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belokhvostikova · 1 year ago

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𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐎𝐧𝐞 𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲 𝐅𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐎𝐮𝐭

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 | Your secret fling with Eddie Munson hadn't gone entirely under wraps, particularly to the know-it-all, Dustin Henderson. With the help of Robin and Steve, the three conspire to reveal the truth, resulting in two of the most awkward people going on a date together...

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | Swearing, slight crying, alcohol consumption, awkwardness, insecurities, closeted sexuality, implied coming out, secret relationship, and some explicit sexual content: fondling, mention of porn, mention of oral, and unprotected vaginal sex (fairly minor, not the focal point).

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞 | This piece has literally been sitting in my Google Docs since June 26th, because when rewatching Friends, I though it would be a cute idea for a fic, so you'll see a lot of lines and parallels from the episode (season 5, episode 14). It's devastatingly unfortunate Matthew Perry passed when I was finishing this up. So, in memory of him and a toast to friendship, here is this fic. Be safe, appreciate life, and enjoy <3 I love you all.

𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐬, 𝐃𝐨 𝐍𝐨𝐭 𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭.

“Did you guys see that?!” A pointed finger of accusation was targeted against Eddie Munson, completely oblivious to his knowledge.

Steve Harrington had grimaced at the mush that was once a solid cheeseburger residing inside the slobbery mouth of Dustin Henderson, as the kid spoke with such urgency, clearly unperturbed by his lack of food etiquette and social decorum. But such skills could not be expected much from Dustin Henderson. That is unless, of course, an actual adult of authority had been in the presence, to which a gummy smile was expected to assuage whatever insulting comment about the need for manners that “The Hair” would proffer in disgust.

It was the second Saturday in a row that Steve’s been bombarded by the abuse of the children to let his residence be used for a pool party. He doesn’t understand how exactly he lost the backbone to say no to four teenagers, but the phenomenon had manifested into reality, and at the very least, a compromise was made for the young adults—of whatever weird mesh of a friend group this was between older teens, younger teens, crossover shebang—to tag along for a hot afternoon of relaxation.

“Yeah, Eddie’s hair totally looks like a wet mop.” Max Mayfield snickered between her sips of a twisty-straw-in-lemonade action. In truth, seeing lushes locks of black stick to his face and neck was quite amusing, especially when made worse as the metalhead re-calibrated like a dog, shaking his hair as a means of getting rid of the chlorine water that weighed down his head. One that could always get a good chuckle out of anyone.

“No! Not that! That!” The ghost trail that was of Eddie Munson walking inside the Harrington villa, as pointed to by Dustin as a means of evidence, did little to provide any context of support to whatever it was he was avowing about this time. In many instances, those close to him knew to just let his diatribes continue without interference. The kid’s standards were impossibly high; people’s mistakes of simple wrongdoings were always criticized by his superiority. ‘“Oh, I’m just gonna head to the bathroom real quick.’” Dustin mimicked, mocking the voice of his Dungeon Master with dramatic gestures of flailing arms. A testament surely to get his character killed in next week’s campaign, should he have been caught by the man.

“Yeah, Dustin, that’s kinda, like, a natural occurrence in life.” Mike Wheeler deadpanned with a patronizing voice to annoy, as it’d been known to exasperate his friend. It’d even gained a couple laughs from the lounging bodies strewn about in the breadth of the gardened backyard.

Lucas Sinclair had jumped at the opportunity to prod further, barking a deafening cackle. “Yeah, remember that bomb you dropped after the school’s attempt to serve enchiladas?” He slapped his knee with joy. “You had the janitor running from the stalls!”

That one really got a good laugh out of everyone. But before Max could even venture at an attempt to cater for further details, Dustin struck on offense to defend his honor from the sharings of his intimate privacy, definitively emphasized with an agitated tone of vexation. “No, no! You pinky swore that you’d never speak of it! Do I need to tell everyone what Erica found under your bed?!” Old reliable; blackmail, the bargain of a lifetime.

“The hell is under your bed, man?” Steve pondered, flipping a seared patty with a slab of American cheese ready to go. If it was anything like what was under his bed, he’d surely want no one to know.

“Nothing!”

“What I thought.” Dustin muttered with a glare, as Lucas shrunk in his chair to evade any potential threats of further questions that lay on the tips of his friends’ nosy tongues. “But again, that is not what I am talking about.”

Always the civil one out of the Wheeler clan, Nancy reassuringly stepped up to support her brother’s friend in need, settling everyone down. “We’re sorry, Dustin, go ahead.” It was to be expected she’d gain a heartfelt thank you from Dustin Henderson, himself, once the debacle simmered and the turbulence had passed. Nancy Wheeler always did have a special place in the kid’s big heart, particularly after the caring gesture of the 1984 Hawkins Middle’s Snow Ball Dance.

“How can you all be so blind?!” Dustin seethed. “You’re telling me none of you find it even a little suspicious that Eddie just so happened to go to the 'bathroom' right after Y/N’s excuse of wanting to 'change,' like, hello?!” He huffed. “They’re totally screwing!”

Dustin Henderson felt devastatingly vanquished when a unanimous vote of disbelieving what’s hurtled his way with no mercy. He felt useless- undermined. Like the bag of Fritos left behind when children would rather fight over Doritos or Sour Cream n’ Onion Lays, rather than appreciate the artistry of a simple corn chip, left alone and forgotten until a last resort when moms took too long to make dinner; never to be cherished in the dark corner of the bulk size box of Frito-Lays. Of course, they wouldn’t believe him. They didn’t witness what he had to tragically witness. He heard it so vividly. So hauntingly vivid. Sometimes, it kept the poor boy up at night. Last week- last Friday- Hellfire’s Friday, such an exhilarating night now befouled by the auditory version of what he learned in the ninth grade compulsory course of sexual education.

How naive of him to believe your actions stemmed from the kindness of your heart; offering your chauffeuring abilities to pick up the freshman after their campaigns, sauntering inside with a sickeningly sweet smile to pair with your tender greetings, and always wanting to lend a helping hand to the Dungeon Master, because “it just seems like so much to clean.” Puh-lease! The signs had been flashing in his face. The ulterior motives screaming in his ear. What sane person deliberately chooses to waste their time picking up three boys revved up with excitement and sweat after the thrills of Dungeons and Dragon? Jesus, shit, it was Friday night, don’t you have any plans?! Yeah, plans to stick your tongue down their Dungeon Master’s throat. Tainting the sanctity of Hellfire with your debauchery.

Dustin Henderson had forgotten his dice. Sometimes, he wishes he would have just let the damn things go.

“God, baby, a quickie- let’s just do it right here real quick.” Eddie’s begging voice vibrated behind the closed door of the drama department, seeping through the open cracks beneath the door, all for Dustin’s ears to hear.

And he tried to give him the benefit of the doubt- the kid really did. Pet names were far from unusual by use of Eddie Munson. The one instance the Byers dropped back into Hawkins during Spring Break, it was no doubt Will the Wise had to get a taste of the new man running the show, and when Eddie had given Byers the innocent compliment of being such a sweetheart, the kid blushed into oblivion, stuttering a thank you in return. Hell, not to mention the infamous “big boy” that followed Steve Harrington around wherever the man took on motherly duties. So, Dustin brushed it off. But the moment had quickly transpired into something cringe worthy to the fourteen-year-old who didn’t know better. It should have been his cue to run, but the fiery design of his dice cost him six bucks of his chores earning, and they weren’t about to be discarded, as if the sweat of his forehead meant nothing from an afternoon of bending over the mop bucket to clean the kitchen floors.

There are moments at night when he speculates if this is the doings of the heavenly man above that his beloved, Suzie Bingham, always mentioned; punishing Dustin in consequence of eavesdropping on a private matter that surely was not intended to be heard. But can you really call it eavesdropping when you were merely trying to retrieve your dice? No! You can’t!

“They’re already waiting for me in the car.” You whined against his lips. The figurine that was poking your hip was the last thing accounted for in your mind, as Eddie had showcased you onto the wooden table of the prop room. Lips smeared against yours, his hand had squeezed a chunk of your meaty thigh, bringing you forth to keep you in close company. “We can’t.” Can’t what, huh? Find the dignity to do it outside of school grounds?! Freaks!

“Little shits.” Dustin had appallingly gasped at the insult, feeling the stabbing wound of betrayal hit him in the chest as you laughed along, hand clutched over his heart to appease the pain of such affliction. The dramatics. “Come to my place after.” Eddie delicately kissed loving pecks to your lips. “That way,” his finger trailed up your thigh, “we can have our alone time, and I can finally get a taste of that pretty pu-”

Dustin Henderson knew to run away at that point. Safe to say, the kid never got his dice back.

“Are you insane?!” Motherly hand on the hip, Dustin didn’t appreciate Steve’s disciplinary tone of voice, sounding too much like his mother, Ms. Claudia Henderson, for his liking, as everyone agreed with Harrington’s proclaimed delusion against the boy. “Munson doesn’t have the skills to screw, let alone someone as hot as her.” He chuckled in disbelief.

Oh, boy, was he wrong.

“Mm, j-just like that, uh!” Your pelvis pummeled into the sink, tainting the precisely picked pristine porcelain by Mrs. Harrington, herself, as Eddie rutted his hips into the dampness that was your bikini bottoms to chase a release that was on the brink of snapping.

It was your fault he claimed; prancing in a top and bottom that left little to the imagination. Accusations of your outfit being chosen to taunt him were thrown your way, and your faux innocence only cemented it further. “Fuck- fucking take it—ugh, s-shit—take this fucking cock!” How could this ever be seen as a punishment when your boyfriend was lighting your body on fire with the ecstasy of abusing your g-spot?

Perhaps having sex in the bathroom of your mutual friend was far from the ethical rules of friendship, but the act of secrecy had bred a burning excitement that neither of you could contain. And, given the fact that four weeks ago, Steve had poked fun at Eddie’s singleness—not that Steve had any room to joke, though, at least, “The King” was relishing in the funness of meaningless hookups, something Eddie surely didn’t partake in, he lovingly had you—so seeking revenge in fucking his hot girlfriend in his friend’s bathroom had stirred something menacing in Eddie’s head to truly not give a single care in what he was doing was wrong.

“Yes! Yes! I’m gonna cum, fuck!” Fingers tightening on the edge of the sink, your heart soared watching the reflection of Eddie’s mouth panting with want, as he fucked your pussy, ready to release his load deep inside. His hands had snaked to grab handfuls of your bouncing tits, groaning as he felt your nipples poke through the coldness of your wet bikini top.

His hips harshly snapped against your rippling ass. “Cum all over my cock- shit! C’mon, pretty girl, fucking soak me- take all o’ me!” It barely felt as though he was pulling out, merely drilling in deeper and deeper. “I’m gonna cum- fuck, fuck, fuck, fu-”

“They are totally screwing!” The curls of Dustin Henderson’s head were on the verge of being ripped out in frustration; all that work he so earnestly dedicated night and day to maintain the silky bounce was about to be all for nothing. “They are! I heard them!”

Wrong choice of words. “You were listening to them screw?!” Robin gagged, triggering an onslaught of ew’s and perv’s- well, really, Max Mayfield had been the only one calling her friend a perv, doing it in the relaxation of her lounging chair, teasing behind her newly gifted heart-shaped sunglasses.

“No! No!” Dustin shouted in clarification. “I wasn’t listening! I heard them talking about it!” He agonized. “They’ve been doing it for at least a week! Behind our backs!”

“Oh!” Max ventured. “Let’s bet, I say they’ve been engaged for four months, and are pregnant!” She heckled, now clearly just taking the piss out of him.

“Has the water gone from your ears to your brain?” Robin laughed in his face. Surely the kid was mistaken, right? Aside from her personal himbo—Steve hated the nickname—you and Nancy Wheeler had become her newfound best friends. You know, a united front against the boys, girl talk, the whole shebang about girl code? Secrets weren’t a thing between your three! Granted, Robin, herself, was harboring a pretty large secret that only her himbo knew of, but that was different! Boys were nothing, she would gladly hear about all her friends’ boy problems, indulging in the drama of long distance or whatever the hell there was to complain about, but girls?! Yeah, that was, uh, that was just something- a topic still unbreached… at least, until she was ready.

“Fine!” The boy heaved, bailing out on defending his stance any further. “You guys don’t wanna believe, that’s just fine.” He snided. “But when they come back, and Y/N hasn’t changed out of her bathing suit, you won’t be laughing now!” Dustin Henderson ended his tirade with an embittered bite to his burger, dramatically dropping into his pool chair.

They’d all learn soon, and bow down to him.

So now, everyone waited. Waited for the fateful moment that would either prove Dustin Henderson right or wrong. And unfortunately- for you and Eddie, at least, your steamy escapade on the sink of the Harrington bathroom had left you too dazed and forgetful in the post-orgasmic bliss that was heavy breaths and loving touches of aftercare to keep up with the said excuse of “changing out of wet clothes” that got you alone with Eddie Munson in the first place. So when you marched out, glowing and relaxed—exactly two minutes and thirty-four seconds after Eddie’s “bathroom break” (so thoughtfully executed)—in the same damp bikini that had your secret boyfriend riled up to begin with, everyone gasped.

“What?” You looked around confused.

Unbeknownst to you, Dustin Henderson took a cheesy bite of his burger, loudly sipping a carbonated gulp of his cold Coke, ready to snap his fingers for another round of meals for his peasant friends to fetch.

He was right.

Robin Buckley confirmed it next.

That Monday to come, Robin was staggering over the words of Dustin Henderson, and trying to piece the evidence presented to understand what was transpiring in your double life. The events after your return from “changing” left you confused by the jarring stares of six pairs of eyes testing you. Nancy, with the softest approach, had questioned you on the lack of new clothes on your body, to which your knight in shining armor—or accomplice—stepped up to save you from the army of prodding friends. “A knot in my hair, yeah, I distracted her to help me get a knot out of my hair.” Sure, Eddie, sure.

During the uproarious minutes of lunchtime, you’d been ready to get an afternoon break from school to fork through Hawkins High’s poor excuse as to what constitutes consumable food, when the sudden scrutiny from Robin Buckley began. And, my god, was she persistent.

In the comical marching band she suited, Robin Buckley had rushed her attempt to the first approach. “Hey, Robs. You think I can borrow your notes for Civics, I-”

“So, I hear Jonathan’s coming back from California next week!” Something about rashly eating the served cut peaches seemed to play up to the normal act Robin was going for, but truthfully, it just made you eye her strange behavior weirdly.

“Oh.” You accepted the out-of-nowhere information. Maybe you won’t do so good on Mr. Vortroski’s test on Supreme Court cases as you originally thought. “That’s great for Nance-”

“Isn’t it?!” The enthusiasm she was exerting was truly taking it over the top. But Robin Buckley had a heart for caring, and perhaps the excitement for her friend was really bubbling up today. “Nancy said they’ve been planning, like, a lot of dates, you know, to catch up on lost time?” You casually nodded along. “Single dates, double dates… and then I was thinking, hey!” She perked. “Y/N’s young and good looking! She’s probably seeing someone! So are you, I don’t know, seeing someone? Anyone? Tall, dark hair? Anyone?”

“Uh…” Yeah, maybe the hastiness of Robin’s impetuous nature wasn’t the best route to go with. “No, um, no I’m not seeing anyone.” You gave a tight-lipped smile. “Nance and Jonathan are gonna have to find someone else to double date with- oh, maybe Steve! What’s that girl's name he’s been seeing, Brenda? Beatrice? Actually, you know what, it’ll probably be really awkward to ask your ex-boyfriend on a double date with your current bo-”

“You’re seriously not seeing anyone?!” Robin’s brows furrowed with frustration. You were lying to her face- you were lying straight to your best friend’s face! “Nobody? No one?” You begrudgingly shook your head. “No thing?”

“Robin,” you chuckled, “is there something you want to tell me?” There were lots of things Robin Buckley wanted to tell you. Like, for starters, the newfound revelation that she likes how she looks with mascara, after you left yours on the dresser of her bedroom during your sleepover two weeks ago. She had no plans of returning it back to you, either. Or, possibly the fact that Bridget—the actual name of Steve’s newest lover—stole his Farrah Fawcett hairspray- or the fact that Steve uses Farrah Fawcett hairspray. Maybe the other thing, as in the strange occurrence that happens to her heartbeat whenever Vickie from chemistry happens to be around. Or, the other other thing, like the fact that she spent an obscene amount of minutes staring at cover of “Scissoring with Seduction” starring Roxie Rockett and Viola Diamond, after organizing the adult films section at Family Video- actually, scratch that, she’d never tell a soul about that, not even Steve Harrington.

“Is there something you want to tell me?” She shot back with fervency.

“No…?” Your questioning answer had your friend igniting her dramatic flare, slumping in her seat with a defeated huff. Dustin Henderson would surely be owed a duly apology. At this point, you’d like to say this weirded you out, but you lived in Hawkins, Indiana. You’ve seen weirder.

Evidently not sufficed with your response, your friend sat up onto perched elbows. “Y/N, you know you can tell me anything, right?” A sincere approach. Undoubtedly better. “Like, you don’t have to be afraid to tell me stuff. I won’t judge or anything.” Robin solemnly smiled at you.

Your tender hand squeezed her arm. “I know.” You beamed. “I hope you know that the same goes for you, Robs. If you ever have anything you need to tell me, I’ll always be here to listen to you. Probably give you way better advice than Stevie.” You both chuckled at the expense of Steve Harrington. Robin Buckley understood the feeling of not being ready for the world to know, because knowing would change the dynamics of life, and having the world suddenly perceive you in a way they never have before was scary.

Having the world hate you for the tender love you caressed your partner with was terrifying.

You’d tell her when you were ready, just as she would with you.

With a nod to her head, she patted your hand. “You know, I asked Steve once on tips to upgrade my look, and he legit told me to do my eyebrows like Pamela Anderson.”

“The himbo, himself, is too unknowledgeable to know that Miss Anderson is the only one capable of pulling off the blonde bombshell look. Though, I would love to see him with pencil brows and blue eyeshadow.” You both laughed, before you reached over to pinch her chin. “Plus, your beautiful self doesn’t need any changing, Robs. Anyone would be lucky to wake up next to it.”

Yeah, she’d simply tell you when she was ready, just as you would with her.

By three o’clock, Robin Buckley had been worn down by the insufferable compulsion that was Mr. Heizer’s fifth period calculus class. With the last day of school being around the corner, Robin wondered what warranted Heizer’s balding head to be so miserable that he felt the need to subject his students with the abuse of derivatives. Trudging her feet against the pavement of the Hawkins High parking lot, Steve Harrington had came into view, where he brandished himself atop the hood of his car. Not the most irregular of sights, given the systemic routine of drop off and pick-up that had been structured for Monday through Friday, though today, Dustin Henderson had managed to find Steve’s BMW through the array of parked cars, and was found yapping his ear off.

So sorely critical-looking, Robin couldn’t help but tiredly chuckle. “What’s with the wrinkles, kid?” She approached.

Dustin huffed, letting his arms dramatically drop to his side in desperation. “Steve won’t go along with my plan!”

“What are you even doing here, Dustin, isn’t your mother, like, first in line at the car riders pick-up?” She laughed.

Steve exasperated. “He waved off his poor mother, like the lunatic he is, just to track me down and tell her I was giving him a ride!” He answered, propelling Dustin to gasp with a snide.

“So we can talk about the plan!” Dustin provoked the Italian—that he probably didn’t actually have—within him, as his loose fist shook in Steve’s vicinity.

“What plan?” Robin interjected.

“The plan to expose Y/N and Eddie!” Dustin stressed.

“Eddie and Y/N are not screwing.” Steve deadpanned. “What happened Saturday was just… some fluke coincidence, not proof to anything, okay? So let it go, Dustin. Just face it, you were wrong.” He chuckled a very much unappreciated chuckle in Dustin’s face.

“I am not wrong! I know what I heard! How many times do I have to be right on the money for you all to just trust me?!” Neither Steve or Robin appreciated the numerous stares the freshman was gathering from leaving classmates and faculty.

“Okay, just calm down, alright.” Robin shushed. “You're right-”

“Ha!”

