Into Darkness Bring Light

            Currently bathing in the warm serotonin buzz of Eddie Munson love.            25 * she / her * 18+blog * minors DNI

[orpheusredux]

The Masterpost to end all Masterposts

My L'il Eddie Munson Recs List

All the fics I've fallen in love with lately

My L'il Eddie Munson Fic List

All the fics I've been compelled against my will to write because of Eddie Munson.

[eddies-ashtray]

♡ meet cute.

There’s this alcove out behind the school. It’s deserted and quiet, right around the corner from the outside door to the woodshop. You can normally count on it being empty, a shaded refuge when you need a break during the school day. A secret place to slip away to when things get to be too much.

Once, Daniel Adams was there throwing wood scraps in the dumpster just before the bell signalling the end of second period. But he didn’t disturb you, just went back inside without a second glance. Other than that, it always lacked a population. 

Until today. 

When you round the corner, you see the trade off clear as day; a small pouch of white powder transferred from a heavily ringed hand being swapped for a thick wad of cash. 

The guy receiving the pouch slips it into his jeans pocket before he sees you. Then his green eyes make contact with yours and he books it back down the alley before crashing through the door to the shop. Subtle.

The guy with the cash is left there alone, but seemingly unperturbed by his customers sudden exit. You imagine you might run away too, if you were buying ketamine right behind your school at 11am on a Tuesday. 

You recognize him before his curly head whips around to locate the source of alarm. What other guy at Hawkins High has chipped black nail polish and avoids barbershops? More importantly, who else sells drugs at your school? Eddie’s got that job dominated. 

“Shit.” Is all he says when he spots you there. His tone is flat, deadpan. 

You ignore him in favour of sitting cross-legged on the pavement, gravel crunching beneath your soles before you press your back against cold brick. 

You just want him to go away. To be alone. 

Staring down at your scuffed Chucks, you begin to pull at a loose thread at the bottom of your frayed pant leg, winding it around the tip of your index finger until it turns white, then unwinding it so the blood comes rushing back with warmth. 

When you hear his heavy footfalls, you think maybe your luck hasn’t run out and he might be leaving. But the crunching of gravel does not recede down the alleyway.

Black Doc Martens enter your vision. You stop pulling at the loose thread and stare at the boots for a second before your gaze meanders up to his face. 

“Please don’t tell anyone, alright?” Eddie’s tone is non-threatening and hopeful. 

“Wasn’t gonna.” You shrug, couldn’t care less about the drug habits of the people you go to school with. Or how they acquire said drugs. Who would you tell anyway? The cops? Fuck that. 

Despite the confirmation of your silence Eddie stays put, feet shuffling across gravel, rocks scraping beneath the thick soles. 

You avert your gaze, will your voice not to break when you say, “Will you please just go?” But it betrays you, cracking just slightly on the final syllable. As your teeth dig into your bottom lip, you hope he doesn’t notice. 

Eyes burning and staring intently at a triangle-shaped pebble, you hold your breath, think, don’t say it, don’t say it, please don’t say it. 

“Are you okay?” 

Fuck.

Unwillingly, your face crumples and you bury it in your hands, face warming from being watched as you break down. Tears stream down your face silently, thick and hot as they wet your palms and slide down your wrists. 

There’s the crunch of gravel again, but he isn’t walking away like you expected anyone might. Who’d want to stick around with a stranger having an emotional breakdown? 

But then you feel warmth at your side as he crouches down and leans against the wall beside you, nearly shoulder-to-shoulder. 

Any remaining energy you had has been spent on your short exchange with him, so you have none left to plead with him anymore. But as the tears keep coming and your shoulders keep shaking, you find that you don’t mind his presence so much. He doesn’t touch you or invade your space in any way, doesn’t ask why you’re crying or try to stop it. 

Eddie just sits with you. Stares out at the swaying trees in the forest beyond the school and silently sits. Even though your skin isn’t touching it’s like he’s holding your hand. 

While you never bought into any of the rumours you’d heard whispered about him in the corridors, you were never completely sure of his kindness. Though now you see he wears his eccentricities as armour. It seems Eddie is softer than the tough iron of his armor would suggest. 

His motives now are clear: he doesn’t want to leave you alone in the state you’re in. Which is more kindness than anyone at this school has ever shown you. 

In actuality, it’s the most attention anyone at this school has ever shown you. Unlike Eddie, you’re mostly just ignored, left alone. Eddie isn’t going to let that happen now. 

The pair of you are probably quite the sight. And not just because you’re openly sobbing next to him. The Freak and the Loner Girl. If you were seen together you’re sure your bored peers would have some more rumours to spread. 

When your tears dry up and you’re left with a snotty nose and dry eyes, you look out at the forest in silence with him. Staring out blanky at the shedding foliage, your breathing slows and the wind whistles. The wind kissing your cheeks is strangely comforting. Or maybe it’s just Eddie. 

In your periphery, you see him shift as he pulls his ringed hand out of the pocket of his jacket. Eddie–who you’ve only just noticed smells really good, like leather and fresh rain–shoves his hand beneath the leather to dig around in an inside pocket. 

For one silly, brief moment you think he might be about to offer you a small pouch of white powder. 

Then he pulls his hand out. It’s a tissue. 

Eddie Munson is offering you a tissue. 

The metalhead keeps tissues in his jacket. And drugs. But also tissues. 

Looking from the tissue to him, Eddie gives you a soft reassuring smile. You take it from him gingerly. “Thank you.” 

Eddie nods shortly. “Yeah.”

“You, um, you didn’t have to sit with me,” you say once you’ve wiped your nose clean, looking at him fully for the first time since you broke down. His eyes are so dark. You’ve never been close enough to notice until now. 

“I know.” A beat of silence follows his sweet sincerity where all you can hear is the sound of the trees gently whooshing in the wind. “But I’ve seen you around. You’re alone a lot.” 

“Oh.” He’s seen you around? 

“You don’t deserve to be, by the way,” he adds quickly. “Especially not…now.” 

You look away with a small smile and a soft breath through your nose. Though his delivery is a little awkward, the sentiment causes warmth to flood your chest. 

“Right,” you reply, chuckling a little as you meet his eyes again. When he smiles this time, a dimple pops into his cheek. Pretty eyes and dimples?

Smacking his thighs resolutely, Eddie pushes himself up off the pavement to stand in front of you, offers you his hand. You stare up at him, your own hands twitching in your lap, buzzing with anticipation. 

“C’mon,” Eddie prompts, nodding his head to the side. “Let’s go.” 

“Where?” 

“Anywhere you wanna go.” 

Drawing your lip into your mouth, you chew on it contemplatively. 

You don’t have to think long about your answer. Why on Earth would you stay here and wallow when this sweet, kind boy with melted chocolate for eyes is offering you his hand?

