#st 4 vol 2 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

scwheeler · 2 years

Text

🩰 - your cousin’s hot!

pairing: mike wheeler x henderson!fem!reader

summary: while coming over to dustin’s house for a sleepover, mike finds out there’s a reason the guest room is occupied 😧😧

warnings: reader is dustin’s cousin

age of pairing: 15-16

mike rang the doorbell an annoying four times before dustin finally opened the door. “jesus are you dead or ignoring me now!” mike complained making dustin complain back, “hey i’m not the only thirty minutes early!” “my mom had some book club and she wanted me out of the house!” mike explained.

he had a duffel bag in one hand and a paper bag in one. they headed for dustin’s bedroom first, placing down mikes stuff and dustin explaining where he’s going to be sleeping. “why can’t i just use the guest bedroom?” mike asked, pointing to the uncomfortable air mattress on the ground and then to the door down the hall.

dustin would’ve responded if he wasn’t blowing up the air mattress with his mouth and nearly passing out. mike disregarded the question and instead unpacked his stuff. mostly it being dvds, games, snacks in the paper bag, and comic books. little to no clothes though. don’t get any wrong ideas now 🤨🤨 “remind me why you can’t just sleep on the floor?” dustin asked after finishing blowing up the air mattress. “what—then all your hard work would go to waste,” mike sarcastically replied, earning a drastic eyeroll from dustin.

“im gonna use the bathroom, where’s that again?” mike asked, standing up and heading for the door. “down the hall tot he left,” dustin answered and went to the laundry room to get a pillow and some new sheets. mike nodded in response and walked down the hall. if he wasn’t so distracted with dustin’s baby pictures on the walls, mike probably would’ve heard a faint humming coming from the room he was approaching.

before he could even twist the doorknob open, it did by itself and the white bathroom door opened automatically. revealing you wearing a beige towel around your chest and a smaller one in your hands, frantically trying to dry your wet hair.

you were closing your eyes because water droplets were flying everywhere when drying your hair with the towel so when you stepped forward to approach the guest room, you were met with an unexpected blockage. the two of you instantly looked up, both surprised to see someone there. “oh—sorry i—” during mikes apology instinct, he stopped himself once he realized you were only in a towel.

you were glowing, not cause it was the middle of the day and you were sort of wet but actually glowing. you were gorgeous, the type to be a romcom’s main girl! he stopped himself from gaping his mouth open but his eyes spoke for himself without words. they were wide open in shock and being absolutely smitten by you. he never knew what love at first sight meant until this exact moment.

while mike was borderline fainting and freaking out, you just stared at him with your bright eyes. your wet hair sitting on your shoulders dripping onto the beige carpet floor. you held your towel up with your hands making sure not to flash this stranger that you assumed was dustin’s friend because of the t-shirt. completely disregarding mike’s rambling you spoke up while staring at his shirt, “hellfire club.”

“what?” he was caught off guard, stopping himself once more and questioning your response. “your shirt. hellfire club, that’s the only thing dustin talks about during dinners,” you answered and pointed at his white shirt with black sleeves, decorated with a devil logo and black, red writing.

mike thought about your answer, dinners? as in dates? as in girlfriend and boyfriend?!? “w-wait? you’re like dustin’s girlfriend?!” mike stuttered. he tried not to act surprised but couldn’t, how could his best friend never tell him that he had such a pretty girlfriend? if you were his girlfriend, he would tell everyone in the whole goddamn planet!

before he could further investigate your identity, you immediately replied, “WHAT!” you looked absolutely betrayed and kind of hurt. “no! no! dustin’s my cousin! gross dude, he’s just my cousin,” you were disgusted and made a puking face at his question.

at first mike was relieved that you weren’t dustin’s girlfriend then looked down once again to find you not wearing any clothes and only a towel. “oh yeah i’ll let you get changed!” mike stood to the left side of the hallway so you could walk to your room, giving a little wave and smile before heading inside and closing the door behind you.

mike was speechless. was he daydreaming? did these kind of things ever happen in real life? he had a smile ear to ear spread on his face and rosy cheeks, not from embarrassment a little actually but from amazement. then a question popped into his head, how could a goddess like you be related to dustin…? must’ve been adopted at this point he thought.