“But I don’t think we should do anything.” Dustin heaved, scowling at Robin as if she just committed sacrilege.

“Are you crazy? Of course, we should totally do something!” Dustin retorted. “This is big news! Two of our best friends are dating! You know what this means?! I could have parents, Robin, and you know I don’t have a dad, do you really want to be the reason I never have a dad?” A pointed finger targeted her.

Her hand worked swiftly to smack his accusing finger away. “Eddie is not your dad, Christ, he’s not dating your mom.” She annoyingly sighed.

“Yeah, and also, I’ve known you for way longer. If anyone’s gonna be your dad, it’s gonna be me, not Munson.” Steve exhorted with ire.

Dustin mockingly laughed. “Please, you and mother have the same hips.”

Robin Buckley and Dustin Henderson were too engrossed in their conversation to bring any of their attention to Steve Harrington’s insulted gasp. “Look, Dustin, I already tried asking Y/N about it, and she’s just not ready to talk about it.” She explained. “Let’s just drop it until they’re ready to tell us.”

“Okay, but we can help them talk about it.” The kid returned with retaliation. “You know how great it was to see Nancy and Jonathan finally get together?”

“Which came at my expense, by the way.” Steve scoffed. “Don’t know why that brings you such joy.”

“Well, this is Y/N and Eddie, it’s even bigger!” Dustin smiled. “Look, all I’m saying is that a little encouragement never hurt anybody.” Call the boy annoying, he already knew that, but his intentions were coming from good faith. The notion of helping his friends find love- or more so express it, had him bubbling with excitement. “And the only way to get this love story rolling is if we get them to crack.”

Steve groaned. “Meaning?”

“Meaning, we have to make them break first.” Dustin was beginning to get his crazy eyes, something about conspiring a plan had him menacingly smirking his enthusiastic grin. “You know, trick them into telling us.”

Robin sighed, drilling the palm of her hands into her eyes. “Okay, you know what? Do whatever you like, Dustin, but I will not be a part of this plan.”

“Of course, you will!” Dustin implored with desperate hands grabbing at her arms to shake with emphasis. “You’re the one who’s gonna have to flirt with Eddie.”

Robin and Steve blurted in disbelief. “What?!”

“Well, Steve can’t flirt with Y/N, she’ll never go for it.” Dustin rationalized.

“Woah, woah, wait a second, what makes you think she wouldn’t go for me?” Steve plowed on, his ego taking an obvious hit by a child six years his age. “I’m a total catch, the ladies love me!” He argued. “And Robin, she can’t flirt with Eddie, she’s… uh, well, she- she just can’t!” He stepped up to try to help his friend, much to Robin’s appreciation.

Dustin sighed, placing a tender hand upon Steve’s shoulder. “Look, Steve, you gotta get over this crush you have on Robin-”

“I do not have a crush on Robin!” Steve flung Dustin’s arm away. “And back to this ‘Y/N not going for me’ thing, I can totally flirt with her to get her to crack!”

Dustin sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, as though he was the adult in this situation. “Steve, c’mon, she calls you himbo behind your back, she probably thinks you have no personality.”

“I have personality!”

“No, you have hair!”

In the midst of the commotion, Eddie Munson had sauntered his way out of the double doors, cigarette in hand to relinquish the stress brought upon him throughout the day. Despite the matter that his van had been haphazardly parked on the west end of the parking lot for reasons being that your pretty self always used the end doors for the less crowded purposes—sue him, he loved the view—there was always something about Steve Harrington and Dustin Henderson arguing that always brought happy entertainment for the metalhead.

“Trouble in paradise?” His croaking voice startled the group, as they all looked at him stunned. “Jesus Christ, what’s with the faces?” Eddie laughed, as his cigarette scraped along the wetness of lips.

“N-Nothing.” Robin awkwardly had to offer, forcing Eddie to raise a brow at her.

And then he spoke. Dustin fucking Henderson spoke. “Actually! Uh, R-Robin what were you saying about Eddie just now?” She snapped a deadly glare back at him, to which he gladly challenged with a grating smile that had Steve quietly laughing in the back.

“You talkin’ about me behind my back, Buckley? C’mon, I thought we were friends.” Eddie lightly jabbed, as he paid more attention to his lighter, which was taking multiple rounds of clicks until it ignited.

“Nothing.” She assured. “I said nothing.”

“No, no, you were saying something about his outfit.” Dustin encouraged. God, how ethical was it to beat up a child? “About how he… looks nice.”

Robin sighed, as Eddie gave her a lighthearted smile. “Thanks, Rob, I’m really liking those patches.” He pointed to her sweater, finding nothing but the innocence of friendship in her supposed compliment.

“A-And something about his large muscles.” A curl of his hair was absentmindedly twirled as to appear uninvolved in the scheme of his mischief, and right as Eddie’s eyes left Dustin with a confused stare, the kid’s arm shoved Robin’s back to coach her further.

So, Robin Buckley, simply accepted. Though, tapping into her retired career of one year in drama club when she got the gracious role of playing Mrs. Soames in last year's production of Our Town proved to lack any skills training, when attempting to flirt with Eddie Munson had her stuttering like a child learning to speak. Then again, playing Mrs. Soames in Our Town didn’t exactly require her to flirt with her friend’s secret boyfriend who was a man!

“Y-Yeah, Eddie, uh, that m-material.” Robin bunglingly smiled, as a stiff hand touched the leather of his coat. “O-Oh, well, hello, Mr. B-Bicep.” She mentally prepared herself for the moment Steve Harrington would belittle her to death for her lack of flirting skills whenever this mess was over. “You’ve been, uh, working out?”

Attempting to give her the benefit of the doubt, Eddie chose to assuage the painful discomfiture with his casual sarcasm. “Ah, well, I try to, y’know, squeeze things.” Eddie recoiled at her over-the-top laugh that appeared too similar to that of Heidi Wilson’s, when she ran into him and Steve in the food court of Starcourt Mall last week, looking to allure his friend with whatever screech that was. “You okay?”

“Uh-”

“She’s just having guy problems.” Dustin interjected, much to Robin’s dismay. Never. Never in a million years would Robin Buckley ever have guy problems. “Go on, tell him.”

Yeah, Dustin Henderson wouldn’t see the age sixteen. “Well, uh, you know how you’re s-sometimes just looking for something, a-and don’t even realize that it’s, um, right there in front of you... s-smoking a cigarette?”

Eddie looked down at the lit cigarette in his mouth, and quickly stepped back in panic, all while Steve Harrington’s cheeks puffed with laughter, as his sealed lips worked overtime to not guffaw out loud. “U-Um, yeah, okay, I’m gonna go.” Eddie could only spare a quick glance to Robin, before throwing everyone a small wave goodbye.

Robin Buckley watched him walk away for two seconds, before slowly turning to Dustin Henderson, where he was met with her twitching eye. “You have five seconds to run.”

His mouth fell gape. “But wait, Steve’s my ride-”

“Five!”

That Monday afternoon, Dustin Henderson spent forty-five grueling minutes walking the three mile hike to his home, as punishment per Robin Buckley’s request. And yes, she did wave him goodbye, when Steve Harrington’s BMW swiftly passed him on the way over.

Steve Harrington confirmed it next.

And maybe was a little asshole about it.

Benny’s Burger had become the choice of dinner for the mundane Monday night he was currently enduring, because Eddie Munson refused to hit up the bar, despite the common courtesy that buying beers had become for the twenty-year-old men. At the very least, greasy burgers with a cigarette to follow would be the accommodation Eddie Munson could offer, since Steve Harrington had lost his weekly hookup, because his personal wingman decided to fall into a secret relationship- presumably. Steve was choosing to balance on the fence of whether or not to believe the words of a fourteen-year-old, mostly because if he did, Steve Harrington would become subjected to the sanctimonious behavior of a cocky teenager.

And who would want that?

“Lemme do a double cheeseburger with extra pickles, uh, no tomatoes, please. Ooh, with a side of cheese fries, a strawberry shake, and I’ll get that with a Coke, too. Thanks, Benny.” Steve eyed his friend. God, that man could eat. The bustling fan that chilled Benny’s sweaty neck had proffered a wonderful alternative to the sweltering humidity that tinted the large windows with fog. Aside from the burly trucker consuming the two cups of coffee to keep him awake for the night, Steve had all respective authority to slyly grill his buddy on whatever friends-with-benefits-slash-potential-boyfriend-girlfriend dynamic he shared with you.

Fuck it. “Uh, might as well do the same, Ben, what he said.” The laminated menu went unskimmed, closed off, and collected for the owner to take.

Assuring the boys their meals would follow out quickly, they met Benny with gracious thank you’s for the service, and Steve Harrington rashly followed the movements of the older gentleman, until his being was out of ear shot, promptly snapping his head back to his friend. “Why didn’t you wanna go to the bar tonight?!” If a sign as to why Robin Buckley and Steve Harrington were soulmates, for whatever reason, needed to be clearer than it already was, the incaution- not so subtle “subtle” approach was reason enough.

“Uh,” Eddie hummed, forcing Steve’s eyes to narrow in return, “I dunno, just didn’t wanna go for drinks tonight.” He shrugged, flicking at a sugar packet he had no intentions of using.

Steve raised a brow. “Really?”

The incredulous tone was quite too bitchy for Eddie’s liking, who merely scoffed. “Can’t a guy care about his liver?”

“Ed, there’s a pack of cigarettes hangin’ in your pocket.” Steve deadpanned. “Think organ functionality is the least of your worries.” Unwelcoming to the implied suspicion of accusation behind Steve’s comment, Eddie simply chose to stay silent, finding more interest playing with the provided condiments as trinkets for his entertainment. Steve rolled his eyes. “Y’know, I saw Myra at the laundromat not too long ago.” He scratched his clean shaven chin, playing into his nonchalant bit, that only left Eddie to raise his eyebrows in confusion as to where this was going. “She looked nice; got her hair done, these pretty, little braids, y’know, with the gold cuffs and whatnot.”

Eddie’s head lolled, enjoying the simple task of his finger tracing the obscured lines of the faux granite table top, when the ketchup label had been read to its entirety. “So?”

“So,” Steve emphasized, “you coulda called her up, y’know, tell her to meet you tonight. How long has it been since you’ve seen her- or any girl for that matter?” He slyly asked.

“Not interested.” Blunt and suffice, surely enough to ward off anymore of Steve’s prodding questions.

But Steve merely scoffed. “What, in girls anymore?”

And in true Eddie Munson fashion, a shit-eating grin consumed his face, devious smile lines and all, as he leaned on perched forearms to invade Steve’s space. “Aw, why? You interested, big boy?”

Yeah, this conversation would be going nowhere.

As the sparing minutes filled to meaningless conversations, their full course dinners made the quick arrival, and Steve pondered at the various ways a confession could be pummeled out of Eddie Munson’s mouth, which was currently being stuffed to the brim with mushing bites of each food group—minus the vegetables, this was Benny’s Diner after all. There was the ex-fling route, but clearly Eddie wasn’t looking to explore that again; good news for you, at least. That is if anything Henderson claimed was actually true. Little shit-

But wait a minute, that was it! What would Dustin Henderson do?!

He could still hear his grating voice. "Well, Steve can’t flirt with Y/N, she’ll never go for it." As if. Steve Harrington could get you- hell, Steve Harrington could get anyone. Graduating out of the social hierarchy of high school totally hasn’t affected his game… totally. But digressing, if Dustin Henderson could scheme up a plan with no substance, Steve Harrington could, too. If anything, this would make so much more sense, given that Robin doesn’t even like boys. Dustin Henderson didn’t know anything, but Steve, yeah Steve Harrington was way more cunning than some snappy child with no regard for people’s business. Yeah, Steve Harrington could totally do this…

Eddie’s chewing slowed, brows cinched, as he wondered why the hell Steve Harrington had been silently smiling to himself for the past minute. And people saw him as a freak? Fucking weirdo.

“Hey, uh,” Steve cleared his throat, presumably back to being normal, allowing Eddie to continue to shove his face with a strawberry milkshake covered cheese fry, unperturbed by Steve’s judgemental grimace, “I’m thinkin’ of askin’ out Y/N.”

Suddenly caught in his throat, Eddie began coughing up the fry he just downed, as Steve smiled with such amusement at the torment he just caused his friend. Maybe Henderson was right. “W-What? You wanna what?”

“Yeah, been thinkin’ about it, and y’know, I’m really feeling her.” Steve cocked a smirk that had Eddie’s face scrunching with agitation. “Very smart, funny, really fucking pretty, so…”

“I d-don’t, um- you really think that’s a g-good idea?” Eddie adjusted in his seat, composing the bubbling feeling that stirred terribly with the monstrosity he had just eaten.

Taking a large bite from his burger, Steve grinned happily. “Why wouldn’t it be?” Hunger and entertainment wonderfully satiated on this peaceful, late Monday night.

Eddie shrugged, sulkingly throwing a stray pickle in his mouth. “I dunno, you’re just friends n’ all.” He mumbled.

“Oh!” Steve’s eyes gleamed with laughter behind them. “You don’t think friends should date-”

“No, no, no, no!” God, the last thing Eddie was about to do was inadvertently claim your relationship was some end all be all cataclysm, but did it really have to come at the expense of encouraging his friend to date his secret girlfriend?! “I-I mean, like, some friends c-can date, like, um, good friends-”

“So, me and Y/N?” Steve quietly chuckled to himself, as he watched Eddie fret with frustration.

“No- I mean, I dunno!” He exasperated, as Steve relished in his greasy food with a smile on his face. Eddie’s heart began sinking into his stomach. He understood how demeaning it would be to conclude you as the type to jump into Steve’s arms once he’d make the “inevitable” move. God, for once in his life someone with care to proffer promised him fundamental security, and there was no denying it, he felt. Felt it in your caressing hands, your saccharine words, your devoted kisses, your gentle touches- you touched with such love… at least, that's what it felt like. Does Eddie Munson even know love? He swallowed thickly. “D-Do you even think she would go for you-”

“I have personality!” Steve proclaimed, finger pointed and all, forcing Eddie to shove back in surrenderance, hands in the air, and a confused look to pair.

“Okay, I’m not sayin’ you don’t, geez.” Eddie clarified, as Steve huffed, raking a harsh hand through his Farrah Fawcett hairsprayed perfection. “J-Just maybe don’t. Like, um, i-if it doesn’t work out, it could get really bad between you two, a-and it would be fucking horrible not to have her in your life at all, you can’t lose her, man.”

Voice so small and eyes so distant, there was a deep inkling that perhaps Eddie was speaking his fears aloud. Because even in the greatness that was having the privilege of calling you his girlfriend, there was a world full of Steve Harringtons that could provide you with more than what any Eddie Munson ever could. Late at night, when the world could finally offer you both the peace to just be, entangled in arms and legs, Eddie would just stare at you and… know. Know that there is a feeling that scares the living shit out of him that he can’t feel for anyone else. A different type of feeling from the camaraderie of his club, who triumph against the evil of the universe. A different type of feeling from the shoulders he’s cried on of his uncle, because Eddie truly cannot thank him enough. You, you were a different type of feeling. One that left him just wanting to look at you, smell you, touch you, think of you all day.

This wasn’t just infatuation, god, it felt like pure fucking lo- shit, what would he know. Eddie Munson didn’t know love.

A sudden wave of regret washed over Steve, as he realized the saddened roundness of his buddy’s eyes. “Nah, man, that’s not gonna happen.” His calm voiced reassured. “I mean, it’s Y/N, why would she ever allow that to happen? Y’know, so what, things don’t work out between… me and her,” he explicated, “doesn’t mean your- I mean, our friendship has to change.” Steve watched, as Eddie nodded along, shoulders slumping in relaxation. “We talk it out, we understand each other, and we move on as friends. Together. We’ll still love each other like that. And, hey, at least we’ll both get a hot hookup out of it.” Okay, maybe he was still being a little shit, but he was only channeling his inner Henderson. Plus, the snapping glare from Eddie was quite priceless.

“Are you really gonna make a move on Y/N?” His jaw ticked with clenched teeth.

“I dunno.” Steve smiled, before snapping his fingers with a brilliant revelation, “Y’know what, I saw Robin flirting with you earlier today, how ‘bout we go on a double date?” Yeah, now he was definitely just teasing. “Hell, make it a triple one once Byers and Wheeler head back into town.”

Eddie rolled his eyes. “Robin was not flirting with me, she was just being… weird.” He pondered it for a second. What the hell was that that happened this afternoon? There’s no way she actually- no, impossible. Could she? No, that didn’t feel right. Well, maybe-

“Hey, do you actually think I have personality?” Oh, Stevie.

On Tuesday evening, the Family Video store saw the little customers it was regularly accustomed to; Mr. Fredrickson, only to be accounted for, slowly roamed the documentary section, particularly interested in the historical segment for his afternoon leisure.

The nub of his cane poked an indent into the carpeted floors, as his supported weight allowed for close inspection of the bolded titles that plastered in an array of colors. Luckily, the lens of his glasses were thick enough to provide him the ability of sight to read what was on display for night, leaving you to mindlessly thumb through this month's issue of Cosmopolitan. “Hm.” Mr. Fredrickson gruffed. “What d’ya make of the Franco-Prussian War, darlin’?”

The Proven Personal Approach to Permanent Weight Loss. An Incredible Shrinking Woman Tells How She did it! Christ. You found more interest flipping back to the written Cosmo’s quiz determining what kind of husband your current rendezvous would make.

“Uh…” Your back was beginning to ache from finding all support on your perched elbow digging into the counter, letting your cheek fall to your palm. “You did the Napoleonic Wars last time, no? Why don’t you give the French a break?” You skimmed the printed words of the glossy pages.

His wrinkled pointer finger shakingly racked through the tapes, as he took your word of advice. Your eyes were hanging onto the last bit of energy they were enduring to stay awake, but the weight of eyelids inevitably began to win, and it surely didn’t help that the liveliness of your thriving life was partaking in conversations with an elderly man who found amusement in learning about wars.

But before a potential write up—Keith never found the actual courage to do so, loved to threaten it, though—for sleeping on the job could be scolded, the welcoming bell of the front door rang loudly enough to alert some life back into your body.

“Welcome to Family Vide-euuawghh.” A guttural yawn ripped out of you, slurring your standardized greeting into an embarrassing mush of sounds.

With watery eyes scrunched from tiredness, a rushed apology to your incoming customer had proved to fall unnecessary, as a familiar chuckle addressed you back. “Aw, such rigorous labor, working my baby to death, huh?” Eddie Munson, himself, teased, as he leaned to hover over the counter and close to your sluggish face.

“Don’t tease me.” Your mouth jutted in offense, as you rubbed your eyes to the clear sight of being welcomed by Eddie’s bourbon eyes and a smug curl to his lips.

His rough-tipped thumb caressed the hairs of your brow to ease. “How can I not when it gets you to make that cute pout at me, hm?”

You piqued with giddiness. “Because I’m your girlfriend.” A label you quickly learned to adore. “And you shouldn’t be mean to your girlfriend.”

Eddie smiled a breathy chuckle, as he peered at your lips. “Yeah, you are my girlfriend, huh?” He proudly verbalized with a husk to his tone. His mouth was itching to say more, pour out all he felt for the girl standing before him, but a counter the size of the world divided the union between two beating hearts of devotion. And manifesting his words of love paved the way for the potential loss of you. But not doing so also did the same. Because he’s learned good things don’t last for Eddie Munson. And what a unless world it would be to lose the profoundness of you.

God, he wanted to punch Steve Harrington for last night.

Eddie took a deep breath. His bangs landed against your forehead, and scrunched under your nod of confirmation. You are his girlfriend. “Where’re the other two stooges?” He whispered, his breath fanning across your face.

“In the back doing inventory.” You gladly answered the words Eddie wanted to hear. He bashfully leaned in, though before his mouth could meet yours, you pulled back with furrowed brows. “Wait, ‘other two stooges,’ am I the third?”

Eddie barked out a boyish laugh, as he watched your faux face of aversion and shock. His large hands made your face feel small as he cupped your cheeks and brought you forth. “God, you’re so pretty.”

