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paperbackribs · 6 months

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In the Darkest Corner

A halloween side-story for the Witch Steve AU series. POV outsider.

Andy joined his teammate, Jason Carver, to terrorise the young members of the party while they 'hunted the freak' over Spring Break. Steve Harrington ensures that Andy will receive the justice he deserves for hurting one of his kids. A spooky story set over Halloween as Steve uses his Witch powers to make Andy regret his actions.

Andy can’t help the strange shiver that comes over him as he passes the Hellfire Club members in the school’s empty hallway. The echo of his footsteps gives way to the exuberant noise of the no-name freshmen and Eddie ‘The Freak’ Munson as the latter trails behind Sinclair.

Apparently, Coleman is allowing Munson to visit in the new school year as part of an apology and so that the club can do a proper handover. Andy mentally sneers at the Hawkin High principal; what a pansy reaction just because Jason had got them all a little riled up after Chrissy's death.

Munson’s talking to the younger girl, she’s in a pink jacket thrown over some turquoise outfit — Girl Sinclair? Erica, he abruptly recalls, remembering Chief Hoppers’ glower as he’d dressed down Andy in front of his folks at his role in capturing Sinclar's sister along with the rest of the satanist freaks.

Or, at least, Andy had thought they were satanists. Jason had seemed so right and true over Spring Break, pointing to the obvious wrongness of Munson and how weird the little freaks around him were.

But these days... well, Lynda and the rest of the girls in the Cheer Squad were saying a few things about how poor Chrissy had been afraid of Jason before she died and...

And Patrick... he was law-abiding and respectful, a decent power forward and loyal to the Hawkin’s basketball team. But what had happened to him, the horror of what Andy had heard had been done to his body, and Jason had been right there...

It’s not his business, Andy thinks firmly, moving to walk past the young teens boisterously jostling opposite him in the hallway.

The orange and black of the recently decorated Halloween ornaments on the walls create a fitting background to the black leather-clad leader of the nerd brigade.

The grimacing smile of the sickly orange pumpkin faces mocking him as surely as the group’s laughter as they chatter amongst themselves, ignoring Andy.

He scowls at their indifference, striding past with his fists firmly planted in the pockets of his green and white varsity jacket. But none of it is his business, not really.

Not anything about Jason and Chrissy anyway, he assures himself, ignoring the uneasy memory of how much he had made it his business when Chrissy was reported murdered and they’d decided to hunt down the trailer park trash and freak.

What happened to her and Patrick though — really, that was up to the cops. Nevertheless, he doesn’t feel right about hanging out with Jason anymore. The cheerleaders definitely don’t, and no one is going to have a half-decent party if the cheer squad decline to turn up just because Jason was invited.

Munson easily smiles at something the girl, Erica, says and Andy averts his eyes from the freak. It’s far more fun to taunt the psycho nerd when Andy has his friends around. Watching Munson carefully choose his words, so he doesn’t get pinged by the authorities is incredibly satisfying whenever the team baits him around town.

So far, the former leader of Hellfire has restrained himself, but Andy isn’t sure that he wants to push it yet since Hopper had taken him for a ‘ride along’ a few days ago.

He swallows hard at the memory of Hopper outlining exactly what he would do to Andy if he tried to stir up the same trouble that Jason had done over Spring Break. As he does, he catches the gaze of little Sinclair. Her deep brown eyes flash up and meet his before dismissing him to look back and respond to Munson’s question.

Andy bristles at the disrespect in Erica’s attitude. She should remember how easily he had shown her who was in control of the situation when he’d chased her down and grabbed her in front of the old Creel house. Little shit had been scared enough when it was just him and her in the dead of the night.

He’s tempted to reach a big hand out to her shoulder and give her small shoulders a little shake so she can appreciate her current freedom, but she glances behind her again and Andy inexplicably feels his body freeze. Munson follows her gaze to look at Andy with a cool and unwelcoming expression.

The hairs at the nape of Andy’s neck rise and cold lock his joints from moving from his spot in the hallway. It’s not until the group of the dweebs round the corner, the faint sound of their laughter hanging in the air, that Andy feels his bones give way.

He unclenches his stiff jaw, shaking it off and determinedly striding away. He has dribbles to practise if he wants to make point guard.

---

“It’s called a Spirit Week for a reason, Ron,” Lynda sulkily frowns down at her banana milkshake, angry at her boyfriend for failing to get into the Halloween festivities. The bustle of folks at the Soda Fountain almost drown out her words.

Andy rolls his eyes over Lynda’s head to Ron sitting next to her, but he’s not even listening to them. His teammate has an arm thrown over the back of the booth by Lynda’s shoulders while disinterestedly looking out of the large windows to the autumn afternoon. The fading sun casts golden fingers of light onto the red and green Formica tables.

Ever since Chrissy had died the girls on the Cheer Squad had been high maintenance, prone to being overly emotional and, honestly, complete downers. So what if Ron doesn’t have a preference for their couple’s costumes on Wednesday’s Wacky Tacky Day?

Andy ignores the flickering of the fluorescents above him as he continues to scold the girls in his head. The fragmented light is barely noticeable in the busy post-school rush. Laurie, his sister, works here some afternoons, but she’s not behind the counter today.

The lit-up jukebox behind him faintly plays the eerie pulsating synth of Rockwell; the lead calls out that it’s close to midnight, evil is lurking, and somebody is watching him from across the darkness.

Andy rolls his eyes again, but this time at whoever’s getting into the Halloween mood with their music choices.

Ron is just going to dress up in whatever costume Lynda decides anyway, Andy knows. She’ll figure it out and doesn’t need to be so over the top just because Ron hadn’t magically come up with some incredible, romantic idea by himself. Andy looks over at her frozen expression, scoffing again.

His chips are halfway between the red basket and towards his open mouth when Andy realises that Lynda’s frozen expression is literal. She’s not moved, her soft, shining lips parted, light brown eyes averted, and elbows locked.

Andy flicks his gaze beyond her and sees that Ron is frozen too as if by an invisible hand, just like Jesse and Grady in the booth behind them. The sea of green and white outfits of the basketball team is eerily stopped in place.

Ron’s long column of his neck is bare and defenceless as his head stays tilted up towards the high ceilings in a stretch. Jesse’s jacket gapes open, laying bare the thin shirt over his chest, with his hand reaching behind as if to scratch his back. None of the boys, or the girls at the end table, move. All motion is arrested. Silent and uncanny like a film paused mid-action.

His heart beating irregularly in his chest, Andy dares to turn his eyes to the rest of the parlour.

The open space is unnaturally soundless. The servers in their white and blue dresses paused in the act of serving drinks or bussing tables, their arms outstretched, leaving the naked skin of their arms and legs exposed.

Andy is the only one awake for this strange and impossible moment. As he looks further, he notes a scarlet tinge that inexplicably seeps further into his world.

The checkered walls subtly bend and warp, crimson bleeding below his sneakers to coat the white plastic in a nasty, faded pink. The corners of the room become shapeless and dark, twisting amongst the frozen figures of his peers to sinisterly embrace them.

Andy is helpless, able to move himself but terrified to in case the horror of the room turns its focus on him. The hunted feeling intensifies as though he has become vulnerable like fleeing prey.

The jukebox’s synth bassline is completely forgotten as a whisper starts, forming into the sweet sound of a young girl’s softly lilting voice as she sings:

In the darkest corners, he'll win the race,

Through the moonlight's glow and the shadows' embrace,

He hunts you down, you can’t find a safe place.

Run away, run away—

The enchantment of the child’s voice abruptly breaks away as Andy is jostled by none other than Munson the Freak as he walks past, accidentally bumping into him. The howling of a wolf shatters the silence, and Andy startles until he realises that it’s the beginning of Thriller over the jukebox.

