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har-rison-s · 8 months

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your good will: 36

quality alone time

a/n: well hello guys.... if anyone's still here that is... it's been more than a year. sorry, BUT!! i am back with this series. i'm moving away from my home country in november, so i wanna get on with this story until i move. that's not to say i'll stop writing when i'm there - no, no. but since mine and maggie's stories sorta go in parallel right now (minus the very hot bf), i figured it'd be easier to write these things. mainly, really, i write for one person - myself. sawrry, but it's true! this is my story, my fantasies, whatever yk. writing this story makes me feel less alone, and right now i feel more in love with steve than ever. so i hope you enjoy this chapter and a few new ones to come. it's so hard to write a happy healthy couple because i have no idea what it's like, i don't know if this is even right and isn't too cringey. but i also know i'd be the best girlfriend ever i want steve as my bf. I will not accept anything else. have you seen the gifs of steve & jonathan the writers have posted on twitter? kinda losing my mind laughing at them. also happy spooky season! and happy reading, as always :)

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word count: 6.6k

characters in this chapter: steve harrington, maggie byers (oc), robin buckley, the party

warnings: fluff, smut, p in v (they're not animals, tho, but keep in mind that young adults and teens tend to have crazier hormones than the regular person)

gif credit goes to owner! pretty princess...

“Awh, it's our song,” Steve says, getting up off the couch and pulling Maggie up with him, “dance with me.” He tells her in a whisper, and Maggie blushes, and knows she has no choice but to find her feet on the living room make-shift dance floor, agreeing to his plea. Steve holding her hands, looking into her eyes, Maggie blushes even more and lets a smile crawl onto her features. She looks at the screen of his TV. The intro of Speedwagon's “Can't Fight This Feeling Anymore” plays strongly from the speakers, and Maggie looks up at Steve.

Suddenly she realizes that Steve's making them dance alone together in front of Robin and the kids, an audience, and she feels very self-conscious. She moves closer to him, melting into his hold of arms around her and body reaching close. Just like that, Steve makes Maggie feel like they're the only two people in the world. With their song.

“I can't fight this feeling any longer,” Steve sings along to it in Maggie's ear, “and yet I'm still afraid to let it flow,” Maggie smiles warmly into his chest, her forehead resting against him, “what started out as friendship has grown stronger,” Steve lifts Maggie's chin so she'd look up at him, and she giggles at Steve's raised eyebrows and amused looks on his face. Well, she couldn't really count it as friendship - what their relationship started out on - it could be called ‘acquaintances in dangerous situations who decided to hang out just before christmas but it was clear from the first hang out that between them was already more than friendship’, and that's part of the reason she finds this all amusing. Her patching his beat-up face up was what kicked the whole thing off, really, “I only wish I had the strength to let it show.” Steve caresses her cheek and kisses it after.

Through their song, Steve hugs Maggie close and sways them like two penguins in a slow dance between the TV and the guys lounging on the couch. The cute little predicament reminds her of the day “Can't Fight This Feeling Anymore” became her and Steve's song. He played it when he asked her to be his girlfriend. January 23rd. Cold, snowy night in Hawkins. He sang along to every line, because he meant every line, and no song ever before had put his feelings into words quite as clearly as that one. He told her he figured he's not always that good with words, so when someone's written them before he could think them, it's a good choice to go with to tell her how he feels.

Maggie remembers how she said yes, and how special it made her feel to be asked to be his girlfriend, much less anybody's girlfriend at all. No boy had really come into her life ever before, and to have this kind of connection with someone made her over-the-moon ecstatic. If she'd had any proper friends then, besides her mom and two brothers, she'd tell all of them. If she was in the school paper, that would be top news. The question made her so happy she could have screamed it so loud that astronauts in space could have heard her.

The words are so special to both of them, and hit close to heart each time they hear them. It's uncanny how true to their relationship and its context the lyrics are.

“My life has been such a whirlwind since I saw you

I've been running 'round in circles in my mind

And it always seems that I'm following you, girl

'Cause you take me to the places

That alone I'd never find

And even as I wander

I'm keeping you in sight

You're a candle in the window

On a cold, dark winter's night.”

Maggie presses her forehead to Steve's, and both of them smile. They're still in their own world until the Party breaks the invisible seal and reminds them of their surroundings. “Look at them,” comes Robin's voice quietly, with a snicker at the end. The kids smile.

“Our baby-sitter parents are so cute,” Dustin joins in, and everyone has a laugh. Steve and Maggie crack into chuckles, too, and Maggie turns in Steve's arms to face the group, “you guys actually remind me of Suzie and me.” The young boy says, waving an index finger in the air. The Party break into exclamations of “no way!” and laughter. Even Steve laughs, his hair tickling Maggie's shoulder as his head hangs low, and Maggie just keeps smiling.

“Yeah, right,” Lucas laughs it off.

“No, it's true. The two of us are so much like these guys,” Dustin argues, “and now you all know that she is real, you can stop doubting it.”

“How could we forget?” Max asks. “Turn around… look at what you see-eee-eeee!” She starts to sing and the rest of the kids join her, laughing. Robin gets up from the couch and wrings Maggie out of Steve's grasp.

“I'll steal your girlfriend for just a bit, Steve,” she tells the older boy, who starts to frown, “we've got a party to plan.” Oh, right, Maggie had almost forgot. Steve's birthday party. The boy in question nods and runs a hand through his hair.

“Oooh, can we come?” Dustin asks, disrupting the Party's horribly off-key rendition of Never-Ending Story, directing all their attention to the older guys.

Steve points a finger at Dustin and, accidentally in unison with Maggie and Robin, tells him a stern “No. Not happening.” The girls giggle and walk from the lounge inside the kitchen, out of sight and hearing of the chaos that is about to pursue, called “Steve lists off good reasons for young kids to not come to his birthday party”.

“I'm so excited, look–I even got a notebook just for this!” Robin muses, pulling the mentioned notebook with a red cover out of her bag that's laying near-by. She slams it on the kitchen island and Maggie reads the words written on the front in permanent marker: “STEVE'S BIRTHDAY BASH”.

“Haha, that's great,” she tells Robin, “you're just a little more prepared than I am.” She admits and sighs, looking on dreamily as Robin opens the notebook. She notices Maggie's voice fading after saying that, and guesses that it must be because of everything that's happened, how it's still overwhelming her.

“Don't worry, we're a team at organizing this party,” Robin reminds her and nudges Maggie's shoulder with her own playfully, making the other girl smile, “so, guest list–who do we want there?” She asks and clicks a pen to write names down.

“Uh…” Maggie taps the kitchen island surface, thinking hard, “oh, the the basketball team. And swim team.” She says, and noticing that Robin isn't writing any names down, she takes the notebook and pen from her and begins writing the boys' names down. “It's okay, I know their names.” She assures Robin, and she nods.

“How big do you want this party to be, exactly?” She asks Maggie, and she shrugs.

“Um… well, I don't know. You said you had the idea to invite everyone, just for the fun of it. Would be cool if a lot of people would show up, actually,” she answers, “maybe I shouldn't even make a guest list and we should just… put flyers up everywhere - whoever wants to come, can come.” Maggie suggests.

“Yeah, but that could include people we wouldn't exactly want to show up,” Robin reminds her, and, catching her eye, Maggie realizes who she means.

“Tommy and Carol,” she says with a nod. But then Robin shrugs.

“But what if they do come? So what,” she says, “Steve won't care as long as he has, uh, you there.” Robin scratches out the names of football players Maggie managed to write down and just writes “EVERYONE” on the list.

“Really?” Maggie asks, looking up at Robin, and she nods surely.

“Really, I promise,” she says, “seriously, you light up not just the room when he sees you, but the whole world. I haven't known him that well, but when you guys started dating, it's like nothing else was important to him, nothing else made him as happy as you. Just seeing you in school or whatever.” Robin says matter-of-factly, casually, like it's no big deal. “Even if some of more my crowd comes, he won't mind. Maybe he'll freak out for half a minute, but after that he'll just forget. Won't care at all.” Robin shrugs and smiles at Maggie. She flips to a page where the words “FOOD & DRINKS” are written at the very top. Maggie rests her chin in her hand and sighs quietly.

She knew she had some sort of effect on Steve, like how he totally forgot about Tommy and Carol being at the skating rink because he was having a date there with Maggie, or how he actually learned to like properly studying in the last months of school, also because of her, and how he's generally become a less grumpy person to everyone, seeing how Maggie does it so easily.

Maggie wouldn't really be the person to notice this, because she never really knew Steve's communication with girls prior to her, but last fall, Steve was becoming closer with Dustin and giving him advice on girls… “Just act like you don't care.” “Even if you do?” “Even if you do. Drives them nuts.” Which, frankly, isn't the best advice, because girls like to be shown that they're important to someone, anyone. Maggie made Steve realize that. Because of Maggie, Steve learned how to get a girl's attention and how to talk to one without that technique. He learned how to let himself be involved with someone without holding anything back. You care, you show it, you're interested in someone, you show them, you act on it. You don't like something, you say it, you talk it out. Maggie made Steve drop the stereotypical behavior that made him so cool and popular in that regular high school of theirs, and it made him kind of a dick to girls.

What stopped him being a dick to girls was the whole ordeal with Nancy those two years ago. That also made him lose his hardly-any-kind-of friends - Tommy and Carol, because their true colors came out and Steve realized he's not like those kind of people at all, and doesn't want to be. He changed for the better - many things caused it, but Maggie, he and Robin would assume, most of all changed him. To be loved is to be changed, right? Maggie would never assume she'd have any effect on anyone or their lives, she's just… good old Maggie. Other people noticing her effect on Steve just makes it all the more real, therefore a little more unbelievable. Is she like actually making his life better, and has made him better? He's told her that in many ways multiple times, and has expressed his gratitude in lots of ways, too. Yet it still doesn't really stick in her stubborn mind.

“Alright, would he want a cake? Or no cake?” Robin asks, diverting Maggie's thoughts, breaking her out of the thought essay she's began to write in her wandering mind.

“Um, I could make one. We could do decorations together.” She answers, then looks up at Maggie. “Or make the whole cake together, if you want.”

“I'm kind of a kitchen hazard, but thanks for asking,” Robin nervously replies, “okay, cake,” she writes the word down, “what about other foods?”

“You can just be in the kitchen while I make it,” Maggie suggests, “I'd appreciate the company.”

“Oh,” Robin says quietly, “uhh, yeah, of course, no worries.” Robin's not really used to being invited to things, or included in them. She does have some friends, but they all have other friends, who are always the first option, not Robin. This is a nice offer. “Wh-when do you wanna make it?”

“I think Friday, a day before his birthday. Leave it in the fridge over night and it's gonna be fresh as ever on the day of,” Maggie says, “other snacks… well, I don't know. I don't really have that much money, so we could ask people to bring baskets or something.”

“Couldn't you ask Steve for money?” Robin butts in, and Maggie looks at her with slightly confused eyes. They're like Bambi eyes to Robin. “Oh, crap, was that the wrong thing to ask? Was that really rude of me just now?” Robin grows nervous. She's not the best at social etiquette.

Maggie knows that about Robin, but she wouldn't wanna make her feel awkward. “Not really, no,” she answers, “you're really practical in these things, Rob, and that's not a bad thing.” Maggie sighs. “I know Steve has a lot of money - well, mostly his parents do. My family doesn't, and… I just don't like asking for money. Especially from him, and since it's for his birthday party.”

“Well, I promise you he's ready to do anything for you,” Robin says, “but sorry, I shouldn't have asked and made this all… awkward.” She chuckles dryly, trying to ease the tension. Maggie puts her hand over Robin's, making the girl look at her. Maggie has a comforting smile on her face.

“You didn't,” she assures, “and you're forgiven, if that helps.” She tells Robin and pats her hand before withdrawing it. Robin feels so… comforted suddenly in her presence, but also all the more nervous. They're the same age, and Maggie's shorter than her, but most times Robin feels intimidated by her for no apparent reason. Intimidated in a good way, though, if that can even happen.

“Wow, you really are the angel Steve believes you are,” Robin blurts out, making them both laugh. Maggie just can't believe these compliments about herself, “okay, so we'll include 'bring your own basket and booze' in the flyers. What else? What time does the party start?”

“Hmm, I'd say… five? Six?”

“In the morning?” Robin jokes.

“Yeah, morning exercises for every teenager in town,” Maggie continues the joke, making them both laugh again. They go back and forth with jokes while planning out the party, even adding a schedule, because, although Steve keeps telling Maggie how he hates to be on display, the center of attention, and likes things be done privately, she knows he'll appreciate the surprise she's planned for him. Gifting him his special mixtape–a Byers signature gift–and making a toast to him in front of everyone in the middle of the party, around nine pm. The girls figure that will be the perfect time for a toast, and also an opportunity for other people to say what they want to Steve, though Maggie hopes no one takes it as a chance to embarrass Steve or play some nasty prank. She always wants everything to be on time, in harmony and perfect on someone’s special day.

“A mixtape. That’s such a cute gift,” Robin compliments Maggie’s idea, “anything else special planned?” Robin asks after Maggie whispers a quiet ‘thanks’, and now the shorter girl gently butts an elbow into Robin’s side at the question.

“Wouldn’t you love to know…” she jokes along, “okay, I think we’ve just about planned everything. We’re gonna need to get precious stuff that’s lying around the house up to Steve’s parents’ bedroom, and lock the room, just in case.”

“What about his room?” Robin asks, writing down ‘hide precious stuff in locked bedroom’ in her notebook.

Maggie shrugs. “He doesn’t mind if people go in there,” she states, “we could tell people to put gifts there–if they have a gift for Steve, that is.” She’s not very hopeful that more than three people will bring a gift. Most guests will just come and use the opportunity to drink themselves full. “Okay, what else…”

“Any rules for smoking or going in the pool?” Robin suggests.

“Eh, no,” Maggie answers, “smoke everywhere, swim–whatever. Maybe a no peeing sign for the pool.”

“Ooh, I can make that,” Robin says and writes it down in the to-do list as well, “any theme or dress code?”

Maggie shakes her head. “Nah,” she says, “people take that seriously only on Halloween.” She admits with an airy chuckle. “I think that’s it, huh? I’m kinda excited. Big high school summer party. Well, if a lot of people come, that is.”

“They will. I mean, you and I both know how popular Steve was in school,” Robin reminds her, “but most people will just come to drink, as you said.”

“Did you go to that Halloween party last year? I can’t remember whose it was, but that was an insane one,” Maggie tells her, but Robin shakes her head.

“I wasn’t invited,” she shrugs off.

“Me neither,” Maggie admits, “Jonathan kinda took me as his plus one, but I didn’t stick around for long. Such chaos.”

“Oh, wait, was that the party where Jonathan took Nancy home because she’d had too much to drink?” Robin recalls hearing something about it, and Maggie nods just as Steve comes into the kitchen. She hopes Robin won’t pull on the thread she’s whisked out. Wide eye glances exchanged, Steve feels a strange air in the room.

“How’s it going with the planning?” He asks.

“We’re just about finished,” Maggie answers, peeling herself off the kitchen island and heading to the fridge for a cold drink. Robin reminding her of the faithful Halloween party kinda threw her mood off-course.

“Great, cause the Beach Boys are about to get on stage,” Steve says.