“oh hey did you meet y/n?” dustin walked into the hallway hugging an orange pillow and a few blankets “y-yeah, she’s pretty cool,” mike answered, his eyes still lingering on the guest room door. he was waiting for you to walk out of the door and gracing him with your presence. good thing dustin wasn’t too bright when it came down to love and didn’t notice mike almost drooling over the five second interaction you and he shared.

“mike can you help me with these blankets?” dustin asked and struggled to hold all the four blankets in his arms. while he stared at mike for a hand, mikes eyes were still glued onto the door. forcing dustin to yell, “MIKE!” which brought him back into reality thank god.

mike turned to dustin who stood beside him and understood his previous question, grabbing a few of the blankets to help dustin out. after dustin muttered a thank you, he was going to say let’s go start our marathon when you walked out of the bedroom and down the hall to the kitchen.

you turned around and gave a quick glance to mike, with that same darn smile which made mikes stomach do cartwheels. he smiled awkwardly back, hoping to show that he reciprocated possible feelings you had for him. dustin’s eyebrows rose but before he could start shouting at mike at all the possible reasons why he couldn’t like you, mike beat him to it.

“your cousins hot!”

#*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧scwheeler #mike wheeler x you #mike wheeler x y/n #mike wheeler x reader #stranger things #st 4 vol 2 #stranger things 4 #mike wheeler #mike x reader #finn wolfhard #mike stranger things #finn wolfhard x reader #finn wolfhard x you #stranger things season 4

1K notes · View notes

the-archxr · 2 years

Text

your sex is on fire

steve harrington x afab!reader

summary: after defeating vecna, you and steve reunite in the best way possible.

a/n: *gif is not mine, it’s from pinterest* why did this take me forever? who tf knows. also in regards to the song inspo, the title says it all (if you know, you know). for the longest time, I was stuck between writing this one and another one that wasn’t smutty, but then I had a big brain moment and decided to combine them :)

warnings: +18 content; SMUT SMUT SMUT SMUT, nothing BUT smut (THIS SHIT RATED…PORN); fluffy; hella passionate sex; we survived the end of the world and now we gotta fuck sex; graphic sex; multiple orgasms; light teasing; over stimulation; switch!steve; face-sitting (oral sex, f receiving); cum-eating; hair-pulling kink; praise kink; dumbification kink?; unprotected p in v sex; creampie; LOTS of dirty talk (but it’s full of love)

word count: 4k

main m.list | steve harrington m.list

join my taglist!

•••

“Jesu—fuck, —.” Steve sighs. “I’m tryna’—fuck, you want us to crash?”

Your mouth drags along the side of his throat, a rogue hand slipping down his chest and to the waistband of his pants. You hardly touch him, nothing more than feather-light touches as you palm him through his joggers. You’re restraining yourself as much as possible, and yet? The poor boy shakes beneath you. Whether that’s the adrenaline from nearly dying and subsequently surviving, or simply from the way you nibble at the skin under his ear.

Either way, you need each other.

Desperately. Insufferably.

Huffing, you bite at his jaw. “Just, dammit Steve, just park the fucking car.”

“We’re almost home, —.” Letting go of his dual-grip on the wheel, he picks your hand up from his crotch and puts it in your lap: a silent and unspoken warning as the car accelerates. “I’m already breaking so many traffic laws here, babe. Won’t be able to control myself if you keep doing that.”

You hum. “That’s kinda the point, Harrington.” Leaning over the console, you kiss the corner of his mouth. “Want you now, Stevie.”

“Jesus Christ,” he whimpers, eyes rolling into the back of his head like slot machines.

Even in his attempt to increase the distance for the sake of his better judgment, the heat rages on. And you suppose, as the realization falls upon both of you, that’s what spurs him on. All while maintaining his grip on your wrists, he spins the steering wheel harshly. It’s a sudden movement that rattles your unbuckled bodies around as the beemer rolls down the street. Then, down the darkened stretch of road, your apartment materializes, and instead of slowing down, Steve presses on the gas until the car is haphazardly parked.

From that point, everything blurs together.

Never mind whatever the fuck happened within the past four hours. The only thing you could focus on was the feel of Steve’s hand around yours, the cold press of the elevator wall against your back, and the sensation of sharp teeth on your shoulder.

