#stranger things fix it

[helpwhatsthis]

could I request smut of best friend Robin coming across photos of reader and Eddie sending one another nudes 😱 then later on reader and Robin sext?

eddies girl- r.b./e.m

thank you sm for requesting babes!

I changed it bc I am very picky abt my modern aus, but there are definitely still nudes and this is way better than sexting.

ignore the use of time period inaccurate toys!

disclaimer that there are no relations between eddie and robin! (if anyone tries to argue with me about robins sexuality, prepare to have a molotov cocktail thrown in your window ♡)

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robin had know she was fucked from the moment she saw you punch a russian in the face during summer of 85'.

she'd known she was even more fucked the moment she pulled open eddies nightstand in search of a song to save nancy.

before she could even move her eyes to the contents of the drawer, eddie had started screaming and running toward her. the tapes were forgotten from both of her hands when she gazed down to see god knows how many photos of one of her best friends in such... compromising positions.

if it hadn't been for steves screams to hurry up, and eddies pointed yet still terrified stare- she thinks she would have laughed from the shock of it all. because if she was a little more perverted (and a lot less rushed) it would have been like striking gold to her.

she can't deny to herself how many times she'd thought about the small glimpse she'd had. once everyone was safe, and eddie and max had been released from the hospital, it was all she had thought about for days. she'd barely left her room. every time her eyes closed, she saw it. saw you. tied up to your headboard, eddies hellfire shirt bunched up over your tits, and his hands pressing on your stomach. your head thrown back in ecstacy.

and with the sight came the questions. would you ever, in a million years or another lifetime let her touch you like that? what would you sound like? do want to fuck eddie as much as he talks about wanting to fuck you?

now her thighs are clenching together in the dusk surrounding the lake. she feels like a preteen boy, about to blow her load in her jeans while you moan along with joan jett to cherry bomb.

how could she not? your eyes are glassy and bloodshot, smoke falling from your nose. your black bathing suit leaves nothing of your body shape to the imagination. but most of all, even in the low light she can see the dark hickies on your skin.

"she's so fucking perfect, isn't she?" eddie muses softly, his knee bumping her own. guilt immediately fills her being when she looks back at him. even though his skin is covered in harsh scars, and there's a fear lurking in his eyes, he smiles as he watches you.

he loves you.

and you love him.

"to the ends of the earth, teddy" you had whispered in the back of steves car while begging him to hang on.

"i- I mean yeah, sure-" she stumbles on her words, sure shes been caught staring for too long.

"cool it, buckley." he smirks, turning his gaze to her. "I know you want to fuck my girlfriend, there's no reason to freak out."

"I don't!" she blurts, probably a little too loudly when you and steve turn back to look at her.

"shut up rob," he laughs, smacking her shoulder. "I know you have a shitty sleep schedule, and you have work tomorrow. so me and the succubus are gonna head home."

"dick" you grit, reaching up to slap his ass harshly as he stands.

why the fuck is he covering for her right now?

she's seen how possessive eddie can get, even before his escapades in an alternate dimension. since then, they'd only increased tenfold.

"we'll finish this conversation later." he murmurs, leaning down and feigning a kiss goodbye on the top of her head.

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"-and she's lovin' him with that body, I just know it. and he's holding her in his arms late-late at night-"

robin groans, throwing her head back against the headrest of steves passenger seat. "alright, sorry springfield. I can't handle you tonight."

she reaches to turn down the radio, causing steve to fake a moan of agony.

"shit, robin. is this y/n. again?" he asks, glancing at her pitifully.

"yes, again." she snaps. "it's like she knows exactly how to work her way into the most minute crevices of my brain" she explains exaggeratedly with her hands.

much to her annoyance, steve just chuckles.

"and eddie knows-" she looks at him, finally allowing her fear to show through. she knows that some point, eddie had threatened a guy within an inch of his life, all because he heard from someone who heard from someone else that the guy had a crush on you.

she did not feel like having eddie threaten to put a pipe bomb in her mailbox. or whatever deranged shit came out of his mouth.

"and how would he know?" steve asks skeptically.

because all I do is stare at her boobs,

or because I stole one of her shirts,

maybe even because sometimes I wake myself up moaning her name in my sleep.

"I don't know." she lies. straight through fucking teeth. "but he told me he knows."

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"alright, I'll be back in a few." you huff, grabbing eddies keys so that you could pick up steve and some take out. "love you, bubba" you hum, pressing a short kiss to eddies lips that makes robin painfully aware of being the third wheel.

"love you too." he smiles blissfully as he watches you walk out the door. it takes less than a second for him to turn back to her, cheshire grin upturning his lips. "let's get down to business-"

he wiggles his brows at her, causing her to roll her eyes. "and what would that be, edward?" she snaps, looking anywhere but his face. she knows that if she looks at him too long, she'll become a sobbing, apologizing mess.

"well, all three of us are off thursday." he shrugs. "and wayne is going out with some fishing buddies-" he smirks, biting his lip as he leans toward her.

"that means y/n and I are gonna have that new, big nda money house all to ourselves... unless of course you wanna come over?"

and she can see it vividly now, playing behind her eyelids. she's not stupid. she nows eddie fucked you on every surface of the new place after you'd bought it with your hush money.

it's a nice place, a really nice place actually. it's no harrington mansion, but you have eddie have a big plush bed on the second floor.

she wonders what it'd be like, to fuck you the king size bed you share with your boyfriend.

"and what would happen if I did come over?" she bites the bullet, looking skeptically at eddie. she almost wishes she hadn't when she sees the victorious look on eddies face.

"well y'know, it's not like I've put too much thought to it-" he laughs, eyes lost in thought as he absent-mindedly picks at the couch. "but you probably come in and find her tied to one of the kitchen chairs, wand buzzing against her puffy clit and begging someone to fill her up."

and she can almost hear it then, the loud buzzing and your whines for him.

no, for her.

"and of course I'd be mean, tell her no. and you'd get to play the hero, making her cum over and over on your pink cock."

there's a burning in her stomach, and she almost cries out when she clenches her thighs.

"god robin, she gets so wet for you. I make her tell me about how she wants your fingers inside and your tits in her face when im fucking her."

and she can't suppress it then, a soft moan pulling from her throat. she pulls her knees under her chin, peering up at him through teary eyes. he smiles, almost warmly as he claps a hand on her shoulder.

"so come over, or don't. s'up to you darlin'."

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her hands are shakey as she reaches to close the mirror on the visor, letting out a huff of anxiety.

"you're really gonna do this?" steve ask, pulling her out of her thoughts.

"I guess so, and if it's horrible I'll call you when you're on break and make you come pick me up." she shrugs, looking back out the window.

"It's not gonna be horrible, rob." steve states, even though he knows very well that his is definitely out of her comfort zone.

she's so lost in her own head that she barely notices when he stops the car in the driveway.

"oh god-" she murmurs softly, gazing at the front door.

"It's just eddie and y/n, you'll be okay." he promises, reaching out a squeezing her hand.

the walk to the door feels endless on her trembling legs. she almost can bring herself to knock when she finally reaches it. but she does.

"It's open!" she hears eddie call from inside.

before she even has the door all the way open, she hears you cry out.

"eddie, please." you beg, hands fisting your binds and hips trying to wiggle away from the vibrations. it's a fruitless effort, only adding stimulation to your swollen cunt.

your beautiful. it's a simple thought, and the first thing that occurs to her as she stares into the the living room.

she thinks that eddie must have the self control of a god, being able to write nerd shit in his notebook while you're tied up and jerking around like that right in front of him.

"god eddie, please make it stop." you pant, body slumping and pushing your clit into the toy harder.

he only smiles, reaching out and turning it up a setting. you practically scream, head falling back and making her knees feel weak.

"come torture her a bit, buckley." he smiles at her. "lose the clothes on the way." he hums, going back to his notebook.

and she's waited so long to see you like this that she obeys without a second thought, striping down to her underwear and sitting beside him on the couch.

from here, she can see all of you. you're chest is heaving so hard it makes your tits bounce. there's visible tremors running through your belly. and your cunt, fuck. it's leaking everywhere and your puffy clit is twitching against the head of the wand.

"r-robin-" you choke, voice broken. "please make it stop?" you you beg, tear filled eyes pleading at her.

"oh y/n." she hums, reaching out to wipe the tear tracks from your cheeks. you push into her touch, and jerk a second later when eddie flicks the handle of the wand.

"make her cum." he says, relaxing back into the couch with his arms behind his head.

"how?" she asks, not able to tear her gaze from your clenching hole.

he sits up wordlessly, reaching for the clasp of her bra. he stops, eyes asking for permission. she nods, and seconds later the material is falling from her chest.

the sound you make is strangled, wanting nothing more than to feel the hard buds of her nipples against your tongue.

"do whatever feels right?" eddie shrugs.

and so she does, standing from the couch and pulling down her panties. your whining, body keening toward hers as you watch her undress.

she can help herself, hands caressing your face and she guides it so that your chin rests on her sternum.

it almost feel natural as she moves her hands to the sides of her breasts, pushing them and effectively smashing you between them.

and she giggles, fucking giggles, as you sob into her skin.

"can I kiss her?" she asks shyly, looking over her shoulder at eddie.

"you can do whatever the fuck you want to her, robin" he grins.

the next thing you know, her mouth is on yours, her tongue running along yours. you don't even notice her moving, so consumed by her mouth. she drops on your lap, folds warm and wet against your legs as her hand wraps around your neck.

"f-fuck" you cry into her mouth when she squeezes slightly.

and then she's in a daze, hips rocking against your mound and causing you to thrust into the vibe.

you take her tit into your mouth, nearly biting at her nipple and making her moan.

"oh fuck, that's it y/n" she gasps, hands tugging your hairs.

"go on and cum for her, baby." eddie encourages, reaching out and squeezing you knee.

it's euphoria as you let go. cunt clenching and feeling your pulse everywhere. your deaf to your owns screams of pleasure, deaf to both of their praising words. it's just wave after wave of bliss.

when you come to, the wand is clicked off. your head is resting on robins shoulder and her hands are rubbing soothing circles on your back.

"come on, princess. buckley isn't done with you yet." he hums, beginning to untie you.

"your getting payback for that teasing." you threaten, making robin laugh.

"oh yeah, and how is that?" he smirks.

"when is steves next day off?" you smile devilishly up at robin.

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[me-gongoga]

ɴᴇᴠᴇʀ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ɪ ᴇᴠᴇʀ | ᴇᴅᴅɪᴇ ᴍᴜɴꜱᴏɴ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

Summary: back home in Hawkins for spring break, you get roped into a game of 'never have i ever' by your friends. but the night takes a turn when eddie accidentally stumbles upon a secret you've been keeping for months

Pairing: eddie munson x reader (gender neutral)

Word count: 4.2k

Tags: aged-up characters (early 20s). fluff/angst, friends to lovers, alcohol use/drug ref, happy ending, no use of y/n

It’s tradition. Every break from college, you head home to Hawkins and meet up with your old crew. Not everyone always makes it, but whatever rag-tag group gets scrounged together is usually more than enough. With graduation on the horizon, you’re happy to see anyone in Hawkins these days.

Tonight, it’s almost a full house, schedules and school breaks aligning. Seven of you are cramped around the old coffee table in Nancy’s basement, laughter abundant and drinks in hand.

Steve proposes ‘Never Have I Ever’ after getting absolutely tossed at darts three times in a row by Robin. And Nancy—three deep in the same room with two of her exes—more than hastily produces a handle of vodka to reward each round’s ‘winner’.

Jonathon and Steve sit at opposite ends of the table, while three girls pile onto the couch—Vickie getting sandwiched between Nancy and Robin. Across from them, you’re sunk happily into an old bean bag while Eddie sits beside you, already asserting he’ll be the champion of the game.

You snort at his proclamation and try to disguise it with a sip of your drink. Eddie catches you anyhow and delivers a swift shove to your shoulder that’s enough to slosh your beer. You glare at him as you wipe up the mess on your mouth, but Eddie only grins back and soon you find yourself smiling too.   

He’s the one person who makes you promises and always delivers.

Eddie picks you up from the train station every time you come home, your favorite from the Hawkins Diner in hand. And while you stuff your face, he regales you with the latest drama from his tattoo apprenticeship and shares weird anecdotes about the more questionable pieces he’s worked on. Sometimes you burn whole days of break just sitting in his trailer and catching up, cross-legged on the floor of his room while he aimlessly plucks chords on his guitar. And sure, you call him while away at school, but nothing compares to actually being at his side and seeing the crinkle in his eyes when he laughs at your jokes. It reignites the warmth that you work so hard to keep contained while away. A heat that’s burning in your chest as you sit beside him tonight.

The first couple rounds of the game are quick and dirty—everyone getting their bottom-of-the-barrel pulls out. The third round is where things actually start to pick up and the admittances get odd.

“You gotta be kidding me, Vickie,” Eddie exclaims, putting down another finger. “You’ve never smoked a cigarette?”

She only shrugs, freckles dotting her dimpled expression. "I don’t like tobacco. Weed on the other hand…”

“Cheers to that,” Jonathon says, raising his beer can.

Eddie hurriedly grabs his own to join.

“Everyone still in?” Robin checks, eyes darting across the group.

Eddie clicks his tongue, voice all too smug as he speaks. “Already down to two again.”

“Yeah, well I’m right there with ‘ya, Munson,” Steve counters, waving his peace-sign count at Eddie.

You settle nice and low in your bean bag, flaunting your index finger. “Better hurry it up, boys. I’m already at one. I can pretty much hear that room-temperature Smirnoff calling my name.”

“You guys know it’s not exactly impressive to win, right?” Robin asks, looking skeptically between the three of you.

Nancy shrugs and crosses her legs with a flourish. “Let them duke it out if they want. I’m still sitting pretty with four fingers.”

“Thanks for the reminder, Nancy,” you say with a nod. “Because, never have I ever, shot a gun.”

The curly-haired woman scowls at you, putting down a finger. “That was uncalled for.”

“Oh, I think it was called for,” Steve argues, down to a single finger now as well. “I mean really, Nance, you should probably put down your whole hand for that one.”

Nancy only waves him off and takes another sip of her drink.

“You’ve tied us all up,” Eddie says to you, a devilish grin spreading across his face. “Unfortunately, doesn’t look like I’ll get to win this round.”

“I don’t like where this is going,” Vickie mutters, her eyes narrowing at Eddie.  

“Never have I ever,” Eddie says, pausing to give the room a good, long look. “Kissed anyone who’s here tonight.”

And for an amazingly elongated moment, the room stills into a stunned silence—eyes wide and mouths agape. But when the discourse descends, you can only sit in shock.

At first, it’s just a rabble of frustration that breaks out—Eddie still looking smug as hell with himself in his old folding chair as Nancy shakes her head and Robin shares a pointed look with Vickie. But then Steve’s voice cuts above the din, everyone else falling in line.

“He still doesn’t know?” The brunette asks, looking directly at you. “I thought you were going to tell him!”

“What the hell are you on about, Harrington?” Eddie complains, eyes darting between you and Steve. 

Jonathon groans and runs his hands over his face. “This is painful.”   

“I told you he just didn’t remember,” Robin whisper-yells all-too-loudly from the couch as she waggles her eyebrows in your direction. “I told you!”

Eddie shakes his head, looking incredulously around the table, before settling back on you. “Remember what? What the fuck are we talking about?”

You’d give anything in this instant for the bean bag to suck you up whole and eject you into nothingness. Hell, you’d even stick it out in the Upside Down if it meant you could avoid this conversation. There’s a reason you haven’t brought it up before. Of course, you’ve thought about it—tried even, to tell Eddie. But that was easier said than done. And now your own cowardice had backed you into a corner.

“We made out on New Year’s Eve,” you spit out, before anyone else can describe it more… creatively.

Eddie’s face goes pale, dark eyes blinking down at you. “W-what? No we didn’t. Why would we—"

“Dude, we all saw it,” Steve cuts in, running a hand through his hair. “You had your tongue shoved so far down their throat that even I was impressed.”

“Gross, Steve,” Robin and Nancy chide in unison.

“What? We were all thinking it!”