“Ooh, my mom loves them,” Robin muses, “I’ll leave my notebook here, Steve, don’t you open it!” She tells him before walking back to the lounge. Maggie closes the fridge with a cold Coca-Cola in hand and sees Steve reading the title of the notebook. He chuckles.

“I won’t read it, don’t worry,” he assures his girlfriend, “I like surprises like this. Whatever you two have planned will be great.” Steve looks at Maggie and gives her a sweet smile. She returns one and comes closer to him, leaning into his embrace. They sway quietly and slowly to no particular rhythm in the empty kitchen.

“Is everyone having fun in there?” Maggie asks, the back of her head resting on Steve’s chest.

“Without a doubt,” he answers, “had to do some real convincing so Dustin or anyone else wouldn’t dare come to our party.” Maggie laughs at that. Those are a few head-strong kids in Steve’s lounge.

“I hope at least ten people comes to the party,” Maggie quietly wishes, “we went with the idea to just invite everyone. Robin said you wouldn’t mind.”

“Sure I won’t,” Steve assures, “Robin hasn’t really been to a party like this before, it will be fun for her. As long as you both are there, I don’t care who comes.” Maggie blushes and stands on her tiptoes to kiss Steve’s cheek. “You’re my best friends, you know.”

“Awh,” she says, snaking one of her hands up to the back of his head, scratching gently at his roots. Steve's eyes drop closed and he hums in what's lightly put as agreement to the motion, and Maggie smiles wider.

“How I love your hands in my hair,” he says in half-a-whisper.

“I know,” Maggie reminds him, “you'll get more later, when we're alone,” she makes sure to press her body into his more, knowing the effect that will have on him. Steve's grip on their intertwined hands around her waist tightens and he answers to her melted body against his with a push forward, gently pushing them both into the kitchen island, “I can't wait.” Maggie sighs, and presses a kiss to Steve's neck. She keeps at least one eye open for the entrance of the kitchen, in case anyone comes barging in.

“What if we…” Steve starts to say, one hand of his trailing down to Maggie's thigh, “skip ahead a little?” He suggests all while trying not to turn his words into moans with Maggie's hand raking his roots. Maggie smiles, turns around in his arms, pressing her back into the island, and pulls Steve closer, both hands in his hair, and a leg hiked over his hip. Steve's lips are immediately on hers, any caution towards the others in the house thrown to the side.

“We practically have… a full house,” Maggie reminds him between kisses and heaved breaths. Steve's hand slips under her shirt, raising goosebumps along her waist as it discovers the skin there for the hundredth time in their lives. Maggie is nearly fully laid on the kitchen island now, their bodies moving against each other border-line hungrily.

“I could ask them to leave,” Steve comes up with a solution, and Maggie just quietly laughs at the idea. She lays a fleeting kiss on his lips before squirming out from beneath him, regaining her breath, “uh, hello?” Steve exclaims in confusion, running a hand through his hair and looking at his girlfriend with wide eyes. His hair looks wild as Maggie admires his overall disheveled character, sipping on her cold Cola with a grin threatening to break into chuckles. These exact words from him remind her of the time when it was them both against the Party in Maggie's kitchen, when they had the bright idea to leave the house and distract the demo-dogs.

“Tempting, but… no,” Maggie tells him teasingly, still holding back from laughing out loud. Teasing her boyfriend is more fun than she expected. Before Steve can argue back or do anything to still hold her back, Maggie flees the kitchen, well on her way to the lounge. Now Steve's all hot and bothered and has a house full of guests. He shakes his head with a subtle smile on his lips, realizing what she's getting at. He's not sure she's done this before, Maggie's always been shy and private about these things. Oh, he'll get her back, later.

Steve returns to the lounge just as Beach Boys are finishing their first song, and he brings with him a Coca-Cola for everyone. “Here you guys are,” Steve hands everyone their drinks and receives many thanks, and then returns to the spot next to Maggie with a sigh. She smiles at him, tilting her head up at him, and Steve smiles back. He puts his arm around her and shifts his attention to the TV while Maggie gets comfortable in his hold.

They all laze around the lounge, singing and dancing to the songs playing, until the sun starts to set. Dustin and Steve have their fun to Queen's performance televised from London, Will and Robin have a great time during the Thompson Twins show, Max and El rave out to Madonna, and over-all the Party have a great time together with the baby-sitters to the largest pop music charity gig there ever could be. When the kids get to leaving, because they fell asleep just now at Phil Collins' set, Robin says they're about to miss the most fun.

“Duran Duran are about to get on,” she protests, standing in front of the TV, between the kids at the doorway and Maggie and Steve on the couch.

“Nah, it's okay, we'll watch at home,” Mike says with a dismissing hand gesture, “my house is closest, so we'll go there.” He looks around his friends, and they all nod. Maggie notices Will smiling, and seeming as close to his friends as he always was, before the whole misunderstanding this summer.

“Yeah, we better leave the babysitter parents alone,” Dustin tells Robin in less than a quiet whisper than he'd intended to. Maggie and Steve act like they know nothing about it as Robin looks them over. Ugh, she missed a cue again. And somehow Dustin always seem to know everything, pick up on little hints and quirks. Steve's thankful for that, because this is less awkward than asking everyone to leave at some point would be. But the kids made that decision themselves, thankfully.

“Oh, well, I'll split with you guys, then,” Robin decides with a shrug of her shoulders, and Dustin smiles, nodding, “Maggie, I'll see you next week.” She salutes her, and Maggie does the same.

“Yeah, I'll call you,” she confirms, “thanks for coming, you guys.” Maggie tells all the kids, and they mumble each their own thing in response, including a string of 'byes' as they leave the room. Maggie and Steve wave at Robin and the group as Robin follows the group out.

“Bye, get home safe!” Steve calls after them, their laughter fades out across the house. And then they shut the door behind them, all that's left in the house is the noise from the TV. “Well, hello, teaser,” Steve greets Maggie in a low voice and attacks her with tickles to her sides and kisses to her neck. She immediately explodes with laughter, tries to squirm away, but has no choice. She squeals and yelps, swatting Steve with her hands until he lets up and just smiles at her, laying now below him on the sofa, “you didn't tease me in the kitchen, right? That was someone else.” Steve jokes as Maggie regains her breathing, but she can't, because this makes her laugh even more.

She locks her legs around Steve's waist, pulls him lower down to her, “No, that wasn't me,” she says and takes Steve's face in both hands, “I was just getting a Cola,” she says in a played-up innocent voice, “why, did I get you all high and dry?” Maggie teases and slips her hand into Steve's shorts. He raises his eyebrows at her, noting once again her sudden boldness in these matters.

“You could say that,” he breathes and waits for Maggie's next step. She doesn't do much, just teases him some more with her hand ghosting over his growing erection, a grin spreading her lips. She knows what she's doing. But she stops, her hand traveling up to his happy trail, a finger just tracing it upwards. Seeing the defeated look on Steve's face, she bursts into giggles, as if he'd started tickling her again, “you are a tease.” Steve says with a shake of his head. Maggie shrugs and keeps one hand at the bottom of Steve's chest and the other on his cheek, caressing it softly.

“Do you like it?” She quietly asks and Steve nods, though not completely sure.

“Yeah, I did,” he finally tells her and kisses her lips slowly, feather-like, “my sweet girl,” Steve nicknames her quietly in her ear, laying a kiss right next to it, making Maggie's heart flutter just like it did when they first started to go out together. She smiles and gently holds the hand that Steve cradles the side of her porcelain face with. She loves it when he touches her face, and is so glad he picked up on it at one point in time by himself, because she is too shy to ever say it out loud.

Steve has a similar thing, he'd be lying if he said her holding his cheek didn't turn him into complete putty, putting him at her total mercy, succumbing to her completely. Of course, he's always at her mercy. He's just glad to finally be alone with her–kids always getting in the way. Now it's quite the perfect setting - love songs playing in the background from the still-going concert, they're alone in the house, how much more perfect could it be?

Steve nips and kisses at her neck, ever so sensitive, as his and Maggie's bodies are already moving in tandem against each other. Their legs tangled together, heating each other up more and more with every second, this Indiana heat wave has nothing on them working each other up. Maggie nearly feels like she can't breathe, like she forgot how to.

She pushes Steve's hair away from his face, bringing him down to her kissed-a-million-times lips, and that seems to have helped the shortage of air thing. “Steve,” Maggie sighs his name so heavenly to him, making both of them have deja-vu. She hikes her dress up higher, so it's be easier for Steve a few moments later.

“Baby,” he mewls back, hands now roaming all over Maggie, touching every spot of her like live wires, “y'make me feel like we're in my car again, and it's cold outside.” Steve confesses, and Maggie chuckles, because that's what she was thinking, too. Their first proper make-out in his car. It was winter. “Only your hands aren't cold.” Steve smiles and kisses her jaw again. Maggie's smile stretches wider.

“And we have nowhere to be, and no curfew,” she adds on, and chuckles at Steve for making a half-moan at those reminders. She'd think no curfew turns him on. Steve pulls away from her for just a moment to take his shirt off, throwing it somewhere behind the couch, but returns to her just as quickly and gives kisses to the inside of her hands, gives kisses all over them.

“God, I love these hands,” he tells Maggie, and she catches his eyes just for a split second, a bit of a crazy look in them. She knows he gets that way when he's really riled up, “and I love this face,” Steve says with pursed lips, grabbing both sides of Maggie's face and kissing all over it, too. She tries to laugh, because it sort of tickles and Steve's sudden madness is amusing, but she's nearly suffocated by him, so her laughter comes out muffled, “and I love this girl.” He kisses Maggie's lips and looks right at her to see the beautiful expression of her smiling now, too. He's sure there is no sight more beautiful than Maggie Byers smiling.

“Bet you love being inside me more,” Maggie bites back at him, pulling him down to her again, now right between her legs, her pulsating crotch on his very much hard one. This boldness that keeps showing up in Maggie puts Steve back a moment, he looks at her in played-up disbelief with his lips parted, though a devilish grin is growing on them. She just shakes her head, Steve looking at her making her feel embarrassed, “come on, just get in there.” A deep blush growing on her cheeks.

“My, my, my,” Steve says in-between pants while adjusting his underwear and then Maggie's, complying to her straight-forward request right away–you don't need to tell him twice. When he enters her, the laughter leaves the room for just a little while, quiet noises of adjustment and the start of pleasure filling in for the moment, “you're so right, Maggie,” Steve heaves in her ear, his hand interlinking with hers as he starts to move at the slow pace he knows Maggie likes. He loves being inside her, it's just indescribable, unrepeatable. Maggie bites her lip, hardy able to concentrate on whatever Steve is saying or wants to say when she's looking up at him. His hair has fallen out of the place Maggie tucked it into just moments ago, golden-brown streaks of hair with blonde highlights here and there falling over his forehead. Steve's eyes are the usual beautiful brown that they are, eyebrows knit together in intense concentration, his cheeks pink over the summer tan, his lips parted. His other arm is strained over Maggie, gripping the armrest, his famous thin, gold chain swaying above her. He is just so breath-taking that she can't look away, neither can she think of or concentrate on anything else, “you bold, bold girl.” Steve says with a faint grin on his lips.

Maggie chuckles, shakes her head, almost tries to hide from him behind the one hand covering her face. But Steve moves that hand away with the knot of their intertwined hands, uncovering her blushing, plump cheeks and beautiful, thoughtful eyes, even if they are filled with shyness. They look into each other's eyes, watch as their lips part with their heavy breaths and moans that fuel their desire for one another. Steve's the first one to crack - literally cracking up with giggles out of nowhere - his head now resting on Maggie's chest. She starts giggling, too, Steve being just that infectious, and they soon become an intertwined mess of laughs, moans and panting. Neither of them would wish it any other way.

“I love you so much,” Steve says out of breath right when he knows he's not far from that push off the edge. And he recognizes Maggie's body language so well that he knows she's not far, either, “my pretty girl,” Steve muses, “I know you're close.”

“Yeah, Stevie,” Maggie confirms in her own heave of breath, “you feel so good inside me,” she confesses to him, and Steve moans. He loves praise just as much as she does. Steve runs his free hand up the inside of Maggie's thigh, lifting it higher and wider up, therefore reaching a deeper spot inside her with his length. It makes the girl whine, her back coming off the couch, “ah, just like that.” She praises to him. “C-Can you go faster?” She requests, though shy in doing so, because she's known to like taking things slow.

It surprises Steve, but he nods. “Yeah,” he heaves, “yeah, of course.” He rests both forearms by Maggie's head, knowing it will be easier this way, and quickens his pace inside her. Maggie holds onto Steve's frame with the hand that's not intertwined with his, and adjusts to the new change. Both their breathing weighs heavier, their bodies hot against each other, intertwined, eye contact stronger than the poor couch they’re driving out of its place. “Like that, baby?” Steve checks in, and only gets the best answer ever - a high-pitched moan from Maggie he’s not sure he’s head before.

“Yeah,” Maggie whines, her head falling back as he continues to thrust into her. God, it feels like heaven. She wouldn’t have expected herself to like this fast, but something was missing and this was it. Steve’s hitting all the right spots inside her, grazing her walls in such a torturingly pleasure-filled way, nearly making her see stars. Feels like he’s killing her, but in the best way on earth, “Steve…”

“Baby,” Steve responds in the same tone of desperation, eroticism, pleasure, “gonna make you come, baby girl,” he promises her. Baby girl is new in nicknames, Maggie discovers, though barely conscious, but oh, how she loves it. She whimpers and clings to Steve as she feels herself finally reach that point, that sacred point she’s been teasing Steve and herself to come to for almost a whole day, “thaaaaat’s it, fuck…”

Steve stills inside her, reaching his orgasm in time with hers, filling her walls up with ribbons of his come, a quiet whisper of her name as his mantra. He rest his head on her chest, feels her hand tracing from his shoulder up to his hair, and hears Maggie not being able to say anything other than his name as she goes through and comes down her own release, just whispering it a barely audible volume. Her breaths come in long, heavy exhales, and she lays done under Steve, drifting back into reality. He moans at the heavily feeling of her fluid milking his length, warm, welcoming, familiar.

“You're incredible,” he praises in the midst of a mind-blowing orgasm, “that was amazing,” Steve says in a heave of breath and looks up at Maggie, those big, beautiful brown eyes staring at her through his fallen strands of thick hair. Maggie runs her hand through them to see his face, and she smiles, nodding.

“Yeah, that really was… somethin’,” she tells him as he gently pulls out of her, making her mutter a whimper at the end of her sentence. He sits up before her, bare chest with chest hair and his happy trail in all their glory just for Maggie to see, and she bites her lip as she takes him in. Never fails to make her swoon - seeing her boyfriend bare-chested. Steve sends her a wink and slaps his underwear back on, taking care of hers right after, sliding it back up her pretty legs.

He pulls her up with him so Maggie can sit in his lap, his back pressing into the couch, Maggie getting comfortable on top, and they embrace each other. Their breathing is still somewhat heavy, irregular at least. Maggie locks her hands at the back of Steve’s neck and pulls back a little, just to take another look at him. Hair wild, cheeks tinted pink, lips parted, eyes staring back at hers. She smiles sweetly at him.

