─── 𓇢𓆸 ───
𝙿𝚁𝙴𝙼𝙸𝚂𝙴: Before the Battle of Starcourt, Seven comes face-to-face with the sister she never knew she had.
𝚆𝙾𝚁𝙳 𝙲𝙾𝚄𝙽𝚃: 5K
𝙰𝙿𝙿𝙴𝙰𝚁𝙰𝙽𝙲𝙴𝚂 𝙱𝚈: Seven, Dustin, Robin, Steve, Erica, Eleven, Mike, Lucas, Max, Nancy, Jonathan, Hopper, Joyce, Murray.
𝚃𝙰𝙶𝚂: Sibling reveal, sister moment, telekinesis, nosebleeds, blood/injury, found family, angst, hope.
𝙰𝚄𝚃𝙷𝙾𝚁'𝚂 𝙽𝙾𝚃𝙴: (PLS READ) Canon scenes have been reimagined with rewritten dialogue and additional moments to naturally include Seven.
─── 𓇢𓆸 ───
July 4th, 1985.
Dustin shoves the door open, storming into the mall’s bathroom to find Robin and Steve sitting across from each other on the floor in a stall, laughing hysterically. Erica and Seven follow, coming to a halt at either side of Dustin. For a moment, none of them say anything. The sight in front of them is so unexpected that it takes a minute to process.
Robin sits with her back against one side of the stall, her cheeks flushed and tears gathered at the corners of her eyes. Across from her, Steve is slumped against the opposite wall, his head tipped back as another fit of laughter shakes through him. Neither of them seem remotely aware of how ridiculous they look.
Dustin’s eyebrows knit together.
“Okay…” His voice trails off as he stares at them. “What the hell?”
Neither answers.
Steve glances up at him, his laughter easing just enough for it to seem like he’s finally about to speak. Instead, his gaze drifts to Robin. Robin meets his eyes, and a second later they’re both laughing again — harder this time. Robin bends forward, one hand pressed over her mouth as she struggles to breathe through it. Steve nearly doubles over, his shoulders shaking uncontrollably.
Dustin blinks between them both; the irritation he’d been carrying since the movie theater is quickly giving way to genuine confusion. Erica shifts her weight beside him, staring openly at the pair.
“There’s no way you two are still drugged,” Erica grimaces as she looks Steve over. Her eyes catch on the stain smeared across the front of his blue Scoops Ahoy uniform. “Is that throw-up on your clothes? Gross.”
Robin clutches her stomach as another laugh threatens to escape. She sucks in a breath, trying to compose herself, and quickly wipes beneath one eye.
“No, no,” she says between breaths. “We’re good.” She glances at Steve. “Right, Steve?”
Steve nods, still grinning despite himself. The laughter has finally started to die down, leaving behind a strange sort of exhaustion. “Right as rain.”
Robin lets out another breath through her nose, shaking her head as if she’s remembering something all over again. The corner of Steve’s mouth twitches. They’re both fighting laughter again, but Dustin’s voice cuts through it before either of them can lose control completely.
“Can the both of you just please get it together? We have to go.” He gestures sharply toward the door behind him, frustration evident in both his expression and voice.
The reminder seems to bring everyone back to reality. Steve’s smile falters slightly as the situation catches up to him. For a brief moment, his gaze drifts to Seven. She stands beside Erica near the entrance of the bathroom, arms loosely crossed, watching the scene unfold with an expression somewhere between concern and disbelief.
Then he clears his throat and pushes himself to his feet. The movement is slower than usual, his body still feeling the effects of everything they’ve been through over the last several hours. Robin rises a moment later, rubbing her hands together anxiously as she exhales. The laughter fades from her face, replaced by a nervous energy that settles heavily in her shoulders.
For a second, nobody speaks. Dustin carefully eases the bathroom door open and peers into the mall. The crowd from the last movie showing is pouring out of the theater now, conversations overlapping as families, teenagers, and couples drift through the corridor. It isn’t orderly, but that’s exactly what he needs. Robin, Steve, Erica, and Seven gather behind him, craning their necks to look past his shoulder.
After a moment, Dustin nods to himself. “And… go.”
The five of them slip out of the bathroom and into the crowd, allowing themselves to be swallowed by the stream of people moving through Starcourt. Seven keeps her head down as they walk, staying close enough to the others that she can feel shoulders brushing against hers every few steps. Around them, nobody pays any attention. They’re just another group of mall-goers trying to get home before closing. To her surprise, it actually works.
“Well, shit,” Erica says after several moments. “That actually worked.”
“Of course it did,” Dustin replies, sounding far too pleased with himself. “Now we just have to follow these commoners to the bus, and we’ll be home sweet home.”
The confidence in his voice makes Steve visibly tense, and Seven notices it instantly. His shoulders stiffen and his pace slows slightly before he finally clears his throat. “Uh, Dustin?”
Dustin barely glances back. “What?”
Steve hesitates. “I don’t think your house is the best idea.”
That gets Dustin’s attention. His head turns fully this time, confusion flashing across his face. “Why?”
Steve grimaces. “Because I might’ve told the Russians your whole name.”
The words hit like a brick. Dustin’s eyes widen as Erica’s head snaps around. Seven nearly misses a step.
“You what?” Dustin demands.
“They drugged me, dude,” Steve says, guilt creeping into his voice despite the defense. Dustin immediately starts whisper-yelling at him, his hands flying through the air as Steve argues back in equally hushed tones. Robin stays out of it entirely, her gaze fixed ahead as if she has absolutely no interest in being involved.
Seven is only half listening as something catches her attention across the mall. At first she isn’t sure what it is, then she sees them — two large men in dark uniforms are moving through the mall with purpose, stopping shoppers as they pass. One speaks to a couple near the mall entrance while the other scans the crowd, his eyes sweeping from face to face. Guns rest openly at their sides, and every muscle in Seven’s body tightens.
“Guys…”
Nobody hears her. Dustin is still tearing into Steve as they move with the crowd, his hushed words clipped with frustration while Steve struggles to defend himself.
“Guys.”
This time, the urgency in Seven’s voice cuts through the argument. The conversation falters and all eyes turn toward her, but Seven doesn’t look at any of them. Her attention remains fixed ahead, her expression falling as she watches the two men moving through the mall. Robin instinctively follows her gaze as the color suddenly drains from her face. Dustin, Steve, and Erica see them too.
“Oh shit,” Steve breathes. The words have barely left his mouth when one of the men — the one with the slicked-back black ponytail — looks directly at them.
For a split second, everything seems to stop, and then Dustin panics. “Abort, abort! Go!”
The group reacts instantly, spinning on their heels and bolting back the way they came, shoving through the crowd as startled shoppers jump out of their path. The noise of the mall seems to swell around them as they race toward the escalators ahead.
Seven risks a glance over her shoulder; the men are coming. Steve does the same and feels his stomach drop as both armed men push through the crowd behind them, their pace quick and relentless.
“Shit! Go, go, go!” Robin yells.
They reach the top of the escalators just as Dustin throws himself over the side. One by one, the others follow, sliding down the smooth metal divider between the two motionless escalators as fast as gravity will carry them. Their shoes scrape against the steel, hands grabbing for balance as they hurtle toward the floor below.
The mall is nearly empty now as they sprint into the center food court, the open space offering nowhere to hide and far too much room to be seen.
“Over here,” Dustin urges in a hushed, hurried voice, motioning frantically with his hand. The others follow without hesitation, rushing behind a closed food counter and crouching out of sight. They all collide together in the cramped space, shoulders knocking into one another as they press themselves against the cabinets behind the counter. The sudden stop leaves their lungs burning.
Seven barely notices, but the moment she drops into a crouch beside Robin, she reaches for her hand and grabs hold of it.
Robin’s head turns toward her in surprise, but Seven keeps her eyes fixed ahead, listening intently for any sign of the men. Without further hesitation, Robin squeezes her hand back.
They can hear soft footsteps around the food court and muttering in Russian, and it doesn’t sound happy. There are at least four men scouring the area now, and the eyes of the one who noticed them earlier just so happen to land on the counter the five of them are all holding their breaths behind.
The man silently motions for the others to be quiet and move in. As they begin making their way over, Seven can feel her chest pounding against her ribs.
She knows she has the ability to do something, yet she’s frozen with fear.
Out of nowhere, an alarm blares from behind the men, drawing all of their attention. A car begins vibrating violently, its lights flashing as the alarm rings throughout the food court as though it had gone off for no reason at all.
Seven’s eyes squeeze shut tightly as she immediately locks onto the car. The recognizable pressure builds behind her eyes, but just as she reaches for it, she feels another pull on the same vehicle. Her eyebrows furrow in confusion for a brief moment before she focuses harder.
Robin looks at Seven, her eyebrows furrowing deeply. Seven sits perfectly still beside her, eyes still shut as a thin trail of blood slowly slips from her nose. Before Robin can even react, Seven’s head jerks slightly, and the violent crash of the car slamming into a nearby food counter sends everyone jumping and hunching over instinctively.
Everyone except Seven.
When her eyes finally open, Steve is already getting to his feet, Dustin and Erica quickly following after him. Robin lingers for a split second longer, catching Seven quickly wiping her nose and standing.
“What the hell was that?” Erica asks in shock.
Robin’s gaze remains fixed on Seven. “I… have no idea.”
Seven glances at her, drawing in a deep breath before her attention shifts to the car she had just flung across the room, taking out the guards in the process. The lingering confusion remains, however, her mind catching on to the odd pressure she’d felt moments earlier — the unshakable feeling that someone else had been reaching for the very same car. Her eyes travel upward and land on the second-floor balcony of the mall, and Dustin’s gaze follows.
Eleven, Mike, Lucas, Will, Max, Jonathan, and Nancy are standing together, and Dustin locks eyes with Eleven, a wide grin spreading across his face. Eleven returns the smile, though hers is much fainter, a small amount of blood visible beneath her nostril. Breathing deeply, her gaze shifts to Seven, and her expression falls.
The confusion from moments ago suddenly makes sense as they stare at one another across the mall. The strange sensation of someone else pulling on the same car, the oddly familiar presence neither of them had recognized in the chaos. In an instant, something wordlessly clicks for both of them.
The group on the second floor immediately begins making their way down, while the others move to meet them halfway. Seven lingers a few steps behind, her attention drifting briefly to Eleven before the moment is swallowed by the chaos of everyone reuniting.
Dustin is the first to reach them. He practically throws himself at Eleven and Mike, wrapping them both in a tight hug. “That was so cool!”
Around them, conversations erupt all at once.
Robin glances back toward the food court. “Someone wanna tell me what happened to that car?”
“El has superpowers,” Dustin tells her casually, pulling away from the hug. Robin’s head turns toward Seven for a quick second, before shifting to Eleven. Only Eleven isn’t looking at her, or Dustin, or Mike — she’s looking at Seven.
“Wait, what?” Robin asks, needing clarification.
“It wasn’t only me,” Eleven says quietly, her voice cutting through the overlapping conversations. An intense mix of emotions floods her eyes as she continues to stare at Seven — confusion, disbelief, curiosity, and something deeper she can’t quite put into words.
The group falls silent, all eyes shifting between Seven and Eleven.
Seven’s gaze catches on the thin trail of blood still pooling beneath Eleven’s nose, left unwiped in the midst of everything. She gulps as she watches Eleven slowly let go of Mike. Without looking away, Eleven begins making her way toward her. A slight limp lingers in her movements, but she keeps going, her eyes never leaving Seven’s. Mike watches skeptically as he watches Eleven approach the stranger.
Eleven comes to a stop just inches from Seven, her breathing unsteady as her eyes search her face. After a moment, she carefully reaches out, her fingertips brushing against Seven’s wrist before gently drawing her hand closer. Seven doesn’t pull away, her pulse thrumming under Eleven’s touch as Eleven turns her wrist over and slowly pushes back the braided leather bracelet resting there.
The faded tattoo comes into view — 007.
Eleven’s breath catches, her fingers trembling slightly as they move over the numbers, tracing each digit as though she needs to make sure they’re really there. The sight seems to knock the air from her lungs, her throat tightening with sudden recognition.
Around them, the rest of the group watches in stunned silence. Dustin’s eyes dart back and forth between Eleven and Seven, equal parts shocked and irritated with himself for not putting it together sooner. Mike looks completely floored, his eyebrows drawn together and lips parted as he stares at the matching numbers. Lucas appears just as blindsided, confusion and disbelief written plainly across his face, while Will can only stare at Seven with wide eyes and a slack jaw.
“Wait…” Steve starts, gesturing between Seven and Eleven as he tries to wrap his head around it. “You’re–you two are the same? Did you fling that car too?”
Seven finally tears her gaze away from Eleven and looks at Steve, then at the others. Every face is turned toward her, waiting. She swallows before looking back at Eleven.
“Yes,” she admits quietly, at last, gently pulling her hand from Eleven’s lingering hold and letting it fall back to her side.
Eleven draws in a shaky breath through her nose. She hesitates before she slowly lifts her own wrist, turning it until it rests beside Seven’s.
Seven’s eyes drift down to Eleven’s wrist, recognizing the faded number — 011.
Her mouth opens slightly, eyes remaining there as Eleven’s tattoo sits side by side with her own. The matching marks stare back at them like ghosts of a childhood neither of them ever truly escaped.
Eleven’s lips press together briefly before she finally speaks, her voice barely above a whisper. “My sister?”
Seven’s throat tightens — the words hit harder than she expects, sending a sharp ache through her chest. Eleven’s expression is so open, so heartbreakingly vulnerable, that for a moment Seven feels like she’s looking at a reflection of herself.
All she can do is nod.
She’s too overwhelmed to speak. Out of all the impossible, terrifying, and downright insane things that have happened over the last few days, somehow this is the thing that leaves her speechless.
For a moment, Eleven simply stares at her, and then she’s moving. Carefully, almost as if she’s afraid the moment might break apart, she lifts her arms and wraps them around Seven’s shoulders. The second her arms settle around her, something shifts. Eleven pulls her in tightly, her fingers bunching in the fabric of Seven’s shirt as she presses herself against her, holding on as though she’s making up for years of not knowing she existed.
Seven stiffens for only a fraction of a second before melting into the hug herself. Her arms come up around Eleven’s waist, pulling her closer as she rests her cheek against the side of Eleven’s head.
Despite the throbbing pain in her leg and the urgency of the situation surrounding them, Eleven doesn’t pull away from Seven. Mike glances at Dustin and gestures toward the two of them, his expression clearly asking what the hell happened and how Dustin somehow managed to find another numbered girl from Hawkins Lab. Dustin can only shrug in response, his eyebrows raised as he realizes he never once thought to investigate the bracelet Seven wears over her wrist.
The others share similarly bewildered looks. Nobody seems quite sure what to say, and for a moment, nobody wants to be the one to interrupt.
Steve eventually caves. As much as he hates breaking up the moment, the reality of their situation is impossible to ignore.
“Uh, not to be that guy, but we should probably get moving. In case, ya know, there’s more Russians.”
Jonathan’s head whips toward him. “Russians?”
“You’re saying those guys were Russians?” Max inquires, alarm creeping into her voice.
“Yes!” Dustin and Steve reply in unison.
Robin looks between all of them, completely lost. “I’m still confused about the superpowers thing.”
Nancy’s attention shifts to her. “Sorry, who are you?”
“I’m Robin, Steve and I work together.”
Nancy accepts that answer with a small nod before looking toward Seven. “And who is she? I mean, besides…” she glances at Eleven, her voice carrying a questioning tone, “El’s sister…”
By now, Eleven has loosened her hold enough to pull back from the hug, but she remains standing close to Seven, her eyes fixed on her face as if she’s afraid looking away will somehow make her disappear.
“Her name’s Sev,” Dustin answers. Then, after a slight pause, his eyes widen slightly as the realization catches up to him. “Well… I guess Seven.”
The statement hangs in the air for a moment.
“We met her at the mall,” Steve adds. “She helped us decipher the Russian code.”
Dustin looks at Mike, throwing both hands up in disbelief.
“Did none of you hear the code red I sent out?”
Mike lets out a short laugh. “Dude, you were cutting out so bad we couldn’t hear shit.”
The conversation continues around them, everyone trying to make sense of information that seems to be arriving all at once. Questions overlap, explanations get interrupted. Nobody has the full story.
In the middle of it all, Eleven begins to drift. The strain she’d been pushing through since arriving at Starcourt starts catching up to her. Another thin stream of blood slips from her nose as the throbbing pain in her leg worsens, forcing her to shift her weight uncomfortably. The voices around her seem to blend together until she can barely separate one from another, and she slowly steps away from the group, lifting her hands to cover her ears.
Seven notices, her attention leaving the conversation the second she sees the change in Eleven’s posture, the distant look in her eyes, and the way she’s beginning to sway on her feet. Concern tightens in her chest as she starts toward her just as Eleven’s injured leg finally gives out from under her. Before she can hit the ground, Seven catches her, wrapping her arms around her and taking most of her weight, dropping to the floor with her.
The movement draws everyone’s attention at once. The conversation dies abruptly as they turn to find Eleven leaning heavily against Seven, eyes shut and breathing unevenly. Mike’s eyes widen as he rushes over to them, suddenly dropping into a crouch beside Seven and Eleven as the others quickly follow, crowding around them.
“El! El, are you okay?”
Eleven groans and forces herself upright slightly, her face twisted with pain as she carefully begins unwrapping the bandage around her leg. The fabric peels away from her shin, revealing the angry wound underneath. For a moment, nobody says anything. Then they see it — something shifting beneath her skin.
“Oh, God,” Dustin grimaces, recoiling.
“What is that?” Erica asks, her voice filled with disgust. Mike leans closer, panic and concern written all over his face as Eleven cries out in pain, the thing visibly slithering in her skin. Around them, everyone begins talking at once, throwing out panicked suggestions and questions as they try to make sense of what they’re seeing.
Jonathan is the first to act. He pushes himself to his feet so quickly he nearly stumbles.
“Keep her alert, alright? I’ll be right back.”
The words are barely out before he’s running toward one of the nearby food stands. He searches frantically through drawers and cabinets until he finds a pair of gloves, a wooden spoon, and a knife. Without wasting a second, he shoves the blade into a stove flame, doing his best to sterilize it before hurrying back.
By the time he returns, Mike is sitting behind Eleven with her back pressed against his chest, supporting most of her weight. Jonathan drops to his knees beside her injured leg and quickly pulls on the gloves.
“Here.” He hands Eleven the wooden spoon. “Bite down on this, okay?”
Eleven takes it with trembling hands and bites down hard. Jonathan gulps, his jaw tightening as he steadies the knife over the wound, bracing himself before carefully cutting into her skin.
Seven can only watch. Her eyes are wide with horror as she takes in the scene unfolding in front of her, her stomach twisting violently at the sight of blood and the sharp scream that tears from Eleven’s throat. Every instinct tells her to do something, to help somehow, but she has no idea what to do. For the first time since finding Eleven, she feels completely helpless. Her face scrunches in discomfort as Jonathan draws a shaky breath and cautiously pushes his fingers into the wound, searching for the creature lodged under the skin.
Seven winces as if she can feel it herself before something tugs at her attention. She glances down to see Eleven gripping her hand. Somewhere in the chaos, she must have reached for Seven without either of them realizing it. Seven tightens her hold, and Mike notices, his eyes flicking briefly to their joined hands before returning to the exhausted girl resting against him.
“Stop! Stop!” Eleven screams, her voice breaking from the pain.
“I can do it myself,” she whimpers as she slowly pushes herself upright. In the process, her hand slips from Seven’s grasp, the separation feeling oddly reluctant despite the urgency of everything happening around them.
“I can do it,” she repeats, more firmly this time. The others exchange uncertain looks, but Jonathan backs away from her leg, lowering the knife and giving her space.
Eleven raises a trembling hand and holds it inches above the throbbing wound. Her entire body strains with the effort as she concentrates, trying to force the creature out using what little strength she has left. The muscles in her arm shake violently, and the longer she pushes, the more obvious it becomes how enervated she is. A groan escapes her before turning into a scream as she forces herself to keep going.
Seven watches from beside her, her heart aching at the sight of her sister struggling.
As the seconds drag on, a dull ache begins to form behind her eyes. At first it’s subtle enough to ignore, but it steadily grows stronger, pulsing in time with the strain written across Eleven’s face. There is something different about it, something unknown. With every passing moment, Seven can feel Eleven weakening. She can feel her powers slipping through her grasp.
The realization settles over her almost instantly. Without allowing herself time to think about it, Seven focuses on Eleven’s trembling hand. Tears gather in her eyes as she reaches out with her own abilities, lending what strength she can. Pressure builds rapidly inside her head, and she feels the cool sensation of blood beginning to trail from her nose, but she doesn’t stop — she helps.
Eleven lets out a raw scream as the creature is finally pried from her skin. The thing tears free from the wound, and she immediately throws her hand outward, flinging it across the floor. The creature lands several feet away as the pressure that had filled the air abruptly disappears.
Seven releases a silent breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. The pounding in her head begins to ease, and she quickly wipes the blood from her nose before anyone around her has the chance to notice that she had been helping all along.
Unbeknownst to her, though, Eleven sensed her.
“Holy shit,” Robin breathes.
Eleven releases a shaky, weakened breath as the last of the tension drains from her body. Her head falls forward, her shoulders slumping with fatigue before she slowly turns toward Seven, panting heavily. Her eyes are red and glassy from pain and tears she hasn’t shed, but despite everything happening around them, they find Seven almost immediately.
The noise around them seems distant for a moment. Everyone else is still focused on the creature, the wound, and the impossible thing they just watched happen, but Seven barely notices any of it. Her attention remains fixed on Eleven, and as their eyes meet, something passes between them that nobody else seems to catch.
It isn’t spoken. It doesn’t need to be.
Seven had felt it while it was happening. She had felt Eleven’s strength fading with every second that passed, had felt her struggle to hold on, and had instinctively reached out to help. Now, looking into her eyes, she knows Eleven felt it too.
The terrible realization that the powers that had always been there were suddenly gone. The understanding settles heavily between them, quiet and heartbreaking. Seven’s chest aches as she continues to look at her. The second she first laid eyes on Eleven, she felt an overwhelming sense of responsibility toward her, one that only seems to deepen now that she understands who she is and where she came from. And it’s then that she knows this is where she belongs — right here with her new friends, and her sister.
A sudden, wet crunch shatters the moment.
Seven tears her eyes away as everyone else does the same, their attention snapping toward Hopper, Joyce, and Murray. They stand just beyond the food court, all three looking just as stunned to see the others as the others are to see them.
Eleven pushes herself to her feet as quickly as she can manage before limping toward Hopper. He meets her halfway, pulling her tightly, yet carefully against him without a word. Jonathan and Will hurry to Joyce, wrapping her in a hug as Murray hangs back, giving them the moment. The group gradually gathers at the nearby fountain.
Hopper returns a moment later with a cold ice pack and a drink for Eleven before helping her sit on planter’s ledge. She leans against his side while he gently holds the ice pack to her head. Across from them, Seven settles onto the fountain’s rim beside Robin. Eleven’s eyes find Seven almost immediately, and they linger. Robin draws her knees to her chest, and Seven glances toward her.
“Are you okay?”
Robin looks over, caught slightly off guard.
“Been better,” she admits with an awkward laugh. A faint smile crosses Seven’s face as Robin drops her gaze to her knees.
“Sorry about involving you in all this,” she mutters. “But… hey. At least you found your… sister. Who would’ve thought, right?” She shakes her head, wincing at herself. “Sorry.”
Seven’s eyebrows lift slightly at the rambling apology. “It’s okay.”
