#strnager things

Me too mike

Summary: You and your best friend Robin go on a road trip and are confronted with your feelings for each other.

Pairings: Robin Buckley x Fem reader

Warnings: Smut !! (oral and fingering)

word count: 1.8k

first fic kinda nervous hehehe

Steve Harington x Buckly!Reader

Summary- (Set in season four) Robins sister from out of town pays her and her mom and visit. She comes by where Robin works "The Movie Rental Store." and thats where Steve finds love at first sight (Reader is the total opposite of robin (loves pink, gentle, soft spoken.)

Context/warnings- Teasing, sweet, fluff, swearing, love at first sight. Cute love story

A/n- I know this is super cringe love story but let me know if you want a part two loves! (Also not proof read)

You and robin have never been the same, very different and polar opposite of each other. You think that’s why you two are so close. Robin was very sarcastic, sharp intelligence, witty and has a lack of flitter. You were very sweet and quiet, keep to your self, soft spoken and was just over all very girly. Visting your mom and your sister every other week from staying at your dad’s house qas the best decision you have ever made.

Ever second with them was better then the next. Everyone laughing and enjoying themselves. Your mom had told you robin got a job at a movie rental place just downtown so you decided to bring her lunch and a visit. Before you went into the store you pull down your visor and apply some more pink sugar lip gloss. You turn off the car, get out and smooth out your little light pink dress that was strapless so it showed more of your upper boob than anything. You look down at your feet the light pink little ballet flats really tie the look all together you think to your self.

You open the door to the movie rental place, the smell of plastic and cologne fill your noise you have your sisters lunch in your hand ready to give to her and as you start walking .CRASH. Oh no you ran into one of the empoloys who was caring a bunch of movies. Your eyes immediately look for the name tag and it read Steve. You look up at him and before you can even speak he says something first. "I'm sorry I should have watched where I was going, I guess I was too distracted by your beauty." The smirk on his face was playfully.

You where taken aback by this mans words without even thinking you start to blush. "I'm sorry, I was in your way let me help you clean up." You said with her gentle soft spoken voice. The lunch for robin that you brought was somewhere on the ground but still in the cute pink lunch tote you got her. You start to pick up the movies and so dose Steve intill you two grab the same one and your hands touch and that leads him to say. "I don't think I have ever seen you around here and trust I would know if a pretty girl like you came in here." He said with that dumb sly smirk. You look up at. him as you finish picking the last movie. "Actually um I visit my mom and my sister every other week."

He looked you up and down and there was this feeling in your stomach that made you want to throw yourself at this man you just meet. "Well how about I take you out one of these weeks I will give you my number an-" before Steve could say anything more Robin came out of the employ's only room. "Dingus you better not be flirting with her thats my sister." She said coming towards the both of you, the store empty with no costumers as usual. and Steve looked like he had seen a ghost.

He turned to you and said "Thats your sister, Robin Buckley." he said shocked. Robin rolled her eyes at her dumb best friend. "Yeah she is my sister you dumbass." Robin said and you gave Steve a gentle smile. "Its fine Robin Steve is actually really sweet." You said as you figet with your French tip fingernails. Steve smiled back at you, god he never believed in love at first sight, he thought it was just made up shit. He can't believe he is falling for his best friends sister and he just meet her.

"well actually I was just about to get her number, Robin so if you don't mind me." He said always with that smirk he had on his face. Robin turned her head at you and mouthed "No" but you gave her a gentle smile handing her, her lunch and turned back to Steve, as you give him your dads house number and your moms house number. "You probably already have my moms because apparently your bets friends with my sister. Which by the way I have never heard her being you up before, but I wish she did sooner."

You said batting your eyelashes up at him. Steve just wanted to melt just by the look of you, you looked and acted nothing like Robin. You where his dream girl, Steve being the hopeless romantic was already planning wedding dates and childrens names in his head. "Hey uh I never got your name." He said softy looking over to see if Robin was looking at them and she sure was as she was scanning in new movies. "Uh its Y/n Buckley." You said with a smile on you face.

I think I really like Eddie in red

updated Eddie WIP, just starting to put down base colors! (I am gonna go crazy cleaning up line art)

Chapter Ten: The Steadiness of Him.

Summary: Things started feeling different after the kiss, the usual heaviness that seemed to follow you every morning has lightened into something more comfortable, along with the fear of letting someone truly see you. For once, things seem like they’re getting better, and you can finally find the path to healing.

Pairing: Eddie Munson & Hargrove Fem!Reader

Tags: Heavily Detailed, Dialogue, Sisterly Bonds, Family Dynamics, Healing, Emotional Vulnerability, Slow-Burn, Emotionally Focused, Fluff, Comfort, Mutual Affection, Kissing, Cringe but Sweet Eddie.

Word Count: 10.7k.

Previous | Next | S.Masterlist

The trailer is quieter than it usually is. There isn’t any of the aching quietness that settles when the world feels too loud and you’re hiding from it. This is a softer type of quiet, the kind that hums gently like it’s singing a melody instead of demanding anything from you.

Sunlight filters through the thin curtains in pale, honey-colored stripes, warming the edge of the bed where you’re still half curled beneath the blankets. Dust motes drift lazily in the air, catching the light, moving slow enough that you can track them with sleepy eyes. For a moment, you don’t move. You just breathe.

Then it hits you that the space beside you is empty.

The bed dips back into its original shape, the sheets smoothed where Eddie had been. His warmth is gone now, replaced by cool cotton and the faintest ghost of his presence, leather, cigarette smoke, coffee, something undeniably him. It lingers in the pillow, in the blanket tangled around your legs, in the air itself.

You turn your head slightly, stupidly expecting to find him there anyway. Expecting to see messy curls and sleep-soft eyes, his arm slung lazily over your waist like it belongs there.

But he’s gone, not for good. Just gone home.

There’s a difference, and you know it. Still, your chest tightens, a muscle memory response you’ve never quite been able to unlearn. Your body does it before your mind can catch up, like it’s bracing itself and preparing for the familiar drop in your stomach that usually follows closeness.

Except this time it doesn’t fall.

You swallow, blinking slowly as you stare at the ceiling, the faint water stain you’ve memorized over the months shaped vaguely like a crooked star. Your fingers curl into the blanket instead of clutching at it.

Nothing feels the same, and for once, that realization doesn’t terrify you. It settles gently within you, like a truth you’ve been circling for a long time but never let yourself touch.

Nothing will feel the same again, and you don’t want it to.

You sit up slowly, the blanket slipping down your arms, the cool air of the trailer brushing against your skin. Your body feels different, lighter in some places, heavier in others. There’s a warmth in your chest that hasn’t faded with sleep, a soft ache beneath your ribs that pulses every time your mind drifts back to last night.

The kiss.

You squeeze your eyes shut for a moment, exhaling through your nose. You can still feel it if you let yourself, Eddie’s hesitation, the way he waited, the way his lips barely touched yours at first like he was asking permission without words. The softness of it, the patience.

The way he didn’t take, the way he offered.

You press your fingers to your mouth, to ground yourself, to remind yourself that it was real. That it happened and that you didn’t imagine it or dream it into existence the way you’ve done with other almosts in your life.

You let someone in, and that thought comes quietly, without accusation.