He kisses you then: hot and heavy and full of strangling anticipation. With one hand on your jaw, he snakes the other down to your thigh, hitching it up to his hip and securing it there. His mouth opens wide; an attempt to devour you whole as he grinds into you.

“Steve…” Tilting your head to the side, you expose the wide expanse of your neck to him. “Steve, please…” The tip of his tongue peeks out, getting lost in his own ministrations. In the mirror on the opposite wall, you watch as he tenderly licks at the soft curve of your collarbone until purple bruising appears in his wake.

The elevator dings, prying a reluctant Steve off of you. But for only a moment. Because as soon as the doors open—and he determines the coast is clear—he’s towing you behind him towards your shared room.

You stumble over your own feet; excitement sending jitters all throughout your body as Steve pushes you through the threshold and up to the wall.

And then similar to the elevator, your boyfriend juts a knee between your thighs and places your hands on his face. He kisses you deeply, instantly robbing you of any breadth as he groans into your mouth. “Was so scared for you, babe.” His teeth clamp down onto your bottom lip. “So fucking scared.”

You kiss him back with just as much fervour; soaking in the intense smell of gasoline, soot, and the remnants of his shampoo. “I’m right here.” Another kiss. “Steve,” you meet his gaze with the free hand that grips his chin. “I’m right here. I’m okay… We’re okay.” His face is sombre, the melting tension of nearly losing your life turning into dried tears and rushed kisses. Tears that are embraced by loving hands and delicate forehead kisses.

“We’re okay,” he reassures.

Your hand falls down his chest until your fingers find the skin of his abdomen and then you press a slow peck into his cheek. “Steve, if you—want you to touch me…” Gripping the edges of his shirt, you pull him into you. “Want you to fuck me, honey.”

His face ducks and disappears into your chest, the dirty curls nuzzling into your equally dirty shirt. “You sure? Cause I—fuck, baby, I don’t know if I can be gentle right now—“

Carding your fingers through the roots of his hair, you yank his head up to yours, eliciting a low whine that shoots right down to your cunt. “I’m sure.”

He doesn’t say anything after that, but a new kind of determination glazes over his eyes. Pools of warm honey darken into the colour of molasses as he pulls you from the wall and chucks his jacket onto the couch. His shirt is next, tearing itself from his body, with adventurous fingers trailing down to yours. Soon you’re both in your underwear, falling into walls and tables, knocking over vases and picture frames until you finally make it to the bed.

Steve flops down first, the old mattress creaking beneath his weight and your sudden movements as you clamber on top of him.

Knees settling on either side of his hips, you lean down to his neck. Kissing and sucking at each mole and every freckle, you soothe the bitten areas with your tongue. Taking hold of his hand you bring it up to your back where he unclasps your bra. The fabric falls over your shoulders and onto his chest, breath faltering at the sight of your entire upper half completely bare for him.

His hands glide up your rib cage, smoothing over every dip and every curve until he has a firm grip on your torso. Sitting up, he presses his chest to yours and allows his knuckles to descend over the underside of your left boob. “You’re stunning, ya know that?”

You smile. “You tell me every day.”

Steve purrs, lips capturing your nipple in his warm mouth. “I know,” he grumbles into your chest. “But today was almost the last day where I would’ve been able to.”

You frown slightly, the bittersweetness of it all beginning to dawn on you.

“Which is why I’m gonna say it more often. Can’t have you leaving this earth without knowing how much I love you.” Butterflies bloom in the space behind your ribcage, tying intricate knots around your beating heart and flying away with it towards him. It’s an earth-shattering, death-defying force that binds you to him. It’s a force that kept you both alive long enough to see today.

And it’s that same force that makes you want to ride him into oblivion.

He bites at the sensitive flesh, kneading your other breast in his hand as he rubs onto you. He’s painfully hard—a thick heaviness resting against your bare thigh that twitches in his boxers with every shift. “Which is also why…” he begins, two calloused hands coming around your back, holding you close to him. Impossibly, and breathtakingly close. “I suddenly realized what I want before I die.”

You whine at the weight of his hips bumping into yours; at the feeling of your resolve growing sluggish by the minute. You have half a mind to respond to him, although the sound you make could simply be mistaken as one of pleasure.