Robin keeps her head lowered, though her eyes lift up to meet Seven’s. A small, sheepish smile spreads across her face, carrying the lingering uncertainty of everything that’s transpired since Seven met them. Seven’s smile stays for only a moment before she looks back toward Eleven, who is still watching her.
Around them, everyone begins filling each other in on everything they’d missed. The panic has settled, but the tension hasn’t. It hangs quietly over the group, leaving the food court feeling strangely calm. Hopper notices where Eleven keeps looking, and when his eyes follow hers, they settle on Seven.
“Who’s that?” Hopper asks quietly.
Eleven takes a slow breath. “My sister.”
The words catch Hopper by surprise. His eyes cut from Eleven to Seven, his brow furrowing as he tries to make sense of what he just heard. For a second, he simply stares, his expression shifting from confusion to disbelief.
“Your… sister?” he repeats.
Joyce, sitting beside him, turns her head. “What did you say?”
“She was in the lab too,” Eleven says, her voice quiet but certain.
Joyce’s eyes widen. “There’s another one of you?”
Before Eleven can answer, Dustin speaks up from near them.
“We didn’t know either,” Dustin says earnestly. “She was in Scoops a few days ago, helped us with some Russian… then when El saw her…” He gestures between them. “She figured it out.”
Joyce’s attention moves to Seven. The girl is sitting quietly beside Robin, shoulders drawn in slightly, looking as overwhelmed as she is tired. Something in Joyce’s expression softens, and without another thought, she walks toward the fountain and stops in front of Seven. Seven looks up at her, subtle confusion all over her face.
Joyce doesn’t ask permission, she simply leans down and wraps her arms around her. The unexpected hug stuns Seven, and she stiffens for a beat before slowly returning it, unsure of what else to do. Joyce holds her a little tighter.
“Oh, honey…” she whispers, her voice full of sympathy. “I’m so sorry.”
Seven is every bit as awkward as Joyce is affectionate. After a brief hesitation, she gives Joyce’s back a couple of light, uncertain pats. Relief quietly settles in her chest when Joyce finally pulls away. Not because she’d disliked the hug, she hadn’t, she just hadn’t been ready for it.
From a few feet away, Will watches the exchange unfold. When Seven glances in his direction, he offers her a small, apologetic smile that says everything he doesn’t have to.
Yeah… that’s just my mom.
The gesture earns the faintest smile from Seven before she looks away, still trying to process the kindness she’d somehow stumbled into.
SUMMARY: Waking up before him, Eddie’s girlfriend sees that he’s still in bed beside her. Turns out he has a fever, and she ends up taking care of him for the day.
TAGS: Sick Eddie, domestic fluff, sick/comfort, established relationship, caretaking, freelance artist reader, Eddie is in his early 30s.
Fem!Reader is in her late 20s, though unnamed/undescribed. <3
Check out my masterlist for other works for this AU! ♥︎
Word Count: 2K
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
Pale morning light filtered softly through the bedroom curtains, painting warm stripes across the rumpled comforter and the hardwood floor beyond. Somewhere down the hall, the refrigerator hummed faintly through the otherwise silent house while rain tapped lazily against the kitchen windows, steady enough to blur the world outside into muted shades of gray.
She stirred slowly beneath the blankets, still caught somewhere between sleep and wakefulness. For a moment, she stayed exactly where she was, eyes still closed as she listened to the familiar sounds surrounding her. The ceiling fan turned steadily overhead, cool air brushing across the room, while the mattress shifted ever so slightly beside her.
A quiet grunt.
Her eyebrows pinched together. Still half asleep, she frowned faintly into her pillow before finally blinking her eyes open. The digital clock on Eddie’s nightstand glowed just after eight in the morning. Normally by now, he’d already be up, dressed for work, halfway through a cup of coffee, and teasing her about sleeping in while he headed off to Hawkins Auto.
Today, he hadn’t even gotten out of bed. He was still lying beside her, flat on his back with one forearm thrown over his eyes. His dark curls were even messier than usual, sticking out in every direction against the pillow, and every few moments another quiet, miserable little groan escaped him beneath his breath.
She propped herself up onto one elbow, studying him for a second.
“…Eddie?”
The only response she got was a low, sleepy hum that sounded more exhausted than conversational. That alone was enough to tell her something wasn’t right. She shifted to face him, gently guiding his arm away from where it was draped over his face.
“Are you sick?”
He exhaled heavily through his nose, squinting up at her with tired, bloodshot eyes before immediately grimacing and covering his face again.
“Oh, fuck, no,” he muttered into his palms, his voice rough and strained. “No, no, I’m fine. Just… slept weird.”
She arched an eyebrow. “You slept weird.”
“Yeah.” He sniffed sharply, rubbing his nose with the heel of his hand before shifting uncomfortably beneath the blankets. “Yep. Neck’s all messed up. That’s—that’s definitely it.”
She leaned over and pressed the back of her hand to his forehead before he could duck away. His skin was burning.
“Eddie.”
He groaned, twisting away from her touch like a petulant child.
“Okay, okay, maybe I feel like shit,” he admitted, his voice cracking halfway through. “But it’s probably just allergies.”
She gave him a knowing look. “Mhm. Allergies my ass.”
Sliding out of bed, she disappeared into the bathroom and returned a moment later with the thermometer she’d pulled from the drawer.
“Give me your head,” she instructed, switching it on. A tired huff escaped him that almost sounded like a laugh.
“If you insist.” He rolled onto his back, one hand disappearing beneath the blankets. She smacked him lightly over the covers, fighting a smile.
“Your forehead, dummy.”
A brief smirk crossed his face before another cough interrupted it. He brushed the bangs from his forehead, and she held the thermometer against his skin until it beeped.
“100.1,” she read. “Just like I thought. Sick.”
Eddie groaned dramatically before rolling onto his side and looping an arm around her hips, tugging her closer until he could bury his face against her thighs.
“I gotta go to work,” he grumbled.
“Tuh,” she scoffed. “Absolutely not. You’re staying right here and resting.”
She set the thermometer on the nightstand before gently working herself free from his hold.
“I’m gonna make you some tea,” she said, already heading toward the dresser. “Then I’m finding you some medicine.”
Eddie didn’t have much of a reply, which she took as the first sign he was finally accepting defeat. Once she moved his arm away from around her, he simply let it fall back onto the mattress and stayed where he was, watching her through half-lidded eyes as she got dressed and disappeared into the kitchen. A few minutes later, she returned carrying a steaming mug of tea in one hand and a medicine cup filled with DayQuil in the other.
“Eds,” she said, walking over to his side of the bed, “sit up and take this.”
With the world’s most dramatic sigh, Eddie slowly pushed himself upright for the first time that morning. His hair stuck out in every direction, his beard just as disheveled, faint creases from the blankets marked one side of his face, and the miserable expression he wore made him look every bit as sick as he felt. He eyed the little medicine cup with obvious suspicion before gingerly taking it between his fingers.
“How do I know you’re not trying to poison me?” His voice was hoarse enough to make the joke lose some of its usual charm, but he tipped the medicine back anyway. The second he swallowed, his face twisted in disgust.
“Ugh,” he groaned. “That is foul.”
She ignored the complaint, looking at him with equal parts amusement and sympathy as she held the mug out instead. “Tea.”
His fingers curled gratefully around the warm ceramic. He lifted it toward his face, letting the steam wash over him before taking a slow, careful sip. His eyes drifted shut for a brief moment, and he let out a quiet sigh through his nose.
“God,” he muttered into the rim of the mug, his voice muffled and scratchy, “you’re too good to me.”
She reached out without thinking, smoothing down a few stubborn strands of his hair before giving his scalp a gentle squeeze.
“Get some more rest,” she said, her tone leaving very little room for argument. “I’ll be in the office if you need me, okay?”
Eddie lowered the mug from his lips and wiped the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand. Then, without a word, he puckered his lips expectantly.
She looked at him, then at his lips, and her face scrunched almost instantly.
“As much as I love you…” she muttered. When he saw her hesitating, his expression melted into an exaggerated pout.
“Damn,” he said, sounding genuinely betrayed. “You’re gonna do me like that?”
A sympathetic, mildly disgusted noise escaped her. “You’re contagious.”
“So?”
She shook her head, laughing despite herself before finally giving in. Leaning over as quickly as humanly possible, she pecked his lips in what was quite possibly the shortest kiss either of them had ever shared before immediately pulling back.
“There,” she said. “Happy?”
A lazy grin spread across Eddie’s face. “Very.”
“Thank you, angel,” he murmured before taking another sip of his tea and setting the mug back on the nightstand.
Rolling her eyes with a smile, she left the bedroom, pulling the door nearly shut behind her before deliberately leaving it cracked open just enough to hear him if he called.
The home office wasn’t anything extravagant. It had once been the guest room until Eddie transformed it into a workspace for her after she moved in, knowing she’d need somewhere quiet to work as a freelance creator. One of the projects currently spread across her desk was a refreshed logo for Hawkins Auto, something Eddie had asked if she’d be willing to design. Naturally, she’d said yes. Settling into her chair, she picked up her pencil and quickly fell into a rhythm, her attention narrowing to the sketchbook in front of her. Time slipped by almost unnoticed until, less than two hours later, a faint, raspy voice drifted down the hallway.
“Baby…”
Her head lifted. “Yes?”
Silence.
Setting her pencil aside, she got up and walked back to the bedroom. Eddie hadn’t moved much. He was lying on his stomach with his face half-buried in the pillow, one eye barely cracked open as he looked at her.
“Can you make me more tea…”
She blinked at him, folding her arms as she took in the truly pitiful state he’d managed to become. Without a word, she picked up his mug, disappeared into the kitchen, and returned a few minutes later with a fresh cup before quietly heading back to her office.
That became the pattern for the rest of the morning. Almost every hour, Eddie called for her, and not in the way she was accustomed to. He was rarely sick, but when he was, he turned into the stereotypical man who suddenly needed the world to know exactly how miserable he felt. Sometimes he wanted something. Other times he simply wanted to announce his suffering.
“My throat hurts.”
“I hope Ray doesn't burn down the shop.”
“You think my D&D character ever gets sick?”
A pause.
“Did you know I love you?”
It wasn’t until a little after noon that she found herself slumped comfortably in her desk chair, laptop still open in front of her. Her head rested against her hand, her eyelids growing heavier with each passing minute until, without realizing it, she’d drifted off. A warm hand settled gently on her shoulder.
“Hey…”
She stirred, blinking sleepily as she craned her neck to look up at him. Eddie stood beside her wearing nothing but a pair of wrinkled gray sweatpants, his hair messy and his beard still a little tousled from sleep. He still looked a little pale, but the feverish haze in his eyes had softened into something closer to exhaustion than misery.
“Awe, angel…” he murmured with a tired smile.
She rubbed at her eyes as she sat up straighter. “Didn’t realize I fell asleep.” A yawn escaped her. “How’re you feeling?”
“Ehh.” He gave a small shrug, gesturing vaguely with one hand. “Better than this morning.” He sniffed, scratching lazily at his beard. “Hungry though. You want lunch?”
She raised a brow. “I was literally about to ask you the same thing.”
His smile grew a little. “Great minds.”
Taking her hand, he gently pulled her to her feet before leading her into the kitchen.
“I was thinking grilled cheese,” he said, already opening the refrigerator. Then he paused. “And tomato soup, if we still have a can.”
He gathered the cheese and butter before reaching for the bread on the counter. After rummaging briefly through one of the cabinets, he pulled out a can of tomato soup as well before setting a pan over the burner to warm.
“You sure you don’t want me to do that?” she asked.
“Nah.” He waved her off. “I got it.”
She leaned against the counter and watched as he buttered each slice before laying them into the pan. The kitchen filled with a familiar sizzle as he layered thick slices of sharp cheddar between them and flipped the sandwiches with ease. While they toasted, he emptied the soup into a small pot and stirred it occasionally until it began to steam.
“I really do feel better,” he said after a moment, glancing over with a small smile. “Promise.”
She answered with a skeptical hum, reaching up to press the back of her hand against his forehead. He was still warm, but nowhere near as hot as he had been that morning.
“Maybe,” she admitted.
Eddie chuckled under his breath as he ladled the tomato soup into two bowls before sliding a grilled cheese sandwich onto each plate. He took the first bite of his sandwich, letting out a satisfied little hum before dipping the next into the warm soup. They ate together, the shared silence broken only by the occasional sniffle from Eddie and the steady rain outside.
He nudged her shoulder with his. “Told you I was fine.”
She rolled her eyes, though she leaned into him anyway. “You’re still taking it easy for the rest of the night.”
“Whatever you say, angel.” Eddie smiled, leaning over to press a kiss against the side of her head before murmuring into her hair, “Thanks for taking care of me.”
A quiet laugh escaped her through a mouthful of grilled cheese.
“No problem, baby,” she replied once she’d swallowed, her voice warm.
He watched her for a second, the fondness on his face impossible to miss, before leaning over to steal one more quick kiss. Only then did he pick up his sandwich again, the two of them settling back into the comfortable silence as they ate.
Guided by a mysterious force, Severa flees Blackmere House into the Black Forest.
(I wrote this a while ago, not sure if it's entirely proofread.)
Word Count: 2.7k
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
The next day.
By the late afternoon, with dusk beginning to dim the sky beyond her window, Severa feels as though the walls of her room are gradually shrinking around her. Nurse Maren remains stationed near her door, periodically checking in often enough that Severa no longer feels alone even in silence. Every meal has been delivered directly to her room, her walks through the gardens suspended, and the window itself locked tightly shut.
What once merely felt like confinement has now solidified into something undeniable. Worst of all, Dr. Blackmere had taken her journal before he left her last night. The violation of it continues to churn endlessly in her mind, leaving her feeling exposed in a way she can barely tolerate.
And somewhere between the panic and the anger, part of her keeps silently begging for Edward to come back. Now that she knows he’s real — and understands the strange sense of safety his presence brings — his absence only makes the walls of this damned room feel even more suffocating.
The light rumble of thunder is an indicator that Dravenia is in for yet another stormy night, and Severa pays no mind despite her love for storms. She sits curled against the headboard with her knees drawn tightly to her chest, her eyes only lifting when the door opens yet again. Her eyes lift; she expects Nurse Maren, but instead, something far colder enters the room.
Dr. Blackmere steps inside carrying a tray lined with plain roasted chicken, boiled potatoes, and bread, Severa’s posture immediately stiffening as he lets himself in. The sight of his familiar, carefully composed expression makes her stomach turn easily.
“Good evening,” he greets flatly.
Severa stares at him, jaw clenching imperceptibly as she watches him set the tray down at the foot of the bed.
“I’ve taken the liberty of bringing you your dinner, as well as this,” Dr. Blackmere slips a hand into his coat pocket before withdrawing Severa’s journal, holding it up between them with an almost taunting calmness. He lightly tosses the journal onto the bed near Severa’s feet, and her eyes immediately drop to it.
Within seconds, she notices several loose pieces of paper jutting unevenly from between the pages — subtle enough that most people wouldn't catch it, yet obvious enough for her to tell things have been stripped from inside.
“I removed what was worsening your condition,” Dr. Blackmere states evenly, leaving no space for Severa to argue before he turns and walks out of the room.
The second the door shuts behind him, Severa reaches for the journal with trembling hands. The moment it’s against her chest again, she hurriedly flips through the pages, panic building sharper with every turn. Then her movements stop.
Every sketch of Edward had been torn out.
The sight of the torn pages sends something inside Severa crashing apart completely. Every sketch — every careful line she had spent years drawing from dreams she never understood — had been taken from her like they meant nothing. The realization hits Severa with such force that for a moment, she can barely think around it.
Those drawings were hers. The only proof she had that she wasn't losing her mind long before Edward ever stepped out of the forest that night.
Now even that has been ripped away.
A sharp, uneven breath tears from her as panic overtakes her all at once, her lungs struggling to pull in air properly while tears blur the pages in front of her. She can’t even run to him, can't even search for his face beyond the stolen moments in the forest she no longer has access to.
The room suddenly feels suffocatingly small, the walls pressing inward as her breathing breaks into frantic, shaky gasps.
With a broken sound of frustration and grief, Severa suddenly hurls the journal across the room, where it crashes harshly against the floorboards and slides crookedly beneath the door.
Severa folds inward like paper collapsing into flame, burying her face in her trembling hands as the first sob tears through her body; she forces herself to keep quiet, terrified of giving Dr. Blackmere an excuse to return to her room.
Severa refuses to give him the satisfaction of seeing that he’s broken her. And yet, alone within the crushing confines of her room, she cries harder than she has in years.
A sudden flash of lightning spills across the floor through the cracks of her curtains, and at that exact moment, the discarded journal abruptly flips open on its own; pages rustling violently before stopping at a blank sheet.
Severa slowly lifts her head, tears blurring her vision as her eyes lock onto the journal from across the room. Faint writing begins carving itself slowly into the empty page.
Inhaling shakily, Severa slowly slips off the bed and moves across the room toward the journal, every movement cautious as though she’s afraid the strange moment will disappear if she moves too quickly. She carefully lifts it from the floor, blinking several times to steady her blurred vision before her eyes finally settle on the words now etched on the page:
Take the east stairs.
Exit through the garden door.
Climb the gate.
Do not look back.
Severa stares at the words, her fingers tightening around the journal's spine until the leather creaks. The handwriting isn't hers — it’s sharper, darker ink bleeding into the fibers as if pressed there by something less… human. Another crack of lightning illuminates the page, and for a heartbeat, the letters seem to pulse.
She hesitates only a second longer before snapping the journal shut and lunging for the dressing gown draped over her chair. The fabric slips over her shoulders, her movements frantic as she knots the sash with shaking fingers.
Pressing her ear against the door, Severa listens for Nurse Maren’s footsteps, but the hall beyond is silent save for the distant murmur of voices downstairs.
The east stairs.
She knows them well, narrow and tucked behind a tapestry near the linen closet, rarely used by staff. Her fingers curl around the doorknob, twisting slowly until the latch releases with a quiet click.
She moves stealthily, her bare feet soundless against the worn floorboards. The journal stays tucked tightly beneath her arm, its edges digging into her ribs as she slips into the dim hallway. Shadows stretch long from the flickering sconces, and Severa uses them, weaving between patches of darkness. A floorboard creaks underfoot; she freezes, heart hammering against her throat, but no one calls out. The tapestry hangs slightly askew ahead, its embroidered vines parting just enough to reveal the hidden stairwell. Severa parts the tapestry and quickly descends the narrow stairwell.
The garden door.
Her eyes flick toward the right at the bottom of the stairs, where a modest wooden door rests within the stone wall, its dark iron handle worn with age. She slips through it quickly, the door shutting softly behind her.
The storm brews violently overhead, thunder rumbling through the sky as though the weather itself can feel the intensity of her emotions. Rain begins pouring down in heavy sheets, soaking her clothes almost instantly, but Severa barely notices as she breaks into a run toward the back of the property.
Climb the gate.
Adrenaline surges sharply through her body as she wipes rain frantically from her eyes, even though more immediately replaces it. Without allowing herself time to think twice, she grabs the cold iron bars and climbs over the small gate, dropping breathlessly onto the other side.
Severa slowly straightens, rain pouring over her as her eyes lift toward the Black Forest before her. From this side of the gate, the trees feel impossibly larger, their dark branches stretching overhead as though the forest itself is waiting to consume her whole.
Do not look back.
And she doesn’t. Her gaze remains fixed on the thickening darkness ahead as she begins walking deeper between the trees.
The deeper Severa walks into the Black Forest, the more uncertainty begins creeping beneath her determination. Every direction looks the same beneath the storm-darkened trees, endless shadows twisting between thick trunks while rain patters steadily through the branches overhead. She realizes with growing frustration that she has no idea where she’s actually supposed to go.
Stay beneath the trees, a voice suddenly whispers through the rain, sounding as though it comes from both the forest around her and somewhere deep within her own mind.
Severa abruptly stops walking, her breath catching as the unfamiliar voice slips through her mind like smoke. It isn’t heard aloud. Nothing moves around her. Yet the words feel unmistakably real all the same.
And if you hear your name called, the voice continues lowly, do not answer.
𑁍𑁍𑁍
Edward abruptly stops mid-step within the dark corridor of the castle, the heels of his boots grinding softly against the stone floor as a sudden, violent unease crawls beneath his skin. The storm outside growls against the towering windows, flashes of lightning briefly illuminating the ancient portraits lining the walls before plunging everything back into shadow. For a moment, he stands perfectly still, listening.
Something is wrong.
His fists clench briefly as his eyes narrow toward the empty hall ahead of him.
“You are awfully quiet,” he says warily into the darkness, the remark carrying easily through the castle’s silence.
“Where are you?”
No answer comes.
The absence of it unsettles him almost immediately. The Shadow has always lingered near him in some form, always answered when called. Edward’s jaw tightens sharply as irritation begins bleeding into the edges of his composure.
“Do not ignore me,” he says more firmly, the quiet demand echoing through the corridor as he slowly takes a few steps. Still nothing. Not even the familiar shift in darkness. And slowly, against his will, something dangerously close to worry begins creeping into his chest.
Then suddenly, Edward stills completely.
A heartbeat.
Faint at first beneath the storm, but unmistakable to him. His eyes flick upward as another sensation follows closely behind it — the soft scent of rain clinging to skin, familiar enough to make something inside him ache instantly.
Severa.
She’s close, and much closer than she should be.
Realization strikes him almost instantly afterward. The Shadow is not answering because it’s with her. Guiding her through the Black Forest.
For one brief moment, relief almost overtakes him at the thought of her willingly finding her way to the castle, and it dies just as quickly as it came. Edward’s expression abruptly hardens as another presence makes itself known at the edge of his senses, colder and far more distant, steadily trailing behind her through the forest.
A sick feeling settles heavily in Edward’s chest as he realizes Severa is being followed, and she has no idea.
𑁍𑁍𑁍
Breathless, Severa stumbles to a stop in the middle of a small clearing, one hand pressed tightly against her chest as if it might somehow calm the frantic pounding beneath her ribs. Rain crashes endlessly through the trees around her, soaking through her clothes while she blinks harshly against the water streaming into her eyes. A sick feeling slowly creeps up from the back of her throat, forcing her to swallow it down.
Her chest rises sharply with every uneven breath as anxiety settles heavily into her nerves alongside the growing sickness. An unbearable feeling suddenly washes over her, strange and deeply instinctive, as though she’s standing somewhere she already knows intimately without understanding why.
It feels wrong here. Not dangerous in the ordinary sense; almost familiar… haunted, like some buried part of her already knows this place far too well.
“Severa!” A voice roars through the trees, startling her enough to shake away the nausea. Severa’s head whips around at once, a sharp breath catching in her lungs.
Keep moving, it whispers once more, demanding.
Her feet begin moving almost instinctively, propelled entirely by fear as the horrifying realization crashes into her that someone has been following her through the forest. Wet leaves and snapping twigs crunch beneath her feet, though she doesn’t feel them as she runs blindly through the darkness. Then, a faint light flickers between the trees ahead.
Severa’s eyes widen as the forest suddenly begins thinning around her, the dense branches scattering enough for something enormous to emerge beyond them. A dark, towering structure rises against the storm-darkened sky.
A castle.
The moment Severa steps clear of the treeline, a hand suddenly grips her arm from behind, fingers biting into her flesh as she’s yanked backward with brutal force. Severa gasps sharply as her body twists against the motion, her journal slipping from beneath her arm and hitting the wet earth with a dull thud as Dr. Blackmere’s face suddenly fills her vision. The look in his eyes stills her completely. The calm focus he always carries is gone, replaced by something wild and deeply unsettling, a frantic intensity she has never seen in him before.