Your throat tightens as you swing your legs over the edge of the bed, bare feet pressing against the ground. The floor creaks softly under your weight as you move through the morning slowly, like you’re afraid sudden movements might shatter something fragile inside you.

You make coffee out of habit and stand by the counter while it brews, staring out the small kitchen window at the quiet street beyond. It’s early enough that Hawkins hasn’t fully woken yet. No cars or voices, just birds perched on power lines and the low hum of the refrigerator behind you.

Your mind drifts, uninvited, the way it always does when things feel too still.

It drifts to the thought of Billy first, and your chest tightens. It’s not sharp or violent, but it aches with a dull familiarity of shattered memories disguised as affection. Of overprotectiveness and arguments mistaken for the care of an older brother, of being cared for in a way that made you feel small and trapped.

Then, it drifts to your father.

The inconsistency, and the way his presence was never guaranteed. The way you learned early on that people could say they’d stay and still disappear. The way abandonment didn’t always look dramatic and sometimes it looked like silence, distance, absence that crept in so slowly you didn’t notice until it had already hollowed you out.

Those lessons carved themselves into you quietly and taught you how to keep parts of yourself locked away. How to accept that loneliness was safer than disappointment, and how easy it was to mistake independence for protection.

You’ve lived by those rules for a long time.

You pour coffee into a chipped mug and wrap both hands around it, letting the heat seep into your palms. The warmth anchors you to the present as another truth rises, gentle but insistent.

Eddie doesn’t make you feel like that, and the realization comes with a small hitch in your breath.

He didn’t rush you or crowd you, and he doesn’t demand more than what you’re ready to give. Even after the kiss, especially after the kiss, he’d stayed exactly where he was. Grounded and steady, like he wasn’t afraid that if he didn’t grab onto you tight enough, you’d disappear.

Like he trusted that you wouldn’t.

Your shoulders dropped slightly, the tension you didn’t realize you were carrying easing just a bit. You lean back against the counter, mug pressed to your chest now, eyes unfocused as you replay his voice in your head.

His words replay in your head, there wasn’t any dramatics or grand promise, no vows whispered like they were fragile glass. It was just the truth, and somehow, that scares you the most, because you believe him.

You walk back into your room after a while, the coffee forgotten on the counter. The bed looks the same as it did when you left it, unmade, sheets tangled, and pillow slightly indented on the side he slept on. You hesitate in the doorway, heart thudding a little faster, then step inside.

You sit on the edge of the bed and let your hand fall where Eddie’s had been hours ago. The fear you expect doesn’t come, just the quiet sadness, not because he’s gone, but because something important has shifted and you can’t go back to who you were before it did.

You trusted someone, and that alone feels monumental.

Your fingers curl into the blanket as you stare at the floor, thoughts spiraling softly. Trust has always felt like standing too close to the edge of something high, something beautiful but dangerous as the fall was always lurking in the back of your mind.

You’ve learned to keep one foot planted firmly on solid ground, but last night, you stepped forward and the ground didn’t give out beneath you.

You think about Eddie leaving later last night, about how he’d lingered at the door like he didn’t quite want to go. How he’d kissed your forehead instead of your mouth this time, like he was reminding you that there was no pressure or expectations. How he’d smiled at you like staying was a choice, not an obligation.

How he’d left and you didn’t feel abandoned.

Your chest aches now, not painfully, but deeply. You press your hand flat over your heart, breathing through it. Maybe this is what safety feels like, no certainty or guarantees, just consistency and space to breathe.

You lie back slowly, staring up at the ceiling again, the same crooked star watching over you. You think about the way Eddie had looked at you, like he saw all of you. Not just the parts you allow, not just the quiet girl, or the guarded one, or the one who keeps her pain neatly tucked away.

He saw all of it, and still stayed.

Your eyes burn unexpectedly, tears welling before you can stop them. One slips free, tracing a warm line down your temple into your hair. You don’t wipe it away, you let yourself soak in the feeling.

The vulnerability doesn’t crush you the way it used to. It doesn’t swallow you whole, it just rests there like a tender ache. A reminder that you’re alive, that you care, that you’re capable of wanting something again.

You don’t know what happens next.

You don’t know how to do this or how to let someone love you without waiting for the moment it disappears. You don’t know how to quiet the voice in the back of your head that still whispers be careful.

But you know that you don’t want to close yourself off again, that you don’t want to retreat into the familiar loneliness that once felt like protection. You want this, the softness, the uncertainty, and the risk.

You want Eddie.

The room is still quiet, still warm, still safe, and for the first time in a long time, you let yourself imagine a future that doesn’t end in loss. One where closeness doesn’t come with strings attached, one where love doesn’t feel like something you have to survive.

After a couple more minutes of silence, you finally lift yourself from the blankets, swinging your legs over the mattress. Your movements weren’t sluggish or reluctant as you walked toward your dresser. They were natural and easy, like you warmly accepted the weight of the morning, for once the thought of today’s responsibilities didn’t chain you down.

You pulled on a pair of jeans, then reached for the red sweater folded over the chair in the corner of the room. It was soft from being washed too many times, slightly oversized as the sleeves slipped past your wrist as you tugged it over your head. You grabbed the old Converse, sitting on the edge of the bed as you laced them up.

When you stood up, you noticed yourself in the mirror. You didn’t look drastically different, but you looked lighter. Your eyes didn’t have that hollow and distant look they usually carried in the morning, there was color in your face again, and a softness in your expression that hadn’t been there in months.

A soft knock hits your door, pulling you from your thoughts. “Are you awake?” Max’s voice called through the thin wood.

“Yeah, hold on.” You replied, grabbing your keys from the dresser. “I’m coming out now.”

When you stepped into the living room, the smell of coffee lingered faintly in the air. Susan stood at the kitchen counter, mug in hand, already dressed for work. Max was sitting at the table, half-leaning on one elbow as she fiddled with the zipper of her backpack.

They both looked up at the same time when you walked in, both of them pausing as they started. Susan’s eyes flickered over your presence, then back to your face. She didn’t say anything, but something in her expression softened, like she was trying to figure out what had changed.

Max wasn’t subtle at all, she narrowed her eyes and looked over you with a questioning gaze. “Why do you look like that?” Max asked bluntly.

You blinked, head tilting slightly in confusion. “Like what?”

“Like…” Max gestured vaguely at you. “I don’t know. Like you didn’t hate waking up today.”

You laughed before you could stop yourself, and that was the moment both of them really noticed, because that laugh wasn’t forced. It wasn’t tired or the small, polite sound you usually made when you didn’t have the energy for anything more.

It was real.

“I don’t hate waking up today, I guess.” You admitted softly.

Susan’s gaze lingered on you for a moment, searching for something, but didn’t pry. She just gave the smallest nod, like she was quietly relieved, and turned back toward the counter.

“You’re smiling,” Max said.

You reached for a piece of toast from the plate on the table. “I smile sometimes.”

“Not before coffee,” Max replied immediately.

You rolled your eyes, but the smile didn’t leave your face. “Yeah, I had coffee earlier. Woke up earlier than my alarm.”

Max hums, slightly unconvinced but dropping it for now. “Whatever you say.”