But regardless, he answers it. His very own personalized call and response.

“I realized that before I eventually go…” he lies back down, hair billowing out from behind his head onto the pillow. “I want you to sit on my face at least once. Want you to cum on my tongue, babe.” Shock cuts through every sensation as your eyes widen in his direction.

His proposition makes electricity prick at the goosebumps along your skin.

He wants you to sit on his face.

Steve’s eaten you out before—many times before. Quite possibly, it’s his favourite thing to do. A fact he so gladly owns up to. And in doing so, he’s had no problem pulling orgasm after orgasm out of you that way. But you’ve never sat on his face.

Part of you up until now didn’t realize you could do that. That your partner could want that.

You almost protest. Almost mumble out something about how if you sit on his face he might die earlier than you both would’ve liked. But then you see him. The faint colouration of the streetlight outside of your window, along with the reflection of the moon, illuminates him.

It highlights the rigid line of his cheekbones; the way his mouth pulls into a tight grin; the way his hair falls softly around his face and the shadows casting over his gaze—a line of sight that hasn’t once left you.

He’s beautiful.

A renaissance painting come to life. A Da Vinci model plucked out of time and placed right here before you, under you. An offering. One that commits a lifetime of undying love and passionate sex.

You almost miss the slight nod of your head, if it weren’t for the look of surprise that tugs at his features.

It doesn’t last long though because then he’s helping you out of your underwear and up his torso until your body rests in midair just above his face. You’re incredibly exposed; a different kind of trepidation drowning your veins in freezing cold water.

And then in a moment of confidence, you lower yourself just enough for you to feel his hot breath on you. You stay there for a second, surveying how you’re going to do this, and how you think Steve wants to do this. But soon, without any warning whatsoever, he’s pulling you down completely. He smothers himself until his nose is pressed into your clit and his lips rest around your entrance. You gasp at the close contact: high-pitched and sharp, reverberating off the walls of your room.

Which is when he starts to move.

His hands smooth themselves down your hips and over your thighs digging into your skin as he holds onto you for dear life. The act almost seems self-soothing, like a child rubbing their arm in an attempt to calm themselves during a storm. Though as he kisses the hooded part of your pussy, followed by the agonizing drag of his tongue between your folds, you realize that him touching you like this is just a sign that he’s enjoying himself.

And fuck, you are too.

You should’ve done this fucking ages ago.

Steve starts off with kitten-licks; gently exploring the new parts of you that have gone untouched, nose bumping over and over again into your pelvic bone as your hips shift.

There’s a sudden vibration against you, low in energy and baritone in sound. At first, you mistake it for a moan, but then you hear it again. This time it’s a little stronger to the point where you feel it in your belly and in your kneecaps. And then you understand he’s trying to talk to you.

His eyes, which look up at you from between the space of your thighs—a sinful sight that you nearly cum on the spot from—are expressive, as the muscles in his face contort. With what little strength you have, you grab onto the headboard and lift yourself off of him.

His stunted intake of breath manifests in sheepish embarrassment as you look down at him. “Sorry.”

Steve shakes his head, tendrils of damp hair sticking to his forehead. “Absolutely never fucking apologize, babe. I was just tryna ask how you were doing up there.”

Laughing, you run your fingers through his hair and push it off of his face. “Good… It feels good.”

“Good,” he grins, sliding back down to reposition himself all over again. “You taste fucking good, too.” Sighing, you attempt to steady yourself with your grip on his head. “You might wanna hold on, sweetheart. I’m not stopping until you cum.”

With as much energy as when you were taking your clothes off, Steve dives back into you and not once does he let up. You do as instructed, white-knuckling both his hair and the wall as he bobs against you.

He’s ruthless in his efforts.

Utterly ruthless.

The sounds that emanate from him rumble the lower half of your body. A divine mixture of sultry groans and hums, all tongue and teeth as he feasts on you. By now you’re completely riding his face; humping his nose with ease as your slick spreads across his mouth.

You’re a whiny mess. The feeling of your throat and fluttering hole closing simultaneously is suffocating—enough of a reason to drive you downright mad. Pressure builds in your belly, the beautifully taut knot of your nearing orgasm growing tighter; keying higher and higher with every suck of his mouth, and every grind of his chin.