“Sorry,” Munson sneers over his retracting elbow, walking past with a greasy paper bag and absent of all respect for his betters, but the rest of the room is suddenly and blessedly full of loud movement and sound. A glass nosily smashes to the floor and a boy hoots across the space at his friends; the extraordinary hush is broken.

Continued and complete over at Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/50672572

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#in a steddie series #set after The Gift though no spoilers #witchsteve #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #erica sinclair #steddie #paperbackribs writing

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nexusnyx · 2 years

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ultraviolet | steddie x you imagine

PAIRING: Eddie Munson x F!Sinclair!Reader x Steve Harrington

WC: 7K

SUMMARY: A piece of garment leads Eddie to your room, then deeper into your life.

Consequently, Steve comes too. Although crazier things like the Upside Down happened, dealing with the two of them feels like an out of body experience.

OR; Eddie heard what you had to say about his clothing choices and ends up in your room. Then ends up taking you to one, two, several dates. That surprises him, but not as much as figuring out that you thought Steve Harrington liked him. And that you were okay with that. What world is he living in?

WARNING(s): Smut. Minors, DNI. I do not give permission for my work to be copied, uploaded, or distributed elsewhere.

A/N: Canon divergent from S4. I just sort of... shoved Reader in the middle of Hawkins somewhat and threw her in the Fruity Four. She's as fruity as them. Trust me.

☄️ PART TWO - PART THREE

Eddie shouldn't be at the Sinclair at this hour of the night, but curiosity was eating him alive.

His mind kept playing your words over and over again like a song stuck in his brain—after agonizing weeks of catching your gaze fixed on it, overhearing you tell your best friend "almost snatched that thing from his hand and set it on fire. why would he wave it at my face like that? stupid thing—i'm so glad he wears it sometimes. that shit drove me insane those first couple of weeks; you remember. thinkin' about if he knew all the damn time. i bet i look better than him in that thing. why does he have to look so good in it? ughhhh.... anyway, let's get out of here before one 'em asks for a ride. let's go."

The way Cassie laughed as you spoke, open and vibrantly, interjecting with 'I know, I know. God, you were embarrassing, girl. I bet you do! Why don't you ask him to wear it, huh?' , it got Eddie thinking that he wasn't so crazy after all.

He'd seen your eyes on his arms. Tattoos. Rings.

Lips.

He's seen the way something burns behind your eyes when you challenge him at the table—the way you leaned in before saying your next move—Eddie wanted to think he was going batshit crazy for these past couple of months because a) Sinclair was right fucking there, and he's trying not to be a dick and hit on his friend's sister but most importantly b) Eddie had a thing about you back in high school and wanting to admit that maybe just going forth and talking to you instead of watching from afar might've worked, and you two might have been friends if he hadn't just convinced himself everybody hated him.

So now here he was.

"What are you doing here?" the question is asked in a low tone at least, but the cadence in her voice doesn't lie.

Fuck. Fuckity fuck fuck—"Milady," Eddie whispers, turning around to face a smug-looking thirteen-year-old. "What are you doing out of bed so late?" He asks Erica.

The youngest Sinclar tilts her hips, resting one hand on it with a face that could answer for itself. "I believe I asked you a question first," she smirks.

"That you did." Eddie straightens up. "I'm here... for a late-night visit."

"Is that so?"

"It is so." Eddie gives her a little bow. "Permission to enter?"

Erica scoffs at him, and drinks another sip of her juice before answering. "Just don't let Lucas see you." She starts walking back in direction of the stairs. "He's got the 'who are you and why are you talking to my sister' syndrome lately. It's pretty annoying." With one last look over her shoulder, Erica throws him a final smile. "The side of the garden's got a pretty good structure on the side and these stairs creak." A shrug of her shoulder. "Just thought you'd like to know."

Eddie watches Erica climbing up the stairs and avoiding a couple before the final steps and smiles to himself.

She must be a good sister for Lady Applejack to have her back like that, he thinks.

For a moment, Eddie stays a little frozen, wondering what the fuck he's doing here again. It's not the first or the twentieth time he overthinks this today, but after this afternoon, he kind of can't take it anymore.

The intense looks and teasing remarks had been bad.

Catching your look on his arms as you and his friends drank a beer had been enough to get his throat dry even as the drink went down.

Hearing that?

He sort of skip-runs to your room, making sure to miss the same steps Erica did and stepping as lightly as possible in his worn-out leather boots.

Stealth came to him when it mattered.

Eddie knows your door because he's been here a few times by now, both to hang with you as well as Lucas. He walks past his friend's room, purposely looking away. Past Erica's room, and stops in front of yours.

At the end of the corridor, he sees the space between the floor and the door in your parents' room is pitch black. His clock shines with the number 01:18. He knocks lightly.

"No thank you, Riri," comes your voice from inside, in a loud whisper. Eddie drinks in your voice.

Eddie breathes in deep, closes his eyes, and opens the door, stepping inside and closing it behind him.

His throat's dry, but he manages a, "Not Erica," with his eyes still closed.

There's a heartbeat of silence where he just stands there waiting for your answer, and since Eddie can't breathe in the silence with you he asks,

"Can I open my eyes?"

"You're here." That's... not an answer. "You can open your eyes," it comes out a little breathy, and he hears the nervousness in your chuckle.

When Eddie opens his eyes, he almost regrets his choice in time.

In location.

If he'd asked you to meet him at the arcade, this wouldn't be happening.

He swallows thickly and looks away from your frame sitting down on the floor with what like nothing but a worn-out dark grey Def Leppard shirt, surrounded by a bunch of magazines and journal things. "Sorry about the time," he looks around your room.

A lot of what he expected, but a lot of things he didn't.

"Uh... it's fine," you clear your throat and Eddie catches you getting up from the corner of his eye, and he's drawn back to you. "What's up?"

You have the cutest shorts on, and—fuck. Eddie snaps his eyes up, too distracted already because there's a lot more thigh than he expected on display and he had no idea what to do in the first place; came here all the way thinking about what the hell he'd say or even do, biking furiously just by the force of that feeling just crawling under his skin—

He sits on the far end of your bed, and looks up at you.

So damn pretty.

Eddie pats the bed, a smile slowly forming on his face.

Obediently, you sit, suddenly as quiet as him, with your eyes just searching every inch of his face.

Eddie's hand goes to his back where the handkerchief is tied in a knot to one of the straps in his jeans, and he releases the item in a couple of practiced movements.

Then, he awkwardly just... lays the thing on top of your bed, in the perfect distance of the middle space between your bodies.

It's wrinkly because it was in the washing machine after he wore it during practice, but at least it smells good and is clean like it always should be.

He looks up, and your body became stiff.

It's easy to see it in the shoulders and the set of your jaw.

"You said you bet you look better with it than I do, and I need to know now." He shrugs his shoulders, ignoring the way your eyes widen. "I bet you do too, but. Just making sure."

"You heard," you breathe out, cheeks burning. He can see it even in the low light of just your lamp.

"I heard.”

Another heartbeat of silence. Eddie wonders if he jumped the gun. Presumed the wrong thing. He’ll hate himself to the bones if that’s the case. If he lost—

"You came here. To my house. Right now, at... I don't know what time in the morning. To see if I... look better than you in your—bandana."

"Among other things, but—the main one is that, yeah." Why does she look even hotter when she's embarrassed? "I wanted to know what you were wondering that I may or may not know about it. If you really hate it when I wave it in your face or was that just euphemism." That one was really important. "'Cause if you really hate it I'll stop doing it—I know I can get overly excited running the table sometimes. Dustin still moans about the water gun thing, and while I like hyper-realism to hype you guys up, if it bothers or gets annoying you know I'll quit."

The courage to sit on your bed Eddie had no idea where it came from, but the rambling always got the best of him when he was with you.

With a lot of people—people he found close to, not judged by.