[eddies-ashtray]

FLUFF

♡ eddie loses a ring & you find it

♡ eddie clears out a drawer in his room for you

♡ surprising eddie with a tidy bedroom

♡ eddie cooks for you, but burns the food

♡ you bite eddie’s arm

♡ eddie when you have seasonal allergies

♡ eddie draws for you a lot. you get one tattooed

♡ the first “i love you’s” with eddie

♡ best friend eddie pines for you

♡ eddie is sick & you take care of him

♡ you’re each others favourite person

♡ eddie distracts you while doing homework

♡ a perfect moment with eddie

♡ eddie learns a new song

♡ you’re drunk & eddie helps you get ready for bed

♡ eddie holds you after a rough day

♡ eddie’s had a crush on you for years

♡ getting ready for bed with eddie

♡ eddie is finally graduating & you & wayne have a surprise for him

♡ napping in eddie’s room

♡ meet cute

short & sweet (fluffy mini blurbs & thoughts)

• the 30th

• eddie’s jean chain

• your necklace

• eddie says “i love you” first

• horror movies with eddie

• eddie’s love language

• eddie loves taking care of you

• the ring on eddie’s right hand

• eddie when you have insomnia

• there’s something in your teeth, eddie gets it out

• eddie is your weighted blanket

• you paint your nails eddie’s favourite colour

• riding bikes with eddie

• drunk eddie thoughts

• eddie wears glasses; you think he looks pretty

• eddie brushes his teeth after he smokes

• coworker eddie x receptionist reader

• summer nights with eddie

• eddie believes in ghosts (headcanon)

• eddie at the community pool

• eddie buys a mini water gun (hc)

• eddie learns magic tricks

ཐི༏ཋྀ󠀮

[jo-harrington]

Eddie Munson's Day Off

This can be read as a standalone but the appearance of Sally Gutierrez makes this an AU of @dr-aculaaa's Saturday Night/Sunday Morning series.

Summary: It's 1994. Our favorite quartet live in Chicago and do their best to leave their experiences in Hawkins and the Upside Down in the past. And in the spirit of moving on, self-proclaimed heavy metal god Eddie Munson has a brilliant idea: taking a day off.

Word Count: 3.8k

Warnings/Themes: Friendship, Angst, Trauma, Fluff, Angst, Everyone Lives/Upside Down Defeated AU, Various References to Movies and Television, Comedy, Meet Cute

Note: HAPPY BIRTHDAY to one of the loves of my fandom life, the gloriously talented @dr-aculaaa. Another year of life, another year of friendship, another year of YOU. I'm so honored to know you and share this fandom space with you. Thank you for all of your fics that bring myself and so many others so much comfort, all of your art that I don't even have words to appreciate properly. You deserve the world, but all I have to give is this fic.

You can find my masterlist here and Drac's wonderful Saturday Night series here.

Please do not interact if you are not 18+.

Enjoy!

May 1994

It all started after their bi-weekly movie night.

And it was Steve's week to choose, so that meant that this was his fault. Not Eddie's. Not in the slightest.

"Pardon my French but you're an asshole," Steve quoted snarkily into the receiver as he scanned in returns. "Asshole."

"Come on Harrington," Eddie scoffed on the other end. "You can't make us sit through Ferris Bueller's Day Off and not expect me to have a brilliant idea."

The thought did pass through Steve's mind when he'd shoved the tape into the VCR from amongst the haul that he'd brought home from Family Video. Maybe not the thought, but a thought that his friend would get some kind of idea from the spieling, silly high schooler.

Playing hooky had never crossed his mind, though.

"You're a loose cannon, Ed," Steve replied and then adjusted the receiver where it was cradled between his ear and his shoulder.

"Just like Bueller the Bard himself."

But the call had come on a boring Wednesday afternoon as Steve covered the floor while his coworker was at lunch, and he had listened to Eddie's ranting and raving about his perfect idea for their little friend group without an opportunity to object until Eddie was already asking if he was in.

In hindsight, Steve should've realized that something like this was bound to happen eventually. He hadn't realized how much of a secret fan of John Hughes' movies Eddie was until the metalhead was mouthing along to the movie as they watched. Turns out, during his recovery post-Vecna, he'd developed a taste for the popular teen films.

Talk about conformity.

"How can you expect us all to get a day off work on such short notice?" Steve ignored Eddie's previous statement.

"Well, I'm planning on calling in sick," Eddie explained. "And I already got Rob and Nance on board. That just leaves our very own Cameron Frye."

"I'm not Cameron."

"You most certainly are," Eddie chuckled haughtily. "Rich parents, fancy cars. Come on Steve. It's one day. Call in. Pretend you're sick. Shit, say your grandma died."

"Oh, like Nancy's not already using that excuse?" Steve asked.

"Bold of you to assume that Nancy is Sloane."

"We aren't characters in a movie, Eddie!"

"That's exactly what Cameron Frye would say."

Steve shouted unintelligibly and then slammed the receiver back onto the cradle repeatedly, effectively hanging up with Eddie...and scaring the customer that was about to walk in.

Despite Steve's initial protests, he still called in sick to work and showed up at Eddie's apartment alongside Nancy and Robin early Friday morning.

None of them really knew what to expect; this was Eddie's scheme, not theirs.

Robin and Nancy had taken what little they knew about the assignment to heart though. They'd dug through their closets for old clothes that felt more appropriate as homage to the movie--outfits that certainly threw Steve back into 1986.

Permed hair and textured fabrics. Nancy had an old fringe jacket that looked like it belonged to Sloane Peterson, shoulder pads and all. Robin went with more of a Ferris vibe and found a sweater vest that almost looked like his.

Steve, however, remained a stick in the mud and wore his typical casual attire: a polo and blue jeans.

A classic.

Of course, Steve had expected Eddie to be in his usual metalhead regalia. Upon seeing the others, he'd had a joke ready on his tongue for when Eddie opened the door with his leather jacket on--

"You supposed to be Charlie Sheen, Ed?"

--only for Eddie to appear in an almost exact replica of Ferris' red-and-grey striped bath robe. He would get dressed in his 1986 best when they were ready to leave.

"Come on," Eddie whined at Steve as he waved them inside. "What are you wearing? You weren't even gonna break out your old Red Wings jersey?"

"I'm not a Red Wings fan," Steve snarked.

"You could've asked for my jersey from field hockey," Robin interjected. “It looks like a red wings jersey.”

"I don't think a community college field hockey team would've been appropriate Rob.''

He just hadn't thought that dressing up would be important.

"Well," Eddie began, hands held out innocently as he interrupted their spat. "I knew you'd be apprehensive about the whole thing, so I got one for you. Consider it an early birthday present."

"If it makes you feel any better," Steve sighed as he pushed past Eddie. "I did sit in my car and debate showing up for a good half-an-hour before I came here.”

"That's our Cameron," Eddie patted Steve's shoulder and then began telling the others his plan for the day.

There would be no going with the flow, no taking it easy, they were gonna relive the movie scene for scene if he had anything to say about it.

Zooming around Chicago to see the sights, a Cubs game, lunch at a nice restaurant, and finally the Art Institute for silent contemplation of color and form.

"Unfortunately there's no parade," Eddie pouted after he showed them how he'd modified Jeff's Cassio to play coughs and sneezes. "But, I'm happy to sing a metal cover of Danke Schoen in a private concert for the three of you when we go swimming at my buddy Joe's pool later this afternoon."

"You're not allowed to have a mental breakdown dingus," Robin stage-whispered in Steve's ear.

"Just as long as you guys don't total my car," Steve grumbled, knowing that he would be providing the wheels as none of them had access to a red Ferrari.

"You've really thought of everything Eddie." Nancy joked. "Have you called old Principal Higgins to chase us around the city too?"

"Ha ha," Eddie deadpanned and stuck his tongue out at her.

Steve watched as his three friends chatted and bickered excitedly over this idea and that, and he couldn't help the smile that bloomed on his face.

While he wasn't exactly jumping for joy at the plans, it was nice to hang around his friends again in such a lighthearted way.

"Alright!" Steve shouted, causing the others heads to turn towards him in shock. He blanched under their scrutiny but cleared his throat and stood up, hands on his hips. "Are we gonna hit the road? Or are we just gonna talk about the great time we're supposed to have?"

Eddie clapped his hands and snapped his fingers and then closed the distance so he could grab Steve's keys from his pocket.

"I was serious about the not totaling my car thing," Steve reprimanded.

"Wouldn't dream of it," Eddie nodded.