His lips crashing upon yours had wiped your expression of any annoyance you tried to playfully brat out. His mouth moved against yours so languidly, it had you falling limp to his kiss, as he expressed all that he felt with the touch of his lips. Eddie pulled away slowly, leaving you to quietly hum in retaliation and chasing his lips.

“Sorry.” He chuckled, providing you with one more loving peck. “But, hey, y’know, speaking of the other stooges, uh, Robin and Steve,” he cleared his throat, “you notice anything weird about ‘em, like lately?”

The cafeteria. “Um, yeah, actually.” You contemplated on the thought. “Why, did they say something?”

Nausea hit him like a truck, wondering if "The Hair’s" attempts to get at you were already happening quicker than expected. “S-Steve, he, uh, he said something to you?” Eddie felt his throat dry up.

“Steve? No, Steve’s been Steve, but I was mostly talking about Robin.” Jesus Christ, did you bring peace to his world.

“Oh, yeah,” He puffed a breath of relief, “um, weirdest thing happened after school yesterday, but I think Robin was hitting on me.” Confusion had been written all over your face, as you pulled back from the counter. “She was, like, totally into me.”

“What?” You chuckled. “No, not possible.”

“Okay, ow.” Eddie playfully rolled his eyes, as you laughed, rubbing a soothing hand down his arm in apology.

“I’m sorry, didn’t mean it like that” you giggled, “but I’m sure you probably just misread things, you know? Robin finds you charming in a platonic way, like with Steve.”

Eddie straightened up. “No, I’m telling you, sweetheart, she was all over me.” He persisted. “I mean, for crying out loud, she was touching my bicep.”

A smug smile took over your face, as you arched your brow at him. “This bicep?” You teasingly squeezed his soft arm.

Eddie scoffed. “Well, it’s not flexed right now.”

The back storage unit of Family Video had been littered with an influx of tapes, both coated in dust to be long forgotten and pristine with the newest release of what Hollywood had to offer. This year’s box office hit Top Gun starring Nancy Wheeler’s poster boy, Tom Cruise, or the fourteen-year-old The Ruling Class with the musical humor following a priest’s death due to his autoerotic asphyxiation kink? Robin Buckley laughed. Always the latter.

“God, can’t believe Keith expects us to organize this junk.” Steve huffed, swiping his palms against each other, only to scowl at the specks of dust that floated into the air under the beaming sunlight. “I should be seeing Bridget right now, or Heidi, or taking out Linda, maybe Jeanie, haven’t talked to her in a minute.” Robin rolled her eyes at the endless sex-capades that was Steve Harrington’s love life. Christ, she couldn’t even get a clear sign that Vickie from chemistry wasn’t standing so straight. “Or-or maybe Y/N.” He chuckled to himself.

“What?” Robin prodded.

“Oh, yeah, I forgot to tell you, last night I was completely bugging out Munson, and told him I was planning on askin’ out Y/N.” Steve laughed, briefly coughing as dust particles blew off the VHS tapes.

Robin was only left deadpanning in disappointment. “You did what now?” She scoffed. “You’re supposed to be on my side, I thought we were supposed to let it go?”

“You’re the one flirting with your friend’s boyfriend.” He argued.

“Because that little twerp forced me to!” The Ruling Class came hurdling to his chest, as she chucked it.

Shoving old movies aside, Steve grappled onto the box of new releases to shove into Robin’s arms, as he handled the second load. “Look, it doesn’t matter anymore, there are no sides, as much as I hate to admit it, Henderson was right about those two screwing.” Steve enthused. “You should’ve seen the look on Eddie’s face when I told him I was gonna make a move on Y/N.”

Robin huffed. “Okay, so let’s just leave it at that and let them screw in peace- or, even better yet, let’s just tell them we know, so they can have the freedom to do what they want.”

“Aw, but where’s the fun in that?” Steve whined.

Robin laughed at his childish mewl. “And, unless Munson gets rid of the thing in his pants and learns to grow a cup or two, I am not flirting with him again.” She playfully gagged, while reminiscing on yesterday’s events.

“Please,” Steve derided, “you can’t even look Vickie in the eye, I highly doubt if Munson suddenly grew some tits you’d become some sort of Casanova.” He snorted, opening the door. “Mr. Bicep?”

Before Robin’s sneaker could step foot back into the main lobby of Family Video, Steve’s grasp onto the collar of her shirt flung her back into the storage room, with a slam to the door. “Are you inane?!” She chastised, while attempting to find her balance with a ten pound box of VHS tapes.

“Munson’s out there!” He whisper-yelled into her face.

“Okay, so?”

“So, we gotta get in there, and stir the pot a little.” His brows danced impishly against his forehead.

Robin’s face dropped vacantly. “What about anything that I literally just said didn’t click for you?” A smack against his head from her hand had him reeling back in defense.

“Ow, okay, I get it, Munson doesn’t have boobs.” Steve huffed, rubbing out the dulling pain. “But, look, Dustin wasn’t that far off, a little encouragement doesn’t harm anyone. He thinks that you like him and that I like her, you’re telling me this isn’t even a little funny to you?” My god, did Steve Harrington have a charming way of flaunting that stupid smirk that had Robin hold back a chuckle. Because in retrospect, Eddie Munson believing his lesbian friend had a crush on him, while her partner in crime, her himbo, had a supposed liking to his secret girlfriend was quite funny. Funny like a priest dying from his autoerotic asphyxiation kink.

She sighed, giving him a pointed glare. “One time, Harrington. This is the one and only time I will ever flirt with a man again.”

Steve threw his hands up in defense, as a smile lingered on his face. “Highly doubt there will ever be a time in which I ask you to do that again.” He laughed, while slinging the door open. “Plus, it’s Munson. I’m sure his cynicism won’t even count it as flirting.”

“Well, Y/N's flirting surely worked.” She joked, as they stepped out.

“You think it’s because he has personality or nice hair?” Steve interrogated. “Because I sure as hell have way better hair than him.”

Despite your alluring face, Eddie caught a glimpse of Steve and Robin making their way over while looking past your shoulder, forcing him to make the regretful decision to back away from you. “Ed.” Your tiny pout of confusion made it all that harder, until Steve’s voice boomed out.

“Hey, y’know, as a customer, you’re supposed to actually rent something!” Him and Robin joined you both at the counters, where they sat the boxes of movies. “Or, you could, y’know, stock shelves with us.”

Eddie flipped him the bird, as he smiled. “Actually, I was just stoppin’ by to ask if Halloween is still rented out.” He turned to look down at you with a smirk. “Is it?”

“I can go check that for you.” Your sweet customer service voice had him biting back a grin, as you stepped away to the computer.

As Steve and Robin began displacing films from the boxes, his elbow nudged her side to grab her attention away from organizing. “Just keep it casual.” He whispered, as she rolled her eyes. “Look, I’m sure if you unfocus your eyes, the five o’clock shadow will go away, and he’ll totally look just like Vickie.” And he huffed right back when Robin rightfully scoffed at him. “What? They have the same eyes… just, y’know, different color… and shape.”

Robin waved him off before anything further could come out of his mouth. With The Fly nestled in her grasp, Steve threw her a nod of encouragement, before scurrying to the shelves with a small laugh escaping his lips.

“Sorry, Eds.” You clicked off the computer. “Landon K. beat you to it; no Halloween.”

“Should totally check out The Fly.” Robin slyly imposed, as she handed him the film. “Can never go wrong with some Cronenberg, right?” Eddie inspected the film with a shrug. “Sure, better than taking movie suggestions from Harrington.”

There came the inordinate laugh from Robin that had Eddie throwing you a knowing glance, and Robin, herself, internally dying inside. “Ha! Always so funny!” She clumsily fist-bumped his arm. “Uh- anyway! Better get back to work.” A large smile flashed both your ways.. “I, uh, I’ll see you later… handsome.” And following in the footsteps of her grandmother when she wasn’t screaming something batshit crazy, Robin Buckley pinched Eddie Munson’s cheek before running away to Steve Harrington.

“You pinched his cheek?!” Steve contemptuously chortled in her frazzled face that burned with embarrassment.

Robin’s hands smack her face, dragging the skin down, as she groaned. “Well, I don’t know how to do the whole flirting thing!” Her fist came smacking down at his chest.

Steve bent at the waist with a cramping stomach of laughter “Okay, yeah, but he’s not a baby!”

Your eyes followed Robin’s running figure until she disappeared into the maze of shelves, and you incredulously turned to your stunned boyfriend. With his mouth wide, and eyes bulging, Eddie fretfully spoke. “Okay, did you see that?! With the compliment, and the pinching?!”

You bewilderedly settled at the realization. “Actually, I did.” You couldn’t believe it. Your best friend was flirting with you boyfriend- well, technically, she had no clue he was your boyfriend, but still- Eddie? Not to sell your boyfriend short, god, he was perfect in every way, but Robin? Robin and Eddie?!

“Okay, so now do you believe that she’s attracted to me?” He persisted.

You thought for a second, and Eddie Munson watched your face drop with concern, as your hand clutched your chest. “Oh, my god! Oh, my god! She knows about us!” You cautiously warbled, as you began pacing about behind the counter.

Eddie’s face scrunched with distress. “Are you serious?”

“Robin knows, and she’s just trying to freak us out!” You belabored, anxiously looking back to where Steve and Robin could no longer be seen. Your hands dramatically dropped at the revelation. “That’s the only explanation for it!”

Eddie vacillated at the unwarranted insult. “Okay, but what about my pinchable face and bulging biceps?” He confidently pointed to his arm, before the lacking muscle of scrawiness suddenly hit him like a truck. “She knows!”

Your hand comically slapped the counter, as you chuckled in disbelief at her attempt to fool you. “Oh, man, she probably thinks she’s so slick for messing with us.” Eddie joined in, frenziedly laughing, completely feeling stupefied, though giving props to the mastermind, nonetheless. Impressed he was. “But, hey, you know what? She doesn’t know we know she knows, so…”

“Ah, yes!” Eddie piqued with interest. “The messers become the messees!”

“You sure you kids are alright?” Shrugging on his utility jacket for the night, the aging lines of Wayne Munson’s forehead scrunched with suspicion for the nightly activity his nephew and his supposed “friend” were going to be up to.

Sure, the sight of you over at his trailer wasn’t something peculiar, in fact, for the past months, you, in particular, were the only one of Eddie’s buddies who made a regular appearance to their humble abode. Why? Well that was a question that still went unanswered whenever Wayne tried to prod into the life of his nephew. But the way Eddie would blush, while simultaneously attempting to quickly change the subject, made Wayne’s throat tickle with a chuckle.

Who the hell were you two fooling?

But now, with much concern from Wayne, it seemed as though Eddie’s oddities had begun rubbing off on you, as you both strangely huddled around the yellow home phone, clearly waiting for the second Wayne would close the door behind, as he left for the graveyard shift.

Attempting to “casually” lean against the paneling of the wall, Eddie’s head was quick to snap up and down in return. “Yeah, yeah.” He rushed. “Better get goin’, don’t wanna be late for the bosses.” He threw an overcompensating smile, as you sat at the kitchen table, merely following suit to that of your “friend.” Wayne Munson couldn’t care less about the bosses.

“Alright then.” The old man huffed, picking up the keys of his pick-up truck, letting the humid spring breeze waft through the front door. “Get ‘er some dinner if you’re makin’ ‘er stay late.”

“As always.” Eddie threw you a sly wink, as Wayne left with a quick exchange of goodbye thrown from both parties, until the front door finally closed.

At the click, you sprung from your chair, snatching the phone out of the receiver to hand to Eddie, to which he happily grabbed with a maniacal snicker. “You sure she’s over at Steve’s?”

Your fingers were fervent with the harsh press to the buttons, dialing the numbers to phone the Harrington residence. “Uh huh, something about watching Fast Times with Robin.” The second your finger pressed down on the last digit, you were quick to maneuver the phone against Eddie’s ear. “Okay, just stick to the script.”

Eddie scoffed, flipping his hair back. “Sweetheart, please, I was able to get you, I sure as hell can get Robin.” Your hand met his chest with a chastising slap. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding.” He laughed.

Up the road, on the secluded sector of Cornwallis Street, Robin Buckley was anxiously plowing through a bowl of popcorn, as the fifty-second minute was fastly approaching, and suddenly Phoebe Cates was climbing out of the pool with the detrimental ambience of teenage horniness.

“Here it comes, here it comes!” Steve snickered, as he absentmindedly chewed on a licorice piece.

Robin’s cheeks flushed with embarrassment. “God, Steve, you don’t have to point out the obvious!” But after forcing her friend to endure two hours and thirty-four minutes of the satirical musical critique of institutional religion that was The Ruling Class, Steve decided to return the torture by subjection of… boobies.

“What I’m point out is the fact that Vickie lived through this exact moment, meaning she was staring at boobies, meaning-”

“Don’t say it!”

“Vickie likes boobies!” Steve implored, the largest grin on his face, as he watched Robin slap her hands onto her face at a brutal attempt to shield herself from the mortifying experience that was having Steve Harrington as a friend.

But, in slow motion, as Phoebe Cates’ fingers clutched onto the center hook of her bikini bra, the phone shrilled, allowing Robin to exhale a “thank god,” as Steve’s attention begrudgingly turned to the incoming call.

Swiftly jumping to the end table, Steve picked up the brick phone. “Yeah, hello?” He spoke, munching on another rope of his candy, surely missing the quick glances Robin was making back at the TV. Steve’s brows piqued at the static voice. “Oh! Yeah, she’s right here!” Turning to Robin, his hand cupped over the speaker, as he giddily shoved the phone to her. “It’s Eddie, he’s probably gonna cave in.” He whispered.

Rolling her eyes, Robin cleared her throat from any stray popcorn kernel, ready to end this once and for all. “Hello?”

Back at Forest Hills, your toes pressed against the linoleum tiling of the kitchen floor to push yourself up to his height, smushing your ear against the other side of the phone, as mischievous smiles consumed both your faces. “Hello, Robin… I’ve been thinkin’ about you all day.” Eddie channeled his most suave voice, forcing you to bite back a laugh, suppressing your mouth into his shoulder.

“Huh?!” Devious as ever, both you and Eddie almost broke at her considerable shock.

Steve raised a questioning brow, attempting to scoot closer, only for Robin to preserve her personal bubble and shove him back. Much to his nosey dismay. “Well, y’know that thing you said before, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t intrigued.” Eddie teased, as you nodded your head along to show your proudness for your boyfriend flirting with your friend.

Yeah, things in Hawkins, Indiana surely were weird.

“R-Really?” Robin choked, as the popcorn in her stomach suddenly turned at the uneasiness of male attention. Gross.

Ever the villain, Eddie smiled triumphantly. “Yeah, listen my uncle isn’t gonna be here tonight, so why don’t you come over, and I’ll let you, uh, feel my bicep… or maybe more.” You quietly chuckled. God, what a cute loser.

Robin grimaced, stuttering with concern. “Uh, you know, I-I’ll have to get b-back to you on that, uh, okay, bye!” She was quick to hang up the phone, while you and Eddie intimately celebrated in the lonesome of his kitchen with silly squeals and tiny jumps. “Oh, my god! He wants me to come over to feel his bicep and more!”

Steve Harrington was left speechless at Robin’s panicked announcement, as his mouth hung wide. “Are you kidding?!”

“No!” She gagged. “I know what I heard!”

Steve felt incredulously at the scumminess of his friend. “I cannot believe he would do that to… wait a second.” His brows furrowed. Eddie Munson nearly launched at the chance to shut down any ideas of Steve dating you, why on Earth would he suddenly- oh, shit. “They know!”

“What?!”

“They know that we know!” Steve clarified, as the gears in Robin’s head turned, until her face was enlightened with the fact of the matter which was that her best friend was trying to deceive her right back!

She gasped. “I can’t believe those two!” Instantaneously, any reservations Robin initially had for Steve and Dustin’s plan had left, as all she felt was dramatic offense at the idea of trying to be demeaned.

“They thought that they could mess with us?!” Steve proclaimed.

“They’re trying to mess with us?!” In disbelief, both friends chuckled with bewilderment at the unexpected slyness coming from you two. That was, until Robin Buckley schemed with realization. “They don’t know we know they know we know!”

Steve’s face scrunched with confusion, though nonetheless a team player, he nodded along, giggling at Robin’s wicked implication. Suddenly, a call to the Henderson household was in need.

Dustin Henderson’s calves burned under the rigorous strain of bike riding from the northern end of Cornwallis street to reach Steve’s house. Haphazardly disposing his bicycle in the driveway, Dustin had barged in with no warning, coming face-to-face with Robin Buckley, resident polyglot band geek, wearing Mrs. Harrington’s blue cocktail dress, as Steve Harrington, retired king of Hawkins High, played makeup artist with his mother’s newly bought red lipstick in hand.

It was undeniable at this point, Hawkins, Indiana was most definitely weird.

“Would you just quit moving, so I can put this on you?!” The vein on Steve’s forehead became pronounced under the immense pressure he felt. Being a makeup artist surely wasn’t easy, especially when your client was nagging about the intense blush placement of his work.

“Enough with the makeup, it’s Eddie for Christ sake!” Robin complained, enduring the endeavor of trying to shove Mrs. Harrington’s shoes onto her feet. God, why was the woman’s shoe size so small?!

“Really Steve?!” Robin and Steve jumped at the intruding voice of Dustin, as the kid stood with his hands on his hips, imitating the signature pose of the man before him. “That’s totally not her color, you’re making her look like a clown!”

Both parties scoffed, rightfully offended.

Robin pushed Steve away, rubbing her cheeks harshly to blend out the monstrosity that was Steve’s makeup skills. “Okay, this is plenty!” She stressed. “We’re gonna call him, we’re gonna get that date, and we’re gonna win!”

The boys cheered, Dustin more so heavily appreciative of this new Buckley mentality, as they circled around her when she reached for the phone. “Mm! You better grab a spring roll before I eat ‘em all.” Eddie’s crowded mouth of mashed vegetables spoke. Chinese had been delivered in the wake of your celebration, congratulating both of you for your—mostly Eddie—duplicitously clever work.

In the midst of diving into your tangled lo mein, the phone shrilled, which had Eddie springing from the couch. “Probably calling back to surrender!” You cheered, as Eddie snickered, sliding his socked feet into the kitchen. “Good job on creeping her out, babe!”

Eddie bowed, accepting whatever weird kind of praise that was, before answering the phone with a muffled mouth of spring rolls. “Hello?”

“Be sexy.” Steve encouraged, eliciting a scoff from Robin, as she turned her focus onto the phone call.

“Hi!” Both terribly displeased with her lack of commitment, Robin was met with strict glares from Dustin and Steve to amp it up… so, she did. Clearing her throat, she dropped an octave to obtain the sultriness of what she could only assume Roxie Rockett and Viola Diamond to sound like. “Uh, I mean, hey, you.” Robin Buckley wanted to puke. “So, Eddie, I’d love to come over tonight.”

A piece of pork was hacked from Eddie’s throat, as he choked on his food. “R-Really?!”

Watching his face drop, you stood with concern wondering what was going on on the other line. “Oh, absolutely. Should we say around nine?” Eddie checked his clock. In fifteen fucking minutes?!

But Eddie Munson wasn’t going to back down. Eddie Munson, Dungeon Master of the great Hellfire, who’s pushed his men to prevail against the nefarious dark lords of villages and towns alike, was not going to be defeated by Trumpet Girl. The man glared his eyes. “Yes.” He tested.

Robin Buckley accepted his challenge. “Good.” She smiled, as she watched Steve motion for her to crank it up a notch. “Uh, I’m really looking forward to you and I h-having sexual intercourse.” The phone hung up and flung from her hands the second the words left her mouth.

Eddie Munson’s face dropped. Dustin Henderson gagged. Steve Harrington laughed. And Robin Buckley wanted to crawl into a hole to forever perish in the depths of torturous hell.

Because that’s what it felt like to flirt with a man.

“Okay, showtime!” Dustin applauded from the backseat of Steve’s car, where Robin scrambled to effortlessly scrunch her hair around.

“Here’s the perfume.” Steve pushed down the nozzle of the stolen fragrance of his mother’s collection—thanking god for the moment that she wasn’t here—where his finger spritzed numerous doses against Robin, causing the car to invade with the nauseating scent of strong, overpowering flowers.