You clear your throat. “You were blackout, Eddie. I mean, we were all sloshed.”

He looks at you, mouth agape as his eyes trail down to your lips. The beer can in his hand crinkles under his grip as you see his Adam’s apple bob against his throat.

You still remember Eddie’s lips colliding against your own—the memory locked away in your mind like an a painting in a vault. Midnight. It was dim lights and streamers and loud music and unbridled joy and warmth and happiness. It was Eddie picking you up and swinging you around, pinning you up against a wall, and kissing you like his life depended on it. It was you holding onto him with all the fervor you’d bottled up since high school and giggling like a teenager as he whispered things in your ear.

Like all beautiful moments—it was fleeting. An hour later, you were holding back his hair in the bathroom as he threw up every Jell-O shot Nance had handed him. And, when you woke up beside each other on the floor of Steve’s living room the next day, Eddie didn’t even remember the clock striking 12. No, he didn’t remember any of it at all.

Or maybe—just maybe—he didn’t want to.

And that was not something you could handle confronting.

So, you asked the others to drop it—to pretend it didn’t happen. Told them you’d take care of it eventually. Took the photo Jonathon developed of you two and buried it in a box in your bedroom.

You wonder what exactly Eddie sees as he looks at you now. Disappointment? Disgust? You tear your gaze away with a nervous smile, not wanting to dive any deeper.

“Welp, guess, we’re gonna need more glasses,” Nancy thankfully announces, digging herself out of the couch and skuttling over to an old cupboard.

“Are we counting that? Really?” Jonathon complains.

“I mean, why not?” Robin asks with a shrug. “Guy clearly doesn’t remember kissing this hottie, so he’s not exactly lying. I say his bad memory earns him and everyone else a reward from the Wheeler’s liquor cabinet.”

Steve laughs at that, leaning over to slap Eddie on the thigh. “Looks like you get to ‘win’ after all, Munson.”  

“Shit,” Eddie finally mumbles, still sounding a bit dumbstruck. “Guess it’s only fair.”  

Nancy dumps an eclectic collection of glasses on the table, quickly pouring alcohol into each one and handing them out.

“Here, here,” Eddie says, raising his shot to the other ‘winners’. “To making out with your friends.”

You raise your own, catching his eyes again as you clink glasses. “Here, here.”

And then, like a weight off your chest, the night just… keeps going. More drinks, more games, more laughter. And Eddie—seemingly—isn’t even acting differently towards you. Things are normal. And normal is good.

Eventually, the evening starts to draw to a close. Vickie and Robin are passed out, tangled together on the couch, while Nancy sits on the floor between Steve and Jonathon—the beginnings of what has to be a ‘will they, won’t they’ saga playing out.

When you announce your departure, Eddie is quick to join you.

The cool night air feels good in your lungs after sitting for so long in a musty basement. Eddie marches past you down the driveway, taking a dramatic stretch and revealing a dark trail of hair down his midriff. You avert your eyes, trying to take casual interest in the gardening equipment scattered in the lawn.

“So,” he begins. “Did you still wanna come over? Watch a movie or something?”

You rattle the backpack slung over your shoulder; polyester material plastered with patches he’s given you over the years. “Didn’t bring a bag for nothing, Eds.”

“Yeah, yeah, alright,” Eddie mutters as you approach him, all too casually snatching the backpack from you. “Let’s go, smart ass.”

You smile and begin the tipsy trek towards Eddie’s trailer. He pulls out his cigarettes, offering them to you first as he always does.

You click your tongue and slip one from the pack. “Vickie would be appalled.”

Eddie chuckles, closing the gap between the two of you to lend a light, his hand cupping the flame in the breeze. You’ve always found him handsome, but when he’s up close and personal like this, fire in his eyes, it feels like you could drown in his good looks, and it would be a welcome death.

“Thanks,” you murmur, taking a long drag, as he pulls away.

“You got it,” Eddie mutters through his teeth, lighting his own.

The two of you walk in comfortable silence down the usual route, enjoying the soft crunch of concrete and gravel beneath your boots. Even with the full moon hanging overhead in a clear night sky, you’re thankful not to be stumbling home alone in the dark. Since experiencing the Upside Down together, Eddie always went out of his way to get you home safe or offer you a place to stay. At first you thought maybe it was just safety in solidarity. But now it was familiar. Comforting.

“So,” he says, voice raspy and sudden. “Can we talk about the five-ton Oliphaunt in the room?”

You swallow hard and decide to play dumb. “What do you mean?”

“Oh, I don’t know, maybe the fact that we, uh,” Eddie clears his throat. “Kissed, and I don’t even remember?”  

You chuckle, trying to ease the tension in his voice despite your own discomfort. “Sure, if you want. But there’s not much else to say. We were just trashed.”

“Yeah, but how did we even get there? Us?” He says motioning between the two of you. “I mean, come on, we’re— we’re just—"

“Friends,” you say, finishing the sentiment for him, the word bitter on your tongue.

“Right,” he mutters back, smoke billowing from pursed lips.

“I dunno,” you admit honestly. “Too much to drink, probably. Besides, Eddie, if I had known how gone you were, I wouldn’t have agreed to it.”

“Agreed?” Eddie says, attention piqued. “So, what—I asked you to kiss me? And you said yes?”

You chew your lip, shoving your hands into the too-tight pockets of your worn-out jeans. “I mean, it was New Years, y’know? You probably just wanted someone to kiss at midnight. Everyone does it.”

Eddie scoffs. “Right, because if there’s one thing about me, it’s that I love to follow the crowd.”

You only shrug, clueless on how to respond when you barely have answers yourself.  

Silence falls between the two of you, relief slumping into your shoulders as Eddie’s barrage of questions seems to subside. You kick yourself for admitting you chose to kiss him—but at least it wasn’t entirely strange.

You and Eddie had admitted to finding each other attractive on more than one occasion in the past. Why deny such obvious truths? You had both simply agreed that you were most definitely not romantically compatible.

Though you never hashed out the details on why that was.

“So,” Eddie grumbles, voice like sand paper in the quiet. “Was it bad or something then?”

“Huh?”

“The kiss, idiot,” he says, swinging the bag into your shoulder. “Is that why you never told me about it?”

You shake your head, heart palpitating at the memory of Eddie pressed against you. “No, nothing like that.”

“Then why hide it from me?” Eddie asks, rasp edging into his voice again. You can feel his dark eyes on your profile. “Seems like you went through a lot of effort to keep it under wraps.”

His words sound almost accusatory. Suddenly you’re scrambling for something to offer him—anything other than the truth, really.

You drop your cigarette and stomp it out, watching as the bud smolders to nothing on the ground. “I didn’t want to embarrass you.”

It takes a second, but laughter erupts from his chest, carrying into the night with an ominous echo. “Right, like you’d ever pass up the chance to hold something over my head.”

That’s true enough—it was part of how your friendship operated. One time he admitted to having a wet dream about the bartender at the Hideout, and you had used it to blackmail him into free drinks for half a year. Eddie gave as good as he got, of course. He knew you had used the Arcade’s backroom to hook up with more than a few people—some more questionable than others—and he had Keith on speed dial should you ever not supply him with free tokens during his visits. All of that was good fun. Platonic.

But New Year’s Eve… the kiss… that mean too much to you just to be played as a gag.

Exasperation grips your voice. “I don’t know what to tell you.”

You really don’t. And maybe Eddie senses that because he doesn’t respond.

It’s quiet as you pace on together, only the soft buzz of Hawkins’ electrical lines filling the empty void, unsettling and cerebral in your ears. It almost makes your body itch.

You’re thankful when Eddie speaks again, even if his tone is surprisingly somber.

“I think I get it.”

Your heart sinks into the depths of your chest. “You… get it?”

You watch the mass of brunette curls bob as he nods slowly.  “You’re ashamed that you made out with me, right?”

His voice is so serious it ties your stomach in knots and stops you in your tracks. He was so painfully, awfully wrong.

“I mean, I can’t say I blame you,” he continues. “Poor, directionless, loser that I am. Just good-for-nothing Eddie Munson. Who would wanna be caught dead kissing me?”

“Don’t say that,” you hiss at him, hands balling into fists. “It’s not true. Not fucking true at all.”

He pauses his stride and turns, chest rising and falling steadily as he stares at you in the night. “I’m just kidding.”

“Are you?”

Eddie runs both hands through his hair and shakes his head before flicking his cig to the ground. “Forget I said anything, okay? Let’s just hurry up and get back to my place.”

“No,” you reply, marching up and attempting to rend your bag from his shoulder. “I’m going home.”

But he only tightens his grip on your backpack, eyes meeting as you pull against him. “Please don’t.”

You scowl at him and give the bag another strong tug.

“I’m sorry, okay?” Eddie stutters, grabbing your wrist. “Now will you please stop trying to rip my shoulder off?”

You want to bottle up the frustration and anger at his careless words and hurl it back at him. But the stubble on his jaw, the scent of his aftershave, the look in his eyes—it’s too intoxicating. Whether he’s acting insufferable or not.

“Fine.” You let go of the bag and Eddie releases his grip in turn though the heat of his hand lingers unwarrantedly on your skin.

You’re supposed to move—supposed keep stomping back to his trailer. But instead, you just find yourself tethered to the asphalt, unable to tear yourself away.

Eddie stares back at you, still and expectant in the night.

Then words are tumbling so quickly from your lips, you hardly hear yourself speak.

“I was too scared.”

He blinks at you, dark eyelashes fluttering beneath loose curls. “Scared?”

“That’s why I never brought it up, Eddie,” you mutter, heart pounding in your ears. “I thought maybe you did remember kissing me and just... didn’t want to.”

His eyes widen, plush lips parting. “Why would I ever want to forget that?”

You shrug, boozy uncertainty welling in your eyes despite your efforts to fight it off. “Because it was me, Eddie. It was me, and not some hot bombshell you could brag about making out with. It was just me. And I’m—” 

“Perfect?”

Your face scrunches at the word. “Don’t make fun of me.”

But he seems to only find humor in your disgruntled expression, his face alit with laughter in the dark. “For someone so smart, you really are damn dense sometimes.”

Before you can protest his comment, Eddie’s pulling you against his chest, your face colliding with the denim of his jacket, musky scent of cologne and shampoo flooding any sense of reasonable thought from your mind. Strong arms slide over your shoulders and snake around your neck as you feel him rest his head atop your own.

“What I said earlier—I’m scared too.” Eddie confesses, a rasp to his voice. “Scared that once you graduate from that fancy-pants college, you’ll get some cool big-kid job that’ll take you far away from Indiana and you’ll forget all about little shithole Hawkins. And... forget about me.”

His admission hits you like a bolt of lightning.

Eddie is the only consistent in your life. Rain or shine, hell or highwater—he’s always there. So how could he think himself anything close to a footnote in your story?

“Never,” you mumble, relaxing into Eddie’s chest. You wrap your arms snug around his waist, trying to impart every bit of your heart with one embrace. “How could I ever forget such a sloppy kisser?”

Eddie cackles unexpectedly, his chest reverberating pitched tones against your head. “Oh, come on. You’ve gotta give me another shot.”

Your heart flutters at his words. “Yeah?”

He relaxes his grip, creating just enough space to greet you with his deep, chocolate eyes. The corners of his mouth twitch into a smile as he stares down at you. “I mean, I can’t say I’m totally sober, and it’s not New Years, so I really have no excuse…”

“But?”

“But,” he repeats back. “I’d be lying if I said I didn’t wanna kiss you right now.”

Your eyes wander to his lips—the very same that you’ve fantasized about so frequently and experienced only once. And now, standing under the flickering, orange streetlamps of Hawkins, he was offering them to you again.

“You’re sure?” You ask.

Eddie nods. “Listen, I don’t know what exactly got into me that night—”

“Wheeler’s Jell-O shots.”  

He cringes at the word, sticking out his tongue in mock disgust. “Ugh, that’s right. I still can’t even look at anything close to Jell-O.”

You giggle at his perturbed expression. “I know. You nearly fainted when Dustin made us fight a gelatinous cube in that one-shot yesterday.”

He shakes out his head like a wet dog, wringing more laughter from your chest.

“What I was trying to say—before you so rudely reminded me of my gelatin-aversion,” Eddie says with a pointed glance. “Is that I’m glad that some part of me worked up the nerve to do what I’ve spent years contemplating.”  

“You mean throwing up in Steve’s pool?”

“Okay, come on,” Eddie complains, rolling his eyes. “I’m trying to do this whole, romantic-ish situation here and you are just fucking t-boning it at every turn.” 

You’re smiling like a maniac now, starry-eyed and hopeful. “Sorry, sorry—go ahead.”

But Eddie just shakes his head, planting a warm, calloused hand under your jaw. “Nope. I’m just gonna kiss you before you say anything else to ruin it.”

And though you try to retort one final time, Eddie’s reflexes are too fast for you to counter. In a split-second, his mouth is pressed up against your own. He pulls you flush against his hips, encouraging collision as your fingers wind through his hair. His lips are as soft as you remember, but this time they seem intent on savoring every inch of your flesh, dangerously disarming as they elicit moans from your throat.

Your sounds only entice him further. He nibbles at your lower lip and hums with satisfaction as your mouth parts for him, vodka and tobacco crashing across your tongue as he eagerly explores you. The taste of him conceives a delirium in your mind like no drug you’ve ever consumed, thoughts drifting away one by one. He’s warm and perfect and good—so fucking good.

There’s purpose as Eddie holds you—kisses you­­—for the first real time. The happiness is overwhelming, tears threatening to spill from your eyes as Eddie brands you with the heat of each kiss. Your knees quiver under the elation, all of it nearly too much to handle.

As if sensing your imminent collapse, Eddie lifts you up into his arms, your legs wrapping naturally around his waist. You squeal out of sheer surprise, his lips curving into a smile against your own. He gives you a gentle spin to provoke more laughter-hiccupped kisses, his mouth trailing to your jaw and down your neck, his stubble tickling your skin with each peck.

You open your eyes as he starts to slow, watching him intently as he draws back, hunger still hanging in his eyes. He carefully returns you to the ground.

For a moment, you just stare at each other in silence, the buzz of the power cables now but a peaceful ambiance.

“Shit,” is all he manages to say, lips still plump from your attention. His arms are immovably hooked onto your hips.

“That bad?” You tease, struggling to catch your breath, heat still consuming your chest.

Eddie shakes his head, disheveled hair bouncing as he beams at you. “Seriously not sure how I could ever forget something like that. Wow, babe.”

“Yeah well,” you mutter, thoughts dazed by his affectionate words. “Don’t jinx it. I… can’t handle going through that again.”  

Eddie’s expression falters as he studies you, brow creasing. “I’m sorry. God, if I had remembered—well, I would have done a lot of stuff different.”

“I should have just told you—I should have known that you wouldn’t… it doesn’t matter. I’m just glad we’re here now.”

“Tell me about it,” he says, squeezing your waist.

“You better remember in the morning this time, Eds,” you threaten, poking him in the chest.

Eddie smiles and drops dramatically to one knee, crossing an arm over his chest with all the ceremony of a squire about to be knighted at the Ren Faire. He clears his throat before reciting what seems like a well-rehearsed proclamation.  “I, Eddie ‘The Freak’ Munson, hereby pledge that from this moment forward, I will never—fucking ever—forget anything when it comes to us. So help me, Lolth.”

In return, you raise your arms up to the sky. “Praise be to our Demon Queen of the Abyss!”

Eddie laughs and stands back up, grabbing you by the waist and spinning you around once more. “God, I fucking love you.”  

“Yeah?” You ask, starry-eyed in his arms.

He nods, folding ring-adorned fingers around your hand and planting a kiss just inside your wrist. “Yeah. And you?”

You smile at him. “Never have I ever loved anyone more than you, Eddie Munson.”

[shandy-and-champagne]

Season 5 fixit (in advance :’))

improvement i think :)

[the-anastasia]

My favourite scene in the Stranger Things finale is when Steve, Robin, and Nancy find Dustin with a passed out Eddie in the upside down and help get him to a hospital. Then they fake Eddie’s death so he can get away from the town witch hunt until they can clear his name.