Unlike most people, you always hear everything he says. The first time he really spoke with you again after joining Hellfire, the day you stayed behind to help him clean up everything, Eddie laughed more that day than he had in a long time.

And he noticed you listened because, for the first time, someone answered all the questions he did, no matter how many topics he talked about at the same time;

"Alright," you say, smiling. You pick up the piece of fabric and wrap it around your head, securing it with a knot on the back, then drop your arms to your side. "I wanted to know if you knew this is—uh—more. Symbolic. To some people." The stiffness of saying those words is replaced by a carefree smile when you follow with: "And nah. It doesn't bother me. You just make me mad. That's all."

"Oh." Eddie's having a hard time processing all of it, though.

You look too good with his handkerchief.

"So?" You ask.

It takes a moment, but he nods. "Yeah." So much better. He squirms in the bed a little, feeling the heat creeping on the back of his neck. He wants to be embarrassed by how quickly he's already feeling the flames licking up his inner thighs too, but it's you and—"Lots better," he adds.

Your smile is so soft and nervous that it makes him move.

Eddie inches closer to you on the bed, searching in your face for that fire he's familiar with by now. "You know..." you drive me crazy too. I felt a hurricane in my stomach when you stepped inside that garage. "You stare at my rings a lot."

With only a few palms separating your bodies, Eddie gets to see your blush from up closer.

"You wear a lot of them," you whisper back.

"It's fashion," he feels one corner of his mouth lifting, and his shoulders dropping further. How long had it been since he flirted so openly with someone? One of his hands goes to the back of his neck, trying to scratch away the prickly heat in there. His mouth is dry. Fuck it. "What about the bats and snake?"

The way your eyes flutter closed makes the bottom of his stomach squeeze.

"Yeah, I kinda fucked up that day, didn't I?" you chuckle to yourself, opening your eyes to look at him.

"Sinclair! You're gonna stare Munson's tattoos away."

"Shut up! She's not looking at his—oh my god, you are! Stop looking at Eddie's tattoos! Ew!"

"Stop screaming. This is a lake. He's got them... out. I'm not allowed to look? Shut up, Lulu."

"I will drown you."

"Come at me, stick boy."

"It feels nice to have them looked at," Eddie shrugs, feigning nonchalance. Inside, he can hear the sound of his heart beating in his ears. When you lick your lips, Eddie feels like the movement sinks a hook in his eyes and pulls. "Y/n."

"Yeah?"

Just ask. You could've been doing this for a long time. Stop wasting time. "I'm gonna kiss you. And then I'm gonna ask you on a date," he feels his voice is lower than it's ever been, but when you nod, Eddie knows he was heard at least. "Ok?" He asks, as if you hadn't just nodded.

His brain might need to hear it.

"Ok," you answer in the same second.

Right.

You're sitting on the left side while Eddie's on the right one, so he swings his legs over until he's mirroring you and closes the distance between your hips.

If this was daytime and his daylight-thoughts ran the wheel, Eddie might've done the romantic slow, step-by-step thing. Taken your face in his hands and sat there for moments just staring at you, drinking in your features and enjoying watching your eyes softly close before finally diving in slowly, taking a moment to appreciate how your lips came together.

Night-time Eddie has been running on half a pizza, two energy drinks and a beer—he has the sight of you in your pjs burned in the back of his eyelids, popping in neon frames every time he blinks.

He can smell your body that probably came out of the shower not long ago.

Feel your warmth.

Night-time Eddie also knows your features very well.

He grabs you with one hand on your face — his hand big enough to cover all of the ride side — and the other goes to your waist, gripping and pulling you closer.

He smashes your mouths together in a hard press of lips, but hearing the breathy moan you let out makes up for his lack of decorum.

Your lips are so soft he moves his immediately, wanting to feel more.

Eddie's kissing you. For a second, he can't believe what he's doing, what is happening.

He's kissing with and you're kissing back, tongue peaking to push for entrance as your body presses closer and closer until your chest is touching his, your arms coming up to wrap around his neck.

The hand on your face grabs your hair instead, and the way your move your tongue on his might be melting his brain.

Where did she learn to kiss? Fuck, that's good—His own grunts are swallowed by even more of your sinful tongue moving so languid, lazily, tasting every inch of him. You kiss him until there's no air left in your lungs and you have to pull back, but with one breath you dive right back in.

Eddie's not ashamed of the way he whimpers.

He's kissing you, and the hand on your waist travels on your lower back until his arm is wrapped around you. He can't believe he's here, but it's so good he can't care that his brain seems to be in overdrive.

It'd been a while since he's made out with someone who's wanted to kiss him like this, but on that trip it had been a sloppy, strangers-who-shared-looks desperate exchange of kisses in a suspicious bathroom.

Nothing had ever been like this.

There's nothing strange or casual about the way you two are kissing each other, and Eddie is overtaken by the desire to just tug on the fistful of hair he has.

Your whimper sounds better than his.

"Eddie."

Oh, fuck. "Fuck." He might be screwed. "Uhm." He swallows thickly, realizing just now how much his pants had become uncomfortable in the span of just a few minutes—just a bit of kissing. "This is the part where I ask you out."

Only inches apart from his face, Eddie can see your lips, redder than before, and they look edible when you bite on them. "No more kisses?"

Eddie whimpers again, eyebrows creasing. You laugh lightly. "That might not be the best idea."

"Why not?"

"Well. Number one—You're a really good kisser. Really good." Your smile widens, and Eddie is definitely screwed. "Number two..." gets lost.

You're leaning your face closer to his again and that eats the words right out of his throat.

This time, the press of lips is slow and sweet.

You pout your lips and touch them on his, closing his eyes involuntarily. Eddie likes how they feel, and forgets any reasons why he should stop.

Kissing you is a lot more fun than thinking, even if he can't believe it's happening.

And neither can you.

You can't believe you have Eddie Freaking Munson sitting in your bed, whimpering and groping your body like he's trying to memorize your measurements, and the thought is too much to stop you from doing what you do next.

You rise to your knees and one leg makes a swift motion over both of his until you straddle his lap, and his response is a hiss the moment your hips make contact with his, the answer why hard and obvious underneath you.

"Fuck. Fuck—" Eddie's hands hold onto your waist and grip tight, squeezing the flesh and keeping you in place with the strength. "Y/n," it's so whimpery and strained, which is just like him.

You hold his face in your hands, heart beating fast enough to crash through your ribs. "More kisses?" You phrase it as a question, trying to rid all thoughts and insecurities aside, pushing away anything that isn't trying to figure out how much of this hazy dream-like reality you can get.

Eddie noses along your jaw, kissing on your neck. "This..." on your jugular, with his tongue. "Is more..." under your earlobe, sucking some of the skin between his teeth. "Than me asking you out."

Your legs squeeze around his hips when he bites there, and your hips grind down despite his tight hold. "I know."

"You know?" so close to your ear, you can hear even the raspiness in his voice. "And want more kisses?"

"Yeah." You would demand them, as a matter of fact, if you knew he was into that, but Eddie putting his lips all over your skin takes away some of your ability to rationalize a whole question. "Please?"

To your luck, the answer to whether he's good at taking control or not is answered with the way he scoots both of your bodies further up on the bed, laying down his body and pulling you by the nape to lay on top of him as he gives you one more kiss.

The position is comfortable, but practical.

Even as you kiss him, it's easy to quickly realize what he's done by lying down and allowing you to stay on top of him: Eddie's given you the control to dictate how far this goes.

His hips stay still on the bed, and his tongue moves in filthy drags inside your mouth while his hand massages your scalp, and the other gets under your shirt, caressing all the skin on your back.

It's easy to see that unless you do something, Eddie's trying to be respectful.

Dreading that he might misinterpret this, you pull back abruptly from the kiss to say, "I'll say yes, by the way."

"Huh?"

You laugh. "When you ask me out." If this isn't a dream. "I'll say yes."

