#a date with robin buckley
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sofiiel · 1 year ago
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Date: water park with Robin:
She's having a hard time functioning with you in your swimwear. Smelling of gentle sunscreen and flavored chapstick. You often catch her just quietly biting her lip and not so slyly checking you out.
You just blatantly checking her out right back and her tossing you a wink before striking poses for you. Earning herself many heated kisses.
Robin in painstaking reminding you of all safety tips when it comes to water or slippery surfaces. "Those sandals don't have much tread on them, be careful." or she's reminding you to stay hydrated as you walk around under the sun.
She's got her arm over your shoulders while you wander about the park. Giving you cheek loving nuzzles.
🤭 playing chicken/camel fight in the pool! Either you're on her shoulders or she's on yours. It turns into a giant splash war and you two aim to win.
You find a quiet spot near the aquarium to gaze at the marine life. It's quiet and you're cuddled against her. Robin will draw you into a kiss, under the rippling reflection of sunlight through the water.
A curious sea creature swims up and starts trying to get your attention from the other side of the glass. You and robin play with it by turning in circles, which it mimics.
Buying a large shell and listening to the sounds of the ocean together.
At the aquatic petting zoo you two freak out about touching the sea cucumbers.
Playing footsie while cruising down the lazy river. She can't stop giggling. "Do you have to be so cute all the time?" she laughs. "That doesn't mean stop - just so you know."
She makes a small soft groan as you're rubbing more sunscreen onto her back, she's absolutely loving the slight massage and keeps asking for 2 more minutes.
Matching bracelets from the merch shop! But as you're browsing, Robin's wandered off. She returns to you and asks you to close your eyes. You do as she asks, and feel her clasping a necklace around your neck. She leaves a gentle kiss to your collarbone and tells you to open your eyes. A mirror in the shop reveals it's a necklace you'd eyeballed as soon as you walked in the store. But would have felt guilty purchasing for yourself.
On the rushing rapids ride, Robin has you sit on her lap in the small raft. Her arms hold you tight to stop you from falling as you brave the wild ride together. Her laughter echoes in your ears.
Having people take pictures of you two snuggled just in front of the artificial water fall.
Robin calling you her little mermaid, as she rests on the edge of the pool while you swim up to her. Playfully splashing water at her to help keep her cool.
You enjoy a relaxing lunch at the juice bar, you two munch on some refreshing fruit and share a vividly colorful slushie. The waiter brought you two cute heart shaped twisty straws that they had left over from Valentine's Day.
Laying on beach towels on a simulated beach, your curled up neck to Robin as she caresses your hip, and you both are nearly falling asleep after using up so much energy. Robin talks endlessly in hopes of keeping you both awake, but you find she's making everything twice as soothing by doing so.
Near the end of your day together, you two run into a fun couple and hang out with them. They offer to snap a bunch of pictures for you if you do the same for them and you agree. Running about the water park, taking as many as you can manage, with each of your cameras.
After heading home the next day, Robin surprises you with a scrapbook of all the photos and clippings of beachy or sea themed pictures, she spent all night working on. It's scatter with little inner thoughts she had about that date inside.
Little notes such as: "she took my breath away in the shimmer of the water" or "I will remember this for the rest of my life" or "her smile out matched the sun." and "It was so crowded, but all I saw was you."
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lazylittledragon · 7 months ago
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mombin pt 6 and look who showed up
(1)(2)(3)(4) (5)
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sp0o0kylights · 6 months ago
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We often see Robin focused on her own love life (or lack thereof) while Steve collects more You Suck tallies on the board, but imagine Steve does find a girl he dates that he hits it off with?
He aces dates 1 through 5 and suddenly he's around a little less, his new relationship looking serious, and Robin isn't jealous but--
She is worried.
That's her best friend. Her platonic soulmate!
She doesn't think Steve would ever stop being those things--Her dingus has a soft squishy heart under all that hair.
Problem is, Robin's seen this play out before.
Had band friends drift away because someone's dating someone else and suddenly they're all wrapped up in each other's lives, friends pushed to the wayside.