“Baby girl, huh?” She asks, and Steve smile cheekily, a chuckle bursting through him, humming throughout Maggie. “I loved it when you called me that,” she admits, and Steve raises his eyebrows.

“I could feel that, yeah,” he says and pulls her back close to him by her waist, “really did the trick for you, baby girl.” Steve teases, bumping his nose with Maggie’s, it makes her giggle. He can feel the immediate effect that the nickname has on her in her body language, in how she breathes, how her hips still a little, yet yearn for closer touch, how her cheeks tint a raspberry color.

She kisses him on the lips heavily, finger pads once again going into the roots of his hair. “Stop, you’ll get me hot and heavy again,” Maggie warns him with a slight grin on her face. Steve smiles wide.

“What if I do…” he inquires, though rhetorically in part, looking at her in their closeness. His hands roam the skin under her shirt, still hot to the touch from their shenanigans.

“Well, then I’ll touch your hair again just how you like it,” she answers the question, “and we’d be at it all night.” Steve raises his eyebrows.

“I wouldn’t be complaining,” he tells her, and makes her laugh again. Maggie shakes her head as she laughs and moves around so she’d be laying back-first in her boyfriend’s hold, now both of them facing the TV, “wow, it’s still going.” He says, seeing the broadcasted stage and audience on the screen.

“Yeah, it’s not even that late yet,” Maggie reminds him.

“With you time works differently for me,” Steve admits to her and lays a kiss on her neck. Maggie smiles. How lucky she truly is.

“I love you,” she hums to him, momentarily looking up at him, and sees him almost upside down, which makes her giggle.

“And I love you,” Steve responds, hand caressing Maggie's cheek, “my beautiful girl.” She tucks her head into his neck, bends her legs in his lap, gets comfortable in his hold altogether. “Wanna watch a movie after this?”

“Yeah, that'd be fun,” she says, and suddenly it dawns on her. They spent most winter and spring evenings watching movies at Steve's house together, both got to pick the movies, after study sessions or even right after school. She's not gonna have that anymore when she moves away. She won't get a call from him asking her to come over, she won't be able to come over.

It dawns on Maggie how much she'll miss those nights. How much she'll miss Steve. She hugs herself all the more closer to him because of it, suddenly feeling very emotional, like she could either burst into a fit of hysterical laughter or start crying at any trigger either way. She tries to smile, but a sad expression paints across her face. And she can't shake this small epiphany.

series tag-list: @givemequeen @yllwtaxi @wnygirl2012 @watercolour-sloth @brinaprfct @whormotional @chaandii @e-lysium @tina1938 @mochminnie @talksoprettyjjx

permanent tag-list: @gabiatthedisco @v0idbella @works-of-fanfiction @ur-gunna-h8-ths @betweenloveandfire @but-legendsneverdie @deardeacy @thewinchesterchronicles @mavieesttriste16 @intrrverted @the-freak-cassie-131 @xoxobabydolls @corallyink @rottenstyx

let me know if you want to be tagged in future chapters !!!

#steve harrington x reader #har-rison-s work #har-rison-s writes #steve harrington smut #stranger things fan fiction #stranger things fic #steve harrington fic #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x oc #your good will #steve harrington series #stranger things series

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vecnuthy · 10 months

Note

🔀 for Steddie!

Yeees!! This is one of my favorite songs of all time.

Steve was going to get the lecture of a lifetime after this scavenger hunt, because, 1) it was eating away at his gas and he'd have to fill up soon, B) it was a lot of work, and Green) every second he spent doing this was time spent away from Steve. But Steve had said that if Eddie did it within three hours, there would be another surprise. The clock was ticking. And Eddie was sweating.

The directions said "No help," which Eddie was seriously considering ignoring. He'd been at this scavenger hunt all evening. The damn moon was out! But the "NO!!! HELP!!!" triple underlined in block letters and star stickers pretty much meant that Steve was serious. Especially with the "I'm SO serious!!" underneath it.

Eddie wondered if Steve had slammed an espresso at his café when he wrote these, because they seemed caffeine-fueled. The paper kind of smelled like coffee too — god, focus, Eddie.

The whole thing was pretty cute, though. Actually, Eddie really fucking loved it. Steve had chosen places of significance to their relationship, walking Eddie down a path of memories that Steve treasured, but staring at the envelope taped to the scantily-clad mannequin in the window, he couldn't help but be dramatic and sigh, thinking, I'm never going to see him again. It's been hours. (It had been an hour and a half) Does he just want me gone? Is this a wild goose chase? Geese are so mean, especially that one that bit me at—

"Are you Eddie?"

Eddie jumped a foot, clutching his chest as he whipped around to see a person halfway out the shop's door, who rushed out a tinkling apology at his shock.

"I am, and I think that's mine," he said through pufffs of air, pointing at the envelope as his heart rate tried to level back out.

"It sure is," they said warmly. A little too warmly. Why were they smirking?

The envelope read:

I can practically feel you being over this by now, so retrieve the armor and get ready to storm the castle, because your quest is almost over. Ask the clerk for the battle gear. Then come storm it already.

S ❤️‍🔥

An actual flaming heart. Steve was so cute, had put SO much effort into this, and all Eddie wanted to do was finally be reunited with this dork and tell him everything he thought about it.

"Looks like I need one battle gear, please."

The clerk's eyebrows shot up, amused, but they said nothing else as they walked around Eddie and started removing the mixture of mesh and leather from the mannequin. Until:

"So put this on first, because it attaches to the...." the clerk explained the order to put the contraption on, the absolutely stunning mess of straps with mesh accents, and Eddie was just stuck in brain-melting mode, knowing in his soul he wouldn't remember any of that, but then it hit it that Steve was going to be wearing it.

His whole body lit up like a match.

"One battle gear, already paid for," they handed the bag over, adding, "And instructions are in the bag." Thank god.

Eddie squeaked out a thank you, took the bag, and headed to the castle, aka, their apartment in an oddly ornate building in the most queer-safe part of Indianapolis. He marveled at the way he hit nothing but green lights the whole way home.

Eddie burst through the door, yelling for Steve, who came into view in a plain white tshirt and baggy jeans, his wire rimmed glasses catching the light, hair looking big and swoopy and soft.

Looking divine.

"Hey, Strider, did you have fun? It wasn't too much, was it?" Steve asked, moving in to give him a kiss, but Eddie more than met him halfway and basically slammed into him, pushing Steve's glasses into his hair (with a finesse that honestly surprised him) so he could give a bruising kiss as he pinned Steve to the wall.

"Fucking marry me," he growled into Steve's ear.

"What?"

"Marry. Me." He bit down on Steve's neck then got very confused when Steve pushed him away with a breathy "No."

"No?"

"No, you beat me to it, you jerk. Just gimme a second." And then they were kissing again, or as much as they could through smiles, then Steve informed him his eyes glittering with mischief, "The surprise was going to be me asking you, but— "

"What if I hadn't made it?" Eddie squawked.

"I had every faith in you," he sealed it with a kiss to the tip of Eddie's nose. "You got your battle gear?"

Eddie pointed to the forgotten bag on the floor.

"Wait, my battle gear?"

Steve nodded, biting his lip and doing a horrible job of holding back a smile.

"I've got mine on already."

And Eddie could see it now, the black under the thin white shirt. Could feel it as his fingertips traced the design, felt the varied texture of lace.

"We've gotta get you in yours, now, big boy."

Eddie, soon to be engaged to one Steve Harrington, was in for quite the night.

#steve dressing eddie in a body harness and lingerie?? while in some himself but it's just under regular degular clothes?? 😵‍💫#anyway the song is full of pining and yearning about a significant other that may no longer be theirs but. i couldn't do that to these.#so scavenger hunt that was supposed to build to steve popping the question but eddie being feral over his bf derails that #steddie #steddie drabble #steddie ficlet #proposal mid body worship is what's in store for eddie btw #thank you for sending one in!! 🖤🖤#vec fic #fics #fic

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faofinn · 8 months

Text

No.12 "I haven't slept in days, but who's counting?"

@whumptober-archive

Red | Insomnia | "I'm up. I'm up!"

Harrison swayed as he stood, staring blankly at Steve in front of him. He could see his mouth moving, but he couldn't work out what he was saying. He nodded for the sake of it, bored of the conversation and just so tired. Steve knew he wasn't paying attention, but he didn't really mind. He knew Harrison was struggling, it was beyond obvious, but there was nothing he could do. Harrison wasn't going to accept help, and he couldn't force him.

The conversation seemed to be over, and Harrison didn't have anything else to do. He was exhausted, so disappeared into his room, flopping onto his bed with a groan.

Steve gave him some space, knowing full well he needed the rest. He was worried about him, of course, but there wasn’t much he could do. He couldn’t fix his sleep, just had to hope he got the peace he needed and was able to drift off. He kept quiet around the house, careful not to make too much noise.

He’d been worried about Harrison for days, up seemingly all hours. Even when he went to his room, Steve could hear him up, doing things, moving stuff around, going to the kitchen and back at 2am. It kept Steve awake, worrying about him, worrying that he might go back to alcohol, use that to finally settle him off, but for the mean time, he didn’t.

He did some work in his little office, reading through some old research papers for a patient he’d had on his mind. Time passed, and he’d not heard anything out of Harrison. He hoped that was a good sign, that his son had finally managed to get some sleep. He worried about nightmares, too, knowing full well that was why he’d had so much trouble in the first place, but things were quiet. He typed some notes up, set about making dinner, and still hadn’t heard anything out of Harrison. He wasn’t about to wake him, not for food. He’d cope missing one meal, he could have it another time.

Once Steve had eaten and put Harrison’s portion in the fridge, he watched some TV for a while and then headed to bed himself. It was late now, and he finally worked up the courage to open Harrison’s door, carefully so not to make a sound. He was passed out asleep on top of his duvet, lights still on and curtains undrawn. With a shake of his head, Steve slipped inside. He draped a blanket over his son, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of his head, drew the curtains quietly and flicked the light off. Hopefully he wouldn’t get woken up by the cold, or the light in the morning.

#whumptober2023 #No.12 “I haven't slept in days but who's counting?”#insomnia #whump writing #whump prompt #oc #fic #harrison cunningham #steve cunningham #sleep #fluffy whump #soft steve #found family #finally getting some rest #can't sleep #this was cute ngl #we love steve and hars

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waratah-moon · 1 year

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🖤 Prompts list is closed 🖤

FLUFF 1. "I could get used to waking up next to you, actually." 2. "You two are such a cute couple!" (jq x reader) 3. "Am I your lockscreen?" (Modern!eddie) 4. "I missed you so much." (rockstar!eddie) 5. "Stay the night?" (eddie x cheerleader!reader) 6. "Can we stay like this forever?" 7. "Have you seen my sweatshirt?" (eddie x cheerleader!reader) 8. "I think I'm in love with you." (jq x reader) 9. "I'm going to marry you one day." (rockstar!eddie) 10. "You're adorable when you ramble." (eddie x tutor!reader) 11. "You're lucky you're hot." (Eddie x cheerleader!reader) 12. "I may be an idiot, but I'm your idiot." (rockstar!eddie) 13. "Well this is awkward." (co-worker!steve)

SMUTTY 14. "I'll be gentle, I promise." 15. "Don't kink shame me." (eddie x cheerleader!reader) 16. "Fuck, do that again." (Older!Eddie x reader) 17. "You did all this for me?" (tattoo artist!eddie x best friend!reader) 18. "If you can't sleep... do you want to have sex?" (dad!eddie)

ANGST (inc. hurt/comfort. Fluffy endings only on this blog) 19. "We never got the timing right, did we?" 20. "Just let me take care of you." (nurse!steve) 21. "Can you please come and get me?" (eddie x cheerleader!reader) 22. "I used to daydream about us." (jq x reader) 23. "I never thought I'd be the one to hurt you." (eddie x cheerleader) 24. "My mum asked about you again." (jq x reader) 25. "Am I too late?" (best friend!eddie x reader)

MISC BLURBS Swear Jar (dad!eddie feat. Gremlin)

Hi! It's my birthday week and I'm celebrating by doing a drabble-a-thon (and clearing out my inbox!)...

Step 1. Choose a trope or AU (anything you can think of or check out this handy dandy list I posted yesterday)

Step 2. Choose a prompt from below the cut (once prompts have been requested I'll strike it out, then link the blurb once written.)

Step 3. Put it all together and send it my way! 💌

If none of that floats your boat, just send me a nice message (tell me about your day, or something you’re looking forward to) OR send me your own headcannon. I just want to celebrate with this awesome community ❤️

Reminder, I’m primarily writing for Eddie and Steve/ Joseph and Joe. But feel free to request any characters listed on my disclaimer or masterlist.

#waratah-moon's birthday 2023 #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #joseph quinn #joseph quinn x reader #joe keery #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harring x you #stranger things fic #maggie writes

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panickinganakin · 2 years

Text

stitches (10)

a/n- hi!! this is chapter 10 of ongoing steddie fic. you can find the other chapters here. i definitely recommend reading the other chapters if you haven’t, this is where things are gonna take a turn. enjoy!

1.1k words

tw: mention of fire, lil tension

Steve stood on a wooden chair from the dining table. He was trying to change the light bulb on the porch. "Need some help?" A voice came from behind him. He jumped slightly and braced himself against the wall. Hands immediately went up against his back, stabilizing him so he wouldn't fall.

"Jesus," Steve muttered, taking a deep breath.

"Oh, Harrington, that's not my name." Eddie's hands finally left Steve's sides and even though he wasn't looking at him, he would bet Eddie had a grin on his face. Steve stared at the light fixture; his face was burning, he knew he was bright red.

It had been a week since they had brought Eddie's half dead body to the lake house. It had been only three days since he was able to get out of bed and it was three days full of comments that kept Steve's chest squeezing. "Do you need help?" Eddie asked.

Steve finally looked at him and immediately wished he hadn't. He was shirtless, Steve's eyes went huge, "Eddie, where's all your bandages?"

Eddie shrugged and kicked a small rock that was on the porch. "Robin said I need to air my wounds out."

"Didn't say you had to be naked!" Robin's voice yelled from the living room.

Eddie puffed a breath, "Damn, she hears everything," Steve said, shaking his head.

"Lesbians hear everything. They're sort of all knowing." Eddie said quieter this time.

Steve finished screwing in the lightbulb and clapped his hands together to dust them off, "Easy peasy."

Eddie stared at Steve in disbelief before he finally shook his head, "C'mon, Dustin's almost got the fire pit ready. We need to grab the s'mores and hotdog supplies." Eddie opened the front door and Steve followed him in.

The idea had come to Dustin last night. They all were piled up in the living room watching a movie Robin had picked up from work, even though it was still temporarily closed. Dustin had sighed and complained about being bored then suggested they all have a bonfire. So, Steve had went to buy s'mores stuff early this morning.

Dustin was standing a few feet from the fire, jabbing it was a big metal pole. "Where the hell did you find that?" Steve asked, carrying an arm full of graham crackers and marshmallows.

"In the shed," Dustin said without glancing at Steve.

"What shed?" Steve was confused.

"That one, Harrington. Jesus." Dustin pointed a gray tin building and Steve sighed, shaking his head. Dingus.

"That's not my shed."

"Well.. Either way. Found it."