Realization dawns on his lustful eyes, and he nods. "Oh." A smile splits his face open. "Okay."

"Okay," you giggle. This time when you kiss him, you let your body do as it pleases.

It feels surreal to have his hands on you, but it feels even better when you let out your sighs and moans in his mouth and Eddie squeezes harder. When you grind your hips down on his, there's an intake of breath underneath you, and he pulls you back by your hair; he was hard before, but he's rock hard now, and there's nothing to hide how hot you are between your legs.

Eddie takes your grinding as permission, his hands slipping down further in your body until they're both cupping your ass, groping the skin and guiding your hips to do the motion again.

Both of you moan in each other's mouths, but it's him who smirks at you and goes, "Shhh."

"Don't shush me," you whimper. It'd been ages since you heard you voice come out this bratty.

Eddie enjoys it. He laughs in your mouth, kisses you shortly before using his body strength to flip you on your back, and then switches to be the one on top of you now. "I don't think you want us to be interrupted," he reasons.

His mouth starts dropping kisses on your face, and travels down to your neck slowly, leaving marks where his tongue sucked and leaving goosebumps where he nips on the skin.

The soft and breathy 'ah's that leave your mouth are not you trying to be blatantly disobedient—he's just so good with his mouth.

His hand underneath your shirt goes up until it finds one of your breasts and when he moans on your neck at getting his hand full of you, your legs come up to wrap around his waist a bit desperately.

The jeans hurt you, though.

When you seek friction against him again, desperate to release some of the tension building up inside you, the metal loops, belt and jeans prove not to be as comfortable as his pillowy lips, but Eddie's quick.

He realizes your next whimper is one of pain and not one of pleasure and pulls back, looking between your bodies.

"It's hurting you, right?" He asks.

You nod, panting. Part of you refuses the idea of letting your arms down and untangling your fingers from his hair — which is as soft as you imagined — but the other part wants... more.

And it wins.

Eddie gulps, still looking at how your bodies are joined, but when you say, "You can take it off," in a whisper, his gaze snaps to you.

He stares for a moment, smiling and breathing as hard as you are.

After adjusting his body more comfortably on top of yours and caging your head between his forearms, Eddie leans in for another kiss. "Should I, though?" He asks, kissing you again, running his nose on yours. "I..." He exhales sharply, lips pressing more roughly on yours. "Really don't wanna do this the wrong way."

The sentiment is beautiful. Truly, it is.

"Eddie." The thing is—wanting him is not new. "I've had a crush on you since sophomore year when you told me my ridiculous attempt of razor cutting my own hair looked 'metal. really. looks badass' and then just... walked away," you laugh, more at his wide and impressed eyes than at confessing to your stupid crush. "And now you're here. And you kinda asked me out. And you feel too good."

The last part comes off in a whine, with your body squirming underneath him.

Your point is proven when all the parts that connect you both can feel the heat shared between you both.

"If you wanna stop, we should stop now, but..." I don't want to.

"You're gonna kill me," Eddie whispers, mouth ghosting yours. "Dunno if I already died or this is some last-blink kinda dream, but fuck."

You laugh.

He grabs you by the waist and pushes you further up on the bed until your head is nearing the headboard, and the whole thing squeaks with the weight of you two on it.

Fucking old furniture.

Both of you stop at the same time, freezing with the sound, and taking note of how loud this would get if any more making out were to be done on this bed.

"Not gonna happen, right?" He asks.

"Uh—"

"Hold on." He looks down to both sides of your bed, then gets up, leaving you cold and making grabby hands at him. He smiles widely when he sees them, chuckling at himself. "Just a sec, sweetheart." Eddie grabs all three pillows on your bed and throws them on the right side of the bed where your fluffy rug is, then starts undoing his pants. With his eyes fixed on every inch of your legs, he whispers. "Get down there."

Your mouth dries at the sight of him taking off his pants, then it waters when his pale legs come in sight. The black briefs, strained by his cock, it makes your mouth water.

You get up, then get down on the floor just like he asked, removing your shirt in the process.

Eddie's mouth is gaping wide when you look up at him again.

"Fuck." He looks just like you must—in disbelief, and too turned on for many words. He makes quick work of his shirt too, but before he kneels in front of you, Eddie reaches on top of the bed and—

"What are you doing?" you ask when he places the handkerchief next to both of you on the floor.

He crawls on his knees until he's facing you, then organizes the pillows: one against the wall, and two next to you both. "Nothing," his smug smile makes you even wetter. It's ridiculous that you can feel more slick gushing out of you when he pulls you to his arms, guiding your legs to each side of his waist. "Just... precaution," he adds, lying you down on the pillows.

"Against wha—ah, oh, fuck," your words are eaten, then moaned. With nothing but your underwear on, when Eddie grinds his hips up and you feel the outline of his dick pressing between your wet folds, it feels heavenly.

He chuckles, right on your ear. Sucks your earlobe with his teeth. "Against that," his own moan is muffled by his lips biting and sucking on your neck again. There'll be marks tomorrow. "You gotta keep quiet, sweetheart."

"I can't," you cry. Feels too good. Your hips now make circular motions down, seeking the friction that his clothed cock provides shamelessly, and you hold onto his neck and hair for dear life because Eddie's not big, but he's thick, he's so thick it's making your head feel a bit foggy and your pussy to feel like a waterfall. "Eddie."

"I'll gag you if you can't," he says simply. "And I really don't wanna gag you. You got any idea how you sound saying my name?" With his voice dripping in lust and a few octaves lower, hearing him whisper like this in your ear is not helping. "I'm never gonna get a shut-eye ever again. My head's just gonna keep playing this."

Since he likes it so much, you do it again. "Eddie."

He pulls back from your neck to crash your mouths together, and this time, nothing can stop either one of you.

Eddie kisses you holding your legs wrapped around him, gripping your face with his hand, running them all over your body and squeezing the parts he seems to be enjoying the most.

It makes you feel a bit like a slut to be so open, yielding and mellow under his touch, but you're unsure it could be any different.

It's clear that Eddie's as desperate as you are—he sometimes holds your head in place just so he can grind harder between your legs, and his groans might be muffled by your mouth, but the desperation on your bodies moving together is quite loud.

When he eventually pulls back, Eddie grabs a handful of one of your tits and you're ruined to anyone else: the sight of him with his mouth gaping, leaning down to suck on your tit like his life depends on it—you bite on your bottom lip so hard that you taste blood.

His hair looks a mess. With open eyes, you can see his long, messy curls all over the place, and with you two lying right under the lamp, you can see the red on his cheeks and his chest, too, when he gets up again.

Eddie goes from one boob to another, sucking on the nipple, then nibbling on it, while his hips move in short thrusting motions.

It's not enough.

"E-Eddie," you whisper.

"Hm?" He's a bit busy now groping your ass and having a mouthful of your tits, but you still manage to answer.

"The rest. Take—oh—take it off. Please?"

That gets him to stop what he's doing to look up. "Right." He's the most beautiful mess you've ever seen. "Uhm. Where do you keep condoms?”

You shake your head at him. "I'm on the pill."

Eddie raises both eyebrows, licks and bites on his bottom lip and then comes up until your faces are on the same level again. "If I could smack your ass right now, I would."

You whimper, and squeeze your legs harder around him.

"Why would I be spanking you now if I could, hm?" He asks, grinding his dick right on top of where your clit is, just because he's mean. "Answer me. Where's the smartypants I know and adore? A few kisses and she's gone dumb already?"

"Fuck." If you keep talking like that, there won't be a braincell left. "Eddie."

"C'mon, sweetheart," he licks your lips and grinds down slower. "You know the answer."

Fucking hell. You're gonna kill him when you have the chance. "I—I don't know—"

"Yeah, you do." One of Eddie's hands reaches to the side and comes back with the black fabric in its grip. "Use that smart brain."