Robin coughed. “Alright, quit it! The kid has allergies.”

“I have allergies!” Dustin sneezed.

Steve huffed in annoyance, watching as Robin unbuckled from her seat. The beaming headlights that had once reflected off the vinyl-covered walls of the trailer had been switched off for stake-out purposes, as Steve’s car parked in the open area of the Munson home in the quiet night.

“Hand over the wine, Henderson.” Buckled next to the seat of Dustin’s—for protective measures—a bottle of his parent's stolen chardonnay rested like a passenger on board; Steve’s, ever the romantic, suggestion for the authenticity of a real date.

“Is this really necessary?” Robin truly had no room to talk, she most definitely hadn’t experienced the polarizing events of the dating scene, let alone ones of heterosexual realms (thankfully).

Scoffing, Steve was galled by the dig at his—for once—knowledgeable expertise of life phenomena. “Are you kidding, chicks go for this shit.” Surely, Bridget, Heidi, Linda, and Jeanie can attest to his opinion.

“Yeah, well, Munson’s definitely not a chick… unfortunately.” She mumbled.

“Huh?” Dustin asked.

Robin was quick to shut up in a panic. “Nothing!”

“Look, just get in there, and do your thing, alright?” Whatever attempt at a pep talk this was from Steve Harrington devastatingly fell short, as the last thing Robin Buckley expected to do on her Tuesday night was go out on a date with a man, who so happened to be her best friend’s boyfriend. Thing?! What thing?! She couldn’t even stare her crush in the eye for Christ sake, Steven! Robin Buckley has no thing! And Eddie Munson unfortunately does- the repulsing (to her) kinda thing that Robin Buckley doesn’t even like! She huffed. “Just take it easy. The second Munson lets you in, we’ll sneak up to the door, and hear through there.”

On the edge of his bed, Eddie Munson let your hands wander about, until his appearance was up to your liking; voluminous hair, controlled friz, straightened shirt, and a bottle of minty mouth spray that he coughed at, but necessary for the prevention of spring roll breath. “Okay, you’re gonna be great!” You motivated him with the words of encouragement, as you brushed away his stray hairs. “You just make her think you want to have sex with her, and it’ll totally freak her out.”

Eddie straightened up, shaking his body from any jitters, and stretching as if a marathon was in place. “Okay, so how far am I exactly supposed to go with her?” His face etched with concern.

You waved him off. “Relax, alright, she’s gonna give in way before you do!” If there was anything you learned about Robin Buckley in your months of friendship, it was the blatantly obvious fact that she would shrivel up in awkwardness before anything further took place.

Eddie Munson freaked at your sudden certainty. “How do you even know?!”

“Because you’re on my team!” You stressed. “And my team always wins!”

His face scrunched with fret. “At this?!”

Tentative knocking against the front door pulled you both away from the conversation. It was game time. “Eddie,” his head whipped back to you, “you’re the Dungeon Master, okay? This, this is nothing in comparison to dark lord wizard thingies.” God, he knew for certain you didn’t fully understand his interest in Dungeons and Dragon, but the time you took to support him was making his heart beat faster than any fake date with your best friend could ever make him feel.

You make him feel such incredible things.

“You’re the master here, you’re in control, you got this!” Jesus Christ, the corny shit your competitiveness was making you say was too fucking cute. “Just go get some!” You finished him with a quick kiss that had him yearning for more, but your body quickly scurried away to the bathroom.

Eddie Munson sighed. Cracking his neck, he rolling his shoulder. “I’m the Dungeon Master. I’m in control.”

Steve clutched a heavy hand on his steering wheel, as both him and Dustin peered through the windows. “Okay, just wait for it… wait for it… wait- get down!” The boys dropped their heads the second Eddie’s front door opened with a dramatic swing.

And there she was. Eddie cocked an eyebrow for whatever reason it was Robin Buckley chose to show up overly dressed like a middle-aged woman, and with an awkward smile to taint her image. But Eddie Munson was right there to follow suit with a strange grin to greet her.

“Robin.”

“Eddie.”

“Come on in.”

“I was going to.”

As the trailer door closed shut, Steve and Dustin silently crawled their way out of the car with their utmost quietest attempts of closing the doors shut behind them. With crouched stances like detectives on duty, the pair scampered their way to the top of Eddie’s cemented stairs, where their heads pressed against the front door to hear the muffled conversation from the other side.

“I, uh, brought some wine.” Robin held up the bottle, as Eddie was slightly taken aback. What the hell kinda teenager brings wine to a date? Probably the kind who’s a lesbian, and going out with her best friend’s boyfriend out of competition. “Would you like some?”

“Oh, uh, sure.” Making their way to the kitchen, Eddie secured two cups, as Robin popped off the protruding cork top, and suddenly she felt entirely even more stupid than the fact that she was on a “date” with a man, when Eddie proffered matching Garfield and Odie mugs for glasses of chardonnay.

The dreadful silence began to take over, and Eddie could only manage to fill it with thorny chuckles, as Robin filled the mugs. “So, uh,” she sighed, “here we are. Nervous?”

“Me? No. You?” He skeptically questioned.

But Robin Buckley was there to provoke him. “No, I want this to happen.”

“So do I.” Eddie cleared his throat, before their glasses clicked with a toast, and Robin and Eddie found themselves chugging down the mug-fulls of alcohol to hopefully forget the disturbing night they were about to endure. When cups fell empty, Eddie sighed and turned to the radio that rested atop of the washing machine. “Why don’t I, uh, play some music; set the mood a little.”

Call her inexperience, whatever, but Robin knew there was no way in hell the screeching voices of Slayer attested to “setting the mood” during date night. God, she felt bad for you- for straight women. “Maybe-maybe I’ll, uh, dance for you.” She dared right back.

Where Robin could judge Eddie on his music taste, Eddie could return the favor in her lack of mobility, as her body began clumsily swaying about in his kitchen, off rhythm to the already undanceable sounds to thrashing metal. Her contorting ankles in kitten heels paired with her jutting hips allowed her to mortifyingly saunter her way over to an uncomfortable Eddie, who was wielding the willpower to not bark a laugh in her face.

But Robin Buckley was not going to win this. Not when Eddie Munson’s pride stood in the way. “Mm, you look good.” He spoke so stiffly, as he defied back with a taunting grin.

“Why, thank you.” She forced out a laugh. “Y-You know, when you say things l-like that, it makes me wanna, um, rip that… Weird Al t-shirt right off.” Jesus Christ, Dustin made him get matching ones.

“Okay,” he cleared his throat, “well, uh, why don’t we move this to the bedroom then?” His brows pointed, eyes glared.

Robin immediately stopped her bizarre dancing. “Really?” Her panic settled in.

“Oh!” Eddie quickly stepped back with an impeding smile. “Do you not want to?” He urged.

“No, no.” Robin composed herself, waving him off with faux confidence. “I just, um, you know, first, I wanna t-take off all my clothes, and have you r-rub lotion all over me.” Is that what straight people do before sex?!

Eddie’s throat constricted with little air, and a tightening hand of embarrassment. “Well, that would be nice.” His voice raised a cracking octave. “I’ll, uh, go get the lotion.” Before Robin could respond, Eddie was already running away to the bathroom. Your gnawing teeth had bitten through your nail when Eddie came bustling through the door. “Okay, this is totally getting out of hand.” He fretfully groused, as he crowded your area in the small room. “She wants me to put lotion on her!” Eddie dramatically snarled.

You rebuffed his dread. “She’s bluffing!”

Eddie huffed. “Look, she’s not backing down. Jesus, shit, she went like this!” He suddenly gyrated his stiff hips harshly against you to mimic her dancing.

A couple feet away at the front door of Eddie’s trailer, Robin was in consternation, frantically rambling to Steve and Dustin. “He is not backing down! He went to get lotion!”

“You aren’t done yet?” Dustin heaved. “You’re supposed to be on my team, he should be cracking right now!”

Her angry finger flicked against his forehead, despite his insistent cries of pain. “This is all your fault to begin with!”

“Okay, will everybody just calm down for a second?” Steve hushed, where his hands found the relaxing perch against his hips, as if his motherly duties were calling. “Think of it this way, the sooner you get Eddie to break, the sooner this can all be over with.”

“Ooh, I like that.” Robin nodded along.

“Just amp the flirting, alright?” Steve coached. “Look, it took him weeks to actually approach a girl at the bar, he used to get totally flustered whenever he’d play wingman for me. How the hell managed to get Y/N? I don’t know, but all I do know is that just like you, Eddie Munson is a total dud when it comes to flirting.”

Her mouth fell agape at the insult that stung too much from the utter reality of the statement. It didn’t make her feel any better when Dustin shoved that patronizing look in her face. “Yeah, Robin, sweetie, you are not doing a good job right now.”

“How would you know? You’re fourteen!” She bellowed.

“And yet, which one of us is in a loving, committed relationship?” The kid snided.

Steve shushed Dustin away before a catfight could break out on the doorstep of Eddie’s home. “Look, you got this. Just make Munson uncomfortable! You’re a girl, you got this!”

“He’s a boy, he makes me uncomfortable!” She spat.

Ransacking his bathroom cabinets for a bottle of lotion, you hastily shoved the bottle into his grasp, and clutched onto his shoulders. “You go back in there, and you seduce her till she cracks!” Never in a million years did you think you’d encourage your boyfriend to do that. Though with this much commitment, he should really get you into Dungeons and Dragons.

“Okay, just give me a second.” He took a deep breath for composure, just as he got a good glimpse of his bathroom. “Did you clean up in here?!” Your eyes rolled, before grappling onto the doorknob, and pushing Eddie out of the bathroom. He slowly approached the kitchen, where his nervousness eased at the sight of Robin at the door. “Oh, you’re, uh… you’re going!” He smiled.

Steve Harrington's voice replayed in her head, and Robin cleared her throat to pull out the sultry crisp she was needing to flirt. “Um, not without you, lover.”

Eddie flashed her a tight-lipped smile, as he released a big sigh. “Well, uh, come here.” He beckoned. “I’m very happy we’re gonna have all the sex.”

Robin ignored the disgust in her belly to test him. “Y-You should be.” She smirked. “I’m very bendy.” Eddie’s eyebrows pulled with fright, as she stepped closer. “I’m going to k-kiss you now.”

And Eddie bothered her right back. “Not if I, um, kiss you first!” With a foot apart, Robin Buckley made her first move on a man, as her stiff hand latched uncomfortably to Eddie’s waist. Devastatingly following in line, Eddie’s fingertips barely grazed her skin, as they lightly rested onto her shoulder, neither party urging anyone to come closer. “Well, I-I guess there’s nothing left for us to do than to kiss.”

“Here it comes.” With rigid lips tucked inward, and tense bodies hesitantly pulling together, Eddie Munson genuinely began to realize how much of a idiotic idea all this was. A nauseating feeling struck him, as he understood what a lousy world it’d be to live in if he had to continue to disguise his feelings for you. I mean, going on a date with your best friend? This is the lengths he’s going to to hide something so perfect? And Robin. For the love of god, if picturing Joan Jett over Eddie’s face was needed to make this experience slightly less miserable, then, yeah, maybe this plan was stupid all along.

“Okay, okay, okay! Fine, you win!” Eddie pulled away, as Robin’s face astounded. “I will not have sex with you!” He huffed with exhaustion.

“And why not?” Robin smiled, as the victory was coming her way.

“Because I’m in love with Y/N!”

“You’re-you’re what?” The front door jolted open, as Steve Harrington and Dustin Henderson hurdled their way in, but Eddie took no notice of the peculiarity in that. Not when he heard the bathroom door open behind him.

“Love her!” He proclaimed at the top of lungs. “That’s right! I love her!” Eddie pointed to you, as you made your way closer. “I love her! I’m in love with her!” And suddenly, the reality of you actually standing in front of him hit him, and Eddie realized the weight of what he just admitted to you… and his friends. Eddie took a deep breath, as he solemnly stared down at you, and in an instant, he felt his body calm at the sight of your smile. “I love you, Y/N.”

His hands took solace against your warm cheeks, where you stared up at with adoration in your eyes. “I love you, Eddie.” Your arms circled around his neck, as his desperate hands clung to your shirt to pull you into an intoxicating kiss that had you both mewling with tenderness. This was it. Eddie Munson knew love.

That was until Robin spoke. “Oh, my god, you guys! We thought you were just doing it, we didn’t know you were in love!” She gushed.

Steve shyly smiled from the back. “Dude!” He effused.

“Aha!” And then there was Dustin Henderson. “I told you! I told all of you! And none of you wanted to believe me! I was right and you were wrong!” He pompously smiled, before turning to you and Eddie. “By the way, I was the first to know! I’ve been knowing for a week after you freaks forced me to lose my dice!”

Eddie chuckled, as his hands stayed secured around you. “Actually, Dustin, Max was kinda the first to know. She found out four months ago, when she caught Y/N leaving my place at night.” He admitted. “Been blackmailed ever since; spent $20 on some damn heart-shaped sunglasses.”

“Are you kidding me!” Dustin felt gobsmacked, betrayed and abandoned, like those damn Fritos.

“Hey, but, uh, hats off to you, Robin.” Eddie smiled, offering a hand of congratulation. “Quite the competitor.” And she shook it proudly, another notch in whatever weird belt this was.

“I still can’t believe you never told me.” Dustin gasped. “I mean, seriously, Max out of all people.” Dustin Henderson, Steve Harrington, and Eddie Munson’s voices eventually faded into the background, as you managed to slip away from your boyfriend’s grasp to hold onto the hand of your best friend, while you whisked her away to the quiet corner of the living room.

“Hey, so I just wanted to apologize to you real quick.” You softly smiled at Robin. “I mean, going through all this just because I kept this from you,” you sighed, “I’m just really sorry you were forced to date my boyfriend.”

Robin laughed, as she squeezed your hand. “I’m sorry you’re forced to date him everyday.” She joked. “No, but seriously, you don’t have to apologize at all.” Her throat began to sting with the heftiness of her feelings, but she felt the warmth of fingers against hers, and Robin Buckley took her deep breath. “I understand why you did it- why you felt the need to hide.”

“You do?”

“Yeah.” She tearfully smiled. “I feel the same way, just a little different. I just, um, I know what it’s like to want to keep something to yourself, because having to come out as something you know the world isn’t going to love is scary. It’s really scary, Y/N.” Her hand tightened, as her voice cracked.

But in true Buckley style, that beautiful smile never left her face, as she told you her biggest fear. But what a shame it was that the world made her biggest fear her truest self. Your arms wrapped around her in a suffocating hug, where she let out a shaky sigh against your shoulder. “Robin,” you whispered into her hair, “I love you.” You implored. “Eddie does. Steve does. I hope you know that this town isn't worth being scared of.” You felt her shudder against you, as your hand soothed down her back. “Not when you’re so goddamn perfect.” Robin laughed, as she pulled away, clearing her eyes from any unspilled tears that threatened to stain her cheeks. “I know it’s easier said than done, but genuinely, don't waste your perfect self on what the world wants.” She digested your words, flashing you a thankful grin, as she steady to jumping nerves. “I mean, take it from the man himself, your date tonight, who’s univocally himself.”

You both turned to the kitchen, where Steve and Eddie had Dustin pinned, with a spring roll in hand, trying to shove it down the defiant kid’s mouth. “Jesus, I really am sorry you have to date him.”

You both laughed, as you watched the commotion take place. And you looked at Eddie Munson, how effortlessly beautiful he was, and how comfortable those around him came to be in his accepting presence. “He’s not too bad.” You smiled. “Now, c’mon, we have Chinese and chardonnay to celebrate!”

Finally letting the child go, Steve snagged the spring roll with a monumental bite of pleasure, before closely crowding into Eddie’s bubble. “No, but seriously, dude, how the hell did you do it?” Steve Harrington pointed to you, as Eddie Munson smiled.

#stranger things #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #steve harrington #robin buckley #dustin henderson

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juniperskye · 11 months ago

Text

What are the chances?

Sneak peek: Aaron and you match on Tinder and have been messaging back and forth over the summer…who’d have thought that meet the teacher night would bring him face to face with the woman he’s been sexting.

Aaron Hotchner x Teacher! Reader

Smut/Fluff

Word count: 5335

I have been writing this for weeks and I’m not sure about it – feedback is welcomed (as long as its constructive) Also I am using personal knowledge of teaching (as I work in a school) if it doesn't match your personal experiences I am sorry. Not edited - please be kind.

Warnings: 18+, minors DNI, language, sexting, tinder, online dating, explicit description of sexual activity, age gap (legal - Aaron is 45 Reader is 26), unsolicited sexual messages via dm, mentions of Jack, New Girl reference, mentions of school, teaching, insecurities, mentions of cheating, let me know if I missed anything!

I do not consent to having my work translated or reposted to any other site. That being said I do not own the characters portrayed in this story.

Your phone buzzing pulled your attention away from the book you’d been reading. The notification illuminating your screen was one that filled you with dread.

You had joined Tinder at the suggestion of your colleague, she claimed that after your last relationship plus the significant amount of time you’ve been single equated to you needing to join the dating app.

This on its own wasn’t what was tying your stomach in knots, that was the fact that since you’d downloaded the god forsaken app you’d received a disturbing amount of unsolicited dick pics. Tonight, however, would bring a positive change. You had swiped right on a particularly handsome man a few days ago and had been silently hoping to match with him ever since. You had honestly given up hope until now.

Swiping over on the notification to launch the app would allow you to remind yourself of how handsome this guy actually was.

“Alright Aaron let’s take another look at this profile” you mumbled to yourself as you slid further down the couch.

Scrolling through his pictures you couldn’t help but smile. He only had three, but they were good. The first picture was a close up of him in a suit, he wore a subtle smile and his eyes looked so inviting. The second picture was him in a black T-shirt he looked as though he’d been laughing or maybe talking, a big grin on his face. The third photo…this one left your mouth dry. He’d clearly been on a golf course, the photo taken without his knowledge, but his arms…the way they were flexed and the veins that bulged in his forearms and hands. God the thoughts you had about what he could do with those hands.

You shook your head, trying to rid your mind of the vulgar thoughts you were having about this perfect stranger. He was hot, you couldn’t deny it, but his bio drew you in even further, it was to the point but definitely had you wanting to know more.

I’m a single dad and a workaholic. I love the Beatles. Looking for something real.

It felt like someone may have guided him through it, but you could tell the sentiment was genuine. He was a single dad and you loved that he wasn’t hiding that. It wasn’t something that would deter you from getting to know him either. You loved kids, that’s why you’d become a teacher.

You had mentioned that in your bio, it was short and sweet and exactly you.

I’m a 3rd grade teacher, I love music and reading, and yes, “I have touched glitter in the last 24 hours!”.

You’d thought about messaging him right away but ultimately decided against it. Not wanting to seem too eager, you’d give it some time and who knows, maybe he’d even message you first.

It had been an entire week since you’d swiped right and now he was finally messaging you. He’d kept it pretty simple, but it was late and given the previous messages you’d received at this hour, you were feeling pretty weary about opening his message.

A: Hello, I wanted to message you sooner, but I wasn’t sure how to start this conversation.

Y: Hi 😊 and no worries I get it. Online dating doesn’t exactly have the same effect as an in-person conversation.

A: Precisely. How are you?

Y: I’m doing good, tired. You?

A: I’m good, thank you.

A: I’m so sorry, I travel for work and am currently on the west coast, I didn’t even factor in the time difference.

Y: Don’t apologize! I’m the one who is awake at this ungodly hour. I should probably head to sleep though.

A: Yes, get some rest. Could I message you tomorrow and try this again?

Y: Absolutely, I’m looking forward to it! Goodnight Aaron!

A: Goodnight.

You woke up feeling pretty good, it was nice to not have to wake up at 6:00 am every morning. Once of the perks of being a teacher was the breaks. You were, however, thankful to be at a school that allowed a twelve-month contract which meant your paychecks continued through the summer. You had also made some extra cash by creating and selling assignments through teachers-pay-teachers (TPT) and by holding virtual tutoring sessions for students who were struggling.