“Steve…Stevie, baby…” your free hand flies to the roots of his hair, pinning him in place as you buck wildly against him. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum. Gonna cum, Steve…”

His voice is still muffled by your cunt when you realize he says something along the lines of ‘come on, pretty girl’. And that’s when the coil snaps in two, forcing your knees to close around his head and sighs to tumble out into the air.

Your orgasm seems to leave just as quickly as it came; dispersing through your veins with a painful gasp, and aching limbs finally falling limp. Steve’s quick to move out from beneath you as you collapse forward, colliding into him out of early exhaustion.

You’re panting heavily, fingers desperate to find purchase on the loose bedsheet; to ground yourself to this realm. As you calm down, the numbing sensation slowly dies down. Steve kisses you then—your taste being the only thing on his tongue, and the only thing you can truly recognize.

“You did good, babe. So very good.” Another kiss, this time to your cheek. “Can’t believe we almost died without doing that first.”

An echoey giggle escapes you, hushed into his bare chest as your fingers toy with the edges of the bandage wrapped around his abdomen. As your consciousness cements itself to your body, a sadness suddenly befalls you. A sadness that you don’t quite acknowledge until he mentions it. “Hey,” tucking your head over his shoulder, he presses his nose to the shell of your ear. “Don’t do that, yeah? I’m still here. We’re okay, remember?”

“…I know, it’s just…” for a moment you consider entertaining the tenderness in the air. You both could sit down finally and truly talk about all the shit that had gone down the past couple of days. You could address the losses—Max and Eddie, and the pain you aren’t too sure Dustin will ever get over. You could address the fear you experienced watching Steve get pulled under, and the reality that if those vines had just pulled a little tighter you would’ve all died.

These are things you know have to be talked about eventually. But that’s just it.

Eventually.

You two always figure it out. There’s a time, and a place where you and Steve will always reunite; will always meet in the middle and will always be there when the other needs to talk.

But right now you need each other for different reasons.

You are each other’s lifeline; the saving grace that you both achingly need. And all you want is to drown in it, and in him.

So that is exactly what you’ll do.

Clearing your throat, you sigh. “…It’s just I wanted to make sure you could handle it. Ya know, for what’s gonna happen…”

A smirk forms on his face at your suggestion. “‘For what’s gonna happen?’” You nod into him, acutely aware of how he attempts to take his underwear off with you still on him. Sitting up, you move down his chest until your hips meet his; nearly joined completely and awaiting the inevitable green light.

It’s a moment of silence in which neither of you can operate properly. You both are far too caught up in the feel of each other to process what dysfunctionality even means; to understand the implications of how lucky the two of you were today.

Your hands cross over his chest until you’re stable enough to hoist yourself up as he aligns his dick with your entrance. The silence is deafening: thick as a sweltering fire and as deadly as oxygen. It isn’t until you see the way Steve’s chest heaves, powerful and rugged as he stares up at you through thick lashes, that you quickly exhale. “Think you can handle me, Harrington?”

He doesn’t spare a beat.

Clicking his tongue to the roof of his mouth, he waits—abdomen constricting with every daunting inhale. Grabbing the back of your neck, he pulls you towards him, holding you only inches away from his face. “Think you can handle me, —?”

It’s that single sentence that sets off the chain reaction. A tumbling domino effect that begins with him jamming his tongue in your mouth at the same time he shoves inside of you. You let out a repressed gasp, one that he swallows without a second thought. He takes the time and the opportunity to suck on your tongue until your tastebuds are swollen. He bites at the sound of your moans, moving against you in continuous motions as your mind slips into darkness.

Steve doesn’t give you time to adjust to him in any way. His hips, desperate to feel you, and desperate to fuck you, already begin moving. Everything, from your surroundings to the man before you, works in tandem to wind you up just that much more. From the sound of Duran Duran playing faintly from your downstairs neighbour to the grip he has on your neck—everything collaborates until a blinding symphony. It’s an obscene, disgustingly pornographic view. One that only worsens when Steve’s intent gaze falls to where he pistons into you; spearing you on his cock until you're fucked stupid.

You watch the vein in his neck strain against him as he controls himself. “What were you saying…a—about me being able to handle it, sweetheart?” He grunts out.