[luveline]

What about reader doing eddie’s makeup in the love bites au?

Love your work! <3

thank you for your request! (loosely inspired by that scene in how to lose a guy in 10 days!!) love bites au / vampire eddie ♥︎ fem!reader suggestive content

If there's someone Eddie dislikes more than Blondie, it's Carly Simm. Where Blondie hasn't ever personally done anything to Eddie besides existing as a band, Carly Simm is similarly innocent. Her only crime is writing catchy music that you can't get enough of. 

You'd discovered her a week or two ago on the radio, and you'd begged Eddie to turn it up. He loves seeing you happy, and while it isn't his jam he'd happily complied. Same reason he'd bought you the tape. 

He regrets it now, sitting in your bed with a lapful of your thighs, your hands tucking hair behind his ears in perfect sync as you hum The Carter Family for the hundredth time today. 

"I'm not good," you remind him. 

"Sure you are," he reassures, hands slowly climbing the hills of your hips. He slips one under your shirt to squeeze along your back, stopping flat-palmed at the small of it. "I'm not bothering you, am I?" 

"You can touch me as much as you want." 

Your confusion prompts a quick explanation, "I meant, I won't distract you?" 

"Maybe a little." You smile softly. "We don't have anywhere to be."  

You and Eddie only have to be here and now, wasting time together. Spending it together. And truthfully this had been Eddie's idea anyways. 

You tap the pads of your fingers to Eddie's face and smile at his tacky skin. "Perfect." 

Your methods are dubious, your first course of action is to mix a cream that boasts colour changing technology with a dollop of moisturiser. He closes his eyes and you dot it over his forehead, his cheeks, his chin. You're more delicate near his nose, fingertips precise, the smallest bit of product rubbed into his nose. Next comes the patting, your fingers working over his face. 

"What are you doing?" 

"Trying to get rid of streaks." You sit back. Eddie lets his arms stretch to keep you. "Looking good, handsome." 

"Thank you." 

You move onto eyeshadow next. You've brought a colourful palette that you bought at the fancy department store before you'd met him, plastic covering still intact. When he'd asked, you'd only said, "I knew I had to save it for something special," like it wasn't the most romantic thing he'd ever heard. 

You open the eyeshadow compact and ask Eddie to choose a colour. He goes for the dark, dark navy because there's no black, and you tell him to close his eyes. You swipe your fingers over his eyelid more gently than you need to. 

Eddie can hear everything; your heart beating regularly despite his handsy grasp on your hips, your breathing, and the heat that kisses his lips with each exhale, every fraction of sound from the tape deck as it switches to the next song. 

"Oh, god, not this one again," he groans. 

You start to sway with the music, and then your favourite part comes on and he's expecting it, your hands on his cheeks, fingers careful not to smudge shadow over his temples. You sing lightly, sweetly, clumsy but he wouldn't expect anything less — you aren't the kind of girl who worries about sounding good, and you never have been. "And all the girls dreamed that they'd be your partner, they'd be your partner," you sing, pausing to laugh, meeting his eyes with nothing but mirth. "You're so vain, you probably think this song is about you! You're so vain, I'll bet you think this song is-" 

He kisses you by accident. Swears. The look in your eyes had been too much to ignore any longer, that playful teasing, the funny quirk of your mouth as you'd warbled through it. He'd needed to kiss you if only to feel you smiling. 

"Never buying you music ever again," he mumbles against you. 

You pull back to steal the lead, kissing him quickly, once then twice before you lean back. "You like this song." 

"No, I like watching you when you listen to it. Big difference." 

You raise your eyebrows and then use your thumbs to force his up too. "We're confused," you say. 

His pulse starts to rise. He's become much more acquainted with the physical effects of love since his unfortunate transformation. Every time he thinks he's found the bottom of the well of his affection, you do something that makes his heart skip and he has to reassess. 

"You know when you miss the last step?"

You gesture for him to close his eyes. "Like, when you trip?" 

"Just miss it completely. Overshot." 

Your finger starts to dab the opposite eye. "Mm," you murmur, concentration robbing your voice. He waits for you to finish your pulling motion and squeezes you, code for you've forgotten the conversation. 

"I think so," you say eventually. 

He opens his eyes. You're looking at the soft glittery colour pensively. 

"You know how it makes your stomach flip? Do you think there's a good version of that?" 

"Like finding a step where you weren't expecting one?" 

"Like, the sudden rush of a good feeling. Molly for a split-second." 

"I've never tried molly." 

"And you won't," he says, mostly joking. 

You take some of the glitter onto your finger and smooth it under his eyes. He looks up at the ceiling and fights the urge to blink as you get close to his waterline. He trusts you not to poke his eyes out.  

Your pulse spikes suddenly. 

He drops his chin back down. "What?" 

Worry gives to amusement when he sees your expression. It's shy (or as shy as you get), which means you're thinking about something very specific. 

"You know when we're-" 

"Hugging?" 

You beam. "Yeah, definitely. And you're all sweaty, and you push your face into my neck?" 

Eddie has the good graces to feel flustered. "Yeah." 

"Sometimes I think you're gonna bite me. And I get that feeling. 'The sudden rush of a good feeling,'" you confide, hands playing in the hair at the back of his neck. He shudders when you start to scratch his scalp, your smile a short fall from salacious. 

Eddie probably wouldn't bite you. He's too worried you'll end up in the same boat as him, a blood-sucker who can't get excited without little knife points slotting out of his gums. 

Speaking of. 

"Fuck," he mutters. He'd been doing a spectacular job at keeping his fangs in, especially because he's young and you're literally his girlfriend and you're in his lap moving around. They snap into place over his regular canines and blood fills his mouth, gums sliced open.

You wince when he winces. "Sorry, baby." 

It's definitely your fault but also he can't really blame you. This is normal flirting between couples, and he does it to himself most the time. It's actually extremely fucking annoying, to be lying in bed at night by himself, and all he wants to do is think about you when boom, there's blood running down his chin.

"You should be," he says. "You suck. Are we almost done?" 

"We're done," you say, climbing off of his lap to grab your handheld mirror. "Lookit." 

You've actually done a great job. He looks awesome, smokey and sparkly like a glam metal rockstar. 

"Flash the fangs," you command. 

He flashes the fangs. You put both hands out in front of you and make a pleased sound. He intertwines your fingers. 

"You're so cool. You look cool. Can I take a photo?" 

"Just for you?" 

"Especially for me." 

He lets you take a polaroid, smiling with teeth, hair pushed behind one ear. He looks good. A little pale, 'cause he's a week away from a blood sate and his body is taking it hard as it always does, but that's not a bad thing. He'd fit right in at a KISS concert. 

You tug the photo out of his hand. "Just for me, you said." 

He can't even be mad. 

[babygirlharrington]

Steddie Fic Rec #1

Eddie Munson The Silvertongue - Cherrycolatree @rasberrycolapop

Summary: The events of the last few years of his life have left Steve Harrington a wreck. He feels as alone in life as he imagines he would in death. Things begin to change after he’s rescued from a drunken stupor by sort-of-friend Eddie Munson.

Explicit, WIP. TW for alcohol abuse. Eddie helps Steve find healthier coping mechanisms for his trauma.

Wasteland, Baby! - coloredlove8 @goblinthefrog

Summary: “You can't see how you look at him." "How do I look at him?" He whispered. Her right thumb swiped against the sensitive skin under his eye, "Like you looked at me."

Explicit, Complete. Sexy, consensual S&M between bros.

Feel this Burning, Love of Mine - @judasofsuburbia

Summary: Vecna is defeated. Steve Harrington stays in the hospital to be with Eddie Munson, despite everyone's confusion, including his own. After Eddie gets released, he has his first night terrors and immediately calls Steve for help. How can Steve resist?

Explicit, WIP. Steve takes care of Eddie following the events of S4V2. A fix-it, canon divergent. 

When There's Still So Many Things To Say Unsaid - BlackUnicorn

Summary: Steve and Eddie's relationship as seen through the eyes of their family.

Not rated, Complete. What it says on the tin. Eddie & Steve’s blossoming relationship as told by their found family. 

It struck me deep (it brought me to my knees) - Gorgeousgreymatter @gorgeousgreymatter-x

Summary: It’s not even the nightmares most of the time. At this point, Steve would totally settle for some up close and personal time in his brainpan with the Upside Down if it meant he could actually fucking sleep.

Mature, WIP.  Eddie and Steve help each other with their night terrors through totally platonic bed sharing.

Put My Heart at Ease - Chaoticbitch033

Summary: Eddie is having trouble sleeping because of his nightmares. Steve tries to help, and gets more than he bargained for.

Not Rated, Complete. Another plausible fix-it. Hurt/comfort.

[littlestoneinspace]

Darling.

[mirkwoodmunson]

uncle wayne

wayne munson & gn!reader interaction

956 words

wayne munson is very much the strong/silent type, you wonder how he’s doing after everything that happened with his nephew —your boyfriend — eddie. one night he decides to tell you.

contains: wayne munson, vol2 rewrite/fixit, comfort, established relationship w/ eddie, light angst, no pronouns (if i slipped up at all please let me know!) tw: alcohol, smoking, cursing a/n: i was brushing my teeth and just got real sad over how nice wayne comes across despite being presented as kind of a gruff guy. he needs to be checked in on i think 🫶 disc: i do not give permission to share my content outside of tumblr; please reblog and do not repost; my content (even sfw) is not meant for minors; i am not responsible for the media you consume online

Nights in the mobile village were so calm. Sure, there was the occasional party going on, sometimes the neighbors would argue, but for the most part it was a pretty peaceful little area. Tonight the early Summer sun was just setting, reluctant to hide behind the horizon just yet, it still had work to do here; light to shine. But it was growing dark, the street lights turned on now, people lighting fires in their yards and camping out around them in lawn chairs. Shooting the shit.

That’s what you were doing with Wayne Munson, just shooting the shit. Well as best you could with such a tight-lipped man. Eddie was still getting better, still tired and easily worn out, so he had decided to go to bed early. He’d bade you goodnight with a peck to your forehead, then a playful ruffle of your hair, a tight squeeze of the hand with his uncle before heading inside with a yawn.

Wayne lit a cigarette as you gently shook Eddie’s leftover can of beer, tossing back the little left so as not to waste it before chucking it into the recycling bin outside the porch. Wayne passes you the cigarette between his thumb and index finger without looking at you, smoke slithering through a hole in his lips. He hadn’t made that gesture before, offering a smoke, but then again, you never really hung out one on one with Wayne before. Him passing you his cigarette felt like you’d really been accepted by him, not that you worried about it, but sometimes he could be so quiet and unreadable you’d have the nervous thought that your near-constant presence in his trailer annoyed him from time to time.

You glance between him and the cigarette a few times before taking it, pulling some smoke and then passing it back to his waiting fingers. You both share the quiet like that for a little bit, passing the stick back and forth until he flicks the finished butt into the small can of other finished butts by his feet. Quiet again for a little bit as he keeps just looking off into the distance, watching a fire in the neighbor’s yard.

“I been meaning to uhh,” he starts off suddenly, his voice a low grumble until he pauses to clear his throat, making it only slightly softer. He wanted to sound gentle with you.

“I been meaning to — to talk to you, fer… a while now…” He sounds almost, nervous, fingers rubbing together soothingly. Your heart drops a little, of course your mind goes to the worse scenarios.

Does he want me to stop coming over? Stop seeing Eddie?

“I…” He sighs, and finally slowly turns his head to look at you.

“I been meaning to thank you, y/n.”

He continues as your brows stitch closer, “for everything. For,” he gestures with a thumb behind him, to the trailer. “For him.”

He goes quiet again but it’s clear he’s trying to form his thoughts into words, has more to say, as he keeps rubbing his fingers and sits up a bit more in his chair. You give him the silence, just watching him with a furrowed, concerned brow, letting him organize.

“You… y— aw, Hell,” he huffs, rubbing a hand over his eyes, and he’s smiling for what you’re pretty sure is the first time you’ve seen, just slightly turned away from you.

“What I’m tryin’ to say, kid, is — I do not know that I would have that boy in his bed right now if it weren’t for you. For that little curly fella, uhh- Dustin. Everything that went on, all that— that cult bullshit, all those lies n’ all the slander. You were there. You made yourself so damn loud, y’know, you made sure they heard you. Heard that Eddie Munson — my nephew — was not a freak. He’s not a freak.”

You find it hard to swallow, just watching him talk. He made sure he was so gentle talking to you. You find yourself nodding quickly, eagerly. Eddie is not a freak.

“And then— then he gets all… all banged up. Gets hurt real bad, n’, I-I still don’t understand all that— that,” he waves his hand in the air before sighing, dropping it, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Whatever happened to him. You were there, kid. By chance, fate, luck, by the fuckin’ grace of God or whatever powers that be, you were there.” He looks at you, you look at him. Wayne’s eyes are filled with tears but they refuse to spill.

He sniffles, “you were there to save my boy. I can’t say, y/n, I cannot say what I might’ve done. What would’ve happened, if I lost that kid. He’s my own, you understand? That’s my boy. Sure as shit after his old man ducked out, I was gonna make sure he got raised right. I was gonna make sure that he was… that he was taken care of… I don’t know what I would’ve done,” he says again, shaking his head.

You both look away, tearful, letting his words sink in and settle over you. You feel him very carefully take your hand in one of his, patting it gently with his other.

“Thank you.”

You give him a weepy smile and just nod, if you say anything you’ll burst.

“You keep on keepin’ him in line. Keep an eye on him, when I can’t. Yeah?”

Your nod becomes vigorous, of course, of course I’ll watch over him, Wayne — you have my word.

A final, firm nod from him, one more pat to your hand before he lets you go, still smiling, “good. You’re a good kid.”

[munsons-walkie]

Couple of Freaks

Eddie munson x fem!reader

Summary:

You never thought you would end up anywhere after high school. After your first year at college going down the drain, your mother kicks you out. You end up moving to Hawkins to live with your aunt and cousin. Quickly you learn the town isn’t what it seems, learning of the events that happened the past summer. Finding romance along the way was just an added bonus

flirting, mentions of abuse, mentions of death, mentions of eating disorders, drug/alcohol mentions and use, mentions of suicidal thoughts, fix it fic, takes place beginning of the school year for season 4, swearing, classic case of nerds nerding out

AO3

Chapter 1

Your leg had been bouncing the moment your plane took off. Anxiety had been running through your veins ever since you got off the phone with your Aunt Claudia two days ago. Picking your life up and leaving absolutely everything you knew in your small hometown to move to middle America in the even smaller town of Hawkins wasn’t exactly on your bucket list.

Your Angel of an aunt is letting you stay with her to help you get up on your feet after your failed attempt at college life and getting kicked out of your mother’s house.

You threw your future away! You threw our future away!

Your mother’s voice kept ringing in the back of your mind after you had told her you couldn’t take it anymore. The sting of her words hurt, but the sting of her hand hurt more. Your fingers found your cheek to run the phantom bruise that has since faded.

You closed your eyes and put headphones on to help ease your mind. Your plane ride is only about an hour and a half but the past 10 minutes felt like an eternity. You turned your head to the window as Stevie Nicks’ voice carried my thoughts through the clouds you passed.

*********

Getting off the plane seemed so much easier than getting on. This is it, you thought to yourself, I’m finally free .

You took a deep breath as you walked down the terminal to get your bags. Headphones around your neck as you took in the sounds of the airport.

 “Over here, honey!” You hear Aunt Claudia’s warm voice rise above the crowd. You turn your head and see her waving one hand, the other holding a sign saying “Welcome home!” written in big bubble letters, with your little, well not so little, cousin Dustin holding the other side and waving his free hand as excitedly as his mother.

You could feel your cheeks heating up slightly at the attention it drew from people passing nearby, but the embarrassment passed when you saw their smiling faces and couldn’t help the smile that broke out across your face and waved right back at them. Dustin came running over right away to help with your bags. It had been about 3 years since the last time you saw him, he had grown so much since and it made your heart warm to see him with his braces, knowing how upset he was for feeling different. You gave him the biggest bear hug, surprising yourself with how you didn’t have to bend over, him finally being the same height.