Today you were just planning to create a few different anchor charts to upload for sale on your TPT account. You had just finished designing one for homophones vs. homographs and were ready to upload it when your phone buzzed. When you noticed the notification, you couldn’t help but smile.

A: Good morning

Y: Good morning! How are you?

A: I’m well, glad to be going home. How are you?

Y: Right, you had said you were on the west coast, is that for work?

Y: And I am good, thank you.

A: Yes, I unfortunately have to travel a lot for work. Your bio says you’re a teacher, that’s really incredible, how long have you been teaching?

Y: Travelling for work must take the excitement out of the actual travel.

Y: And thank you! I have been teaching for 5 years now! I love it so much; the kids make all the paperwork and administrative stuff worth it!

A: It is so great that you have that passion. It seems that it’s becoming increasingly rare.

Y: What about you? I see you’re a federal agent, is that right?

A: Yeah, I am. It’s not as glamorous as it may sound.

Y: I would think it’s busy, and hard work. Especially with you travelling while having kids at home.

A: It is, it’s nice to talk to someone who understands that. I just have one kid, a son, he’s almost 8.

Y: That is a good age!

A: It really is, he’s coming into his own.

A: I just saw the time; I have a plane to go catch. Can we talk again soon?

Y: I would really like that. Have a safe flight Aaron.

**One Month later**

The two of you had talked nearly every day for the past month. He was everything you could’ve hoped for; kind, funny, charming, he asked you about yourself and your job. You were really enjoying talking to him and he must’ve shared those feelings because he had recently asked you to switch over from Tinder to texting.

Aaron and you hadn’t had the chance to meet in person yet, but you texted frequently. In the time you’ve been talking, he’d been out of town a total of three times. The first was when you’d matched, he was somewhere on the west coast then. He was back for two days from that trip before he left again, that time was a short stint in the Midwest. And the most recent time, which he was just getting back from was a whole week, somewhere nearby, you knew based on the fact that you remained in the same time zone.

Getting to know each other had been going well, you two asked one another deep questions instead of surface level stuff. You’d talked about your dreams and how you hoped to continue teaching for a few more years before moving up into the administration side of things, and Aaron had shared that he used to be a prosecutor and while he couldn’t share much about his current job, he shared what he might do when he was done at the FBI. He informed you that you had inspired him and that he’d been considering teaching classes at the local university.

Connecting with him was easy, so easy in fact that you’d both admitted to having deleted your dating apps. You had told Aaron that you really wanted to meet him, and he had agreed with you, and so you had set up a tentative date for the following Friday, provided work doesn’t call him away.

Naturally, work did call him away. He’d texted you as soon as he found out. Short but sweet.

Aaron: Hey, I am so sorry, but we got a case. We’re headed to the tarmac now. Raincheck?

You: Oh, no worries! I understand, have a safe flight. Will you let me know when you land?

Aaron: Of course, I’ll talk to you later sweetheart.

You couldn’t help but blush at the name. Aaron and you hadn’t used pet names or even discussed it…hell, you hadn’t really discussed anything about what you were or where you were headed. You had figured that you would have that discussion over dinner, only now that wasn’t happening.

In all honesty you were starting to lose your resolve. Since you had started talking to Aaron, you hadn’t talked to any other men, which meant you hadn’t been intimate with any other men. You were starting to feel pretty restless. You’d thought about texting him, but again, you had no idea what this thing you were doing was. You had tried to push the feeling aside, keeping yourself busy by watching TV and cutting out materials for your classroom.

It was nearly 10 pm when your phone lit up. You looked down to see Aaron’s contact light up your screen, a smile taking form on your lips.

Aaron: Hey sweetheart, how was your day?

You: Hey! It was productive, I got a lot of prep work done for my class. How was your day?

Aaron: It was long, and brutal. I would much rather be there with you.

This was it; he was opening the door; you would just have to see how far he wanted this to go…would he invite you in given the chance?

You: I’d love it if you were here. I’m just lying in bed.

Aaron: You are?

You: Yeah, just here in bed. Thinking about you.

Aaron: I’ve been thinking about you too.

You: Yeah? How so?

Aaron: Sweetheart, I don’t want you to think that this is just some ploy. I like you; I really do, and I want to meet you in person.

You: I like you too Aaron and I know you wouldn’t do that. I’d also really love for you to continue…I really need to know what you’ve been thinking about.

Aaron: God sweetheart. I’ve been thinking about all the things I’d like to do with you.

Aaron: I’d love to start by grabbing your face and kissing those beautiful lips.

You feel a shiver run down your spine as you read Aaron's text. Your heart begins to race, anticipation bubbling up inside you. The words on the screen ignite a flame of desire deep within your core, making it impossible to resist the growing heat between your legs.

You: Mmm, that sounds amazing. I can almost feel your lips on mine already.

Aaron: I want to taste every inch of you. Starting with your mouth, then trailing my kisses down your neck.

The mere thought of Aaron's lips exploring your body sends a surge of wetness between your thighs. You imagine him leaving gentle, lingering kisses along the curve of your neck, nipping at the sensitive skin just below your earlobe.

You: Yes, please. I want to feel your lips everywhere.

Aaron: I'd slowly remove your shirt, teasingly revealing the soft skin underneath until it’s off completely, exposing your beautiful breasts.

You can't help but squirm in bed, the tingling warmth between your legs intensifying with every word. The anticipation builds as you imagine Aaron's hands brushing against your skin, his fingers tracing delicate patterns along the curve of your breasts.

You: Oh God, that sounds incredible. I can’t wait to feel your touch, Aaron.

Aaron: And I can’t wait to give it to you, my sweet girl. I'd worship every inch of your body, my hands guiding my lips and tongue to explore you.

Your breath catches in your throat as the images flood your mind, each one more tantalizing than the last. You can almost feel the soft brush of his lips against your collarbone, the way his tongue would flick against your sensitive flesh.

You: Please, Aaron. I need you now. I can't wait any longer.

Aaron: Patience, sweetheart. We'll meet soon, and when we do, I promise to fulfill your every desire.

As you read Aaron's response, a mix of relief and disappointment washes over you. You understand the need for caution, but the ache within you grows stronger with each passing minute. The desire to feel Aaron's touch, to have him consume you completely, becomes almost unbearable.

You: Okay, Aaron. I trust you.

Aaron: Good girl. Now, close your eyes and imagine my hands tracing circles on your thighs. Slowly inching higher, closer to where you crave me the most.

You follow his command, closing your eyes and allowing your mind to paint vivid images of his touch. The sensation of his warm hands on your thighs sends shivers down your spine as you imagine his fingers inching closer to your pulsating core.

You: Oh yes, Aaron. I can nearly feel your hands on me, the anticipation is almost unbearable. Every nerve ending in my body burns for your touch.

Aaron: That's it, my sweet girl. Imagine my fingers brushing against your wetness, teasingly circling your throbbing clit, driving you to the edge.

Your breath hitches in your throat. The images in your mind become more vivid, your body responding to the phantom touch that you crave with every fiber of your being.

You: Yes, Aaron. I can feel it. My body is on fire for you.

Aaron: I can practically see the uncontrollable desire in your eyes, sweet girl. I bet you look so pretty when you cum.

Your heart races with a mixture of excitement and frustration. The words exchanged between you and Aaron ignite a passionate flame within you, but the distance between you only fuels the longing for his touch. For now, you must find solace in the words that pass between you, allowing your imaginations to create a world where your desires can run wild.

You: I can't wait for the moment when this all becomes reality.

Aaron: It will be worth the wait, my sweet girl. Until then, tell me what you’ve been thinking about. Tell me what you want me to do to you.

You close your eyes, mind racing with a whirlwind of untamed thoughts and secret desires. With each passing moment, the explicit nature of your conversation with Aaron intensifies, leaving you breathless and yearning for more. The electrifying tension between you grows with every tantalizing word exchanged, pushing the boundaries of your imagination further than ever before. You find yourself under Aaron's spell, eager to confess the deepest, darkest corners of your desires.

You: Aaron, I want you to take control. I want to be at your mercy, to feel the weight of your dominance. Do with me as you please.

Aaron: My sweet girl, I will claim you as mine, marking every inch of your body with my touch.

Your body trembles in anticipation of your approaching orgasm. Every nerve ending tingles and pulses, craving the touch of Aaron's hands, his lips, his body against yours. The air is thick with desire as you imagine surrendering yourself to him completely. You slide two fingers into your pulsing heat, slowly thrusting them in and out, imagining Aaron was the one providing you such pleasure.

Aaron: Give yourself over to me. Let go sweetheart. I want to push you to your limits and then pull you back.

Your fingers move faster, matching the rhythm of your racing heart. The room seems to spin as you find yourself on the precipice of ecstasy. One final thrust of your fingers and you are sent hurtling over the edge, your body convulsing with waves of pleasure that crash over you like a tsunami.

As you ride the aftershocks of your orgasm, your breathing begins to steady, and the reality of the moment settles in.

You: Aaron...that was...beyond anything I could have imagined.

Aaron: This is only the beginning. There is so much more for us to explore when we are finally together.

You were growing more confident in whatever this was with him, but you were also becoming more and more frustrated at the fact that you had still yet to meet up with him. You had facetimed many times at this point. Calling one another regularly, to say good morning, to let you know he had landed safely, to tell him all about your day, and even to get one another off at the end of a long hard week.

He was extremely apologetic, given that his chaotic schedule was to blame for you having yet to meet in person. He had even gone as far as to let you know each day they didn’t have a case to see if you were free, but unfortunately as the new school year was approaching, you had become increasingly busier. You had been attending trainings for curriculum as well as the new program the school would be using to take attendance. You had also been going in to start setting up your classroom for a few hours each day.

When you weren’t at the school working on those things, you were at home writing lesson plans, making assignments, and getting your google classroom setup online. You had felt horrible that you had to decline dates, especially given that he finally had time for them, but Aaron was so sweet, assuring you that it was okay. You told him that once the school year started things would be easier since there wouldn’t be so much to prep anymore and once again Aaron let you know that he understood.

Time had flown by; Aaron and you had been talking and doing whatever this was for nearly two months. Many things had been exchanged between the two of you, promises of exclusivity (without labels for now), explicit messages, talks of the future, nude photos, hopes and dreams, amongst many other things. Since that night, you and Aaron had shared many explicit conversations that had ultimately led to some of the best orgasms you’d ever given yourself. You we genuinely surprised at how quickly you had felt comfortable with a man you’ve never actually met, but him facetiming you regularly helped, you supposed. It was scary to think you could be falling for this man so early on.

Shaking the thought out of your mind you checked your phone, only to see a missed call from Aaron, as well as a voicemail. It made you smile to yourself, nobody you knew left voicemails anymore, they always followed a missed call with a text.

VM <Aaron>: Hey sweetheart, you must be busy, but I wanted to see if you were free this Saturday. I know you have some stuff going on at the school this week, but I thought since you are off, and I just found out it is a mandatory off day for the team, it might be a good time for us to finally go out.

Aaron’s voicemail made you giddy, because him having a mandatory day off on the weekend was rare (as he previously informed you). They tend to fall in the middle of the week between cases to allow the agents a break. But a Saturday! One of your days off – this meant you could finally go on your date! You quickly clicked your phone app, scrolled to his contact, and hit the call button.

“Hotchner.” Aaron said.

“Hey baby!” You greeted.

“Oh, hi sweetheart! I take it you got my voicemail?”

“I did, and I am totally free on Saturday! Were you thinking dinner?”

“Well Jack is with his grandpa on Saturday, so I thought maybe we could spend the whole day together? I have a feeling once I see you, I’m not going to want to let you out of my sight for a bit.” Aaron explained.

“First of all, same! Second of all, I would love to spend the day with you, maybe we could go to the farmer’s market in the morning? I could get some stuff to make us dinner. What do you think?” You questioned.

“Perfect! Alright, well it is getting late, and I know you have a busy day at the school tomorrow, so I am going to let you go. Have a good night sweet girl.”

“Tomorrow won’t be as bad as Thursday, but you are right it is getting late. Goodnight handsome! Text me when you get up?” You asked, hopeful.

“You are going to do great on Thursday, the parents are going to love you. And I will text you first thing!”

With that, you hung up. Aaron was sweet trying to ease your mind of your anxieties. You knew realistically that your meet the teacher night on Thursday would be fine and that there really was no reason to fret, but alas, here you are letting it eat you up.

The next three days passed in a blur, Aaron had been consulting on a case from the Quantico office, something about it not being enough information to warrant travel. You had been finishing up all your last-minute decorations and lesson prep. You also needed to make your slideshow that you would review during meet the teacher.

It had been chaotic, but you managed to get everything completed on time and Aaron had actually helped that precinct close their case. It had been a successful week, and now you on top of your back-to-school jitters, you also had nerves from your pending date. You told yourself to focus on one thing at a time, it would be easier that way.

Which leads you to right now…

Meet the teacher night was the most nerve-wracking and exciting night of the year, you wanted to make a good impression for all the parents, but you also needed to show the kids that you were a safe adult that they could trust who has curated an inviting and cozy space for them to express themselves and engage in learning.

You had spent the last week getting your classroom perfectly decorated and organized for this moment, and here it was finally happening. You waited, anxiously fidgeting with your sleeves as families made their way into your classroom, greeting them all as they entered. A parent had pulled you aside to talk about their child’s multitude of allergies when another family had walked in, presumably the last one if you had your count right. You excused yourself and made your way over to the father of this student and stopped dead in your tracks. You’d recognize him anywhere, you had memorized his face, arms, hands, broad shoulders and here he was in front of you now.

“Hi” it came out as a breath; you were stunned that he was here now.

“Hi, I had no idea you were Jack’s teacher. The email I got must’ve been your last name…” Aaron tried to explain.

“No, don’t worry about it, we hadn’t exchanged full names. I um maybe we should talk about this after.” You’d just remembered that you were in a room full of parents and your soon-to-be students.

“Right, that’s a good idea.” Aaron said as he made his way over to Jack and some woman.

Your stomach dropped as Aaron greeted the woman, clearly someone he was very familiar with. Had this all been a lie, the last two months. You zoned out, completely disassociated as you gave your presentation, welcoming the families, going over pickup/drop-off procedures, discussing how you would communicate with parents and going over the scope and sequence of the curriculum for this year.

As you spoke, you found your eyes drifting back to him. Your stomach dropping every time he meets your gaze. How dare he. How dare he smile at you like nothing is wrong, like he isn’t here with some other woman.

You made it halfway through the powerpoint which was a chance for parents to ask any questions that they had thus far. A few parents had asked about the school lunch program and what after-school activities they could anticipate throughout the year. Another parent asked about one of the board adopted reading curriculums and how it would be implemented – all tame so far. Then his hand went up. You steeled yourself before gesturing to him.

“Mr. Hotchner” You signaled him to ask his question.

“Yes, I wanted to know more about the art program here. Which classes are provided as the kids’ specials?”

“That’s a great question, our school has received a grant from the state for our arts program, it is one of the best in the U.S.. The students will participate in multiple specials throughout the week such as Art, Physical Education, Chorus, Computers, Robotics, Gardening, Band, and Dance. They will have two specials classes on every day of the week, save for Wednesdays, since those are half days.” You explained.

“Wow, that’s amazing, thank you!” Aaron smiled at you again.

You were proud of the fact that your school had the ability to have such a wide variety of electives to offer your students. Your heart swells when talking about it, knowing that you worked tirelessly to help lock in that grant for your school. Aaron’s smiley response, however, makes your stomach churn.

You continued throughout the last few slides, closed out your presentation and said your goodbyes, answering the few remaining questions while picking up stray crayons and cups scattered around the room. As you threw the last few cups in the trash you turned to see Aaron lingering in the back of the room alone.

There was a nagging feeling eating away at you. He surely didn’t have the audacity to come here with another woman. Not when you had spent the last two months sharing the most intimate parts of yourselves with one another. Granted he didn’t know it would be you, so maybe that was why he was here with her. All you wanted to do was grab your bag and get the hell out of here.

“Sweetheart, I’m sorry. I didn’t expect to see you here tonight.” He started.

“Sooo, should we just ignore the fact that I’ve seen you naked? Just pretend like the last two months never happened. I don’t want to put Jack in an awkward position. And I certainly don’t want to come between you and your girlfriend.” You huffed.

“Woah, sweetheart, hold on. What are you talking about? As far as I am concerned the only person who I would call my girlfriend here is you, but obviously we haven’t discussed that and seeing as we are only just meeting now, I figured we’d go on our date before labeling anything. I don’t want to forget about any of this, I want to keep this going, see where it leads.” Aaron reached for your hand gently.

“Aaron, if you are seeing that woman you came here with then this has to end. I’m not looking to be a third, or to be your mistress. You can’t do that to her. You can’t do that to Jack!” You shook your head and pulled your hand away from his.

“Oh my god. No, that’s Jess, Jack’s aunt. I thought I told you about her. It’s Jack’s mom’s sister. The only person I want to see is you baby.” He reaches for you again.

This time you let him pull you into his embrace. You shake your head, feeling like an idiot for even thinking Aaron was capable of something so awful.

“I’m so stupid. Aaron I am so sorry!”

“Sweetheart it is okay! I can’t even imagine how it must’ve looked.” He pressed his lips to the top of your head.

“I can’t believe you are actually here right now.” You whispered, pressing your face further into his chest.

Aaron squeezed you tighter, rubbing his hands up and down the expanse of your back. You took a deep breath in, savoring the smell of his cologne.

“You know, I could have Jess take Jack home, and maybe we could go grab a bite to eat?” Aaron suggested.

“Really?” You looked to him for confirmation.

Aaron replied with a subtle “mhmm” to which you nodded. He quickly pulled his phone from his pocket and shot a quick text to Jess. He was sure to give her a brief explanation of the situation, this of course caused her to agree to take Jack for the night.

You should have known you wouldn’t even make it to dinner. Aaron had suggested going back to his place since it would be empty and ordering in. How could you say no, it was a brilliant idea.

The two of you barely made it through the door before your lips met in a fiery kiss, tugging at one another’s clothes. Aaron had picked you up, wrapping your legs around his hips as he carried you the rest of the way to the bedroom.

He gently laid you on the bed, holding his weight up by his elbows on either side of your head. He leans in to kiss you once more before pulling away entirely.

“Sweetheart, I want to make sure you really want this. I can wait and I don’t want you to think this is all I want because trust me I want you. All of you.” Aaron expressed.

“Aaron I want this, all of this with you.” You gently brushed your finger against his jaw.

With that, Aaron dove back in and kissed you with fervor. His hands gripping your plush thighs sliding up to your hips. Your hands reaching to unbutton his dress shirt, unsuccessfully so. Aaron’s hands come up to meet your own, he moves to remove his own shirt which allows you just enough space to remove your own. Garments are strewn about the room as Aaron leans down attaching his lips to the top of your breasts. His hands come up to grope them, your body arching into his touch. He tugs the lace down, exposing your nipple, it immediately perks to the cold air, and he attaches his mouth to it. You can’t help the gasp that releases from your throat. You card your fingers through his hair raking your nails against his scalp.

Aaron presses his hips to yours, allowing you to feel his growing length against your inner thigh. Heat courses through your body as your heart races. He undresses you with a slow, deliberate intent, unhooking your bra and allowing your breasts to bounce free. The vulnerability of it all makes you feel alive, desired, cherished.

Your hands explore his body, his muscles hard and defined under your touch. You run your fingers across the faint lines of scars, evidence of his journey, the stories he's lived. You gently trace them, feeling his rough skin, the warmth emanating from him. You feel like you know him, like you've been waiting for this moment your entire life.

He stands, his eyes locked with yours. He reaches down, unbuckling his jeans and sliding them down his legs. Your eyes follow the movement, taking in every inch of his body, he is standing before you, naked and exposed. You feel a wave of desire wash over you, a fiery need to be closer to him. Your hands reach for him, your fingers brushing against the curve of his hips, the muscles in his thighs, the hard line of his abdomen. You run your fingertips along the slight indent of his navel, and he lets out a low groan.

Your body is alive with desire, every breath you take sharper, every touch more electric. You know this moment will be etched in your memory forever, the beginning of something beautiful. And as you take his hand, pulling him back to the bed, you know that this is where your story will unfold, a story of passion, love, and a bond that will last a lifetime.