The three of you ate quickly, just a simple breakfast, like cereal or toast before leaving the dishes in the sink. The morning felt calm and quiet in a way that it hasn’t lately, there was no tension or discomfort. It was just peaceful, like the silence didn’t feel like it had to be filled, and it was allowed to be comfortable enough to sit in.

After breakfast, Max quickly grabbed her things and followed you out to the car. The cold morning air brushed against your cheeks, but you didn’t feel the usual tightness in your shoulders as you unlocked the doors.

Max climbs into the passenger seat, tossing her bookbag on the ground between her feet as the engine rumbles to life, faint music from the radio joining soon after. The drive was quiet at first, mirroring the soft morning commute, roads still empty as everyone in town was most likely just waking up.

Your hands held the steering wheel lightly, tapping against the wheel in the same rhythm as the music playing in the background, occasionally letting yourself hum along to the music.

Max watched you, not constantly but enough to notice a slight difference in your posture today. She watched you with those sideways glances like she was trying to figure something out with the puzzle pieces in front of her.

After a few minutes, Max finally speaks up. “So, what happened?” She asked.

You glance over at her for a second, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “What do you mean?

“You’re different today. Where’d my sister go?” Max asked, not trying to sound accusing or suspicious, she just sounded curious.

“I don’t know. I just feel okay lately.” You said quietly, a small smile tugging at your lips.

Max studied you for a moment, eyes narrowing slightly. “You never say that. Not since summer.”

You went quiet for a second, eyes widened slightly at her words because Max was right. Ever since the summer, you’ve never truthfully admitted that you feel okay. It’s always things like ‘I’m fine’ or ‘I’m just tired’ in ways that meant you were never really fine.

Except for today.

“I know. I feel okay today.” You repeated again.

Max leaned back in her seat, still watching you with curious eyes. “Did something happen?”

Your fingers tightened around the steering wheel, because something did happen, but it wasn’t something you could easily explain. It wasn’t a single moment, or the kiss. It was everything that came with it, the trust, the comfort, and the way your chest didn’t feel like it was constantly bracing itself for the worst.

You glanced at Max again, eyes softened for a second before turning back to the road. “Have you ever had a day where you just wake up and things don’t feel as heavy?” You asked, but the question was the answer itself.

Max thought about it, humming lightly in consideration. “Sometimes. When I have a good day with Lucas. Or after hanging out with my friends.” She replies.

“Yeah. Kind of like that.” You said to Max.

Max tilted her head slightly. “So you had a good day yesterday?”

You smiled softly, nodding your head at her question. “Yeah. I did.”

“Does this have to do with Eddie?” Max asks directly, already knowing the answer to her question.

You almost laugh at how direct she was. “Why do you say that?”

Max shrugged. “You only get that look when you talk about him.”

“What look?”

“That one,” Max said. “Like you’re thinking about something good and trying not to smile about it.”

You didn’t even realize you did, but Max noticed anyway and so did everyone else. “Yeah, I guess I do.” You admit with a soft hum.

“You trust him, don’t you?” Max asks, the question catching you off guard enough to make you hesitate.

You don’t answer right away, giving yourself time to think about it. You thought about how easy it felt to be around him and how you never felt like you had to protect yourself from him.

“Yeah, I do.” You admit, voice suddenly shaky with emotion.

Max nodded slowly, like that confirmed something she had already suspected. “That’s why you’re different.” She commented.

Your eyebrows furrow together, before glancing at her with a questioning gaze. “And how would you know that?”

“Because you look happier. You don’t look like you’re waiting for something bad to happen.” Max replies with a faint shrug. “You’re my sister. I’ve never seen you so… you.”

You could feel your chest tighten at her words, not truly realizing how much Max saw and the depth of how she carried it. “You’re right, I am happier because of him.” You admit to Max, slowly breaking away the walls you’ve built.

“Good. You deserve it, y’know?”

“You deserve it too, Max.”

After a comfortably quiet drive, you pulled into the school parking lot. The building was already buzzing with crowds of students walking in, along with the sound of laughter as they found their friends in the crowd.

You pulled by the entrance doors, putting the car in park before turning toward Max. “Have a good day, okay?” You said gently.

“You too,” Max replied, grabbing her bookbag and reaching for the door handle. She paused for a second, turning to you. “I like this version of you.”

A small laugh spilled over your lips, smiling at her comment. “Yeah? I like her too.”

Max grinned, then hopped out of the car and jogged toward the school doors, finding Dustin and Lucas waiting by the front for her.

You sat there for a moment after Max left, hands resting on the steering wheel as you focused on the steady sound of her breathing. For once, the weight of everything didn’t seem suffocating, and it started looking manageable again.

You put the car back in drive, pulling out of the school’s parking lot and heading toward the shopping plaza of Family Video. During the drive, you realized something, the thought almost making you feel shy.

You didn’t feel like this because of the newfound relationship with Eddie, or the kiss. Everything felt like this because you finally believed someone when they said they weren’t going anywhere.

And somehow, that had changed everything.

⏔⏔⏔ ꒰ ᧔ෆ᧓ ꒱ ⏔⏔⏔

The drive from Hawkins High to Family Video felt shorter than usual, not because of the distance or because you drove any faster than she normally did. It felt shorter because your mind wasn’t crowded with the usual noise that filled it during quiet moments.

There was no replaying conversations inside your head, or overthinking what you should’ve said, or what you shouldn’t have said. There was no heaviness in your chest at the thought of walking into work and forcing yourself through small talk that you didn’t have the energy for.

You just drove.

The radio hummed softly in the background, some rock song playing low enough that it felt like part of the air rather than something you were actively listening to. Normally, by the time you pulled into the parking lot of the plaza, there was already a quiet weight sitting on your shoulders. A clear reluctance and tiredness that you were never able to shake no matter how much sleep you got.

When you parked the car, you didn’t sit there for an extra minute gathering yourself. You just killed the engine and grabbed your things before getting out, without any reluctance in your footsteps, and headed toward the entrance door.

The bell above the door chimed when you stepped inside, the familiar smell of the store greeting you instantly. The fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, and the rows of movies stood neatly in place, colorful spines lining the shelves in perfect order.

Robin was crouched near the New Releases end-cap, reorganizing tapes that had been delivered the night before. Steve stood behind the counter, flipping lazily through a magazine with one elbow propped up on the register.

Both of them looked up when the bell rang, and they both paused at the sight of you. Robin’s head tilted slightly, and Steve lowered the magazine slowly.

You looked over at them, smiling softly. It wasn’t the usual polite smile you used whenever you were on the clock, it was a real one.

“Morning, guys.” You said, walking toward the counter to set down your things.

Robin stood up slowly, brushing her hands off on her jeans. “Okay. What is that?”

“What?” You blinked, looking over at Robin.

“That,” Robin repeated, pointing at you. “That thing on your face. Why do you look like that?”

You laughed lightly, walking behind the counter and setting your bag in one of the cabinets behind the counter. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Robin.” You say, brushing it off.

“Yes, you do.” Steve cuts in, closing the magazine and setting it aside. He leaned against the counter more attentively, studying you like you were some complex puzzle.

“Yes, you do,” Steve said, closing the magazine and setting it aside. He leaned both hands on the counter, studying her like she was a puzzle he was trying to figure out.