"Now, where's that hockey jersey?"

They cruised down Lake Shore Drive with the windows down and the music playing loudly; Eddie had made the perfect mixtape that suited all of their tastes.

"In 1930, the Republican-controlled House of Representatives," he droned in a poor impersonation of Ben Stein. "In an effort to alleviate the effects of the...anyone? Anyone?"

"Shut up and drive, doofus," Robin cackled and swatted at Eddie's head from the backseat.

It was the perfect day for a baseball game.

Actually, just perfect altogether.

75 and sunny, not a cloud in the sky.

Eddie couldn't have picked a better day to take off, and he thought of everything.

Even their goddamn seats were perfect.

"My dad got us tickets to see the Cubs once," Steve regaled them with a story as Eddie waved the hotdog vendor over. "And even he couldn't get us seats this good."

"I know it's not the seats they had in the movie," Eddie grinned as he passed a dog over to Steve. "But what can I say? I'm pretty great."

They all had a good time.

Steve was an avid baseball fan and had even played on the varsity team back at Hawkins High. He explained the plays to the others, and even found himself jumping to his feet to cheer along with the crowd when the Cubs made a triple play.

Eddie, who couldn't be caught dead at a sporting event unless his uncle was in tow, enjoyed the snacks and the cheap beer and the generally upbeat atmosphere. He listened to Steve's explanations and tried to cheer along with the others.

Even Nancy and Robin, who weren't the biggest baseball fans, admitted--once they had beers in their hands and a soft pretzel to share--that they had fun.

"You know Mike and Lucas are gonna be so jealous," Nancy laughed. "They always ask if I can get them tickets when they're in town."

"Those little nerds? Seriously?" Robin questioned.

"They used to play little league way back when," Nancy nodded. "They weren't very good but I think it's the only sport either of them really kept up with. Until Lucas joined the basketball team."

And in true Ferris Bueller fashion, Robin had to start the call of "Hey Battah Battah Battah, Sahwing Battah Battah!" as the visiting team went up to bat.

"He can't hit, he can't hit, he can't hit, he can't hit," Nancy continued.

"Sah-wing Battah!" They all concluded in tandem before they fell into a fit of giggles.

It was during lunch that the day started to take a bit of a turn.

For Steve, at least.

"Alright," Nancy began as they arrived at their destination: a restaurant that was definitely out of their budget on a regular day, but today was a special one and they all could afford this one-time treat. "It's not Chez Quis, but this was the best reservation I could get on short notice."

Working for the Chicago Tribune had its perks, which both Nancy and Eddie took advantage of on behalf of their Day Off.

"Shhh," Eddie scolded. "Don't tell them that. I was supposed to plan this whole thing."

"Not such a hot shot after all," Robin quipped.

"At least I made the reservation under Froman," Nancy patted the metalhead's shoulder apologetically.

They ordered the lunch specials with an array of sandwiches on Turano sourdough, and hearty soups, and house-made potato chips. It was all rich food that soaked up the beers that they'd probably over-indulged in at Wrigley, as they sat and caught up on each others' lives.

"I'm up for a promotion at work," Nancy announced excitedly. "All that hard work and those late nights paid off."

"Well, I think I found a new apartment," Robin added on.

"You didn't tell me!" Nancy exclaimed.

"I was gonna surprise you," Robin shrugged. "And it's not like the place is really ours yet."

"Well the band is officially unofficially going on tour next month," Eddie surprised them with good news of his own. "I, uh, didn't think we were sharing things like that today so I was saving it til next week."

They all chattered over one another as Steve sat there taking it all in.

Each word a knife to his heart.

Steve had been the first one to disappear from Hawkins in favor of the Windy City after everything with Vecna in '86.

They'd all been broken in some ways--mind, body, spirit--and he just needed to get out. He'd had a choice back then, to escape to the city where he would be a faceless stranger, or to disappear into isolation of his family's old cabin up at the lake; both guaranteed him time alone, but he'd been driven to the city by ease of access to his friends.

And it might've taken a little while, but the others all followed suit and moved to the city too.

For a while, it was nice being a short drive or train ride away from his friends.

Of course, life got in the way.

School for Nancy and Robin, work for him, odd-jobs and music for Eddie. Recovery for all of them. Years passed and they simultaneously grew closer and further apart. Weekly movie nights turned bi-weekly, then there was always someone missing.

This unexpected outing together...well, it warmed Steve's heart.

They were all together, where he could protect them.

But as the others celebrated each other's triumphs, Steve slowly realized that while he'd been the first to escape Hawkins and find a new life, he was the last of his friends to actually live that life.

He was still at Family Video--a manager now, not just a key holder--and still drove the same car. He had no thoughts about the future, no ambitions. Hell, he'd renewed his lease for the same shitty studio apartment he'd lived in since he arrived in Chicago almost 8 years ago.

It was reliable and safe.

Now he realized, as he sat there amidst his friends' triumphs as they didn't even bother to look at him for something new and exciting, that it was boring.

He was boring.

Maybe he really was Cameron Frye.

He was still caught up in his contemplation when they arrived at the Art Institute.

The big, romanesque building was full of thoughts and inspirations from all over the world, but it was easier to get stuck in the sad little world that he'd built for himself in his head at lunch, than it was to get lost in layers of paints or sculpted bronze.

"I told you not to have a mental breakdown," Robin told him after she'd found him staring at the paper map he'd taken in the lobby, instead of any of the exhibits. "Talk to me, what's going on?"

"Nothing," Steve sniffed, and then tucked the map into his back pocket. He couldn't tell Robin and bring her down; this was a problem of his own making, and it was something he needed to work out on his own too.

"Let's go look at some paintings," he insisted.

Although they weren't in the actual movie, and the galleries were mostly silent, The Smiths' Please, Please, Please Let Me Get What I Want continually played in Steve's head as they went from one room to the next.

What did he want? He wasn't sure.

They walked through the Miniatures Room and he looked at all of the tiny replicas of houses and interiors, and he wondered if he should be an architect. Could he go to college now? Was it too late? The city was always growing; he could certainly design a skyscraper!

And then they strolled through the Modern wing, and saw works by Dali, and as he felt his mind melt along with the surrealist clocks, he thought that he could be a psychologist of some sorts and reshape people's minds after they melted. Of course, that required more schooling than an architect; hmmm...that was a conundrum, wasn't it?

Maybe he would just be a wristwatch salesman instead. Or a grandfather clock repairman?

Of course, none of these things inspired the idea of becoming an artist; he just wasn't an art guy. He didn't understand what these things meant. To him, they were just things. A clock was a clock and a building was a building.

Nothing inspired any further contemplation, no thoughts or feelings.

He didn't even feel anything when he stared at the Seurat that Cameron Frye had his own internal spiral in front of, like he hoped he would.

Until he found himself in front of a massive painting, Hercules and the Lernaean Hydra.

And he started crying.

He didn't know why, really. He just did.

It wasn't a beautiful painting, to him. In fact, it was pretty bleak. Dark colors and hopelessness. Dead body in the corners and a multi-headed monster that Hercules had to face alone. Steve supposed it reminded him of his and his friends' trials in the Upside Down but...it didn't strike any sort of fear in him.

Only a deep...sorrow.

"This one made me cry the first time I saw it too," a voice came from Steve's side.

He cleared his throat and wiped the back of his hand across one eye with some shame, before a tissue was thrust before him.

He turned his head and found a woman, conspicuously looking up at the painting instead of at him to give him some privacy amidst this unexpected public show of emotion.

"Th-thanks," he spoke hoarsely and then took the tissue to dab at his tears. When he'd composed himself enough he continued. "Wh-why did this one make you cry?"