 “Hey, bud,” You said as he pulled away.

 He calls your name excitedly, “I’m so excited you have no idea, I can’t wait for you to see everyone and to meet the Hellfire club and-“

“Dusty, how about we let her relax first before we show her anything.” Claudia chuckled as she interrupted what you can only assume would’ve been a very long list of things to do.

 Your aunt engulfed you in the warmest hug you had in what felt like years. Your body let out a deep sigh as she rubbed your back, not saying anything for a solid 30 seconds before pulling away. She gave you a knowing smile as she looped her arm in yours.

 “We do have to get home now hun, I did make dinner to celebrate!”

***********

When you pulled up to the house, a station wagon was parked on the street. You weren’t even fully parked when 3 people walked out of the garage, your mind trying to wrap around the height of these boys. You’ve been close with Dustin and Aunt Claudia for years, visiting every few summers up until the summer before sophomore year of high school, so you recognized the faces.

 Mike, looking much taller and leaner than you had remembered, still picturing him at 10 just wanting to show you the toad he and Dustin found that day. Lucas not only looked tall but looked like he started to work out, much different than the little kid who would make fun of Mike crying when he fell down from his bike. You remember there being a third friend, Will but he didn’t seem to be there. You mentally marked that as an “Ask Dustin later” tab and filed it away. Friendships are always changing when you’re still young, especially starting high school.

 You saw Nancy, Mike’s older sister, walk over to Claudia to give her a hug. You two would always spend time together whenever you would visit, helping you both escape the boys when they got too much to handle. She came over and gave a big welcome hug.

 “It’s going to be so nice having you back around with these guys, you have no idea how it’s been dealing with teenage boys.” She lets out a small laugh as she lets you go.

 “It’s so good to see you guys! You all have no idea how much I’ve missed you all.” You walk over to the boys and give them a group hug. Surprised again at the fact that your head was now at their shoulders.

 “Uh, boys could you help with these please?” Claudia asked as she opened the trunk, each boy jogging right over with no questions asked.

 “The room down the hall, this way!” Dustin called leading them into the home. Nancy and you shared a glance and couldn’t help the laugh that broke from you. You followed them inside, remembering that you don’t want any teen boys going through your bags.

******

After the welcome they gave you, you couldn’t wait to take a hot shower and wash the last of the east coast off. Everyone helped put your books and cassettes on the shelves of the bookcase Claudia placed in her guest room- your room- for you. After a couple of hours, the group left to let me get settled. You pulled out your favorite coconut shampoo and conditioner from one of the bags followed by a vanilla-scented soap. As you was about to head over to the shower, Claudia knocked on the open door frame.

 “I know you’re still processing everything dear, but I just wanted to let you know that if you ever need to talk I am always here.” Your aunt looked at you with a hint of sadness in her eyes. She was always the type of mom to never understand why others would treat their own children like options, being such an amazing mother to Dustin. Your mind drew the similarities between her and your dad, her brother.

 You fixed a smile on my face, trying to help her to not worry more than she already has, “Don’t worry Claudia, I know.”

 She stood for a few seconds before nodding at you, “there are towels in the closet right next to the bathroom, let me know if you need anything else.” She smiled as she walked away.

You quickly got yourself situated before hopping in the shower. You turned the cold faucet to the hottest setting, then turned back a bit remembering you don’t need to burn the feelings away like you used to anymore.

 Now I’m safe, I'm safe, you reminded myself twice before turning to look in the mirror.

 It was already fogging up but that didn’t stop you from being able to see the circles under your eyes, the skin almost looking purple. Your eyes looked flat, very dull in combination with my tired face and hair was pulled tight into a ponytail. You stared at yourself until only your silhouette in the fog can be seen. Undressing quickly, you took your hair down, the ends just hitting the middle of your back. As soon as the water touched your skin you let out a sigh, the feeling even reaching deep enough to feel it in your bones. You threw your head back and let everything settle.

*********

 Your cousin called your name as he came down the hallway, “Please pick me up today! It’s getting so cold outside and Steve drives like a grandma!” Dustin whined behind you as you ate cereal at the table.

 It’s been a week since moving in. You were able to find a car for pretty cheap across town, having more than enough money saved up from odd jobs back home while you were still in college. That didn’t stop Aunt Claudia from offering a million times to pay for it, though.

 “Dustin it’s the middle of October of course it’s cold out,” you munched on honeycombs slowly drawing out the anticipation, “so, of course, I’ll pick you up.” Turning to smile at him.

 “One of these days I do need to meet this Steve guy, he sounds like your second mom.” You chuckled as you finished the bowl and walked it over to the sink.

 “God he's going to hate hearing that when I tell him. And I have Hellfire today so you can get me around 5 pm! Thanks!” Dustin, always on the move, spoke as he finished grabbing his things for school and waved goodbye.

 You watched him out the window as he hopped into Nancy Wheeler’s car, she gave a honk, you waved as you watched them drive away. Taking a deep breath, you go back to your room.

 Sprawled on your desk were different flyers for available jobs in the area. Two piqued any interest, the Family Video, and the local diner. Both are good places to really get to familiarize yourself with the people in town.

******

“I’m sorry dear, that position has been filled as of Monday.” The waitress at the diner told me as she finished cleaning off her table. 

Since Monday? I only saw the ad out yesterday on Tuesday? You thanked her for her time anyway and marched back to the car.

 Glancing at your watch and noticed it was almost 2 pm. Still too early to get Dustin . 

As if it was summoned, your stomach rumbled, reminding you that you’ve only had some cereal this morning. Deciding you were embarrassed enough by getting turned down for a job at the diner, you backed out of the parking lot and drove around town.

 You quickly found a slightly crowded McDonald’s. There was a giant black van parked over the lines with a few guys standing around it, their music blasting with the side of the van open. You parked two spots down from them, not wanting to get noticed by anyone. Quickly grabbing your purse, you get out of the car and head towards the glass doors. As you reached the door, however, it swung out, nearly missing your nose.

 “And I’m telling you that I have an awesome campaign idea! It’s going to-“ a guy in black jeans, a leather jacket, and the same shirt Dustin was wearing this morning bumped right into you. “Oh Jesus, I’m sorry!” You sputtered out taking a giant step to the side, feeling nervous about such an attractive guy seeing you be a spaz.

 “No, sorry. I uh…clearly wasn’t paying attention. The door m’lady.” He held the door open and did a small awkward bow at the waist. His long hair flipping over as he did so. You let out a small laugh and offered a quick thanks before heading in and ordering.

 Is Dustin friends with someone like that? You glance out the window, waiting for your burger and fries to come out while sipping on some sprite. They were still out there, all of them chowing down and talking animatedly. They remind me of some of the guys I was friends with back in New York, you think as your eyes stay on them. You were a little surprised to see anyone like that, especially the long-haired one, in a small town like Hawkins. 

Watching him closely as you waited, you noticed he moved around so much as he talked, the eyes of his friends never leaving his performance. You shook your head away as he turned around and almost saw you being a creep.

 After you grab your food and head back to the car, there’s a small chill in the air but the sun is still strong enough to sit outside. You jumped onto the trunk of the car and dove into your fries. The music from the van, you could hear it perfectly as Judas Priest, got turned down just a bit and your could sense a stare or two. You tried to ignore it, knowing full well that everyone in town knows each other and you’re the new shiny object.

 You took a bite of your burger and moaned a bit. God, has it really been that long since I’ve had this? You wonder to yourself as you savor the taste. Your mind going back to the east coast and your controlling mother. She never wanted to be embarrassed by her family so she made you and your dad do everything perfectly, eat perfectly, work perfectly, and even tried to get you to join ballet to be her perfect little dancer. Thankfully you were deemed too old at the time to start dancing with anyone in your age group. 

Your memories bring you back to when you were a freshman in high school, your dad snuck you out one night and went to the closest McDonald’s and pigged out. Don’t tell your mom, she’ll kill me. You smile as you remember you and your dad sharing a laugh. 

 “Eddie c’mon! I can’t have Mrs. Allen give me detention for the third day in a row dude!” One of the guys called out as the long-haired one threw his food away.

 “Gareth, honestly, you need to take it down a notch or two. We still have a good 15 minutes to get back.” The long-haired one- Eddie - snickered as he threw open the van’s driver-side door. You turned your head to the sound of the door slamming and was met by big brown eyes staring back.

 “Play something besides Judas Priest next time!” You call over to him, taking another bite of your burger. His eyes went wide for a moment, his face slightly dumbstruck.

 He quickly fixed himself and called back, “Anything for you, sweetheart!” He winked as he pulled away. You rolled your eyes and kept eating, a soft smile on your lips

 With the van gone the parking lot was too quiet, you quickly finished your food and decided to go over to the Family Video to see if they were hiring.

*****

“Yeah! Hell yeah! I-I mean sure, definitely.” The guy behind the counter tried leaning on the surface and missed, quickly shooting right back up nice and straight.

 “Really? That’s great!” You smiled back at him. Finally, a job to keep yourself busy again, you enjoyed the week of getting used to your new life but your mind would often drift back to what you left.

 A girl walked out from around a stand, and she rolled her eyes at the guy. She walked right up and leaned against the counter, “Can you start Monday? We open at 11, that is if bozo over here isn’t late from his dates the night before.” She made it a point to bite the words at him, a teasing smile on her face.

 “Oh, c’mon that was one-“

 “three times dingus!” He stopped as he was doing the math in his head.

 You enjoyed their banter going back and forth, honestly seeing yourself in between them trying to soothe the situation, “Monday works perfectly!”

 “Great! Well anyway, I’m Robin and this thing here is Steve.” She introduced herself and Steve with a flick of her wrist.

 “Dustin’s Steve?” Your mouth spoke faster than you could stop yourself.

 “Oh my god this is great, even new people in town know your best friend is a freshman!” Robin laughed as Steve shot her a glare.

 “Oh no I didn’t mean-I’m his cousin.” You tried explaining, feeling yourself fail slightly. Then a lightbulb went off over Steve’s head.

 “You’re Henderson’s cousin? You are…wow you are not how I pictured,” you crossed your arms in his direction and cocking your head, “oh god no! I didn’t mean in a bad way I guess I just-I….I just pictured Dustin but like, as a girl.” Both you and Robin shared glances at each other, dumbfounded and bursting out laughing.

 “Yeah ok, laugh it up. We’ll see you Monday.” He called as he walked away towards a customer by the back wall.

 “I’m so happy to have someone else here with me to deal with that, I’ll see you Monday!” Robin patted your shoulder as she went to ring someone up, you waved at them both with a laugh still stuck in my throat. Glancing down at your watch, 4:45. With a close of the car door, you drove over to the high school.

 ******

  That same black van was parked in the lot, you noticed as you parked nice and close to the doors on the side of the building like Dustin said to. There weren’t many cars in the lot, maybe a few teachers and little clusters of cars grouped together by friends in clubs. There were still a few minutes to spare, so you put your dad’s favorite Led Zeppelin cassette in the radio and it picked up in the middle of the last song that was playing, “Black Dog.” A nice hum through the speakers.

 You hopped out of the car and sat on the hood, taking in the sight of the school. Memories of the past hit the front of your head.

  2 years ago

  Your mom had made you walk home again, she found a candy bar wrapper in your room during her weekly inspection and freaked out. 

  “ I will not have a fat daughter! You are grounded for the week, no friends, no phone, and no dinner.” She threw your door closed and locked it from the outside. 

 You felt like such a prisoner in your own home, your only comfort in the room being a small corner in the closet that your mom always overlooked. Dad’s favorite band shirt was nicely tucked away there, and all of the cassettes the two of you bought together. You were sick of being treated like this, being a senior in high school and still having a bedroom stuck at 10 years old. 

 You went to my closet and dug out his shirt, his smell was still there after the two years he’s been gone. Your mom got bad after he left, promising you he would find somewhere for the two of you. Your mom got worse after he died on his way to pick you up. 

 “I’ll be there in two hours kiddo! Just you and me, away from this mess!” He called from a truck stop. You had your bags together and were practically jumping around the room. Two hours came and went. Then suddenly another hour passed and another. 8 hours passed and you got the knock on our door. Police officers told you and your mom how he was killed in an accident not even 45 minutes away from there. 

That  was the first night I tried to take my own life. He promised a better life and he just….left.

 You heard Dustin call your name, then heard the slam of heavy doors behind him. A giant smile across his face as he raced right over. Hopping down, you put your arm around his shoulders. Behind him were Lucas and Mike and…the guy from McDonald’s.

 “Hey again.” He nodded towards you.

 “Oh hey.” You spat out.

Oh my god, you mentally slapped yourself, stop being a spazz!

 Dustin quickly looked between the two of you, confusion was written across his face.

 “I ran into him at McDonald’s,” you explained before he even asks.

 “Oh ok, well this is Eddie, and Eddie this is-“ 

“Are you listening to Led Zeppelin right now?” Eddie jumped over to the open window, his head moving in time with the music.

 “Oh yeah, you like them?” You let go of Dustin and turned toward the long-haired metalhead.

 “Oh great here we go,” Mike whispered to the boys.

 “Are you fuc-do I like-yes!” He stuttered and spun towards you, his eyes lighting up, “that’s so badass Henderson, you didn’t tell me your cousin liked good music!” Eddie wrapped Dustin in a headlock.

“Ow Ow! I didn't know! Oww!" The two roughhoused a bit longer before Eddie let go of Dustin and gave him a pat on the shoulder, both of them laughing.

 "Alright Dust, we should get going. Mike, Lucas do you two have a ride?" You looked toward them as they shook their heads no. Meaning they were going to definitely ask you for a ride. With a sigh and an eye roll, "Get in the car losers. Eddie, it was nice seeing you again." You smiled at him as you started making your way to the driver's side.

 "Yeah-uh...Hey maybe we could-you could I don't know, maybe come to a Hellfire meeting next week?" Eddie's hand scratched the back of his head as he walked backward in front of you.

 "Well...I start a new job on Monday," you start and chew your lip for a moment thinking, "so I don't really know my schedule yet. Rain check?" You opened the door as he nodded.

“Yeah cool, rain check! Alright then, gentlemen I will see you same time and place tomorrow." He saluted them and turned to wink at you before sauntering back to his van.

 You pulled out of the parking lot with the boys and start heading to Mike and Lucas's street, with Dustin navigating....badly.

 "I don't think I've ever seen Eddie get that nervous before." Lucas commented as you were yelling at Dustin about how "the tree with the birdhouse," wasn't the best description to go off of when driving in a town you’re not familiar with.

 "I don't think he's ever invited a girl to Hellfire either." Mike also pointed out.

 "He probably invited me because he knows how much of a nerd my cousin is." You pinch Dustin as he called a "hey!"

 "Where did you get a job? You told Eddie you start Monday." Dustin asked as he rubbed his arm where he might be getting a bruise now.

 "With your second mom at Family Video," you slyly comment, parking in front of Mike Wheeler's house, earning a laugh from the boys

[adarasink]

atlas in his sleep | steddie series

SUMMARY: The plan was simple. Step one: Max distracted Henry/Vecna/One. Step two: Dustin, Steve, and Eddie distracted him long enough for step three—Robin and Nancy Molotov cocktailed the bastard, finishing him with a bullet between the eyes.

Every step of the plan fails in some way, but they all make it alive. No one knows how Eddie made it out alive. In the regroup, no one understood how Steve helped him survive a hurricane of bats. Steve knew. He dreamt about it day and night for a week until it almost drove him to insanity. Steve would never forget.

OR; A universe where everything almost went to shit, but somehow didn't.

read on ao3 | soundtrack

No one knew how Eddie survived.

No one but Steve, that is.

Steve had clear thoughts — and dreams — of Dustin's face finding their body as Steve dragged Eddie out of Lover's Lake, bloodied and dirtier than he's ever been in his entire life.

"He's... what the fuck. What the fuck! Steve, how the fuck is he alive?"

His lack of answer back then could be attributed to his panting, the tiredness in his bones from carrying both of their bodies, all the blood — god, there's so much blood — and, of course, the need for a goddamn doctor.