The voice of your friend Mina who introduced you to all things that lead to your own black handkerchief which sits somewhere in your closet comes from somewhere in the back of your mind, saying, "Wrap up to save a life?" you tell him, and Eddie laughs, his mouth inches away from yours.

"Good girl," he kisses you.

Eddie's chastising you for wanting to fuck without a condom because, and he's right about that, doing so would be wildly stupid.

"I've never—I always do," you tell him, not wanting him to think you go around letting anybody inside you raw. "I swear. It's just—I know you."

Eddie sees in your face why you're explaining yourself, and one of his hands cups your cheeks. "I know," he nods. "And I'll go to the doctor's tomorrow, take all my tests and bring them on a red bow on our date. Pinky promise. I just—I need you to know I've been safe, too."

You nod vehemently, suddenly drowning in what the hell this man is. You want to reach inside him and press every single button that makes him tick. Want to make him smile like he is right now every day and night if he'll let you.

"I'll do it too," you whisper. Right. Where do I keep condoms? You reach your left hand to pat your bedside table. "Here."

Eddie looks at it and gets up on his knees to open the drawers, to you take advantage of that to try and get your panties off, but still being sat between your legs, he catches the motion and looks back at you, slapping your hand away. "Ah. My job." He goes back to his search and you lay there with your panties as ruined as the rest of you, and watch as he retrieves a condom from the drawer at last with an, "Ha ha!"

He puts it down on the floor beside the handkerchief. There's a heartbeat of silence and still where you two just look at each other, and it dawns on you.

He's nervous, too.

Eddie visibly swallows before reaching down to remove his briefs, and you can see under the yellow dim-light that his blush spreads further on his chest.

He kicks off the briefs somewhere else, not bothering to look up at you and see your reaction.

Instead, he reaches to your panties, seeming much more interested in watching them come down.

Eddie pulls them down your legs slowly, and when your legs part just enough for him to get a glimpse of your core, his jaw drops again.

You can only imagine how much you must be glistening. Shining and dripping. Desperate for his touch.

Just like him, though, you can't bring yourself to look away—from him.

You were right about his length—Eddie's average-sized, but he's thicker than both partners you've had in life. It makes your mouth truly water.

He grabs the condom again, opens it and rolls it on his length, but then you think—"Wait," you say before he moves to lie on top of you again.

Eddie stills, looking up at you. "What?" The request sits under very slutty truths, and he must sense your hesitation because his features soften again and he covers your body with his. "Gone quiet on me now?" He's teasing you because the bastard knows it works. "You can ask me anything."

"Wanna feel you deeper," you whisper, and it's your mouth's turn to open wide.

One of Eddie's hands is cupping your face but the other—that one has founds its way between your legs, and Eddie's palming your entrance with all of his fingers and the heel of his palm, getting all of your slick all over his hand.

"Fucking hell," he mutters, lips ghosting over yours again. "You're so wet, sweetheart."

With his hand moving in slow circles against your cunt, you can feel the wetness amplifying again. "Eddie."

"Fuck, there it is—say it again." He punctuates the request by slipping a finger inside of you, and your next whimper is definitely too loud for blanket of silence that's draped over this hour of the night. "Sweetheart, I'm gonna have to gag you," he seems almost sad about it.

He's also right.

You nod, whimpering and hiding your face on the crook of his neck while he works now two fingers inside of you, and you know you're fucked in more than one way.

You can feel the edge of his cool metal rings brushing against your entrance when his fingers get close to the knuckles, and you want to scream for him to fuck you with his hand.

"Turn around," he says, taking his fingers out of you.

He takes his wet hand and licks one finger inside his mouth, closing his eyes in appreciation, but then uses the rest of the wetness shining all over his palm to pump his cock.

You turn around, head swimming now in gratitude that he'll stop you from traumatizing anyone in the house.

Sitting on your knees, you crawl until you're close to the wall. Eddie does the same until his body is pressed against yours again, his torso gluing to your sweaty back.

The handkerchief pops in your field of vision, held by both of his hands.

You open your mouth, and Eddie's face is hovering over your right shoulder, watching the whole thing. "Good girl," he mutters, pressing a kiss on your shoulder.

The handkerchief smells good.

He makes sure you can adjust it before tying it in a knot at the back. Then his right-hand grips you by the chin, looking at you as if he's admiring a piece of work.

"Good?" He asks you.

With a nod, you feel your mind slipping further and further, falling entirely in the care of his hands.

Eddie sits on the heel of his foot and you feel his arm reaching to guide himself to your entrance. His right-hand slides down your arm until it catches yours in his, and he intertwines your fingers together.

With his lips brushing your ear, he says. "If you need me to stop, squeeze twice," he squeezes your hand two times to demonstrate, then places your joined fists against the wall.

Then, Eddie starts teasing you.

He slides his cock between your folds, wetting himself in the process. Your pussy is clenching around nothing, wanting more, and he can tell.

There's a kiss under your ear before he asks, "You wanted me fucking you raw just so I could fill you up, right sweetheart?"

And... thank god for gags.

Your head drops, and your hips push back against him, desperate.

"I know, I know," he coos on your ear, teasing the head now against your clit. The position is favorable for anything, and the torture almost makes you regret asking to feel him deeper. "I'll give it to you one day, 'kay?"

You nod, desperately.

"Fucking hell, sweetheart, you're dripping," he whines.

Eddie's such a whiner, and it got to you before, but it'll absolutely make a mess out of you now every time you hear it.

Then, the head is pressing upwards right against your cunt, and Eddie sucks hard right under your ear before whispering, "C'mon, baby. Let me in."

Your moan is muffled by the gag, but you still register the desperation behind it.

He slips in slowly. It would be torture if it didn't feel so fucking good.

Eddie's so thick that he needs a few tries before he's fully seated in, bottomed out. He does so in shallow, slow thrusts until your ass is sitting flushed against his hips and every inch of him is inside of you.

That's when he lets go of his cock and puts that arm around your waist.

"There you go," he praises, kissing along your neck. "God, you feel so good."

He starts moving slowly at first.

Eddie goes as slow as he wants, and it takes you a moment to calm down your desperate need for everything before you can enjoy it.

He starts whispering sweet nothings on your neck, kissing and marking it all the way up until you're sedated on his movements and every other thought is vacant from your brain.

Once the fire in your body has been tamed, you manage to start moving your hips in the same motion as him, and feeling him grunt because of your hips matching his thrusts is all you could've wanted.

The way he keeps kissing you would be more than enough to make you cum. The whispers of, "doing so good, sweetheart, you like how I feel inside you?' and the way he sighs so happily when you manage to nod or shake your head as an answer to his questions guarantees that you'll be having dreams about his voice in the near future, night after night.

Your hands, intertwined and pressed against the wall, feel as sweaty and as hot as the rest of you, but you catch Eddie looking at them from time to time.

You wonder if he's checking on you. If he's just lost in the sight of you two joined in more than one way.

When he feels your whimpers growing closer together, Eddie makes sure to look you in the eye when asking, "Want more?"

Your eyes roll back at the question, and you hear him laughing. Like this is funny somehow.

It must be. Eddie keeps whispering, "can't believe this—you're too perfect—too fucking perfect; must be a fucking dream," so you can imagine how amusing it all is.

He gives you more.

Eddie, bless his cotton socks, seems more aware of the sounds you two are making than you possibly could be, and he tells you as much. "Can't fuck you too hard or too fast, sweetheart. Wish I could. Wish I could hear how pretty you scream, but this—fuck—it'll do. Right? Does that feel good?"

His hips go from slow, and deep thrusts, to short, hard, and deep.

Angled.

He's right, of course—if he fucked you into oblivion like both of you wanted to, the sounds would be more than telling even if you're gagged to keep your moans and screams at bay, but like this, you can feel him buried deep inside you, and Eddie knows he's found your spot when you squeal behind the gag and squeeze his hand, arching your back to him.