"Oh," the woman let out a throaty laugh and turned her head to him to shoot a gentle smile his way. "That's still a mystery, but I think if you're gonna have an existential crisis in front of a painting, this one is a good one to have it in front of."

She turned back to the painting and explained some things about it to Steve--the darkness and the light, the tension between good and evil, the uncertain outcome of the battle that Hercules would inevitably have to face even though the observers would never witness it--and the more she spoke, the more Steve was able to understand.

He saw himself in that painting, whether he realized it at first or not. The old him, back in Hawkins facing down literal monsters. And himself now, facing metaphorical ones.

"Of course," the woman continued and pointed to the plaque beside the painting. "Art is subjective. That's my interpretation of it. That says it's a political painting symbolizing war concerns in 19th Century France."

"Was that during the French Revolution?" Steve asked, thinking back to the World History class he had senior year.

"That's the 18th century, I think," she offered.

"Got it. You know what? I always get the numbers mixed up."

"I do too. You were close enough."

They chuckled in tandem.

"Well, I could definitely use a tour guide like you if I want to make heads or tails of anything in this place," Steve offered a compliment. "I've been struggling with it since I got here."

He looked around the room--his friends were nowhere to be found--then back at the woman. She still held that gentle expression, lips upturned in a smile and Steve felt a bubble of butterflies in his stomach as that smile grew wider and caused her freckle-dusted cheeks to become rounder and more pronounced.

"Well," she cleared her throat, "I could show you a couple of my other favorites on this floor. I was on my way to go and see them, actually, and snap a few pictures."

He finally noticed the small Minolta hanging from the strap around her neck.

"I don't want to intrude," he held his hands out in front of him, trying to refuse her offer politely.

"No, it's no intrusion, if I was already going to go," she shook her head. "Besides, I like to tout my superior knowledge over the ignorant."

Steve scoffed and chuckled, "I wouldn't say ignorant."

"Alright mister," she folded her arms over her chest. "Then I'll show you my favorites and we'll see how you interpret them, before I tell you what they really mean."

"I thought art was subjective."

"Oh we have a witty one, folks. I hope you know the rest of your history better than you know about the 18th century."

"I'm actually really good at history," Steve announced boastfully.

Actually, history was one of those things that he knew a ton about. Maybe he could be a history teacher or something some day.

"Let's go then, smarty pants," his new friend announced.

She turned and walked towards the next room with Steve hot on her heels. She turned and glanced at him over her shoulder; her eyes roamed up and down his body for a second and Steve felt his cheeks get warm.

"I'm Sally, by the way," she finally introduced herself.

"Hi Sally," he greeted. "I'm Steve."

After the Art Institute, they'd gone to Eddie's buddy's place out in the suburbs for a dip in the pool, before it got late and they called it a day. They'd dropped Robin and Nancy off then headed back to Eddie's.

"What'd you think Harrington?" Eddie grinned expectantly as he and Steve got out of the car.

"It was pretty cool," Steve shrugged.

"Pretty cool?!" Eddie exclaimed, tossing his hands in the air. "Pretty cool, he says, when he got some girl's number. You know, you wouldn't have gotten it if we hadn't have gone. When was the last time you went on a date Steve? Huh?"

"What do you want me to say?" Steve laughed at his friend's antics. "'Oh thank you, oh great Eddie, for having this brilliant idea. I had the best day of my life?'"

"Yes."

"Well it's not gonna happen."

"Save it for your wedding day then," Eddie mocked and stuck his tongue out.

"Uh huh." There was a beat before Steve continued. "It was a good day off, though, Eddie. I think I really needed it. More than I realized. Thanks for making us have one."

"Thanks for coming along," Eddie said in return.

He handed the keys to the car back to their rightful owner and clapped Steve on the shoulder. He was about to head into his building when Steve called out to him.

"You know what?" Steve asked.

"What?"

"I think Ferris got one thing right."

"Oh yeah?" Eddie grinned. "I thought you were staunchly against Mr. Bueller's antics."

"Yeah well," Steve shrugged. "A broken clock is always right twice a day."

"And what was he right about?"

Steve thought about the day for a moment. About all of the places they went and things they saw. The thoughts and feelings and people. A whole world that was out there that he never thought about until that day.

A whole person he never would've met if he hadn't gone out with his friends.

He looked back at Eddie and smiled.

"'Life moves pretty fast. If you don't stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it.'"

Eddie walked out of the bathroom and into the communal space of the apartment.

It had been a long day. A good one, but a long one nonetheless, and he started to wonder if he was getting too old for these kinds of shenanigans. But goddamn it! He was still young! Not even thirty!

Still, he couldn't do these hours-long adventures around the city. His muscles were sore and his brain practically mush.

He'd lit up as soon as he'd gotten home and now he was ready to stretch out on the couch and let himself melt into relaxation.

And he was about to when he noticed...

You.

You sat on the other side of that screen and stared at him. You sat there and read these words.

He blinked twice then he sighed.

"You're still here?" he asked you and took a few steps closer. "Come on, I know that we're trying to recreate the full Ferris Bueller experience but it's over. Go home."

You continued reading.

"Go!" he waved you away dismissively and then fell onto the couch with a groan. "Go!"

You scrolled down to the end of the post.

bum bum. chick. chicka chicka.

[storiesbyrhi]

It took me so long to get to this but it was so worth it. This is pulled off with expert precision. Also, the faux Tumblr post ending?>???fjshfnkahfkaf GENIUS

[orpheusredux]

Absolutely priceless!

[ceriseheaven]

what are you doing out here with all this ass?

[orpheusredux]

Please call me an ambulance.

[russianblush]

First Look at The Fantastic Four: First Steps

[orpheusredux]

Holy. Shit.

[radioactiveparker]

The Boy Next Door - Mechanic!Eddie Munson X Fem!Reader (Smut)

Summary - You make a compromise with your new neighbour that grants him desirable compensation.

Warnings - Strong Language / Voyeurism / Public / Oral (M & F Receiving) / Face Fucking / Deep Throating / Spitting / Slapping / Dacryphilia (?) / Praise Kink / Degradation / Fingering / Cum Eating / Squirting / Multiple Orgasms / Anal (?) / Spanking / Creampie