“Leaving without permission?” he asks, his voice low and deceptively calm despite the fury burning in his gray eyes. Rain drips from his dark hair as he looms over her, his grip tightening painfully. “I expected better from you, Severa.”
Severa’s pulse roars in her ears as she tries twisting free, but Dr. Blackmere’s fingers dig deeper, pulling her closer until she can smell the damp wool of his coat. A sharp wave of confusion cuts through her panic. She never saw him leave Blackmere House — how had he managed to get this close behind her already?
“Let go of me!” Severa yells angrily, ignoring the growing pain from her arm. The moment his fingers begin to tighten around her arm, the air between them suddenly tears violently apart.
Edward materializes between them with unnatural speed, one hand clamping around Dr. Blackmere’s wrist hard enough to immediately force his grip away from Severa. She stumbles backward, her eyes widening in shock as they fly to Edward. The speed at which he appeared between them had been impossible; far too fast, far too unnatural for any normal human being.
“I warned you once, Ephraim,” Edward says, his voice low and lethal beneath the roar of the storm. “Do not force me to warn you again.”
Dr. Blackmere’s face twists into something coldly furious as he wrenches his wrist free from Edward’s grip, taking a slow step backward while rain drips from his darkened hair and coat. His gaze flickers toward Severa before settling back onto Edward, a thin, taunting smile slowly pulling at his mouth.
“Here she is,” he murmurs, quiet bitterness seething in his tone. “Running blindly into your arms as though you are not the very reason she suffers."
Edward doesn’t respond to Dr. Blackmere’s accusation — doesn’t even acknowledge it beyond the slightest tightening of his jaw. Instead, Edward's head abruptly turns toward Severa, his expression unreadable beneath the storm. Rain drips steadily from his dark lashes as he studies her, his eyes darting swiftly toward the castle hovering behind them before returning to hers. His voice drops, barely audible beneath the storm.
“When I tell you to run,” he mumbles, barely moving his lips, “you run.”
Even through the shock and fear gripping her, Severa finds herself nodding faintly anyway. Before she can react further, Dr. Blackmere lets out a quiet, mocking laugh.
“Still pretending to be her protector, Edward?” he asks, venom dripping from every word. He takes another slow step forward, eyes gleaming coldly through the storm. “Tell me… how long before she finally sees you for what you truly are?”
Edward's lips curl back in a silent snarl, as his hand snaps out faster than thought, fingers closing like iron around Dr. Blackmere’s throat. Without ever breaking his piercing stare into the doctor’s glaring eyes, Edward orders, low and dangerous, “Run.”
Severa’s breath catches sharply when, for the quickest moment beneath a flash of lightning, she catches the glimpse of elongated fangs behind Edward’s lips. Horror flickers across her face, her body hesitating for half a second at the inhuman sight before fear overtakes everything else entirely.
Thunder cracks violently overhead as she turns and runs toward the castle, her bare feet slipping against the rain-slick stone as she rushes through the massive entrance. The moment she stumbles inside, she subconsciously glances back toward the storm.
But neither Edward nor Dr. Blackmere are anywhere in sight.
Whether the storm has swallowed them from view or they vanished entirely, she cannot tell. She only stands there breathlessly staring into the rain until the enormous castle doors slowly swing shut with a thunderous boom.
𝙿𝙻𝙴𝙰𝚂𝙴 𝚁𝙴𝙰𝙳: All writings are organized in chronological order, with dates included in each post. While I don’t always write scenes chronologically, they are listed here in the order they take place. Not every event is written out; these blurbs focus on the moments that shape Seven’s story. I have plenty more written and waiting in the vault; I’m just proofreading and revising before posting, so updates will come gradually.
If you would like to keep up with Seven's story, her tag is 'seven 007' ‹𝟹
Disclaimer: Stranger Things belongs to the Duffer Brothers and Netflix. Seven and all original storylines belong to me. Some blurbs incorporate canon scenes with minor dialogue adjustments to fit Seven into the story.
─── 𓇢𓆸 ───
𝙿𝚁𝙴𝙼𝙸𝚂𝙴: Seven’s visit to Starcourt Mall takes an unexpected turn after she overhears a conversation inside Scoops Ahoy.
𝚆𝙾𝚁𝙳 𝙲𝙾𝚄𝙽𝚃: 1.5K
𝙰𝙿𝙿𝙴𝙰𝚁𝙰𝙽𝙲𝙴𝚂 𝙱𝚈: Seven, Dustin, Robin, Steve.
𝚃𝙰𝙶𝚂: First meeting, humor, friendship.
𝙰𝚄𝚃𝙷𝙾𝚁'𝚂 𝙽𝙾𝚃𝙴: None.
─── 𓇢𓆸 ───
July 1st, 1985.
The air inside Starcourt Mall hums with conversation, music, and the steady shuffle of hundreds of footsteps echoing across polished tile floors. Bright storefronts spill light into the wide corridors, their colorful displays competing for attention as families wander between shops with paper bags swinging from their wrists. Somewhere overhead, upbeat pop music filters through hidden speakers, blending with the distant laughter of children and the occasional crackle of the mall intercom. Beneath the constant movement, one corner of the food court sits noticeably quieter than the rest, where the familiar blue-and-white counter of Scoops Ahoy waits between customers.
Seven has visited Starcourt Mall a handful of times since it opened. It gives her the rare opportunity to observe people from a distance, to feel a small sense of normalcy without having to fully immerse herself in the crowd. She never buys anything, though. Partly because she has no money, and partly because there’s nowhere for her to keep anything she owns beyond the worn duffel bag hidden deep in the woods.
Since Ronnie’s passing, Seven has been alone. Finding food and a place to sleep has become a daily challenge, forcing her to rely on her powers whenever she absolutely has to. A sandwich left unattended, a drink soundlessly lifted from a shelf. Enough to get by, and never more than she needs.
Keeping her head down, Seven weaves through the bustling crowd with her hands tucked into the pockets of her oversized zip-up hoodie. She slows to a stop in front of Scoops Ahoy, brushing her dark hair over one shoulder as her eyes drift up to the bright blue sign before landing on the two employees working behind the counter. A girl with a messy blonde bob tucked beneath a blue-and-white sailor hat quietly banters with her coworker. He looks around her age, and the two of them wear different versions of the same bright blue Scoops Ahoy uniform. Seven’s eyes drift down to the display of ice cream flavors, her stomach giving a low grumble despite herself.
Upon noticing her, the guy trails off mid-conversation and steps around his coworker, making his way over to the counter. Running a quick hand through his hair, he flashes her an easy, charming smile.
“Ahoy,” he says. “Welcome to Scoops, I’m Steve.” He gestures toward the display of ice cream before looking back at her. “What can I get for you?”
Seven glances at him, freezing almost imperceptibly. “Um… just looking right now,” she murmurs, folding her arms loosely across her chest. Steve’s smile doesn’t waver.
“No worries,” he says, resting his forearms against the counter. “Take your time. Though if I may recommend something, the USS Butterscotch’s pretty popular.”
The conversation is interrupted by hurried footsteps approaching from the employee hallway. Seven’s eyes shift briefly to see a boy approaching, with brown curly hair underneath his cap.
“Robin,” the boy says, keeping his voice low as he hurries over with the Walkman already in his hands. “Listen to this part again. Tell me if you hear the same thing.”
“Uh, Dustin,” Steve says, subtly gesturing toward Seven. “Kinda helping a customer here.”
Dustin looks over at him, one eyebrow lifting. “Good thing I asked Robin.”
Steve lets out a subtle scoff as Robin takes one of the headphones, her expression sharpening with concentration. “Go.”
Dustin presses play and Robin listens closely, her brows knitting together before she reaches over to rewind it herself. “Again.”
He nods, and the recording plays a second time. Steve stays at the counter with Seven, determined to look like he’s actually doing his job, but he can’t help glancing over every few seconds. He keeps trying to focus on Seven, only for his attention to drift right back to Robin and Dustin’s hushed discussion. Robin slips the headphone off one ear.
“I think he says serebryanyy (Серебряный),” she says carefully. “Copper?”
Seven looks up.
“That doesn’t mean copper,” she says before she can stop herself. “It means silver.”
Robin’s head whips around toward her. Steve’s eyebrows lift slightly as he looks from Seven to Robin and Dustin. They exchange a quick glance before both turning their full attention back to her, their interest in the tape suddenly replaced by curiosity.
“Wait,” Dustin says, taking a step closer. “You know Russian?”
Robin rests her hands atop the counter and leans forward slightly, studying Seven questioningly. Seven shifts her weight, her fingers absently tapping against her sleeve as a known uneasiness settles in. Aside from Ronnie, she can’t remember the last time she’d had a real conversation with anyone.
“I taught myself a bit,” she admits with a small shrug.
Dustin raises a brow. “You taught yourself Russian?”
She gives a quick nod. “Mostly colors, animals, numbers... Just little things.”
Dustin blinks at her for a second before looking at Robin.
“Okay, that’s actually kinda cool,” Robin remarks. As the words leave her mouth, an idea begins to form. The thoughtful look spreading across her face is subtle, but Dustin catches it almost immediately. Steve catches it a second later, and the two of them exchange a knowing glance before looking back at her.
“Oh, no,” Dustin mutters.
“Robin,” Steve says cautiously.
“What?”
“I know that face.”
Robin looks at Seven. “Excuse us.”
Before either of them can protest, she grabs Dustin by the wrist and Steve by the sleeve, steering them through the employee door and into the break room. She doesn’t let go until the door swings shut behind them, then turns back around with the excited look of someone whose brain is moving faster than her mouth. “She knows Russian.”
“She knows some Russian,” Steve corrects.
“Exactly,” Robin says. “Which is already more than we know.”
“She corrected one word,” Steve replies.
“One word we’ve been stuck on,” Robin shoots back. “Steve, we’ve been listening to that tape for hours. If she knows colors, numbers, animals — who knows what else she knows?”
Steve shakes his head, the excitement on Robin’s face doing nothing to ease the knot forming in his stomach. “No.”
Robin blinks. “No?”
“No.” He folds his arms across his chest. “I’m not dragging some random girl into this. We don’t know who she is, and I’m definitely not putting somebody else in danger because of this Russian crap.”
Robin lets out a frustrated breath, already expecting the response. “Who said anything about telling her the truth?” she asks. “We don’t tell her where the recording came from. We make something up.”
Steve’s expression doesn’t change.
“We say a friend found it, or somebody wants it translated. Or it’s for a class, I don’t care.” Robin shrugs. “She helps with a few words, then she leaves. That’s it.”
Steve falters as his eyes drift toward the break room window, his concern sitting heavy even as he considers it. “I still don’t like lying to her.”
Dustin has been suspiciously quiet through most of the conversation, his eyes bouncing between the two of them while he thinks it over.
“She doesn’t need to know anything about the Russians,” he says at last. “Robin’s right. We just need help with the translation.”
Steve lets out a long, frustrated sigh through his nose. “I still think it’s a bad idea. I mean, we don’t even know the girl’s name.”
Robin is already looking through the window of the break room, and freezes instantly.
“Oh, shit.”
Without waiting for either of them to stop her, Robin pushes through the door and hurries after Seven as she starts walking away from the counter.
“Wait!” she calls. Seven slows and turns back as Robin comes to a stop in front of her, slightly out of breath from rushing over.
“Sorry, I, uh…” Robin gestures awkwardly toward her name tag. “I’m Robin. In case you—” She catches herself and shakes her head.
“Anyway, so, what’s your name?”
Seven’s apprehensive gaze stays locked on her, pulling her sleeves into her fists subconsciously.
“Sev,” she says softly. Robin nods, a small smile spreading across her face.
“Cool. Sev…” She hesitates for a second, her face scrunching before offering an apologetic smile. “Do you… mind helping us with something?”
Seven’s expression pinches with confusion, uncertainty creeping into her features as she looks at Robin. After a moment, her gaze drifts past her to the counter, where Steve and Dustin are both watching.
Steve looks like he’s holding his breath.
Dustin looks nervous too, though there’s an undeniable hint of hope behind it. Neither of them comes close to matching the obvious optimism written all over Robin’s face.
Seven hesitates, her lips twisting thoughtfully as she considers the request. She isn’t used to being asked for help, much less trusting her with something important. The foreign feeling sits heavily in her chest as she draws in a slow breath, glancing between the three of them one last time before giving a small, tentative nod. Steve’s shoulders relax with a subtle sigh as Robin breaks into a grin.
“Yes,” she whispers to herself, unable to hide her excitement before quickly motioning with her hand. “C’mon.” She turns and heads back toward the break room without another thought.
Seven lingers where she is for only a second before quietly following after her.
─── 𓇢𓆸 ───
𝙿𝚁𝙴𝙼𝙸𝚂𝙴: Ronnie, an older woman living on the outside of Hawkins, discovers a young girl in the woods around her home.
𝚆𝙾𝚁𝙳 𝙲𝙾𝚄𝙽𝚃: 3.4K
𝙰𝙿𝙿𝙴𝙰𝚁𝙰𝙽𝙲𝙴𝚂 𝙱𝚈: Seven, Ronnie Jean.
𝚃𝙰𝙶𝚂: Found family, hurt/comfort, healing, telekinesis, time skips, major character death, angst, grief.
𝙰𝚄𝚃𝙷𝙾𝚁'𝚂 𝙽𝙾𝚃𝙴: If you’re here, thank you for giving Seven a chance. I hope you love her as much as I do. ‹𝟹
─── 𓇢𓆸 ───
August 22nd, 1979.
Water trickles steadily from the spout of an old metal watering can, darkening the soil beneath a row of tomato plants. The woman moves unhurriedly through her garden, pausing every so often to pinch away a wilted leaf or straighten a stem leaning too heavily beneath its own weight. Years of tending the small patch of earth have made the routine second nature, quiet enough that the chirping of crickets and the rustling woods beyond her backyard fade into the background. She lifts the watering can again, carefully soaking the next row before setting it down beside the garden bed with a faint clink against the packed earth.
A soft crunch sounds to the left behind the woman, causing her to freeze mid-movement, her ears instantly pricking up. She was old, not oblivious.
Slowly, she turns her head toward the sound. At first, all she can make out is a small figure standing between the trees roughly twenty-five feet away. Squinting, she takes a few cautious steps closer until the figure comes into focus.
“What in God’s name…” Her expression immediately softens.
Standing among the trees is a young girl wearing a tattered hospital gown, her bare feet caked in dirt. Dark stubble covers her shaved head, and her heavy-lidded eyes are dulled with exhaustion. Dirt streaks across her arms and legs, making it difficult to tell where the grime ends and bruises begin.
The girl doesn’t say a word. She doesn’t run, either. She only stands there, silently watching as the woman continues her careful approach.
“Hi there,” the woman greets, her voice soft and gentle.
She slows to a stop as she notices the subtle change in the girl’s breathing, deciding not to come any closer. Folding her hands loosely in front of herself, she offers the girl a comforting smile.
“I ain’t sure where you came from,” she says. “But I ain’t gonna hurtcha.”
The girl’s jaw tightens ever so slightly, the only outward sign of her hesitation. Even through the overwhelming exhaustion weighing on her, the wariness in her eyes remains. The corners of her lips twitch downward before she finally speaks, her voice so timid and unsteady it’s almost swallowed by the breeze.
“Food?”
The woman’s brows lift slightly at the single-word request, but she doesn’t comment on its abruptness. She knows hunger when she sees it. Nodding slowly, she turns toward the house, taking care to move deliberately so the girl can see exactly what she’s doing.
“I got some leftover chicken and biscuits from supper last night,” she calls over her shoulder. “You stay right there, I’ll be right back.”
A few minutes later, she steps back outside carrying a plate of food. Her steps falter — the girl hasn’t run. Instead, she’s moved closer, now standing silently in the middle of the yard.
Her tired eyes remain fixed on the food, flicking back and forth between the plate and the woman’s face as though waiting for permission to believe it was really meant for her. Understanding the silent reluctance, the woman slowly extends the plate toward her, a small, reassuring smile settling across her wrinkled face.
Closing the space between them, the girl carefully pinches off a piece of biscuit with her fingers and slips it into her mouth. She chews slowly, deliberately, as though forcing herself not to devour the entire plate at once. The woman watches her with quiet pity.
“G’on,” she urges softly, giving the plate a gentle nudge toward her. “You can eat on the porch, if you want.”
The girl stalls only a moment before cautiously taking the plate into her own hands. She follows the woman up the porch steps, remaining a few feet behind until they reach the front porch. The woman eases herself onto one of the wicker benches, and after a brief pause, the girl settles onto the one across from her.
For a few seconds, she remains tense, clutching the plate in her lap — then hunger wins. Her anxiety is quickly overpowered as she begins eating, unable to hide just how desperately hungry she is.
The woman doesn’t speak as the girl eats, allowing her to focus solely on the food. Instead, she watches her with careful curiosity, noting the way her fingers tremble slightly against the plate. Slowly, she reaches for the pitcher of lemonade she’d left on the porch table earlier and pours a glass.
“Here,” she murmurs, sliding it toward her. “Slow sips, now. Don’t wantcha sick.”
The girl’s eyes meet hers after a moment, pausing mid-chew before cautiously resuming. She reaches for the glass, taking two long gulps before swallowing the food in her mouth and wiping at her lips with the back of her hand.
“My name’s Ronnie Jean, but you can call me Ronnie.”
The girl looks up at her, setting the glass back down with a soft clink.
“Got a name I can call you?” Ronnie asks, her voice gentle.
Ronnie watches as the girl’s eyes drift to her own left wrist for just a moment. Lowering her head, she hesitantly extends her arm, revealing the small tattoo etched into the inside of her wrist — 007. Her breath catches as she sees the tattoo, but she doesn’t react beyond a slow nod.
“Seven,” she murmurs, as if testing the name. Then, with a light chuckle, she leans forward slightly. “Well, I guess that’s better than most numbers your mama could’ve picked. Lucky seven.”
Seven tears off another piece of chicken and slips it into her mouth, absentmindedly licking the grease from her fingers as Ronnie folds her hands in her lap.
“I can call ya Sevvy, if that’s alright?”
The far corners of Seven’s mouth twitch upward ever so slightly, almost forming a smile. Her eyes never leave the plate in her lap as she gives a single, small nod.
Ronnie smiles warmly and gives a slight nod of her own. “Alright then. Sevvy it is.”
August 22nd, 1982
Seven sits atop the washing machine with her legs folded beneath her, her dark hair pulled back into a loose braid that hangs down her back. Holding one hand out in front of her, she moves her fingers in slow, deliberate motions, her full attention fixed on the old flannel as it neatly folds itself atop the dryer.
With Ronnie gone for the past hour and a half running errands, the house is wrapped in a rare, comfortable silence. Left to herself, Seven spends the time the way she always does whenever she’s alone or lying awake in her room at night: quietly practicing her powers.
Ever since Ronnie found her that day, Seven has stayed with the older woman. Not long after taking her in, Ronnie gave her a slightly worn braided leather bracelet, which Seven now wears around her left wrist every day, the weathered leather hiding the faded ink beneath it. She rarely takes it off. The tattoo has a way of pulling her back to memories she’d rather leave buried.
Ronnie never asks questions or presses Seven about where she came from. Instead, she reminds her time and time again that she doesn’t have to talk until she’s ready, but that she’ll always be there to listen. Over the years, Seven gradually begins sharing pieces of herself, though she always remains vague. The fear never truly leaves her. Somewhere in the back of her mind lingers the belief that one day the bad men will find her, and if they do, Ronnie will get hurt because of it.
Ronnie never promises that won’t happen.
Instead, she reassures Seven in quieter, gentler ways that she is safe here. Although Seven has a hard time believing anyone could truly keep her safe, she treasures the woman’s unwavering kindness more than she knows how to express.
Ronnie knows, at least vaguely, about Seven’s abilities, but Seven still chooses to practice only when she’s alone.
Aside from helping her learn to control her powers, Ronnie teaches her the ordinary things she had never been given the chance to learn. She shows Seven how to sew, cook simple meals, tend a garden, braid her own hair, and read maps. She even lets Seven practice driving her old Ford F-100 up and down the long gravel driveway, despite the girl being only fifteen. Whenever Seven questions it, Ronnie simply smiles and says, “If you ever need to, you’ll know how.”
Over time, Ronnie comes to care for Seven as though she were her own daughter, while still giving her the space she so often needs. Seven appreciates that more than Ronnie probably realizes, yet there are nights when the loneliness becomes too heavy to carry by herself. On those nights, she soundlessly slips into Ronnie’s room and lies beside her while Ronnie absentmindedly plays with her hair, telling stories about growing up, her childhood adventures, or the family that doesn’t visit nearly as often anymore.
Those stories almost always leave Seven emotional. Ronnie never lets her dwell on it for long.
“Oh, don’t cry over me, silly,” she’ll say with a fond smile. “I’m doin’ just fine where I am.”
Then she’ll give Seven’s shoulder a playful squeeze before shooing her off with a gentle, “G’on to bed.”
Just as Seven finishes folding the flannel, her head snaps toward the sound of the front door opening, the small bell jingling before the door swings shut again.
“Just me,” Ronnie calls, as she always does whenever she comes home.
Seven wipes her nose quickly as she hops down from the washing machine. She makes her way into the quaint little kitchen, where potted plants line the windowsills and the warm scent of dried herbs and spices lingers in the air. Ronnie is already setting her bags on the counter, sorting through the day’s errands. A few are filled with groceries, while others are stuffed with neatly folded clothes.
Whenever she could, Ronnie always managed to bring home something for Seven to wear, whether it was from the general store or a secondhand shop in town. More often than not, though, Seven found herself reaching for Ronnie’s clothes instead, the oversized sweaters and worn flannels carrying a familiarity and comfort she’d grown quietly attached to.
“Gotcha somethin’,” Ronnie announces, holding out a small paper bag with a knowing grin. “Saw it and figured you’d like it.”
Seven steps forward, pausing only briefly before taking the bag from her hands. Peering inside, she carefully pulls out a soft knit sweater, deep green in color, the sleeves long enough that she can already tell they’ll fall past her wrists. Her fingers curl around the fabric as she holds it up, admiring it in the warm afternoon light spilling through the kitchen window.
“Thank you,” she murmurs, glancing up at Ronnie. “I like it.”
Ronnie lets out a soft chuckle and gives Seven’s shoulder an affectionate squeeze before returning to the groceries. “Figured it was your color.”
Seven watches her for a moment as Ronnie effortlessly sorts everything into its proper place. After a beat, she slips the sweater over her tank top, tugging it down as the sleeves drape loosely over her hands. The fabric is soft against her skin, carrying a faint scent of pine mixed with the familiar smell of Ronnie’s soap.
“Smells like you,” Seven says casually, absentmindedly brushing her fingers over one of the sleeves. Ronnie glances over her shoulder, the corners of her mouth lifting.
“Well, that’s ‘cause I been carryin’ it ‘round all mornin’.” She gives Seven a playful wink before nodding toward one of the grocery bags. “Got some apples too, if you’re hungry.”
Seven nods and steps beside her, helping unpack the rest of the groceries. Ronnie passes her the bag of apples, and Seven carries them over to the wooden fruit bowl on the counter, pausing only long enough to pluck one from the bag before dropping the rest inside. She takes a crisp bite as she turns back toward Ronnie, falling into the familiar rhythm of helping around the house.
The two of them settle easily into their evening routine. Seven helps Ronnie tend the garden out back before joining her in the kitchen to make dinner, and whenever the weather is nice enough, they carry their plates out to the front porch, where they eat together while watching birds drift through the yard beneath the fading colors of the sunset. Seven scoops a spoonful of peas into her mouth while Ronnie fills two glasses with ice water, setting the pitcher down between them.