"Steve! How is he alive?! What the hell! You can't do that shit to me, you can't just run back through one of the gates and tell me to goddamn WAIT, then—fuck, he's bleeding so much. Is someone on stand-by? This is a Code Red! A code red! We need a doctor!"

Steve held Eddie's body in his arms while they waited for the ambulance, and avoided every other one of Dustin's questions. He might've passed out at some point, but he woke up before the sirens came.

He was alive. Everyone was.

On his ride to the hospital, Steve closed his eyes and prayed that would be enough this time.

For two weeks, Steve was surrounded by the faces of doctors and the smell of sterile rooms.

Even though he needed only a few days at the hospital to tend to his wounds, he was one of many of them who needed a doctor.

Everything was a mess, too, outside of their bubble of 'I Just Saved the World': Hopper was back, but he now worked with the Government in the shadows, trying his best to come up with an excuse (lie) to get Eddie rid of his charges and explain everything that happened, as well as why he was back.

Max almost died.

That one hit Steve in the chest harder than bullets or any demo-bats biting chunks of meat out his body. Max almost fucking died, and Steve felt a sour taste in his mouth every time he blinked and was reminded of that by the sight of her arriving at the hospital with two broken bones, passed out from the shock of the pain and with tears of blood streaming down her face. Max Mayfield, the sass and sunshine aura hidden behind death glares of the group, she had almost died if Eleven hadn't found inside of her the strength and willpower to fight Vecna before he finished his job and it was too late.

What would have happened if Max had died?

"Four sacrifices. Four gates."

Steve dreamt about four gates opening up in his town. Splitting Hawkins into pieces. Sometimes, the gates looked like four gaping eyes. Others, they connected. However the gates appeared in his dreams, it was a sight from hell, but none of them worse than seeing Max pale and comatose.

There was also the fact that Eddie was alive, but things were far from easy for him.

Due to Lucas's statement, painted and curated with the help of Eleven, Joyce, and Hopper, the charges were taken away. There was no cult, the perpetrator of the deaths was being "searched" and they all had witnessed "Henry Creel" tying up Max, trying to perform some sort of "ritual". All the air quotes were necessary and said on live TV by Sheriff Powell. It offered some sort of explanation, along with a whole other lot of bullshit, and removed his charges 'officially', but a town like Hawkins would never forget and drop the opportunity of demonizing the D&D Master of something called Hellfire Club.

So for two weeks, Steve went to the hospital.

He visited Max along with the other kids, read to her, tried his best a teasing remark here and there about 'I'm gonna call a lawyer if you don't wake up soon and see what I can do about getting those Wonder Woman comics I heard you have to myself... I'm serious, Mayfield. I love Wonder Woman', but the silence that followed never got easier.

When not in Max's room, Steve was at Eddie's.

He was there so often, in fact, that Wayne Munson became sort of his... friend.

Well—Steve called him a friend. Getting more than a grunt or a nod from Wayne was as easy as getting candies out of a kid's hand, so the small conversations meant he must at least tolerate Steve's presence. Wayne about his day, offered small talk, even let him be alone with Eddie, something he did only for Dustin and the other boys of Hellfire.

Steve visited him, talking to him whenever he found him awake.

By the third visit, Eddie learned to stop asking the same question Dustin pestered him with: How is he alive, Steve? He was surrounded. What did you do?

Steve avoided them all until they stopped asking.

He was getting good at that.

At one point, Eddie just shook his head, looked Steve up and down, then sighed. "You know, Harrington..."

"Yeah?"

"I have no idea how you did it," Eddie paused for dramatic purposes, pinning Steve under his piercing eyes, saying you know what I'm talking about without opening his mouth, then continued. "But... however it was. Thanks. I mean it. I..." He snickered. "I think I might still have a battle or two left in me, so—" he let out a shuddery breath. "I'm happy I'll be here for them."

"No more battles," Steve said, talking straight out of his ass. Will's words had already arrived in his ears: He's alive. Henry's alive. "Not for a while, at least. I fucking hope not," Steve chuckled humorlessly, looking away from Eddie for a second. "We all need at least a goddamn winter of peace, don't we?"

"Sure do."

"Yeah. So let's hope for that."

"Thought you were gonna say 'pray' for that for a sec," Eddie laughed. Steve joined, finding the same humor in the thought.

"Pray to who?" Steve laughed harder.

"No clue. I always had lots of thoughts on the concept of a god or whatever and why we humans cling to this idea of something 'bigger' than us 'protecting' and 'watching over us', but I am not nearly high enough to get into those." Eddie did air quotes, and Steve noted this is where he got the habit from now.

Two times Robin threw him her weird judgy look when he did air quotes in the middle of their conversation, and Steve just realized that ah... so this is where I saw it first.

Steve nodded. "So you're telling me that when you get high your go-to topics are... god and immortality?"

"Precisely, darling."

"Wow. You sound like a delight to be around when high." Steve should be used by now to the way Eddie called him nicknames and how easy it was to banter with him—they'd done it plenty. Steve was in charge of bringing Eddie any news or supplies when he was hiding, and whether they were walking around woods or stealing vans they had enough bickering to fill in any silence, but it still got to him sometimes. Darling. Big boy.

Eddie stopped staring at him, snorting. "I am." He grinned, dimples and all. Steve had to look away because—his dimples. He laughed, shaking his head and averting his eyes. "I always made Gareth and Jeff almost piss themselves."

"Because Gareth and Jeff are such tough audiences, huh? They barely worship the ground you walk on," Steve offered back with enough sarcasm to make Max proud.

Eddie lifted his arm just to shake a finger in Steve's face. "Nuh huh. You're confusing them with Dustin and Mike."

"God! How could I."

"It's okay, Stevie, you'll get the hang of who my admirers are in no time." Eddie laughed curtly. "They'll be the only handful of people trying to convince the whole town not to burn me with pitchforks when I get outta here."

The image of people crowding outside the hospital doors with pitchforks, yelling 'kill the freak!' among other things made any sort of glee leave Steve's face, and he looked back at Eddie with creased eyebrows. "No one's gonna burn you." Never gonna happen. I won't let it happen. Didn't do what I did to let some human lay a finger on you. Steve swallowed the anger, that familiar sickening feeling he was growing more and more accustomed to these past days, and breathed through it before it took over him. "Stop talking shit, Munson."

"Oops. 'Munson'. Sorry, I won't talk of my haters."

"'s not funny."

"Hey—" Eddie's tone brought Steve's eyes up to his. They looked open, and so earnest that Steve's anger evaporated into thin air. "I know there are people who don't like me, but I know—" he bit his lip, then tried again. "I'm used to their looks, and judgment, and shit. I'm not gonna let it get to me. I know Hopper and Powell are working to make stuff go away."

Steve breathed another moment, then nodded. "Yeah." Things will be fine. He said those words to himself every day and night, even if he barely believed in them.

Eddie nodded back with a tight-lipped smile. "And..." his tone said here it comes. Steve braced himself for the terrible joke. "Even if these people thought they were clever enough to do something to me... they've got nothing on my crew."

It was the smugness in his lips that made Steve feel that tingle in his nape. He was part of Eddie's crew. Somehow in the last few weeks, Steve went from being jealous of him, a mere stranger, to help him escape the law and, later, helping save the city with him. Now he visited him daily. Watched him when he slept, sometimes. Prayed to the darkness he'd be okay, and tried running away from his best friend's inquisitive eyes every time she asked 'are you okay, Steve?' because it sounded a lot like 'where did your mind go to, Steve' and his mind only went to one place now. He shook his head. "Is that right?" Is your crew really that badass?

"You fucking bet it is," Eddie smiled wider. Steve's stomach fluttered at the sight—he loved Eddie smiling so much it made him sick. "My crew's got only Level Twenty bad motherfuckers. And one of 'em is, like, thirteen! D'you know how sick that is?" Eddie blew raspberries. "What are they gonna do against the wrath of Erica Sinclair?"

That made Steve laugh out loud. The idea of anyone having the upper hand against the youngest Sinclair was funnier than anything on TV. "Alright, you've got a point. They have nothing against your crew."

"Damn right they don't," Eddie nodded.

"They don't what?" Wayne's voice asked from the door.

Both Eddie and Steve turned their heads to him, equally surprised by his presence. Steve wondered how long he'd been there, watching their weird exchange.

From Wayne's corner of the mouth smile, he was amused by their antics. Steve knew the rest of the corridor probably weren't as happy with their loud laughter and loud voices, but it seemed to amuse Wayne seeing his kid smile that much.

"This town has nothing on me and my friends," Eddie repeated.

Wayne entered the room nodding and extended one of the two cups in his hands towards Steve, who accepted it with a smile and a thankful nod. "I mean. If everything you kids told me is true, then..." He drifted off, then snickered behind his cup. "Yeah. Sounds about right."

Wayne was way calmer about learning everything Hopper and Joyce had to tell him than any other parent probably would.

Steve lingered in the room a little while longer, happy to be there to witness Wayne and Eddie's awkwardly-paced, yet adorable conversation. They were a lot similar, and Steve could see where Eddie got his dry and quick sense of humor from.

Plus—it was nice seeing a parent who cared.

All Steve got when he showed up bruised and battered in his house was scorn and disdain from both parties.

It was fine.

Steve had his crew, and Eddie was spot-on about one thing: They were a goddamn good crew.

[officialaemondtargaryen]

Look i’ma need 24 and 12 in one (in that order) and Eddie saying it and I’ma need that stat. Please. Thank you. You’re awesome.

Prompts: (24) "The first time you smiled, it felt like the universe aligned" and (12) "I think I'm in love with you and I'm terrified"

Characters: Eddie Munson x Reader

Word Count: 754

Trigger Warning: mentions of blood, near-death experience

The moment that he cut that rope, you knew you were going after him. He said that he was going to buy you some more time to make an escape with Dustin, but you knew that he just wanted the chance to be a hero. For your own selfish reasons, you couldn't let him have it. You wouldn't.

If Eddie Munson was going to die, then goddamnit, so were you.

"Dustin," your voice was trembling as you stared up at the gaping hole in the ceiling of Eddie's trailer. "Help me get up there."

Your younger friend didn't even hesitate, he immediately sprang into action and pulled over a barstool, situating it right under the gate. You shared a look, giving him a nod before crawling up on the stool and grabbing onto an edge, pulling yourself into the dark dimension. Your body landed with a thud and you were pretty sure you had herniated a disc or maybe broken a rib.

"Are you okay?" Dustin called up to you.

"Yeah," you groaned as you rolled to your side and pushed yourself up from the floor. Dustin tossed your ax upwards and you were able to catch it, slinging it over your shoulder. "I need you to find something else for us to get back through. Another sheet, a ladder, something."

He nodded and disappeared from your sight. Outside of the trailer, you could hear the ear-piercing screeching and the sound of screams.

Eddie.

The earth shook beneath your feet, making you unsteady, but you ran as fast as you could towards him. Your heart nearly stopped beating at the sight; eyes wide, jaw slack, and a dozen or so bats swarming around him, diving at each opportunity they had to take a bite out of his flesh. He was pinned to the ground, struggling to fight his foe; his body writhing, weapons discarded to the side.

"Get the hell off!" You yelled, swinging your ax down on the bat that had its tail wrapped around Eddie's throat. Their attention diverted to you, and you did your absolute best to fend them off; pure adrenaline pumping through your veins as you swung through the air, taking down bat after bat.

Suddenly, you felt a pain in your side that brought you to your knees; razor-sharp teeth tearing through your muscle. You dug your fingers into the bat's slimy skin and tore it away from your body, screaming in agony as its teeth ripped through your flesh.

You could see in Eddie's wide, glistening eyes that this was the moment that you were both going to die. Still, you staggered to your feet ready to swing at any bat that even attempted to come near you, but the moment that you lifted your ax to take a swing, the bats dropped to the ground like flies; dead.

Whether it was some kind of miracle or by the grace of God, you were thankful that it was over. Your body collapsed; chest heaving, exhausted, bleeding, and wounded.

"Eddie," you crawled over to him. Tears immediately swelled in your eyes. He had lost a lot of blood and his breathing was shallow; eyes dark and pooling with his own tears.

"Y- you saved me," He whispered with blood-stained lips forcing a small smile. It damn near broke you. "Y-you're my hero."

You smiled back at him as you cradled him in your arms, fingers gently moving the hair from his face as your tears dropped to his cheeks. "You're the hero, Eddie."

He lifted up a finger and wiped a tear from your cheek. "Y-you know," He sputtered. "The first time you smiled at me, it- it felt like the universe aligned. I shouldn't have-" he coughed more blood. "I shouldn't have waited this long to tell you, but, I th- I think I'm in love with you and I'm terrified."

"Terrified because you might die or?"

"That too," he tried to laugh.

"Well, guess what?" You asked, squeezing his hand in yours as hard as you could. "You're not going to die, you can't, I won't let you."

"M-maybe you should," he breathed.

You shook your head, "Sorry, Munson, you're not getting away from me that easy. Especially not when you've just confessed your love to me. You're stuck with me now."

"I think I could live with that," his smile was blood and grit but damn if it didn't make your heart flutter.

"Yeah?" You asked, he nodded. "Good. Let's get you out of here."

[helpwhatsthis]

no bc imagine the angst potential for eddie surviving, and the stress of helping him through recovery starts to physically affect his SO (whether steve or reader) and the side effects make him think they're cursed by vecna.

it would start with horrible nightmares, so he wouldn't think much of it because everyone is having them.

they can barely make it through the night without waking up screaming or sobbing. it's gets so bad that they don't even want to sleep anymore, opting to drink lots of coffee and forcing themselves to stay up.

it's not that much of a struggle either, even though they're exhausted. they would much rather stay awake and watch him breathe peacefully than sleep and relieve him almost dying.

he barely notices bc he's always tired and is sleeping a lot due to the healing he's undergoing.

the exhaustion would turn to headaches, which he definitely does notice. he's not concerned about it being vecna yet, because he knows they suffered injuries of their own and that they aren't sleeping well.

they continue to get worse, turning into full on migraines that never seem to really go away.

finally, the stress of carrying out everyday activities while in that amount of pain would cause them to start having nose bleeds.

at that point, they would go to the doctor. they would obviously be told what's wrong and be given medication to help them sleep better.

they don't tell eddie, because they don't want him to feel bad for needing their help and causing any stress.

but they also don't take the meds, because they're to scared to fall asleep and see eddie getting ripped apart.

so they do their best to hide the nose bleeds, and if he does see it, they pretended its fall allergies. but he's skeptical, and it starts to worry him that something isn't right.

he doesn't want to admit to himself that he's scared they're cursed, but it's starting to cross his mind more and more. the bloody tissues in the trash keep piling up, and the amount of tylenol in the bottle keeps going down.

he finally freaks one night when they keep flinching. after about the millionth time he asks, they tell him that they keep seeing something walking in the hallway.

he loses his shit, forces their headphones on their ears and calls everyone.

with the music playing in their ears, and eddie not listening to them that they're fine (they're definitely not), they start to cry and end up falling asleep.

and it's the first peaceful sleep in months, even though they wake up in the hospital. they find out that joyce forced eddie to take them.

from then on, eddie is very adamant that they get into a sleeping routine. he even asks hopper to call owens to see if he knows a therapist that they won't have to lie to.

luckily, he does.

and over time, the nightmares stop. the headaches stop. the nosebleeds stop.

vecna is dead. all that is left is for them and eddie to heal together.

[the-case-book-of-fanfiction]

Not Quite Dead

Ship: Eddie x fem!reader

Summary: You find yourself alone in Hawkins, a town ripped to shambles despite the sacrifices made to save it. Is it better or worse that Eddie doesn't live to see it? He'll tell you himself.

Word Count: 6,085

Warnings: angst, fluff, mentions of Eddie's fate s4e9, not-quite-flashbacks, a tiny bit of a plot, implied (years previous) sex

Notes: This story takes place after season 4. Reader is Eddie's longtime girlfriend.