Word Count - 5.2K

~~~~~

You couldn't stand it anymore.

Another cough of an engine. Another bang on the hood. Another squeak of a wrench. You were gonna lose it. You had been lying in bed for almost an hour, trying to drown out the incessant sounds. You had listened to music on your Walkman, but you couldn't seem to turn it loud enough. You had shut all the windows of your trailer despite the sweltering summer heat and even almost suffocated yourself when covering your ears with your pillow.

Nothing seemed to work.

You had only moved into Hawkins' Forest Hills Trailer Park about a week ago, and this was the fourth night in a row this had occurred. You had yet to meet any of your neighbours, but you knew that there was one that you already couldn't stand. You wondered how the others put up with it, or perhaps they were so used to it that it never bothered them anymore. You had yet to get to that point.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Clank!

Squueeaakk!

Enough was enough. With a frustrated huff, you threw the covers off yourself, leaving you in a not-so-modest tank top and shorts. It was much too warm for anything else this time of year, and you were far too vexed to change. You flung the front door open and stormed your way out of the trailer.

It was still relatively light out. The sun sat low, lighting the western sky in a golden glow, and the daytime moon had risen high above Hawkins, ready to snuff out the sun's tenacious flame. The chill of the impending nighttime air sent shivers along your hot skin, cooling you down from being stuffed in your unventilated bedroom.

Outside the trailer on your left, a handsome man, roughly the same age as you, had his head buried in the engine of a car. He took a step back, wiping the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand, and eyed his work so far. His brow creased, and his lip twitch with dissatisfaction. You admired the soft waves of his hair as he raked a hand through it, accidentally pulling some strands loose from its bun. His arms were exposed in his oil-stained wife beater. The ripple of his toned muscles enamoured you as they moved, and you took a fancy to the tattoos that adorned them. His eyes were deep and earthy like potted soil, glistening in the setting sun, making them swirl like pools of honey. The sloping bridge of his nose scrunched with a disgruntled sniff, and his plum bottom lip was tucked between his teeth in concentration. You were captivated by their movement as they soundlessly shaped his words, when suddenly a hand waved at your face.

"Can I help you?" He impatiently repeated for a third time, snapping you out of your trance.

Your mouth bobbed open as you tried to remember why you were out here in the first place. You hated that you had put that furrow across his brow as he waited for your response, itching to get back to work. Your cheeks felt unbearably hot, turning you molten from the top downwards and melting under his gaze. You feared he was far too handsome to stay mad at.

You cleared your throat, "Yeah, could you keep it down, please? I'm trying to sleep."

His eyes softened ever so slightly. "Sorry, sweetheart, I've got a deadline to meet, and I work through the day. It's the only chance I get to work on it." And he went back to work as if that was a good enough answer.

You scoffed, irritation slowly rising again. You told yourself it didn't matter how hot his grease streaked muscles were. "Listen, I've got a job interview tomorrow morning that I'd rather not miss because I overslept."

"Congratulations, I hope it works out for you." There was a strain in his voice as he tightened another bolt, oblivious to the point you were trying to make. You clearly weren't getting anywhere with this guy.

"How about a compromise then? You can keep working but just promise to keep it down?"

He looked up at you over the hood of his car with those big brown eyes that were hard to resist melting for. He raised his eyebrows challengingly before stalking towards you, wringing his hands on an old rag. Your heart quickened, and you refrained from squeezing your thighs together when he licked his pink lips and threw the rag over his wide shoulder. He towered over you, close enough for you to smell his manly musk and see the drops of sweat trickle down the delicious skin of his neck that you so desperately wanted to sink your teeth into.

"I'm afraid I can't do that, sweetheart. It's not exactly an easy task to do quietly." He spoke to you, but his eyes not-so-subtly gawked down your shirt (his vantage point giving him a direct view down it), only locking eyes with you when he had finished talking.

You resisted rolling your eyes - men were so easy to read. So you played into it. You arched your back slightly to push out your breasts, the cool breeze perking your nipples through your top, and rested a flirty hand on his bicep.

"Surely you deserve a break?" You stroked a finger down his arm teasingly and batted your lashes at him. "I mean, you said it yourself. You work all through the day, and now you're working all through the night? Even a strong, hard-working man like you needs to have a break sometimes."

His eyes lingered on your pouted lips, just long enough for you to catch him. His eyes darted around with every thought as he considered your proposition before staring at you intently. "If I do this for you, what do I get out of it? I'm gonna need some sort of compensation for the delay I'm gonna have."

You played with the hem of his tank top, tugging it playfully and revealing the defined muscles of his pecks. You were having far too much fun toying with this handsome stranger, and his devilishly good looks only made it that much easier to play your part. Besides, you thought he deserved it after causing you so many sleepless nights.

"I'm sure you can think of a way for me to thank you." You whispered seductively.

"You mean like a..." He looked around cautiously to make sure there was no one to overhear. "A you-know-what?" He whispered.

"A 'you-know-what'?" You laughed at his phrasing. "That all depends."

You spun in the direction of your trailer whipping your hair so he could smell the addictive scent of your shampoo. You swayed your hips as you walked back to your trailer. You were pretty sure that your ass cheeks were showing under your shorts, but that just made you all the more enticing.

"Depends on what?" He called, standing there like a lost puppy.

You skipped up the steps and peeked your head out the door. "On how good a night's sleep I get." You winked and shut the door.

~~~~~

The sun beamed just as brightly as it had the day before, yet you didn't let the sticky, stifling heat ruin your mood. You pranced out of your car, stilettos in one hand, and your most professional blazer draped over your arm in an attempt to cool down.

You practically danced up the steps to your trailer when a voice called out. "Hey! How did the interview go?"

You turned to see your neighbour from last night jogging towards you. He looked every bit as handsome as he had been the night before, only in the heat of the early afternoon sun he had decided to go shirtless. Your eyes shamelessly surveyed his exposed torso. His skin was smooth and glowing golden from working outdoors all day. He had more tattoos decorating his toned muscles that trailed down to his happy tail and v lines. You resisted raking your hands along his chiselled body.

"Great!" You beamed, "they said they were gonna call me back tomorrow."

He nodded. It was nice of him to ask, but you knew he was interested in something else. "And erm, how did you sleep?"

Your mood just got even better. You'd had a semi-decent sleep last night, but with the nerves for your interview, you could hardly keep still. But that didn't really matter to you anymore. The swell of pride from a successful interview was enough to keep your adrenaline charged up.

Despite flirting with your neighbour last night, you'd had no intentions of offering him any 'compensation', even if he had held up his end of the bargain. But after your interview went so ridiculously well, you decided that you deserved a little treat for yourself.

And by little, you meant a 6ft, tall, dark, and handsome treat.

You smirked, stalking towards him, and wrapped your free arm around his neck to pull him down to your level.

"Like a baby." You whispered in his ear.

A dangerous smile spread on his face. He bravely rested his hands on your hips and pulled you flush against him. You rested your hand on his chest to steady yourself. He drew himself closer and closer until your lips barely brushed together.

"Do you wanna come inside?" You whispered against his lips before they could touch.

"Oh boy, do I." He replied dreamily.

You tried not to blush at the unintentional double meaning and lead him inside of your trailer.

You were suddenly very embarrassed by the state of your home. While you had all of the basic furniture set out, you had yet to properly decorate, and you still had moving boxes dotted around your home. Luckily, Eddie didn't seem phased by any of this. You doubted he even gave himself a chance to look around because the second he stepped inside, he pounced on you. Your shoes and blazer fell from your hands as you wrapped your arms around his neck to pull him closer. His lips latched onto yours desperately, biting and tonguing you messily with an urgency that left you breathless.

His large hands had no intentions of resting as they raked up and down your body eagerly, already untucking your blouse from your skirt and popping the buttons open. Your hands were hardly any better. You scratched your nails lightly along his pecks and down the deliciously compact muscles woven over his stomach. You felt him all over as if you were applying an imaginary balm over the expanse of his hot flesh. His skin was tacky with sweat from the midday heat, but that didn't stop you from wanting your tongue all over his body.

"What's your name?" You breathed between kisses.

"So you know what to scream later?" He mused, forcing his tongue between your lips.

You moaned around it before pulling away. Your tone sparked with frisky playfulness. "Why else would I ask?"

His laugh rumbled against your lips before he moved back to look at you. His eyes locked onto yours with a dazzling intensity. Your breath stuttered in your throat. His intense beauty overwhelmed you for a moment, and you wondered if the Goddess of Love had carved him herself.

"It's Eddie." He smiled softly. "What's yours?"

"Eddie." You repeated to yourself, testing how the name tasted in your mouth. You liked how it felt on your tongue.

Eddie.

You told him your name, and he smiled like you had handed him his favourite flower.

"Beautiful." He murmured to no one in particular before he latched his mouth onto yours once more.

It was as if you had never taken pause. The intensity of the kiss was just as strong as it had been before, if not stronger. The two of you seemed more desperate somehow, like exploring each others mouths was how you would become akin - tasting each others memories, sucking up stories and lapping up every word from the tips of your tongues.