"That's it." He continues at that pace, coming up as close as he can be, gluing your bodies together while his hips fuck you like a bunny. "Fuck." He sounds so good. Wanna hear you scream too, Eddie. "Fuck, you're squeezing—you close, sweetheart? Hm?"

You nod.

The fire pooling at the pit of your stomach amplifies with each sharp thrust, and you bounce back against him, meeting him every time.

His whines are getting closer together, too.

A tiny part of you wanted to be eye to eye with him for this, to see the expression on his face perfectly as he comes undone, but it's too late for that now, and there'll be other times.

There'll be more times is the thought that pushes you over the edge. That, and the filth he keeps dropping on you, branding those words in your brain.

Eddie's grunting, his face buried in your neck now, and you can hear his, "c'mon sweetheart, let it go for me—I can feel you—fuck—I can feel you squeezing, let go for Eddie; cum for me, sweetheart, I'll fill you up next time—"

He stops talking when he feels you cumming undone, and you hear his short, breathy moans as he pistons his hips inside you in erratic motions before he stills too, and you feel his cock twitching inside of you.

You must be dreaming.

It would explain how and why Eddie Munson is running his nose on the crook of your neck, talking to himself.

It'd also explain why he's asking you if you're okay, and why the pressure in your mouth disappears when his hand goes to your hair.

"Sweetheart?" In heaven. "Oh." You hear him chuckling behind you, and pulling out despite the whines that meant 'I want you to stay in me'. "C'mere. Gonna put your clothes back on."

You're lost in the headspace that feels fuzzy and warm, but you still get to enjoy the process.

Eddie puts on his briefs, tosses the condom on your trash can and after wiping some of the sweat from your body with his t-shirt, he dresses you again in your sleeping clothes.

It's only when you're dressed and he's hovering over you, caressing your face with the fingers that were inside you not long ago, that you notice him looking between you and the window.

"No," you pout.

"Hm?"

"Stay," you whisper to him.

Eddie's smile is so pretty. "Okay," he nods. "We should get on the bed, though."

"Lock the door." The last thing you need is your mother opening it first thing in the morning and catching this metalhead sleeping with you.

Eddie locks the door and slips under the covers with you, his clothes still forgotten all over your floor.

If you're dreaming or not, you'll discover when daylight comes.

Either way, it was the best you ever had.

🔔 nyxredwild for updates | ko-fi ♥

#usernexusnyx #steddie x you #steddie x reader #steddie x y/n #steddie imagine #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x oc #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fics #eddie munson fluff #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington au #steve harrington fluff #eddie munson smut

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strangerthingslover69 · 1 year

Text

The lick of an ice lolly

The Byers host a BBQ on a hot summers day to celebrate being back in Hawkins. Everyone is here and you can’t wait to see them! You and Eddie have a smoke on the way and let’s just say it has a certain effect on you. As you settle down on a sun bed someone starts talking to you as you look to see who this mystery man is you know you are in trouble

18 + minors do not read!

warnings ~ drinking, smoking, swearing and smut ~

Dmitri Antonov + female reader

Another hot day in Hawkins, the perfect day for you and your friends to have a BBQ. The Byers had recently moved back to Hawkins and you couldn’t happier. Joyce was like a mum to you and Hopper like a dad. They always looked out for you. You couldn’t wait to see everyone together again. When you says everyone most definitely is, Joyce, Hopper, Murray, Will, El, Johnathan, Argyle (who was visiting Johnathan) Mike, Nancy, Steve, Eddie, Robin, Dustin, Lucas, Max and Erica. It was nice to have everyone back together. It was pure bliss. You loved them all, one strange big difunctional family. You were the same age as Eddie but you all got treated like kids. Since it was so hot you decided to wear your bikini top with some shorts, your bikini bottoms under them. The Byers new house had a very nice pool. Steve arrives to pick you up, he already had got Robin and Eddie. You sat in the back next to Eddie. ‘What’d you guys bring? I brought some vodka’ you held it up with a mischievous grin. ‘I made some cupcakes’ said Robin. ‘I’ve got a cool box full of beers’ replied Steve pointing to the boot.‘Shit I didn’t know we needed to bring anything’ Eddie replied as he lit up a joint. He offered you some and you happily accepted. ‘Hey don’t have to much you two, I know what your like, I’m talking to you Y/N’ Steve was warning you as sometimes when you are too high it can have a certain effect on you. Well let’s just say you have had some sort of experience with everyone in the car. Okay so you made out and felt up Robin. You sucked Steve’s dick and you fucked Eddie. It’s just an effect the weed had in you, it makes you extremely horny. You don’t know why! ‘Relax dad, I’m just having the one’ you say taking a long drag. ‘Mmhmm let’s just wait and see. Remember there’s kids there so don’t be a dip shit’ Steve says to you as he pulls into the Byers drive. ‘I’m fine, honest, I feel fine’ Eddie laughed and put his hand on your bare thigh sending shivers all over. ‘Well sweetheart, this stuff is a little bit stronger. So let’s just wait and see.’ He said with a wink getting out of the car. ‘You little fucker’ you mumbled to yourself. Hopefully you’ll be able to control yourself or god knows what’ll happen.

As you, Eddie, Steve and Robin make your way to the Byers garden you can feel the effect of the smoke you had with Eddie. You take some deep breaths as you see everyone. ‘Hey guys! So glad you could make it’ Joyce welcomes you and gives you all a hug. ‘We all brought some stuff! Well most of us, where would you like it?’ Steve says to Joyce. ‘Aw you didn’t have to, thank you. Just inside is good. There’s some ice for the alcohol. Drinks inside, Hops’ starting the food and there plenty of sun loungers so help yourselves!’ She says wondering off to welcome Lucas, Erica and Max. You scan around and see everyone here, you give a warm smile seeing everyone reunited. You take the bottle of vodka inside, pouring yourself some neat with ice and a lime. You need a drink to calm yourself down. El, Mike, Will and Dustin are in the pool racing one another. Argyle, Johnathan and Nancy are in a deep discussion about something. Robin and Steve go to join them. Eddie takes a seat on the sun lounger hiding under the umbrella. Joyce is now inside chopping the salad, Hop and Murray manning the BBQ and Max and Sinclars are now joining to others in the pool. You scan around and notice two empty sun loungers. You walk over and take off your shorts laying down on one. You are ready to tan. You have your sunglasses on and eyes closed so you don’t notice when someone sits next to you. You presume it’s one of the kids. You are wrong. ‘Hello, I don’t believe we have met? I’m Dmitri.’ A mysterious voice says to you as you lift your sunglasses up looking in his direction. Well hello. ‘Nice to meet you, I’m Y/N’ you sit up and shake his hand. You feel a spark when shaking his hand. God damn it Eddie you think to yourself. Sure you’d think he was beautiful no matter what but this weed makes you crave him. ‘Y/N pretty name. Nice to meet you to’ he says and you hear a think accent. ‘Where are you from?’ You ask. ‘Russia, I am visiting America for a little while. I am staying here. Joyce is very kind to let me.’ ‘Dmitri! Can you come help me please?’ Joyce calls from the kitchen. ‘Excuse me’ he says to you getting up and giving you a kind smile and a rub on the shoulder. You are in trouble, you unintentionally clamp your thighs next to one another hoping no one would notice. But of course someone does.