She doesn't say anything though. Knows how lonely Steve is. How much he wants (and deserves) a relationship.
Then the worst possible fucking thing happens: Steve's new girl telling him she isn't comfortable with Robin.
That she doesn't believe girls and guys can be "just friends" and would Steve please stop seeing Robin so much? Please?
Her friends even saw him taking Robin out to lunch yesterday and thought he was cheating!
Of course she knows Steve isn't cheating. He'll prove it to her, right? By letting Robin know they can only be coworkers? And their friendship?
Robin hears all this at her and Steve's next shared work shift, and she feels the floor of her world give out beneath her.
Fear and hurt crawling up her throat because of course Steve can't tell whatever her name is why Robin will never date him.
Of course this chick clearly isn't taking Steve's regular excuses as an answer, and--oh God, what if Robin is losing him, isn't she?
Then Steve's done talking, clearly expecting Robin to say something, and oops she may have been panicking and not listening there at the end but she manages a very choked up;
"I mean if you think shes like, the one..." because what is she supposed to say!?
And Steve, the only person Robin's met who craves a relationship as much as she does if not more, frowns at her with a bitchy little twist to his face and says: "What part of "so I told her that was ridiculous and we broke up" didn't you hear?"
Robin gasps a breath, the world stable once again. She doesn't know when she started crying but she does register Steve's panic when he clocks it, panicking and pulling her into a hug.
"Oh my God did you think I'd agree with her!?" He says and he sounds a little hurt about it, she'll have to fix that, but presently all Robin can do is cling to her best friend and sink deep into the knowledge that he really won't leave her.
Even for the things he wants in life the most.
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bigskyandthecoldgun · 1 year ago
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steddie fake dating au that starts because robin’s mom keeps pushing for her and steve to get together and robin gets so fed up that she yells, “it’s not gonna happen because some people are gay, mom!”
and upon seeing the utter horror and fear on her face, steve swoops in and says he’s the one who’s gay. cue mr. and mrs. buckley, local hippies, attempting to show how supportive they are, and all the while steve gets eddie to agree to fake date to get the buckleys to prove they’re safe, so that robin will feel comfortable enough to come out to her parents.
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morganbritton132 · 8 months ago
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Eddie has been live-streaming for a couple hours now when he leaves his studio to get something to eat. He brings the stream along so everybody gets to witness the conversation he walks into.
Steve: -know why you keep saying that. It was very romantic….platonically romantic.
Robin: Because it wasn’t a date
Steve: Uh, we held hands in the rain?
Robin: We were spying on a shipping delivery
Steve: So? Rain. Hand holding. That is romcom stuff. We spent the night together
Robin: Stuck in an elevator!
Steve: We stayed up all night talking
Robin: About how to get out of the elevator!
Steve: Yeah, like in a romcom.
Robin: Dustin was there!
Steve: Dustin is always there!
Eddie:
Eddie: What are you talking about?
Steve: Robin said I never took her on a date before we got married. We became best friends on a date.
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ineffablejaymee · 9 months ago
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sure steddie dating pre-season 4 is great and all, steve rushing to eddie to check up on him instead of eddie attack him in the werehouse is nice
BUT
steddie hooking up pre season 4, then sorta-almost-dating but they have a big falling out and they dont see eachother until the werehouse IS JUST SO JUICY
even better if they had the argument bcs steve wasnt telling eddie something to protect him from the upside down fuckery. and in the werehouse they lock eyes as eddie realizes what steve has been lying about, and steve (who just realized he was in love with eddie) realizes he failed and eddie is now in the middle of this crazy dangerous shit and he blames himself ofc
and give me robin who knew steve had someone, but he didnt tell her it was eddie. and she connects the dots and looks at steve and they have a little silent conversation bcs holy shit i knew u were a boy kisser but an eddie kisser?!?!
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hairmetal666 · 1 year ago
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The note shows up in Eddie's mailbox cubby on Valentine's Day.