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mapis-putellas · 1 year ago

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Accidents happen

Pairings: Natasha x you

Words: 1891

Warnings: bed wetting? Idk.

Summary: Natasha has an accident due to how sick she is. It’s up to you to convince her there is absolutely nothing to be ashamed of. (Requested)

Notes: This is bordering on age regression. I don’t know if this topic is controversial, but if it is and you’re offended, please don’t read. It’s absolutely nothing detailed. Just fluff. Thank you.

You let out a soft exhale through your nose as you tenderly trail the pad of your thumb over the warm, soft skin of Natasha's cheek. The red head was laying on her side, fast asleep as hoarse, crackly breaths escape her chapped lips. She'd been sick for three days now, and it appeared as though she was no closer to getting better despite the amount of medicine she'd been taking.

It was way past the generic cold now. You knew that. Sure it had started that way. A light fever. A runny nose and cough. Nothing Natasha hadn't dealt with before and you knew for a fact had you not caught her mid sneezing fit just yesterday, she probably wouldn't have even told you she was feeling under the weather and would have toughed it out until she was better.

But that wasn't the case now.

Said cold had transpired into what you could only guess was one of the worst cases if the flu you'd ever seen. She was seriously congested. She had a pretty severe migraine and even her stomach had joined in on the fun leaving her unable to eat anything.

A particularly hoarse breath from Natasha brings you out of your thoughts, and you flicker your eyes up to see her face scrunched up in discomfort. You frown slightly as you lean forward to press a soft kiss to her forehead, your hands lingering on her face for a moment longer before you decided it was best to try another tactic.

"Shhh, you're okay," you attempt to sooth as you slip your arm beneath her side and gently coax her tired body into your arms.

She was remarkably easy to direct, settling against your chest with a wet cough as her hands reach up to cling to your hoodie. She seems to instinctively wipe her dripping nose onto the material too, and though you roll your eyes fondly, you knew a tissue would be much better suited for what she was trying to do.

Reaching back, you grab a few tissues from the box on your nightstand and make quick but gentle work of ridding the snot from her nose and cupids bow.

The feeling of the rough tissue against her sore, red tinged nose has Natasha's once again rousing, a pain filled whimper escaping her lips as she hides her face against your chest in a futile attempt at getting away from whatever was hurting her.

Not wanting to further her discomfort in any way, you abandon the task just half way through and toss the now soiled tissue into the trashcan.

With a soft sigh and a gentle kiss against her hairline, you slip a hand beneath her pyjama shirt and begin trailing your fingers over the too warm skin. "All done baby, you're okay." You murmur, giving the thigh that had come to rest across your stomach a soft, comforting squeeze.

In response, Natasha’s sleeping self lets out a hoarse, heavy sigh, her grasp loosening on your shirt as she once again slips into fitful sleep. With the knowledge you would be her pillow until another sneeze or cough inevitably woke her, you grab your phone from the nightstand and decide to kill some time scrolling through social media.

Your free hand continues to absentmindedly trace over her back, up to the nape of her neck and down to just above her underwear. Natasha seems to all hit melt into you, and you all but welcome her as close as she could possibly get. Before long, she was more or less on top of you, head tucked into the crook of your neck with her legs sprawled over your own.

You can’t help but pout softly at the action, pressing your lips in a tender kiss against the top of her head.

Soon, the sun outside disappears behind the clouds signalling that it was getting late. With the knowledge that it would soon be time for Natasha’s to take some more medicine, you place your phone down and slip both hands beneath her shirt. You graze the pads if your thumbs over her sides, craning your head and pressing your lips her forehead.

“Nat? It’s time to wake up baby.” You murmur, lightly tapping the small of her back. Natasha remains still, her breath heavy against the skin of your neck.

You smile softly and reach down to give her behind a few firm pats, “Pumpkin? Wakey wakey.” You coo, affectionately grazing the tips of your fingers over the top of her underwear before bringing your hand back up to meet the other that was still resting on the middle of her back.

Natasha does no more than let out a soft whimper.

Your heart breaks at the sound, but before you could even continue trying to wake her, a sudden wetness begins seeping into the material of your pyjama bottoms. A frown of confusion slips onto your lips at the sensation, and you lift the covers slightly to see that a sudden wet spot had appeared on both your shirt and pants.

You couldn’t see the front of Natasha’s body, but you had a funny feeling that if you could, the same sight would greet you there too.

She’d had an accident.

“Oh baby…” you trail off sympathetically as you let go of the blankets, allowing them to conceal you both again as you hug her body close to you and let out a soft sigh. You didn’t know what to do.

If you woke her, you had no idea just how she’d react. This had never happened before. Why would it? Natasha was a grown woman. But she’d never been this sick before either. Could that be the reason? Could someone be so sick they could have an accident without even realising it?

Knowing you had to wake her either way, you let out a deep sigh and prepare yourself to do just that.

Keeping your hold around her tight, you adjust her legs to settle either side of your hips and sit yourself up. She was straddling you now, but you didn’t think she was completely asleep. Her hands were gripping the back of your shirt, and you could feel her eyelashes fluttering against your neck.

“Nat?” You ask tentatively, bringing a hand down to rest on the small of her back. The red head lets out a heavy sigh as she forces her eyes open, and as soon as she realises her current predicament, she freezes in your arms.

“It’s okay,” you were quick to sooth, tightening your hold around her so she didn’t bolt. “It was just an accident. Everyone has them. It’s nothing to be ashamed about I promise.”

Natasha’s shoulders begin to shake, and you feel her let out a choked sob. Despite the tears, you were thankful because you’d rather this than her bolting and shutting you out.

You nuzzle your nose into her neck and press a soft kiss to the warm skin as your hands once again slip beneath her shirt, hoping the skin on skin contact would help sooth her.

“You’re sick baby,” you murmur into her ear, “It’s not your fault. I’m not mad. Or upset. It was just an accident. They happen to everyone. You’re okay.”

Natasha sniffles as her body shudders with the force of her sobs, and you pull her just that bit closer, your own eyes burning with tears. “It’s okay. You’re okay. I’ve got you.”

It takes a little while, but soon, her sobs turn into soft sniffles, and you give her one last squeeze before placing a hand on either of her sides before attempting to ease her away from you. Natasha resists as she coughs wetly, and you quietly shush her as you pull her body back to your own.

She wasn’t ready to face you yet, and that was okay.

“Take all the time you need.” Was all you say as you secure your arms back around her waist, attempting to ignore the once warm wetness that had long gone cold against you.

You begin to hum softly as you rock her body back and forth in your arms, the corners of your lips quirking up into a smile when feel her begin to relax against you.

After a few moments, you once again attempt to ease her away from you, and this time, she allows it. Her cheeks, you notice, were red with both her fever and embarrassment, and she was seemingly unable to meet your eyes. You reach up to cup her face and place a gentle kiss to her nose.

“It’s okay pumpkin,” you murmur, smiling slightly when her hands come up to rest over your own. They were trembling slightly, and you adjust your thumbs so you could trial the pad of then over the backs of her hands.

“We don’t have to talk about it if that makes you uncomfortable. Let’s just get you cleaned up, okay?”

Natasha nods as a single tear track slips down her cheek, and you tenderly wipe it away before coaxing her chest back against own. She complies without hesitation, and you secure your other arm around the small of her back before rising to your feet and carrying her into the bathroom.

Despite the fact that slipping a hand beneath her behind would make it easier to hold her up, you refrain from doing so in fear it would only embarrass her further. Instead, you hold her as close as you possibly could to you in hopes that would be enough.

You reach behind the glass shower door to turn on the water before lightly squeezing her thigh as a silent request for her to let you go. She does, but she was still seemingly unable to meet your eyes.

With the knowledge that she may need some time to get over this, you allow her to do whatever she needed to be comfortable.

“Can I help you?” You question as you reach up to gently brush a sweaty strand of hair away from her face, tucking it behind her ear.

“Yes please.” She pleads, her voice raspy. You press your lips against her forehead in a soft kiss before placing your hands on the bottom of her shirt and tugging it up and off of her body. Left in just her wet underwear, her cheeks flush red again, and you bend down and hook your fingers into the top before pulling them down.

She steps out of them with a trembling hand on your shoulder for balance, and you press an affectionate kiss to her hipbone before returning upright and making quick work of removing your own clothes.

Figuring that the water was now hot enough, you slip an arm around her waist to guide her in, yourself following shortly.

“There we go,” you murmur as she all but falls into your arms, arms tight around your waist and head against your chest tucked perfectly beneath your chin. You return the embrace without hesitation, cupping the back of her head and rocking her slightly back and forth.

“There we go.”

I hope you all enjoyed ♥️

#natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff #black widow #natasha x y/n #marvel #sick!natasha romanoff x reader #sickfic #fluff #accidents #soft natasha romanoff

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mangobug · 1 year ago

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Alenoah is so goddamn appealing to me for the same reason i like aleheather: they're both enemies/rivals with a tension. However, what makes alenoah so much more interesting to me is the fact that Noah just would not visibly care about, or outwardly acknowledge, Alejandro's advancements. When Alejandro flirts with the other contestants, he easily throws them off or (in Heather's case) pisses them off, turning them into putty in his two hands. When he attempts to throw Noah off, though, it doesn't (visibly) have an effect on him, and it bothers Alejandro because Alejandro always has the upper-hand, around both women and men. It makes Alejandro feel almost humiliated when Noah brushes him off or shoots back sarcastic comments in response to his flirting. Noah barely even bats an eye. But Alejandro can't bring himself to stop when he finds Noah as a person so interesting. Alejandro loves debating with Noah and adores his snark and intelligence, and this adoration drives him. He makes it a goal of his to somehow really fluster Noah or throw him off his game like he does with the other contestants, which has proven to be quite a difficult task. But Alejandro isn't a quitter.

In reality, Noah enjoys the playful and teasing banter just as much as Alejandro, even if he seems uninterested, because it's entertaining to be debating with someone of similar intelligence. Alejandro's flirting, though, does actually throw him off, just not in the same way it does to other people. Noah is entirely (and rightfully) convinced that Alejandro's flirting with him is just a part of his slimy, slippery, eel-y personality, and a sad attempt to rid of Noah in order to further himself in the competition. And Noah is nothing if not stubborn, so even if he feels his stomach twisting into a knot every time Alejandro compliments his brown eyes or his hooked nose or his impressive intelligence or his interesting personality or even the peaceful, curled position he sleeps in—Noah will always just nod his head and respond with a doubtful "sure" or a sarcastic "thanks, honey."

And if Alejandro were to hear about how Noah views his persistent advances, then he wouldn't deny it, because in the beginning that was about half of the truth. He did want to use this new challenge to knock a few opponents out, and if reaching his goal would not only prove to Alejandro that the cold-presenting bookworm had a heart that could be tamed but would also get him out of the way and push Alejandro one step closer to his imminent victory, then, well, that's a win-win for Alejandro. That isn't all the reason though because, against all of Alejandro's big ego, he does actually quite like Noah. This "like" didn't mean the same in the beginning as it did in the end. Because it didn't start with Alejandro wondering if Noah had had anything to eat that day or if Noah had any pets or what Noah's favorite book was, or even if Alejandro could borrow that book Noah was reading once he was done.

Against all of Alejandro's wishes and expectations, he finds that between the two of them, he is the one who has been getting flustered. And it is downright embarrassing, because Noah doesn't even do anything. Well, except for all of the things he usually does. He makes his sarcastic comments and argues with Alejandro just as he did before, but now the details are so much clearer. It's like every feature of Noah's has been enhanced, including his features that previously Alejandro would have considered flaws. His forehead was rather larger than average, but Alejandro has decided that it fit his face and personality and that it was only natural for a head to be big enough to store all the fascinating knowledge and wit that Noah had proven to have. And that pimple just below his right cheekbone, well, that is just time's beauty mark, a proof of growth and maturity that was one feature of many on his face that showed that he was very alive. He found an adorableness in the way Noah uncurled from his sleep and rubbed his eyes first thing after a long night of rest, and he felt a burning discomfort in the unmistakable image of Noah curling into Owen's nap for a makeshift pillow later that day. Alejandro felt electricity course throw his veins and his hands become shakey and clammy at every short lock between ivy and coffee irises. He felt his heart beat a thousand miles a minute each time he stood next to the other, and he would feel it speed up ten times fast at every sarcastic comment the other would make.

Alejandro found himself staring.

Alejandro finds himself studying his face, gauging his face for reactions whenever he makes a joke, and he finds himself way too excited when Noah cracks a smile at it. One time, Alejandro had made Noah laugh. Belly laugh. Gasping for breath laugh. A laugh so full of joy that Alejandro found himself smiling. Not from the contagiousness of Noah's laugh nor from the humor of the comment he had made about Duncan, which, truth be told, he couldn't recite on the spot even if he needed to because his memory had been wiped and replaced with this. Rather, he was satisfied that of all people, he could make Noah laugh like this (and Owen.. he supposes.) That night held for him some distasteful news, because how could Alejandro be the one melted into somebody else's palms?

Noah had noticed the sudden change in Alejandro's behavior, but it'd be a lie if he said he knew why it happened. And if anyone were to tell him why, he would deny it, because not only was it obviously not true, but he also didn't want it to be. The idea of someone as slimy, slippery, and eel-y as Alejandro even daring to approach him was for one, unfortunate, for two, terrible, and for three, impossible. But he couldn't help but ponder why this change had happened. Just why was Alejandro so... fidgety? He was running his hand through his hair what felt like every five minutes (Noah heard him curse under his breath once in spanish, likely at the realization of the inevitable accumulation of grease by the end of the day due to the excessive hand-to-root action), he kept unbuttoning and buttoning the top button of his shirt (Noah heard him mutter once, "is it too scandalous undone?"), and he wouldn't stop playing with his fingers, cracking and popping them, pulling and intertwining them—not that Noah was always watching his hands or anything, because he wasn't, but it was just such a drastic change to Alejandro's usually confident demeanor that you must be a fool to not notice it.

Alejandro did not notice—how could he be such a fool? Developing a crush on an opponent with a million dollars on the line? Pathetic.

The night following Noah's laughing fit, Alejandro found himself staring at Noah's sleeping form. Alejandro had noticed the way he usually sleeps, which would be creepy if Noah didn't have such a noticeable way of sleeping. He curled up to sleep, upright or on his side, and it was pretty cute. His eyes observed the way Noah was curled up against Owen's side, face resting into the other's fat. Ah, right. Owen. Alejandro felt a scowl creep up on his face when his eyes shifted to the blond's face—only to immediately divert his eyes, because Owen was already looking at him. He heard Owen laugh, which made his embarrassment double—embarrassment? I don't get embarrassed.

"Don't worry, Al." Gross. Al. "Noah doesn't know, so your secret is safe with me."

Alejandro blinked. He looked back at Owen, although reluctantly. "...Secret?"

Owen laughed again, and Alejandro was getting worried that he would wake Noah as he watched the smallest of them bounce against Owen. "You know, Al. Your cute little crush on Noah! He's smart and all, but he kind of sucks with love. You can take as much time as you want before you tell him. But between you and me, I think he likes you, too."

Alejandro's mind blanked. Crush? "Uh. My what."

Owen's face turned confused as well. "Oh... Do you not? Oops. Forget I said that about Noah."

Alejandro wished he could think of a decent response, but, what?

"Uh... No, I wouldn't say you're wrong. I just... didn't know myself."

"You—" Owen laughed again, this time making Noah groan in his sleep.

"Ugh... Owen. Stop, 'm trying to sleep." He said, not even opening his eyes.

"Sorry, buddy." Owen giggled, "Al's just pretty funny."

Alejandro glared at Owen, and the other shrugged.

"Sure." Noah groaned, adjusting his position before quickly falling back to sleep.

"Wow! How could you not know, Al? You're always looking at him and talking to him, 'n stuff. It's like Tyler and I aren't even there! And you're so nervous around him. I didn't know someone as cool and confident as you could get nervous around anyone. It makes me proud to know my little buddy could do that."

Alejandro nodded. "Hmm. You're right... Maybe that is the case."

It was a silent agreement between the two that it was their business and no one else's, an agreement that Alejandro wasn't too confident that Owen wouldn't break, but it was enough. Alejandro couldn't decide what was more shocking, an agreement between him and Owen, or the fact that he actually liked Noah in a more than just curious way. Looking back on what Owen said though, he thinks an Owen and Alejandro alliance is much more surprising.

#started as a simple post #evolved into and infodump and extended fic idea #maybe I'll write this #but in an academic setting rather than canon-divergent #because academic rivals #is my FAV trope ever of all time forever #alenoah #alejandro burromuerto #td noah #td owen #fic ideas #academic rivals #rivals to lovers #idea dump #RAHHHH #alenoah takeover #typos? idk #i didn't proofread

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devildom-moss · 2 years ago

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Calling them “baby girl” in front of others (demon brothers)

(the demon brothers x gn!MC)

(slight NSFW)

Lucifer

Diavolo had invited you, Lucifer, and Simeon to the castle for a drink, opting for a reasonably quiet night in. Unfortunately, Lucifer had been in an unpleasant mood all day after a raucous morning of his brothers’ bickering was made worse when Solomon brought him homemade (Solomon concocted) muffins. Simeon’s Celestial Realm anecdotes were starting to irk him, especially ones that involved him also known as the ones Diavolo kept asking for. Lucifer sat there, staring daggers into an indifferent target, sighing, and pinching the bridge of his nose. You had to do something, so you walked over to him and pet his head comfortingly. He pulled back before leaning into your hand again to let you continue. Barbatos, Diavolo, and Simeon stared at you both – cutting Simeon’s story short.

“Why are you petting me?”

“Because,” you smiled as you caressed down his cheeks, “even though you’re being grumpy right now, you’re still my baby girl, and you deserve to relax.”

Lucifer froze up. Diavolo chuckled and remarked how nice it must be to feel so cared for by you, Simeon politely covered a smile, and Barbatos found himself surprising turned on by your boldness and possibly by the humiliation of Lucifer.

“MC, may I speak to you outside?” Lucifer requested as he stood up stiffly.

The second you were outside, he pulled you into the nearest empty room or hallway and pushed you against a wall. You expected some spark of anger in his eyes, but he was a blushing mess, and his air of pomp had collapsed in on itself. His gaze fell from yours as his hands dropped to the sides of your arms. He squeezed them gently – a gesture asking for permission and a quiet declaration of his desire. If only he could be this cute more often.

Lucifer sent Diavolo a text that something came up and you both had to return home immediately. Diavolo replied: Go easy on, MC. You had such a precious reaction, and I’m sure that’s why they did it. You won’t punish them too harshly, right Lucifer?

Diavolo’s text went unanswered. By the time it was sent, you were home, and Lucifer was face down, ass up in bed.

“You can be rough with me,” he told you. In the darkness of Lucifer’s room, his phone lit up with another text from Diavolo: Right, Lucifer?!

Diavolo realized he may have miscalculated when he secretly spotted you petting Lucifer’s head in the council room the following morning before heading to your next class. Someone at the receiving end of Lucifer’s punishments wouldn’t use that gentleness with him the next day.

Mammon

You were hanging out in the House of Lamentation’s library with Levi, Satan, and Asmo. Technically, you were studying – but studying often requires better retention of knowledge for all participants. Mammon interrupted Asmo’s interruption to your study group in his typical Mammon fashion.

“What’cha doin’ with these guys? If ya wanted to study, you shoulda called The Great Mammon. Plus, hanging out with me would be way more fun.” Mammon grabbed your hand, ignoring the complaints and annoyance from his brothers.

You chuckled. He was so obvious, and it activated your urge to tease him. “Aww, what’s the matter, baby girl? You lonely?”

“Who ya calling a girl? Why would I be lonely without you? Stupid!” Mammon’s eyes were wide, and his face burned with shame. “Never mind.”

He turned around and left the room in a hurry. The remaining three demons erupted in laughter, praising you for finding a way to finally get rid of Mammon for a while. Mammon would have to disappear for a few hours before they would be concerned. You, on the other hand, felt kind of bad for making him run off like that. You didn’t anticipate that he would get that embarrassed. You decided to go after him and apologize, but he was quick to make a getaway (years of practice, probably). By the time you got to his bedroom, you heard a faint moan and your name.