“Can I show you something?” Seven asks.
Ronnie pauses for only a moment; she knows that question. Whenever Seven asks to show her something, it always has to do with her abilities. Without a trace of hesitation, Ronnie nods.
Seven straightens slightly, her eyes drifting to the glass of water in front of her as she slowly lifts a hand, her fingers outstretched in concentration. The surface of the water ripples at first before beginning to swirl, the motion growing steadier until the entire column of water rises from the glass. Suspended in midair, it twists and whirls gently above the rim, the ice cubes spinning within it as a thin trickle of blood slips from Seven’s nostril.
She holds it there for another moment before lowering her hand. The water descends just as smoothly as it rose, settling neatly back into the glass with barely a splash, the only sound being the soft clink of the ice cubes against the sides.
Ronnie watches with quiet awe, her lips parting slightly as she takes in the effortless display. After a moment, she reaches across the table and gently brushes the trickle of blood from beneath Seven’s nose with the pad of her thumb. Seven doesn’t pull back; instead, a faint smile forms at the corners of her mouth as she lets Ronnie wipe it away.
“Well, ain’t that somethin’.” Ronnie leans back in her chair, letting out a soft chuckle as she shakes her head in amazement. Seven smiles a little more, fully wiping her nose on her sleeve.
“You’re getting stronger every day, Sevvy. Just don’t push yourself too hard, alright?” Ronnie says gently. Her weathered hand reaches across the table to give Seven’s fingers a steadying squeeze, her thumb absentmindedly brushing over the braided leather bracelet concealing the tattoo beneath it. “You got all the time in the world to learn.”
Seven meets the woman’s hazel eyes, noticing the kind warmth in them — the kind of soft, unwavering affection she’s never known. It makes her chest ache. Guilt follows close behind, because Ronnie never had to take her in. She never had to hide her, protect her, or risk everything for a frightened girl who appeared out of the woods one afternoon. Before she can overthink it, Seven rises from her chair, steps around the small table, and bends down to wrap her arms tightly around the older woman.
Ronnie lets out a soft huff of surprise, but only for a moment. Her arms come up instinctively, wrapping around Seven with a gentle, reassuring firmness as though she’d been waiting for the girl to seek comfort on her own.
She doesn’t ask what prompted it, and she doesn’t need to. Instead, she presses a tender kiss to the crown of Seven’s head and lets one hand drift slowly over her back.
“Listen here, darlin’. Ain’t nobody got the right to tell you what you are or ain’t. You hear me?” she murmurs. “You’re more than they ever made you believe.”
Seven draws in a shaky breath at Ronnie’s words, her eyes drifting shut as she remains wrapped in the older woman’s embrace. Ronnie only holds her a little tighter, gently rubbing slow, comforting circles into her back as she hums under her breath.
“Sh…” she coos softly. “You’re alright.”
Neither of them moves for several long minutes, content to sit together in the quiet. Eventually, Seven is the first to ease back, and Ronnie lets her, though she keeps hold of the girl’s hands, cradling them in her own.
Seven sniffs faintly, her gaze dropping to where their hands rest together before lifting to meet Ronnie’s.
“Thank you,” she whispers, her voice thick with emotion. Ronnie gives her hands a gentle squeeze, the corners of her hazel eyes crinkling as she grins.
“Ain’t nothin’ to thank me for, darlin’. Just tellin’ the truth.” Her thumb continues to stroke slow, consoling circles across the back of Seven’s hand, as though trying to press a lifetime of comfort into a girl who had gone far too long without it.
June 27th, 1985
The silence of the house is what wakes Seven.
When she notices the glowing red numbers on the alarm clock reading 9:48 a.m., she slowly sits up and rubs the sleep from one eye. A flicker of confusion crosses her face. Ronnie usually wakes her in time for breakfast, and by now the house is almost always filled with the familiar aroma of something cooking.
Today, there’s nothing. Had Ronnie gone to run errands without telling her?
Pushing the comforter aside, Seven swings her legs over the edge of the bed and quietly crosses the room. She eases open her bedroom door before making her way down the hall toward the kitchen and living room, her eyes immediately sweeping over the dining table, countertops, and even the refrigerator, searching for the handwritten note Ronnie sometimes leaves behind so she won’t have to wake her.
There isn’t one. Seven’s lips twist with growing confusion as she turns back down the hallway. She stops outside Ronnie’s bedroom, gives the door a soft knock, and slowly pushes it open.
“Ronnie, are you—” Seven’s voice dies in her throat as she steps into the room, her gaze falling to the bed. Her hand instantly touches the leather around her wrist.
Ronnie lies beneath the quilted blanket with her hands folded peacefully over her stomach, her chest perfectly still. Silver strands of hair rest across the pillow, framing her face with an unnatural stillness while the morning sunlight pours through the window, bathing her peaceful expression in a soft golden glow.
The sight steals the air from Seven’s lungs. She tries to breathe, but her chest refuses to cooperate. Stumbling toward the bed, she reaches out with trembling fingers until they finally rest against Ronnie’s hand.
Seven stares down at her as tears begin blurring her vision, spilling silently down her cheeks without a sound. Her chin quivers as she swallows hard, slowly pulling her hand back until her fingers curl into a tight fist. She stands there for another moment.
Then Ronnie’s words drift through her mind. If there’s ever an emergency… one you can’t fix… you call the police.
Almost without thinking, Seven turns and walks quickly down the hall to the kitchen. She reaches for the landline hanging beside the back door and dials 911, her fingers trembling so badly she nearly presses the wrong numbers.
“911, what is your emergency?”
Seven opens her mouth, forcing herself to speak through the knot tightening in her throat. “I need an ambulance… there is a woman who has passed away.” Her voice breaks on the last few words.
“What is the address of your emergency, sweetie?”
Closing her eyes, Seven quietly recites the address Ronnie had made her memorize years ago. The operator assures her that help is already on the way before gently asking for her name.
Seven freezes. She stares at the wall in front of her, unable to answer. After a long moment, she slowly hangs up the phone. The silence inside the house feels unbearable.
Still reeling from the shock, she makes her way back to her room and begins throwing clothes into an old duffel bag, hardly paying attention to what she’s packing. Her thoughts race faster than she can keep up with them. She knows the police will have questions. An ambulance will become more police, then strangers, which leads to attention.
She can’t be here when they arrive.
With the bag slung over her shoulder, Seven walks toward the back door, stopping only when her hand settles on the doorknob. She looks back one last time, as every part of her wants to run back down the hall, climb into Ronnie’s bed, and tell her goodbye the way she should have. Instead, all she can do is stand there with a sick, aching feeling spreading through her stomach, knowing she’s about to leave the only person who had ever made her feel safe.
The thought breaks something inside her. A tear slips down her cheek as she wordlessly opens the back door and steps outside. By the time the door closes behind her, Seven is already disappearing into the woods.
After all these years, she’s right back where she started.
SUMMARY: A customer flirts with Eddie at work right in front of his girlfriend.
TAGS: Established relationship, fluff, jealousy but make it healthy, Eddie being a green flag, Ray being Ray (he means well), soft Eddie, mechanic!Eddie, buff!bearded!Eddie, modern Hawkins AU, Eddie is in his early 30s.
Fem!Reader is in her late 20s, though unnamed/undescribed. <3
Check out my masterlist for other works for this AU! ♥︎
Word Count: 2.2K
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
The late afternoon sun spilled gold through the open garage bays of Hawkins Auto, catching on floating dust and the chrome of lifted hoods while Black Sabbath crackled low through the shop speakers. Eddie’s girlfriend sat sideways on an old stool beside the front counter, one foot hooked around the ring as she scrolled absently on her phone, exhaustion settling heavy behind her eyes after spending nearly the entire day stuck there waiting on the part Eddie swore would’ve come in hours ago. Somewhere deeper in the garage behind her, an impact wrench whined loudly before cutting off, followed by Ray’s laughter and Eddie’s familiar voice answering back over the noise.
One of the perks of dating a mechanic — an exceptionally good one at that — was the lack of car troubles. The second something felt off with her car, Eddie knew about it. She had been out running errands when her brakes started feeling funny beneath her foot, enough to make her call him immediately.
‘Oh shit, yeah, bring it in, baby,’ he said over the car’s speaker when she called him.
So she did. She drove straight to Hawkins Auto and pulled around the side of the shop, where Eddie came out to take a look at it. After diagnosing the issue, he ordered the right part, completely unaware it would end up taking far longer than expected to show up.
A slow yawn slipped from her as Ray walked into the front office, a soda can clutched in his grease-stained hand, drawing her attention upward just as Eddie stepped in behind him.
“How much longer?” she asked tiredly, her voice low as she squinted at him through a mix of exhaustion and annoyance.
He offered her an apologetic grin as he wiped his hands on a shop rag, tossing it aside before leaning against the counter beside her stool.
“Tomorrow,” he replied, a slight hesitation in his voice. “Supplier fucked up the delivery window. Should’ve been here by four.”
She shut her eyes briefly, an exasperated huff of laughter leaving her through her nose. Eddie reached out, his fingers curling gently around the nape of her neck as he massaged lightly, shooting her a guilty look.
“I know, I know. But it’ll be done tomorrow, I promise,” he said softly.
“It’s okay, I know it isn’t your fault,” she murmured, finally looking up at him, her irritation softening as she leaned instinctively into the warmth of his hand against her neck. Eddie leaned down, pressing a quick kiss to her lips before pulling back.
“I’m just waiting on one more customer to pick up their car, then we’ll be out,” he told her, giving the back of her neck a brief squeeze before letting go and making his way over to the front desk computer. She nodded, unlocking her phone and returning to her scrolling as he worked.
The storefront door jingled as it opened, and a young woman stepped inside, dressed casually with sunglasses resting on top of her head, drawing Eddie’s attention almost immediately as he greeted her out of habit. His customer was pretty — undeniably so — but Eddie didn’t seem to notice, too focused on pulling up her invoice as he rested a hip against the counter.
“Alright, Ms. Browning, your alternator’s all set,” he said, tapping a few keys on the keyboard. The woman pulled her card from her bag once Eddie gave her the total, swiping it through the reader before slipping it back inside.
“You know,” she started sweetly as she tilted her head slightly to catch his attention, “I was thinking maybe you could give me your number? Just in case something else goes wrong with my car.”
She leaned forward as she spoke, her fingertips brushing against his wrist, the touch just a little too deliberate to be accidental. Eddie, however, barely reacted beyond smoothly shifting his arm away to reach for her keys. He chuckled softly — not cold, but entirely professional.
From her stool off to the side, Eddie’s girlfriend quietly lowered her phone, resting her chin against her palm as she observed the interaction in silence.
“Sorry, company policy,” he lied easily, dangling her keys between them. “But Ray’s great with follow-ups.”
The woman smiled, fingers lingering against Eddie’s hand as she took the keys from him. “Company policy, huh?” she asked, voice lilting with playful disbelief. “That’s a shame.”
Across the office, Ray glanced over from the filing cabinet as the woman continued flirting with Eddie, an amused smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. A second later, his eyes slid toward Eddie’s girlfriend, brows raised with a look that practically screamed, You hearing this right now?
She met his look with a knowing one of her own before straightening slightly in her stool, folding her arms across her chest as her attention fixed shamelessly on the woman at the counter — entirely unaware Eddie had already noticed she’d stopped pretending to scroll on her phone minutes ago.
The woman leaned further over the counter, fingers tapping lightly against the laminate as she laughed at nothing in particular.
“Come on,” she pressed lightly. “Just between us? I promise I won’t tell your boss.” Her finger brushed his knuckles again, lingering a second too long.
Eddie’s mouth twitched faintly at the corner, something between amusement and disbelief, as he smoothly pulled his hand away under the excuse of scratching at his beard.
“I am the boss,” he corrected casually before jerking his chin toward his right. “And I’m taken.”
The woman didn’t even bother glancing in her direction. “But–”
“Have a good night, Ms. Browning,” Eddie cut in smoothly, the curt nod he gave her making it clear the conversation was over. She gave a small nod in return, noticeably more subdued now, before quietly turning and heading back out the door.
Eddie’s gaze lingered on the closing glass door for a second before shifting back toward his girlfriend, who was still sitting on the stool beside the counter with her arms folded and one eyebrow raised pointedly at him. Before either of them could say a word, Ray suddenly barked out a loud laugh from across the office as he shoved the filing cabinet drawer shut and walked over.
“Oh shit,” he said, bracing a hand against the counter as he grinned between the two of them. “That was intense. But not the first time, right boss?”
Eddie stared at him blankly for a beat, his expression going still in a way that very clearly read, Why the fuck would you say that?
That alone made his girlfriend’s eyebrows lift even higher.
Eddie immediately reached over and patted Ray’s shoulder hard enough to make him stumble back half a step.
“Lock up. We’re heading out,” he said flatly. The sudden firmness in his voice sounded almost parental, like Ray had just embarrassed him in front of company and was absolutely getting bitched at later for it.
She hopped down from the stool without a word, sliding her phone into her pocket before gathering the bags from the errands she’d never gotten to finish after her car started acting up earlier. Behind her, Ray threw his hands up at Eddie in immediate defense, genuine confusion written all over his face now that she was walking away in silence.
“What?” he whispered harshly.
Eddie only rubbed a hand over his beard in tired exasperation before shooting him one more stern look, grabbing his keys off the counter and heading after her.
“Bye!” Ray called after them.
She only lifted a hand in a small wave as Eddie caught up beside her, reaching an arm around her while holding the door open for her at the same time. Then she walked out of the shop a little quicker than normal, heading straight for Eddie’s big black truck parked outside.
The sun had dipped lower now, casting long shadows across the asphalt while the cool evening air clung to their skin. Eddie followed closely behind her and silently reached the passenger door first, pulling it open for her and stepping aside as she climbed in without hesitation, though her arms remained stubbornly folded at her chest the second she sat down.
He shut the door gently behind her before rounding the hood, his boots scuffing against the gravel as he climbed into the driver’s seat and started the engine. The radio kicked on low — something old and bluesy Eddie would normally hum along to — but he didn’t touch the dial this time. Instead, he just turned the wheel sharply, pulling them out of the lot without a word.
She exhaled slowly through her nose, turning her head to watch the shop disappear behind them through the passenger window. Neither of them spoke for a solid minute.
Eddie’s fingers drummed absently against the steering wheel before he finally glanced over at her. “You good?”
She didn’t look at him. “Uh huh.”
Eddie glanced over at her from the driver’s seat, the corner of his mouth twitching slightly as he took in the stubborn look on her face. Reaching across the console, he let his hand settle against her knee, his thumb brushing back and forth slowly.
“Baby,” he started, his voice low and patient, “you know I wasn’t—”
“I know,” she said a little too quickly, the sharpness in her tone slipping out before she could soften it. Letting out a quiet sigh, she shook her head and looked out the windshield for a second before continuing. “I’m not annoyed with you, I just… girls like that are annoying.”
Her expression twisted with lingering disbelief as she glanced back at him.
“Like, you literally told her you were taken and she still kept going,” she muttered, shaking her head again. “The audacity is actually insane.”
Eddie chuckled low in his chest, giving her knee a gentle squeeze before his hand slid down to lace his fingers through hers. He brought their joined hands up to his mouth, pressing a lingering kiss against her knuckles — a quiet, affectionate attempt to reel her back down before she worked herself up any further.
“And this has happened more than once?” she asked suddenly, whipping her head toward him. The irritation in her voice was obvious, but the look she gave him carried an almost comical level of personal offense, dramatic enough that Eddie had to physically fight the urge to laugh, knowing it would only irritate her more.
“Mm… probably like once a week,” Eddie admitted with a shrug that was just cocky enough to make her expression immediately shift from irritation to pure indignation. She scoffed loudly, yanking her hand away from him, only for Eddie to laugh under his breath and catch it again before she could fully pull away.
“Hey, c’mon,” he said, still amused as he laced their fingers back together. “You know I shut that shit down every time. Like clockwork.”
She didn’t pull away from him again, but she still refused to look at him, keeping her gaze fixed ahead as Eddie pulled into the driveway.
The truck went quiet once he shut it off, yet Eddie still didn’t let go of her hand. He sighed through his nose, leaning his head back against the seat as he studied her profile for a moment before squeezing her hand gently. “Look at me.”
After a moment, she slowly turned her head, her eyes meeting his. Eddie’s thumb brushed gently across her knuckles as he held her gaze, the teasing smile from earlier softening into something quieter and more sincere.
“Not a single one of ’em holds a candle to you,” he said genuinely. “Not even close.”
Her expression softened visibly at that. It wasn’t that she doubted Eddie for even a second — she knew he’d never entertain another woman beyond basic professionalism, no matter how hard they flirted with him. The situation itself just annoyed her. Something about watching women continue pushing after being told he was taken irritated her down to her core.
Still, she knew that part wasn’t on Eddie. And judging by the way he was looking at her right now, completely focused on her and her alone, it never would be.
“You're my girl,” he murmured, leaning in slowly, his breath warm against her lips before pressing the softest kiss to them. Then another, and another — each one featherlight, lingering just long enough to coax a reluctant smile from her before pulling back slightly, his own lips twitching at the corners when she finally huffed a small laugh. "That better?"
“Mm,” she hummed thoughtfully. “Maybe one more.”
Eddie grinned before leaning in again, this time catching her bottom lip between his teeth in a playful bite that melted into something deeper, his free hand sliding up to cradle the side of her face as the kiss turned languid and warm. The tension in her shoulders eased beneath his touch, her fingers curling tighter around his as she hummed contentedly against his mouth.
It was her who pulled away first, though she barely moved back at all, their faces still close when she looked at him. “Better.”
Eddie hummed softly in approval, his thumb tracing idle patterns against her jaw.
I’ve spent the last several months creating my own Stranger Things OC named Seven — or Sev, as her friends call her. She’s another Hawkins Lab test subject (007) who escaped before the massacre, meaning Eleven never knew she existed until years later.
In my version of the story, she becomes involved with Steve, Robin, and Dustin during Season 3 and remains with the group throughout seasons 4 and 5 (though I’ve yet to write for season 5, lol).
I’ve written a lot of scenes for her over the past few months — friendships, sister moments with Eleven, Upside Down stuff, Vecna moments, Eddie moments (she eventually ends up with him), and everything in between.
She means a lot to me because she’s more than just an OC.
She’s made up of different parts of myself and parts of who I aspire to be. Over time, she’s become one of my favorite things I’ve ever created.
I’ve mostly kept her story to myself and a couple friends, but lately I’ve been considering sharing some of the scenes and blurbs I’ve written for her.
If that’s something anyone would be interested in reading, let me know. 💜
SUMMARY: Eddie’s girlfriend attends her friend’s wedding, and naturally, she brings Eddie as her date. During the wedding, his girlfriend sees an old boyfriend, and catches up with him. Eddie notices and, even though he knows he has nothing to worry about, he is not having it.
TAGS: Smut! (18+), Jealous Eddie, slightly possessive Eddie, established relationship, buff!bearded!Eddie, modern Hawkins AU, fluff, reader has a past, public teasing, Eddie is in his early 30s, they bang in the bathroom lmao.
Fem!Reader is in her late 20s, though unnamed/undescribed. <3
Check out my masterlist for other works for this AU! ♥︎
Word Count: 4.5K
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
The reception hall glowed warmly beneath dozens of hanging lights, their golden reflections catching against wine glasses, polished silverware, and the scattered candles decorating each table.
Somewhere across the room, music and laughter blended together from the crowded dance floor while guests lingered over half-finished drinks and slices of wedding cake.
Eddie’s girlfriend had been invited to one of her close friend’s weddings in Indianapolis, and when the invitation included a plus one, asking Eddie had been an easy decision. It also gave her the perfect excuse to pick out his outfit for the occasion herself, knowing full well that no matter what she chose, he was going to look ridiculously attractive in it.
Seated beside his girlfriend at one of the round tables near the edge of the room, Eddie looked entirely out of place, yet extremely delicious at the same time. His black button-down was rolled to his forearms, exposing the tattoos winding beneath the fabric, while the top few buttons sat undone just enough to reveal the chain at his neck and the faint dusting of chest hair beneath. His hair was slightly messy in a way that somehow only made him look better, dark curls falling around his face as though he’d already run his hands through them a dozen times throughout the night. His beard was neatly trimmed, several silver rings glinting beneath the reception lights whenever he lifted his drink, and every time she caught a hint of his cologne, it was distracting enough to make her lose her train of thought.
One arm rested lazily across the back of her chair, his attention drifting between the dance floor and the story she was currently telling him, a small smile lingering at the corner of his mouth as he listened. He leaned in slightly when she paused, his fingers slipping into the hair at the nape of her neck as his thumb brushed slow, absent circles against her skin.
“I’m gonna run to the bathroom real quick,” he said, his voice raised just enough to carry over the music and conversation filling the reception hall. His eyes flicked over her face briefly before he tilted his head. “You gonna be alright while I’m gone?”
She laughed softly, unable to help herself.
“Yes, baby,” she assured him with an affectionate smile, reaching up to gently pat his chest. “I’ll be fine.”
He grinned, slow and easy, before leaning in to press a quick kiss to her forehead, lingering for just a second longer than necessary as though he couldn’t quite help himself.
“Alright,” he said, straightening from his chair and dragging a hand briefly through his beard. A moment later, he disappeared into the crowd, his broad frame weaving easily between tables and guests until she eventually lost sight of him. Bringing her glass to her lips, she frowned when she realized it was empty.
“Boo,” she muttered to herself. With a small sigh, she stood from her chair and made her way toward the venue’s bar, weaving through clusters of guests while pulling out her phone. Despite the pleasant buzz of alcohol lingering in her system, she managed to text Eddie one-handed without issue, letting him know she’d gone to the bar and to meet her there when he was done.
She set her empty glass on the bar and ordered another drink, something light and fruity enough that it barely tasted like alcohol. While she waited, she leaned forward onto her elbows, absently scrolling through her phone. A sudden squeeze to her shoulders made her jump.
“Jesus fuck, you scared me,” she laughed, instantly turning around and pulling Dana into a hug. Beaming back, Dana wrapped her arms around her in return.
“I know, I know. I’ve been trying to make the rounds and talk to everybody, but Zach has been up my ass all night like we don’t have the rest of our lives together.”
She snorted, pulling back from the hug. Before she could respond, Dana’s eyes suddenly widened. “Oh my God, I completely forgot to tell you something.”
Immediately suspicious, she raised an eyebrow.
“Guess who I saw here,” Dana said. “Apparently Zach invited him.”
“Who?”
“Ryan.”
Her eyes widened in return. Before moving to Hawkins and meeting Eddie, she had dated Ryan back in high school — tall, skinny, black hair. They’d stayed together for about a year after graduation before eventually ending things on mutual terms, however he had been one of her more serious boyfriends before Eddie. Her face instantly scrunched. “Oh God.”
“I know,” Dana said dramatically. “The second I saw him, I said the same thing to Zach.”
That earned a laugh.
“But anyway,” Dana continued, her gaze drifting across the room before landing back on her with a grin, “I also saw the absolute piece of candy you brought with you.”
Dana raised her eyebrows before wiggling fingers with hers. “I just know that man treats you right.”
A giggle escaped her before she could stop it. “Oh, he does.”
Dana cackled and squeezed her hand one last time.
“You better invite me to that wedding whenever it happens,” she said, pointing at her playfully. “I fully intend on being there.”
Laughing, she promised she’d keep that in mind.