"Don't you think this fire is going to like. draw attention to us?" Robin asked as she neared the chairs Steve and Dustin had pulled outside earlier today. She took a seat next to Eddie and glanced at him with a sad look. "Are you sure you're feeling up to this?"

"What? Sitting?" He asked in a sarcastic tone.

Robin sucked in a breath, "Munson if you weren't covered in demon bat wounds I would punch the shit out of you."

The four of them laughed together then Eddie sighed. "Uncle Wayne and I used to have bonfire every friday night. While everyone was at the football and basketball games we would sit by the fire and eat hotdogs and chili, right out of the can. We would talk about any and everything.." Eddie sighed and crossed his legs, "I miss him."

Steve chest squeezed with guilt, "Maybe we can tell him soon. Now that we know you aren't going to die."

"The police are probably watching him like hawks along with having the phones tapped." Eddie frowned and scratched the back of his neck. Steve noticed this was something he did a lot when he was thinking deeply or seemed to be upset.

"I wish there was something we could do to prove your innocence," Dustin took a seat finally and shook his head. "It's not fair. You practically saved all their asses."

Steve glanced at Dustin and he was staring at his shoes, probably thinking of every idea they had already listed. Robin laughed lightly obviously trying to break up the mood, "Too bad El doesn't have mind control powers. She could just make them believe whatever."

Steve noticed Dustin still at the mention of El so he tried to bring the conversation away from it. "Too bad you don't have an estranged sibling that looks like you and tell the police it was actually all them and you're innocent."

"Bet you wished that, huh? A sister that looks like me?" Eddie grinned at Steve. Steve swallowed hard, he hated how utterly confused Eddie made him. He was beyond attracted to him but he couldn't piece anything together. He cared about all of his friends; why did this feel so different?

Dustin's head whipped up, "Eureka! That's it. That's fucking it!" He shouted, pulling Steve away from his thoughts about Eddie.

"What is it, Henderson?" Steve narrowed his eyes.

Dustin moved back and forth quickly, shaking his hands as if they had gone numb or something. "El! Steve! Do you remember when El ran away and showed up at Will's with that eyeliner all over her?" Dustin stepped close to Steve and Steve nodded, encouraging him to continue. If Dustin had really came up with a plan to clear Eddie's name, Steve was more than ready to hear it. "Don't you remember where she had been? With her sister!" He jumped and down. "Her sister!"

"Woah, El has a sister?"

"No and yes. It's her sister. They were in the lab together. Ahhh, her name, what was it?"

Steve jumped up and grabbed Dustin's arms, "Kali!" Holy fucking cow, how could they forget? How had they not thought of this yet?

"Yes! Kali! Kali can control what people see! She can make them see whatever she wants! It's perfect. Holy fuck it's perfect!"

Steve and Dustin jumped up and down together and Eddie and Robin both stared at them with confused expressions. "So that helps us how?"

Steve and Dustin stopped, "Isn't it obvious? We need her help. We can set up a crime scene and like-"

"We'll call the police! They'll show up and Kali can make them see someone who doesn't even look like Eddie and- and," he was having to take deep breaths. He was so excited now he could barely talk.

Dustin finished his sentence for him, "And Kali makes them see that person as the criminal! Then they'll know it wasn't you!"

Steve sucked in a breath and grinned then frowned, looking at Robin and Eddie, "Do you need to be told everything?"

taglist: @ohmyitsfaith

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daisybeewrites · 2 years

Text

what if i wrote a fic where robin was nervous abt going to prom in a suit so steve went with her to buy the suit and tried on dresses to make her feel better but he actually ended up loving some of them

#steve harring #steve and robin #robin st4 #robin stranger things #st4 #st5 #modern au #wip #fic idea #stranger things #steve harrington

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babyjakes · 6 months

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〈 disclaimer: this blog posts content not suitable for individuals under the age of 18. minors are strictly prohibited from viewing, sharing, or interacting with this blog. for more information on this blog's commitment to protecting minors, read our full statement here. 〉

nav | masterlist | rules | library

eun participates in kinkmas 2023, twenty four days of kinky thots, blurbs, and fics!

please note: prompts have no assigned date. due to an unplanned mini-hiatus, three days feature double prompts.

fics.

flamingo pink | daddy!ari levinson x puppy!reader | prompt: pet play

a diamond's gotta shine | soft!daddy!lloyd hansen x little!reader | prompt: toys

clear blue water | soft!dark!daddies!steve rogers and ari levinson x little!reader | prompt: watersports

lock them out and throw a feast | soft!dark!curtis everett x front-ender!reader | prompt: food play

help me hold onto you | steve rogers x avenger!reader | prompt: sex pollen

devils roll the dice | hitman!robert pronge x innocent!reader | prompts: sex tape + medfet

did something bad | soft!daddy!lloyd hansen x little!reader | prompts: interrogation + weapon play

you all over me | soft!dark!daddies!steve rogers and ari levinson x little!reader | prompt: double penetration

blurbs.

not trying to play | bf!jake jensen x subby!reader | prompt: nipple play

in the middle of the night | dark!stepdad!pete brenner x reader | prompt: somnophilia

delicate | daddy!ari levinson x little!reader | prompt: virgin

thots.

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atinylittlepain · 4 months

Text

Warm

college!steve harrington x f!oc

series masterlist

Steve gets flustered in an art museum. She kind of likes it.

18+ smut, normal hairy female bodies, steve is kind of a perv in the best way, smut duh, and verrryyyyyy sweet, also robin and eddie being good roommates

note: the painting that Andy and Steve look at is called l'origine du monde by Gustave Corbet and you can check it out here. This fic is for bush (not the president) and bush only, thanks.

.............................................................................

Steve is a good guy, right? Right. Respectful, respectable, two percent in his cheerios in the morning, light wash denim and clean sneakers, and he flosses two times a day, clean bill at every dentist appointment and he shows it, curls half a smile when he holds the door open for girls on campus, all ease, all-American and alright. Studying business, and of course he is, though his parents don’t know about the women’s studies minor he picked up all because of a flushed little crush on a professor that never amounted to anything, coupled with Robin strong-arming him into taking a few more classes with her. But that’s okay, he likes the classes, and he likes the classmates.

“Do you need a partner?”

“Hmm? Oh, I was just going to work alone actually.” Big scarf tucked up around her neck and a big coat wrapped up around her and she barely even glances at him down the slope of her nose, already refocusing on the painting in front of her. But he’s a good guy, right? Right. A real team player, tilting his head, and letting his hair fall into his face, a little shy, a little smile. She glances at him, unimpressed hook of her brow and her eyelashes lifting up over the rims of her glasses. Her name is Andy, he knows, though they haven’t spoken, at least not directly. She’s been known to correct him in class however, her hand raising after his, quick and cutting. He maybe, kinda, sorta likes that.

“I think we’re supposed to, you know, discuss what we’re looking at with each other for the VHS thing.”

“VTS.”

“What?”

“It’s called VTS. Visual thinking strategies. Are you sure you want to discuss this painting with me?”

“I’m game if you are.” She smiles, and he’s already thinking about which of her palms he’d like to write his number on. But when he finally looks at the painting, he finds himself to be a lot less concerned with his phone number.

“So, Steve, what’s the first thing you notice about this painting?”

“Um, well, I–”

“Is it too much for you?” Heat is prickling in a bloom up his neck, her smile sharp as her eyes flit between him and the painting, the painting that he really should have looked at before approaching her.

“No, no, it’s not too much. It’s– appreciation of the female form, right?” He’s not sure where to look any more, a strange kaleidoscope with how quickly his eyes are darting between scraps of the painting and her face. A freckle under her eye, and then swaths of cream and pink brush strokes and then the hitch in her cheek where her smile curves and then, and then.

“Hair.” His voice pitches and cracks somewhere in the word, turning one syllable into two like a hiccup. She laughs a clipped sound.

“Hair?”

“Around her– around her–”

“Around her cunt?” Something hot tightens in his chest, maybe shame, though shame doesn’t feel good like this does. He feels foolish, the quick whip of his head around like he’s worried they’re going to get caught, though for what he isn’t sure. Likewise, he has no clue what’s causing this devastating fluster, this feathering of heat. Whatever it is, it’s making it very hard to look at her, though the way his gaze has fixed on the painting doesn’t feel much better either. He’s never heard a woman use that word before. Actually, scratch that, he’s pretty sure he’s never heard anyone use that word before, not in Hawkins, at least, not corn fed and halfway bible bred, at least. It sets something slick shimmering inside of him, something warm that’s making it hard to think.

“Are you blushing?”

“I’m not, I’m just appreciating the work.”

“L’origine du monde.”

“What was that?”

“That’s the name of the painting. Origin of the world.”

“Well, that, uh, I guess that tracks.”

“It’s a shame, don’t you think?” When he does finally look at her again, she’s smiling, all ease, all cool, and him anything but, his fingers tapping a nervous rhythm into his hip.

“What’s a shame?” She sighs, a long sound, letting her neck roll to the side so her cheek scrunches into the plush of her scarf, a wistful look.

“The current trends. Looking like prepubescent girls. No hips, bald vaginas, everything so… sterile.” She speaks with a bluntness that winds him, if he’s being honest, her expression schooled, and maybe a little disillusioned, brow pinched and mouth pulling down in a grimace.

“I guess I hadn’t really thought about it.”

“Yeah, well, you have a cock. Makes things a little simpler, doesn’t it?”

“Jesus Christ, do you always talk like this?” He says it just a little too loud, a little too breathless, heads turning in the gallery around them, and he thinks he might regret even trying with this girl. Should’ve stuck with the tried and true, that blonde girl that wears sticky sweet lip gloss and smiles at him from across the room during lectures. But this girl, with her arched brow and her twitching smile and the dark flicker of nail polish when she smooths the throat of her scarf. This girl has his number, and not in the way he’d like her to.

“What do you prefer, Steve? Do you like a girl with a smooth shave?”

“Well I think that, um, a woman’s body is her own choice.” And it has to be the dumbest string of words he’s ever said, breathed out on two static exhales, a garbled parroting of what he’s learned in these classes, right? Well, sort of.

“How progressive of you.”

“But the painting is really, you know, it’s, um, it feels warm?” Not sure where that came from, another fresh flood of heat rising and buoying up into his cheeks. Though her expression seems to soften, her smirk falling into something lighter. Maybe, maybe, he got one right.

“Yeah, I think I get what you mean. There’s a softness to it that’s beautiful, don’t you think?”

“Mmhmm.”

“But also a strength, a frankness to it.”

“Yes, yeah.” That sick swirl of shame but not shame is receding, and only leaving a nice sort of haze in its place, his head lolling a little, eyes raking over the painting, the catch of light, the soft rounding of a body at rest, slumped and plush and kind of perfect, he thinks. Although he’s pretty sure Andy would correct him for perfect, perfect not being the point, because perfect is oppressive, right? Right. Fuck perfect, he thinks, this is something better than perfect. And maybe she is too.

“Steve?” Her hand on his arm, purple nail polish and a close-lipped smile snapping him back into his body, hmm? And her smile spreads, and the warmth does too, and she’s saying something about the prof calling them back together and he’s mmhmm-ing on the heels of her brown leather boots. And she sits next to him when they get back on the bus, Robin giving him a stink eye that breezes right over the top of his head as she passes down the aisle because he’s a little busy trying to take discreet inhales through his nose of whatever perfume Andy wears, spice and strong and warm, that same warm.

And it isn’t his number that gets jotted onto her palm, but her address that she scrawls onto the soft inside of his wrist, right over the catch and jump of his pulse, because she has invited him over for a drink tonight to continue our conversation from earlier.

Robin doesn’t even have a chance to snit at him for leaving her stranded to the back of the bus because he’s already shuffling her along by the crooked wing of his elbow, hands tucked down deep in his jacket pockets, snow starting to flit and fall from the gray hang of sky.

“I need your help.”

“You have a date.”

“I’m not sure.”

“It’s a date. She was like, rubbing your wrist. That’s a date.”

“I need your help.”

“Yeah, you do.”

Because Andy is not light washed denim and polo shirts and two percent milk. He’s seen her in the campus coffee shop, she takes soy, sometimes almond, for the record. So when they get back to their apartment, the smell of electric heat washing over them and curling in their lungs, they don’t go to Steve’s closet, they go to Robin’s.

Robin’s first pull is a turtleneck. He scoffs.

“What? Turtleneck dudes are definitely that chick’s type. Are you kidding me right now?” And when he assures her that he is, in fact, not kidding her right now, Robin starts to rummage again, eventually coming back out with a t-shirt for a band that Steve only knows because he has asked Robin to turn their music down on several occasions. And before he can say anything Robin is please hold-ing him and shouting down the hall for Eddie.

“What?”

“Steve has a date with a cool girl.”

“Cool girl, what cool girl?”

“Soc major, with the boots.”A little flurry of activity, socked feet slipping down the hall and Eddie hanging off the doorframe of his room, Steve not able to get a word in edgewise between their rapid fire volley.

“No, really? Little different for you, man, isn’t it?”

“I–”

“We need your closet, excuse us.” Robin on the warpath and Eddie grinning big, and Steve somewhere in the middle.

“How’d this happen?”

“She–”

“They were talking about art.” Robin reappearing with a long-sleeved thermal gripped in her other hand, eyebrows waggling.

“Steven? Our Steven? Talking about art? Well, well, well.” If he just had time he’d say something back to Eddie about how he got kicked out of the art museum last weekend for making quacking noises every time the security guard took a step, but Robin is already ushering him back down the hall, into his room this time, shoving the bundle of clothes into his chest and slamming the door shut on her way out.

Eddie is anemic and tends to eat breakfast when the sun is going down, and Robin is Robin, so it’s a tight fit getting the thermal on, followed by the t-shirt. But looking in the mirror, he thinks he likes it, gives an experimental and not at all vain flex of his arms that makes the sleeves of the tshirt roll back up toward the round of his shoulders and yeah, he likes that. And when he steps out of his room, Robin and Eddie already hovering and humming their approval, that warmth starts to build and bloom all over again.

And the rest is a little hazy from there. Robin offers him two refrigerator-chilled potstickers from last night’s dinner, something about fuel for your evening, Stevening, while Eddie pours himself a bowl of corn pops and prattles about something he learned in his music theory class, dissonance and skipped beats, and Steve can understand the feeling. And then they’re both kicking him out with an all too solemn godspeed, soldier. Eddie even salutes him.

Andy lives on the opposite side of campus in a cropping of apartments in a building that looks kind of like a castle, old brownstone and wrought iron. She buzzes him up, opens the door in a thin turtleneck and jeans, her head tilting and her lip pouting, just a little.

“Where’d the polo shirt go?”

“I changed.” Excellent, he thinks, how astute of him. She smiles.

“I can see. I wouldn’t have pegged you as a Bikini Kill fan though.” He’s trying to focus on her as she leads him deeper into her apartment, though his eyes still wander. Old wood flooring that’s barely visible underneath the thick swaths of patterned rugs. A crushed velvet, lime green sofa sitting in front of a fireplace that’s packed full with books. The kitchen is tucked into a corner, a little patch of black and white linoleum, old appliances. She’s pouring wine at the counter with her foot pressed into her other calf in a sort of shortened tree pose, and she’s asking him if he likes red, and he nods, all the while thinking to himself that he hasn’t consumed enough wine that doesn’t come in boxes to really care what color it is.