You pulled away from his kiss as he pushed your blouse off your shoulders and began suckling the salty skin of his neck. You could feel your core swelling at the hitch in his breath. It didn't occur to you how difficult it would be for him to hide your hickeys and you only hoped that he would choose to display your artwork instead.

Your hands continued lower until they stopped at the waistband of his jeans. You reached for his belt, only to find it already unbuckled and his buttons undone. He gave you a smile with far too much amusement for him to feign sheepishness effectively. You managed to wipe that smile off his face, however, as your hand compelled itself to burrow into his boxers. His eyes flashed with surprise at your boldness before they rolled into his skull. You revelled in satisfaction as his face rippled with pleasure. You bit your lip to stop yourself from moaning at the weight of him in your hand; thick and heavy, just weeping to be engulfed by any of your tight little holes. With your other hand, you pulled his zipper the rest of the way down to let his jeans fall to his ankles, and you allowed yourself to fall with them.

It was only when you rested on your knees and could see between Eddie's legs that you noticed your front door was still wide open and the two of you were entirely exposed before it. You felt a surge of arousal shoot through your veins. There were no trailers opposite yours, and you looked out directly to the road. There was no one around, however. Nearly the entirety of Hawkins would be at the community pool on a day like this, but that did nothing to dampen the rush of getting caught. You quickly unclasped your bra and threw it to the side. Your nipples perked almost instantly as if testing the waters of how much you could get away with, challenging somebody to drive by - to stop and watch. The exposure had so much slick dribbling onto your panties that you feared for a brief moment that you had wet yourself with excitement. Eager to continue, you forced his boxers down so his fat, throbbing cock sprung in your face.

It was beautifully red and crying pearly tears of desperation that you lapped up hungrily, not wanting a drop to go to waste. Eddie hissed at the sensation, squeezing his eyes shut in pleasure and running his fingers through your hair. He didn't force you on his cock like he wished he could, but instead he brushed your hair from your face, angling your head so you looked up at him through your eyelashes and pulled on your chin to open your mouth. And you did all of this willingly, practically drooling just imagining the sweaty, salty taste of his cock sliding down your throat. You stuck out your tongue eagerly and allowed him to slap the head of his cock on your warm wet muscle. Eddie didn't want to be rough with you. He'd only just met you - he didn't even know if you liked it rough. But there was a fierceness blazing in your eyes, challenging him to do his worst.

And when Eddie couldn't stand anymore of his own self-teasing, he forced his entire length all the way down your throat in one fell swoop, and it welcomed him without hesitation. He released an animalistic groan at the feeling of the fleshy walls constricting around his large shaft with a gag. You sniffed the tears from your eyes when he slid from your throat, a pop reverberating from your trailer walls from the suction of your cheeks. He allowed you a few breaths before snaking his way down your oesophagus and into your lungs. He held himself there before testing a few small thrusts. The force of his hips pushed him impossibly deeper as he stole the air from your chest. You tapped his leg for him to release you but he held the back of your head firmly, forcing his cock to remain sheathed inside your heaving gullet. You could feel the pressure burning your temples as you whined around Eddies length, begging him for air. He pulled you back by your hair, his cock throbbing as he watched you cough and splutter for air, tears rolling down your cheeks and a string of spit running from his cock to your chin. He positioned your head so your face was pointed directly at the ceiling. He hovered above you admiring the enjoyment on your face.

"Open." He demands.

You did as you were told, opening your mouth wide and sticking out your tongue. You expected him to force himself back down your throat, but instead, he violently spat into your mouth. The majority of it landed on your tongue, but a few splashes landed on your cheeks and chin. But that didn't matter when Eddie used the head of his cock to swipe it all up and ram it down your throat. He repeated it a few times, making sure he got it all off your face before prodding the head of his cock into the inside of your cheek. He kept it there and spat on his length, watching it run down his shaft and into your fuckable mouth.

He gave your cheek a few quick taps, moaning as he felt the bulge of his cock through it. He did it again, harder this time, testing how hard you would let him go until he was full on slapping his cock through your face. He loved the heat blooming on your abused cheek, hoping to smack a matching one on your ass soon, and your tears had his eyes rolling back. It was all too much and not enough for him.

He immediately plunged back into you, setting a brutal pace, the blunt head of his cock bruising your throat. You gagged and moaned and cried around his length, but none of it was an attempt to make him stop.

Eddie could feel himself reaching his climax dangerously quickly. The soft walls of your throat were so irresistible that he couldn't help himself but pound into your face. He was moaning wildly and panting heavily. He found himself infatuated by the way the sunlight reflected off the sweat, spit, and tears on your face, glistening like the stones of a babbling brook.

A swift breeze swept in from behind and he moaned at the feeling of it cooling the spit on his hot length. It was only then that he too noticed the door was still wide open.

Dirty fucking girl he thought to himself.

You had been facing the door this whole time and knew it was open, yet made no attempt to confide yourselves in the safety of your home. Holding onto the back of your head, he pulled you towards the door, positioning the two of you so you were side on. The two of you were completely exposed, and there was definitely no question about what the two of you were doing. The thought of getting caught, picturing people gathering and watching in shock, and even people filming on their video cameras were all so arousing to Eddie. His cock throbbed in agreement.

He so desperately wanted someone to walk by.

To see the kind of power he could have.

The new girl in town was a whore for the town freak.

Eddie liked that idea very much.

It was almost enough to send him over the edge, but he forced himself to stop. He removed himself from you, and you gasped for breath. His hand gently cupped your cheek, brushing the tears from your face with a glaze of adoration over his irises.

"You're fucking incredible." He praised. "Such a good fucking girl. How lucky am I to of found someone like you."

His praises had your juices dripping on the floor, integrating with the other fluids that dripped from your face. You smiled drunkenly at his words, and your chest warmed with pride.

"Stand up for me, sweetheart." Eddie held out a hand to help you up.

You stood on two shaky legs, already feeling the bruises forming on your knees. When you raised to your full height, Eddie immediately pushed his lips to yours, licking into your mouth to taste himself on your tongue.

"I know how much you want me to cum down that pretty little throat of yours, baby, but I just gotta be inside you."

You moaned a sigh, your cunt already clenching in anticipation.

"You're such a dirty girl aren't you sweetheart? Just look at how desperate you are for my cock. You want me to fill you up? Pump you full of my cum?"

"Yes." You whimpered, throat raw and hoarse.

He turned you around, pressing you against the door frame so half the length of your body leaned outside. You couldn't help the jolt of anxiety that struck you in the chest. As Eddie pushed his front to your back, you couldn't help but take a glance at your surroundings to make sure nobody was there.

"Let them see."

"Huh?"

"It doesn't matter if there's people. Let them see. Let them see this perfect fucking body. Let them wish it was them fucking this sweet little cunt instead of me."

You could have came from his vulgar words alone. You nodded obediently and let him bunch your skirt up around your waist. Eddie released a devilish laugh at the juices running down your legs. His fingers toyed with your clothed folds, spreading the slick along the damp material and gliding effortlessly over your aching clit. You moaned at the relief but quickly drew a hand over your mouth to muffle it.

"Ah, ah, ah." Eddie tutted, forcefully gripping both of your wrists and pinning your arms behind your back. He was able to hold both wrists in one of his large hands whilst he used the other to tug your panties around your ankles.

Without warning, he plunged two long fingers into your tight heat, stretching you wide with his thick fingers. You whimpered at the sensation. You could only imagine what his cock would feel like. You could feel it now, in fact, burning red hot against the supple cheek of your ass.