“Good,” Dana replied with a satisfied nod before leaning in to kiss her cheeks. She took a step backward, already looking toward another cluster of guests across the room. “I should probably get back to making my rounds before Zach decides he misses me.”
With one final wave, Dana disappeared back into the crowd of guests.
Still smiling to herself, she turned back toward the bar and reached for the freshly made drink waiting for her. As her fingers curled around the glass, movement in her peripheral vision caught her attention. Her eyes lifted instinctively, and she found herself looking directly at Ryan, who had quietly walked over and taken a spot beside her at the bar.
His face was thinner now, his dark hair cut much shorter than she remembered, and the lanky frame he’d had in high school had filled out over the years. Time had softened some of his sharper features while adding others, faint lines appearing at the corners of his eyes when he smiled. For a second, she was struck by how familiar and unfamiliar he looked all at once.
“Hey, stranger,” he said, giving her a small smile. His voice hadn’t changed much. “Long time.”
She nodded slightly, offering him a polite one in return that came across a little more reserved than warm.
“Yup,” she replied, popping the ‘p’ as she lifted her drink toward her lips.
It wasn’t that they had ended on bad terms. Quite the opposite, actually. Their breakup had been mutual, and by the time it happened, they’d both known it was the right decision. Even so, standing at a wedding making small talk with an ex-boyfriend wasn’t exactly how she’d planned on spending her evening. There was nothing necessarily wrong with Ryan being there, but she couldn’t deny that the situation felt a little awkward, and she found herself wishing she could fast-forward through it entirely.
“You look good,” he said after a moment, the compliment delivered with an easy sincerity that caught her slightly off guard. There wasn’t anything flirtatious behind it. No lingering looks, no awkward undertones. It felt more like an observation than anything else, the kind of thing someone says when they’re genuinely happy to see another person doing well.
His gaze briefly flicked over her before returning to his own drink. “How’ve you been?”
She swallowed her sip before lowering the glass. “Great,” she answered honestly. “What about you?”
His fingers tapped lightly against his whiskey glass as he glanced out toward the dance floor, watching a few guests drift past before his attention settled back on her.
“Same old, mostly,” he said. “I moved back to Indy last year. Been teaching guitar lessons at a music shop downtown.”
She nodded politely, genuinely glad to hear he seemed to be doing well. As he took another sip of his drink, his gaze shifted past her for a moment, lingering somewhere in the crowd.
“I saw you came with somebody,” he said casually. “He looks a little intimidating.”
That earned a laugh from her. Honestly, she could see why someone who didn’t know Eddie might think that. Between the muscles, the beard, and the permanent resting expression that made him look like he was seconds away from starting a fight, he definitely gave off that impression.
“No,” she said with an amused shake of her head. “He’s a sweetheart.”
As the words left her mouth, her eyes instinctively drifted across the reception hall — they immediately found Eddie.
He stood near the edge of the dance floor, one shoulder leaned casually against a nearby pillar. Even from across the reception hall, she could tell he had been watching her for at least a few moments already.
His arms were folded loosely across his chest, rings catching the warm glow of the overhead lights whenever his fingers shifted against his bicep. There was nothing outwardly hostile about his expression, but there was a clear curiosity there, his head tilted slightly as he watched the interaction unfold from a distance. The moment their eyes met, he held her gaze. A second later, one of his eyebrows lifted in a silent question, and despite herself, she felt warmth creep into her cheeks.
Oblivious to the fact that Eddie had been watching the entire exchange from across the room, Ryan let out a small chuckle before lifting his whiskey glass again.
“I’ll have to take your word for it,” he said with a shrug.
As the conversation continued, movement across the reception hall caught her attention once more. Eddie had pushed himself away from the pillar and was making his way through the crowd toward them. There was nothing rushed about his pace. Still, she knew him well enough to recognize the quiet determination behind it.
Guests drifted between them as he walked, forcing him to weave around tables and clusters of people, yet his attention remained fixed in her direction the entire time. His hands hung loosely at his sides, fingers flexing every now and then as he approached, making absolutely no attempt to disguise where he was headed.
The flutter in her chest only worsened when Eddie finally stepped up beside her.
“There he is,” she said, unable to stop the redness flooding her face as she glanced away from him and back toward Ryan. “Ryan, this is Eddie, my boyfriend.”
She gestured between them. “Eddie, this is Ryan. We knew each other back in high school.”
“Nice to meet you,” Ryan said with an easy smile, extending his hand. Eddie took it without hesitation.
“Eddie Munson,” he replied, his voice carrying that familiar roughness that always seemed to linger beneath the surface. The handshake was firm, his grip lingering for only a moment before he let go. When he stepped back, one arm settled naturally around her waist.
“How do you know the bride and groom?” Eddie asked, though the look in his eyes suggested he was already well aware of exactly who Ryan was.
“Zach and I went to college together,” Ryan answered, taking another sip of his whiskey. His posture remained relaxed, his tone laid back, though she didn’t miss the brief glance he cast toward Eddie’s arm where it rested around her waist. Eddie’s hand shifted slightly against her side.
“How nice,” he replied, his thumb moving in slow, absent circles against her hip. His voice sounded light enough, conversational even, but there was a familiar glint in his eye she recognized almost instantly.
“So you two go way back?” He asked, glancing between the two of them. The question made her turn her head toward him, her eyes narrowed slightly.
Most people would’ve missed it completely — Ryan probably would too — but she knew Eddie far too well. Beneath the natural smile and casual tone was the version of him that occasionally surfaced whenever he got a little too amused with himself. The same man who was endlessly kind and loyal also had the ability to become an absolute menace when the mood struck him.
Judging by the look on his face, that mood had definitely struck him.
“Yeah, we dated in high school.” The admission left Ryan’s mouth easily, carrying none of the significance it might have years ago. Still, she felt Eddie’s reaction. His hand paused briefly against her waist before resuming its slow movement, and when she glanced up at him, she caught the slight shift in his expression as he looked between her and Ryan.
“Did you now?” Eddie’s eyebrows raised, his tone remaining frustratingly pleasant. “Well, that’s a fun little detail.”
She closed her eyes for half a second — there he was.
“So fun,” she interjected before either of them could continue down that road. Turning back toward Ryan, she offered him a polite smile and a quick nod. “It was nice seeing you again.”
Then she placed her free hand against Eddie’s chest and looked up at him pointedly. “Let’s go back to the table, yeah?”
His grin widened at her attempt to steer him away from the conversation, and although he allowed her to guide him without any real resistance, she could tell he was enjoying this far more than he should have been.
“What?” he asked, sounding entirely too innocent for someone who knew exactly what he was doing. “We just got here.” Leaning down slightly, he lowered his voice so only she could hear him.
“I thought we were having a nice little chat with Ryan-from-high-school.” His thumb continued brushing absent patterns against her side, and she could practically feel how amused he was with himself. “Shouldn’t I get to know the guy who came before me?”
She knew he was joking. There wasn’t any real hostility behind it, but there was just enough truth mixed into the teasing to make her want to disappear into the floor. If anything, the alcohol had made him a little more fearless, a little more likely to say whatever popped into his head without filtering it first.
Normally, she would’ve laughed. But something about hearing him make a joke out of it while standing there in the middle of the reception hall unexpectedly got under her skin. The entire situation was awkward enough already without him turning it into a bit.
“Okay, don’t be a dick,” she snapped before she could stop herself, the words coming out sharper than she’d intended.
The moment the words left her mouth, the amusement disappeared from Eddie’s face. Not completely, but enough.
She caught the shift in him, the way his expression faltered for a fraction of a second as though the comment had genuinely caught him off guard. Before he had a chance to respond, however, she was already turning back toward Ryan.
“Sorry, again,” she said quickly before excusing herself.
Without waiting for either man to say much else, she picked up her drink and started back toward their table, moving through the crowd of wedding guests. She could hear Eddie following behind her a few seconds later, but she didn’t slow down, her cheeks still warm as she replayed the exchange in her head.
By the time he reached their table, she was already seated, placing her glass on the table in front of her. Eddie slid into the chair beside her without saying anything right away. The usual confidence he’d carried at the bar had noticeably faded, replaced by something far more cautious as he settled into his seat.
For a few moments, he simply watched her. The slight furrow between her brows, the way she wouldn’t quite look at him, the lingering tension in her shoulders. Finally, he leaned a little closer.
“Hey,” he said quietly, nudging her knee beneath the table with his own. When she glanced over, his expression had softened considerably. “I was joking.”
There wasn’t a trace of teasing left in his voice now. “Didn’t mean to piss you off.”
“It’s okay,” she assured him quickly, but Eddie shook his head.
Before she could protest, he reached down and hooked a hand around the seat of her chair, dragging it closer to his in one smooth motion. The legs scraped softly against the floor as the gap between them disappeared. “No,” he said gently. “It’s not.”
Turning toward her, he leaned in until she could feel the warmth of his breath against her ear. “I’m sorry,” he murmured. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”
She turned her head toward him then, her eyes meeting his. The look he gave her made something soften in her chest despite herself. Him and those stupid big brown eyes — he knew exactly what he was doing when he looked at her like that. Without breaking eye contact, Eddie dipped his head and pressed a soft kiss against her bare shoulder.
“It’s okay, baby,” she assured him again, reaching up to brush her fingers lightly through the hair near his temple.
And she meant it. The more she sat with it, the more she realized it really wasn’t that big of a deal. Eddie had gotten a little cocky, she’d gotten a little irritated, and now they were already making up five minutes later. Besides, it was admittedly difficult to stay annoyed when he was looking at her like that.
“I just hope you know I don’t spend time thinking about any ‘guy before you,’” she said, deliberately quoting his earlier words. His eyebrows lifted slightly.
“Honestly,” she continued, shaking her head, “it’s like you forget how obsessed I am with you.” Her gaze flicked meaningfully over him, from the rolled sleeves to the open collar of his shirt. “Be serious.”
The reaction was immediate. The playful edge he’d been carrying since the bar seemed to falter as he looked at her, and despite herself, she felt a small sense of satisfaction. For all of Eddie’s confidence and occasional cockiness, she had always possessed the ability to completely derail it whenever she wanted to. A few words, a certain look, and suddenly all of that bravado disappeared, his attention narrowing entirely onto her.
Eddie blinked at her, visibly caught off guard by the comment. For a moment, he just stared.
Then he straightened slightly and dragged a hand through his beard, his gaze dropping away from hers as he released a slow breath through his nose. The sight alone nearly made her smile.
As the silence settled between them, the music throughout the reception hall changed. The upbeat song playing over the speakers faded out, replaced by something slower, bluesier. The low guitar immediately caught Eddie’s attention, and she watched the shift happen in real time as his gaze drifted toward the dance floor.
Without saying anything, he pushed himself out of his chair. When she looked up at him, he was already standing beside her with one hand extended.
Her eyes dropped for a moment to his hand before lifting back to his face. The warm lighting overhead seemed unfairly flattering, catching against the dark curls falling around his face, the silver rings on his fingers, and the open collar of the shirt she’d picked out for him. The sight of him standing there, broad shoulders relaxed, chest rising and falling steadily as he looked down at her, made it difficult to remember why she’d been annoyed in the first place.
“C’mon, angel,” he murmured, his voice low and warm enough to send a shiver down her spine. He gave his hand a small encouraging wiggle. “Dance with me.”
She paused for a moment, running her tongue slowly over her teeth as she looked up at him. Then she slipped her hand into his, and the second she did, Eddie’s fingers closed around hers securely, his thumb brushing against her skin. Something about the simple gesture felt oddly intimate after everything that had happened over the last few minutes.
Without letting go, he guided her toward the dance floor, weaving them through clusters of guests and around occupied tables. The music grew louder the closer they got, the slow bluesy melody settling comfortably around them as other couples swayed beneath the hanging lights. Rather than moving toward the crowded center, Eddie led her off to the side where there was a little more room.
Only once they stopped did he finally turn toward her. Their joined hands remained between them for all of two seconds before he used them to gently pull her closer, closing the distance until barely any space remained. His eyes settled on hers, holding her gaze with an intensity that made her stomach flutter, his attention completely fixed on her. Her arms lifted to loosely wrap around his neck while Eddie rested his hands on her sides.
The warmth of his palms seeped through the thin fabric of her dress as one of his hands drifted to the small of her back, drawing her a little closer. Without breaking eye contact, he leaned in until his forehead rested against hers, his breath brushing softly across her lips.
“You really are obsessed with me, huh?” he teased.
Her eyes rolled playfully. “Duh.”
A low chuckle rumbled from his chest. His hand slipped lower in one smooth motion, fingers curling over the curve of her ass as he pressed her firmly against him. Burying his face against her neck, he nuzzled into her skin, the scrape of his beard making her laugh softly. “Good.”
“Good?” She snorted. His other hand joined the first, squeezing firmly enough to make her jump slightly. The reaction made him smirk.
Lifting his head from her neck, he looked down at her, eyes warm with amusement as he kept her tucked against him. She studied him for a moment before reaching up to give his beard a gentle tug.
“You know,” she said casually, as though she were commenting on the weather, “if you wanted to drag me into that bathroom right now, I probably wouldn’t stop you.”
His eyes darkened at once, his eyes shifting briefly toward the hallway leading to the bathrooms before returning to hers.
“Sure about that?” he asked, one eyebrow lifting. “Because I’m not gonna be gentle with you if you get me in there.”
“I think I know exactly what I’m getting myself into,” she replied surely, smoothing the fabric of his shirt over his chest.
Without hesitation, Eddie caught her wrist and guided her toward the hallway, his pace noticeably quicker now as he navigated through the crowd. The music faded behind them with each step until they finally slipped out of the reception hall.
The moment the bathroom door shut behind them, the playful tension that had been building all evening seemed to snap.
Eddie crowded into her space immediately, backing her against the door as he looked down at her. For a second neither of them spoke, and Eddie reached behind her to lock the door without breaking eye contact. They simply stared at each other, breaths uneven, the noise of the wedding reduced to a distant hum beyond the walls.
Then his hands slid to her thighs and he lifted her effortlessly against him, drawing a surprised laugh from her as her arms wrapped around his shoulders.
Only after a moment did he carry her across the small bathroom, setting her onto the edge of the sink. The second he stepped between her knees, his hands moved to the fabric of her dress, shoving it higher along her thighs while she reached for him in return. The second she managed work open the button of his slacks, Eddie took over with a low sound of impatience, shoving them down just enough to release himself.
“Happy now?” she teased breathlessly.
“Not even close.” The answer barely left him before his hands slid beneath the backs of her knees. He adjusted her legs, drawing a surprised laugh from her as he hiked them at his sides. A second later, her back met the mirror, the cool glass a sharp contrast to the heat radiating from him.
“Jesus, Eddie–”
“Thought you said you knew what you were getting into.”
The smugness in his voice lasted all of two seconds before it dissolved into a groan, his forehead briefly dropping against hers. She tangled her fingers into his hair and pulled him down into a kiss, cutting off whatever smart comment he had planned next. He kissed her back, one hand tightening against her leg as the other braced against the counter beside her. He wasted no time setting a relentless pace, his thrusts deep and unforgiving against the bathroom sink.
“I do,” she mumbled against his lips, “and I’m loving it.”
He laughed low in his throat, pressing messy kisses along her jawline.
“You feel so good around me, baby,” he panted. His grip dug into the soft flesh of her thigh as a poorly-restrained moan left her mouth. Every movement sent sparks racing up her spine whenever she tried to pull him closer. Between ragged breaths and muffled moans, she could feel his teeth scraping against her neck, his beard scratching against her as his hips snapped forward again and again.
“You are unbelievable,” she whispered.
“Yeah?” His teeth brushed her skin as he grinned. “You seem pretty into it.”
Reaching up, Eddie grabbed a fistful of her hair, tilting her head back just enough for him to catch her lips again, his kiss messy and desperate as he chased his release with ruthless precision.
“Come.” The word left him in a growl against her lips, and she whimpered in response. When she finally clenched around him with a broken moan, he followed immediately, burying himself deep as he spilled inside her with a shuddering groan.
For several seconds, neither of them moved, their breaths uneven as he held her against the mirror, his forehead resting against hers. Then, slowly, he leaned back enough to meet her eyes, his expression shifting into a familiar smug grin as he brushed his thumb lightly across her lower lip.
“Damn. We should go to weddings more often,” he remarked, looking entirely too pleased with himself. She snorted, and the sound pulled a smile from him. He leaned in to press a kiss to her forehead, stepping back to adjust himself and his slacks before reaching for her hands.
“C’mere.” Carefully helping her down from the sink, Eddie smoothed out the wrinkles in her dress and adjusted the fabric back into place. He gave her a quick once-over before his attention returned to her face, his hands coming to rest lightly on her sides.
“Beautiful as ever,” he murmured, leaning in to press a soft kiss to her lips. She smiled and reached up to smooth a wrinkle from the front of his shirt, her palm brushing briefly across his chest.
SUMMARY: After waking from one of the worst nightmares he’s had in a while, Eddie finally tells his girlfriend the truth about what really happened in Hawkins.
TAGS: Hurt/comfort, trauma, established relationship, buff!bearded!Eddie, modern Hawkins AU. Eddie is late 20s
Fem!Reader is in her mid-20s for this blurb in particular, though unnamed/undescribed. <3
A/N: This takes place earlier in their relationship (before ‘Bringing Him Lunch’). NOT FULLY PROOFREAD srry.
Check out my masterlist for other works for this AU! ♥︎
Word Count: 2.5K
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
The bed shaking slightly was what pulled her from sleep first.
Half-asleep, she thought maybe it was thunder or Eddie getting up for water again, but when she finally blinked her eyes open against the darkness, she immediately realized something was wrong.
Eddie was sitting at the edge of the mattress with both hands gripping the sheets so tightly his knuckles had gone pale. His breathing sounded uneven in the quiet room, shoulders trembling faintly beneath the thin black t-shirt stretched across his back.
Instinctively, she reached out for him, but her hand pulled back almost instantly when she felt Eddie flinch beneath her touch. That was the exact moment her own heart started pounding.
Slowly, she pushed herself upright, her hands pressing into the mattress on either side of her as she stared at his rigid back. She hesitated to turn on the bedside lamp, suddenly afraid the light might startle him even more.
“Eddie?” she called carefully, barely louder than the soft whir of the ceiling fan overhead.
Eddie’s breath hitched when he heard her voice, but he didn’t turn around — just shook his head once, sharply, like he was trying to shake something loose inside his skull. One hand finally let go of the sheets to scrub roughly down his face before curling into a fist at his mouth. His exhale was ragged when it finally came, muffled against his knuckles.
“Sorry,” he muttered, voice thick. “Didn’t mean to wake you.”
Her eyebrows pulled together immediately, his tone sounding so unlike himself that it made something uneasy twist in her chest. Eddie had been vulnerable with her before, but not like this. Never this shaken, and truthfully, she had no idea what the right thing to do was. All she knew was that she wanted to help him without pushing him farther away.
“It’s okay, really,” she whispered softly, her eyes fixed on the uneven rise and fall of his shoulders as he struggled to steady his breathing. He let out a rough, humorless laugh at that, his fist still pressed tightly against his mouth like he was trying to physically hold himself together.
“Not exactly,” he argued quietly. His other hand curled tighter into the sheets beneath him, the fabric twisting under the strain of his grip.
“Nightmares,” he finally managed. “They– fuck… they don’t usually get this bad.”
Shifting to face him more fully, she crossed her legs beneath the blankets and folded her hands in her lap as she resisted the overwhelming urge to pull him into her.
She knew vaguely about the nightmares. Years ago, when they’d first met, Eddie used to brush them off casually as “occasional bad dreams” from when he was younger. Back then, she hadn’t realized they never truly stopped. Now, seeing him like this for the first time made her chest ache. Her lips twisted helplessly before she finally spoke again, voice soft and careful in the dark.
“You can always talk to me, Eddie,” she murmured. “I hope you know that.”
Eddie exhaled shakily through his nose, his shoulders slumping slightly as he finally lowered the fist from his mouth. He turned his head just enough to glance back at her over his shoulder.
As her eyes adjusted further to the darkness, the dull moonlight spilling through the curtains caught more of him — the tension still locked tightly in his jaw beneath the stubble, the faint sheen of sweat near his temple, the unmistakable gloss of tears gathered in his eyes. His fingers flexed repeatedly against his thigh like he was trying to ground himself to something real while his lips parted slightly, visibly debating whether or not to finally unleash every demon that had haunted him for nearly a decade.
They had officially been together for a year and a half now, and even before that, back during their awkward flirting stage when she first met Robin and Steve, she’d sensed there was something deeper tying all of them together, especially Eddie. She could never fully pinpoint what it was exactly, only that it lingered beneath certain conversations, certain looks, certain silences. Still, she never pried.
Whatever had happened before she came into Eddie’s life clearly wasn’t something he spoke about easily, and she never wanted him to feel rushed into opening up before he was ready. From the moment she met him, she understood that trusting people didn’t come naturally to him, and even without fully knowing why, she stayed anyway.
Even before tonight, there had always been parts of Eddie that stayed guarded no matter how close they became. He rarely walked around shirtless, even after he started going to the gym and his body noticeably changed over time. In the beginning of their relationship, he’d kept a tank top on the first few times they slept together too, brushing it off casually whenever she tried to tug it higher.
It wasn’t until weeks later, around the fourth time they’d had sex, that he finally let her fully see him. Large, uneven scar tissue stretched sporadically across his torso, old enough to have faded but still impossible to miss beneath the warm light of his bedroom. Back then, when she’d asked what happened, Eddie only gave her a small shrug and told her it was from a car accident.
The silence stretched long enough that she nearly reached for him again, but before she could, Eddie finally reached over and switched on the small bedside lamp beside him. Warm dim light spilled gently across the room before he finally turned fully toward her. His hands trembled faintly where they hovered over his lap. When he finally spoke, his voice came out low and rough, the kind of tone that immediately told her this wasn’t something he’d ever truly said out loud before.
“I don’t… I don’t know where to start,” he admitted quietly, his fingers twitching like they wanted to curl into fists again. Slowly, carefully, she reached for him once more, her hand gently settling over his. Relief loosened in her chest when he didn’t pull away this time.
“I’ll listen as long as you need me to,” she assured him softly, her voice gentle but firm as her eyes searched his face. Even though he was looking directly at her, it still somehow felt like he wasn’t really seeing her at all. His gaze looked distant, lost somewhere far away despite the overwhelming emotion swimming behind it.
His fingers curled tighter around hers, holding onto her warmth like it was the only thing keeping him grounded in the room. For a long moment, he said nothing at all, only staring somewhere past her shoulder as if he was trying to figure out how to unravel years worth of memories without completely drowning in them. Finally, he swallowed hard.
“Hawkins… it used to be a dark fucking place,” he started, the exhaustion in his voice impossible to miss.
She stayed silent beside him, listening carefully. Unlike him, unlike all the others, she hadn’t grown up here. She hadn’t spent years unknowingly living beneath the shadow of whatever haunted this town long before she ever arrived. To her, Hawkins had always just seemed a little strange in ways she could never fully explain — too many rumors, too many abandoned buildings, too many moments where conversations suddenly stopped the second certain topics came up. The ceiling fan continued spinning softly overhead while Eddie rubbed his thumb slowly against the back of her hand, almost absentmindedly.
“There was something wrong with this place for years,” he told her, lip trembling slightly. “Something underneath it. And somehow… all of us ended up in the middle of it.”
His jaw tightened faintly before he continued. “Steve, Robin, Nancy, Jonathan… the kids.” A weak breath left him through his nose. “Me.”
His gaze dropped briefly toward their joined hands.