They sit down on the lime green sofa, her arm draped over the back of it, fingers tipped toward him. And he’s trying not to be such a dweeb about it, really, he’s not, but it only takes a few bashful glances to know that she very much is not wearing a bra. And he likes that, likes that a lot. Likes the soft curve and fold of her stomach with the way she’s turned toward him, the stretch of her jeans at her hips, her thighs, and his mouth goes dry around a gulp of wine when he starts to think about that painting again, and he starts to think about her, and he starts to think about her and the painting together. He starts to wonder, to wonder, to wonder what similarities he might find between the two.

There’s conversation, quiet and meandering and murmuring, their mouths staining dark and rosy from the wine, bodies turning warm and pliant and inching closer, closer, closer. And it all starts to melt, empty glasses set aside and her hand slipping into the back of his hair and she’s going to be the one in control, isn’t she? Fine by him, lax and languid in her hands, letting her tilt his face toward her. The first kiss is surprisingly sweet, just a peck to the corner of his mouth that makes him breathe hard through his nose in a petty huff of anticipation. She grins, lets the next one take its time, a little deeper, a little more heat, open mouth against open mouth, and he groans when her tongue slips behind his teeth.

This would be enough, he thinks. This time, at least. Her settling into his lap, little pants of breath between the wet snap of lips and spit and tongues. His hands squeeze at her thighs, coaxing a skittering sound from her throat when he reaches back and cups her ass, fingers splayed and pressing petulant. He’s going to feel her fingers in his scalp for a few days, the little hurts, little pulls. The next time she pulls away she presses her hand into his chest to keep him at bay, even as he tilts his chin up, feeling young in his eagerness as she smiles wide-eyed at him.

“Hi.”

“Hi.” Both of them whispering, and when they both realize they don’t know why they’re whispering, both of them giggling, getting away with something when she pulls him up off the couch and into her bedroom.

“Why is this shirt so tight?” She huffs it out with the tshirt halfway rucked up his torso, his hair falling in his face as he curls over trying to help her get it off, both of them breathing out a laugh when the fabric finally is up and over and off of him.

“Oh baby, your hair.” He likes baby, baby feels good, feels like another warm bloom in his chest, his smile turning sheepish when she reaches both hands into his hair, shaking it out at the roots before smoothing it back for him. He chases after her hand, manages to press a kiss to her palm before she’s reaching for the hem of his, Eddie’s, thermal. It comes off easier, quieter, her eyes softening as she takes in his bare chest, catching him off guard when she ducks her head down to press a kiss to the dip that connects the lines of his collar bone, there and gone, little sweetness, little warmth as she steps back and grins.

“Do you wanna lay down for me?” Not even a thought, just ligament and muscle moving, some sort of game dancing between their eyes as he settles back on his elbows against the dark fabric of her duvet. He watches the fine flicker of her fingers make deft work of the buttons of her jeans. An absent-minded thing, the heel of his palm pressed to the ache, to the heat. He’s already hard, already smearing warm against the front of his boxers watching her step out of her jeans.

“Oh fuck, honey.” A little pained, the sweet prickle of agony, of being right. A vision somewhere between obscenity and divinity, he thinks, though that would be playing into the madonna-whore complex their professor was lecturing about last week. He doesn’t care, doesn’t care about much of anything except continuing to look at Andy, the soft divot at her waist where her white cotton thong settles against the soft curve of skin, and the dark bloom of curls along the sides of the material where her thighs touch. He was right, and now he’s doomed.

She smiles, finger hooking in the hem of her shirt and pulling it up just a little, exposing the sweet dip and swell of her stomach, and suddenly he’s not so interested in just laying back any more. Greedy, he feels the slick, desperate curl of it in his gut. Greedy when he shuffles up onto his knees and crawls to the end of the bed. Greedy when his hands curl at the fat of her hips and he pulls her in closer so he can press the open heat of his mouth just above her navel, soft and warm and he wants more of it, of her. She sighs, a long, languid sound that he wants to hear more of, dipping his head down to mouth at the jut of her hip, dampening the fabric slung taut there.

Limbs tangled with limbs, some of it graceless, awkward, some of it perfect motion. She lays out like a painting, like the painting, for him, her turtleneck curled up around her sternum so he can palm a handful of her breast, settling down between her thighs and wasting no time in dragging his tongue through her cunt.

She wasn’t wrong about the trends. Hairless bodies, smooth bodies, flinchingly pristine bodies. And that’s fine, he thinks, been with plenty of bodies like that, made his body like that for a while too. But he likes this, likes her, the sense and sate of it, the scent of it, even if it makes him a pervert, lapping at her while he curls two fingers inside her. And somewhere in the simpering sear of it, his hips have started to jerk and stutter into the mattress beneath him, picking up a stilted speed when she starts to moan, clipped sounds and his name and he wants it and he wants it and he wants it so bad. She comes with a long sigh that cracks high into a whine, her thighs tensing and slackening around his face. And he feels a warmth of his own, relief of his own, though the reality of what he did turns him sheepish, pressing a bashful smile into the swell of her inner thigh.

“Did you?” Her words crackle breathless with her grin, peering down at him from behind her forearm and he can barely look at her, turning his face back into her skin, letting his teeth graze there a little mean.

“Maybe, shut up.” Her laugh bursts and bubbles up, her head tossed back, eyes crinkled shut as he crawls up and up and up, not evening minding the uncomfortable cooling in his jeans when he presses a sloppy kiss to her mouth, turning her laugh into a satisfied hum.

“Hmm, kinda feminist of you coming in your jeans just from eating me out.” Speechless, and he kind of likes it, huffing out a breathless laugh as he watches the cartoonish jump of her eyebrows. He presses a kiss between them, sweet and simple, warm all over when he pulls back to find her smiling at him.

“I like you, a lot.” That whispering thing again, a little shy, a little young, and a little uncertain. But there’s no need for it, not when she tilts her chin up and presses a kiss to his cheek, the round of it, the warmth of it.

“I like you too, Steve.”

#steve harrington #steve harrington smut #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington fandom #steve harrington ficlet #steve harrington au

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wroteclassicaly · 1 year

Note

Okay… um…. Back here again with more kink hour thoughts.

this time it’s Steddie x Reader…

Imagine using the custom piece from your pegging fic… on Eddie as he’s taking Steve in his mouth 🙈

You tryna get me back on my bullshit, huh? Well… I miss my Eddie, so I can definitely oblige. 😈

Warnings: Language, anal sex, threesome, oral sex (m receiving), degradation kink, Eddie gets degraded, spanking, use of sex toy/harness, strap on, pegging Eddie, sub!Eddie, dom!reader and dom!Steve, established relationship, and overall NSFW content!

You’ll never be able to get over how they can both take it so well, your guys also varying in intensity on switching things up, maintaining or giving over control. Steve has his subby moments, ones you all like to relieve frequently. And then there’s Eddie… Fuck, just thinking about his outer limits subspace — it gets you soaked and Steve rock hard. Eddie Munson is one of the most vocal human beings that you’ve ever met, and that extends to the bedroom portion of your lives.

He isn’t afraid to let himself go and feel every single thing that you and Steve are doing to him, and that he’s also doing to you both. It’s one of the many reasons that Eddie Munson makes for the perfect sub, sometimes even going above and beyond your headspace during that playtime. Tonight was a no brainer, falling into this with a graceful ease, a domineering boyfriend with a old crown back on his head, the other with big doe eyes, begging to be fucked stupid and senseless. You knew everyone’s shared vibes before you even vocalized getting your favorite toy out.

You were using the strap, and you were using it on Eddie.

“So you wanna be stuffed full of her and me, Munson?” Steve had spouted off, hands on his naked hips, staring Eddie down like pitiful prey.

“He asked you a question, little boy! You gonna answer or sit there looking pathetic and empty headed?” You had came back with.

“F-fuck — yes! Do whatever you fucking want with me, m’ yours —“ Steve had grabbed his jaw with a pinching grip, cutting Ed’s sentence off with his own reply. “We know you’re ours, you fucking slut… Didn’t ask you that, now did we?” You’d never seen Eddie shake his head so fast, his cock painfully hard.

“I dunno, babe. His mouth is awfully full of explicit language tonight. I think he definitely needs it gagged. The longer we wait, the worse it’s going to be… on all of us.”

The toy is as close to Steve’s actual girth and length as you could manage, the other that mirrored Eddie’s cock, it lays in the drawer. If you’re a good girl, then you plan on putting that in Steve’s ass by nightfall, effectively rendering them both into boneless, limping messes. You’d smoke a stolen cigarette or cigar, combing through their hair as they would lay in your lap, and —

“Baby? You alive back there, you’re not giving it to me.” Eddie smarts off, interrupting your dazed daydreams, as big of a brat as he is submissive. Probably bigger.

Steve’s obliterated irises widen, a smirk on his lips as he pauses, fisting his slick cock by Eddie’s mouth. “You’re about to get what you want, man. I think more than you bargained for, actually.”

“Good. About time, because I — JESUS CHRIST!” You give him a thrust so hard that your hips collide with his ass, ramming forward, and Steve is ready to cut him off by pressing his fat cock right into Eddie’s mouth.

Back and forth, back and forth…

Eddie’s pick chain sways into the movement, and you grip his curly tresses, pulling him up and back into you, reaching around to squeeze his base. “If you don’t shut your mouth “— you let your hand drift down over his swollen head, sticky with translucent cream, and you swipe. “— I will let Steve cum in your throat, and then I’ll sit on your face. But you won’t be allowed to have anything, understand? Your poor, useless cock will ache all night, and you won’t be able to touch, yeah?”

He remains quiet, but nods. Steve smirking, neither prepared for you next action. Looking at the swell of Eddie’s cheeks, you pull them apart to see his hole stretched around the silicone, and you can’t stop your palm from cracking down on his skin, watching it immediately turn red into the rebounding jiggle. Steve’s cock (which had returned to Eddie’s mouth) jumps on his tongue, and Eddie whimpers around it, swallowing, making him take Steve in deeper.

“Dammit. Fuck.” Steve looks at you with a boasting pride. You’re out of breath, nipples hard, cunt soaking through the harness. You whack your hand over Eddie’s other cheek, his cock blurting out more pre-come, soaking the bedsheets below.

“Damn,” Steve starts, raising an amused, sweat slicked brow, at an out of it and teary eyed Eddie, “she’s gonna beat your cute ass red, honey.”

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luxeavenger · 2 years

Text

More?

Rating: Explicit (18+ only)

Paring: Backstage Pass!Bucky x Backstage Pass!Steve x reader

Words: 1204

Warnings: Double penetration one hole, anal sex, double anal penetration, anal fingering, pegging, sex toys, praise kink, orgasm control

NB: The 2 dicks/1 hole fic won the poll. I think a lot of people who voted for it thought it was going to be 2 dicks/1 of princess's holes. Which was incorrect. I hope you aren't disappointed

If you like it, please give it a reblog! It's how other people find me!

Backstage Pass Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Buy me a coffee: Ko-fi (or a new tattoo)

Bucky’s riding your dick like it was made just for him, the purple silicone so deep inside of him, he’s got his hand on his stomach so he can feel it in his guts.

“Being so good for me, Buck,” you hum.

Even though he’s doing the lion’s share of the work, you’re the one who's out of breath. Watching the way his muscled torso and thick thighs tirelessly work to get both of you off takes your breath away. The filthy way he moans when your dick nudges against his palm from the inside… well that’s so fucking hot you could get off on that all by itself.

Bucky made sure you were getting yours too. Like the goddamned gentleman that he is, he shoved a thick dildo into your pussy before he buckled you into your cock harness. Your thighs are a sloppy mess from how many times he’d already made you come just from riding your dick.

You murmur soft praise, making him moan and work himself over your cock even faster. You smooth your hands up his thighs, the corded muscle rhythmically expanding and contracting under your palm, he whines when you drag your nails over his tattooed skin, creating trails of fire from his hips down to his knees.

“So sensitive,” you whisper. You roll your hips, and his answering curse sends goosebumps racing over your skin.

“Princess, please,” he whimpers.

“What do you need, babe?” You slip a hand around his cock, and drag it up the length of his shaft.

He drops down onto your dick with a groan. You’re as deep inside of him as you can possibly be right now, and he’s grinding his ass against you like he can’t get enough of you. “Need to come,” he pleads.

With an indulgent smile, you answer, “Well you have been averygood boy,” he gives a strangled sob, “so I think you’ve earned it.”

He folds down over your body, and rolls his hips until he comes with a guttural grunt. You tug at his PA piercing, drawing out his orgasm, until he’s panting fuckfuckfuck in your ear.

Steve keeps Bucky’s body pinned against yours with a broad hand on his spine, stroking down Bucky’s flanks, while you tug at his hair until he’s done cursing.

The first thing Bucky says when he picks his head up off of your shoulder is, “More.”

You chuckle, “More?”

Bucky nods vigorously, “More.”

“Hang on, Buck,” Steve shushes him. Two of Steve’s slick fingers push past Bucky’s rim so he can get more lube in him, tugging at the taut muscle, spreading him wider while you start fucking up into him again.

He pushes back with an irritable noise, “I said more.”

Steve smacks Bucky’s ass hard, admonishing him for being impatient, then leans forward, so he’s bridging Bucky’s back. He pulls his fingers out, hand cracking down onto Bucky’s ass again when he whines at Steve about being so empty.

The noise Bucky makes when Steve starts pushing his cock in next to yours is desperate, and weighty with need. Steve has to clamp a hand around the scruff of Bucky’s neck to stop him from shoving himself back onto both dicks.

“Patience,” he grits out through clenched teeth.

“I can’t,” Bucky whispers, but manages to stay as still as he can with two cocks in his ass.

“Don’t wanna hurt you.”

“I like it,” Bucky bargains.

“I know,” Steve chides. “Doesn’t matter though, I said slow, so shut up and be still.”

You wrap your arms around his chest, and coo soft praise at him while his body trembles from the effort it takes to not impale himself on the two dicks inside of him.

You ask softly, “Does that feel good, Buck?”

His head hangs down next to your face, and his long hair tickles your cheek when he nods. You think that’ll be it, but he hiccups softly, “Feels amazing.”

“Good,” you hum, and start nibbling along his shoulder.

“Stevie, please.”

“What’s up, Buck?”

“Please fuck me.”

With his overabundance of caution satisfied, and his dick dripping in Bucky’s guts, Steve finally rocks his hips, drawing his cock out of Bucky, giving him exactly what he asked for.

Bucky keeps trying to move on his own, but Steve pushes him against you, and growls that he better behave or he’d have to make do with only one dick in his ass. It’s a dire enough threat that Bucky stills immediately.

“Princess,” he whimpers. “I need to come. Can I come?”

You slip a hand between your bodies to get your hand on his cock. You twist your fist around the head, tugging at his piercing until he sobs, repeating the question again.

“God, I need to come.Please, princess, can I?”

You grab a handful of his hair, pulling his ear against your mouth to whisper, “Let me hear how good we make you feel. Be a good boy and come for me.”

He lets go with a loud moan so pornographic it makes your pussy throb. Steve grunts when Bucky’s hole clenches around the cocks stuffed in it. You keep your hand wrapped around the head of his dick, and hot come spills over your fingers when he lets go for you.