“You’re not slouching for once.” Robin comments.

“And you’re not avoiding eye contact,” Steve adds in.

“And you didn’t dramatically sigh when you walked in,” Robin says.

Steve snapped his fingers, looking at Robin like she just solved the puzzle. “Yes! That. She always sighs when she walks in.”

You rolled your eyes, but smiled despite yourself. “I do not sigh, and I’m not dramatic.”

“You absolutely do and you absolutely are,” Robin said, shrugging lightly with a goofy grin on her face.

You shook your head, trying not to laugh, but couldn’t stop the soft amusement from spilling out anyway. “Okay, maybe you’re right. But I don’t sigh dramatically.”

Steve watched carefully, his expression changing into a knowing smile. “You trusted it, didn’t you?”

The sound of laughter faded, not because you felt called out, but because he was right. You looked at him, not even bothered to hide it. “Yeah, I did.” You admitted.

Robin’s eyes widened in surprise and excitement. “Oh, my god.”

Steve’s lips curved into the smallest, most satisfied smile. “I knew it.”

You leaned back against the counter, arms loosely crossed over your chest, fingers messing with the sleeve of your sweater. You didn’t feel like you had to be defensive about it, or like you had to protect what you were feeling.

So, you openly admitted those three words.

“I like him.”

There was no hesitation, no fear in your voice when you said it. You didn’t look down at the ground, or try to brush it off like it was something stupid or casual, you let the confession hang in the air between the three of you.

Robin’s mouth fell open slightly, staring at you with a widened expression. “You said that so easily.”

“I know.” You said, huffing out a soft laugh.

“And you’re not scared?” Steve questions, head tilted slightly.

“No, I’m not.” You said, without any hesitation and that was the strangest part of all.

Robin leaned against the counter beside her, watching you with an expression similar to pride. “Okay, I need details. Immediately.”

You smiled again, softer than usual, almost shy. “We kissed after the night at Lover’s Lake.”

Robin slapped the counter. “I knew it!”

Steve groaned, but there was part of him that was secretly happy for you. “I told you that look wasn’t just friendly.”

You shook your head, laughing at them before continuing. “It wasn’t just the kiss. It was everything before it, it’s the way I don’t feel like I’m waiting for him to leave.” You continue quietly.

Steve’s expression shifted from teasing to gentle in an instant. “That’s a big deal.” He says.

Robin watched her closely, noticing the lack of tension in your shoulders. “You look lighter.”

“I feel light.” You paused for a moment, looking down at yourself, because you didn’t realize how true it was until now. “It feels like I woke up today and my chest didn’t feel right anymore.”

Steve’s gaze softened even more. “You’re actually excited, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, I am.” You respond.

“You’re excited about what could happen,” Robin says with a grin, leaning her chin on top of her hand.

“For once, I’m not thinking about how something might end. I’m thinking about how it might begin.” You admit truthfully, shrugging lightly at the words.

The three of you stood there in a quiet pause, the store continuing to hum around you with the low whir of the ceiling fan above.

Steve looked almost proud, smiling at the confession of vulnerability. “I told you, just trust it.” He says gently.

“And I did.” You replied, looking at Steve with warm eyes.

“Okay, but like, how obvious has this been to literally everyone but you?” Robin teases, grinning softly.

“Apparently very.” You laugh.

Steve points at you with an ‘I told you so’ expression. “Friends don’t look at each other the way he looks at you, said it from the beginning.”

You roll your eyes at his comment, but you feel your cheeks warm despite yourself. “I didn’t see it before, or maybe I didn’t let myself see it.” You admitted.

“You were scared,” Steve says, crossing his arms lightly.

“Yeah, I was.” You hum softly, lips pursed together slightly as you replay the memories.

Robin tilts her head, watching you carefully. “And now?”

“Now I just feel steady.”

The word felt weird to say aloud, but it felt right in a way that you weren’t used to, and for the first time since everything fell apart, feeling steady doesn’t sound dangerous.

⏔⏔⏔ ꒰ ᧔ෆ᧓ ꒱ ⏔⏔⏔

The conversation eventually faded into the natural rhythm of the shift, nothing abrupt or awkward. It shifts naturally, like a song lowering in volume until it becomes background noise.

Robin drifted back toward the counter when the first customer of the late morning wandered in, a middle-aged man looking for something for his kids to watch after school. Steve took the stack of returned tapes from the drop box and began the mindless process of rewinding each one, the familiar mechanical whir filling the air between moments of quiet.

And you moved, picking up a small stack of tapes that had been left on the counter, and began returning them to their rightful places. Your hands moved automatically, muscle memory guiding you down aisles you could probably navigate with your eyes closed by now.

Comedy.

Action.

Horror.

Drama.

The store felt the same as it always did. The lights buzzed faintly, the air smelled faintly of plastic and dust and old carpet, and the radio behind the counter hummed low with some classic rock station Steve liked to keep on during slow days.

Everything was the same, and yet nothing felt the same at all.

You didn’t feel like you were just passing time until your shift ended. You felt present and aware, but somehow unexpectedly distracted because every time the bell above the door jingled, your head lifted before you could stop it.

Every. Single. Time.

The first time it happened, you didn’t think much of it. A woman walked in with her toddler, asking Robin where the Disney section was. You returned your focus to the shelf in front of you, sliding a VHS back into place.

The second time, it was a teenager from Hawkins High, looking for a horror movie to watch with friends. The third time, a man returning two tapes late, apologizing profusely to Steve at the counter. Each time, your gaze snapped toward the door with the same small, involuntary flicker of anticipation.

And each time, it wasn’t him.

You told yourself you weren’t expecting him. You knew he was at school, that he was probably dealing with Max and Dustin and Hellfire nonsense until late afternoon.

You knew he wouldn’t just casually walk into Family Video at eleven in the morning.

But still, you hoped. It wasn’t a desperate kind of hope, it wasn’t heavy or aching. It was something lighter, almost embarrassing, like the quiet and giddy feeling of wanting to see someone you liked, even when you knew you wouldn’t.

You caught yourself doing it again when the bell chimed for what felt like the tenth time. Your head turned toward the door automatically and Steve noticed this time, but he didn’t say anything at first. He just watched you from behind the counter, eyebrows lifting slightly in silent amusement.

You quickly looked back at the movies in your hands, pretending to be far more focused on organizing the Action section than you actually were. But the truth settled in your chest with warm clarity. You missed him, and it surprised you how simple that realization was.

You weren’t overthinking it or trying to analyze why, you simply missed him. You missed the way he stood too close when he talked to you, the way his voice softened when he said your nickname, the way he looked at you like you were something fragile and important at the same time.

You missed the comfort of his presence, and it hadn’t even been a full day.

You moved down the aisle slowly, straightening tapes that didn’t need straightening, giving yourself something to do with your hands because your mind felt busy in a completely new way.

It wasn’t anxious busy, it was thoughtful busy.

You thought about the night before, about the way he kissed you. You thought about how natural it felt to sit beside him afterward, like nothing had changed and yet everything had.

You thought about waking up this morning and not feeling afraid of what that kiss meant. You thought about how, instead of worrying that it would complicate things, you felt excited to see him again.

Your fingers brushed over the spines of horror movies as you moved into that section of the store, and you paused for a second, staring at the familiar titles.