Gritting his teeth together, he peeks out from behind a curtain of fallen hair. “As far as I can see…” he gives you one particularly hard thrust, connecting your hips and allowing for the tip of his cock to kiss that spongey part within you. “You’re the one who’s cock drunk, babe.” He lays a gentle smack to the globe of your ass, earning a whimper from you. “Not that I mind. Wanna’ show you just how much I fucking love you.”

Keeping up his tempo, Steve soldiers on. Pulling your head back farther and farther with every thrust, he marks up the skin along the column of your throat. Crying out, you screw your eyes shut and dig your nails into his biceps. Neediness gets the better of you, tricking your body into rocking him in your very own pattern. “Stevie…”

With a shaky exhale and aching hands, you make a feeble attempt to hold onto him. “I—fuck, Steve, I wanna, I wan—oh my god.”

Your second climax hits you immediately. The barely-there build up bleeding into a crashing high that leaves no room for coping.

You are still around him, inner walls squeezing him like a vice. Your toes have begun to curl in response, your body having lurched forward as you try to string words together to form a coherent sentence. Though, with the way, he’s been fucking you…

And if he keeps fucking you like this…

You consider you may never be able to speak again.

He kisses you for the thousandth time that night, hushing your uncontrollable babbles as his hips pick up speed. “Don’t need to say anything, pretty girl, already doing so good.” His large palm keeps your hips still as he drives into you, the incessant panting in your ear making you wet all over again. “So,” another snap of his hips. “So,” and another. “…fucking good.”

You whine as your vision goes cloudy—evidence of yet another orgasm taking charge. “Think you can give me another one, babe? I think you can… Fuck, I know you can.” Steve’s voice drifts in and out of your ears. Part of you thinks you hear him, and the other part, the one lost to time and space, can’t hear him at all.

With your limp body still in his arms, and with his pace unrelenting, Steve leans back into the headboard with a loud thud. Entangling your limbs as close as possible with his, he presses hot kisses into the side of your head, hooking his chin over your shoulder. He takes a second to readjust your body on his before speaking. “You’re gonna give me another, okay? Want you to cum one more time.”

“I don’t think I can,” you lie. It’s a half-baked one. A shitty excuse of an attempt to alleviate your delicious suffering. Your pussy is swollen. Abused and puffy and probably, undeniably red. It’s gratifying and damning all at once. Which is why you lie. Though the flames of satisfaction; the culmination of adrenaline, arousal, fear and desire, lick at your belly and swirl in the pit of your stomach, you lie.

You’re overstimulated.

Incredibly so.

But you know he won’t stop, because you couldn’t trick yourself into thinking you even wanted him to.

“Yes, you can.” It’s a breathy command. Quiet and slow, an opposing force to its true intention. The words are out in the open, the ground rules set in stone and presented on a silver platter. But you can’t tell if he’s talking to you, or himself, making the already complicated situation that much more complicated. Sweat makes his fingers slip, and makes his body loosen beneath you as he tries to maintain his grip. He’s struggling at this point; the feeling of him swelling in you growing more and more apparent. You can tell he’s close. So fucking close.

And you are too.

You’re right. Fucking. There.

“Almost there, baby. Just a—“ he slams you down onto his lap. “Just a bit more…”

Moaning erratically, your nails scratch down his back, your body not being able to do much else as he moves you in place, up and down on his hilted shaft. “Oh my god, yes. Yes, yes—fuckyes—right there.” A cry rips out of your throat as your upper body falls slack. “Fuck, Steve, yes!”

Your third orgasm shatters you completely. In every way, it destroys you; locking up your muscles and your mind, and ridding you of anything that isn’t white-hot pleasure. You scream in response, the record-scratch sound taking with it every last ounce of energy from your bones until you’re a pliable heap of arms and legs.

You feel as though you’re floating; the mindless darkness of earlier morphing into blotches of bright colours and glittery stars.

It’s all-consuming. All-encompassing as time passes on in what seems like a different universe.

Yet even in your haze you know Steve’s not too far behind.

“God, I love you. Love this—love this fucking pussy. Love you. Fuck.” Holding you in place, he loses control as his own high dominates him. The dam breaks, and his hips come to a stuttering stop with his own climax. Warmth pooling in your cunt as he flops on top of you, still holding you close as you take each other in.