To spare Mammom further embarrassment, you decided to send him a text and tell him that you needed to see him in his room, alone. The sounds coming from the other side of his door stopped. You waited a few more seconds before knocking. Mammon rushed to the door in his boxers, pulling you in. Behind the closed door, you let your eyes wander down his body. Your initial desire to apologize for embarrassing him was left in the hallway. Now, you wanted to tease him more.

“I didn’t realize that affected you so much, baby girl,” you ran your hand down his chest.

“Shaddup. It didn’t,” Mammon looked off to the side, “so just c’mere and help me fix it.”

Leviathan

Levi was crushing you and Diavolo in an online battle. You could hear Levi’s boasting next to you while Diavolo laughed over the headset. You and Diavolo only had a few hits left before you lost. Even if you teamed up, the only way you stood a chance was to play dirty. You placed your hand on Levi’s thigh. He jumped under the sudden touch and let out a yelp. With his attention on you, you told him, “you’re doing such a good job, baby girl.”

It was as if you had threatened him. Leviathan transformed into his demon form. He set his controller down and slithered into his bathtub for comfort, covering his face with his hands and his tail. You noticed that his tail was slowly undulating between his legs, and he let out a pathetic whimper, which you heard echo over the headset.

“Winner!” the game declared. Diavolo had managed to beat you both while you were preoccupied. You congratulated him before quickly informing him that you thought you broke Levi and logging off for the both of you. Diavolo didn’t have a chance to respond.

After setting Levi’s headset to the side, you tried to pry his hands from his face, but he wouldn’t budge. It wasn’t anything that a bit more teasing couldn’t resolve, though. You whispered in his ear, “I was hoping I could get my pretty baby girl to model a skirt for me tonight – if he’s up to it.”

“You want to see me in a skirt!?” He perked up, face tinted bright pink. He had bought a new skirt for a fantasy cosplay recently, but it was too sexual to wear in front of anyone, and he was self-deprecatingly certain you wouldn’t want to see him in it. He was almost sure it would never get any use.

“I want to do a lot more than see you,” you smirked.

“MC, don’t say it like that! You’ll get my hopes up.”

“Good.”

Satan

“Labs are the worst,” Levi complained, “otakus aren’t fit for doing group projects with a bunch of normies.”

“Be grateful that you were paired with Solomon, MC, and me,” Satan reminded him, “you could have gotten stuck with Mammon like Belphegor, Luke, and Beelzebub.”

“Poor Luke,” Solomon chuckled.

“It’s not like we need your help, so you can get out of the way if you’re just going to complain the whole time,” Satan guided Levi a few steps outside of his workspace.

“Sure, shove the gross otaku out of the way.”

“Exactly.” Satan took note of the temperature of the potion, “MC, can you hand me the next two herbs. We’re almost ready for them.”

“You got it, baby girl,” you moved the mortar and pestle from your table to his workstation. Solomon paused his work to stare at you in disbelief. Levi took a cautionary step back.

“Thank you, MC.” Satan spooned the pulverized mix into the potion and stirred it clockwise, causing a hypnotizing swirl of purple and green. “Wonderful. See, that’s how you be useful in a group, Levi.”

“ROFL. MC’s charm attack has no effect. Satan’s counterattack does 1000 damage to Leviathan.” Levi sulked next to Solomon and tried to help him for the rest of the class.

It appeared that Levi was right. Satan hadn’t reacted at all to your teasing. Maybe he was too focused? Then again, even Solomon was surprised. However, as the day progressed, you noticed that Satan was being oddly clingy. He ate lunch with you, insisted upon walking you home, and even asked to hold your hand. Satan continued to stay attached to you – studying with you, cooking dinner with you, and even asking to take a shower together. That night, he secretly stayed in your room so he could sleep with you. If you ask him what had gotten into him, he’ll simply tell you that he felt like being close to you.

Asmodeus

“Asmo,” Simeon walked into Solomon’s room to find the demon draped over your and Solomon’s laps while scrolling on his phone. Simeon reluctantly ignored the intimate scene and continued, “do you think you could take Raphael shopping for quality fabric this weekend? He’s been sewing a lot recently.”

Asmo failed to answer him and continued tapping away at his phone.

“He’s in deep,” Solomon sighed. “You may have to try something tailored to pique his interests. Watch this.”

Solomon set his hand the back of Asmo’s thigh and called out “princess.” Still nothing. You and Simeon chuckled at his failure, especially given his confidence.

“Let me try,” you added. You pet Asmo’s hair gently and called out to him sweetly, “Asmo, baby girl?”

“Yes daddy?” Asmo nuzzled into your hand. No one was in shock, but Simeon regretted walking in there. Solomon was annoyed – although not quite from jealousy.

“Simeon had a question for you, pay attention, please.”

Although Simeon wished he could forget what happened, he went along with it and repeated his question. Asmo smiled at Simeon, “of course, hun! I’d be happy to help that violent old man find fabric.”

“Thank you,” Simeon chuckled, “I’ll relay a version of that to him when he gets home.”

As soon as Simeon left the room, Asmo changed positions so he could straddle your lap. Solomon was grateful to be free of Asmo’s weight on him, but he wasn’t sure how to feel as Asmo wrapped his arms around your neck. “MC, how naughty of you, calling me something like that in front of Simeon. I should punish you with kisses.”

“Solomon called you ‘princess,’” you reminded him.

“Solomon can have kisses too.”

Beelzebub

Beel had begged asked you to bring him snacks at practice. Of course, you agreed because it was for Beel. Avoiding the potential destruction of RAD property that could occur if he got too hungry was a decent incentive, too. You found him among his teammates on the field. He waved you over. For a moment, he was so happy to see you that he forgot you were there to bring him food. He picked you up in his arms and spun you around in a half-circle. A few of his teammates stopped stretching to watch how affectionate he was with you.

“I brought you some food. I also found these bright orange pastries. The color reminded me of your hair, so I grabbed a few of those, too.”

“Thank you, MC,” he grinned and took the bag from your hand. His hunger had started to subside in your presence. “You’re the best. I love you.”

“Beel,” you started. He was so cute that it caught you off guard. “You’re very welcome, baby girl.”

One of Beel’s teammates wanted to laugh when he heard that, but the blush on Beel’s cheeks and the giddy grin shut him up. The other teammates who heard you kept their mouths shut, too, when then they saw how happy you had made Beel. If it had been someone they respected less, they might have teased that person, but no one would dare ridicule him. Besides, if that was something that brought joy to their teammate, they didn’t see any need to be rude.

Beel returned to reality and felt eyes on him. “Do you want to stay for practice?”

“I’m sorry, Beel, I have a lot of work to do, today. Next time, okay?”

“Wait,” he grabbed your hand, shyly playing with your fingers, “can I have a hug before you go? I’m kind of sweaty, though.”

“You can have a hug.” You couldn’t refuse him. He bent forward and engulfed you in his arms. You could feel his breath against your ears.

“Would you call me that again? In private next time.” His voice was velvet-soft and suggestive. You made him feel so small and cared for sometimes, and that drove him wild. You nodded, and he responded with a sultry “good.”

Belphegor

“MC, can you bring me a blanket?” Belphegor asked you from the couch.

“Don’t go askin’ MC to baby you. Get it yourself,” Mammon nagged.

“Yeah, but Belphie is such a cutie,” Asmo added.

“I can get you a blanket,” Beel offered.

“It’s fine. I’ll get you a blanket, Belphie,” you smiled and brought the plush blanket to him. You laid it over him.

“You shouldn’t spoil him too much, MC.” Lucifer walked by the couch to look at his baby brother curled up adorably. You ignored Lucifer and smoothed the blanket down.

“You can do with a bit of spoiling, can’t you, baby girl?” You directed your question to Belphie.

“Damn right,” he mumbled, “now you have to sit right next to me on the couch.”

His brothers failed to find words of protest. Much to all their displeasure – especially Lucifer’s – you took a seat next to Belphegor on the couch. Hidden under the cover of the blanket, he crawled onto your lap and laid his head down on your thigh. The blanket draped over you both. Belphie pretended to nap, patiently waiting for the sound – or rather the silence – indicating that all his brothers had cleared out of the common room. You felt him shift and start to caress you under the blanket. He even made attempts to remove or unzip your pants between leaving nips and kisses over your clothes.

“Belphie, not here. You should stop.”

“Make me,” he chuckled, “if you want me to stop, take me upstairs and punish me.”

Brat. Perhaps you did spoil him too much.

(dateables version) | (side characters version)

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thiccpersonality · 10 months ago

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Damian (Gremlin) Wayne...and his even more gremlin-esque family

A newly introduced Damian sits in Bruce's Bat-chair, observing his new "siblings" with judgmental eyes. His emerald green ones rolling into the back of his head at the ex-carny babying him: "Look you fool, I shall let you know right now that your efforts to entertain me like I'm some child will prove fruitless. Whatever I have done to make you think I'm approachable, forgive me, because I already hate you."

Richard's smile slowly fades and he clears his throat. His medium blue eyes narrowing into a suspicious glare, his lips forming a tight lipped smile: "Right down to business I see? I'll have you know that you may be the baby, but I was Bruce's first one. Whatever title you held before doesn't matter now...in fact, I would suggest you get rid of it before someone helps you get rid of it."

Damian scoffs and picks at his nails, swiveling side to side in HIS father's chair: "Worried about the competition already? As expected from a weak-willed and spineless peasant such as yourself. I suggest whatever title you held before-" his green eyes rake up and down Richard's lithe form like a predator with it's prey-"Which from your disposition I would say you are the favorite-ah! Or I should say EX favorite."

Jason grunts from where he's punching at a dummy: "Look you little shit. All we did was exist-"

Damian: "Then stop."

Jason: *stops punching to glare at the small fry* "Ex-fucking-cuse me? I already un-existed before, I am NOT doing that again. And drop the attitude before I drop kick you back to your mother."

Damian: "How cute. It's like a puppy learning to bark for the first time. I can already tell you are desperate for my father's attention like a dehydrated ma-"

Jason: *cocks his gun and points it at Damian* "Did no one tell you along the way here that I don't mind killing for Bruce? Would've tried to get rid of Bozo the Clown over there if I knew I could get away with it. And then I'd shoot Bruce myself."

Tim looks up from his tablet with a sigh: "Trying to kill another bird I see? I guess I wasn't enough for you?"

Jason: "That was due to my pit induced rage. I had no control over that-" gestures towards Damian-"But this overly confident little bitch is a choice."

Tim raises his hands in defeat: "Just saying that you shouldn't threaten the new one so soon. Plus...I'm the smart one, Bruce needs me more than all of you combined. And I know everyone's weaknesses well, do you really want to test me?"

Damian sighs and finally hops down from the chair: "Childs play. My mother has made sure I knew everything from acrobatics to knowledge of cultures, religions, languages, books and other things you plebeians would surely combust from the brains it takes to memorize such things. She made sure I had it all so I can replace all of you. And father will be mine and mine alone."

Richard plasters a friendly smile back on his face: "Seems like the one spot she missed was etiquette. Don't worry kid, I'll be happy to show you the way things work around here."

Before the argument can get further out of hand, a clearing of the throat stops the four boys. They quickly turn to see Alfred standing at the bottom of the cave steps with a tray full of cookies.

Polished shoes click across the cave floors unhurriedly, the older gentleman quietly serving the boys their cookies and turning to leave. Not before clearing his throat once again and turning to give the four boys stern looks.

Alfred: "All this bickering is pointless. You all are now family and I hope you lot will act like it. Master Bruce is already making arrangements for your schooling young master Damian, and he expects a somewhat peaceful dinner tonight."

The older man can't help the small smirk he gives, one that is confident and self-assured. "Plus, as long as I am here, there is NOT much competition. You may be his first child master Richard, but I am his first partner in anything he's done. I do hope from here on out you ALL will remember your places. Good day."

The four boys frown at the authority radiating from the usually calm butler.

Damian clicks his tongue and slinks into the shadows while silently plotting his new victims demise.

(Hello everyone! I write fics on AO3 by the same name, Thicc_Personality. I'm sorry this is my first post and it's nothing but chaos, threats and crack...they truly (do) care for each other, they just don't know it atm XD. But I am a sucker for gremlin bat family and an oblivious Bruce to the very obvious competition. That or he lets it slide so easily (especially for Damian) cause he thinks his baby son is the cutest thing ever. If anyone manages to see this...well, I hope there was some enjoyment found here xD. Stay safe, happy, healthy and of course lovely as always. 💜)

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thedeadestartist · 2 months ago

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To Kill Magic Itself

Fic inspired by prompt by @obsessionrepression

"Kind of want a fic of Arthur being sent on a quest to kill Magic itself, the god of magic, the most powerful sorcerer to walk the Earth, Emrys, and Merlin is just standing in the background sweating Ok, so maybe Uther hears from some captive druids about Emrys and how he’s magic itself, god of magic, so on so forth. So obviously, to get rid of magic in the world, this Emrys guy has to be killed! So Uther sends Arthur on a quest to get rid of magic once and for all, and of course, Merlin is along for the ride. This could be a pretty cool concept and magic reveal I think. I’m no good at writing though so please someone write this"

5.5k words

You can also read it on ao3 if you prefer, here.

“Please, I don’t have much time before the guards return,” Merlin pleaded.

Yet still, the young man did not move an inch. From behind the iron bars, Merlin could see the boy he firmly grasped to his body.

Uther must have threatened to kill the druid’s son.

“You’re right,” squeaked a small muffled voice.

“Hush now, Arawn,” the father spoke quickly. And then he shifted slightly, turning his hooded face further away from Merlin. “After what I have done, I cannot dare to look upon you, Emrys.”

“Then I won’t ask you to look at me, but please, I need to know.”

“I did what I had to do and-

“And I forgive you! Now, come on, I am begging you. Tell me what it is that Uther knows!”

The man in the cell clasped the boy in his arms ever tighter. Merlin steeled his heart.

“You, Emrys. He knows how to find you. He thinks you are the source of all magic. He thinks that if he kills you, he kills it all.”

“But how will he know how to find me?”

“I gave him an ancient device - the Argannwyf. It traces the strongest magic. I’m sorry, Emrys,” the man started to sob. “He promised to leave me and my family in peace.”

Merlin felt a scream burning in his throat but, instead, bit his tongue. All of this time, despite every close call, he had managed to hide his greatest secret from Arthur. But now, because of someone else…

“It’s okay,” he said in a hushed tone. “I forgive you, so please- when you escape from here, never come back. Live safe and free.”

The druid finally looked up at him, his eyes wet.

“Thank you, Emrys. You are the very best of us all.”

A distant shuffle prompted Merlin to quickly scramble to his feet and hastily turn back to his quarters. As he left, he turned back one last time and saw the druid’s son staring after him. The young child was too far away to hear, but Merlin could tell it was surely some words of desperate gratitude. And pity.

…..

In the Physician’s chambers, Gaius listened to the young warlock's account of the druid’s statement in patient silence. When the young man had finished, he stared solemnly at the boy he had come to love as a son. Then he started,

“Merlin, you have to listen to me very carefully. If what the druid has said is true, you are in the most danger you have ever been in. What he has offered to Uther is incredibly powerful, and will expose you instantly, to Arthur, to everyone.”

The young man’s breath caught in his throat. He was no stranger to the threat of being revealed, but it sent a shock down his spine every time. To lose Arthur, his home with Gauis, the friends he had across Camelot…

He would argue it was a fate worse than death.

“So what do I do then?” he said quickly. “There must be a way out of this, surely, Gaius?”

Gaius’ brows furrowed as he rapidly attempted to recall the vast years of knowledge he had accumulated. There must have been something in all those books he had committed to memory before he was forced to burn them. Some way out of this trap that had been set before them.

“I don’t know,” he said finally. “At least not right now. I’m sure I will think of something by the setting of the sun but until I do… Merlin, prepare yourself for a worst case scenario.”

And once those chilling words, a heavy knock resounded from their door. There was a pause and then a servant boy entered.

“Court Physician, sir? And Merlin too? The King has summoned you both for an important announcement. He demands your presence.”

Gaius nodded quickly, “Thank you, boy. Run along, we’ll be right after you to the Council Chamber.”

The boy nodded and vanished as quickly as he appeared.

Merlin trembled slightly, and asked hurriedly, “Gaius, they haven’t used it already! Surely?!”

“I really doubt that, Merlin,” Gaius answered. “The Argannwyf and other magic tracing devices must be charged by magic first. The druid probably promised to do so upon the day of his release, to ensure Uther keeps his word. Well, at least, we must hope so. Let’s go find out.”

…..

Uther was filled with complete and utter glee. Everyone in the Council Chamber, from anxious Merlin to the servants pouring the wine could taste it in the air. If the situation weren’t so dire for Merlin, perhaps he would feel just as at ease as the rest of the council members. But instead, he felt as if he was being marched towards his death.

The only one, it seemed, who dared to sour the mood, was the beloved prince of camelot.

“My dear council!” Uther exclaimed, a little tipsy from the numerous chalices of wine he had downed. “Our fight will finally have been won!”

Arthur turned sharply at the King’s words and exclaimed, “But, father, are you sure we can even trust them!”

Uther solemnly clasped his hands together before he answered. The question had already circled around his head many times since the druid had spoken. But this opportunity was too good to pass up; a way to rid his kingdom of magic, once and for all? They had to at least try.

“My boy, it would serve you well to remember what our greatest enemy is - what it always has been. We must cleanse our kingdom of magic, no matter the cost. Besides, even if the druid has lied to us and magic in its entirety does not die with that sorcerer, there is one less sorcerer to bring downfall upon Camelot. The most powerful sorcerer on this Earth! That’s worth the quest to kill him, is it not?”

The Prince grimaced and asked another question, “What if it’s a trap? To tempt me away from the castle and launch an attack with some other druids hiding in the shadows!”

Uther laughed heartily.

“Then, Prince Arthur, I would defend my kingdom as I have successfully done for the past 50 years as its King.”

Then he motioned to Gaius, standing beside him.

“And even then, Gaius has assured me that if indeed the druid and his Emrys-seeking device are nothing but a desperate man’s attempt to save himself and his family from the pyre, then he would die according to the rules of his own magic.”

“Unlike other sorcerers, the ways of the Old Magic are absolute,” Gaius ad libbed. “When a druid takes an oath, it must be honoured - or death dealt. There is no trickery when it comes to the oaths of the Old Magic.”

When Uther had revealed that the druid had ‘sworn’ the device would work upon being granted freedom, Gaius had quickly spun a lie that a druid’s word was absolute. For now, it was important that the druid’s sacrifice would not have been one made in vain.

“Well, there you have it, my son. Prepare to ride with your knights in two days time. If the druid is still alive, then he must be telling the truth. And we will never have to live in fear again, once you’ve disposed of this… Emrys. You are dismissed.”

Arthur gritted his teeth and turned on his heel.

“Merlin, escort me to my chambers,” he ordered as he exited the doors of the Council Chamber.

And just before the heavy doors swung closed, Merlin slipped through behind him.

“Are you okay, Arthur?” Merlin asked cautiously, though he couldn’t help but find it incredibly ironic that he was having to ask such a question when he himself was trembling in fear.

Arthur did not answer and continued stomping his way to his personal chambers, throwing open the doors.

“Arthur?” Merlin prodded.

As the door shut itself behind him, Arthur turned to look at his servant.

“Merlin, what I am about to tell you must not leave this room. Do you understand?”

The young man nodded quickly.

His prince sighed.

“Merlin, do you think what my father said is true? That if we kill this one sorcerer, all the magic in the kingdom will be gone also?” He asked earnestly.

“I–”

“And be honest, Merlin. Don't treat this question as if I am a prince. Pretend we're both peasants or something.”

“I don't think you'd be a great peasant Arthur if I'm hone–”

“Merlin! Just answer the question. Please.”

“I don't know, sire.”

“Yeah, I don't either.”

Arthur collapsed into his chair, his hands over his face.

The two men sat in silence for a few moments.