It's nothing fancy, loopy cursive handwriting on lined paper:
"I know this is probably silly but I can't go another day without saying it, and today seems appropriate for this kind of confession. Seeing you in the morning is the best part of my day. You're so gorgeous it leaves me breathless. I hope you don't mind if I don't leave my name. Just wanted you to know that you're beautiful."
His eyes fill with tears that he blinks back, a goofy smile stretching his mouth wide.
"You good there, Munson?" Robin Buckley asks.
"Oh, yup, yeah, all good." He laughs. "Just got one of those 'you're my favorite teacher Mr. Munson!' notes."
He squeezes the letter to his chest before slipping it in his pocket.
---
The worst thing about Eddie's new job is that someway, somehow, Steve-fucking-Harrington works here too. PE teacher, JV basketball coach, of-fucking-course. Once a douchebag jock, always a douchebag jock. What makes it all worse is that he's still the prettiest guy Eddie's ever seen.
---
The first week of March, there's a commotion in the hallway that has him rushing out of his room, ready to breakup a fight. He finds Harrington already there, holding Dustin Henderson and Will Byers by their shoulders. Troy Walsh and James Dante stand across from them, wearing matching snarls.
Of course Harrington is picking on little nerd kids; he knew it. But before he steps forwards to break it up, Steve speaks, voice low and angry. "You want to tell me what happened here, Troy?"
"Byers tripped. He really should watch where he's going," Troy says. James laughs.
Steve's glare goes even more icy, more disdainful (it's so fucking hot, Eddie hates it). "You want to take that again? And try being honest this time, or you're suspend from the team."
Troy splutters for long enough that Eddie finally notices Will's stricken face, the sketchpad and snapped colored pencils littering the linoleum.
"I saw you take those things from Will, and unfortunately, I'll have to call your parents and you will be responsible for purchasing a new sketchbook and pencils. You're also benched for the next four games."
The boys shout, but when Steve raises a hand they quiet immediately. "You want to complain more, or do you want it to be five games?"
"No, sir," they answer before scampering off.
Harrington faces Dustin and Will. "You boys okay?" he asks them.
"We're good, Mr. H," Dustin answers.
"Glad to hear it." Steve begins collecting Will's ruined belongings, stops to study one of the drawings.
"This is really good, Will."
Will flushes. "Thanks. It's my character for dnd,"
"Dnd? That's that game that El and Max are always talking about? With the character sheets and the dice?"
"Yeah!" says Dustin. "You know it?"
Steve's smile is a little bashful, and it tugs at Eddie's heart in a way he has to ignore. "Not much. Just from what the girls have said. You want to tell me about it?"
"Really?" Their eyes light up.
"Really. You can stop by the gym during lunch. Only if you want to, though."
"Cool," says Dustin.
He pats them both on the shoulder, and they hurry away, leaving Steve and Eddie suddenly alone.
Eddie should head back to his class, hasn't been needed in this situation at all, really, but before he can disappear, Steve spots him and his eyes widen.
"You need something, Munson?" Steve's cheeks go a faint pink.
He shakes his head, feels wrong-footed. "Uh, that was really cool what you did just there."
"They're really good kids," Steve says. "I know them a little. Used to babysit El Hopper." He slides his hands into the pockets of his khakis and, seriously, fuck Harrington for looking like that in a pair of Dockers.
"Babysitter, Harrington? Never thought I'd see the day. Or that you'd be the one defending a bunch of nerds," Eddie says. He means it teasing, but Steve's face warps into a frown.
"Y--yeah, I guess. I mean. I'm trying not to be that guy anymore, and Robin's really helped--"
"Shit, man, I'm sorry. That's not what I meant, at all--"
"--I feel terrible about all that shit I pulled back in school. That King Steve stuff? I was awful and you didn't deserve--"
"Steve!" Eddie cuts him off. "I forgive you. For everything." He looks down at his shoes. "For all I didn't want to believe it, you really have changed."
They're both pink faced now, avoiding each other's eyes. "Thanks," Steve says. "I should get going, but--for the future-- I really wouldn't mind--um--trying to be friends."
The grin that passes across Eddie's face is huge. "Yeah, Harrington, I'd like that."
