you there was nothing there that night except for you, me, Nancy, Eddie, and the demo bats. Dustin or the other kids didn’t see anything either!” Robin pulled on Steve’s sleeve as he barrelled forward towards the lake. 

“You don’t understand Robs, I was underwater. There was a time frame where I should've been alone, but I wasn’t,” Steve paid her no mind as he glanced at the lake looking for any sign of life, only to be met with the silent stillness of the water. 

“You were alone for like 20 seconds, Nancy went in after you first, then me and then Eddie.”

Steve sighed squatting down on a nearby rock, “But in those twenty seconds, there was someone else. I remember a voice, she kept shouting leave and… there was this second where I thought I was going to die. The bat was strangling me and I couldn’t breathe, I could literally feel my pulse slowing down until this hand reached out and ripped the tail to shreds.”

“It wasn’t a hand, Nancy broke the tail off with an oar.”

“That was the second time,” Steve simply stated.

Robin’s eyes widened in shock, “You were choked twice?”

Steve nodded, “Yeah, I guess it’s all been coming back to me now that everything’s settled and I actually have time to think you know? There was a girl and she saved my life. I have dreams - nightmares that she’s there calling out for me, but I can never get to her.”

“Maybe it’s a trauma response, like PTSD. Or some sort of metaphor. We all went through a lot and now it's finally sinking in…we're all dealing with it differently.”

Steve huffed, “I guess you’re right, maybe I do need to see that shrink Will suggested.” He followed Robin back to his car, but kept glancing back hoping to see something, anything, to confirm his suspicions, but he was met with disappointment instead. 

As soon as Steve drove away, the once still lake came to life, two curious eyes peeking out of the water slowly moving behind the large rock. But the eyes vanished just as fast as they appeared leaving the lake still once again.

_

Steve dreaded going to sleep nowadays. Instead of a peaceful 8 hours, he always woke up feeling restless and scared. He knows that everyone had nightmares even the strongest like Hopper and Joyce, but everyone had someone. Steve had to face his nightmares alone, with no one to hold him or comfort him through the fear. He sometimes slept over at the Byers’ or Dustin’s, but he always felt like a burden when someone had to wake him up in the middle of his fits. 

Tonight was no different, he tried to stay awake, even drank an extra cup of coffee but his body succumbed to the tiredness. 

As soon as his eyes closed he was transported back to that night at the lake. He felt his throat closing up as the demo bat’s tail squeezed harder and harder. He tried to make himself wake up, tried to remind himself that this was just a memory but his unconscious mind wouldn’t allow it. His life was slipping away and his eyes were slowly closing until he saw a flash of purples and greens. An animal of some sort with a thick tail that glimmered in the deep lake. He saw the shiny tail slam into the bat forcing it to loosen its grip around Steve. He tried to reach out and grab the bat by its wings but then two hands came to his rescue and ripped the rest of the bat tail from his neck. He swam up and was finally able to see what saved him. 

It was a girl. Well, a girl with a tail. She had the upper body and face of a human, but just below her bellybutton were scales, scales that led to a tail. A gorgeous tail reflecting shades of purples and greens. She was there fighting for him, for his life. He started swimming towards her, but was stopped by another bat taking a hold of his neck, again. He flailed around trying to get her attention, but she disappeared as soon as a splash was heard from above. This time when he opened his eyes he saw Nancy followed by Robin and Eddie fighting off the bats. 

Steve woke with a startled gasp, hands going up to his neck to make sure nothing was there. His fingers found the faint scars as he rubbed it in an effort to remind himself it was all in the past. This nightmare had felt especially real, more like a memory and while he feared the real memories the most, he was grateful for finally being able to see his hero. The girl with a tail. 

_

The next morning Steve eagerly rushed to work. 

“Woah, not only are you on time, but you’re 30 min early. Are you okay? Are you feeling sick?” Robin quirked her eyebrow teasingly.

Steve huffed, trying to get his arms through his vest. “It was a girl, Rob. That night a girl saved me.”

Robin shook her head, “Steve you’re telling me that a girl jumped in after you. There was no one on the lake, but us. We would’ve seen her if she was there.”

“You’re right. There was no one on the lake, she was in it.”

“So you’re saying that she just magically appeared in the lake and was able to hold her breath and fight off bats with you. Well why didn’t she help us afterwards?”

“She wasn’t a regular girl though, she had a tail. And she could breathe underwater. It’s like she had the abilities of a sea animal, but she was also part human,” Steve explained patiently.

Robin rested her head in her hands tired of Steve’s antics, “Please not another supernatural creature. I honestly think you’re starting to get hallucinations because this can’t be real. I’m going to call Dustin, cause you’re really starting to worry me, Steve.” 

Steve sighed trying to explain his vision as Robin dialed for Dustin. 20 min later Dustin showed up with a stack of library books overflowing from his backpack. 

Dustin pulled out a book flipping to the page that displayed a terrifying monster with sharp teeth and mean eyes. “So what you’re describing is either a Siren or a Mermaid. Both creatures that don’t exist.”

“Isn’t most of the ocean undiscovered anyway? So there’s technically no proof that these creatures don’t exist,” Steve defended. 