His fingers moved frustratingly slow in and out of your aching hole, curling them when it reached his knuckles. Your juices squelched out of you with every breach and dripped down his forearm. After a few minutes of pleasureful torture, he pulled his fingers from you and sucked on them hungrily.

"Fuck, I gotta have a taste of that." He whispered to himself, and squatted down so his face was level with your dripping cunt.

He still had one hand holding your wrists to the small of your back, but his other hand pulled at your thigh, encouraging you to take a step back so you could bend over more. As you did, you found yourself spreading your legs wider too, letting him see how your gaping pussy winked at him with every clench. Your pussy glistened just as beautifully as your face had when it was caked in tears and spit, only your pussy cried to be absolutely assaulted by his cock. And he would give that to you eventually.

But not right now.

Instead, he used two fingers to spread your folds apart and gently peek your clit out from under its hood. That feeling alone was enough to make your legs start trembling again. So when he licked a powerful stripe over you, you just lost it completely.

His mouth practically molested your pulsing cunt. He tongued messily over your clit, nibbled at your folds and plunged his tongue as far into your pathetic hole as he could. His nose prodded at your asshole with every swipe of his tongue, causing you to push your hips back into him.

"Eddie, please." You begged him to relent - to just fuck you senseless.

"Oh no sweetheart, not until you cum on my tongue. Be a good girl, and let me taste you."

And with that he suckled onto your clit like a calf at its mother's teet. He was harsh and sedulous, in a single-minded frenzy for you to grant him a taste of your sweet elixir straight from the source. You grant him that wish gladly, feeling it trickle from you in a steady stream following each clench of your orgasming cunt.

Eddie drank it all up eagerly, slurping your pussy to get every last drop out of you. His eyes sparkled with both amusement and desire. He had slept around with a handful of women, true. But he had never seen a woman squirt before.

He was addicted already.

He felt it had become his life's purpose to watch you squirt for him over and over again until there was nothing left inside of you.

His cock was practically purple at this point, and it dribbled lazily onto the floor. He needed to feel you spasming on his cock, drenching his length with your squirt.

You were too high to be embarrassed about how quickly he had made you cum. He barely gave you time to recover from your orgasm before he forced his cock to fit inside of your quivering cunt. You weren't trying to resist, his cock was just simply too big.

And he was hardly halfway in.

You cried at the stretch, moans slipping in between sobs. At the sound, Eddie couldn't resist anymore. He spat harshly where your bodies met before using your arms to force you backwards onto his full length. A sudden sharp pain bolted through your core, and you released a strangled cry. But he did not stop.

Your cries spurred him on, and he drove himself harder and faster into you. His breath was a ragged growl in your ear as he bent his body over yours. He bit and sucked on your neck and shoulders with a severity that delighted you. There was no tenderness in any of his actions. He was a ravenous animal feasting on your flesh, doing with your body as he pleased.

But you did not want him to be gentle.

Don't stop. Don't stop. Don't stop.

You would tell him if you could, but the pain had snatched away your voice. In the beginning, it blazed like a fire, burning up any innocence that was left within you. Until pleasure snuffed out that raging flame. Instead, the embers glowed hotly deep in your core.

You moaned wildly like a whore at every harsh thrust. If, for some reason, any of your neighbours were sat indoors, they would undoubtedly be able to hear what was going on. That only egged you to moan louder. Eddies name rolled repeatedly from your lips with only gasps and grunts between each one. Eddie loved that the entire trailer park could hear you screaming his name. He hoped his annoying neighbour Travis, who had come to Eddie earlier in the day, boasting about how he was gonna ask the hot new chick out, was sat weeping pathetically as he jerked off to you moaning another man's name.

"Oh fuck baby."

"That feels so good, baby."

"Baby, I'm so close."

"Nuh hun, you know what my name is, sweetheart. Say it."

Every stroke pushed the breath from your lungs, expelling the air from you in arousing moans.

"Say it." He slaps a demanding hand to the cheek of your ass.

He pounded harder, only making it more difficult for you. The best you could do was a pathetic whimper. He slapped your ass again before yanking your head backwards by your hair until your body released from the doorframe, and he was the only thing holding you up.

His lips pressed to your ear. "Be a good girl and say it."

Your mouth hung open, eyes squeezed shut tight in pleasure as you panted wildly. He released your arms from your back and used his thumb to gather your creamy spend that had ringed around his cock as he thrusted. He circled your tight asshole with a light pressure before forcing it inside. It sucked him in gladly and he moaned loudly as he felt himself thrusting inside of you.

"Fuck Eddie!"

"That's it, sweetheart. That's my good girl. Say it again."

Your legs shook violently beneath you, causing Eddie to wrap his other arm around you to keep you up right. His hips never faulterd once, clapping loudly against your ass. Your head was spinning from feeling completely filled to the brim.

"Fuck! Eddie!"

Your pleasure was swelling deeply within you, expanding like a balloon seconds away from bursting. Eddie could feel both of your holes struggling to tighten around him as you orgasm tietered on the precipice.

"C'mon sweetheart, be a good girl and soak my cock."

His words send you over the edge. Your eyes rolled so far back into your skull that you wondered for a moment whether you had just blacked out from pure ecstacy. Eddies hips remained ferocious as your walls milked him for all he's worth. The feeling of you spasming around him, your squirt soaking his cock, splashing everywhere with each thrust and running down his legs was enough to have him shoot his thick load deep inside of you.

"Eddie!" You moaned at the feeling, somehow feeling fuller than ever.

"What was that?" A voice called from the distance.

Approaching footsteps caused you to rush in a flurry of panic as you pushed Eddie inside and slammed the door shut, leaving the stranger to wonder whether they had missed the rain seeing the puddle on your doorstep.

The two of you tumbled to the floor, Eddie groaning as you landed on top of him. You were surprised to see his cock was still shooting a thick rope of cum onto his stomach. You quickly scrambled on top of him, sinking back down onto his sensitive length to allow him to finish completely inside of you. He hissed as your wall stroked him to the end, loving the view of your shimmering naked body above him. He held you there as his cock softened, tracing his fingers along every curve and crease along your body as if trying to commit them to memory.

"Are you okay?"

Your heart swelled at the concern dripping from his lips. You smiled at him softly. "Never better."

There was a pause as the two of you relished in each others company, taking the time to admire one another.

"I'm sorry, by the way." Eddie broke the silence, staring deeply into your eyes.

You tilted your head in confusion, taking his hand in yours, worried that he thought he might have hurt you. "What for?"

"For keeping you up last night." He smiled sheepishly. "No one's ever really complained, so I didn't think it was a big deal."

You couldn't help but giggle. "It's okay, Eddie. I'll let you off on one condition."

He laughed in amusement. "Oh yeah? And what's that?"

"You take me on a date."