‘Ooh do you like our new Russian friend?’ Eddie says jokingly in a poor a Russian accent as he sits next to you. You roll your eyes and shove him in the shoulder. ‘Dick. Why would you let me smoke so much if you knew it’d have this god damn effect! What the hell was it anyway?’ You turn your head to make sure no one is listening. ‘There was more than damn weed that’s for sure. I’m not normally this turned on so quickly.’ You say feeling frustrated. ‘Ooh sweet sweet Y/N, there was weed of course. But Rick got something new in. I think he said it had an Aphrodisiac in it? Whatever that is. I just know it’s had no effect on me. I feel fine!’ Eddie moves slightly closer and whispers into your ear, ‘but by how hard you’re clenching your thighs it definitely had an effect on you.’ ‘Fuck Eddie do you even know what an Aphrodisiac is?!’ You ask feel exasperated. ‘Eddie shrugs but before you can say anything you hear someone calling your name. ‘Y/N, can you come here a second please sweetie?’ It’s Joyce. You get up, necking back your vodka. You don’t care it burns you need it. You kick Eddie in the ankle on the way past. ‘Ow! Now now Princess there was no need for that!’ He shouts as you walk away. You are feeling so hot and not just cause of the heat.

‘Hey honey, sorry to bother you it’s just everyone is busy, well apart from Eddie but I don’t really trust him to do a job for me. I just realised we don’t have any ice creams and I promises the kids we’d get some. Do you mind grabbing me some from the supermarket? Dmitri will drive you he just needs directions there.’ How can you say no to Joyce, she’s always helped you out. With a little sigh, ‘of course Joyce. Let me grab my shorts.’ You walk back outside and pop on your shorts. ‘Hey where you going?’ Eddie asks. ‘ice cream’ is all you respond with before flipping him off and meeting Dmitri in the car. The ride over is fairly quiet, you are too hot and bothered to talk the radio playing faintly in the background. You give Dmitri directions to the supermarket and get there fairly quick. You both get out the car and go inside. You are walking side by side not saying a word. You feel if you speak you’ll say the wrong thing. Your hands accidentally brush across as you walk, you flinch at the sudden touch. A throbbing going straight to your pussy. ‘Y/N, have I upset or offended you?’ Dmitri asks as you reach the freezer section. You look at him puzzled, ‘no, why?’ ‘No reason, just wanting to check’ Dmitri replies back. ‘So many choices. What do you think we should get?’ Dmitri asks you changing the subject. You think for a minute before adding two pints of Ben and Jerry, you know it’s Hops’ favourite. Some ice lollies for the kids, some ice cream cones and some kind of fruity ones. ‘This’ll be enough’ you declare walking off. Dmitri is quick to catch you up. As you pay and head back to the car Dmitri takes a couple of the ice lollies out. ‘I’m sure they won’t mind us having some now’ he says with a cheeky smile. You pack the other lollies and ice cream into the car. You take the ice lolly from him with a smile. ‘Thank you.’ You get back into the car sitting next to Dmitri.

‘So tell me about yourself Y/N’ he says as he takes the wrapping off the lolly. He put it into his mouth sucking the juices, taking it out with a pop. He starts to lick it up and down. Your mouth went dry as you watch his tongue move along the ice cold treat. *clearing throat* ‘erm not much to tell, I live a couple of miles away, work at family video with Steve and Robin, I-I finished school a few years back. And I-‘ your mouth stops moving as you can’t help watch him licking the lolly, he looks like he’d be good with that tongue. Dmitri notices you’ve stopped talking and looks at you to carry on but you can’t. Your eyes are glued. He follows to what you are staring at and stops. ‘Are you okay?’ He asks looking concerned, he reaches over and puts his hand on top of yours. His touch is so gentle and soft but his hands feel rough, like a real man. You try to talk but words fail to leave your mouth, you must nod and open your now melty ice lolly. You can’t help but tease him with it. You look him dead in the eyes and begin to lick the ice lolly up and down, slowly letting the juices fall down your chin. You don’t care what you look like it’s got his attention, that’s all you need. You pop the sweet treat into your mouth and start sucking it hard, a moan escaping now and then. Dmitri is hypnotised by you. Sure he’s a little confused as this is a very forward gesture but he feels flattered as your young enough to be his daughter. However this doesn’t stop him watching you suck on your ice lolly. The juices are running all down your hand, chin and neck. It starts to leave a sticky trail down to your breasts. You stop sucking as the ice lolly breaks in your mouth taking you by surprise. You are a hot horny sticky mess. You want this man in front of you. You don’t care you’ve just met him you need him. You crave him. His eyes still haven’t left you yet. You see his ice lolly melting in his hands, he hadn’t realised until you lean over and start to lick the fallen juices off his wrist leading up to his fingers. His lips part as you then put his ice lolly in your mouth and take it in whole. Your glad Dmitri has parked away in a far away corner where no one else is. You take the ice lolly out of your mouth and sit up looking him straight in the eyes.

You’re not sure who moved in first but your lips crash into one another. A wet and fierce kiss. Your kisses are sloppy and sticky but he doesn’t care. He must have you also. He brings one hand to your cheek to pull you closer and the other into your hair. Your hands reach across to his hair scratching his scalp. Dmitri pulls you by your hair harshly causing you to let out a loud moan. ‘You are trouble, aren’t you Y/N?’ Before you can answer he his leaving hot kisses down your jaw and neck, biting into the tender skin not caring if he marks it. ‘God Dmitri, I need you inside of me now!’ You moan as the kisses continue, you pull his hair making him moan into your neck. You can’t stand the waiting so you climb over to sit on his lap. You’re turn to mark his neck up, you sink your teeth into his neck. He is a mumbling mess under you. He bucks his hips up and you can feel his bulge under your shorts.

‘Dmitri, I need you’ whispering into his ear. Your hands making their way down to unzip his shorts and unzip yours and taking them off. Once they are both unzipped you move your bikini bottoms to the side before your take Dmitri’s dick out his boxers his hand comes up and move his finger up and down your slit, feeling how wet you are. ‘Блядь’ (fuck) he mutters to himself. He continues rubbing his fingers up and down, it feels incredible but you need his dick right now. You take his fingers off your wet slits and put them into your mouth, tasting your own sweet juices. ‘You are very naughty Y/N, no?’ He says as he stares in ore of you. ‘I’ve only just met you but I know I can not let you go’ he says and brings you in for a passionate kiss. Tongues swirling around one another, you are so into the kiss you don’t notice Dmitri take out his dick, line it in your entrance and push into your throbbing hole. You moan loudly as you feel his dick stretch you out. You sit just for a minute enjoying the feeling of being full, you have never felt someone so big. ‘Блядь (fuck) you are so tight, not had a real man no?’ You shake you head as you start to move back and forth on him. Causing him to let out a moan, it’s the sexiest thing you’ve ever heard. As you rock your body back and forth on his dick, Dmitri grabs your waist and digs his fingers, you don’t care if there is marks. ‘Dimitri’ you moan as you move faster, you clit brushing along him. Dmitri leans forward and takes your bikini top off, bringing your breast into his mouth. Licking you the sticky juices from the ice lolly then he takes your nipple making it hard. His other hand comes up and twists your other nipple between his fingers. You moan louder. You have never been played with so good. You can already feel your orgasm approaching, you really don’t want this to end. ‘Блядь (fuck) Y/N I can feel your close, cum for me. Cum all over me.’ You’ve never rode someone so fast before. With Dmitri’s words and him sucking your nipple you orgasm washes over you as you cum all over Dmitri’s dick. You don’t stop once you’ve finished, your over stimulating yourself but man it feels good. ‘Cum in me Dmitri, I want to feel you daddy’ you moan loudly. You calling him daddy pushes him over the edge and you can feel his hot lines of cum shooting up in you. Not the best idea but you don’t care. You scream as you cum again onto his dick. Hot, sweaty and breathless you rest you foreheads on one another. ‘Well that was unexpected’ Dmitri says causing you to blush. Being this close you never realised how handsome he was. ‘You better get use to it daddy, there is plenty more where that came from’ you whispered to him. His dick flinches in your hole at your words. ‘I can not wait малышка’ (baby girl) He leans in to give a kiss, not as hot and heavy but still just as passionate.