“There were these monsters,” he whispered, like even now the word sounded impossible out loud. “Another dimension. Government shit nobody would believe if we tried explaining it.” His fingers flexed faintly around hers again. “People got hurt. People died. And after a while, it just became normal to wake up every day wondering if something terrible was gonna happen again.”
He fell silent for another beat before speaking again, noticeably gentler this time.
“El was part of it too,” he murmured. “But… that’s her story to tell. Not mine.”
She sat quietly through all of it, her full attention fixed on him as he spoke. Confusion and curiosity tangled together in her chest, but neither outweighed the concern she felt watching him struggle through the memories. Even when parts of what he described sounded impossible, she never interrupted him. She simply listened, letting him take his time, processing each careful piece he trusted her enough to finally lay in front of her.
Some parts came easier than others. Steve and Robin. The gates opening through Hawkins. The constant fear. But eventually his voice slowed again, his gaze dropping toward their hands resting together between them.
“There was this girl,” he murmured after a long pause. “Chrissy. Cheerleader from school.” His fingers tightened faintly around hers. “She died in my trailer back in 2015.” His jaw flexed hard at the memory. “And the whole town thought I killed her.”
The second the words left his mouth, she felt tears sting unexpectedly at the backs of her eyes. Her expression scrunched slightly, heart twisting painfully at the thought of him carrying something like that.
“I didn’t even understand what I was seeing,” Eddie breathed shakily. “One second she was standing there talking to me, and then…” He stopped himself to clear his throat. “After that, everybody wanted somebody to blame, and somehow that ended up being me.”
The pain buried beneath his voice made her chest ache.
“I almost died,” he admitted suddenly, the words cracking apart on the way out. “I was attacked and I–” His breathing hitched violently before he could finish.
“Oh, Eddie…” His name left her in a pained breath, her heart aching as she watched what felt like years worth of grief pass through his eyes all at once. She couldn’t even begin to comprehend everything he’d lived through, and strangely, she didn’t question any of it either. Not the monsters, not the other dimension. It was real to him, and that alone was enough. Slowly, she let go of his hand so she could cradle his face between both of hers instead. It was only then that Eddie finally looked directly at her.
And the second he did, tears spilled from his eyes.
He crumpled forward into her lap like a puppet with its strings cut. His forehead pressed into her thighs as his shoulders shook violently with the force of his sobs, uneven breaths spilling hot along her skin while his arms wrapped tightly around her waist. His fingers twisted desperately into the fabric of her shirt as he clung to her, pulling himself impossibly closer while he buried his face deeper into her lap, trying and failing to muffle the raw, broken sounds tearing from his throat.
“Christ, Eddie…” the words left her in a shaky cry as her arms immediately wrapped around him. One hand tangled into his hair while the other held him tightly against her, instinctively pulling him closer. “I am so, so sorry.”
Eddie didn’t reply. He only cried harder, his fingers tightening against her shirt every so often like he was afraid to let go. She shut her eyes briefly as she held him and listened. Everything he’d told her suddenly explained so much. The lingering heaviness she’d always sensed in him and the others. The way certain conversations would abruptly die out. The distant looks. The grief none of them ever fully spoke about aloud.
She’d known from the moment she met Eddie that there were layers to him, pieces of himself he kept buried deep beneath the humor and charm and easy smiles. Now she finally understood why being accepted by Hawkins now meant so much to him — why becoming owner of the mechanic shop, being liked by the town, mattered in a way she never fully grasped before.
The same town that once wanted him dead was finally seeing him for who he really was.
His breathing gradually began to steady beneath her touch as her fingers continued slowly combing through his hair, grounding him back into the present little by little. When he finally lifted his head from her lap, his face was flushed and damp with tears, the soft lamplight catching the exhaustion lingering heavily in his red-rimmed eyes. He studied her cautiously for a long moment, like he was still waiting for disbelief or dismissal to cross her face now that everything was finally out in the open.
But it never came. Instead, she gently wiped the tears from his cheeks with her thumbs before cradling his face again, holding him carefully like she was trying to keep every broken piece of him together at once.
“I believe you,” she whispered firmly, her voice unwavering despite the tears still burning behind her own eyes. “And you don’t have to tell me anything else if you don’t want to.”
One of her hands slowly lowered from his face to find his again, her fingers wrapping tightly around his as she gave it a reassuring squeeze.
Eddie let out an uneven breath at her words, his shoulders slumping slightly like the weight of everything he’d been carrying had finally loosened enough for him to breathe again. His thumb moved hesitantly against her hand before he lifted his free hand to wipe roughly at his damp cheeks.
“I just…” He gulped, blinking down toward their intertwined hands for a moment before continuing. “I didn’t want you thinking I was hiding shit from you.” His voice still sounded thick with emotion, quieter now but no less raw. “You deserved to know.”
A small, faint smile finally pulled at her lips despite the emotion still lingering heavily in her chest.
“I love you,” she mumbled.
Eddie leaned toward her then, gently cradling her face between his hands this time before pressing a soft kiss against her lips. It lingered for a moment, tender and grateful in a way words couldn’t quite capture, the quietest form of thank you. When he finally pulled back, his eyes searched hers with an almost overwhelming amount of appreciation before he spoke again, his voice still rough and hoarse from crying.
“I love you.”
Eddie silently leaned over to switch the bedside lamp off, darkness slowly settling over the room once again. The two of them lay back down together afterward, her curled onto her side while he moved beside her without a word, immediately pressing himself close enough to bury his face against her neck. She held him there, one arm wrapped securely around him as she pressed a gentle kiss against the side of his head, feeling the tension slowly begin to leave his body little by little.
Eventually, with the steady sound of the ceiling fan humming overhead and Eddie finally relaxing against her, she felt her own heartbeat begin to slow too, sleep quietly pulling her under not long after him.
SUMMARY: Friday night is Eddie’s long overdue Hellfire game, and his girlfriend gets to watch him do what he’s loved for a long time.
TAGS: (Please Read) Hellfire club reunion, Eddie created Hellfire in this AU, established relationships and friendships, domestic fluff, emotional hurt/comfort at the end, soft Eddie, found family, dungeon master!Eddie, buff!bearded!Eddie, modern Hawkins AU, Eddie is early 30s, Dustin, Mike, Lucas are mid-twenties, Gareth & Jeff are 30-ish, mentions of Eddie and the boys’ past (bec almost everything that happened in canon happened in this AU, only difference is timeline shift.)
Fem!Reader is in her late 20s, though unnamed/undescribed. <3
A/N: I had to wing some of the D&D stuff, because I have never played in my life, LOL. Also only proofread some of this. Bear w me pls.
Check out my masterlist for other works for this AU! ♥︎
Word Count: 4.9K
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
Occasionally on Friday nights, Eddie liked reverting back to his high school days and gathering the same friends he’d spent most of his teenage years with around a table for Dungeons & Dragons. Gareth and Jeff still lived in Hawkins and, despite adulthood pulling all of them in different directions over the years, the tradition had somehow survived.
Sometimes it was random one-shots they threw together on a whim — other times it was one of Eddie’s full campaigns, complete with overly detailed lore, stupidly specific character voices, and hand-drawn maps he’d spent way too much time on.
All of them had been part of Hellfire since middle school, back when Eddie had insisted on making them a MySpace page dedicated entirely to meetings, discussions, campaign ideas, and all things D&D. Years later, the page eventually evolved into a Facebook group, which somehow ended up being the only social media Eddie still actively used to this day.
After all these years, Eddie had found a different kind of peace at the gym too — a place where he could throw on his headphones, blast his music loud enough to drown everything else out, and work through whatever frustrations or stress had clung to him that week. Despite looking like a stereotypical gym guy now — broad shoulders, tattoos, a beard, muscles that made him slightly intimidating at first glance — he never really stopped being himself underneath it all.
More often than not, the second he got home from the gym, he’d immediately start planning for D&D night, fully slipping back into the same theatrical, charismatic, nerdy dungeon master he’d been since middle school. And honestly, his girlfriend loved watching it happen.
She loved the way he’d pace around the living room while brainstorming ideas out loud to himself, or how intensely focused he got while scribbling notes onto loose sheets of paper spread across the coffee table. Sometimes he’d suddenly test out voices for characters mid-conversation, dramatically acting out scenes while she sat there trying not to laugh.
There was something ridiculously endearing about seeing such a big, tattooed, bearded man become genuinely giddy over D&D.
Though this particular Friday had him more excited than usual. For the first time in forever, Dustin, Lucas, and Mike had all somehow managed to have matching schedules, meaning everyone would finally be there for the massive one-shot Eddie had been planning for weeks.
Eddie had only gotten home from the shop about an hour ago, but by now he was already showered and changed into comfortable black sweatpants and the newer Hellfire shirt he’d had made for himself a few years back, a near-perfect recreation of the original.
Practically buzzing with excitement, he moved around the dining room setting up the table with everything they’d need for the night’s endeavors — notebooks, character sheets, pencils, dice trays, loose papers filled with notes only he could understand, and the DM screen he still refused to replace despite how worn it had gotten over the years. Meanwhile, his girlfriend stood in the kitchen putting together snacks for everyone, wanting to contribute somehow even if she didn’t actually play herself. She stood at the kitchen counter putting the final touches on the food when Eddie approached from behind so quietly she didn’t notice him until his hands settled against her waist, making her jump.
“Everything looks delicious,” he commented in that absurd little character voice he’d randomly started using lately, sounding like a medieval tavern owner trying way too hard to flirt with a customer. She laughed softly, immediately matching his ridiculous voice. “Thank you, sir.”
Eddie’s face lit up almost instantly.
“See? You could totally play with us,” he said, pointing at her like he’d just proven an important point.
He’d been trying to convince her to join a game for ages now, constantly insisting he’d help her through everything and coach her the entire time if she’d just agree to one session. Still, she always declined politely, telling him she liked that he had something that was fully his. That never stopped him from trying again every couple of weeks, though.
“I will think about it,” she told him, amused despite herself. “Now help me carry this stuff to the table, please.”
“Right away, m’lady,” Eddie replied immediately, stepping back into an exaggerated bow dramatic enough to make her roll her eyes fondly. Grinning to himself, he straightened back up and gathered a few of the dishes in his hands before carrying them into the dining room while she followed behind him with the rest.
“Are you excited to see the boys?” she asked.
His grin softened slightly at that, almost boyish despite the beard. "Yeah," he admitted, voice dropping back into its normal register as he set the dishes down carefully on the table.
She smiled at him softly, something warm settling in her chest as she watched him move around the dining room with that same familiar excitement he always got whenever Hellfire was involved.
One of the first things she’d noticed after meeting Eddie was how close he was with what she eventually started referring to as ‘the boys’ — Dustin, Mike, Lucas, and Will. Gareth and Jeff were around more consistently now that everyone was older, but the younger four still slipped so naturally into Eddie’s life that the dynamic had always felt more like family than friendship.
Ever since meeting them during their freshman year of high school — when Eddie had technically been a senior for the second time — he’d looked at the four of them like younger brothers. And the second they joined his pride and joy, The Hellfire Club, that bond had only gotten stronger. He honestly couldn't wait to see them. Unfortunately, Will had regretfully told Eddie earlier that week he wouldn’t be able to fly home for the game after all, tied up with work out in LA and unable to get away in time for the weekend.
Eddie grabbed a piece of pepperoni from one of the plates and sat at the head of the table. He rubbed the back of his neck as he glanced toward the clock on the wall, absentmindedly straightening one of the notebooks sitting on the table while he talked.
“You know, the first time I DM’d for those little shits, I fully expected them to be awful at it,” he admitted with a quiet laugh. “Then Dustin somehow rolled three nat 20s back-to-back — which still pisses me off, by the way — and Mike immediately started arguing with me over homebrew rules like he’d been playing for twenty years.”
She smiled to herself as he spoke, already hearing the growing excitement in his voice the more he rambled. Eddie’s fingers tapped restlessly against the tabletop before he leaned back slightly with a soft shake of his head.
“Seriously, though,” he said, sounding almost disbelieving now, “I still can’t believe it’s been this long since we all got to play together.”
“I'm so happy you get to have your game,” she said genuinely, standing beside him and draping an arm loosely around his shoulder. He leaned into her side instinctively, glancing up at her with a smile that crinkled the corners of his eyes.
“You're gonna stay and watch, right? Maybe get tempted by the dark arts of dice rolling?” His fingers drummed playfully against the tabletop.
“Of course I’ll watch,” she assured him with a laugh. “As for joining… we’ll see.”
The sound of a car door slamming outside immediately caught Eddie’s attention. He perked up so fast it made her laugh under her breath as he shot out of the chair, only to immediately slam his knee against the edge of the table hard enough to make him swear beneath his breath. Still limping slightly, he hurried toward the front window anyway.
“Oh shit,” he muttered, peering through the blinds. “That’s Gareth’s car.”
She watched, amused, as he pressed closer to the glass with the excitement of an overgrown kid on Christmas morning.
Sure enough, Gareth and Jeff were already making their way up the driveway, Gareth wildly gesturing with a six-pack in hand while Jeff walked beside him looking deeply exhausted by whatever argument was currently happening. Even from inside the house, Eddie could recognize Gareth’s dramatic hand motions — the same ones he’d been using during D&D arguments since middle school. The front door swung open before either of them could knock.
“Took you assholes long enough,” Eddie called, leaning against the doorframe with a grin already spreading across his face. His eyes immediately dropped to the beer in Gareth’s hand. “Hope one of those’s for me.”
“Like I’d forget your needy ass,” Gareth shot back, tossing him a can. Eddie caught it easily, still grinning, while Jeff brushed past both of them with a long-suffering sigh.
“Move,” Jeff muttered, waving a notebook in the air. “I need to review my shit before Henderson gets here and starts hitting me with the ‘well actually’ nonsense.”
Entering the dining room, Jeff offered Eddie’s girlfriend a small smile as she settled into the chair at the opposite end of the table, a snack plate balanced in front of her.
“Hey,” he greeted casually.
She beamed back around a bite of cheese. “Hey, Jeff.”
Gareth wandered in behind him, lifting his beer in greeting, though his tone carried that awkward politeness he always seemed to default to around her. “Hey, uh… hope you don’t mind us invading your place again.”
She folded her arms dramatically and leaned back in her chair. “Not at all, Gareth. Please. Invade all you want.”
That earned a laugh from him as he cracked open one of the beers while Jeff immediately started clearing space for his meticulously organized character sheet and notes. Meanwhile, Eddie lingered near the front window, fingers tapping restlessly against his thigh as he kept glancing toward the driveway every couple of seconds. The second another pair of headlights pulled in, his face lit up all over again.
As soon as the car doors slammed outside, Eddie was already moving toward the front door before anyone else could even react.
“Oh, finally,” he muttered excitedly, yanking the door open just as Dustin, Mike, and Lucas started up the walkway carrying backpacks, dice cases, and enough snacks to feed an army.
“Jesus Christ,” Dustin blurted the second he looked up at Eddie properly. “What the hell happened to your face?”
Eddie immediately looked offended, one hand flying to his chest while the other stroked dramatically down his beard.
“What happened,” he repeated. “This, Henderson, is called masculinity.”
Lucas barked out a laugh while Mike shook his head, grinning despite himself.
“No, seriously,” Mike said as they stepped inside. “You look like you chop trees for living.”
Eddie shot him a sarcastic smile in response. Dustin was still staring at him with visible disbelief as Eddie pulled him into a quick one-armed hug anyway, immediately doing the same to Lucas and Mike right after. The excitement radiating off him was almost impossible to miss now that everyone was finally there together again.
“You guys have no idea how insane this one-shot’s gonna be,” Eddie warned as he shut the door behind them, smiling boyishly like he’d been waiting weeks to say exactly that.
Dustin immediately spotted Eddie’s girlfriend sitting at the dining table and lit up, completely abandoning whatever comment he’d been about to throw at Eddie in favor of making a beeline straight toward her.
“Hey, stranger,” he teased, throwing his arms around her shoulders in a quick hug before pulling back again with a cheesy smile. “Thought you got rid of us for good, huh?”
She laughed softly, reaching up to affectionately mess with his curls. “Never.”
Lucas stepped in right after for a quick hug of his own while Mike followed with his usual slightly awkward attempt at casual affection that somehow still came off endearing anyway.
“You’re looking suspiciously comfortable over there,” Mike noted, eyeing the snack plate in front of her with narrowed eyes. “Almost like you’re planning to actually play this time.”
She popped a grape into her mouth with a little shrug. “Just observing.”
“We’ll see,” Eddie butted in casually as he entered the room.
Before she could argue otherwise, everyone started settling into their usual spots around the table, helping themselves to snacks and drinks while dice bags, notebooks, and character sheets slowly took over every inch of open space.
After a few hours, the entire table had slipped into the familiar rhythm of the game, conversation overlapping with dice rolls, dramatic reactions, arguments, and bursts of laughter every few minutes. Dustin kept loudly protesting every minor inconvenience Eddie threw at them, Mike was already trying to debate technicalities across the table, Lucas stayed focused on actually keeping everyone on track, Gareth continued suggesting the most reckless possible solutions to every problem, yet panicking when hearing the consequences, and Jeff sat surrounded by organized notes and papers while muttering suspiciously at Eddie under his breath every time something sounded remotely dangerous.
From where she sat nearby, Eddie’s girlfriend found herself smiling more and more without realizing it. She loved watching this side of him — the way he completely came alive while DMing, animated hands moving through the air while he narrated scenes with dramatic intensity like he was performing for an audience. Her attention drifted periodically to the way his biceps stretched beneath the sleeves of his Hellfire shirt as he reached across the table for his dice, the movement absentminded but distracting enough to make her lose track of whatever anyone was saying.
Every now and then, right in the middle of explaining something important, Eddie would glance over at her and casually wink before immediately slipping back into character.
“The cavern opens into a massive ruined hall,” Eddie narrated, lowering his voice enough that the entire table instinctively quieted. “And standing at the center is a death knight in blackened armor.” A mischievous smile took over at the looks forming around the table. “Everybody roll initiative.”
Dustin groaned dramatically, flipping open his character sheet while Mike immediately started rifling through his spell cards with newfound intensity. Lucas leaned forward with narrowed eyes, already studying Eddie’s expression like he could somehow sniff out an incoming betrayal before it happened. Beside him, Gareth muttered a nervous “Oh, we’re so fucked,” under his breath while reaching for his dice, and Jeff immediately started scanning through his notes with the look of someone mentally preparing for disaster.
The energy around the table shifted almost instantly — the boys exchanging looks, fingers tapping anxiously against dice, shoulders squaring with anticipation. Exactly the reaction Eddie had been hoping for when he designed this moment weeks ago.
From the opposite end of the table, his girlfriend watched the entire thing with quiet amusement, fascinated by how quickly the playful banter had transformed into complete, genuine focus. Dice started clattering across the table, a chorus of groans and muttered swearing followed right after as everyone checked their numbers at once.
Eddie stayed suspiciously calm through all of it. He waited just long enough for the tension to settle heavily over the table before leaning forward slightly, fingers steepled beneath his beard as his voice dropped lower, slower.
“The death knight slowly lifts its sword,” he narrated. “Rusted. Jagged. Still dripping with something dark from the last poor bastard who crossed its path.”
Around the table, everyone had gone completely quiet. Then Eddie’s eyes flicked suddenly toward his girlfriend, the corner of his mouth twitching briefly when he caught her attention.
“And then…” he continued slowly, “it looks straight at you.”
Her eyebrows shot up instantly. At the same time, every head around the table whipped toward her too.
“Excuse me?” she asked, looking between all of them with immediate suspicion. Eddie’s grin only widened as he leaned back in his chair, fingers drumming lightly against the tabletop.
“The death knight recognizes you,” he said smoothly, clearly enjoying the confusion already spreading around the room, “as the long-lost princess of the fallen kingdom.”
“What?” Dustin blurted immediately.
Lucas pointed accusingly across the table. “See? I knew you were planning something shady.”
Meanwhile, Gareth had already started laughing while Jeff dropped his head into one hand like he physically could not believe Eddie was dragging a non-player into the lore. She looked around the table with her mouth slightly open, clearly caught completely off guard by the sudden attention now directed at her. Eddie’s smile was smug as he leaned back in his chair slightly, clearly far too pleased with himself.
“Princess,” he purred in that overly theatrical DM voice of his, “you’ve been part of the story all along. Time to roll.”
Her cheeks immediately flushed red. Part of it was because she hated being put on the spot so suddenly with everyone staring at her, but another part — arguably the more embarrassing part — was because of the way that nickname sounded coming from him. Especially in that voice. Around the table, Dustin’s eyebrows shot up while Gareth looked seconds away from losing his mind.
“Um…” she started weakly, glancing between all of them completely frozen. Even after sitting there watching the game for the last couple hours, she hadn’t exactly been paying attention to the rules. Honestly, most of her attention had been on Eddie the entire time instead.
Eddie’s expression softened slightly at the obvious panic crossing her face. Still rolling the die absently between his fingers, he stood from his chair and slowly rounded the table, every set of eyes in the room following him in complete silence — including hers. When he stopped beside her, Eddie reached down and took her hand gently, turning her palm upward before placing the die into it.
“Don’t worry, princess. You just gotta roll once, that’s all,” he murmured, his tone smooth enough to make her cheeks warm all over again, even while he stayed committed to the bit. His fingers curled briefly around hers before pulling away. “I’ll talk you through the rest.”
That last line made her stomach flutter, and she slowly closed her fingers around the die as she watched Eddie make his way back toward the head of the table. Even after sitting back down, his eyes lingered on her from across the room, his warm brown gaze noticeably darker in a way she knew usually came from passion. The only problem was she couldn’t tell whether it was because of the game or something else entirely.
Taking a deep breath, she uncrossed her legs and leaned forward in her chair. Nervously chewing the inside of her lip, she shook the die gently in her hand before tossing it toward the center of the table. The die bounced once against the wood, then again, before finally landing on a natural twenty.
For half a second, the entire table went dead silent.
Then Dustin practically yelled, Gareth slammed both hands against the table in disbelief, and Lucas leaned back in his chair with a loud, “No way.” Even Jeff looked personally offended by the luck while Mike immediately pointed accusingly at Eddie like he’d somehow rigged it.
The chaos erupting around the table barely seemed to register for Eddie. His attention stayed completely on her, something undeniably proud settling into his expression as a slow smirk spread across his face. He leaned back in his chair, rubbing his hand along his beard while holding her gaze with an intensity that made her stomach flip all over again.
The others quieted down.
“What happens now?” Lucas asked, absentmindedly spinning a pen between his fingers. Eddie still hadn’t looked away from her.
The smirk on his face softened into something quieter, more intent, as he leaned forward slightly against the table, fingers tapping once against the worn wood before he continued narrating.
“The death knight freezes the second the princess steps forward,” he said, his voice low enough that the entire room fell silent again. “Because the symbol she carries is the same crest worn by the royal bloodline that sealed him away centuries ago.”
Dustin immediately sat up straighter. Eddie’s eyes stayed locked on hers as he continued.
“And suddenly,” he murmured, “everybody realizes the princess was never the one meant to be protected.” A slow grin tugged at his mouth again. “She’s the one capable of ending the fight.”
Her eyes widened as she shook her head slightly, like she was trying to physically process what had just happened.
“I’m so fucking lost right now,” she admitted with a light laugh, the confusion in her voice evident.
Eddie let out a quiet laugh, the corner of his mouth lifting into an endearing smirk that disappeared almost as quickly as it came. A second later, he was fully locked back into character, expression turning serious again as he looked around the table.
“The princess steps between the party and the death knight,” he continued, voice lowering dramatically. “And the second she touches the crest around her neck, the entire chamber erupts with light.”
Everyone at the table had gone completely silent again.