Little involuntary jerks and tremors quake through his body until he sags on top of you with relief. Even robbed of his faculties like this, he has the presence of mind not to put his full weight on top of you. It’s like having a weighted blanket over you, one that pants against your neck, murmuring thank you thank you thank you over and over.

Steve makes an adjustment to his hips, and pushes your legs higher, and Bucky comes again, with an incoherent sound of ecstasy. The change of angle makes the dildo inside of you rub perfectly against your sweet spot, and you come right along with him. Panting and moaning as more slick gushes out of you around the strap-on harness.

The crowded feeling of Bucky’s stuffed asshole fluttering weakly around his cock pushes Steve over the edge, and he ruts into Bucky hard, until little runnels of his come drip out of Bucky, and slip down the shaft of your purple silicone dick.

Everyone sits dazed for a few minutes. Steve’s stretched over the jumble of your bodies, bracing himself on one of the bunk’s shelves while his cock softens and slips out of Bucky. Bucky clings to you, arms wrapped around you tightly, cradling your head in his hands while he deliriously sings love songs in the humid air between your shoulder and neck. And you desperately try to catch your breath, nosing along Bucky’s shoulders, leaving tiny little pecks here and there, quietly humming along with the song he sings.

Once everyone is more or less recovered, Steve tries to haul Bucky off of you to clean everyone up, only to be met with staunch resistance, Bucky’s body hardly moves at all when Steve tugs on his hips. Instead, Bucky’s arms squeeze you tighter, and he clamps himself to your waist with his powerful thighs.

“Princess,” Bucky sighs in your ear, “can we go again?”

Thanks for reading! Please remember artists rely on readers like you to hit that "reblog" button. For you - it's free. For us - it's worth everything.

The dripping slime from my signature is by Rivermakes on DeviantArt, and was free to use with credit.

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har-rison-s · 8 months

Text

your good will: 38

family meeting

a/n: hiii, a big milestone chapter finally here. i hope i get to finishing this story sooner. i have less than 3 weeks left in my home country, then i'm moving away and i kinda wanna incorporate all those feelings into this story, yk? like method acting, only method writing :D happy reading!

masterlist

series masterlist

stranger things masterlist

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word count: 5.3k

characters in this chapter: maggie byers (oc), will byers, joyce byers, jonathan byers, el / jane hopper

warnings: angst, comfort, i suck at endings

gif credit goes to owner!

Maggie is sure she's only seen her mother smoke this many cigarettes when Will went missing. Well, alright, the whole year between November 1983 and November 1984 was a good year for Camel cigarette sales in Hawkins because of Joyce. Surely she's not as anxious now as she was then, this - telling your kids they're moving away from their hometown - is a lot less stressful than having a missing kid is. But her hands are steady, so that's a good sign, at least.

Sitting beside her mom at the table, Maggie can feel how much her mood differs from the rest of the kids. Jonathan is a little antsy because of the job search, Will and Eleven are just waiting for Joyce to tell them whatever it is she brought them together for, they're a little confused. Maggie's just impatient to get this over and done with already.

“Okay, guys, here goes,” Joyce finally says, making everyone straighten their backs for the millionth time this morning. It's been a while since Joyce sat them all down to tell them the news, there have been many attempts to say it nice and easy, “I–”

“Is this about the house?” Jonathan asks, raising his head from its usual low hanging point. Everyone looks to him. “I saw an unpublished flier in the ads room while I was still working at the Post.”

Maggie didn't know that Joyce had already marketed the house, she looks at her mom. Joyce sighs and takes another puff from her cigarette. She has been found out. “Well, that's an easy way to start this,” she says and huffs, “yes, I put the house up for sale. Our house.” She says and looks her kids over, Maggie included, so that there's no suspicion of her knowing before the rest of them find out. It's not exactly good to hide something like that from the rest of your family.

There's no reaction from the kids yet, only blank stares and raised eyebrows. Except for Jonathan's furrowed brow. Maggie scratches the back of her head. No one says anything. Joyce takes that as a sign to continue.

“I've been… thinking about it since last year,” she admits, “since we got that thing out of Will.” Joyce says and looks at her youngest. Will hugs an arm around himself. “How so many shitty things have happened in this house,” she continues. The man in the wall with no face, Will going missing at home. Fights with Lonnie. Billy Hargrove and Steve having a fight, smashing up some kitchen cutlery in their way. A demogorgon actually being in this house, “so many shitty things have happened to us here, especially in the last few years.” Joyce shakes her head. “I just… I just think we need a fresh start. Somewhere new, where nobody knows us, where nothing like this happens. And of course, things can happen to you anywhere, because not in a million years would I have expected for things like what we've been through to happen in a small town like this! It's crazy.” She takes a drag of her cigarette and shakes her head.

“But…” Will gets the first word in, “but we grew up here. I have friends here, I–I… this is my home.” He tells his mom, looking right at her. The glassy look in his eyes and the slight tremble of his lips make Maggie's heart ache. “Our home,” Will adds, searching his mother's eyes for understanding. And there's plenty of it there, it's just that determination wins over it, “mom.” He whispers the word. Tears are bound to overflow any second.

Joyce nods in response without saying a word. The tension in the room could be cut with an axe. Maggie looks everyone over, she sees confusion on everyone's faces, disagreement in her brothers' eyes. El has a deeply furrowed brow, Jonathan's sporting a less serious one. “I know,” Joyce finally says in a quieter voice, “I know. It's my home, too. I watched you guys grow up here.” She breathes a deep sigh. “Everything, and I mean everything has happened to us here.” Joyce shakes her head. “Living in a new place would be… refreshing, I don't know. A restart option.”

“Mom, it's not like our current lives have stopped for us,” Jonathan argues back, “all three of us still have school, and El should go to school, too, right?” He looks at the others for back-up. Maggie and Will shrug. “Maggie and me have relationships here, you know. It's not like life's stopped for all of us just because it's stopped for you.” Maggie raises her eyebrows at this statement.

He's not wrong, but he could have framed it differently. Nicer, less mean. Joyce looks at him, aghast. “Jonathan…” she whispers, “I just want things to be normal again. I want us to live a normal life.”

Jonathan grins in a not-amused way and bites back a sinister chuckle. “Mom, I'm sorry, but that's just… never happening,” he tells her with a shake of his head, “ever. The very reason you want us to move in the first place is not normal. Interdimensional monsters and mad scientists. It's not something you can just run away from and forget.” That's also true. “Will and El still have nightmares. They're still tied to everything, even if something like that never happens again.”

“He's right, mom,” Maggie says with a nod. Joyce feels a little betrayed by the only person she'd expected to take her side in this, even though they've had their arguments over this exact topic before.

“It's not something we can get away from,” Will adds on, “me and El…” he looks at the girl, “we can't just forget it.”

“Yeah, but it will be totally different from here,” Joyce argues back, “there's places and things here that remind you of everything that's happened to you, but there's not gonna be any to where we move!” She explains. Will and Jonathan huff, nearly in unison. “It will be… moving on. For all of us.”

“Where are we going, exactly?” Maggie asks the question she hopes is neutral to ease the tension a little bit. Her mom turns her head to look at her.

“I'd really love to move to Maine,” Joyce says and lights another cigarette, “but it's actually Owens' call. He'll know where the best place for us is.” She takes a drag from the new cigarette and looks the kids over. Silent, but tense. “Bob had a house in Maine, his parents' house. But we'll have to see. Owens is visiting today or tomorrow, don't know exactly.”

Maggie sighs. Will sleazes back into his chair. “So that's it,” he says, “we're just moving because you decided. We have no say in it.”

Joyce looks at her youngest. “I'm not looking to argue with any of you. This is a decision I've made that's best for all of us.” Joyce glances at El, who hasn't said a single word yet. “Owens suggested it, too. For El's safety from the government and everything.” She shrugs.

“I think it will be safe,” El speaks up finally, a gentle nod swaying her head in agreement to Joyce, “the new place. Fresh start.” She looks at Joyce, and the woman squeezes her hand, shooting El a quick smile. Thanks for the support.

“And how soon will we be leaving?” Maggie asks in a near whisper, dreading the answer. If mom has talked this over with Owens, it means there's been more concrete talk or where and when. Joyce shrugs.

“The next few months,” she guesses, “but it's hard to tell now. It can't be right away, because that would be too suspicious. Would attract eyes we don't want on us.” Joyce sighs. “No later than October, I bet.” She looks her kids over again. Will rolls his eyes, Maggie looks at her fidgeting hands in her lap. She can tell no one except herself is happy with this news. “I promise it will be good for us, guys. Yes, also hard, but when have things ever been easy for us?” She means this for her flesh and blood more, though she knows El can more than agree with her on that. “You can get as mad at me as you want, but it's not going to change anything. Until you know stuff better than me, I know what's best for you, okay? And you bet your butts I'm gonna act on it.” She tells everyone. Will shakes his head again, disapproving of all of this completely. Classic teenager rebellion. Maggie and Jonathan are hardly teenagers anymore, but they're on the same stand as Will. “I just wanna…” Joyce sighs, exasperated, “I just wanna move on. Not linger where everything that's happened to us is all around us, right here, in every inch of this town. It's weighing me down, and can't be healthy for you guys, either.”

Maggie sighs. She knows there's no changing mom's mind, but she still disapproves of this decision. She'd rather stay here with Steve, work and finish school, than move to a completely strange place that she'll once again have trouble fitting into. She hardly fit into Hawkins, and her brothers hardly fit, too. The last year and a half haven't been helping with that, either. “Yeah, well, running away isn't exactly moving on, mom,” Jonathan finally says and leaves the kitchen with quick pace. Now Joyce sighs and hides her face in her hands. She's tried her best to explain herself and make the situation better for everyone, but evidently, it's not working. And she hoped Jonathan would have a more mature response to this decision. She expected better from her first child, but she doesn't realize how this makes him feel, not really.

It's different for Joyce here than it is for her kids. All three of them still have school to finish in the next few years, and leaving in October means they'd be changing schools in the middle of the semester, which messes with their heads. Everything that's happened to them over the last two years already throws their focus off in school, and now a big move wouldn't exactly help, either. All that Joyce would lose leaving here is a job, and she can easily find another one in the place they move to. Changing jobs isn't as disorienting as changing schools.

Will has friends here that he's grown up with since kindergarten. He's known them all his life. Jonathan is with Nancy, and Maggie is with Steve. Joyce lost Bob last year, and Hopper this year. The few friends she has here aren't that close friends with her, really, they're not real friends. Hopper was a real friend. She's not exactly sure what Murray could classify as, and he doesn't live in Hawkins, anyway. Joyce doesn't have as much here to leave as her kids do.

She doesn't realize that, because she's lost everything she could lose already, except her children. She's also forgot how defensive teenagers can be in their reactions and feelings, she's forgot how it feels to be a teenager. While going through tough times, friends and other forms of relationships are what ground a person, what can help them get through those times. And a person often gets attached to anything that helps. Joyce has lost those kinds of people, but her kids still have them. She can't just pretend they're not there and make her kids forget about them.

Jonathan leaves the house, disrupting the tense silence with slamming the door shut. Everyone hears him powering up his car and leaving in less than a minute. Joyce really hoped he'd take the news better than he did. “All right, I have to get to work,” Joyce says, getting up from the kitchen table with her pack of cigarettes in hand. She kisses Maggie's forehead, and walks over to Will to do the same, but there's some reluctance from her son at first. It saddens her, but she guesses she deserves that. Making Will's decisions for him has never really been productive. She squeezes his shoulder just a little tighter than usual, “have a good day, guys,” Joyce embraces El before leaving the kitchen, “I'll see you later.” She says quietly, grabbing her keys and then leaving through the front door like Jonathan did a few minutes ago, though quieter than he did.

Will sighs once mom has left and shakes his head. “I really don't wanna leave,” he says and leans onto the kitchen table, arms crossed under his chin, “I have… everything here.” Maggie nods. El sits in silence, just listening to the Byers siblings. She understands them, and she understands Joyce, and agrees with her more. But she understands it can be troubling to have such big changes one after the other in their lives, she understands the meaning of this place to Maggie, Will and Jonathan.

“Me too,” Maggie says quietly and offers her brother a quick half-smile. She leans on the table as well, one hand under her chin and the other resting on Will's arm, offering a comforting touch, “remember when Owens came by recently?” She asks her brother, and he nods, intrigued. “Well, I heard mom talking to him about adoption papers for El,” Maggie looks at the younger girl with a smile, “you will legally be our sister.” She tells her.

The small news make El smile from ear to ear, a smile only Max had the honor to see recently. She nearly sheds a tear, but only nearly. Maggie and Will look at her with big smiles. “Big sister,” El says to Maggie, and she nods, chuckling quietly afterwards.

“Come here,” Maggie urges the younger girl, stretching an arm out to her, and Eleven listens, coming to sit in Maggie's lap, both girls embracing each other, “two sisters with two brothers.” Maggie says, looking at Will, who is now holding her hand on the table. “I really don't wanna leave home, either,” Maggie says in a deep breath, “but staying here can't be safe for El. I mean, there were FBI agents crawling in Hawkins last year, thank God hopper hid El from the rest of us.” She admits. “Otherwise we'd all be interrogated or something, and not in pretty ways.”

El nods. “And the bad men,” she says. Maggie agrees with a nudge of her head. Even though the lab has been empty since winter, she's had doubts whether they're really gone. Gone forever.

“That's true,” Will says, seemingly having no other choice but to agree with them, “I don't think you could really go to school here,” he tells El, “too many people have seen you somehow.” Eleven nods, knowing that. Too many people. Too much exposure. Rumors and theories would start to spread, leading to news and investigations. Will sighs again. “Mom's probably right.” He says in defeat. Maggie chuckles. “And she would never let half of us stay here and the other half to move away, she'd never allow that.”

Maggie shakes her head. “Never in a million years,” she agrees. “I can’t split up my family” echoes in her mind, “that would be us splitting up, and she would never let that happen.”

“Yeah,” Will breathes quietly, defeat in the air between them again, “I guess she's… right. I don't think she understands how we're feeling about this.” He says and huffs, his eyes switching between El and Maggie. His sister nods and tucks her head under El's chin, the two of them embracing closer.

“Jonathan could have said it nicer, but he was right. She doesn't have much left here, you know. No Bob, no Hopper.” Maggie says quietly. “I think he was kinda her last tie to this place. Home.” Her last chance at having a normal life. “And she's right in that… so much has happened to us here. This place just reeks of all the… trauma that's happened to us.” Maggie sighs. “I guess she can't take it anymore. I don't blame her. And she wants you guys to get better.”

Will nods, thinking how wise his sister always is. If she played D&D, she'd have to take his mantel and be Maggie the Wise. Sometimes, like this moment for example, he's overcome with how thankful he is to have someone like her. The closest women in his life - his mom and sister - are both smart, strong, always give the right advice, have kind hearts and are forgiving (though that's not always healthy for them), and are just little miracles that someone in creation dealt Will to have and cherish. And he does cherish them.

The Byers siblings sit in silence, El taking in what the siblings-by-blood are saying and feeling, seeing from their point of view in this situation. Will lays on the table, arms crossed under his head, thinking about this big change in their lives. He's had a couple of those already, and none of them have exactly been 100% pleasant. Maybe this move will be at least 90% better than it will be for the worst. Will hopes so. He's so tired of receiving bad news, tired of bad things happening to him and his family.