Friday the 13th.

Halloween.

The Thing.

Movies that had somehow become small bridges between the two of you before anything romantic had ever happened.

You smiled softly to yourself.

“Okay, this is getting ridiculous.”

You blinked and looked up.

Robin stood at the end of the aisle, arms crossed, watching you with a knowing expression.

“What?” You asked, trying to sound innocent.

She raised a brow. “You’ve reorganized this aisle three times.”

You glanced down at the perfectly aligned tapes, blinking a few times. “Oh. It was really messy.” You tried to play it off.

“You’re not even working anymore, you’re thinking.” Robin pointed out.

You laughed quietly. “Maybe.”

“You miss him.” Robin tilted her head, but it wasn’t a question, it was an observation.

An observation that you didn’t even bother denying. “Yeah, I do.” You admitted.

“Cute. You have feelings.” Robin teases, grinning brightly.

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t stop the small smile tugging at your lips. “It’s weird. I’ve never felt like this before.” You said.

Robin leaned against the shelf. “Like what?”

You searched for the words, lips pursed together slightly. “Like I don’t feel nervous about liking someone, like I don’t have to prepare myself for disappointment.” You explain.

“That’s a good sign,” Robin said gently, taking in your words.

You glanced toward the door again when the bell rang, your heart still doing the same little hopeful skip before settling back down when you noticed it wasn’t him.

“You’re doing it again.”

“I know.”

She smiled softly. “You’re waiting for him without realizing it.”

You nodded, and that was exactly what it felt like. You weren’t consciously counting down the hours until you saw him, because some part of you was aware that you would.

And that knowledge sat in your chest like a small, steady warmth.

⏔⏔⏔ ꒰ ᧔ෆ᧓ ꒱ ⏔⏔⏔

The shift continued.

Customers came and went in small waves. Steve complained about late fees while Robin argued with a man about whether The Terminator belonged in the Sci-Fi section or the Action section.

You floated through it all with a quiet ease you hadn’t felt in a long time, and every time the bell rang, you looked.

Because now, you weren’t just thinking about Eddie, you were looking forward to him, and the difference between those two things felt enormous.

By the time the clock above the counter crept toward nine, the store had taken on that end-of-day stillness that always felt a little surreal.

The fluorescent lights buzzed louder when there were no voices to compete with them. The aisles looked longer. The shelves looked taller and sound seemed to echo more than it should, VHS tapes clicking into place, the soft thud of the return slot, Steve’s shoes scuffing lazily across the carpet as he did one final walk-through of the store.

Robin had left about an hour earlier, tossing you both a dramatic salute on her way out and promising she’d bring coffee for the next shift to make up for abandoning you two with closing duties.

You stood near the counter, counting the last of the register money while Steve flipped the sign on the door to CLOSED. The outside world beyond the glass had gone dark, the parking lot lit only by the dim glow of the streetlamps and the occasional passing headlights from the road beyond.

There was something strangely peaceful about closing, like the building itself was exhaling.

You slid the drawer shut and let out a small breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. “All good?” Steve asked, walking back toward the counter.

“All good.” You replied, locking up the register.

He leaned his elbows on the counter, studying you for a second with that quiet, observant look he’d had all day. “You’re still smiling,” Steve pointed out.

You laughed softly. “Is that bothering you?”

“No, it’s just weird. In a good way.” He explained.

You reached for your bag and slung it over your shoulder. “I’ll take weird.”

The two of you moved through the store together, turning off lights one by one. Each switch dimmed the space until only the front area remained lit, casting long shadows down the aisles of movies.

When you finally stepped outside together, the cool night air wrapped around you immediately. The parking lot was mostly empty, only your car and Steve’s were sitting under the streetlight.

You turned back toward the door as Steve locked it, listening to the metal click into place. “See you next shift.” He said, jingling the keys once before slipping them into his pocket.

“See you.”

He hesitated for half a second, then added, “Tell me if he does something stupidly romantic.”

“Goodnight, Steve.” You rolled your eyes, walking toward your car.

“Goodnight, lovebird.” He calls out, grinning softly before walking toward his car.

⏔⏔⏔ ꒰ ᧔ෆ᧓ ꒱ ⏔⏔⏔

The drive back to the trailer park felt different than it usually did after work. Normally, after closing shifts, you felt drained, with your eyes heavy and mind already preparing for the next day before this one had even properly ended.

Tonight, the quiet didn’t feel lonely.

The road stretched ahead of you, dark and empty, the headlights cutting through the night in soft beams. The radio played low in the background, something slow and familiar that you didn’t bother turning up.

You found yourself thinking about Eddie again. You wondered what he was doing, if he was still awake, if he was in his room listening to music, and if he was thinking about you the same way you were thinking about him.

You rested your elbow on the window frame, fingers tapping lightly against the steering wheel as you drove. By the time the familiar turn into the trailer park came into view, you felt warmer.

You slowed as you entered, gravel crunching under your tires. The trailers were mostly dark, a few porch lights glowing faintly in the distance. Your eyes immediately drifted toward Eddie’s trailer across the way, then you looked toward your own trailer.

Susan’s car was parked out front, which was uncommon at this time of night. You parked beside it, turning off the engine and sitting there for just a second in the quiet.

Through the thin walls of the trailer, you could see the warm yellow glow of the kitchen light. Shadows moved faintly behind the curtains, most likely her moving through the kitchen as she cooked.

You grabbed your bag and stepped out of the car, the night air cool against your skin, the gravel crunching beneath your shoes as you walked toward the door. You didn’t feel that usual tightening in your chest before going inside, you didn’t feel like you were walking into something heavy.

You just felt ready to be home.

When you opened the door, the smell hit you immediately. It was something garlicky and buttery, something warm and savory that made your stomach respond before you even realized how hungry you were.

Susan stood at the stove, her back to you, stirring something in a pan. The small kitchen light cast a soft glow over her shoulders. The radio on the counter played quietly, some old song humming through the speaker.

She turned when she heard the door. “Oh, hey,” Susan said, her voice was softer than it had been lately.

“Hey, Susan.” You replied, slipping your shoes off by the door.

Max was sitting at the small table, homework spread out in front of her, pencil tucked behind her ear. “You’re home late.” She said, looking up immediately

“Closing shift with Steve.” You answered, used to her interrogation antics.

She nodded, going back to her work.

Susan glanced at you again. “Dinner’s almost ready. Thought I’d make something real tonight.”

“It smells really good.” You said with a soft smile, setting your bag down on the counter before leaning against it.

You watched Susan for a moment, noticing the way she moved around the kitchen felt familiar. Comforting and domestic in a way that made the trailer feel less small.

“What is it?” You asked.

“Chicken alfredo,” Susan replied. “Figured we could all use something filling.”

“Yeah. We could.” You said, laughing softly.

Max looked up again. “I already tried some. It’s good.”

Susan shot her a mock glare. “You weren’t supposed to sample it yet.”

“Quality control.” Max shrugged, laughing quietly.

The three of you moved around the small kitchen with practiced ease. You grabbed the plates from the cabinet while Max cleared off the table, letting Susan carefully plate the steaming food before you all settled around the kitchen tables, forks clinking softly as you began to eat.