Eddie has to run to make it to his classroom on time. He passes Dustin and Will and the rest of their gaggle of friends, rushing them along, but forgets all about it as he steps in front of his third period juniors.
---
He and Steve are...friendly now. They chat, they joke, they share smiles that have Eddie's heart beating too fast even though it's not like that. Turns out Steve is kind and funny (a little bit of a bitch too, but in a way that ties Eddie's stomach in knots), and a hell of a teacher.
---
His freshman are in small groups, peer-reviewing an essays, when Max Mayfield catches his eye. She's one of his favorite students and absolute trouble.
"What's up, Mayfield." He asks.
"Are you friends with Mr. Harrington?" She asks.
He chuckles. "Sure, Max, we're friendly enough. Why?"
She narrows her eyes, like she knows he's not being totally honest. "Oh, nothing. He just talks about you all the time."
He's blushing horribly and Max, and all of her friends, smirk up at him. "He does?" He chokes out.
"Mmhmm," Lucas Sinclair says. "Says he thinks you're really cool."
"Definitely one of the best teachers here," Mike Wheeler adds.
Eddie rolls his eyes. "Okay, very funny, guys. How're your essays going?"
They answer, but before Eddie goes to help another group, Will says, "he really does like you, Mr. Munson. A lot."
El nods earnestly up at him. "It is true," she says. "I know him."
"Thanks, kids. I'll keep that in mind." He gives them a smile, tries not to let their words get to him. When he reaches the next group, though, he notices his hands are shaking.
---
Gifts start turning up in Eddie's cubby. It starts with a bag of oatmeal chocolate chip cookies from his favorite bakery. There's a small note that says "from your secret admirer," on the packaging. Every two weeks or so, something new shows up in his little mailbox; a woven friendship bracelet, a yellow rose, Hershey kisses, a delicately painted dnd figure that gives Eddie a small crisis because it's his own bard character, an Iron Maiden cassette, a bag of dice that almost brings him to genuine tears.
Eventually, he gets another note. This one is typed and reads: "I would love to have coffee with you 11am this Saturday at the Cafe on Main Street."
---
He walks into the cafe at 10:50am, wearing his favorite pair of ripped black jeans and a burgundy button-down, his hair pulled into a loose bun. He doesn't recognize anyone there.
Eddie gets in line, studies the menu, and the little bell above the door rings. He whips towards the sound to find none other than Steve Harrington in little wire rim glasses, a butter colored sweater, and jeans the man must have painted on, Jesus Christ. Honestly, the whole thing is enough to give Eddie a coronary (and to, embarrassingly, chub up in his own tight jeans).
"Steve?" He asks. He's overwhelmed with the (stupid, stupid) hope that it's been Harrington all along. "What are you doing here?"
"Henderson asked me to meet him. He around?"
"Uh, no?" Eddie feels heat creeping up his throat.
Steve shakes his head, as though he expected as much. "You alone? We could grab drink."
"I can't believe this." Eddie hides his face in his hands, knows it's gone horrifyingly crimson.
"What's wrong?"
"My secret admirer told me to be here now, so we could meet," Eddie's misery slices through his words. "I'm such an idiot."
"I--your--what?" Steve stammers.
He gathers himself enough to look Steve in his hazel eyes and ask, "I'm assuming it wasn't you leaving notes and gifts for me at work?"
And he expects Steve to say no. To laugh and ask why he'd ever do something like that, but instead, instead he flushes a deep red. "O-only one note."
"What?"
"I, uh," Steve clears his throat. "I left you a note. On Valentine's Day. I--we weren't friends yet, and I wanted you to know how much I liked you. It's --uh--it's pretty silly, huh? Robin's--"
"Steve," Eddie interrupts. He's going to tell Steve that he reads the note often enough that he has parts memorized; that it's the kindest thing anyone has done for him, but what he says instead is, "Dustin Henderson told you to meet him here at 11?"
"Yeah. Said he had something to show me."
Eddie remembers running into Will and Dustin and their friends that day in the hall, the weird conversation in class, the dice and the miniature. Something must click for Steve at the same time because his mouth drops, blush getting somehow deeper.