"Well, I would be much of a gentlemen if I didn't take a lady on a date after fucking her brains out, would I?"

~~~~~

Taglist:

@mdurdenpitt @wheel-of-hyperfixation @lemme-slytherin-that-dick @arlxt

[momotonescreaming]

AU where Steve and Eddie are long haul truckers who slowly fall in love over meetings at truck stops

[momotonescreaming]

I know nothing about truckers but I can't stop thinking about this

Eddie has a truck cat he rescued from the side of the road. it was a scraggly looking grumpy thing when he first found him so he named him Wayne Jr. He blasts metal when he drives, but likes to sit in the cab in silence and read when he has to take a break. Likes to pick up funny post cards from tourist traps and send them home to Wayne with updates about what he's going. Wayne keeps every one.

Steve loves to put on sport radio so he can listen to the game as he drives. Occasionally he flicks to local rock stations. He has his tapes but he's not picky. He likes to try and takes his breaks near payphones so he can ring home to catch up with Dustin and Robin. He doesn't ring home to his parents. Likes to go for walks and get moving when he's not in his truck. Try and stay fit. Has a whole list of stretches memorised when his body starts to feel stiff.

Both didn't expect to be truckers, but they like it. They get to get out of their respective small towns. Get to travel. Get to escape. Be free.

They first meet at some small no-name truck stop in the middle of nowhere. Nod at each other politely in that 'trucker solidarity' way. They both think the other is young, and cute, and not like any of the other truckers they see on the road. At stops. They pass each other, and think that's the end of it.

But then they bump into each other again. And again. Giving each other nods, and waves, and stolen glances.

They talk for the first time when Wayne Jr jumps out of Eddie's truck at a stop and ends up smooching around Steve's legs begging for pets and cuddles while Eddie looses his mind trying to find him.

And that's how it starts.

[orpheusredux]

More please!!!!!

[steddiebang]

JOIN US FOR THE STEVE/EDDIE BIGBANG!

Do you write Steve/Eddie fanfic? Make fanart? Want to meet other people in the community, do some collaborative creation, and have a lot of fun? Join the Steve/Eddie Bigbang, now officially running a 2023 round! Sign-ups for authors and artists open February 1, 2023. Check out our rules & expectations, schedule, and FAQ for more details.

RULES & EXPECTATIONS / SCHEDULE / FAQ

[professionalpenthief]

i will say that if hugh grant's friend group from four weddings and a funeral ever found out about the "i'm just girl standing in front of a boy" line they would never let julia roberts or hugh grant live it down. they'd be married for years and those friends would turn up for a dinner party and be like, "i'm just a girl standing in front of a boy, asking him to pass the potatoes" they would have to move away and change names

[kwistowee]

‘STRANGER THINGS 4’ episode posters by Butcher Billy

[djo]

JOSEPH QUINN GQ Magazine - Men of the Year Honorees

[djo]

#chocolate button eyes (6/?)

[shirleyjacksons]

not an anti or a pro-shipper but a third secret thing (adult with job)

[hannaloony]

[riality-check]

This is not how Wayne was expecting to come home from work.

He had expected, as usual, that Eddie would be asleep, and he’d be free to watch the 5:00 AM news. He’d have a bowl of cereal for dinner (or was it breakfast at that point?), and then he’d be out like a light while Eddie did whatever it was he did before noon. Usually, that was sleep.

The exact opposite of what Wayne was expecting is happening right now. 

He didn’t even get his keys out of his pocket before Eddie whips the door open. He looks a mess: hair tied back loosely, pajamas off kilter, panic mixed with exhaustion on his face.

“Oh, thank Christ,” he croaks. “Wayne, I need your help. I have no idea what to do.”

Wayne can count on one hand the number of times he’s seen Eddie panic like this. He shoulders past him into the trailer and is greeted with the sight of Steve Harrington standing in the middle of his living room.

“What on God’s green earth,” he murmurs. He blinks, then blinks again, but Harrington is still there, in pajamas, the tire iron Eddie still keeps under his bed in his hands. He’s breathing real heavy, and he stares out the window, stock-still.

“The hell happened?” Wayne asks, keeping his voice low.

“I don’t know,” Eddie whispers desperately. “I don’t know what happened, but he got up and grabbed the iron and just stood here-”

“How long?”

“Ten minutes, maybe.”

Wayne doesn’t like where this is going. “Has he responded to you at all?”

“No-”

Shit.

“-but I can try again?”

Wayne eyes the white-knuckled grip Harrington has on the tire iron. He’s ready to swing, and Wayne knows he’ll swing hard if given the chance.

No way he’s risking Eddie. No way he’s risking Harrington. Wayne doesn’t know him well, only met him a few times in passing, but he knows he’d never forgive himself if he hurt Eddie.

“No. Don’t try again.”

“I’m not leaving him.”

“Didn’t ask you to. All I’m saying is don’t go near.”

Eddie is very good at following instructions to the letter and to the letter only, much to Wayne’s fond annoyance. So, he doesn’t go near.

Instead, he says, voice strangely soft, “Stevie, sweetheart.”

Harrington doesn’t respond, but he turns a little in the direction of Eddie’s voice. Wayne takes that as a good sign, even if he can see the tension on his face now.

“Will you come back to sleep? Please?” Wayne hates hearing Eddie’s voice crack the way it is right now.

Harrington faces them a little better, and Wayne sees what he was expecting.

He’s staring through them, not at them. Wherever Harrington is, it sure ain’t here.

“I don’t know how much that’s gonna help, Eddie. He’s having-”

“I know he’s having a flashback, Wayne!” Eddie snaps. “I’m not stupid. It’s usually just not this bad, and I don’t know how to fix it.”

“Alright,” Wayne says because snapping back won’t help anyone. That and because he’s trying to process the fact that Eddie has had to deal with this before. “Let me try.”

He takes a few steps toward Harrington, keeping his hands up and his movements slow.

“Harrington,” he calls, keeping his tone light. “You’re at Eddie’s place right now. It’s almost five AM on a Friday night.”

Harrington blinks, and it looks like his eyes are coming back into focus.

“You’re safe right now. Eddie’s safe right now.”

Harrington shakes his head and lifts the tire iron a little higher. Christ, his arms must be aching by now. “No. I saw the lights flicker, and I heard a thud outside, and it got cold.”

“Stevie, the gate’s closed,” Eddie pleads. “You saw it happen. Nothing got out. You’re safe.”

Wayne doesn’t know what any of that means, but even though it was supposed to reassure Harrington, he just shakes his head again.

He hears Eddie sigh behind him, and he knows without turning around that he’s trying not to cry.

Guess he’s gotta try something different, then. “You just wake up?”

Harrington blinks, and for a minute, Wayne thinks this won’t get them anywhere. But then he whispers, just loud enough to be heard, “Yeah.”

“Okay. I just got off work.”

Harrington stares at him, confused.

“So, I think I’m a little more awake than you. I’ll take what you’ve got in your hands, and I can stay up.”

Harrington shakes his head. “It’s fine. I stay up most of the time when I’m alone.”

Alone. Wayne knows from experience, both personal and witnessing this shit, that alone is the last thing anyone should be when they’re having a flashback. Harrington says it like it’s the only thing he’s ever known.

He dismisses his questions - why is Harrington having flashbacks, why is he alone - and focuses on getting him to put down the tire iron and go to bed.

“You’re not alone this time,” Wayne says. “You’ve got Eddie here, too, and I think both of you would feel better if you were together.”

Harrington looks over Wayne’s shoulder. Wayne doesn’t turn around, but he can imagine the pleading look on Eddie’s face just fine.

Wayne holds out his hands for the tire iron, and after a minute, or maybe a month, Harrington sets it there. Immediately, he looks lighter and heavier.

Eddie walks up next to Wayne and murmurs, “Come on, sugar.”

Harrington goes to him and just rests his head on his shoulder. Eddie holds him there, just standing in the middle of the living room, sunrise just starting to peek in through the windows.

Thank you, he mouths to Wayne.

Wayne nods, but he’s got a hell of a lot more questions than answers - what the hell brought this on, what exactly is Harrington to Eddie. That can wait for morning, though.

For now, he just hopes Harrington will be okay by then.

No, not Harrington. Steve.

After something like this, Wayne has learned, you start using first names.

[reihea]

#HAWKINS HERO STRANGER THINGS | 4.09 “The Piggyback”

[orpheusredux]

I'm never getting over this. This, more than anything, makes me think we'll never get him back... it would undermine this beautiful - heartbreaking scene.