“Well, because this isn’t an ocean, it’s a lake. These types of creatures are usually in the deep sea,” Dustin argued.

“Oh my god, I can’t believe you’re buying into this,” Robin exclaimed, pointing at Dustin. 

Steve groaned, “How can you guys see everything we’ve seen, fight monsters, be friends with a literal superhero, and not believe in sea creatures? Look, I know what I saw. I know I sound insane, but most of our life is insane. If anyone would believe me I thought it would be you guys.”

Robin rubbed his back comfortingly, nodding at Dustin, “Alright Dustin, tell us what you know.”

“Okay so, Sirens are usually described as beautiful creatures that had alluring voices. Sometimes with a bird’s head or a human head and a fish’s tail. According to Greek mythology Sirens used to lure sailors to their rock island where they then would kill them…”

“This wasn’t a siren,” Steve cut Dustin off, “This girl had a fishtail, sure but she had a face and the upper body of a human. And she wouldn’t have saved me, just to lure me away and kill me.”

Dustin nodded, “Then I think you’ve found a Mermaid, Steve. Mermaids are known for their voices too, but it says that they are part human and part fish, sometimes having magical powers. They are known for protecting the waters and the creatures in it.”

Steve nodded, satisfied with the theory. 

“So now, that you know all this and know what-or-who saved you… Are we done talking about this now, can we forget it and move on?” Robin asked.

“No, this is just a theory, I have to see her, thank her. There’s something going on and I don’t know, I feel a pull towards her, Robin. I don’t think I’ll be at peace until I actually meet her. It’s like she’s meant to be in my life.”

Robin laughed nervously, “Please tell me we aren’t going after another supernatural thing. I don’t think I can take it, I’m still recovering from the last time.”

“Yeah, and how are you even going to meet her? You’re too traumatized to even get in the pool with us Steve. Everyone noticed Mr. Swimteam Captain staying on the sidelines at his own pool party,” Dustin pointed out. 

Steve looked down dejectedly, “Guys, I get it, but I need to do this. If I ever want to sleep peacefully again, I have to do this. I won’t ask you guys to get involved, but I need your support.”

_

Steve was on edge the rest of the shift. He was eager to leave and do some of his own investigating. The only thing stopping him, like Dustin said, was his newfound fear of water. Ever since he got pulled under and almost died, he hasn’t even been able to take a relaxing bath, let alone go in a pool. He connected everything back to the water. Barb dying in his pool, him almost dying, Eddie almost dying, the gate being opened underwater. If he wanted to meet this mermaid then he was going to have to get over his fear of the water. 

Steve swerved to the right, taking the turn to Lover’s Lake before he missed it. He had to go in the lake tonight, before he lost his small boost of confidence. He parked his car and jogged over, taking off his sweater and vest. 

“Every night I go to sleep and I dream of you, and I’m on the verge of losing my goddamn mind because I don’t know what’s real and what’s not,” Steve sighs, “so either you show me you exist or I come in there to see for myself.”

He looked at the water, the darkness of it reminding him of what could be lurking underneath. His throat started closing up as he dipped a toe and just as he was having second thoughts, he lost his balance slipping in. His mind knew what was happening, but his body was too slow. Before he had time to prepare himself, he fell in head first, fighting for his life against the water once again.

[noisydelusionlove]

Debating on getting back into writing because in college I wrote hella fanfics.

I would probably write for the following (all x afab!reader or OOC)

COD

Ghost

Soap

Ghoap

Gaz

Price

Poly 141

Konig

Criminal minds

Spencer

Aaron

Jujutsu Kaisen

Gojo

Geto

Gojo and Geto

Nanami

Sukuna

Avengers

Bucky

Captain America

Stucky

I also want to do smut, angst, fluff, dark themes and Alpha/Omega dynamics.

I don’t know if my work would even be taken seriously here so if anyone has tips please let me know how to get started because the last time I wrote it was in fan fiction.net in like 2015 and I had hundreds of followers.

[eviesaurusrex]

ᴡʀɪᴛɪɴɢ ɪɴꜱᴘɪʀᴀᴛɪᴏɴ

If you like, you can send me a prompt from the following lists with a character I should write the prompt for :3 I’m in desperate need of some fluff in my life, so we’re ignoring my closed requests, thanks! Thanks to all the talented authors who wrote these prompt lists. Give them some love while you're over there <3

blossoming romance writing prompts

prompts for sharing a bed

fluff prompts

touch starved prompts

fluffy/domestic OTP prompts

couples showing affection pt. 1

couples showing affection pt. 2

The characters I write for are listed in my pinned post!

prompt lists by @eloquentmoon @scealaiscoite @ogdoadfates @mia-likesbooks @novelbear @bunnyswritings

[emo-emu64]

Thinking of starting list of prompts and characters for requests. Thoughts? Questions? Comments? Concerns? Cries for mercy?

[springtyme]

𝐎𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐞 ♡

I've decided that for October, I'll try to write 31 little fics, one for each day. It's mostly going to be fluff, but I'm fine with mixing in a few smut and angst pieces here and there for variety.

So, if you have any autumn/Halloween ideas or requests you would like me to write they are more than welcome <3 It can be for any of the characters on character list

It can also be for versions of a character and reader from any of my prior fics <3