Susan sat in the chair closest to the fridge, Max sat across from her, and you sat in between the two of them. The overhead light cast a warm glow over the food, over your hands, over the steam still curling up from the plates.

For a moment, there was just the quiet sound of eating, but Max was the first to break it, as usual. “This is really good, Mom.” She said through a mouthful of pasta.

Susan smiled faintly. “I’m glad, I haven't made this in a while.”

“You should make it more often. It’s really good, Susan.” You nodded in agreement.

Susan glanced at you, and there was something soft in her expression, something that hadn’t been there for a little while. “I will.” She said, taking another bite of food before looking at Max. “So, how’s school going?”

Max perked up a little at that, always eager to talk when someone actually asked. “It’s good, normal. Hellfire started up again, I’m officially a member.” She explained.

“Hellfire?” Susan repeated, a little confused.

“It’s the Dungeons & Dragons club.” You replied, cutting into the conversation.

“It’s really cool. Dustin and Mike are in it, and Eddie runs it.” Max explains enthusiastically.

Susan raised a brow slightly. “Eddie?”

Max pointed her fork vaguely toward you. “She knows him.”

Susan’s eyes shifted between the two of you. “Oh?”

“He’s nice, like really nice. He was helping me today with my character sheet, and kept making jokes so I wouldn’t be nervous.” Max said, but kept going because she always does. “He looked really happy today for some reason.”

You paused mid-bite, already feeling Susan’s gaze on you.

“He kept smiling like an idiot. Dustin said he’s been like that for a couple days.” Max said casually, glancing at you with a knowing smile.

Susan tilted her head, curiosity flickering across her face. “Okay, now I feel like I’m missing something. Can someone explain?”

You sighed softly, but you were smiling. “It’s nothing dramatic. Eddie’s the boy who lives across from us. The Munson trailer.”

Susan’s eyes lit with recognition. “Oh! Wayne’s nephew.”

“Yeah. That’s him.”

She nodded slowly. “I’ve seen him around. Tall, curly hair, loud van.”

“That’s a good description.” You laughed softly, knowing anything involving loudness would be used to describe him.

Susan smiled faintly. “So, you know him?”

You glanced at Max, who was watching you with an almost smug little expression. “Yeah, we’ve gotten pretty close.” You admitted, picking up your fork again and turning it between your fingers as you spoke.”He comes into Family Video a lot. We’ve been hanging out more lately.”

Max leaned forward slightly. “They went to Lover's Lake the other night with Steve and Robin.”

You shot her a look, but she just grinned in return.

“Lovers Lake?” Susan asked, eyebrows lifted slightly.

You felt your cheeks warm, but you didn’t feel embarrassed. “Yeah, just hanging out.” You explained, laughing softly.

Susan looked at you for a moment longer, and something in her expression shifted. It wasn’t suspicion or concern, it was something similar to understanding and relief. “And you like me, don’t you?” She asked gently.

You hesitated for half a second before nodding. “Yeah. I do.”

Susan’s expression softened in a way that made your chest tighten unexpectedly. “I’m glad. He seems like a nice boy.”

“You are?” You questioned, a little shocked.

“Of course I am,” Susan replied, folding her hands together loosely on the table. “I’m glad you’re letting someone in,” she continued. “You haven’t really done that in a long time.”

You looked down at your plate, feeling something warm and fragile settle in your chest. “I never really realized I wasn’t.” You admitted quietly.

“You were surviving. Not living.” Susan said, but she wasn’t accusing you or lecturing you, she was simply recognizing you. “You deserve to have someone in your life who makes you happy.” She added.

Max chimed in, “He really does make her happy.”

You laughed softly. “Okay, you’re done talking for me.”

“I’m just saying.” Max shrugged, smiling brightly.

“What’s he like?” She asked, smiling at the two of you bickering about it.

“He’s kind.” You said first. “Really kind. Even when he pretends not to be. He’s funny. He’s patient and he listens to me.”

You didn’t realize how much that meant until you said it out loud.

Susan nodded slowly, almost proud. “That’s important, isn’t it?”

“And he’s good with Max.” You added, glancing at her with a gentle smile.

“He’s like a weird older brother.” Max agreed, scoffing in an amused laugh.

Susan laughed softly at that. “That’s good, I like that.” She said in approval.

The conversation drifted after that, not because it felt awkward, but because it didn’t need to stay focused there.

Max went back to talking about school, about Dustin arguing with Mike over rules, about how Lucas has been explaining basketball to her. Susan asked questions through it all, genuinely interested.

You watched them talk while you ate, feeling something settle warmly inside you.

This felt easy, it felt normal again, like something you hadn’t allowed yourself to enjoy in a long time.

The plates slowly emptied and conversation turned to small things, who needed to do dishes, what time Susan had to be up in the morning, and Max complaining about a math test coming up.

Laughter slipped into the spaces between words naturally, and as you sat there, listening to them, you realized something quietly and clearly.

You weren’t just healing.

You were home.

Dinner ended the way it always did in your trailer, slowly and comfortably, without anyone rushing to be the first one up from the table. The plates sat empty except for faint streaks of sauce and crumbs of toast. The radio had gone quiet at some point, leaving only the soft clink of forks against ceramic and the hum of the fridge filling the space.

You stood first, gathering the plates automatically. “I’ll clean up the dishes.” You announce, already stacking the plates together.

Max immediately stood up, grabbing the plates from your hands. “No, you cooked all week. You get a break.” She says.

Susan was already at the sink, running warm water. “She’s right. Bring them here.”

“I can help.” You said, rolling your eyes, but there was no real annoyance there.

Max shook her head, walking past you with the dishes. “Go sit down. Or something. Relax for once.”

You watched her for a second, unsure whether to argue or smile.

Susan glanced over her shoulder at you. “Go on, we got it.” She said gently.

You hesitate for a second, then you decide not to fight against it. “Fine, but don’t complain when you have to do all the drying.” You said, smiling at Max.

“We’ll survive.” Max laughed, nudged you away from the sink.

You leaned against the counter for a moment, watching the two of them move around the small kitchen together. The sound of running water, the clatter of dishes, and Max talking about something random while Susan half-listened and half-laughed.

It all felt so normal, and you realized how much you liked watching this version of your family.

You slipped away down the short hallway toward your room while they were still busy, the sounds of them fading into a soft background noise behind you.

Your bedroom greeted you the same way it always did, dimly lit, familiar, and comfortable. The small lamp on your nightstand cast a warm glow over your dresser and the scattered cassettes beside it.

You shrugged off your jacket, hanging it carefully on the hook by the door. Your bag followed, hanging gently beside it. You kicked off your shoes and let your shoulders relax fully for the first time all day.

You changed out of your work clothes, sliding into a pair of plaid pajama shorts, an old t-shirt that was soft from years of use, and fuzzy socks that Max had given you for Christmas last year.

You caught your reflection in the mirror for a second, your hair was messy from the day, your eyes still carried faint shadows from tiredness underneath them, but you were still smiling.

You turned off the overhead light and walked toward your bed, the room dim now except for the lamp’s glow. You pulled the covers back, ready to crawl in, ready to let the quiet of the night settle around you.

But the sound of knocking echoed through the trailer, and then you heard Susan’s footsteps in the living room, and then the soft creak of the front door opening.