“The curse binding the knight finally breaks,” Eddie narrated, eyes flicking briefly toward her before returning to the rest of the group. “His armor splits apart, the sword drops from his hand, and the army surrounding the hall collapses with him.”
Dustin immediately pointed across the table. “Dude, you made your girlfriend the chosen one.”
“Seriously,” Gareth laughed. “We fought for, like, three hours just for her to show up and accidentally save all of us with one roll.”
Mike narrowed his eyes suspiciously at Eddie. “You absolutely planned this whole thing.”
Meanwhile, Jeff leaned back in his chair with a dramatic sigh. “I can’t believe we just got side-charactered in our own game.”
The tips of Eddie’s ears turned faintly pink beneath his curls at the accusations being thrown around the table, though the amused grin on his face never slipped once. He drummed his fingers lightly against the tabletop and leaned back in his chair with exaggerated innocence.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
His eyes flicked back toward her almost immediately afterward, warm with fondness despite all the teasing surrounding them. “Besides,” he added casually, “the princess earned that roll fair and square.”
“That's right,” she cut in finally, nodding firmly as she pointed toward Eddie in agreement. “Thank you, baby.”
Caught up in the moment, she didn’t even realize she’d used the nickname she normally reserved for when they were alone until the word left her mouth. The reaction around the table was immediate.
Dustin practically choked on his drink while Lucas snorted. “How cute.”
Across from them, Mike scrunched his face up dramatically before dragging a hand down it like he’d just been personally attacked by the pet name.
Eddie tried, and failed, to hide the way his cheeks turned faintly pink at the nickname, his jaw flexing as he rubbed a hand over his beard in a poor attempt to hide his smile.
Lucas immediately pointed between the two of them. “Oh, he liked that.”
Before Eddie could defend himself, Mike leaned back in his chair with a dramatic groan. “This one-shot is biased.”
“Extremely biased,” Dustin agreed.
Still visibly amused, Eddie started gathering loose notes and dice from around the table. “Alright, relax,” he said. “You guys survived the death knight, the kingdom’s saved, the princess is safe. Let’s call it there.”
“Wait,” Gareth interrupted suddenly, pointing between Eddie and his girlfriend. “Doesn’t she get an epilogue?”
Jeff nodded immediately in agreement, which only made her look more confused.
“What’s an epilogue?”
“Basically what happens to your character after the story ends,” Eddie explained, glancing briefly toward the clock before looking back at her.
Dustin leaned forward instantly. “Okay, so what happens to the princess?”
The room quieted as Eddie’s attention settled back on her, something softer slipping briefly into his expression.
“The princess returns to her kingdom,” he said slowly, “and she gets her happy ending.”
Gareth narrowed his eyes. “That’s suspiciously simple.”
Eddie ignored him entirely, standing from the table with a quiet sigh. “Alright, seriously, we should wrap up before it gets too late.”
Nobody argued. Everyone naturally started gathering their things while conversations overlapped around the room, though Eddie lingered beside the table for another moment, absentmindedly flipping through his notebook before shutting it.
“You okay?” she asked softly as she moved closer beside him. Eddie nodded, though he still seemed slightly lost in thought as his fingers brushed lightly against her wrist.
“Just thinking,” he murmured.
“About what?”
He looked at her for a second before giving a small shrug. “Life, I guess.”
Before she could ask anything else, Dustin approached with his bag slung over one shoulder.
“Alright, we’re heading out. Thanks for having us,” Dustin said with a smile. Eddie blinked, pulling himself out of whatever thoughts had settled over him before nodding toward Dustin. Leaning in, he pulled him into a quick hug. “Thanks for coming, man.”
Lucas and Mike wandered over too, exchanging quick hugs and handshakes while Gareth and Jeff hovered near the front door waiting impatiently for everyone else to finish saying their goodbyes.
“Have to plan another one sometime,” Eddie said as he walked them toward the front door. Everyone immediately agreed, even with the quiet understanding lingering beneath it all that coordinating everyone’s schedules again would probably be a nightmare.
Still, smiles and tired goodbyes were exchanged as they slowly filtered out toward their cars. Eddie stayed standing in the doorway watching all five of them disperse down the driveway, the porch light catching against the curls falling around his face. A second later, Dustin honked his horn twice from the street in one last goodbye. Eddie lifted a hand and waved back.
Behind him, his girlfriend stood quietly in the archway between the living room and dining room, leaning against the wall as she watched him with a soft, almost pitying expression.
“Eddie?” Her voice was quiet after a few moments. “You okay?”
He turned from the door after locking it, though at first he didn’t answer. Instead, he just stood there silently for a second, blinking away the haze of memories clouding the back of his mind.
Even after all these years, Eddie still struggled sometimes with the reality of how much had changed. He still saw some of his old friends fairly often, including Robin and Steve, but it was different with the younger boys. Back then, Dustin, Mike, Lucas, and Will had spent nearly every day together with him, bonded not just through Hellfire, but through things they survived side by side that most people would never understand. Somewhere along the way, Eddie had started loving them like younger brothers without even realizing it. They were all still close now, still cared about each other deeply, but adulthood had scattered pieces of that closeness into schedules, jobs, distance, and exhaustion.
Without saying anything, Eddie finally walked toward her slowly, his broad shoulders noticeably heavier now than they had been all night. The second he reached her, she caught the shine of unshed tears in his eyes before he quietly lowered his head onto her shoulder and wrapped his arms tightly around her waist. She hugged his neck, eyes shut as she held him against her.
Eddie’s girlfriend knew enough about their past, despite not having lived through it herself. She knew enough to understand that everything they’d survived together, everything Eddie himself had survived, made moments like this feel almost miraculous sometimes. The fact that he was here at all, standing in her arms and allowing himself to be loved in the gentle, steady way he deserved, was something she never took for granted.
Over time, she’d grown close with the others too, naturally caring for the people Eddie cared for so deeply. And because Eddie didn’t trust easily, not after everything he’d been through, the fact that he trusted her enough to be this vulnerable in front of her made her chest ache in the best possible way. The thought lingered heavily enough in her chest that she found herself saying it out loud, her voice soft near his ear as she held him.
“I’m really proud of you,” she murmured. “For being able to grow and change, but still stay yourself through all of it.”
She leaned back just enough to gently cup his face in her hands, guiding him to look at her properly. His cheeks were still faintly damp from tears, his expression quieter than usual as she brushed her thumbs lightly against his skin.
“And I love that you still care so deeply about your friends,” she continued softly, her voice steady with sincerity. “A lot of people lose that as they get older. You didn’t.”
Silence settled between them for a few quiet seconds, neither of them expecting the aftermath of tonight to feel this emotionally heavy. Instead of brushing her words off with humor like he normally would, Eddie simply nodded faintly, his gaze dropping down as he sniffled once. He exhaled shakily before finally speaking, fully giving in to the weight of the moment instead of trying to joke his way around it. His voice came out rough enough that it made her arms tighten around him instinctively.
“Kinda hits me sometimes,” he admitted quietly. “How lucky I am. That we all made it. That I got you.” His fingers flexed slightly against her waist as he swallowed hard, his eyes drifting downward again. “Back then, I honestly never thought I’d make it this far.”
Her lips pressed together into a small smile to stop them from trembling at the visible emotion in his face.
As Severa’s connection to Edward deepens, the line between dreams and memories begins to unravel completely.
(Can’t remember if I proofread this or not lol.)
Word Count: 2k
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
The next day – evening.
Severa sits in the library with her body angled toward the window, her eyes fixed on the burning sunset bleeding through the clouds beyond the glass. Normally, the beauty of a sky like this would have been enough to quiet the constant noise in her mind, but tonight it barely reaches her at all.
Two thoughts collide in Severa’s mind: how the man in the top hat somehow knows her name… and the unsettling realization that Dr. Blackmere has yet to appear even once today.
After Nurse Maren caught her in the garden late yet again, Severa had been certain some form of punishment would be waiting for her — or at the very least, another suffocating lecture. However, she has yet to see him even in passing, and the lingering uncertainty of what if has become far more punishing than whatever consequence she originally expected.
When the final traces of sunlight finally disappear beneath the horizon, giving way to dusk, Severa rises from her chair. Her fingers adjust and tighten the strap of the satchel now permanently secured at her side before leaving the library. It’s when she turns the corner toward the staircase leading to her room that Dr. Blackmere comes into view at the opposite end of the hallway, already walking in her direction.
Severa’s grip tightens around the strap at her side as she instinctively braces herself for something — anything. His footsteps slow as he approaches her, though he doesn’t stop entirely.
“I trust today was restful,” he says, his voice lower than usual. “Safer than wandering.”
The comment is barely audible; if Severa hadn’t been standing so close, she might have missed it altogether, but the implication is impossible to ignore. Somehow, he knows about her latest transgression. It’s impossible that he wouldn’t know.
Severa’s pace falters slightly at the remark, though she keeps her gaze ahead as Dr. Blackmere calmly continues past her. Confusion settles eerily in her chest; whatever interaction she had anticipated, it certainly wasn’t that.
Taking a quiet breath, Severa continues to her room and gently shuts the door behind her. She had already eaten dinner in the library earlier, hopefully removing any reason for someone to disturb her for the remainder of the night. Placing the satchel carefully on the chair beside her desk, she moves across the room and slowly pulls the thick curtains shut.
𑁍𑁍𑁍
Edward stands motionless between the trees at the edge of the forest, both hands resting on the handle of his cane while the night wind lightly stirs the ends of his hair beneath the brim of his hat. His eyes remain locked on the darkened window of Severa's room, though the curtains have been drawn shut tightly enough to hide any sign of her beyond the glass. Still, he watches it in silence, lingering there simply to feel close to her.
After their first conversation the night before, Edward hasn't been able to rid his mind of her voice, not that he has any desire to. No matter the century, no matter the life she lives, her voice always seems to reach him the same way.
And when she looked at him in the forest, he saw it clearly in her eyes: the faint flicker of relief upon finally placing a real face to the one haunting her dreams, along with something deeper that stirred quietly within him. A quiet understanding that the walls separating them for centuries are finally beginning to fracture.
His attention is so consumed with the dull reflection of moonlight against Severa’s darkened window that he doesn’t initially notice her slipping back into the gardens once again. It’s only when the steady rhythm of her heartbeat begins growing louder in his ears that his gaze finally shifts.
There she is.
Severa moves carefully through the garden in his direction, her expression intent and focused in the moonlight; from this distance, Edward can’t quite tell whether or not she’s spotted him standing among the trees already.
Edward can’t help the faint softening in his expression at the sight of her, and her persistence, despite not yet knowing the truth of who he is.
The way Severa’s gaze refuses to leave him as she approaches the iron gate makes it immediately clear to Edward that she’s found him; he stays where he is, shoulders straightening as he watches her come closer than before. He steps closer as well, coming to stand just behind the narrow bars.
The two of them now stand only an arm’s length apart, the gate serving as the only thing separating them, close enough for the moonlight to fully reveal one another. Edward’s chest rises with a slow inhale as he takes in the woman before him — the dark waves of her hair falling down her back, the unwavering intensity of her eyes as they never stray from him.
Something about being this close to her overwhelms Edward; a deep, aching sense of peace rising within him. Being able to exist beside her once more will never fail to bring him happiness.
Severa steps even closer until her nose nearly brushes one of the iron bars, her eyes narrowing slightly as she studies him in the moonlight.
“You said my name last night,” she says carefully, though he hardly needs reminding. “How did you know my name? I never told it to you.”
Before Edward can form a careful response, Severa speaks again.
“You take — sorry, borrow — my journal,” she begins, frustration threading through her voice, “and then reveal yourself as the man I’ve been drawing for years.” Her brows pull together as she steps a little bit closer, close enough that Edward can practically taste the scent of her that surrounds him with every breath he takes.
“Just tell me, how?” Her tone implies it’s more of a demand, than a question.
Edward exhales through his nose, his thumb brushing idly along the handle of his cane as he considers his response. There’s something painfully endearing about the stubborn tilt of Severa’s chin, the way her fingers curl tighter into her sleeve as she waits for an answer he isn’t sure he can give her — not fully. Not yet.
“Some questions,” he says, his voice soft and low in the quiet between them, “have answers that are better understood when they unfold naturally.” He leans slightly toward her, the brim of his hat casting shifting shadows across his face. “Wouldn’t you agree?”
Severa’s brows furrow, her expression caught somewhere between irritation and something else. Something like... intrigue.
“That’s not an answer,” she counters.
“It is,” he assures her, his dark eyes locked onto hers. “Just not the one you want.” The corner of his mouth curls upward slightly as he watches her face.
Severa lets out a quiet huff, the sound edged clearly with frustration. “I can’t…” She trails off, giving a small shake of her head as if struggling to properly voice the chaos in her mind.
“How do I know I can trust you?” she asks finally. Edward’s gaze softens, though the intensity of it never wavers. He tilts his head slightly, studying her.
“Your soul tells you to,” he mumbles, voice barely above a whisper. The wind stirs the loose strands of his hair, brushing against his jawline as he reaches through the iron bars slowly; hesitantly, his fingers curl lightly around her hand.
The moment Edward's hand closes around hers, he watches Severa's expression shift, and then her eyes suddenly go distant as the world around them disappears from her entirely.
Dravenia’s warm summer rain patters against garden leaves as Edward pulls her beneath the shelter of an old stone arch, both of them breathless and soaked through.
His hands cradle her face, thumbs brushing rain from her cheeks; the touch feels gentle and familiar, before he leans in close enough that she can feel his smile against her skin.
“Eddie,” she laughs.
“My sweetheart…”
Severa’s eyes suddenly snap back into focus on the man before her, her breath hitching sharply as though she’s just resurfaced from somewhere deep underwater. She stares at him in stunned silence, recognition flooding her expression so suddenly it almost looks painful. The realization hits her.
“Eddie…” The name leaves Severa’s lips like both a question and a revelation all at once, and for the first time, the face from her dreams no longer feels like a stranger’s.
“H-how…” Tears brim Severa’s eyes as she looks over Edward’s face. Edward automatically reaches up, his thumb brushing away one stray tear before it can fall.
“Your dreams aren’t just dreams, Severa,” he says softly, fingers lingering against her cheekbone. “They’re echoes. Memories of lifetimes before this one, buried deep in your soul.”
He lets out a soft exhale, his face gentle despite the seriousness in his tone. “You’re not ill. You never were.”
The words leave Severa momentarily stunned into silence. Under any other circumstance, she thinks she might have broken down entirely at the confirmation that she isn’t sick — that the man she has spent years dreaming about, sketching obsessively, and searching for actually exists beyond the confines of her mind. But the shock of finally standing before him keeps her rooted in place, still struggling to fully process the impossible reality of him being real.
Edward's fingers trail lightly down her cheek before withdrawing back through the gate, both of his hands resting once again on his cane, though he remains close enough that Severa can see the faint flecks of gold in his brown eyes.
“Blackmere knows more than he lets on,” Edward mutters, glancing briefly toward the manor. “He isn’t only a doctor, Severa. He’s been watching you for reasons you can’t yet imagine.”
The warning in his tone is unmistakable. Severa’s momentary shock quickly resolves, worry slamming sharply back into her chest at the mention of the doctor’s name. Just beneath it, curiosity begins stirring over how Edward seems to know Dr. Blackmere at all.
As though the forest itself carried his name, Dr. Blackmere’s voice suddenly echoes from the main garden door of Blackmere House.
“Miss Severa!”
A shaky breath leaves her as her eyes snap to Edward’s, something almost pleading flickering across her expression, as though silently begging him to stop this somehow — because for reasons she can’t fully explain, standing in front of him feels far safer than whatever awaits her back inside Blackmere House.
“Go,” Edward instructs quietly.
“I can’t,” she breathes.
The urgency in his voice lowers, softening into something steadier, something protective.
“Severa,” he says, more stern this time. “When it’s safe, I will come for you. But you must trust me now.” His gaze lingers on hers, unyielding. “Go.”
Severa slowly steps backward, her pulse suddenly pounding much harder than before. A new kind of fear begins creeping underneath her skin at the realization that even Edward is warning her about Dr. Blackmere. Though a small part of her aches at being told to return there, to the very place that’s begun filling her with dread, she still finds herself trusting Edward despite it.
She doesn’t need to turn around to know Edward disappears back into the trees as she slowly makes her way toward the looming prison of Blackmere House. A cold sheen of sweat begins forming along her face and neck, and it’s only once she fully senses Edward’s absence — and sees Dr. Blackmere waiting ahead — that she swallows hard.
The doctor stands at the entrance of the back door with his hands tucked neatly into his trouser pockets, still formally dressed despite the late hour. His expression remains unnervingly still, though the coldness in his eyes is obvious as they track Severa’s every hesitant step toward him.
“You are making recovery very difficult,” he remarks calmly, though the restrained irritation in his voice is evident. He turns and walks back inside, the gesture alone serving as a silent command for Severa to follow. Though dread twists lightly in her chest, she obeys quietly, her trust in Edward battling uneasily against the fear clawing its way through her.
SUMMARY: Eddie’s girlfriend decides she wants a piece before he has to leave for work at Hawkins Auto. Thankfully, being the owner means Eddie gets to decide how ‘late’ he can be.
TAGS: Smut! (18+), morning sex, established relationship, domestic fluff, slight praise kink if you squint, mechanic!Eddie AU, modern Hawkins AU, buff!bearded!Eddie, Eddie is in his early 30s. (Only proofread some of this, too tired to finish.)
Fem!Reader is in her late 20s, though unnamed/undescribed. <3
Check out my masterlist for other works for this AU! ♥︎
(I fucking love this AU. I cannot stop writing for it.)
Word Count: 2.1K
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
Most mornings, Eddie tried not to wake his girlfriend while he got ready for work. Still, she’d gotten so used to the sounds of him moving around their bedroom that she often found herself lying there with sleepy, half-open eyes just to watch him quietly start his day — though ‘quietly’ was usually relative when it came to Eddie.
The light creak of dresser drawers opening, the low hum of music drifting from his phone speaker in the bathroom, the heavy thud of his work boots hitting the floor one at a time. After nearly three years together, it had all become strangely comforting to her, familiar in the best possible way.
Her eyes opened slightly as she watched Eddie carefully pull open their shared closet door, reaching inside for one of his Hawkins Auto t-shirts. Her gaze trailed over the thick muscle of his arms as he reached, then down the broad span of his back to the trim of his waist hugged by his dark navy work pants.
Lucky for him, his work clothes were simple. Lucky for her, he looked ridiculously good in them.
A fond, appreciative hum left her throat. Eddie heard the sound and paused mid-motion, glancing over his shoulder with a grin already tugging at his lips.
“Mmm?” he repeated, one eyebrow lifting. “Someone’s up early.” His voice was low, still rough with sleep but already carrying that familiar teasing tone as he turned toward her, the shirt he’d grabbed left hanging loosely over his shoulder instead of being pulled on.
“Mhm,” her eyes closed briefly as she nodded once.
Eddie chuckled softly before tossing the shirt onto the bed beside her. A second later, he crawled onto the mattress, his weight dipping it beneath him as he hovered over her, bracing himself on his forearms. The warmth of his freshly showered skin and the clean scent of his cologne wrapped around her instantly, caging her comfortably against the bed. His beard brushed across her skin as he nuzzled into the curve of her neck.
“Good morning,” she hummed with a smile, slipping her arms out from beneath him so she could loosely wrap them around his neck.
“Mornin’,” he mumbled back, the word muffled against her skin.
Her fingers moved absentmindedly through his hair, still slightly damp from the shower he’d taken after waking up, while he slowly pressed further into her. His face stayed tucked into her neck as more of his weight settled over her, drawing a laugh from her the more dramatic he became. His arms slipped beneath her, trapped between her body and the mattress just so he could hold her tighter. He was heavy, all warm muscle and weight, but she loved the way he always seemed to melt against her like this.
They stayed like that for another couple of minutes before Eddie finally lifted his head, his face hovering only inches from hers when she met his eyes. He leaned down first, placing a lingering kiss to her cheek before beginning to pull himself away. But before he could fully lift himself from the bed, her hand reached up, fingers gently catching the silver chain dangling from his neck.
Eddie froze mid-retreat, blinking down at her with amusement flickering in his eyes. A slow, knowing smirk crossed his face — one that only deepened when she tugged lightly on the chain still clasped in her fingers.
“Oh?” he questioned. “You wanna play before work?”
“I absolutely do,” she mumbled softly, eyes wandering over his face. “Unless you have to get going...”
Eddie let out a breathy laugh, his pretty brown eyes slightly hooded as he looked down at her. His nostrils flared faintly before he settled his weight back over her again.
“Baby, who’s gonna write me up for being late? Me?” he said with a small grin, dragging his fingers through her sleep-mussed hair. She smiled at his joke as his hand moved down to gently grasp her wrist still holding his chain, guiding it away before pressing her hand firmly into the mattress beside her head.
Her expression softened as she bit down on her lip, her free hand slipping between them to push the blankets aside in a messy heap near the edge of the bed. Warmth bloomed through her cheeks, anticipation curling low in her stomach as Eddie dipped his head and kissed her softly, unhurried and lingering enough to make her melt beneath him. Her hand drifted upward, fingertips gliding over the broad slope of his shoulder before settling around his bicep. She could feel the subtle flex of muscle beneath his skin as he shifted over her, solid and heavy in a way that always made her feel completely surrounded by him.
The belt buckle clicked as Eddie freed it one-handed, his fingers working without hurry — a sharp contrast to the way his mouth moved against her neck, teeth grazing sensitive skin in gentle, teasing bites. He hummed deep in his throat at the way her breath caught, her fingers tightening against his arm as he tugged his belt free from the loops and let it drop carelessly to the floor with a muted thud.
“You just look so good getting ready for work,” she whispered near his ear, slowly dragging her knee along his side.
Eddie’s beard tickled her skin as he laughed softly against her neck, taking her hand and guiding it smoothly to the waistband of his pants. “Undo these for me, pretty girl.”
“Yes, sir,” she replied, unable to hide the subtle excitement in her voice as her fingers moved to undo the button of his pants. The rasp of Eddie’s zipper filled the room as he helped her guide it down, his breath warm against her lips when he leaned in to claim hers again. She opened her mouth to him as her hands cradled his face, breathing deeply through her nose. The kiss deepened naturally, full of the same passion he always gave her, steady enough that she could savor every second of it.
Eddie shifted his weight onto his left elbow, while his right hand worked his pants open just enough to free himself. His fingers trailed down her thigh, lifting her leg just enough to drape it over his hip as he settled himself between hers. She could feel him pressing against her, slow and teasing at first, until a quiet hum came from her throat as she tilted her hips upward to meet him. Eddie groaned softly against her mouth, fingers tightening around her thigh as he pushed forward, slipping inside with one smooth roll of his hips.
“Fuck,” he breathed, pulling back slightly from the kiss. His forehead pressed against hers as he buried himself fully into her. “Morning sex is so fuckin’ good.”
His hips rocked into hers at first, each movement lazy and thorough, dragging soft gasps from her lips while his fingers traced idle patterns along the skin of her thigh.
He kissed her again, swallowing her quiet moan as he pushed himself deeper, setting a steady rhythm that quickly had her arching into him, chasing every careful thrust. Eddie laughed low in his throat at the reaction, pressing his lips to the curve of her neck.
“That’s my girl,” he murmured against her skin, biting lightly at her pulse point. Her fingers curled into his hair, nails barely scratching against his scalp as he shifted his weight, adjusting himself onto his forearms for better leverage. The new angle sent him deeper, earning a loud moan from her lips as her hips moved to meet his thrusts. Eddie groaned, his breath hot near her ear as he quickened his pace slightly, just enough to draw more of those pretty sounds from her throat.