Maggie's pondering about what house Owens will be offering them, and if they really can put the move off until October. That's a good amount of time to fit in anything she wants to do until they're gone. Her thoughts travel to their plan for the day, and she realizes they have none. Maybe Owens coming by, but Maggie pegs him for a morning type of person, so he'll probably be here tomorrow. She doesn't wanna bother Steve again - though, of course, she knows he wouldn't call that bothering and would be happy to see her at any time of day - and she's wanted to bring the younger siblings together, anyway.

“You guys wanna rent a movie, maybe?” Maggie suggests to the younger ones, catching their attention. “We could make popcorn or buy candy and watch something fun.”

“You don't have any plans for the day?” Will asks, and Maggie shakes her head with a gentle smile on her lips, looking at her brother. “Not even with Steeeeeve?” He turns his head at Maggie playfully and says Steve's name in a sing-song voice that sounds more like a whine, not a celebratory, romantic mention. Maggie chuckles, and even El cracks a smile, loving the dynamic between Will and his sister.

“No, not even with Schteve,” Maggie tells Will and pushes at his shoulder a bit, teasing him back in her own way. Will smiles and nods, “what would you guys wanna watch?”

“Whatever,” Will says with a shrug and leans back in his chair, “what do you like, El?” He looks at his step-sister-to-be. El rests her head atop Maggie's and lets out a long sigh.

“Something funny,” she says.

“Maybe let's just go to the video store and we'll see what's there, huh? Whatever catches your eye,” Maggie suggests to El, looking up at her, and the younger girl nods. Maggie checks with Will with a glance, and Will agrees with a nod, too, “okay, let's change and go. We'll take our bikes.” She says and El gets off her lap as if on cue. “Wait, El, do you know how to ride a bike?” She asks.

El looks a little puzzled. She's used to moving objects, not using them really. She thinks how hard can it be? But then gets anxious. She's less sure of herself now that she's out of her powers. She hasn't really tried practicing in the last few days, and Max said to give it time, but it hasn't left her mind. Can she do anything at all if she doesn't have her powers? Maggie notices her growing nervous, and shakes her head with an assuring smile.

“It's okay, we can teach you. You can sit on the back of my bike today,” Maggie tells her, and El nods with a small smile on her lips. She's so glad there's no rush and no pressure. She's used to getting that from people around her so much that it's become a permanent feeling of pressure and expectations. El is glad the Byers are different from the people she's used to being around.

She enjoys that Will asks her personal questions without it being like an interrogation, or an interview. She likes that she can feel he asks her stuff and shares his own thoughts because he wants to know about her, not because he wants something from her. Like if she likes scary movies - which she doesn't, well only ghost movies and thrillers, because the ones with paranormal stuff and monsters remind her too much of the Lab, and of everyone's perception of her. A monster. Or if she likes any sort of music, which she does - Jim Croce reminds her of Hopper and good memories, and Madonna reminds her of Max and good memories with her.

El doesn't know it yet, but the Byers - especially Maggie and Will - bring her such a feeling of normalcy, a reassuring feeling of being a person rather than a subject, and in a family, sibling kind-of way. They're her friends, but also more than that. Max is her friend, like a sister. Maggie is, too. But Mike was a friend, and then a boyfriend. And now… she doesn't really know what he is. But with these people, who are as close to her as Mike is, it feels kind of easier, with less expectations.

There's no sense of doing anything wrong in their eyes, El feels like she could never do wrong in their house and that she's not under any pressure. In expressing feelings and thoughts in the Byers house there is no hesitation, and no fear. Maggie and the others, but Maggie especially, has made her feel so safe and secure. None of them really expect anything from her in any sense, and that eases El by a lot. They're really family to her. They've become that in a short time, though El knows it's gonna last forever. At least she hopes so. She has a good feeling about this.

And what if they are leaving their home? El understands that can be tough - Hawkins has been her home for the last almost-two years, yet she never really felt like she belonged, or had a right to live here. She can see and will see later how hard it is to leave one's home. Somewhere only you know, a place where you've grown up and had shaping experiences, earned friends and more. Where you took your first steps, said your first words, had your first kiss, screwed up something for the first time, were scared for the first time.

But at least they'll be doing it all together. None of them will be alone, like Will was in the Upside Down, like El wandering the woods after escaping the Lab, like Joyce believing Will was still alive and doing everything she could to prove it, like Jonathan dealing with his brother's disappearance in the same time as being bullied at school and by his father, like Maggie dealing with Hopper and his daughter's death, and its toll on the poor man. The Byers and El are going to experience moving to a different town, different house all together.

It makes El feel like she finally belongs somewhere. Like she has a safety pillow to fall onto. Like she has a home.

She used to watch movies with Hopper at their cabin all the time, and tv shows, too. But El’s never been to a place where you can rent videotapes for movies or shows, so Family Video is like another world for her. She’s sure Hopper had some tapes, too, but he was much more of a television guy, she didn’t really get an offer for him to watch a rented movie or anything.

Family Video is deserted, as the rest of the town is - they’ve lost almost half the population to the Mind-Flayer, so no wonder. But the less people, the more comfortable El feels. Maggie lets her roam the store while she and Will look for one or two fun movies to rent. For now they’ve got Ferris Bueller’s Day Off, they want to find an extra movie just in case it gets boring for either of the three of them.

“Need any recommendations?” That sly voice Maggie could recognise anywhere speaks up from their left. She quickly glances at looming Keith at the end of the aisle, and notices he has that strange smirk of his that tells you he’s up to mischief. She rolls her eyes when she turns her head back to the tapes, and Will holds back a snort.

“No, thanks, we’re just browsing,” Maggie responds as she usually would to anyone else asking. She hopes Keith will take the hint, but she knows him better than that. She doesn’t feel particularly comfortable in his presence, he’s always been creepy and even stalker-ish - both when he was still in school and now, after he’s graduated for more than a year.

“You know, I’ve noticed you coming in here a few times already,” Keith continues the conversation and comes a little closer, while Maggie and Will move further away, nearly in tandem, so the distance between them and Keith would remain the same while moving around, “you like movies a lot, huh?”

Maggie huffs, “I sure do,” she replies flatly and finally finds what she was hoping to. Footloose, 1984, “let’s take this one.” She tells Will, holding the tape up, and Will nods, a smile stretching across his features.

“Perfect, I’d forgot about it.” He says and admires the simple poster on the tape’s cover. “This will be fun.” He tells his sister, and she nods.

“Go get El, and I’ll pay for these,” Maggie says, and Will follows suit. Ah, crap, now she has to pass Keith and also talk to him while she rents the two tapes. She makes her way into the parallel aisle to Keith’s, and holds the two desired tapes up in her hand. Keith nods and quickly makes his way to the cash register, beating Maggie to it first, “I’ll probably return them on Thursday.” She tells him.

“No problem at all,” Keith says and types whatever it is he needs to type into the store’s computer, “I’ll put it in until next Monday, the 22nd.” Maggie nods. Keith makes calculations on a piece of paper, presses buttons into the cash register and gives Maggie a sleazy smile. “That will be twelve bucks.” Maggie raises her eyebrows. “Gave ya a little discount there.”

Maggie chuckles weakly. “I appreciate that, but you didn’t have to,” she says, but pulls out the exact money and lays it on the counter. Now this is getting more awkward than it was before.

“Just come by some more,” Keith urges, taking the money from her, and Maggie gives him an attempt of a smile, “and, by the way, we’re hiring. The fire and everything lost us a couple employees. Plus, we could hang out. Maybe rent a movie ourselves.” He gives Maggie a receipt. Now she’s properly creeped out by him.

“I’ll decline that offer.” Maggie sighs. “I’m with Steve, for your information,” she reminds him, collecting the receipt and putting the tapes in her tote bag. Keith’s face falls to disappointment, Maggie gives El and Will, who are approaching the desk, an awkward smile, “but I’ll think about the job offer. Do I have to hand in my resume or something to come by for an interview?” She braces her tote bag over her shoulder.

“You we’ll take without a resume, just come in some day and I’ll teach ya everything,” Keith answers, and sends Maggie a hint - the disappointment on his face now seeming like only a fleeting feeling, as he proves to still be super bad at taking a hint. Maggie fights back the urge to roll her eyes and just simply nods instead, “enjoy the movies.”

“Thanks,” Maggie says and finally turns her back to Keith, walking with her siblings out of the store. Will gives Keith a good-bye wave as they slip through the door, and laughs as soon as they’re out of there, “Jesus Christ.” Maggie groans under her breath so her general disagreement to Keith as a person wouldn’t look as obvious through the Family Video window. Her grumble makes Will laugh more.

“He is so weird,” he says finally, beginning to explain the context of the situation to Eleven, who feels pretty lost in it, “in every way possible.”

“How have you noticed that?” Maggie inquires. Will shrugs.

“He’s always been kind of a bully to us, he uses the weirdest insults,” he starts counting off, “and he’s been asking Mike for a date with Nancy, and me for a date with you, since we started coming to the Arcade.” Will shakes his head.

Maggie huffs. “He really is creepy, I had kinda forgot about him,” she says, “in school he was weird, weirder than me, and now… He offered me a job here, said I don’t need to have a resume, even asked me out. Jesus…”

“He must be into you,” Will says with a chuckle, and the face his sister gives as a reaction has the chuckle expanding into genuine laughter, “better not tell Steve.”

Now is Maggie’s turn to laugh. “I tell Steve everything, and this wouldn’t bother him,” she says, knowing Steve isn’t one to be intimidated by a guy like Keith, “well, maybe the case of me getting hit on by a creepy dude can bother him, but he won’t get jealous, if that’s what you mean.” He did get jealous of Jonathan pretty fast, but that was a different case.

“Alright, alright,” Will raises his hands up in defense. El comes closer to the siblings.

“What does “getting hit on” mean?” She asks them and glances between the two.

“It’s when someone’s interested in you and they’re trying to ask you on a date or something,” Maggie says, “it’s a little more aggressive than flirting, but mostly they’re the same thing.” She looks at El, and the younger girl nods. She could see the Family Video guy was making Maggie feel uncomfortable. “Steve and Robin could work there, though, now that Scoops is destroyed.”

“And the rest of the mall,” Will says with a sigh, “you could work there, too. Maybe if you and Steve both get jobs there, Keith will take the hint and lay off you.” He suggests.

“Huh,” Maggie says, crossing her arms over her chest as the three of them cross the street, “that’s a good idea. Yeah, maybe I could work there. Save up some money for moving.”

“Yeah,” Will breathes with a heavy air between them that has suddenly breezed in. Maggie didn’t mean to change the topic of conversation to the least comfortable of them all, she knows how her brother feels about it all. She has her own complicated feelings, too. She hugs him close and kisses the top of his head. He gives his sister a faint smile.

They get to their bikes and hop back on, El sitting on the so-called trunk of Maggie’s bike and holding her tote bag for the ride. She takes in the look of deserted Hawkins, the toll of the Mind Flayer’s terror games on the town really coming into view for her as they bike home. Some trees have lost their leaves because of the constant heat, making the center of the town look a bit like a town in the middle of the desert, reminding El of a western she once watched on TV. Hopper would have fit right in, the cowboy-dressing cop that he was. This town really suited him.

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ynscrazylife · 2 years

Note

“stay still, im trying to help you" with Steve Harrington please

Nothing a Bandaid Can’t Fix

Summary: Steve comes to the rescue when the Upside Down threatens Y/N.

Authors Note: This is set in Stranger Things 4, Vol 1 and is inspired by something that happens in Vol 2, but does not contain any spoilers for Vol 2.

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Main Masterlist | Stranger Things Masterlist

PSA: Do NOT copy, steal, translate, plagiarize, republish, etc any of my works on Tumblr or any other platform. Also, do NOT claim any of my works as your own. All of these works are either requests I’ve gotten that people have wanted me to write or original ideas I’ve had for works. If you happen to take inspiration from anything I’ve written and want to write something inspired by that, please a) ask me firstand b) IF I say yes, credit me as inspo in your post by tagging me and link whatever work of mine that inspired you. Thanks.

On the walk to the Wheeler’s house, Y/N and Steve had become the “leaders” for the group, despite the fact that Nancy was the one who lived there. Y/N claimed it was because Nancy, Robin, and Eddie walked slow; but inside she knew she was itching to get there faster. The quicker they got there, the quicker they could leave this dimension and never come back.

“I can’t believe Will survived a whole week in here,” Steve murmured, glancing around.

Y/N nodded in agreement, following his gaze. “He’s a tough kid,” she said. “How are the bandages holding up, by the way? Do you feel better?” She sent a worried glance at her boyfriend, remembering the bats’ attack.

Steve let out a chuckle, patting his side where the bandages were. “I’m flattered you’re worried, hon, but they are doing their job,” he answered cockily, flashing a wink at Y/N.

Y/N rolled her eyes but couldn’t help but add a smile to it. “Sue me for caring, Harring—” she was about to remark, only to cut herself off with a shrill gasp at the feel of something quickly wrapping around her ankle. Glancing down, she had little time to react to the sight before her: a vine squeezing her ankle. Before she could say anything, more vines shot out and latched onto her, slamming her against the nearest tree.

Steve’s eyes widened as he witnessed his girlfriend be restrained against a tree, helpless to do anything about it. “ROBIN! NANCY! EDDIE!” He called out immediately, but only heard his echo in turn. He cursed under his breath, they were too far back to hear him.

“Steve!” Y/N’s croaked cry reminded him that he had to act fast, her pupils as big as a bowling ball’s with the little light the Upside Down had provided.

His first instinct was to pull at the vines with his hands to do anything, but he thought better of it and knew that it would do nothing. Instead, he took a makeshift tool he’d made after the bat attack and began clawing at the vines with it like it was some sort of an axe.

Y/N could only watch, thoughts racing through her head a million times a millisecond. It was the most horrible feeling to be in danger and not be able to do anything about it, but she knew she had to have faith in Steve. He could get her out of this. He would. But—it was becoming difficult to think when every bone in your body was practically being squeezed out of your skin. Y/N let out short gasps as she did her best to breath through it.

However — she couldn’t help but flinch every time Steve’s…whatever tool it was came near her.

“Stay still, I’m trying to help you,” Steve said urgently, grunting as he kept on wacking at the vines. He briefly wondered if the vines were cutting off her oxygen, since she was moving away from the very thing trying to help.

Y/N opened her mouth to response, but only a cough came out in return.

Steve huffed, wacking at the vines even harder. Soon, they began to fall away, and Y/N gathered the strength to try and squirm her way out of danger. Eventually, she was fully freed, and fell to the ground. Steve quickly dropped his tool and hit the ground on his knees, catching her around her waist and pulling her close to his chest.

Y/N couched and took deep breaths, squeezing her eyes shut as she wrapped her arms around Steve’s neck and allowed him to hold her. “That’s it,” he soothed, rubbing her back. “Just breath. Breath for me.”

By the time she caught her breath and was calming down, Nancy, Robin, and Eddie had caught up. “Please don’t tell me you guys were making out or anything,” Eddie whined.