‘We best get back, the kids will not be happy if they don’t have their ice cream’ you say slowly pulling yourself off of Dmitri. You find some tissues in the car and clean yourselves you. You put back on your bikini top and shorts, Dmitri tucks himself back in and pulls his shorts up. You try to fix how you look but there seems to be no point as you notice a hickey on your neck. You let your hair down despite the heat just to try cover it somehow. The drive back you and Dmitri chatting about causal stuff, just life in general. His hand resting on your bare thigh and your hand on top. When you get back you realise the ice creams are rather melted so you quickly put them into the freezer. Dmitri gives you a heart warming smile and a quick pat on the but before walking away to help Hop and Murray. Luckily no one noticed how long you two were really gone for. You walk back over to your sun lounger take off yours shorts and decide to cool off in the pool. Dmitri is having a hard time not staring at your body. As you float you are in happy thoughts. You can’t stop thinking of how Dmitri’s body felt against yours, the way he looked at you, the way he spoke to you, the way he made you feel. Your thoughts are disrupted by a but head splashing you. ‘Hey, you had fun then?’ Eddie asks with a wiggle of the eyebrows. You look over at him, ‘what ever do you mean Edward?’ ‘Well I’m no expert sweetheart but I don’t think our Russian friend did that to his neck.’ He says smugly and swims off. You look over to Dmitri and realise you’re not the only one with a hickey. You smile to yourself, let’s just wait and see till everyone else notices.

#stranger things #stranger things smut #Smut #dmitri antonov fanfic #dmitri antonov x reader #enzo stranger things #enzo x reader #eddie munson #joyce byers #ice lolly #dmitri stranger things

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korkiekenobiconfirmed · 2 years

Text

Sidelines are for sports games, not characters of color

I want to address the somewhat awful job ST has done with its POC characters not just in Vol 2, but over the course of the show. I've done a similar post talking about the queer rep in the show if you want to check that out.

I'm gonna start with Lucas, who's been sidelined from the beginning. I get this is rural Indiana in the 80's and you wouldn't expect a whole ton of POC characters fine fine fine whatever. But if you're going to include exactly one (1) POC main, you better hope to god you do a good job with that character. Look at S1 -- Will was central to the plot in a major way (duh), Mike was huge in pushing everyone to find Will and was well-defined by his close relationship with him, and Dustin's intelligence set him apart even in a group full of so-called nerds. What did Lucas get to distinguish him in any particular way? Nothing much. Even moving into S2 his character remained distinctly less fleshed out than the others

One part of S1 I did very much like, however, was this scene. I thought it was a great way to address the kind of casual racism that people who grow up with privilege can often display, even unintentionally.

Mike and Lucas had both showed up to school dressed as the ghostbuster Venkman and Mike tried to argue that Lucas should be Winston Zeddemore. Lucas pointed out that Mike only said that because Zeddemore was black, and he didn't want to be Zeddemore because he, like so many black characters in film, wasn't as interesting or influential as many of the white mains.

Ironically, a similar fate ended up befalling Lucas. He began to be drawn more into the spotlight in S2 and S3, but it was more in reference to his relationship with Max than anything else. Listen, I love Lumax (their relationship outclasses Mileven by a mile, argue with the wall) but Lucas needing a relationship with a white character in order to gain real traction within the show and the fandom is pretty fucking shitty.

S4 finally put Lucas' character on par with the others in terms of screentime, lines, and fandom attention, and the Duffers managed this oh-so-impressive feat through the power of... basketball. Come on, I mean really?

Yes, from what we've seen basketball is the fastest path to popularity in Hawkins High (Steve, Billy, Tommy H, Jason) but to make the only black character suddenly a basketball star when he's shown zero interest or athletic ability up until now... it doesn't sit right with me, let's put it that way.

Erica falls into similar black stereotyping as Lucas. We see little development for her over the seasons and from the first moment she's on-screen she's very much the Sassy Black Girl. There's nothing wrong with characters displaying stereotyped traits as long as you can give them other characteristics that define them beyond the typical fallbacks. If your character is essentially reduced to that stereotype, however, it's a problem. All we know of Erica, beyond her never-ending supply of clapbacks and sarcasm, is that she likes DND and My Little Pony. 90% of her lines are full of sass, no matter who she's talking to, and while it's entertaining at times (her calling Murray a bald bastard was funny as hell lmaoo) it can quickly get old. Erica's not the worst black rep I've ever seen, not by a long shot, but the Duffers definitely could've done better with her.

[Having the only black female character also be a staunchly avowed capitalist feels a little weird to me, but I honestly don't have a way to properly articulate why so I'm not going to go into that rn. Maybe in a later post.]

Watching Vol 2 was a crazy fucking experience for a lot of reasons, but watching Jason and his little basketball cult fully beat up black kids significantly younger than them was... really something. A mostly-grown guy full on rugby tackling a middle school girl with aggression that far outweighed the situation...

You can't tell me there wasn't racial motivation there, but the situation really wasn't handled that way on-screen. It wasn't filmed to really make the audience think about the kind of aggressions (micro or otherwise) that black kids in bumfuck Indiana would experience. It wasn't addressed as racially-motivated. It wasn't addressed at all, actually. Thanks to the racist implications of that moment (and, in fact, the racist implications of Jason's entire attitude towards Lucas & Erica) never being addressed ever, the whole scene came across as more gratuitous violence than anything. I'm not saying the show needs to hold the audience's hand and look in their eyes and spell out J-A-S-O-N = R-A-C-I-S-T, but the S1 Zeddemore scene proved there are ways to intertwine talks about racism into the script, ways to address problems like xenophobia without making it stilted or shoehorned in.

When you show the brutal beating of black children and then move on too quickly for the audience to fully process what happened, it takes away from the heavier implications of such violence.

Moving on from the Sinclairs, we have Kali.

I liked her character very much, I'm going to be honest. The way she embodied El's angrier, more violent inner voices, with El's return to Hawkins representing her turning her back on that side of her while never truly facing up to it, made her an excellent lens for the audience to see more of El than what we got in S1.

But brown women in media too-often fall into one of two categories.

the docile, meek woman who comes from a patriarchal culture and will always defer to the men in her life, even when it goes against her own desires and dreams

The angry, probably violent woman who rages against the world because she has been wronged in the past

Again, a brown character being one of these two things isn't necessarily bad, but when we're left room for little else around all the resentment Kali's built up? When there's almost no middle ground between the two extremes?? Let's not rely on the old stereotypes over and over and over again, please.

...

...Did someone say stereotypes? Oh hang on wait it looks like we have another one. I once again feel the need to establish that this is not hate on the character himself, Argyle was legitimately one of the best parts of the California group and I love him with my whole entire heart (& also Eduardo Franco deserves so much better from this shitty fandom).

But the first Latine character on the show being a stoner? That's the best y'all could come up with?? Argyle was funny, he was useful to the plot, and he was a nice foil for the often-serious characters he's surrounded by, but all that being said, I couldn't quite get rid of the nagging irk in the back of my mind every time he was on screen because the stoner Latine character??? At this point, all the blatantly stereotyped characters just make this shit boring and predictable. I don't even have anything new to say about Argyle because it's nothing I didn't just address in terms of Erica, Lucas & Kali.

I feel like the treatment of ST's queer and POC characters is definitely different. We see constant abuse and mistreatment of queer characters without getting any outwardly, happily-queer endings for them; with the POC characters it strikes me more as the typical sidelining and stereotyping that we see in a lot of mainstream media. I'm not going to sit here and argue over which is worse or which is more harmful to audiences, they're both shitty and I'm tired of it all.

Do better.

#stranger things #stranger things meta #lucas sinclair #erica sinclar #argyle stranger things #kali prasad #will beyers #mike wheeler #steve harrington #nancy wheeler #el hopper #eddie munson

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