"Oh my god. Henderson! I'm gonna kill him. They figured out I had a crush on you."
"They WHAT?" Eddie says, loud enough that several looks are aimed their way.
"I'm so, so sorry, Eddie. Holy shit, this is so humiliating. You have to believe me, I had no idea they were doing this. God, I'm really starting to think it is possible to die from embarrassment."
"You have a crush on me," Eddie says instead of any of the dozens of helpful things he could say.
"Um. Yes?"
Eddie takes a deep breath, straightens his spine, and asks, "You wanna have coffee with me?"
"I'd really like that." Steve's return smile is so beautiful, it makes Eddie weak.
---
Eddie Munson is making out with Steve Harrington in the backseat of Steve's BMW. He and Steve spent the day together. They've kissed for so long that the sun has set, both of their lips are swollen, their skin red from stubble, and Eddie is nowhere near ready for the night to end.
Steve breaks away, gently pulling their mouths apart, but arms still tight around Eddie. "Hey, what kind of gifts were they giving you anyway? The kids?"
"Oh," Eddie blushes. "Uh, cookies, a dnd mini, lots of candy, a set of dice."
"Oh my god," Steve says, he pulls a little more away. "Oh my god, I'm going to kill her, Jesus Christ."
"Who are are you killing, sweetheart?"
Steve groans. "Robin. She was helping them. We found a set of dice at this little bookstore and she told me to get them for you, and--" he breaks off with a helpless, frustrated noise.
Eddie doesn't mean to, but he starts to giggle.
"It's not funny!" Steve says.
That only makes Eddie laugh harder. "Your best friend," he squeaks. "And a group of literal children set us up. That's hilarious, Harrington."
Steve's mouth drops and for a second Eddie thinks he'll be upset, but then he's giggling too, his whole face crumpling into it.
Steve pulls Eddie close once the laughter subsides, his eyes trained on Eddie's lips.
"We could pretend we didn't get together," Eddie manages to say.
"What, like, make them think they failed?"
"Yeah. We could tell them I got stood up, but you and I hung out. Had a bro day."
Steve giggles again, and it's the best sound Eddie's ever heard. "I'm absolutely on board with this plan, but you should definitely kiss me some more."
"Oh, yeah?" Eddie asks, his voice low. "And what'll I get out of it?"
"Why don't you get over here and see."
As if Eddie could turn down an invite that enticing. He slides a hand behind Steve's head, drawing him in, and they're kissing like they never stopped. It only been a few hours, but Eddie knows--without a doubt--he's already head over heels.
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augustjustice · 6 months ago
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Pre-S1 Steve Harrington who time traveled to the future would at first automatically assume Robin was his girlfriend and Eddie was his boy best friend who tagged along with them everywhere, including on dates. As the person who spent the entirety of his youth as Tommy and Carol's (vaguely romantic and homoerotically charged) third wheel, Steve sees absolutely nothing odd about this except for the fact that he's now apparently willing to spend all of his time...with two band geeks.
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kurtkankle · 1 year ago
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lavenderstobins · 8 months ago
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robin introduces a house rule when her daughter's maybe four or five: movies after 7pm only, unless they're child-friendly. josie goes to bed at 7pm, so it isn't an issue, really.
the thing is, the rule carries through as she ages, but what robin, steve, eddie and nancy forgot to account for was that kids are smart.
josie, obviously, knows that they only watch films she's not allowed to watch after she's gone to bed. but she also knows that they operate on supposed dinosaur logic, which is if she sits very, very still, they will forget she's there.
it works... for a while.
because one night, they're watching scream, and they've just reached the reveal of who ghostface is. robin and nancy are tucked into an armchair together, and steve and eddie are lounging on the couch. eddie tucked up against steve's chest, says, "oh, stu and billy definitely have a lil something-something going on." they've definitely kissed"
"they've definitely kissed," robin agrees.
on the screen, billy stabs stu to sell their story, and eddie grins. "with tongue, yeah."
and josie, eight years old, far too young to understand any deeper concept of the conversation, pipes up, "why would he stab him if they've kissed?"
and eddie, who had forgotten she was there, yells, "JESUS FUCK!"