“All my life, my father has sent me on these countless conquests to vanquish magic. Yet magic persists.”

The Prince sat up, folding his arms upon his desk and laying his head upon them. Even though Merlin couldn't see it, he could perfectly picture the tired expression on Arthur's face. Uther was growing old, and Arthur was growing tired of his father refusing to acknowledge so. All of the quests he was sent on, felt like just another excuse to postpone allowing Arthur to ascend to the throne. And it wasn't as if he was desperate for it. He just knew that his father needed to rest and that he, himself, had to learn how to lead and rule.

“Besides, is it really right to go hunting for someone who has not attacked us first?” Arthur pondered aloud. “What if this guy, the most powerful magic sorcerer in the world, has been choosing to be peaceful? What if our attack unleashes a greater threat to Camelot? What then?”

Merlin stood perfectly still. The Prince’s thoughts were words he so desperately craved. If Arthur were in power, would he be a better King than Uther? Surely he would, he did not have Uther's hardened heart. And with the words he spoke just now, there was opportunity for peace with all users of magic. Peace for Merlin. It sounded almost too good to be true.

“Arthur, I–”

But Merlin's words were interrupted by a soft knock at the door.

“Sire, may I request Merlin's presence?” Gaius’ voice spoke through the wood.

Arthur dismissed Merlin with a wave, without even raising his head from the desk.

“Merlin, don't forget we're leaving in two days,” he mumbled as his servant walked away. “Make sure to have everything we need packed by then.”

“Yes, my lord,” Merlin spoke as he softly closed the door behind him.

…..

Back in the Physician’s quarters, Merlin drew in a long deep breath. He had been pacing around the room since Gaius had explained the plan.

“And you’re sure it’ll work?” he repeated for the seventh time. “My life is on the line here, Gaius.”

“I can’t be completely sure until you’ve done the spell and Uther activates the device, but it’s your best chance,” his mentor answered.

“Then what are we waiting for?” Merlin spoke. “Let’s do it, right now.”

“But, Merlin. Be aware that this type of magic is very risky. It is not to be taken lightly,” Gaius warned.

The young man stopped pacing and looked at the old man.

“I know. But like you said, this is my best chance.”

“Then I'll gather the ingredients and prepare the potion, while you check the incantation and process in the book,” Gaius nodded.

In theory, the plan was simple enough. The book provided a guide to a spell on how to split one’s magic. If Merlin could split his magic and the stronger part were placed elsewhere, it would lead them away from the castle. Somewhere far enough for Merlin to either have the device ‘accidentally’ break or find some other way to convince Arthur that killing the strongest sorcerer would not bring down all magic. Either way, he needed to buy enough time for the druid and his son to get out of Camelot.

In reality, both Merlin and Gaius knew it was not so easy. There was no guarantee that it would work at all. And if it did, there were other complications. Magic outside the body must be bound to a complete physical object or it would naturally return to its sorcerer. How would he get the separated part of his magic far enough in time, before they had to leave? What if someone else found the object and took it, or broke it? What if without his full force of magic, Merlin was unable to protect Arthur during a surprise attack on the expedition?

“Merlin,” Gaius spoke softly, shaking the man from his thoughts. “The potion is ready.”

“Let's do this then,” Merlin smiled nervously.

The Physician pulled a locket from his pocket and placed it on the table before the most powerful sorcerer to have ever lived.

“This is a locket that my mother passed on to me before she died. She always said it brought her luck, and I think you need that more than me,” Gaius spoke. “You can bind your magic to this, and bury it as far from as you can before you leave.”

Merlin picked it up and felt the coolness of the metal through his fingertips.

“Thank you, Gaius,” he said.

With a nod, Gaius handed the potion to Merlin, who downed the liquid in one swig. Once the contents had reached his stomach, the sorcerer spoke the incantation and the locket glowed a fiery red. It burned so hot that both men could feel the heat on their faces. It glowed brighter and brighter, blue and then white, and then–

It was over. The locket looked just as it had before. But when Merlin took it in his hands, this time he could feel the fast pulse of magic.

“I think it worked,” he said cautiously.

“Then you must go now. Bury it and be back before you're due to leave, quickly,” Gaius urged.

“Thank you, Gaius,” Merlin said, “Not just for this, but for all you've done for me.”

“You are very welcome, my boy,” Gaius smiled, pushing a bag of food into Merlin's hands and ushering him through the door. “Now go, and be safe.”

…..

“Where is Merlin!” Arthur demanded. “We’re supposed to leave in an hour and he's nowhere to be seen!”

“Maybe he ran off, your majesty,” Gwaine grinned. “We're trying to kill the most powerful sorcerer. He probably just didn't want to run to his death.”

“We're not going to die,” Arthur muttered. “I've fought many sorcerers before and I'm still alive.”

“Yeah, but none of them were the most powerful, were they?”

“Sir Gwaine?”

“Yes, my lord?”

“Shut up.”

“Yes, my lord.”

At the close of that exchange, the door to the Knight’s quarters flung open. And Merlin appeared, doubled over out of breath.

“There you are, Merlin, you useless servant,” Arthur said, anger flooding his voice and drowning the hint of relief in his tone. “Where have you been these past few days! I couldn't find you anywhere!”

“Oh, you can't have been looking for me that hard if you couldn't find me anywhere,” Merlin grinned mischievously, ducking away just in time to avoid a swipe from Arthur. “Besides, I was doing what you told me. Everything's packed, the horses are all ready, we can leave at your word.”

“Oh,” Arthur frowned. “But it surely can't have taken you that long, why weren't you there when I needed you for other things?”

“What other things?” Gwained piped up. He did not avoid the incoming punch to the shoulder from Arthur.

“Nothing. Gather the knights, Gwaine. We leave now,” the Prince declared.

Arthur swiftly left the quarters, Merlin right behind him like a shadow.

“Yes, my lord,” Gwaine shouted after him, rolling his eyes. “Okay, men, let's get ready to ride!”

…..

At the gates of the Castle, Uther held the device high as he spoke to Arthur and his knights as they were due to depart.

“With a drop of the druid’s blood, this device will activate and we will finally be able to defeat magic forever. This is the end of an era, and the rise of a new one. A new era in which no one ever had to live in fear of magic again!”

To the knights, the device looked quite small in Uther’s hands. It was circular, and no bigger than the circumference of a quiver.

Uther handed the device to the druid, who used a sharp rock to slice the tip of his finger. Once a drop of his blood fell upon the device, the shallow carvings upon it lit up and reformed into an arrow, pointing vaguely south.

“As we have agreed,” Uther spoke firmly to the druid, “you are now free. But you are never welcome in Camelot, so leave and never return.”

“Thank you, for your generosity, your highness,” the druid said, his head bowed low to hide his gritted teeth. “I swear, you will never see me or my son again.”

As Uther left to pass the device to his son, the druid hastily sped down the stairs - child in arms - and rushed through the open gates.

As he passed Merlin, he whispered, “May the stars protect you, Emrys.”

Arthur swung himself up onto his horse, device in hand.

“Knights of Camelot, let us depart,” he announced.

The sound of hooves echoed long after the last knight rode through the castle gates.

…..

The journey was surprisingly quite peaceful. The prince and his men diligently followed the arrow upon the device, riding through light-filled forest and the occasional small village. The party of knights had been riding for at least 3 hours in a mixture of silence and slight idle chatter when suddenly there was a heavy thud.

“Merlin!” Lancelot shouted after the young man who had fallen off his horse.

The knights quickly slipped off their own horses, swiftly crowding around their friend. He lay crumpled and still for a beat before he stirred. All the knights breathed a sigh of relief. And though no one would have seen, Arthur’s eyes softened immediately.

“Are you alright, Merlin?” Leon asked as he propped his torso up tenderly.

“I – I’m alright,” he replied, a little unsure of himself.

Gaius has warned him earlier about side-effects to the spell. Magic was thought to often be the source of a sorcerer’s strength, and that seemed to ring true. Ever since he had sealed most of his power away into the locket, he had felt more tired in less time, less aware of his surroundings. Merlin didn’t want to admit it to himself, but the feeling of being so powerless… it filled him with fear.

“He probably just hasn’t had enough to eat or drink,” Elyan suggested, pulling a flask and a roll of bread out from a bag strapped to his horse. “Perhaps we could all take this as an opportunity to rest for a little and refresh?”

Prince Arthur looked carefully at Merlin, catching his servant’s eye for a split second. In the pit of stomach, he felt a sense of unease. He didn’t know why.

“Alright, men,” he agreed. “Take a little time to drink, eat and stretch out your legs. But then we need to be ready to ride again as soon as we can.”

“Yes, my lord,” the knights chimed in unison.

Once Merlin had sipped at some water and finished the bread that Lancelot had handed them, they resumed their quest. Yet again, the journey was peaceful – no bandits, no wild animals, no villain hell bent on derailing them.

“You’d think the most powerful sorcerer in the world would have at least tried to stop us by now,” Gwaine murmured.

“Why not just be thankful instead of opening your mouth?” Percival remarked.

“I’m just saying, if I were an all powerful guy with magic I would set up every trap to exist and –”

Gwaine’s words were cut off by the Prince suddenly pulling his horse to a stop.

“We’re here?” he spoke, confusion filling his tone.

Slipping off his mare, the Prince held the device and turned on his heel. He paced around, his eyes focused on the device. No matter how he orientated himself, his hand or the device, the arrow seemed to be pointing to a non-descript grassy area to the side of the woods.

“But, no one’s here,” Leon commented. “Not even a house or even any trace that a person’s been here!”

“Is the device broken?” Lancelot asked.

“Maybe you’re holding it wrong,” Gwaine grinned.

Merlin knew it was time to enact the plan. He peered over Arthur’s shoulder, as if to confirm what the device was showing them.

“Maybe, it’s supposed to show us where to meet the sorcerer,” he suggested slyly. “Magic works in weird ways, maybe the sorcerer will come to us if we stay here?”

Lancelot thought for a second and then shrugged, “Sounds like a good as lead as any.”

“Then we’ll set up camp here for the night,” Arthur spoke. “Let’s hope for that druid’s sake that you're right, Merlin.”

The next hour was spent under the setting sun, with the men preparing to set up camp – gathering firewood, heading into the woods to hunt for some rabbits, or forming tents from the largest branches they could find. Once all the knights had found something to do, Merlin quietly slipped away. He had to find the locket quickly. He still wasn’t entirely sure what we would do when he had found it.

Perhaps he could cast a simple sleep spell upon Arthur and the knights? Just for a few days until he was sure the druid had fled Camelot. And in that time, he could break the device. Convince the knights that they were tricked by the powerful sorcerer. It wasn’t a great plan, but it was the only plan he had, until he could think of a better one.

“Merlin, what are you doing? I doubt the greatest sorcerer of all time would be buried in the ground.”

Arthur’s voice was full of bemusement. But also a little softer than his usual cutting tone.

“Oh, sorry sire, I was just digging a pit for the fire.”

“You really do only have half a brain, you know that, Merlin? A fire pit doesn’t have to be deep enough to bury a body!”

The prince shook his head and under his breath muttered, “And to think I was worried you’d ended up collapsed somewhere.”

“What did you say, my lord?” Merlin asked, not having catched the last sentence.

“Nothing, Merlin,” the prince spoke. “Just talk to Elyan, he’s got the firewood so you can make actual use of your ‘firepit’.”

“Oh, I will talk to Elyan then,” Merlin said, as Arthur turned and walked towards some of the other knights.

By the time night fell, the knights were eagerly gathered around the fire, fully ablaze, roasting rabbits. They chatted merrily, deep into the dark hours, until most decided to head to sleep. Before long, only a very sleepy Merlin still sat by the glowing embers.

Fighting to keep his eyes open, the young man stumbled as he tried to get back to his feet. This was his best shot, while the knights slept. He needed to find the locket now.

If he concentrated, he could feel the pulse of his magic in the earth. Unfortunately, he couldn’t tell exactly where, but it had to be nearby, right? He tried to follow the sense of magic, but in his fatigue it felt near impossible.

Then, in his head, an idea appeared.

The device! It was a guide directly to his magic, to the locket!

Merlin stumbled over to Arthur’s horse and felt through all the bags for the device, but even after triple checking every one, it was nowhere to be found. It dawned on Merlin, that the prince must have taken the device with him when he retired to sleep.

Of course, it wouldn’t be that easy.

Not to be deterred, Merlin turned and made way towards the prince’s tent. Running on little more than his last energy reserve and sleep-deprived convinced, Merlin descended upon the sleeping Arthur, swiftly feeling through his pockets.

And there it was. The cool of the metal and the slight warmth of magic radiated from the device through to Merlin’s fingertips. He pulled it out slowly, trying not to stir the prince. Luckily, for Merlin, Arthur barely stirred at all.

Desperate to find the locket and reunite with his magic, Merlin shuffled out of the tent and held the device aloft. In his hands, it glowed brilliantly, the carvings dancing across the surface. They formed various animals, from eagles to deer and mice to dogs, before forming a bright arrow.

“Finally!” Merlin breathed, following the arrow to a spot several paces from where the fire had now completely burned out.

On his hands and knees, he tore wildly into the dirt. The pull of his magic was so strong, he couldn’t stop himself now even if he tried. Merlin kept scratching at the dirt until he finally saw the silver of the chain. He yanked the locket out of the ground and clasped it tightly, feeling the pulse of his magic echo through him.

He needed his magic back. It was a deep longing inside of him to be returned whole.

If he hadn’t been so sleep deprived, then his rational brain would have probably stopped him, but at this point it was too late. Without thinking, the sorcerer uttered the incantation to reverse the spell.

For a second, there was a silence.

Then a giant wave of energy crashed outward from the locket, flinging Merlin back, far into the forest and echoing throughout the area with a large boom.

At the sound, the knights scrambled awake from their sleep, swords drawn. It didn’t take them very long to notice that the device had gone missing.

“Spread out, find the device, find the source of the noise, find anything!” Arthur demanded, cursing himself for trusting the druid.

It must have all been a trap. They had been all lured out to a secluded area and were about to be ambushed.

The knights searched around the camp, peering into the woods.

“Why didn’t anyone stay awake as nightwatch?” Leon mouthed, slight anger in his tone.

“Why didn’t you think of that before we went to bed?” Gwaine disputed.

“Why don’t you both shut up and just focus on searching!” Lancelot added.

The knights’ comments soon descended into a full quarrel. With swords drawn, sleep interrupted and anger rising high, they had almost seemed to have forgotten what they were doing. Suddenly, Elyan’s voice cut in:

“Errr, guys? I found the device but – why is it pointing at Merlin?”

Elyan’s question immediately silenced the knights’ argument.

Arthur rushed immediately to Elyan and his eyes settled upon Merlin, who was leaning against a tree, clutching at his side. And then, the prince’s eyes drifted towards the device. It lay upon the grassy ground, but glowed more violently than it had before. And that bright glowing arrow, pointed directly at Merlin.

“Merlin,” Arthur started, slowly. “Why is the device pointing towards you?”

“I don’t know,” said Merlin, breathless from being flung across the air.

Arthur raised his sword towards the young man.

“Explain yourself, now!” he demanded.

“I said, I don’t know!” Merlin insisted, trying to feign ignorance.

But as he spoke, the hand in which he held the locket began to glow with the gold essence of magic. The glow flowed from the dangling locket, up through the chain and through Merlin’s hand and arm towards his heart. It was his magic returning to him. And it was happening right in front of Arthur.

“Merlin!” Arthur roared. “What is the meaning of this?”

Before Merlin could even speak, Arthur had rushed over to him, sword in hand. With nowhere to go, Merlin was pinned against the tree – the tip of Arthur’s sword resting upon his throat.

The knights rushed towards the commotion, but once they had all gathered they felt unable to interfere. Thoughts rushed through their minds, from feelings of confusion to surprise to fear. They didn’t know what to do.

“You have magic?” the prince spat, his voice flooded with anger. “All this time! You had magic!”

The sorcerer felt the last of his magic return to him as the locket turned cold. He couldn’t find the words to tell Arthur the truth, even though he now knew.

“Arthur…” he breathed, trailing off when no words could escape his lips.

Rage burned in the prince’s eyes. Betrayal running hot through his blood. He pushed closer towards Merlin, the sword almost breaking skin. As he drew closer, the locket brushed against Arthur’s leg and he jolted slightly.

“Merlin,” Arthur spoke, calm but stern. “You are the most powerful sorcerer in Camelot? Answer me truthfully.”

“Yes,” Merlin answered meekly, staring directly into Arthur’s eyes. “I am.”

“You have magic?” Arthur asked.

“Yes.”

Arthur stared for a long time in silence at the man at the end of his sword. The servant he had come to know and love. A man he trusted just as much as any of his knights, if not more. A man who had hidden from him something almost unforgivable. Almost.

“Merlin, swear to me that you’ve never used magic to harm Camelot.”

“I swear!”

Prince Arthur lowered his sword and struck his sword into the ground, turning around to look at his knights.

“From now on, anyone who uses magic for the sake of Camelot and not against it, is under my protection,” he cried.

After his declaration, breathing heavily, Arthur turned back towards the camp leaving the knights confused and concerned. Lancelot rushed over to Merlin's side.

“Are you alright, Merlin?” he spoke quickly.

“Yeah, I’m fine, just confused,” he answered, rubbing his neck where the sword had nicked his throat.

“Well, it’s not like he could actually kill you,” Lancelot shrugged. “That man loves you more than any of us.”

“You could kill a puppy in front of him and he’d find an excuse for you,” Gwaine added, pulling Merlin in for a hug. “But how come you never told me, eh? Am I not good enough for the sorcerer supreme?”

“No, I just didn’t th–” Merlin started.

“Shh, I’m only kidding,” Gwaine smiled, ruffling his friend’s hair. “I can’t imagine it's something you could just spit out.”

“So, you’re all fine with me having magic?” Merlin asked nervously.

The rest of the knight shuffled uncomfortably.

“I’ve never known a time in which we haven’t been ordered to destroy magic,” Leon admitted. “But I do know you, Merlin. I know you’re a good and honest man.”

“Yeah, if you were all evil, you would have killed Arthur long ago,” Percival shrugged.

“You’ve saved my life before,” Elyan spoke. “What kind of a knight would I be if I forget that just because you’ve got magic?”

“See,” Lancelot smiled softly. “You are greatly loved. Magic or no magic, it’s all the same. Now, let’s get back home. We’ll figure something out to tell Uther later.”

-----------

As the rest of the knights stood and conversed about their plans to ride back to the castle and convince Uther the plan had failed, Arthur slipped away to take a seat next to his dearest servant.

“Thank you, Arthur,” Merlin spoke softly. “Thank you for trusting in me.”

“Merlin,” Arthur started. “You have been by my side all this time. Even when my father has killed your kind. Even when I had blindly followed his wishes to follow in his footsteps. If, like he said, all magic was evil, then why would you have stayed.”

“Arthur, I–”

“I should be thanking you, Merlin. All this time, you’ve been protecting me, haven’t you?”

“Well, it wasn’t just–”

“You’ve used magic to protect me? And don’t lie to me. I saw it all, when I touched the locket. All the memories of when you had used your magic to save me.”

“...”

“You used magic. For me.”

“Yes.”

“Then how could I ever kill you? How could I ever kill magic?”

“But what about your father?”

“I’ll convince him.”

“But it’ll be hard.”

“I’ll convince him. I have to. If not for you, for every man, woman and child of magic that has been killed because my father was afraid.”

“Arthur, I need you to know; I would never use magic against you, Arthur. Not ever, I swear it.”

“You don’t need to. I believe you.”

Merlin let out a long breath and felt his eyes water.

“Are you crying?” Arthur asked, concerned.

“No, no, I’m just tired,” Merlin spluttered, the last several hours catching up to him. “I just need to sleep.”

The most powerful sorcerer felt his body finally give in to sleep, falling to the left. But before he could hit the ground, Arthur caught him and gently pulled the man’s body towards him, letting Merlin’s head rest on his shoulder.

“Rest now,” he whispered. “The most powerful sorcerer in the world is forever worthy of sleeping on my shoulder.”

#bbc merlin #merlin fanfic #merlin fanfiction #arthur pendragon #merlin

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