There was a brief pause, whispers and voices coming from the living room before Susan’s voice called out. “Hey, you have a visitor!” She said, and Max’s laughter followed soon after.

You blinked in confusion, heart doing a small, startled skip in your chest as you stepped out of your bedroom, slowly walking down the short hallway.

The light from the living room spilled toward you as you rounded the corner and Susan stood by the open door, one hand still resting on it. Max stood beside her, grinning like she knew something you didn’t.

“What?” You asked, head tilted slightly, but then you saw him.

Eddie stood just outside the doorway, hands tucked into the pockets of his jacket, hair slightly messy from the night breeze. The porch light above the door cast a soft glow over him, outlining his figure in warm light against the darkness behind him.

Your breath caught for half a second, because you didn’t expect to see him tonight. And yet there he was, looking at you like you were the only thing in his line of sight.

You glanced back at Susan, who had a knowing smile tugging at her lips, while Max was openly giggling now, clearly entertained by this entire situation.

“I’ll be outside.” You said quietly, feeling the heat rushing up your neck.

“Don’t stay out too long.” Susan nodded, still smiling at the two of you.

“Have fun, lovebirds.” Max laughed.

You shot her a look that only made her grin wider.

You stepped outside and gently pulled the door shut behind you, the soft click of it closing leaving you and Eddie alone in the quiet night air. For a second, neither of you spoke. You just looked at each other, and then you realized suddenly that you were still in pajamas.

And Eddie’s eyes softened even more when he noticed. “Missed you today,” He said softly, smiling at you.

The words were quiet and honest, and they landed straight in your chest, making your smile grow without permission.

“You did?” You asked softly.

“Yeah.” He nodded once, but that was enough for you.

Eddie stepped a little closer, hands still in his pockets like he didn’t quite trust himself to do anything else. “Kept thinking about coming by the store.” He admitted. “But figured you’d be busy. And I didn’t want to be that guy.”

You laughed quietly, shaking your head. “You are absolutely that guy.”

“Yeah. Probably.” Eddie scoffs a small laugh, grinning lightly.

The night was still around you, cool air brushing against your legs as the faint sound of crickets grew somewhere in the distance. “I kept looking at the door today.” You confessed before you could stop yourself.

“What?” Eddie questioned, tilting his head slightly.

“Every time the bell rang, I looked up hoping it was you.” You explained, smiling shyly.

His expression shifted in the smallest way, shifted into something warm and almost disbelieving. “Yeah?” He asked, eyebrows raised just enough to display his disbelief.

You nodded.

He stepped closer again, close enough now that you could see the faint lines at the corners of his eyes when he smiled. “That means a lot more than you’d think, Bambi.” He said quietly.

You folded your arms loosely across your chest, suddenly aware of how close he was, but you weren’t uncomfortable, just warmly aware. “I wasn’t expecting to see you tonight.” You whispered.

He shrugged lightly, trying to play it off. “I wasn’t planning on coming over.” He explained, making you raise an eyebrow.

“You weren’t?”

“But I was sitting in my room and I kept thinking about you.” Eddie continued, “And I realized I didn’t really want to end the day without seeing you.”

Your heart did that soft, fluttering thing again.

“So, here I am.” He finished.

You looked at him for a long second, trying to memorize the way he looked standing there in the porch light before shaking your head lightly. “You’re ridiculous.” You said gently.

“Yeah. But you don’t seem to mind.”

You didn’t, not even a little.

And standing there in your pajamas, barefoot on the cool porch, with Eddie looking at you like you were something precious, you realized this was exactly the kind of moment you had never let yourself imagine before.

Soft.

Simple.

Uncomplicated.

Just someone showing up because they wanted to see you.

Eddie’s eyes drifted slowly over you, taking in every small detail like he was committing it to memory. The oversized t-shirt that hung just past your hips, and the fuzzy socks that looked almost comically warm against the cool night air. Your hair slightly messy from changing, bangs falling into your eyes without you realizing it.

A soft smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “You know, I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone make pajamas look this cute before.” He said gently, voice low and amused.

“They’re not cute. They’re old and comfortable.” You muttered, feeling your cheeks growing warm again.

“Exactly,” Eddie replied.

There was no teasing edge to his tone, no joking smirk, just quiet admiration.

You looked away from his face, trying to hide the way his gaze made you feel seen in a way that wasn’t embarrassing or uncomfortable, but warm and safe.

He took a small step forward, and the distance between you shortened from polite to personal in a second. Eddie didn’t move like he was trying to corner you or overwhelm you. He simply stepped closer, slow enough that you had every opportunity to step back.

You didn’t.

In fact, you found yourself leaning forward just slightly when you noticed the way his hand twitched at his side, like he wanted to reach for you but wasn’t sure if he should.

You met him halfway without thinking, and a quiet, almost breathless chuckle left him when he noticed.

His eyes dropped to yours, softer than you had ever seen them before. “That look, it’s dangerous,” Eddie murmured softly.

“What look?” You asked in a whisper.

“The one where you’re asking me to do something, without saying it out loud.” He said gently.

Your heart fluttered hard enough that you were sure he could hear it, but you didn’t deny it because he was right.

Eddie lifted his hand slowly, carefully, like he was afraid any sudden movement might startle you. His fingers brushed against your bangs first, pushing them gently away from your eyes. The touch was barely there, but it sent a warm shiver down your spine.

His hand lingered for a second longer than necessary before sliding down to cup your cheek, letting his thumb rest beneath your eye, his palm fitting against your face like it had always belonged there.

Your eyes lifted to his, and for a moment, the world around you felt impossibly quiet. No distant sounds buzzing around you, just the two of you standing beneath the porch light.

Eddie searched your face, not nervously or anxiously, just carefully like he was making sure that this was something you wanted too.

He didn’t lean in immediately.

He waited, and you understood what he was asking without him saying a word. Your heart thudded softly against your ribs as you gave him a small, almost imperceptible nod.

That was all he needed.

Eddie leaned down slowly, giving you plenty of time to change your mind. His hand stayed against your cheek, thumb brushing gently against your skin as he closed the remaining space between you.

His lips met yours softly.

Not rushed or demanding, just a tender press of his mouth against yours that felt more like a question than anything else.

You answered it by kissing him back.

Your hands lifted without thinking, resting lightly against the front of his jacket. You could feel the steady warmth of him beneath your fingertips, feel the way his breath slowed when you responded.

The kiss deepened only slightly, not in intensity, but in comfort. In familiarity, like it was something that belonged between you now.

Something natural.

His thumb moved in a small, absentminded motion against your cheek as he kissed you, and you felt yourself melt into the moment without even trying to resist it.

There was no rush or urgency, there was only the quiet realization that this was real.

When he finally pulled back, it wasn’t far. His forehead rested lightly against yours, noses brushing gently as both of you breathed the same air.

You could feel his smile before you saw it. “Hi, Bambi.” He murmured nervously.

“Hi, Eddie.” You laughed softly, still breathless from the kiss.

“I thought about doing that all day.” He admitted quietly, his hand never leaving your face.

“I’m glad you did.” You whispered, feeling your stomach flutter with warmth.

He looked at you again like he couldn’t quite believe you were standing there in front of him, like this wasn’t something his mind had made up.