Steve rolled his eyes while Y/N shook her head, rubbing her throat. “The vines got her,” he grunted, before moving to stand up and to help his girlfriend do the same. “C’mon, let’s get to Nancy’s house. We gotta get out of here.”

They continued their walk, Steve and Y/N falling to the back of the group. He had his arm wrapped around her waist, ready to support her and catch her if need be. Y/N didn’t say much, not wanting to worsen her throat, and Steve didn’t mind. He only quietly asked if she was alright from time to time and, when they got to Nancy’s, asked if she needed anything.

Nancy and Robin went upstairs to try and communicate to Dustin and Lucas on the other side, meanwhile Eddie roamed around the house and Steve directed Y/N to rest on the couch. He went to the kitchen in search of anything that could help, gladly rummaging through the Wheeler’s drawers.

“Tea is good,” he said triumphantly, spotting a tea bag and grabbing it. But then — Steve hesitated. “Wait, how the fuck do you make—brew?—tea?”

With a sigh, he threw the tea bag back and opted for hot coffee. After it was done, he grabbed a first aid kit from the closet and made his way back to Y/N, where Eddie was now entertaining her by playing a song.

Steve said a quick hello to Eddie before sitting down next to Y/N, handing her the coffee which she gladly sipped at. While she enjoyed her drink, he began to open up the first aid kit, sifting through the things in there.

He found some bandaids and bandages and started treating the cuts and scrapes on Y/N’s arms and legs, murmuring apologies when she winced. When he was done, he kissed her forehead. “There you go, all better,” he said.

“Nothing a bandaid can’t fix,” Y/N whispered, smiling before leaning forward to kiss Steve.

“Nothing indeed,” Eddie echoed, before gagging at said kiss. “Ugh. Happy people.”

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faofinn · 9 months

Text

7. “You’re a Jerk When You’re Sick”

It was almost dawn when Harrison stumbled in, a mug of ale still in his grasp. Steve had been up waiting for him, but the older man had drifted off at some point. He was woken by Harrison’s clattering, and thought he ended up sprawled across the floor, his mug stayed full.

Steve startled awake, drawing his sword from under his jacket. The tip of the sword pulled cup from Harrison’s reach, much to his annoyance.

"Hey!" He snapped. "That's mine. I paid for it."

"I don't care." Steve replied, his tone harsh. "Get yourself up. I'm not dealing with you tonight. You can sleep in the back room, on that cot, you’re not staying in your bed."

"It's my room!"

"They're my chambers, Harrison. It’s close to dawn, you're only just turning up, and you're in such a state it's ridiculous. Get yourself up."

Harrison raised his head, scowling at him. "Give me my cup."

“No. Get yourself up and go to bed.”

For someone lying in the dirt and definitely in the wrong, Harrison had too much arrogance and defiance. "Not until you give me my ale."

“Absolutely not.”

He sat, swaying. "Then I'll stay here until you do."

Steve shrugged. “Alright then, I’ll see you later.”

"What?" Harrison frowned. That wasn’t how he'd expected it to go. "No, you have to give it back."

“I don’t have to give it back.” He countered.

"I bought it."

“And now you’re in my chambers.” Steve told him, picking up the drink.

Harrison lurched for it, a shout in protest. He'd been cut off several times over the evening, and it had been difficult enough to get the final mug. Of course, he could barely see straight, and his coordination was nonexistent.

Steve set the mug on the table, looking over at Harrison on the floor. “That’s enough of that. Get up.”

"Why are you being so mean?" His anger had fizzled into tears, the alcohol messing with his emotions.

“Look at you, you’re a state.” Steve said, his own anger difficult to control. “Right, come on. Let’s get you in the cot, and you can sleep.”

"Because you won't let me have a drink!"

“I think you’ve had enough now.” Steve said, offering him his hands.

Harrison pushed them away. "Drink first."

“No. I’m trying to help you.”

"This isn't helping!" He angrily rubbed the tears away.

“I know, I know. You’re just drunk.” Steve said, reaching out for him. “Come on.”

"I don't want to."

“But you need to.”

"No I don't. I need a drink."

“You’ve had more than enough.”

"How would you know?"

“You’re literally on the floor.”

"Yeah, well." He grumbled. "Give me a drink and I'll go to bed."

Rolling his eyes, Steve poured the ale out and filled the mug with the pitcher of fresh water he kept at hand. “Here’s a drink for you.”

Harrison’s jaw actually dropped. "Are you for real?"

“As real as I’m standing here in front of you.”

He staggered to his feet. "That's fucking…fucked."

Steve reached out to keep him upright. “Whatever you say.”

His lip curled. "Don't touch me."

“I’m trying to help.”

"Yeah, right. You've thrown my ale away, made me sit on the floor, and you had your sword at me." He gestured wildly as he spoke, trying to keep himself upright.

“You put yourself on the floor, and my sword never touched you.”

"I never said it did."

“Stop being overly dramatic and let me help you, unless you want to fall again.”

"I'm not the one being dramatic."

“Whatever you say. Let me help you to bed?”

"Haven't you done enough?"

Steve shrugged. “If you want to sleep on the cold floor then be my guest. But I thought you might be more comfortable in a bed.”

"I'm going back to the tavern."

“No you’re not.”

"You can't stop me."

“It’s my coin you’re spending, I absolutely can.” Steve said, wrapping an arm around him. “You’ll feel better for some rest.”

He jerked away, quickly overbalancing and grabbing towards Steve, his self preservation breaking through the alcoholic haze. "Help!"

“I’ve got you.” Steve reassured. “Let me help?”

"I don't need your help." He muttered to the floor, hanging his head.

“It’ll go quicker if I help.”

He rubbed his face, brushing a hand through his hair. "Alright."

“Thank you.” Steve said. He did most of the work, steering Harrison to the cot set up in the room. It would be somewhere for him to rest, where Steve could keep an eye on him. This wasn’t the first time he’d come home this drunk.

The room only seemed to spin more as Harrison lay down, and he groaned. "Steve."

“What is it?”

"'m gonna be sick."

There was a bucket nearby, and Steve passed it to Harrison. “Here. Try and get it in the bucket and not on the floor.”

His head buried in the bucket, his retort was lost to a groan, his stomach twisting and spasming. He retched as his whole body shook, his arm barely holding himself up.

Steve grimaced, glad he’d given him the bucket. At least that would hopefully make him feel better, once he’d finished.

Harrison fell back against the bed, sweat collecting on his brow. He rested the bucket on the floor, his hand still shaking.

Steve set aside his frustrations and moved to sit with him, offering him the water again. “Here, have some water.”

"Thank you." His voice was barely a whisper, a tiny smile pulling at the edge of his mouth.

“Have we got rid of that foul temper now?”

His cheeks were already flushed, but a blush tinged his ears. "I'm sorry."

“You really are horrid when you don’t feel well, you know that?”

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theheadlessphilosopher · 9 months

Text

Feel So Close to Heaven

Steddie, Explicit, One-shot

Summary: “You’re going to be a good boy for me, right Harrington?” Eddie asked, hand fisted in Steve’s hair. Steve nodded or at least tried to. “Words, baby.” “Yes, Eddie. Wanna be your good boy.” Eddie smiled down at him, a challenge in his eyes. “Prove it.” otherwise known as my Dom Top Trans Eddie fic that I've been working on for way too long CW: Dom Top Eddie, Sub Bottom Steve, Spit kink, Anal sex, Strap-on bj (Read on AO3)

“You’re going to be a good boy for me, right Harrington?” Eddie asked, hand fisted in Steve’s hair.

Steve nodded or at least tried to.

“Words, baby.”

“Yes, Eddie. Wanna be your good boy.”

Eddie smiled down at him, a challenge in his eyes.

“Prove it.”

He roughly guided Steve’s head to his strap, rubbing it up against his cheek. Steve opened his mouth eagerly, letting it sit heavy on his tongue. He suckled on the tip for a moment before sliding his lips up the shaft.

“Eager, are we?”

Steve moaned around the toy in his mouth, pulling off to tongue at the sides until it was dripping with saliva.

“Gonna fuck your mouth now, okay?”

“Yes. Please.”

Eddie caressed his cheek for a moment before shallowly thrusting into his mouth, his hand a brand against the back of Steve’s skull. He quickly built up a rhythm, pressing the toy deep enough to almost trigger his gag reflex.

“You’re taking me so well, baby.”

Steve moaned and gazed up at him through his long damp lashes. Eddie smiled down at him before pulling him off roughly.

“Tongue out, darlin’.”

Steve eagerly complied, presenting his tongue. Eddie leaned forward, letting saliva pool in his mouth before spitting it onto his boyfriend’s waiting tongue. Steve’s eyes fluttered close.

“Swallow it, baby.”

Eddie watched the line of his throat as he did so, reaching out to gently thumb at his Adam's apple.

“So good for me.”

Steve whined at the praise. He looped a finger into the strap of Eddie’s harness and gave it a light, pleading tug.

“Wanna taste you, Eddie. Please?”

Eddie felt his dick pulse at the thought, the wet heat between his legs becoming hard to ignore.

“How ‘bout I make you come on my cock and then after I sit on your pretty face? That sound good, sweetheart?”

“S’good, Eddie. So good,” Steve babbled, nodding enthusiastically.

Eddie pulled him in for a bruising kiss, pulling back with a nip on his swollen bottom lip.

“Hands and knees, princess.”

Steve rushed to comply, presenting his ass with a teasing little shake. Eddie swatted him for his trouble but kissed away the sting.

“Brat,” he muttered as he grabbed the lube from their bedside table.

He teased a slick finger down Steve’s crack, watching as he shivered. Gently, he pressed his finger in to the first knuckle, pausing to let Steve relax a little more.

“Doing okay, baby?”

“Yeah, keep going.”

Soon he was fucking a second finger into him, curling them up to brush his prostate. Steve was moaning brokenly, head hanging between his arms as he struggled to stay upright. With the introduction of a third finger he nearly toppled over. Eddie grabbed his hip to steady him.

“Easy there, Stevie.”

“F-fuck me already,” he gasped out.

Eddie pinched his side sharply.

“Wanna try that again, baby?”

“Please, Eddie. I need it s-so bad.”

Eddie relented, pulling his fingers out of his boyfriend, making him cry out.

“I’ve got you, sweetheart. I’ll take care of you,” Eddie whispered in his ear.

He quickly slicked up his strap before draping himself over Steve’s back. Eddie pressed kisses to the freckles at the base of his neck as he guided the slick head of the strap to Steve’s hole.

“Breathe out for me.”

As Steve let out a breath, he slid in smoothly and placed a gentling hand low on his stomach. Steve started to push back against it, but Eddie squeezed his hip to still him. Slowly, he bottomed out. Steve groaned low in his throat and Eddie kissed the nape of his neck.

“So good. Doing so good for me, Stevie.”

Eddie set a slow pace, watching his cock sink into the tight furl of Steve’s body. He held a bruising grip on Steve’s hip as he aimed for the place that had him choking on a sob. His own need coiled in his gut, making his thighs grow slick as he relentlessly hit his boyfriend’s prostate.

“Ed-Eddie, m’close.”

Eddie’s nails dug into his side, hand flat on Steve’s back to press his chest to the mattress.

“Yeah? You gonna come just from my cock, baby?” He asked, thrusts picking up speed.

Steve mumbled incoherently beneath him, hands scrabbling at the sheets. Eddie thought he could come from this alone. Just watching his baby fall apart under him with his pretty face flushed and sweaty, perfect hair sticking to his temples. His dick twitched at a particularly loud moan and he grabbed Steve by the hair to better hear him cry out.

“C’mon, babygirl. Come for me.”

He punctuated the command with a sharp smack to his ass that had Steve falling over the edge, crying out a garbled version of his name. Eddie fucked him through it, whispering praise in his ear as he spilled onto the sheets below. He stilled his hips but stayed inside him, rubbing Steve’s back soothingly.

“So good, sweetheart. You did so good for me.” He brushed the hair off his sweaty forehead. “I’m gonna pull out now, okay?”

Once he’d pulled out, he spread Steve’s cheeks to look at his puffy hole. Steve whined high in his throat.

“Mm, so pretty, Stevie. Even here.”

Eddie licked over it, ignoring the taste of lube in favor of making his boy shake. He gave it a delicate kiss before spitting directly in it. Steve moaned loudly, hole clenching in a feeble attempt to keep it inside him.

"Need more, baby?" Eddie asked, idly circling his hole with his thumb.

Steve shook his head but didn't move, letting Eddie play with his body however he pleased. Eddie finally unstrapped the harness and got Steve to roll onto his back. He tossed the strap aside before crawling over his boyfriend and kissing him deeply.

“My good boy. My sweet Stevie,” he murmured against his lips.

Steve blinked up at him, reaching up to tug at a stray curl.

“Still wanna taste you. Please, Eds.”

Eddie smirked, petting a hand through his chest hair.

“Yeah? Wanna show me what that mouth was made for, baby?”

Steve nodded, grabbing at Eddie’s hips to urge him over. Giving in, he moved until his pussy was hovering over his boyfriend’s face. Steve pressed a gentle kiss to his inner thigh before firmly tugging Eddie closer and fitting his lips around his dick. Eddie keened at the suction, bracing his hands against the wall to keep himself upright.

“So good, Stevie. You’re making me feel so good.”

Steve hummed at the praise, making Eddie’s hips jerk with the vibration. He was already dripping. He could feel the way his slick coated Steve's chin as he focused his attention on his dick. A gentle scrape of teeth had him nearly over the edge, thighs clamping around his boyfriend's head.

"Fuck, Steve. Your fucking mouth."

He thrust his hips, humping his face as he neared his climax. He felt one of Steve's fingers trail up his leg and trace his folds.

"Yes, yes. C'mon baby, give it to me."

Steve hummed against him as he coated two of his fingers in Eddie's wetness. Slowly, he pressed them inside him, curling them just right to hit his g-spot. Eddie curled in on himself, feeling his dick pulse as he reached the verge of his orgasm.

"Fuck fuck fuck fuck. I'm gonna come, babe," he grunted, one hand gripping his boyfriend's hair while the other pinched his nipple.

It only took a few more thrusts of his fingers for Eddie to come. He rode out his orgasm, steadily grinding his hips down onto Steve's fingers. Steve licked up what he could of the mess until Eddie had enough, lifting himself up and off his boyfriend's face.

"Jesus H Christ, Stevie. Fuck."

Steve smiled dopily at him, eyes hazy and mouth slick. Eddie couldn't help but to press close and kiss him, tasting himself on his boyfriend's tongue. Eddie threw a leg over Steve's, tucking himself into his side. He buried his face partly in his armpit and took a deep breath.

"Are you sniffing me?" Steve asked, sounding fond.

"Yeah. What about it, Harrington?"

Eddie punctuated the question by licking a stripe up his underarm.

"You're such a weirdo."

“What does that make you? You are what you eat, ya know,” he teased.

Steve gave an exaggerated sigh before kissing his forehead.

“Whatever you say, Eds.”

Tag list: @stobinesque @starryeyedjanai @patchworkgargoyle @bonebase 💗

#ITS FINALLY HERE!!!#dom top trans eddie #steddie #steddie fanfic #steddie smut #nsft #phil writes #my fics #st #stranger things #trans eddie munson #yes the title is from turbo lover

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