There’s a nagging part of you that pressures you to acknowledge what happened today. To confront Steve about it; to act on it like a healthy couple does. But the sight of him nearly asleep makes you weak. And so you decide to trade in the stress and pain of today for peace as the two of you lay there; breathless and spent as you slowly renter your bodies. Bringing your legs up to Steve’s hips, you wrap yourself entirely around him, until all you can smell is fresh sweat and old smoke.

“Have I ever told you that I’m in love with you?” He kisses the area where your heart rests, canting his body so that he’s comfortably cuddled up to you.

You laugh softly. “…A time or two.”

•••

Steve Harrington Taglist (+18)

@freaky-dcaky @spideyssunflower @detectivecarisi-1 @superfanmixromancepony @bookfrog242 @spectorfilms @serrendiipty @keepingitlokiii @v0idl1nq @blindedbyyourgrace17 @mrmoonman @emileebert14 @wordle233 @demirunner @randomlyblue @sad-innit @smarie7543 @scoopsahoyharrington @moonknightyws @imanilizabeth @gracie-marvel @liltimmyst

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington smut #steve harrington #joe keery #stranger things x reader #stranger things x fem!reader #stranger things smut #stranger things #stranger things 4 #st4 #st 4 vol 1 #st 4 vol 2 #the-archxr writes

2K notes · View notes

reggieslocket · 2 years

Text

i believe the biggest mistake ever made in cinematic universe was not letting eddie munson grab steve harrington by his jacket and make out with him right then and there

#stranger things #stranger things s4 #stranger things 4 #stranger things volume 2 #st 4 #st 4 vol 2 #steddie #steve x eddie #eddie x steve #steve harrington #eddie munson #the fruity four #joseph quinn #joe keery

9K notes · View notes

whatislife1babydonthurtme · 2 years

Text

Things in Stranger Things season 4 (Volume 2) which did not make sense, were forgotten or simply pissed me off.

❗️Spoilers obviously❗️

The whole town was convinced that there was a cult going on and people got up looking for Eddie and seemingly the rest of Hellfire Club because they were convinced it was a cult. Did they just give up? They never showed up again. Also the parents didn't bring this up at the end when everyone was reunited.

Why did Mike believe that the painting was for him and El when he clearly read the letter that said Will was painting it for someone he likes. Additionally, how the fuck did Mike not notice his supposed "best friend" sobbing in the car right next to him? You can clearly see him look in Will's direction but he just doesn't do anything.

Is the police just... dead? Where are they? Why are they not actively going after Jason's crew

Where is Owen? Is he alive? Why did he say that he could get El back in Hawkins in 2 hours tops if the Cali crew said it would take all night to get back, was he gonna call a private jet or something??

Where is the military? They went to that lab and then were never heard of again.

When Nancy was Vecna'd, she was in the laboratory. Why???? She had nothing to do with that place. Why wasn't she robbed from facing her own fears and traumas at the start of volume 2? Also when she got stuck in front of those doors which were blocked off by planks, they were push doors. Why did she rip off all of those planks if she could've just pushed the door and crawled in between those planks. Maybe I'm getting something wrong here but that just seems like such a hard thing to miss while writing the script...

Why did only Jason and his buddy go to Lucas and Erica when he had a whole team? Were the other guys just watching tv?

Vecna survived being transported to another reality and being hit by lightening so much that his skin peeled off, but can't handle Steve and Robin throwing a molotov at him? Or a shotgun? Really?

Did they leave Eddie's body in the upside down? Why is nobody mourning him besides his uncle and Dustin? I thought Mike, Lucas, Steve, Nancy, Robin and even Erica cared.

So El can bring people back from the dead now? That's not telekinesis, that's Mary Sue magic. What's next? She can share her powers with anyone she wants and then they can make people fly with the jerk of a wrist?

We still don't know why the upside down is stuck on the moment Will was taken. With the way this was brought up in volume 1 it really seemed like this would be answered in volume 2. But of course not, because Will Byers just kept getting sidelined in every way possible.