☟ Continue below the fold ☟

Maybe it was best he had no gravestone. The whole town would deface it if he had one. You could see it in your head: tiny little carrots like the ones your English teachers used to mark your papers with, except the carrot would change the name engraved to Eddie 'the freak' Munson. Or maybe they'd just spray paint over his name, or even try to scrape it off, and just write 'the freak' in its place. Or 'murderer' or 'cult leader' or whatever insane shit they thought he was. There would be pentagrams, disgusting graffiti, everything that shouldn't be on his grave—but already decorated his missing posters—would find a home there.

So maybe it was better that there was nothing to commemorate him. But it hurt, just a little bit, to see graves for Chrissy, for Fred, for Patrick—but nothing for the hero of Hawkins.

Not that it meant much to be the hero of Hawkins. There was a line at a constant stand-still leading out of the town, most people desperate to get out of it. Those that stayed lived in fear and muttered about how the Devil had finally come to drag Hawkins to Hell. The ground was still broken and sunk in from the ruptures that had healed only slightly—just enough to no longer be glowing scars in the ground leading directly into what really was Hell.

Everyone was speculating what the cave-ins were. Some people said it was from an earthquake, and that was the most popular theory. Some said it was the result of Satanic activity, and those were the people that defaced Eddie's posters. Some said it wasn't quite Satanic, but definitely paranormal.

You knew what it was. You couldn't talk about it. Not because you alone knew what it was—your friends, the kids who had gravitated toward Eddie and the recent Hawkins graduates who hadn't actually gotten a graduation, knew what had happened. They knew what the ruptures were. They had been trying to get you to join in on their conversations and talk to them about the ruptures, what you had seen in the Upside Down.

But you couldn't talk about it. They knew why. It had taken you almost two months before you could even say your boyfriend's name or look at his destroyed missing posters.

Normally, you told your friends everything, especially Robin, who had been the first person to accept that you and Eddie were a thing. She had been your closest confidant since middle school, when you saw Eddie play for the first time and had an instant crush on him. But you couldn't even talk to her these days. You couldn't tell her that you still woke up in a cold sweat, that you still needed to listen to the tapes of unfinished Corroded Coffin songs that were mostly just Eddie's voice just to get to sleep, that you would zone out only to realize you were crying seemingly over nothing, that you had gone to the store to pick up more of Eddie's cologne because you'd been wearing it and had used it all up already, that you took a shower every time you woke up from an accidental nap because it still felt like you were covered in blood, that you slept in his leather jacket even though it was way too hot for that, that you wore the ring he'd frantically pressed into your hand as his breathing faltered on your necklace, that you refused to delete any of the numerous voicemails on the phone in your room because they were all of Eddie calling you with something for a campaign in his head he wanted to run by you.

And you definitely couldn't tell her that none of these little reminders actually helped, because, at the end of the day, you still had to go to sleep alone after six years of having him just an arm's length away. And there was nothing worse than realizing, every time you turned around to tell Eddie something, that he wasn't there, and that he wasn't ever going to be there again.

You hated Jason. You blamed him for dragging Eddie into this mess. But you understood him now. If you hadn't known about Vecna and the Upside Down, you would have been more than happy to blame someone for Eddie's death, just like he had blamed Eddie for Chrissy.

You had tried so hard not to get Eddie dragged into your life. You'd gotten sucked in when you found Nancy crying in the bathroom after Barb went missing, and your life had gotten a lot more complicated after that. Eddie had always had enough enough on his plate as it was. You never wanted to make it worse.

But then Chrissy—

"Y/N? You okay?" Robin snapped her fingers in front of your face. She looked worried, and you had a feeling she'd been trying to get your attention for a long time. Steve and Nancy, sitting on a picnic blanket with the boys, Max, and Eleven just a few feet away, looked over at you, terrified. Dustin seemed to be the only one who knew exactly why you'd been in your head instead of in the park.

"Huh?"

"You zoned out again," she said, sitting down beside you. "At first I thought it was just because Steve's yapping about girls again, but, uh, then I realized..." She wiped her finger underneath your eyes, and you felt the tear smudge across your cheek. You flinched away violently. Robin went pale. "Oh, God, he used to— Oh, Y/N, I'm so sorry, I didn't realize—"

You took a shaky breath and swiped your knuckles under your eyes. "It...it's fine. I just...sorry."

"There's no need to apologize, that was totally my fault, I should have realized—"

"No, please. It's fine." You sniffed, breathing out through your mouth. "I'm fine. I just...need a minute."

You got up quickly, your head reeling instantly, and you stumbled toward the public bathroom just feet away. You balled your hands into fists. You went to open the door and something slammed into your arm. You screamed upon recognizing what it was—a bat.

You stumbled backward away from it, your throat tightening and every muscle seizing up. It wasn't a demobat, sure, but it was still a bat. All it took was one glance at its mouth and you could hear Eddie's heavy panting, feel his blood, see the tears on his face, feel his rapidly fading heartbeat beneath your fingers, hear him crying but trying to hide it from Dustin.

The bat chirruped squeakily, hopping toward you on the ground. One of its wings was a bit mangled and bloody, dragging awkwardly behind the rest of its body.

You whimpered, stepping around the bat. "I'm sorry, little guy, but I just really don't like you. Robin says you have...rabies. Or—or something."

No, that was definitely not why you didn't like bats, but you didn't need to explain to the broken creature—or to anyone else, for that matter, including yourself—that you didn't like them because they'd torn your boyfriend apart.

With a quiet whimper, you slammed the door of the bathroom shut behind you. A small thump echoed against the door. You had a feeling it was the bat.

You locked yourself in one of the bathroom stalls and put a hand over your mouth to muffle the sounds of your tears, just in case Robin or Nancy came to check on you.

~❊~

That night, you stared at your empty bed. You touched the pillow made out of the red and black flannel Eddie had loved to wear when it was cold out. Wayne had given it to you almost immediately after Dustin had told him about Eddie.

"This is...this is yours now," Wayne had said, holding it out to you. You'd tried to protest that no, he should keep it as a memento, but Wayne was having none of it. "He would have wanted you to have it, Y/N. I...I'm sure he told you often, but you were his world. He'd want you to have something of his."

And you did, you really did. You wore the flannel around everywhere, to anything, anywhere, at any time, before it became too much of a memory. Any time you caught a glimpse of it or put it on, you remembered the time he wrapped you up in it after getting caught in the rain, or the time he used it as a pillow for your head when you got busy in his van, or the time he wrapped it around his waist when it got unexpectedly warm. So you cut it up and made it into a pillow case, because that was a little more bearable.

You hugged the pillow to your chest as you lay in the darkness of your room. It still smelled a little bit like him, even after being washed quite a few times. And even after being cried on many, many times.

Tonight was going to be one of those nights, a night where you were crying even before you fell asleep and woke up in the morning, you could just tell.

Head buried into the flannel pillow, you almost didn't hear it. The small thump on your window. But after a few seconds of silence, it registered in the back of your head that that was not normal. The last time you'd heard that sound was when Eddie knocked before crawling through your window at night, some three years ago, before your parents gave up because you loved the metalhead, try as they might try to get you to fall for the jock.

You rolled out of bed and flicked on the light, pushing up the window and shoving your head out into the night.

Nothing.

A chirrup.

You looked down and squeaked.

There it was again, the bat with the mangled wing, resting on the slanted shingles of your roof—one of them out of place from the time Eddie had given you a heart attack by slipping on it. You frowned at the bat, a little less terrified of it than the first time you'd seen it. "How did you get up here, little thing?" Your room was on the third floor of your house, but it seemed impossible that the tiny thing could fly up there with a broken wing.

Ignoring Robin's small voice in your head saying it probably—no, definitely—had rabies and was following you, you reached out a hand and stroked the top of its head. To your surprise, it made a very human-like coo.

"Oh, you just want love, don't you?" You sighed as you took in its wing. "And maybe some help. Look, little one, I'm sorry, but I can't help you. You terrify me." Because you killed my boyfriend, even though you didn't actually kill my boyfriend, and neither did your actual species, but tomato, tomato. "Maybe one day I'll be able to tell you why."

You shut the window and curled yourself around your pillow once more, reaching a hand up to the necklace you refused to take off—the one with Eddie's ring on it. You held the ring tightly in your hand, and it was still there when you jolted awake in the morning, covered in sweat and panicking just like always.

But before you took your usual shower, you glanced out the window.

The bat was gone.

~❊~

"I think I'm going insane."

You sat with Dustin on a park bench, by the edge of the graying field. The disease—or whatever it was, but the townspeople called it a disease—was spreading further and further out each day, but you still hadn't figured out exactly what it was. Nancy was sure it had something to do with the vision Vecna had shown you, but you didn't have the mental or emotional strength to help them figure it out.

You'd seen the bat several more times—at the record store where you worked, at the autobody shop Eddie used to work at, at your front door, on your car, on the sidewalk, through your bathroom window, and several more times by your bedroom window. You didn't know what the others would do if you told them you were seeing the same bat everywhere (Robin might tell you to get checked for rabies), but you trusted Dustin to take you seriously and...and not tell you that you were crazy.

"Why?"

"Because there's a bat with a mangled wing that's following me everywhere."

Dustin frowned. "Go on."

You explained, in detail, every time you had seen the bat. As usual, Dustin put it all together in record time.

"And you think that you're hallucinating the bat...because it's always showing up when you're thinking about...Eddie?"

You nodded. "And more than that—there's something special about each of those places. That sidewalk? Not a random sidewalk! Outside the restaurant Eddie took me to on our first date six years ago. Bedroom window? He always crawled through to come see me! My front door? Whenever I was upset, he'd surprise me with a big bouquet of flowers outside on my front step."

Dustin frowned. "There's...something special about Eddie and your...bathroom...window?"

You blushed. "It's not what you're thinking, I swear, he accidentally broke it once."

"He what?"

"He was waving around an old stick and it broke and flew through the bathroom window. It's nothing creepy, I swear."

Dustin raised his eyebrows. "Are you sure your parents loved him?"

"Eh." You sighed, putting your head in your hands. "I don't know, Dustin. It's just... I feel like I'm losing my mind. Hallucinating. I just don't know why it would be a bat, of all things! I mean...they...or something like them, really..." You put your head in your hands. "Why would I see a bat everywhere that means something to the two of us?"

"He liked bats," Dustin remembered. "In fact, he liked them so much he had a tattoo of them. Maybe that's why?"

"I mean, that would make sense if the demobats hadn't—"

"I know," he sighed. "But now you can't think of the tattoo, you just think of—"

"Blood," you said bluntly. "His blood. His death. Yeah."

"Has anyone else seen the bat?"

"No."

Dustin was silent for a moment, then said, "Alright, fine. Take me somewhere that meant a lot to both of you, another one of those special places, and if you see him, maybe it's a hallucination. But if we both see him, it's not. Then we'll figure out what it is after that."

You thought for a moment, then dragged Dustin to his feet. "I know exactly the place."

~❊~

It took some bribing, but you got the bartender of the bar the boys loved playing at to take you around back to the dressing rooms. You refused to tell Dustin why it was special, other than that the band played here all the time, but you were pretty sure from his expression he figured it out as soon as your eyes darted to the desk and you turned red. You remembered bursting through that door and seeing Eddie perched on the desk, swinging his legs like a little kid because the show had gone so well, and—

"Oh, no," Dustin groaned, jolting you out of your reverie, "don't tell me that you two actually—"

"Fine, I won't tell you."

"You know, saying that is almost worse."

"Oh, shut up, Dustin. We were together for six years, there's not a chance in hell that we didn't—"

"But in a dressing room? A public dressing room?"

"The door was locked!" you said defensively. "Although he did get quite loud that night."

"NOPE, no more!" Dustin said, clamping his hands to his ears. "Alright, fine. It's special. Gross, but special. Why here?"

You flopped into the chair at the desk, remembering Eddie's feet kicked up on it while the two of you kissed and giggled, his back to the mirror. "Two years in, Eddie and the band had a gig and he finally let me, y'know, get on my knees for him, so to speak. It was the second time we ever did anything, so, you know. Special."

Dustin was making a face.

You rolled your eyes. "Shut up, we were sixteen and horny."

He sighed, sitting down on the small couch, the only other piece of furniture in the room. "I'm actually not all that surprised. Seems like Eddie."

You smiled to yourself. "Yeah. Seems like Eddie."

Dustin folded his hands together. "I miss him, too, you know. I miss him being dramatic and standing on tables. I miss the voices he used to do during campaigns. I miss play fighting with him."

You hugged yourself, letting your leg swing. "Yeah... I miss his voicemails, because he'd called me while I was at work when he had an idea. I miss listening to him sing on stage. I miss just hanging out in his room while he wrote songs and I studied. Shit, I even miss watching him get frustrated when he was trying to learn a song on the guitar and it wasn't coming to him. You should have seen him trying to learn Master of Puppets. He was nonstop playing that guitar. I swear he didn't sleep for a week just so he could get it down. I used to tease him he was trying to pick up girls."

"He didn't want other girls," Dustin said, picking up on that old insecurity that used to bubble up all the time. "He wanted you."

"That's why it was teasing, Dusty. There was a time when I was afraid of that, but that was never his fault. If Eddie was one thing, he was loyal to a fault."

Dustin sat in silence, clearly working up the courage to say something. You waited, letting him find the words. Eddie had always done the same thing when he wanted to talk about something that meant a lot to him. No wonder the two of them had clicked so quickly.

"If I could go back to that moment," Dustin said, voice almost imperceptible, "when he decided to draw them away, when he cut the sheet and just—just ran... Y/N, I would. I would go back, and I would change everything. I'd make him go first. I'd...I'd do what he did instead, just to make sure he got back to you."

You looked up, your heart breaking at the absolute sorrow and anger in his voice. "Dustin..."

"If I could have died in his place, I would do it." He was shaking with his fierce determination. "Y/N, I swear it."

You got off the desk. "Dustin, hon, no. Please, no. I don't...I don't wish you had died instead. I wish none of you had to die. I wish Max wasn't blind, I wish Eddie wasn't gone, I wish none of this had ever happened. I wouldn't trade you, any of you, just to get Eddie back because he would have hated that more than anything and because you are my friends."

"But one of us would hurt less than Eddie," Dustin mumbled.

"Dustin," you said, because you could think of nothing else to say. You pulled him into a hug.

And then there was a chirrup in your ear.

You screamed, lurching back, automatically swatting at your shoulder. The little bat fell onto the couch beside Dustin and he squeaked at you, almost accusatory.

"Oh, don't start with me, you scared the life out of me!" you snapped at it, then frowned. "Dustin, did I just argue with the imaginary bat in my head?"

Dustin was staring at the bat. "Yes—you argued with it, no—it's not in your head. I can see it." He stood up slowly. "I thought you said it had a mangled wing?"

You peered at it. "I think it's healing. Look, it's still dragging behind the rest of it, but it's not bloody anymore."

The bat chirruped again, inching closer to you. You slowly extended a hand, the bat's head following your movements. You gave its head a little pet with your forefinger. It sniffed you before chirruping again.

"It looks like a Mariana fruit bat, but this the wrong area for it," Dustin said from behind you. The bat's attention swiveled to him. "Hi, little guy. Where'd you come from? I don't think you got here all the way from Guam. Especially not as a baby."

"Is it a baby?"

"Look at the size of it! It's tiny, there's no way it's not a baby."

For some reason, the bat didn't seem to like being called tiny. It clicked rather angrily at Dustin before flying awkwardly out the window, open just a crack.

"What the hell?" Dustin muttered.

"Well, now you've met the bat," you sighed. "I wonder if I should name it."

"Don't name it! Robin'll think it gave you rabies."

"That's why Robin doesn't get to know about the bat."

"You haven't told her?"

"What would I do that for?! Just go up to her and say, Hello, Robin, I've been adopted by a bat, the same creature you're deathly afraid of because it has rabies! That'll go over swell, I'm sure."

Dustin rolled his eyes. "No need to be dramatic. It's not like the bat's done anything to you. Yet."

"Yet being the word Robin would pick up on. Look, for now, let's just keep it between us. Figure out why the bat likes me. Then go from there. If it's something to do with Vecna, then we'll tell them."

"And if not?"

"I'm sure it'll go away when it's fully healed. That's gotta be why it's following me. It's injured and not thinking straight."