“Eddie,” she mewled, fingers tightening in his hair as he lowered his head to leave open-mouthed kisses along her collarbone. His name spilled from her lips again, quieter this time, barely more than a whisper as his hand slipped under her shirt, fingers teasing just beneath the curve of her breast.
Eddie hummed against her skin, his hips thrusting deep and slow as his thumb brushed over her nipple, prompting a sharp gasp from her mouth. He lifted his head just enough to meet her eyes, his own darkened with pleasure as he watched her lips part on a moan.
“That’s it,” he cooed, squeezing her breast gently in his palm. “Lemme see you.”
She arched into his touch with a faint whimper, her nails dragging lightly down the back of his neck as she let her head tip back against the pillows. The heat of his hand on her skin, the rhythmic push of his hips — every sensation tightened the heat already curling low in her stomach with each deep roll of his body against hers. Her breath came in short, uneven gasps, her legs tightening around his waist as she pulled him closer, craving the weight of him pressing her into the mattress.
Eddie growled, low and rough, when she clenched around him, his fingers flexing on her side as his hips stuttered slightly. His lips found hers again in a slow, open-mouthed kiss, his tongue dragging lazily over hers while his free hand slid down her body, slipping between them to press into the heat of her. The first brush of his fingers against her clit drew a sharp cry from her, muffled by his mouth as she writhed beneath him, pleasure coiling tighter in her stomach.
“Fuck,” she hissed lightly, pulling back from the kiss as her nails dug deeper into his shoulders. The tension pulled tighter with every deliberate stroke of his fingers, every deep thrust of his hips — her body trembled beneath him, heat pooling low until it threatened to spill over. Eddie watched her unravel with dark, possessive satisfaction, his rhythm faltering as her thighs clenched around him.
“Atta girl,” he rasped, breath ragged against her ear as her back arched off the mattress. The back of her head pushed into the pillow as she came undone beneath him, every muscle tensing before sinking into the sheets — Eddie watched her fall apart with heavy-lidded eyes, his own release chasing hers with a groan muffled against her shoulder.
He stayed inside her for another moment, savoring the way her body still fluttered around him before finally pulling out with a quiet exhale. His fingers brushed stray hairs back from her forehead as his thumb traced the warm flush high on her cheeks.
“Damn good way to start the day,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to her nose before rolling off the bed with a quiet grunt.
“Ugh,” she whined the second his weight disappeared from above her. Laughing softly as he stretched, Eddie tossed her a wink while adjusting himself back into his pants.
“C’mon, don’t make that face,” he teased, bending to retrieve his belt before giving her thigh a playful swat. “If I’m any later, Ray’s gonna start thinkin’ I died.”
She smiled, huffing a quiet laugh through her nose as she rolled onto her side to watch him fix his belt and pull his work shirt on. Eddie stood from the bed afterward, grabbing his watch from the nightstand and fastening it around his wrist with practiced ease. When his gaze lifted back to her, a dimple pressed into his cheek as he smiled.
A second later, he crossed back toward the bed, bracing a hand beside her as he bent down to leave one last soft kiss against her lips before pulling back just enough for his face to hover above hers.
“See you later, angel,” he murmured, “I’ll call you on my break.”
“Okay, baby,” she smiled sweetly. The way she looked up at him — soft and sleepy, skin still flushed from the morning they’d shared — made something tighten warmly in his chest. His hand came up to cradle her face, thumb brushing lightly along her cheekbone as he leaned down once more, his voice dropping into that quiet, intimate tone she adored so much.
“I love you,” he said.
She looked at him softly, the sincerity behind it was unmistakable. “I love you.”
His thumb lingered against her cheek for another second before he finally straightened with a reluctant sigh, reaching for his keys on the dresser, the soft jingle of metal filling the room.
“Don’t go back to sleep before you eat something,” he said, glancing back at her with that familiar fondness and slight bossy tilt of his chin.
She mirrored the look with exaggerated seriousness. “Will do.”
With one last smirk, Eddie stepped out into the hallway, his boots thudding softly against the hardwood before fading into the distant rumble of the garage door opening. The quiet that followed settled around her gently as she curled deeper beneath the sheets, breathing in the lingering scent of his cologne still clinging to the pillow.
SUMMARY: A cute/casual date night where one comment turns into a promise for later. (I saw this tiktok, and immediately wanted to write a lil something based off it. The beginning is mostly fluff, though maybe I will write part two to this one, LOL.) (also not entirely proofread)
TAGS: fluff, established relationship, date night, domestic intimacy, mechanic!Eddie AU, modern Hawkins AU, buff!bearded!Eddie, Eddie is in his early 30s, teasing, suggestive themes.
Fem!Reader is in her late 20s, though unnamed/undescribed. <3
Check out my masterlist for other works for this AU! ♥︎
Word Count: 1.7K
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
Not every date with Eddie was planned weeks ahead or written neatly into a schedule. Sometimes they happened after he got off work, calling her on his drive home from the shop just to tell her to ‘be ready’ by the time he got there. Then all he had to do was shower, change, and take her to whatever little restaurant he’d decided on that night. Though she never minded the lack of planning, dates with Eddie felt special no matter what they were doing.
Tonight, he’d taken her to Roane Street Bar & Grill, a casual little restaurant in the main part of town that the two of them had been to more times than they could count. The dim lighting and worn booths gave the place a cozy feel, and the food was good — the kind they craved on nights when both of them wanted something comforting but neither felt like cooking.
The two of them often sat tucked into a booth near the back of the restaurant, close to the old jukebox that still worked despite its age. Every now and then, Eddie would wander over and shove a few bills into it just to play music that, according to him, ‘people just don’t appreciate anymore.’ The way he said it — with complete seriousness and the faintest hint of old-man grumbling in his voice — always made him seem older than he was. He was an old soul in so many ways, and it showed without him even realizing it. She loved that about him.
Now, the two of them sat in their usual booth with plates of food spread out in front of them. Eddie had ordered one of his typical hearty meals, a grilled chicken platter with roasted potatoes and vegetables, while she’d gone for a cheeseburger with fries and a small side salad alongside it. Leaning back against the booth, Eddie watched her with an easy smile, his fingers idly tapping against the condensation-slicked glass of his beer.
“So,” he drawled, “tell me something I don’t know.”
It was a game they’d played since early in their relationship — trading little facts or stories or details about themselves that they hadn’t yet shared with each other. The kind of thing that kept their relationship from ever feeling stagnant or predictable.
He tilted his head slightly, waiting, the dim lighting catching in the dark waves of his hair. His fingers stilled against the glass, and she could tell by the look in his eyes that he was genuinely interested in whatever she might say next, no matter how small or silly it might be.
She hummed thoughtfully around a bite of her burger, quickly wiping her hands on her napkin as she looked upward in thought. A blush crept onto her cheeks as her face scrunched slightly, the memory suddenly resurfacing.
“When I was younger,” she said after swallowing, “I accidentally ate a dog treat because I thought it was an Oreo.”
Eddie snorted into his beer, barely managing to swallow before breaking into laughter that made his shoulders shake. She facepalmed dramatically, elbow resting against the table as an embarrassed laugh slipped past her lips.
“It’s not funny,” she muttered, dragging out the last syllable despite the smile threatening to break through. Eddie wiped small tears of laughter from his eyes, breath still hitching between chuckles as he reached across the table to tug her hand away from her face.
“Oh, it absolutely is funny,” he countered warmly, thumb brushing over her knuckles. “But you can’t just drop that on me and not tell me if you didn’t realize it wasn’t a cookie halfway through chewing.”
Her eyes widened. “Oh jeez, no, I did,” she explained quickly. “The second I bit into it, I spit it right back out. But in my defense, the container it was in wasn’t the original packaging.”
Eddie grinned as he leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand, the gentle amusement in his expression making her embarrassment feel softer. “Okay, I need to know — how old were you? Five? Ten?”
She scrunched her face. “Like... eleven, I think.”
Eddie's grin widened even further, the faint scar above his eyebrow creasing as he shook his head in delighted disbelief, fingers still laced with hers.
“Eleven,” he repeated, smirking, “so right in that sweet spot where you're old enough to know better but young enough to still pull dumb shit. Christ, I would've paid good money to see that.”
She scoffed in mock offense and gently swatted at his hand. He laughed again, his hand dodging the half-hearted swipe before catching her wrist and pressing a quick kiss to her knuckles.
“Come on, angel,” he teased, voice softening as he studied her expression, “we've all had our moments. I once tried to microwave a frozen pizza still in the box because I thought the instructions meant to leave it in there.”
Her mouth dropped open as her eyebrows shot upward, a small snort escaping through her nose. “So… arson?”
Eddie groaned, running a hand over his face while she dissolved into giggles, his fingers spreading just enough to peek at her through them. “Yeah, yeah, laugh it up — smoke alarm went off, whole place smelled like burning cardboard for a week.”
She grabbed a fry and popped it into her mouth, laughing softly as she chewed. His eyes flickered over her face, lingering on the way the corner of her lips lifted upward as she ate. The warmth in his chest had nothing to do with the beer in his hand — just the easy comfort of nights like this, the way she always made even the simplest moments feel like something worth remembering. She found herself staring at him for a moment after that. The lazy smile resting on his lips, the dark curls falling around his face, his broad hand wrapped loosely around his beer glass. Sometimes she still couldn’t believe she got to love someone who looked at her the way Eddie did.
“I love you, you know that?” He spoke gently, squeezing her hand lightly. It definitely wasn't the first time he'd said it, but tonight it felt softer, somehow.
“Oh, I know,” she said matter-of-factly before reaching for another fry. He arched an eyebrow at her casual tone, the corner of his mouth quirking up as he traced idle patterns against her knuckles with his thumb.
“Yeah? You're just gonna leave me hanging like that?” His voice dropped into something teasing, yet tender.
She smiled at him lightly, sweet and knowing. “I love you, baby.”
His expression softened as he looked at her, thumb stilling against her skin as he leaned in slightly.
“Say it again,” he murmured, eyes glancing between hers like he was trying to memorize the moment.
“The ‘I love you,’ or the ‘baby’?” she asked softly, a playful note slipping into her voice. His smile was slow and effortless, the kind that made the corners of his eyes crinkle in a way she’d learned to trace with her fingertips on lazy Sunday mornings.
“Both,” he admitted, voice dipping lower as he tugged her hand closer, pressing another kiss to her fingers. She released his hand gently, giving his beard a soft tug.
“I love you, baby,” she repeated. His chest rose with a deep inhale, eyes fluttering shut for just a beat at the words before opening again with such warmth it could've melted the ice in her glass. A quiet chuckle escaped him as he leaned back against the booth, wiping his mouth with a napkin before nudging his cleaned plate aside — chicken gone, potatoes and veggies vanished, only faint sauce smears remaining.
“Damn right you do,” he said, stretching an arm along the back of the booth while his other hand lifted his glass to his lips to finish his beer.
One thing about Eddie, he always finished his meals.
Rolling her eyes with a smile, she wiped her hands clean before reaching into her purse for her phone, checking the time and any notifications. A second later, she casually flipped to the camera and aimed it toward the table, recording as she zoomed in on their plates — hers still holding a quarter of her burger and a few fries, while Eddie’s plate had been completely cleared. “Damn.”
The camera slowly panned up toward Eddie’s face.
Eddie’s expression was completely serious, dark eyes shifting between her and the camera before he slowly inhaled through his nose.
“Yeah… wait till you get home,” he said, his voice low and weighted, like he’d already mapped out exactly how that promise was going to play out. Her eyes betrayed her immediately, widening as she was left completely speechless. Without another word, she silently ended the video.
The second she lowered her phone, Eddie leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table with his fingers loosely laced together. The movement pulled the sleeves of his shirt tighter around his biceps, the muscle in his arms shifting noticeably beneath the fabric. A smug grin pulled at his mouth, eyes never leaving hers as he mumbled, “You’re lucky we’re in public.”
Her hand drifted up to the side of her neck, cheeks flushed pink as she tucked her phone away. “Well damn,” she muttered, fighting back a smile. “Check, please.”
Eddie laughed, the sound vibrating deep in his throat as he politely flagged down the waiter, fingers drumming against the tabletop in anticipation. The second the check landed between them, he snatched it up before she could blink, forearm flexing as he pulled his wallet from his back pocket with one smooth motion. The leather creaked softly as he flipped it open, fingers plucking out enough cash to cover their meal plus a generous tip. Her intrusive thoughts won the second she watched him slide the bills beneath his beer glass.
“You are so hot,” she mumbled before she could stop herself.
A crooked smile spread slowly across Eddie’s face at her comment, his eyebrows lifting just slightly like he’d been waiting all night for her to finally say it out loud. He slid his wallet back into his pocket with zero urgency, gaze focused on her like he knew exactly what he was doing to her right now — and planned on making it worse.
SUMMARY: Eddie’s girlfriend brings him lunch at work because he forgot it… again.
TAGS: fluff, established relationship, domestic intimacy, mechanic! Eddie, modern Hawkins AU, Eddie being disgustingly in love (bc he deserves it.), Eddie is in his early 30s.
Fem!Reader is in her late 20s, though unnamed/undescribed. <3
A/N: Taking a little pause from Lord Munson and dabbling in possibly my favorite version of Eddie: 31-year-old big, buff, bearded mechanic/gym guy metalhead Eddie Munson who works at Hawkins Auto and is hopelessly in love with his girlfriend.
Check out my masterlist for other works for this AU! ♥︎
Word Count: 2.1K
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
Eddie Munson worked at Hawkins Auto, a repair and body shop located about two miles from the heart of town. He’d started working there when he was sixteen, and even after everything Hawkins had gone through years later, the old garage remained one of the few steady things in his life. Over time, he’d slowly become the guy people trusted for just about anything. Oil changes, busted engines, strange noises nobody else could figure out — if something was wrong with your car, you brought it to Eddie. Somewhere along the way, he’d become more than just the mechanic at the shop.
After the old owner passed away years back, the garage had been left to Eddie without much hesitation, like everyone had already known it belonged to him long before the paperwork ever said so. These days, the place did well for itself — and so did he.
Eddie lived in a small house near the edge of Hawkins, far enough from the noise of town to feel private, but close enough that he could make it to the shop in under ten minutes. He shared the house with his girlfriend, who he’d been with for about three and half years, though they’d been living together for about seven months.
Living with Eddie meant getting used to little things: the sound of old metal music drifting softly from the bathroom in the mornings, grease stains on the kitchen hand towels no matter how many times they were washed, protein powder shoved beside the coffee maker.
It also meant finding his forgotten lunch sitting on the counter at least twice a week — that is, if he even remembered to make it at all.
Today had been one of those days where she noticed his empty lunchbox still sitting on the counter where he always left it, so she made him lunch and drove it to the shop herself.
She liked it though; being able to bring Eddie his lunch was an excuse for her to visit him at work. She loved seeing him in action, loved when she would sneak into the shop just to watch him work for a few quiet moments before he noticed her.
The way his pretty brown eyes narrowed in concentration as he worked, grease staining his fingers and forearms; the slight pout of his lips whenever he focused too hard, completely unaware he was doing it. There was something unfairly attractive about watching him move around the garage so naturally.
The small bell above the storefront door chimed softly as she stepped inside, the faint smell of motor oil lingering even in the front office air. Ray was already sitting behind the desk when she walked in — he’d been working alongside Eddie since he turned eighteen nearly four years ago, long enough now that seeing her there had become completely normal.
“Wow, haven't seen you in a long time,” Ray remarked with gentle sarcasm as he raised his eyebrows from behind the desk. She scrunched her nose in response, a soft, sarcastic laugh slipping through it. He reminded her a lot of an annoying younger brother: well-meaning, easy to love, and occasionally impossible not to roll her eyes at.
Ray glanced at the lunch bag in her right hand, messing with his dirty blonde hair. “Whatcha got for me in there?”
“Absolutely nothing,” she replied with a playful tone.
“Damn,” he sighed, shaking his head.
She gave him a dramatically disappointed look, brows pulling together tightly as her lips curved into a small pout. “Maybe next time.”
Ray gave her a knowing smile, jerking his head toward the garage behind him, “Ed’s in the back.”
Giving him a short nod of approval, she moved around the desk and toward the open garage quietly. Careful to keep her distance, she settled into her usual habit of watching him for a few moments.
Eddie was bent over the hood of an old Honda Civic when her eyes found him, immediately looking him over in his casual work uniform — dark work pants, scuffed boots, and a black shop t-shirt with the Hawkins Auto logo printed over one side of his chest.
The position had his forearms disappearing deep into the engine, leaving only glimpses of his thick upper arms visible beneath the sleeves of his shirt. The fabric of his shirt pulled tightly across his back every time he moved, the muscle beneath it shifting in a way she found deliciously distracting.
Eddie had been elbow-deep in the guts of the Civic for the last hour, trying to diagnose a stalling issue that had been giving him grief. His fingers tightened around the screwdriver in his hand as he carefully adjusted something, muttering to himself under his breath.
“Come on, you little shit.” He fiddled with the wiring, brow furrowing deeply when he couldn’t seem to get it just right. He didn’t notice her at first, and it took him about five minutes before he did. His head lifted instantly, eyes flickering up from beneath the hood of the car as he turned toward her.
There was a brief pause where he simply stared at her, lips curling into an easy grin as he leaned back against the car and wiped his grease-stained hands on the towel resting nearby on the edge of the hood.
“There’s my girl,” he crooned, laying the dirtied towel back in its place.
“Hi, my love,” she greeted with a smile, cheeks aching from how wide it had grown as she walked over and held out the lunch bag toward him. “You forgot your lunch. Shocker.”
Eddie’s grin deepened as he reached for the bag, though instead of taking it, his hand wrapped around her wrist and tugged her gently into his chest. A startled laugh escaped her as he chuckled softly, the scent of oil clinging to his clothes as his free arm slid around her waist.
“Huh,” he mused, leaning his hip against the car’s fender. “Almost like I’m forgettin’ on purpose.”
She laughed again, warmth spreading through her chest as his arms squeezed her a little tighter. Mischief flickered in his brown eyes when she looked up at him.
“Funny how that works,” he mumbled against her temple before pressing a tender kiss there.
“Ass,” she scoffed playfully, her free hand coming up to rest around his bicep.
“But you love me,” he teased, pressing another kiss to her forehead as he finally took the bag from her. Even then, he kept his arm wrapped around her waist, only pulling back enough to peer inside. “What’d you bring me, sweetheart?”
“The chicken, rice, and veggies I made last night,” she told him, opening the lunch bag while he still held it in his hand. “I also cut up some strawberries, and I packed that protein shake thing you like.”
“You’re a fuckin’ angel,” he groaned appreciatively, already opening the container and grabbing a strawberry before she could stop him.
“I know,” she shrugged, smiling. Eddie smiled back before jerking his head toward the small break room near the back of the garage.
“Hang out with me while I eat? I got about twenty before I gotta get back to this piece of shit.” He nudged the car’s tire with his boot for emphasis.
“Sure, baby,” she replied easily.
She loved calling him that. For all his size — for the broad shoulders, thick beard, and naturally intimidating look he carried without even trying — there was still something soft about him when it came to her. Something that made the name fit perfectly.
Eddie grinned at her response, tucking the lunch bag under his arm and wrapping his free hand around hers as he led her toward the break room. His fingers were rough against hers, calloused and warm as they slid between her own.
The break room wasn’t anything special — just a small, cluttered space with a microwave, mini fridge, and a single table shoved against the wall. The table was covered in old coffee stains and scattered receipts, but Eddie didn’t seem to care as he dropped into one of the chairs and pulled her down into his lap.
She laughed softly as Eddie wasted no time digging into his lunch, shoveling a forkful of chicken and rice into his mouth before she could even blink.
“Fuck, I was starving,” he admitted between bites, leaning his head back against the wall as he chewed. She smiled, reaching up to brush a stray grain of rice from his beard with her thumb.
“Damn slow down, you’re gonna choke,” she teased, though she couldn’t help the quiet satisfaction at how much he seemed to enjoy her cooking. Eddie smirked, catching her wrist and pressing a kiss to her palm before letting her go.
“Nah, I’m good,” he assured her, though he slowed down a little. “Just tastes better when you make it.”
She rolled her eyes playfully, leaning her head against his shoulder as he continued eating.
The shop smelled like oil and rubber, the faint hum of the overhead fan mixing with the distant sound of Ray talking to someone on the phone in the front office. Eddie’s arm curled around her waist, his thumb brushing absently against her hip as he ate. It was comfortable — domestic in a way that made her heart ache with fondness. She loved moments like these.
“How’s your day been?” he asked after a moment, popping another strawberry into his mouth.
“Good,” she answered honestly, twisting slightly to look up at him. “Quiet. I cleaned the kitchen, did some laundry, and then I noticed someone didn’t pack their lunch.”
Eddie grinned sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand.
“Yeah, yeah, I know. But if I didn’t forget, you wouldn’t come see me.” He winked, squeezing her hip lightly as he leaned in to press a quick kiss to her lips, tasting faintly of strawberries and the protein shake he’d already downed halfway. Her hands found his face, gently squishing his cheeks together between her palms.
“I see you every day. Literally.”
His laughter vibrated against her hands, deep and warm.
“Yeah, well,” he stole another kiss, keeping his face close to hers after pulling away. “Still like seein’ you in the middle of my day.” His fingers traced idle circles against her thigh where she sat across his lap, the roughness of his touch contrasting with the tenderness in his eyes.
“You're so cute,” she murmured.
Eddie’s grin widened at that, one hand sliding up to cradle the back of her head as he leaned in to bump his nose against hers. “Cute, huh?”
“Yes,” she pecked his lips once. “Very.”
Eddie hummed softly against her lips, chasing after them with playful persistence when she pulled away too soon. His free hand slipped into her hair as he kissed her properly this time — slow and warm in a way that immediately sent heat rushing to her cheeks.
The moment shattered when Ray’s voice cut through the garage from the front office, sharp and impatient.
“Eddie! Phone’s for you! Some lady says her sedan is making a ‘funny noise’ and wants to know if she should drive it in!”
A beat of silence.
“She says it sounds like... 'kachunk kachunk'?”
Eddie groaned against her lips, forehead resting against hers for one last lingering second before pulling away with obvious reluctance. “Jesus fuckin’ Christ,” he muttered, but there was humor in his exasperation as he squeezed her waist. “I’ll be there in a second!”
She laughed, quickly covering her mouth as a small snort escaped her nose. Eddie caught it instantly, his expression softening with unmistakable fondness, like he thought it was the cutest thing he’d ever heard.
“I’ll let you get back to work,” she said, absently packing up the containers and putting them back inside the lunch bag.
Eddie sighed dramatically, pressing one last kiss to her temple before slowly shifting her off his lap — though not without keeping his hand on her waist until she was steady on her feet before standing himself.
“C’mon, angel,” he grinned, nodding toward the garage door. “Walk me up front so I don’t get lost.”
Intertwining their hands, she grabbed his lunch bag and walked with him through the garage toward the front office, where Ray stood waiting with the phone held away from his ear and a clear this lady is insane look written across his face.
“Well, I’ll be going,” she said, giving Eddie’s hand one last squeeze before letting go. Eddie caught her wrist before she could walk away, lips already puckered expectantly. A faint smile crossed her face before she rose onto her toes slightly and gave him a quick kiss on the lips.
“I love you.”
“I love you,” he echoed.
Ray scrunched his face dramatically at the display, earning a light slap to the shoulder from Eddie. Rolling her eyes with a smile, she waved goodbye to both of them before heading out of the shop and driving back home.