His eyes flickered over your face again, lingering on your lips before returning to your eyes. “You’re really here,” Eddie said softly.

“So are you.” You replied.

He smiled at that, the kind of smile that didn’t fade quickly and the kind that stayed because he didn’t want it to go away.

And for a long moment, neither of you moved. You just stood there, close enough to feel each other’s warmth, wrapped in a quiet that felt full instead of empty.

Comfortable instead of awkward.

Safe instead of uncertain.

Eddie’s hand finally slid gently from your cheek, but only so he could lace his fingers loosely with yours. “I didn’t want to go to bed tonight without seeing you.” He said, his hand squeezing yours softly.

“I’m really glad you didn’t.” You whispered, squeezing his hand back.

You and Eddie didn’t separate right away.

Even after the kiss, even after the soft laughter and the gentle quiet that followed, your hands stayed loosely tangled together between you like neither of you had quite figured out how to let go yet.

The porch light hummed softly above your heads. The night air had turned cooler, brushing against your bare legs and making the fuzzy socks feel suddenly very necessary. Somewhere down the road, a car passed, tires crunching over gravel before fading into the distance again.

But neither of you paid attention to any of it.

Eddie looked at you like he was still trying to process what had just happened, like the kiss hadn’t fully settled into reality yet. His thumb absentmindedly traced over the back of your hand as he spoke.

“You know,” Eddie started, a small smile tugging at his lips. “The guys at Hellfire have been giving me a hard time lately.”

“Oh yeah?” You hummed in response, raising a brow.

“Yeah. Apparently, in their professional and very mature opinions, I’ve been different.” He explained, laughing at the memory.

“Different how?” You asked, head tilted slightly.

He huffed out another quiet laugh. “Happier. Less grumpy. Less ‘Eddie is going to bite our heads off for breathing too loud during a campaign.’”

You smiled at that.

“They said I’ve been walking around like I’ve got some kind of secret,” Eddie continued. “Smiling at nothing. Zoning out more often, and even missing dice rolls because I’m not paying attention.”

“That sounds dangerous for a dungeon master.” You said, trying to hide the way your smile grew and the heat started creeping up your neck.

“Oh, it is.” He said. “Dustin almost died twice because I forgot what monster I had thrown at them.”

You laughed softly, and the sound made his smile widen.

“So they cornered me,” Eddie went on. “After the session, they wouldn't let me pack up my stuff. Gareth actually blocked the door like he was interrogating a criminal.”

“And?” You asked.

“And they demanded to know why I suddenly look like I don’t hate the world anymore.”

You bit your lip, already knowing where this was going.

“So, I told them about you.” Eddie said, his voice softening as he squeezed your hand again.

Your heart fluttered.

“You did?” You asked, feeling your heart flutter against your chest.

“Couldn’t really help it. They wouldn’t drop it, and I didn’t really want to.” He said, shrugging his shoulders lightly.

You looked down at your hands for a moment, feeling something warm settle in your chest. “What did you say?” You asked quietly.

He thought for a second, trying to place all his words into one sentence.

“I told them there’s this girl who works at Family Video.” He started off slowly. “Who listens to metal. Who’s sarcastic without trying to be. Who makes really good coffee and laughs like she’s surprised by her own happiness.”

You looked up at him again, eyes soft.

“I told them she’s the reason I haven’t been such a miserable bastard lately.”

A quiet laugh escaped you, but your chest felt tight in the best way.

“They all went quiet after that,” Eddie added. “Which never happens. Ever. They just stared at me like I’d grown a second head.”

“I can imagine.” You said, smiling in disbelief.

“And then,” Eddie said, eyes lighting with amusement, “Max walks by the table at school, hears them asking questions, and very proudly announces—”

He straightened up a little, mimicking Max’s voice. “‘That’s my sister, by the way.’”

You laughed out loud at that, shaking your head gently, because you can only imagine the grin on her face as she said that.

“Of course she did.”

“She said it like she was claiming a trophy, like she personally made this happen.” He said, laughing lightly.

“That sounds exactly like her, I’d be more surprised if she didn’t say anything.” You said.

“They thought that was the coolest thing ever. That you’re Max’s sister.” Eddie explains, shifting his weight slightly closer to you before continuing. “And now, they all want to meet you.”

“Me? They want to meet me?” You repeated, blinking a few times.

“Yeah. You.” Eddie confirmed.

“Why?”

He gave you a look like the answer was obvious. “Because you’re apparently the reason why I have emotions now.”

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t stop smiling.

“They’re curious, they want to know who this mysterious person is that has me walking around smiling like an idiot,” Eddie said, laughing lightly.

“You don’t look like an idiot.” You rolled your eyes playfully.

He smirked, shaking his head in disagreement. “Oh, I absolutely do.”

A comfortable silence settled between you for a second before he spoke again, a little more hesitantly this time.

“If you want to,” Eddie added, softer now. “You could come by sometime. We’ve got band practice this weekend. Just in the garage. Nothing fancy.”

Your eyes lifted to his, slightly surprised by the offer. “You’d bring me?”

“Yeah,” Eddie nodded. “I mean, only if you want to. No pressure. They’d just like to meet you and I’d like you there.”

The way he said it wasn’t casual or thrown out carelessly. It was sincere and honest. He wanted you there, not as an afterthought or someone tagging along, but as someone who belonged in that part of his life too.

You felt something warm bloom in your chest as you nodded. “Yeah, I’d like that too.”

His smile came back instantly, brighter this time. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“They’re going to love you,” Eddie said confidently.

You raised a brow, almost skeptical. “You don’t know that.”

“I do, because I know you.” He replied.

The simplicity of that made your heart ache in the gentlest way. He gave your hand one last squeeze before reluctantly letting it go, like he finally remembered that the night had gotten late and you both had to sleep at some point.

“I should probably let you get inside before Susan comes out here wondering why I’m loitering on her porch.” He joked softly, rubbing the back of his neck.

“She already knows.” You said, glancing over your shoulder at the door behind you.

“Oh, great. No pressure then.” He muttered with a grin.

You both took a small step back, the space between you returning but feeling very different now, lighter but full of something new.

Eddie glanced at you one more time, eyes warm. “I'll see you tomorrow?” He asked.

“Tomorrow.” You confirmed, nodding lightly.

He smiled again, the kind that lingered, before slowly stepping back toward the road that separated your trailers.

You stood there for a moment, watching him go, feeling the warmth of everything he had just said settle gently into you.

Hellfire noticing.

Max proudly calling you her sister.

Eddie telling people about you like you were something important, like you mattered.

And for the first time in a long time, you didn’t feel scared of that.

You felt ready for it.

A/N: oh my goodnessssss we’re finally stepping into eddie’s world!! this chapter marks 10 more until the series is finished. i hope you’re all ready for the next few chapters <33

taglist 17/25: @celestialmonkii @carbonnite-copy @oceansstone @sweetesttriz @lonelywriter-1 @b1u3c10ud @qardasngan @grannysmithsgreenapple @babymetal26 @nes1309 @leclercdream @sodavrr @sunshine75| @d3ad2you @qw-something @horrorqueen02 @snowgirlieee

everyone does”

“ friends…. no thanks.

best friends!”