~❊~

Storms had become even more and more recent in Hawkins. The weather was reflecting the foul of mood of the townspeople—or perhaps of Vecna, if Eleven was right. You were almost entirely certain she was.

But you couldn't put your finger on why Vecna hadn't attacked yet. Why would he let his displeasure show through the torrential showers that were ripping shingles off of Hawkins rather than just come through to kill everyone off himself?

You were debating exactly that as you sat through another storm of hurricane strength, staring out the window and waiting for it to be over. Sometimes the storms were only a few seconds long, but this one felt like it was going to last for days.

You sighed and rolled off your bed, flopping on the floor beside your collection of cassette tapes. There had to be twenty Corroded Coffin tapes in there, but you were looking for one specific one. It wasn't quite a Corroded Coffin tape, really, because Eddie never let the band see this one—this one was just for you, songs he'd written when you couldn't look over his shoulder to see the words.

It took a little bit to find the tape, but once you did, you felt immeasurable relief. You played the tape and cracked open your window enough to smell the rain, leaning your back against your bed and closing your eyes.

Eddie's voice flooded your ears as he started the little speech he'd written for the first song. He'd written one for each song, explaining why he'd written it and when or something special about it. He'd been adorably embarrassed when he handed it to you, blushing profusely and apologizing about how stuttery he was when he'd recorded it and how his voice was a little shaky and how they weren't exactly what he wanted them to sound because he didn't have the band to do the background music. But you'd loved them all.

"Hi, sweetheart. Happy seventeenth birthday. Belated, sorry, but I, uh...I couldn't get all these perfect in time, so... So I waited. Um. They're still not as perfect as I'd like them to be, but, uh. But you deserved your birthday gift before you thought I'd forgotten about you. Uh. Yeah. So. Ah, jeez, I didn't think an introduction would be this hard. Maybe I should have had a script," his recorded voice said with that little breathy laugh you'd always loved. "Um. Anyway. This...this first one. I wrote it a while ago, actually, for you. Like a long while ago. Like when I first realized I liked you a while ago. Probably before you knew I existed. I'm talking middle school early— Maybe I should stop talking about how long ago I wrote it. Um. Sorry. Rambling. Uhhh...it's about how I felt that first time I saw you. A little cliché, yeah, but, um...every word's true. Every word, sweetheart. I really did fall in love with you at first sight. I mean, how could I not, when you looked over at me and smiled like that, that shy smile with your tongue poking out between your teeth and bottom lip. I love that smile. So, um. So I called it 'Shy Smile.' The song. This song. So, um. Here goes nothing, I guess."

And, oh, could that boy sing. Corroded Coffin might have been a heavy metal band, but Eddie could certainly manage the soft songs just as artfully. He had the perfect voice for it, a gentle croon that had sometimes lulled you to sleep.

You remembered very clearly Eddie singing the songs he wrote for you and smoothing his hand over your hair to get you to sleep when you were stressed or upset. And it had always worked.

Recorded Eddie hummed through his guitar solo and your chest tightened. You drew your legs up, settling your head on them. "Oh, Eddie, you have no idea how much I need you."

And then, a few songs later, he was crooning about how much he loved you, promising never to leave you, telling you he'd always be by your side.

The tears came suddenly and didn't stop. Your body shook violently as you sobbed, his name somewhere in between the sniffles and cries. You dragged the flannel pillow off the bed and wrapped your body around it, burying yourself in his familiar, if faint, scent.

It took Eddie's voice in another song's introduction to ground you again. "Okay, baby, I've got a happier one for you. Well. Not that they've been sad, really, just...this one's less sappy. Even though I know you're a sap, and I'm a sap, and we're just two hopeless romantics." God, you could hear his smile. "This one's about that day we spent at Lover's Lake. That was...such an—an awesome day. And I promise it's not about the sex in the van, I want you to be able to listen to this with your parents around." A beat, which you managed a shaky laugh during. "Not sure if you can now, now that I've...that I've said that. Well, just let me know, I'll make you another tape without the introductions if I gotta. And don't you say it's too much work, because I'll do anything for my girl. Got that? Anything. Okay. Here we go, I called this one 'Lake Swimming.'"

You wiped your eyes. "It's okay. You're okay. You've still got him like this. And that's all you can have now."

In the midst of the softness of Eddie's acoustic guitar, you heard it. The chirruping. Your head snapped toward the window, and there was the little bat, clinging to the window and trying desperately to squeeze through the tiny crack.

You lurched to your feet. "Oh, you poor thing! Out in that storm all by yourself. And so little!" It squeaked. "Oh, right. You don't like being called little. What's that about?" You pushed up the window, cupping the bat in your hands. "Oh, oh no, you're shivering!" You closed the window with your elbow, cuddling the bat close to your chest. "Robin would so kill me for this."

The bat chirruped.

"What is it? Do you want to be put down?"

The bat sniffed your hands and attached itself to your shirt, crawling up you until it had reached your shoulder. It perched there.

"Um. Okay, then," you said, sitting back down carefully. "I wonder if you're hungry..." Well, you had some fruit in the fridge, and a fruit bat would certainly eat that, right? "Can I put you down so you don't freak out my parents?" You gently plucked the bat from your shoulder, nestling him on the flannel pillow. "Um. Stay. I'll be right back."

You hurried downstairs, grabbing the container of fruit from your fridge with a flippant excuse that you were just a little hungry. The bat was sitting exactly where you left it when you returned and offered it a piece of fruit.

It crawled into your hand and munched down on the fruit. You sat back on the floor, turning the volume on Eddie's tape up a bit more. "I hope you don't mind my boyfriend's music, my friend. It's quite good, if I say so myself, and I don't think I'm just biased. He's really good." You sat in silence, propping your head up on one of your knees again. "I miss him."

The bat looked at you curiously. You put it and the fruit on your floor, reaching for a framed photograph of yourself and Eddie instead, with his arms slung around you from behind and a smile on his face as you kissed his cheek. You vision blurred as you lifted the photo to your lips and kissed it gently.

"I'd give anything," you said to the bat, staring fixedly at Eddie's happy face, "just to see him again, just for a few minutes. Just to...to get a better goodbye. To kiss him goodbye and hold him and make it as peaceful as possible. To tell him it would be alright. To tell him I love him. To tell him that I miss him. No. No, I wouldn't tell him I miss him, because then that would make him feel guilty, and how can you feel guilty about dying? I mean...it's not his fault." You wiped your eyes. "I'd just...I'd want to make him feel better. Peaceful. I don't...I wish he hadn't gone out the way he did, y'know? In pain. Crying. Knowing what was coming. Having to say goodbye to—to Dustin." You laughed shakily. "Oh, God, Eddie. I'm going insane. I'm talking about you to a bat." You looked down at your feet. "A bat that's now missing in my house. Or maybe he was never there in the first place and I'm just crazy."

"You're not crazy," said his smooth voice, and your head whipped toward the cassette player. Since when was the quality so good? A small chuckle from behind you. You froze. "Wrong way, sweetheart." And two fingers, one marked by a tan line where a ring would have been, slipped under your jaw, turning your head slowly.

His eyes—his sweet, pretty eyes—stared you full in the face. Your eyes took him in, noticing the scars on his face and his hips. You studied him, drinking in every hollow in his gaunt body. But you knew those tattoos. You knew those eyes. You knew that voice.

You blinked rapidly, subtly pinching your arm. He laughing, covering your hand with his own.

"You're naked, Eddie," you said, and you realized seconds after they came out that they were not the words you wanted to be saying. You clapped your hands over your mouth, face heating.

Eddie shrugged. "It's nothing you haven't seen before."

"Eddie, you're..."

"Nope. I'm not."

"Eddie, I was there, I saw you die in Dustin's arms!"

"Nope," he said again, and you could finally hear how tired and haggard he sounded it. "Unfortunately not."

"Unfortunately?!"

He shrugged. "I think being dead would be better than my fate." He pointed to the fruit left on the floor. "That's the first I've eaten in almost three months."

"You— The fruit? You were the bat?!"

He nodded.

"Right, okay, mister, what the fuck?"

He sighed. "So no loving and tearful greeting for the not-dead boyfriend?"

"Eddie. Talk to me. And then maybe I'll cry over you. But I want answers first."

Eddie leaned against you, cuddling his body closer to yours. Automatically, you reached an arm around his shoulders. He made a chirruping sound similar to the sound of the bat he'd been only minutes before. "Truth is, I don't have a lot of answers. All I know is that I died in the Upside Down, then woke up here as a bat. And then I tried to not be a bat, of course, but that didn't help. I just broke my wing. Not sure if that means my arm was broken or...something. I'm sure that'll be an awkward doctor's visit in the future. Point is, once I figured out I couldn't...change form or whatever you wanna call it, I tried to find you, but it's all different when you're a bat. I had to pick up your scent, but I couldn't."

"So that day at the park, by the bathrooms—"

"I'd finally caught sight of you. After that, I figured I should try and stay close. I thought maybe you'd figure out it was me somehow, if I was obvious enough."

"Which is why you always found me at our special places."

Eddie sighed his relief into your shoulder. "Exactly." He wrapped his arms around your waist. "Oh, sweetheart."

You brushed a hand over his hair, your shocked brain not quite realizing that he was really there but already falling back into the routine of your relationship. "So how'd you get human again?"

"Dunno. I think you made me cry and it made me feel human enough to be around you, talking about me and listening to my music." He looked into your eyes. "I do feel guilty. About not being able to tell you sooner that I was still kicking. I...I know it was hard for me, but...I was kind of scatterbrained. I couldn't quite process being alone. But you... You had everything to deal with, all those emotions."

"We'll talk this out in the morning."

"Why not now?"

"Because you're shivering against me. You were a soaked bat about three minutes ago, and now you're a very naked boy again. Let's get you warmed up, okay? I'll run the shower."

Eddie whimpered with relief at your words, clinging to you as you helped him to stand up on wobbly legs. You helped him into your bathroom and shower, joining him to make sure he wouldn't fall on his own. He clung to your arm as the two of you attempted to get him warm and clean.

"Your clothes are soaked now," he mumbled, but still pulled you into a tight hug against his chest.

"I don't really care," you whispered. "I'm holding you again."

When you shut the shower off, you made Eddie sit on the floor as you fetched him clothes.

It wasn't until you'd gathered clothes—all of them his, some of them (like the shirt) given to you by Wayne, but most of them (like the pants and boxers and socks) were from Eddie leaving them behind at your house for the nights he snuck in through your window—that it truly hit you that he was back.

He wasn't just back, he was alive.

Your Eddie.

Alive. Safe. In your bathroom. Home where he belonged.

You dropped the clothes as you fell to the floor, sobbing with relief. Eddie came running into your room, kneeling beside you.

"Sweetheart? What's wrong, what happened? What can I do? Is it me?"

You pulled him closer to you, burying your head into his neck. "Nothing's wrong. Nothing's wrong, Eddie, everything's perfect. Back to the way it should be. You're here."

He wrapped his arms tightly around you. "I'm here," he promised. "I've got you."

You cupped his face in your hands, kissing him softly. He whimpered against your mouth, missing you as much as you missed him. You pressed your forehead to his as he scooped you up and laid you gently on your bed. He pulled away from you, picking up his clothes and pulling them on. He laid beside you, pulling you back into his arms.

"Don't you ever make me think you're dead again, Eddie Munson, you hear?"

He kissed you again, arms sliding around your back. "Loud and clear, sweetheart."

"Good," you whispered into his mouth, "my little bat."

Eddie smiled against your lips. "Not little."

☞ ❊ ☜

Stranger Things // Eddie Munson

Taglist: {comment and let me know if you'd like to be added to the E.M. taglist!} @ohatropa @lilylilyyyyyy

[shandy-and-champagne]

This happened. They told me so.

[rogue-durin-16]

BUT YEARS PASS AND I LOVE YOU THE SAME (part I/II)

Summary: Back in 1986, Y/n broke Eddie's trust and heart. He's on top of the world now, his dreams are coming true, and yet he can't help but wish things had been slightly different. A letter serves him as an excuse to aim for a second chance.

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader

Genre: mostly angst

Tags:

Requested by: @attinaadellaalana @eddiemunsonsluvrrr

Permanent taglist: @elia-the-bibliophile @randomparanoid @karlthecat15722 @thebutchersdaughtersblog @amourtentiaa @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @comfort-reads

Warnings: language, alcohol, let me know if i miss anything

A/N: indulging y'all AND myself so I can write Rockstar!Eddie bc that's what he deserves. Part 2 to the awfully angsty fic I wrote because my best friend made me fix it. Lots of pov jumps but it's necessary bc you need to see BOTH SIDES. Next part will be *spicy* so beware. Okay that's all, enjoy <3

Prequel: Liar. Traitor. Backstabber.

Sequel: but years pass and I love you the same (II/II)

Rogue-durin-16 masterlist

October 10, 1990, NYC

Knockknockknockknockknock!

Ding-dong!

"Oh, Jesus Christ—" a gutural, tortured groan escaped my lungs at the piercing sound of someone knocking on the hotel suite's door, both my hands instinctively pressing the pillow to my ears in an attempt to muffle the piercing noise. "Gareth, get the fucking door!"

"You get the fucking door!" The drummer snapped back from somewhere on the bathroom floor.

Ding-dong! Ding-dong!

"I'm coming! Hold up! Goddamnit..." After untangling myself from both ridiculously expensive bedsheets and the limbs of some random groupie that ended up joining us after our last show, I made my way to the entrance.

The corridor's light was too bright for my hungover state, I thought after opening the door, shielding my eyes with my forearm.

"Mr. Munson—"

"Shit no, nonono." I waved a hand at our manager's assistant at the sight of an envelope. "No fan mail the morning after the concert, man. Can't think straight, let alone read."

"It's not fan mail, it's— it's from Hawkins, Indiana." It took my lethargic brain a moment too long to process the words. "Marla said you'd like to—"

Sobered up in a matter of seconds, I snatched the letter away from the assistant's unsure hands. My feet carried my tuned out self back into the suite while I ripped it open, my palm searching in the dark behind me to switch on the lights —to everyone's dismay— so I could read it.

I felt my heart sinking with discontent once my eyes skimmed the text.

'Dear Edward Munson,

Congratulations on your first World Tour. I write to you in hopes that you and your band may be able to revisit your hometown and play at Hawkins High School's football field on the 27th of October. All the money will be donated to blah blah blah...'

It was hilarious. Hawkins's mayor asking us to come back and help that damn town. A part of me wanted to go for shits and giggles. Definitely not because I missed the girl that ruined me.

Yeah, shits and giggles. That's what pushed me to postpone the last two concerts of the tour.

October 20, 1990, Hawkins

READER'S P. O. V.

"Soooo did you hear?"

I sighed, not bothering to peel off my furrowed gaze from the filing cabinet full of students' records I had just finished reorganizing to stare at the hyperenergized Robin that had just burst into my office.

'Did you hear?'; if only I had a penny for every time I had, in fact, heard that week...

"I don't know, Robin. Probably just like ten fucking times today." I retorted with venomous sarcasm as I spun around to grab my bag from my chair.

"Way to talk to the woman who's kindly driving you home." She quipped, toying with her car keys while we exited the room.

"Sorry, okay? I just..." I pursed my lips, taking a moment while I locked the office to think. "I'm glad he's back. I'm glad you guys get to see him. I just don't wanna hear anything about it." I adjusted the strap of my back on my shoulder, following Robin's lead to the parking lot. "It's bad enough having to partake in the welcoming committee bullshit."

"What exactly happened between you two anyway?" She questioned, electric blue eyes squinted at me. "Like, was it thaaat bad? It's been four years and you're still pressed."

"Told you it was a bad break up— Listen," I halted my steps to turn to Robin with pleading eyes. "can we not talk about it?" After a moment of hesitation, she gave me a quick nod. "With any luck, I'll just meet him before the concert and then we'll part ways again."

With any luck. Ha. As if a part of me didn't ache to see him again, to talk to him, to touch him, to feel him; as if my heart hadn't momentarily stopped beating when Hawkins High staff was informed that they would have to be preparing the football field for a Corroded Coffin fundraising show.

October 26, 1990, Hawkins

EDDIE'S P. O. V.