How come it was leaked that 5 people would die in volume 2 but the only important characters who died were Brenner (papa) and Eddie. Max died but she was brought back to life because apparently Eleven can do that now. That's not 5 is it? Or did they count the people in that helicopter who were trying to shoot Eleven?

Were we supposed to care about Brenner's death???? With how the cemra kept focusing so much on him? I was glad to watch him go!!

The timeskip of 2 full days in the middle of the climax???? Wtf was that??????

Mike being a complete asshole to Will these past 2 seasons was just for no reason then? He is JUST an asshole??

Were Robin, Nancy and Steve just choking on those vines for like 15 minutes or was the time where Eleven struck Vecna actually a lot shorter than that?

They actually forgot Will's birthday, I hoped they were just joking but they really forgot. He was the only character with a canon birthday within the series (until they talked about Dustin's) but clearly they care so little about Will that his entire existence is forgotten.

Wasn't the upside down toxic? Why is everyone just fine inhaling the shit?

The queerbait. No, gay people didn't bait themselves. Netflix, the Duffers, and the actors were actively promoting Byler and hyping up Will's sexuality when in reality Byler is just doomed, not just as a romance but as friendship as well. And Will did not explicitly come out to anyone. People are STILL in denial that he's gay and that's exactly why you make characters come out instead of keeping it "up to interpretation wink wink"

Will calling Mike the heart of their group yet Mike's the one who broke their party up the most.

Mike saying he instantly fell in love with Eleven when they met, as if he didn't tell her to shut up, go away and stop being weird back then.

Mike saying his life started on the day he met Eleven, the same day Will went missing, in his face. When Mike said before that the best thing he had ever done was befriend Will in kindergarten.

So did Vecna create the Mind Flayer or did it already exist? Cause if Vecna created it that's so goddamn lame and it adds no new mystery.

The continuous stereotypes and suffering/deaths of outcasts, poor people, queer people and people of color. One black character plays basketball and the other is a sassy one-liner. The brown guy is a funny weed man with barely to no relevancy to the plot. One lesbian gets a lazy background ship with a girl who is an exact copy of herself and the gay character is living in a painful unrequited love story and used as fuel for the main straight couple, without even being given a canon coming out scene. All this while the straight couples get together and have tons of moments together. Eddie who is poor, is seen as a cultist, dies and nobody besides 2 people mourn his death. Max, another poor character who had already lived through trauma and abuse, dies, gets brought back to life, is now comatose, probably crippled, and maybe permanently blind.

Will's endless suffering. He just can't ever be happy can he? Wtf is wrong with the writers...

Did the Russian crew just end up at Hoppers cabin like that in 2 days? No problems whatsoever? Wow that's convenient.

Hopper hugs Mike but not his new stepsons?

Not one, not two, but three jokes about Hopper once having been fat because he's lost weight in the prison.

Comments had some great additions and I came up with some more too so here's more:

Nobody showed up to Lucas' game when he had a very valid reason to want to play, and it was never brought up again. They all stood him up.

Eddie's death was so rushed and predictable. I saw it coming as soon as he said his whole "I'm a coward I run away I'm not a hero" speech. It's typical "I'm a coward so I'll die a hero" foreshadowing which is overused and just horrible. And in the end he didn't even save anyone, it was completely unnecessary. Eddie deserved to live.

Eleven not being able to win the final fight until she got validation from her boyfriend. Why was she not allowed to do this by herself?

The military watching the pizza van drive off and then do nothing about it? I thought they were experts at tracing and tracking, but nope, they just gave up after Eleven escaped the underground lab.

Just the Cali crew being sidelined so much when they once were such interesting characters (besides Argyle)

Steve saying he always loved Nancy and never moved on despite him telling Robin in season 3 that he didn't like her anymore. Let Steve move on and stop having Nancy jump from boy to boy, hurting them both in the process.

Just a nitpick but the sound design was so overly dramatic at times? Like Brenner LITERALLY snapped a pencil and the sound design was like ☄️💥🔥

Tell me what I missed cause I'd love to add it on this shit list.

#the disappointment i feel #stranger things #stranger things season 4 #stranger things volume 2 #stranger things spoilers #st 4 vol 2 #st 4 #will byers #mike wheeler #nancy wheeler #jim hopper #eleven #el hopper #max mayfield #byler #long post #my post

1K notes · View notes