"Okay— Y'know what? Just fucking drop me here." I scowled, flinging the van's door open before our chauffeur got the chance to pump the breaks.

"Eddie, c'mon! Really?" Jeff called in disbelief, though he didn't bother on trying to stop me when I jumped off the vehicle and shut its door.

The road to our hometown hadn't been the best time for the band; constant arguing and clapbacks were commonplace since our plane had landed in Indianapolis. The closer we were to Hawkins, the worse it got.

Maybe this wasn't a good idea.

I lit myself a cigarette while my feet carried me through the forest, shortening the route to Hawkins.

First thing I passed by was the cemetery.

Before boarding the plane, I made a mental note of the people I wanted to visit after the show —given that we would stay three days—, but I was already there. I found myself walking to Chrissy's grave even before I fully decided on it.

Seeing the sweet cheerleader's headstone was what it took for me to realize how much of a mistake coming back had been.

Fuck this town, they don't deserve you.

It almost sounded like Y/n. Almost, because it had been a bit too long since I heard her voice.

As soon as I had walked into the graveyard, I was out, absentmindedly resuming my walk to the trailer park —except, I didn't really go to the trailer park. No, I took the long way, which forced me to cross a thankfully not very crowded Hawkins High parking lot. Due to the time of the day, only the staff's cars remained parked, and even them were beginning to drive away.

I wasn't ready to see her —not yet—, but the universe had always had a funny way of twisting my wishes, so there she was, crossing the highschool doorway with a ginger I recognized as Robin's girl.

God, I hated her. I hated the way my heart raced at the mere sight of her. I hated how she made my breath hitch and my feet freeze because she looked as breathtaking as ever, even when her small smile was feigned and her shoulders were slightly slumped.

She was sad. Good.

And then she bid the redhead goodbye to join a slim man with a sunny disposition, and her fake smile grew into more of a content beam while the two walked to a shared car, laughing. He placed his hand on the small of her back and I felt the urge to look away.

Swallowing the lump in my throat, I turned heel and left. A part of me expected her to... What? Wait for me? but why? I had been the one to cut contact for good, I had been the one to leave her —us— behind, and yet I had hoped for Y/n to welcome me with open arms. I had always been fucking stupid when it came to her.

Naturally, after leaving the parking lot, I came across Motel 6. The memories I had there didn't help the ache of my still broken heart.

Why did I have to miss her so much?

Tears prickled my eyes at the memory of our last night together, leaning in silence on that rusty railing while we prorogued our final goodbye.

The chilly Autumn Sun had set behind Hawkins' treetops by the time I arrived at the trailer park. It felt odd to be back.

It felt even odder when my uncle, who I anticipated to be working at the plant on a Friday evening, opened the our trailer's door and engulfed me in a hug.

The little 'Welcome home, Eddie' he whispered into the embrace was what pushed me over the edge; without warning, I was crying on his shoulder, cradling his flannel shirt like I was a lost twelve year old kid all over again.

October 27, 1990, Hawkins

READER'S P. O. V.

Friday had been torture. Saturday was a blur —at least until the principal walked the empty highschool halls with mayor Phillips, a brunette woman in her early forties, a couple of bodyguards, and the members of the band.

Although years hadn't changed them, they seemed different; stylish, successful, important. Eddie led the group, chitchatting with both their manager and the mayor, one of his hands gesticulating animatedly while the other remained on the guitar strap crossing his chest.

Fuck, he looked good. He looked so good.

"—And this is the kind personnel that will show you around." The principal's voice mentioning our names to the band brought me back to reality. "This is Marla Hammerstein, Corroded Coffin's manager."

There was a round of polite 'nice to meet you's while Marla shook everyone's hands that didn't quite reach my ears, and those big brown eyes were to blame —those deep dark irises, flooded with sadness and something more, that found my own like magnets.

Soon enough, the band members were being led to the football field, as if they hadn't spent their school years wandering those same halls.

"—Yup, right there," Vikkie animatedly bobbed her head at Marla, pointing at the bathroom we had set for the performers before making us all come to a stop in front of what was the drama club, unlatching the door to show our guests the inside. "and we improvised a little greenroom in here because—"

"Wait, here?" My breath got caught up in my throat when I felt Eddie's chest against my back, his ring clad hand coming to rest at the doorframe, right by my face. "Huh."

"Yup, why?"

I felt his ribs thrum with an amused laugh, as he subtly bent forward into me. "Nothing, I just think everything 'bout this is fucking hilarious. Right, Ms. Y/l/n?" I gulped at his bitter inquiry, muttering a quiet 'right' as a reply. "Alright, let's get this over with, shall we?" He breathed out near my ear, pushing himself back with the help of his supporting palm, triggering an involuntary whine out of me at the lost of touch.

Something told me Eddie was purposefully torturing me —that something being how he stayed glued to my back, constantly hovering over my form while spitting scathing remarks that could be easily masked as dry humor. It was as if he himself didn't know how to feel about having me around again.

A part of me was genuinely happy when the show began, because that meant I was allowed to leave.

Had things been slightly different, I would be standing in the front row, headbanging to Corroded Coffin's agressive music led by Eddie's beautiful voice, but that's just not how it was, so instead of screaming the lyrics in the crowd, I found myself driving home. Then, maybe, I would walk to a bar in hopes of drinking my pain away.

For better or for worse, I didn't give much thought to which would be the bar in particular.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

EDDIE'S P. O. V.

Saying I was sharp-tempered after the show would be an understatement. I myself could barely put up with my behavior, so hanging out with the band would have been selfish at the very least.

That's why, for the first time in forever, I didn't stick with them after a gig, choosing to fly on my own and search for a quiet place to have a drink.

And what could be quieter and more fitting for my visit than the least frequented bar in Hawkins —the same bar where we had started playing?

The Hideout wasn't what it used to be. It was surprisingly crowded, and had a refreshed, more expensive vibe to it; Guns N' Roses was playing in the background while people danced in the middle of the establishment. As I got closer to the bar counter, I saw a framed picture of us hanging on the wall with a little inscription below; 'where Corroded Coffin was born'.

"Pffft." I snorted, propping my forearms on the wooden surface. "That's cute. Hey Al!" I called for the bartender with a cheeky grin, enjoying his shock at the sight of me. "Would you be so kind to get me a good ol' beer?"

"Anything for you, Eddie."

"Put it on my tab, Al." My blood ran cold at Y/n's listless voice coming from my left.

After a very much needed minute to compose myself and not look like a fucking deer caught in headlights, I turned my head to the girl, who gave me a small, almost timid wave. I nodded in her direction as a response before returning my attention to the bartender, who was currently serving me the drink.

"How was the show?"

"You didn't stay?" I tried not to sound upset about it, but given Y/n's sorry eyes, I didn't do a very good job.

"Thought you wouldn't want me there." She was half lying, I could see it in the way she averted her eyes from me to stare at her glass, almost empty, sitting in front of her.

"It was okay, I think." I chose to respond to her question, rather than delve into her last sentence. "Very surreal, though. You know, playing in Hawkins, it's just- it's just awkward? I mean,"

Oh no. I felt something coming that hadn't happened to me in years; anxiety fueled word vomit.

"Half of them were chasing me with pitchforks and torches just a couple of years ago. You know Andy? Andy from basketball team? Andy the fucking asshole who tried to beat me up with a crowbar? He came after the show to tell me our songs rocked." I breathed out a nervous laugh, riping a half smile from Y/n, one that my eyes could barely catch due to her temple resting on her right knuckles.

"That's one bizarre experience." She commented, twirling her drink.

"Speaking of bizarre," I scooted to the left, telling myself it was to avoid nosey ears and not to be closer to her. "how's... work?"

Y/n clicked her tongue. "Can't tell you."

"So you're still active." The girl subtly nodded, finally dropping her right hand and allowing me to see her gaze, mildly illuminated by the neon lights in the establishment. "I see you kept your job at the counseling department."

"Ms Kelley was transferred, so I actually got promoted." She clarified, taking a sip of her drink.

"That's great." I stated, searching for a topic to hold onto. Counseling. Highschool. Highschoolers. Got it. "I saw, uhh, Max Mayfield yesterday. She's so grown, what the fuck."

Y/n snorted. "Have you seen Dustin and the others?"

"Not yet."

"They're like... Little men. Not so little." Y/n scrunched her nose, gaze fixed on the bottles displayed before us while she probably pictured the party. "They make me feel old."

I couldn't help but snicker at the dramatism of the statement. "They make you feel old, at the blooming age of 24—"

"25." She corrected me, finally meeting my eyes with a tight-lipped smile.

I stayed silent for a hot second, time hitting me like a heavy rock. "25. Forgot your birthday was last week."

"I wasn't expecting you to remember." Although she tried to mask it as a joke, I caught on the sincerity of her words. "Rockstar duties and all, must be hard to keep track of mundane things."

"Nothing 'bout you is mundane." I blurted out before my mind could stop my mouth. Catching her gaze was a losing game, I found out, so I moved a bit closer until our thighs were brushing and nudged her. "Except your taste in music."

"Ouch! That's a low blow." She complained, taking a hand to her chest before looking up at me once more. "You love Blondie thanks to me."

"I never said I loved Blondie."

"Yes you did!"

"Well I only said I loved Blondie 'cause I lov—"

Stop. The open smile that had so beautifully graced her face for a few seconds was substituted by the same scared expression that twisted mine.

I gulped, choosing to look away and take a long swig of my beer.

"Are you seeing someone?" I couldn't find it in me to meet her furrowed visage after asking the question. "I'm just asking 'cause yesterday I spotted you at the parking lot. Kinda wanted to go say hi but, uhm, you weren't alone."

"Meh." Y/n, whose upper body had leant over the counter in hopes to face me, retreated to her original position. "His name's Carl."

"Okay." Okay. I lost my chance. Great.

"He's from work."

"From which work?"

"The boring one." She joked, trying to defuse the renewed tension among us. "He's a stand-in science teacher in middle school."

"So he's just a boooring nerd." I let waved my fingers before our eyes, trying and failing to make my comment sound funny and not resentful.

"Not everyone can date a rockstar." She chuckled, and for some reason that fueled my rancour.

"You could've, but you had to fuck it up."

Silence. She stared at me for a long second with unreadable eyes that made me internally squirm.

"Okay. I'm just..." Gonna go. Instead of completing the sentence, she grabbed her wallet and slid a couple of bills to Al before standing up.

"Wait!" Spinning around fast enough to give myself whiplash, I took a hold of the hem of Y/n's jacket. "Wait. I'm sorry, that was uncalled for. I just—" I huffed, letting go of her bomber to run my fingers through my locks. "It's a lot."

"What's a lot?"

"You. This. I don't know!" My voice turned high pitched, hands raised in surrender.

There was a silence between us, filled with the sound of intoxicated people laughing and some Iron Maiden song.

"You shouldn't have come back, Eddie. You seem lost here." There was pain in her voice and a sad gloss on her eyes. "I'm going home now."

My fingers immediately wrapped around her wrist, not quite enclosing it. "Let me drive you?" She pondered her options with pursed lips, averting her gaze when I took a step closer and leaned on. "Please."

Her palm came up to rest on my chest and by God I died. "I don't wanna ruin your night."

"Yeah, cause I was having a blast until now." I managed to joke, trying my best keep at bay the need to kiss her. "I'll just drop you off and leave."

"Alright." A sigh of defeat escaped her parted lips, eyes fixed on her fingers, toying with a loose thread belonging to my vest. "C'mon, rockstar." She whispered, dragging her digits down my chest to my upper abdomen to interlace them with my own, her eyes flickering at my face through her lashes before leading me out.

READER'S P. O. V.

The ride was quiet, yes, but not at all comfortable. I was constantly shifting on the passenger's seat, doing anything and everything to avoid looking at Eddie, who gripped the steering wheel in an attempt to ground himself.

"Here." I broke the stifling silence when we were about to drive past my house, just in time for Eddie to pull up right before it.

"So you're a true Hawkins citizen now." Eddie commented at the sight of my new home. "Suburban house and all."

"Gotta play and look the part."

"Right. Uhm—"

"Thanks for the ride." I cursed myself for cutting him off, but there was little I could do to stop my mouth from running loose out of anxiety.

"Yeah, no worries."

Just get out of the car, I ordered myself. Don't look at him, just get out.

But I looked at him. I looked at the way his body fell on the backrest, eyes fixed on the boring road and tongue trapped between his lips; one of his hands still held onto the steering wheel for dear life while the other's fingertips drummed on his thigh, shaky due to the anxious tapping of his foot.

The scene looked very reminiscing of that first night he had driven me to the motel, back in December of '86. We had stayed still in his beat up van for what felt like an eternity, waiting in an anticipating silence begging to be broken until I had invited him into the room.

That moment was all too familiar —too tempting. And he looked way too beautiful after way too much time apart from each other. Seeing him in TV shredding his guitar, shouting the lyrics of his songs, had nothing on sitting by his side again.

His cautious eyes hesitated for a split second before daring to meet mine. I knew then that Eddie wouldn't be driving off, not that night.

"Wanna..." I cleared my throat, pointing at the front door of my new house. "Wanna come in?"

[toomanyfandomsimfanvergent]

Hurt/comfort with Robin Buckley? Maybe you get hurt out in the snow and she panics or something idkkk I just love jer

Thank you! I have been wanting to write some Robin x Reader!

And, as always, my requests are open! I do write for quite a few characters so check my pinned post for details!

Robin Buckley x Reader

It was the middle of December. Over the last few weeks the snow had been shitty. All it did was make it difficult, and sometimes impossible, to drive. But, after all that time it was finally good playing snow.

It did not matter that you were technically an adult. You loved playing in the snow . So did your girlfriend, Robin. She loved the snow more than you had thought.

"YN," Robin yells and you see she was rolling a snowman. You giggle as you walk over to her and help her push it.

"I think it's getting to big," you say to your red faced girlfriend. She looks so cute with flushed cheeks and a red nose. The snow giving her a nice flush.

"Find," she grumbles as she makes a snow ball for the middle part. After an hour or so, you and your lover we're just running around in the snow. Having made a snow family, and even using all of the food dye in your house to make them rainbow, you were both freezing. Neither one of you would be the first to go in.

You squeal as you are hit with a snow ball in the face. You brush the cold off of your face as another hits your shoulder. You turn around to see your lover, clearly amused with herself, with a pile of snowballs in her arms.

You scoff as she throws a few more. "how childish," she smiles. You knew her answer was going to be a fun one.

"Says the one who made the snowman's bright rainbow," Robin chides and you feel the familiar cold of getting hit in the face.

"It's gay Robin," you decide. She laughs at your joke. You had both been dating for almost a year; a whole year; before anybody found out. And it was only because you were making out at Steve's. It was risky (and you got caught) but it was funny.

Steve was shocked, he only knew Robin was gay. So he had been hitting on you for a while. Robin still uses it as blackmail. Anytime she wants a different movie than Steve, 'you hit on my girlfriend' is brought up.

You reach for a handful of snow to throw back but pull your hand back with a hiss. You see some blood in the snow and a little piece of an aluminum can that got mowed over.

"Y/N? Are you okay?" As concerned as ever, Robin let's out something between a squeak and a gaso when she sees the blood. Oh, shit. You apply pressure and begin to walk to the house.

"YN, are you okay? Oh, my god. What if get tetanus? That is my second highest fear. I don't think you show signs immediately though. Do you have a fever yet? I think that's the first sign," Robin rambles as you smile and open the door.

"I'm fine, I've had my shots," you remind as you both ditch the winter gear and robin grabs the first aid kit.

"That's what Steve said about rabies from those bats!" Robin says with a look of pure horror as she begins to clean your finger.

"Baby, Steve didn't get rabies," you remind. She was going to freak the fuck out. It was robin, you loved her; she could be a bit much sometimes.

"Oh shit, sorry," she mumbles as you hiss from the feeling of antiseptic. She quickly dabs and wraps your finger with a sigh of relief.

"All done," she says and kisses your finger before wrapping you up in a big hug, "I was so scared," she whispers into your hair.

"Hey, nothing will ever happen to me as long as I have you," you remind and pull back enough to kiss her head.