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inkstainedheartbeats · 20 days ago
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Robin glares at Steve, a little more heat in her gaze than there normally is. They’ve managed to escape Hawkins and the Upside Down bullshit. The kids are grown and safe. College and rock stardom. She’s finally gotten Steve somewhere safe. But that safe has a caveat.
“You cannot flirt with him,” she tells him seriously.
Steve is her and she is Steve and if Steve flirts with her cousin she will puke.
“I’m not going to flirt with your cousin.”
She squints at him. Buck is exactly his type. A nerd. A dweeb. Big eyes and square shoulders perfect for holding. Well… she’s not sure about the shoulders but he’s built a bit like Eddie and Steve sang songs about his shoulders so she’s assuming. Still squinting at Steve she raises her hand and knocks.
Evan “Buck” Buckley opens the door not expecting to see his cousin Robin on the other side with a man. He knew that she was like Hen, and god she cannot wait for Hen and Karen to meet Robin, for Robin to have the community she was denied in Hawkins, so he feels no shame is flashing her friend a smile. Robin gags. And the friend? He blushes looks at Robin in panic and tries to whisper:
“Oh no, he’s hot.”
Buck has always been more into older lovers, but it probably won’t hurt-
“No! Nope. No flirting. No play flirting. I will puke. And I will puke on your shoes. Steven Marie Harrington don’t you dare.”
Steve leans into Robin’s space. Neither agreeing to the terms nor disagreeing. This is going to be fun.
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harringroveera · 3 months ago
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That still counts as accessories, Dustin!
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lilpomelito · 11 months ago
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Steve being Eddie’s bi or gay awakening whatever. Eddie thinks he’s just so grateful for Steve—I mean the man literally carried him in his arms out of hell like some mythological hero and then basically struck the fear of god on the medical staff who refused to help—so of course he’s obsessed with him, he owes him his life! Of course Eddie wants to know about his day even if Steve thinks it’s boring, of course he brings him lunch to work and maybe adds the little treats he’s seen Steve enjoys like Reese’s cups, of course he’s been listening to Pink Floyd and Dire Straits just because those are Steve’s favorites to gather inspiration. It’s only natural he’s sat Lucas down and demanded he explain the rules of basketball to him so Eddie can at least understand what’s going on when Wayne invites Steve over to watch the game. It’s not weird at all that he asked Jonathan to make a copy of that one cute picture he snapped of Steve roughhousing with Dustin when he develops the film. It’s not strange that he’s read Alice in Wonderland three times just because that’s Steve’s favorite novel. Of course he takes Steve to the movies and he buys him all the snacks he wants. It’s a given that they drive together on a weekend trip Chicago to see a show Steve’s been dying to see. The man saved his life! Eddie’s just grateful, that’s all. That’s why he’s so surprised when Robin confronts him about his “crush”, what crush?? Eddie likes girls! And yes, Steve is an attractive guy, half the town agrees, that’s not a controversial opinion. Who cares that Eddie thinks Steve could be a Hollywood heartthrob if he put his mind and talents to it. He doesn’t have a crush, that’s ridiculous. But Eddie is Eddie and he can’t just leave something be so of course he ends up cornering Nancy of all people to ask her how did she know she liked Steve back in junior year. To his absolute surprise she laughs in his face and tells him not to worry, she’s not interested, and she won’t stand in the way. She also says she’s happy for them, that she always knew Steve “played for both teams” and she’s happy he’s with someone who takes care of him. After that ridiculous conversation Nancy leaves, and Eddie is even more confused than before, because apparently Steve likes guys too, but Eddie doesn’t! Doesn’t he? Nancy is right that he likes taking care of Steve but thats because… well he’s running out of excuses isn’t he?
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sp0o0kylights · 11 months ago
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Eddie led a weird life.
This was something he welcomed, given half the things people thought were “weird” was just his fashion sense or preference for table top games.
Small potatoes to the larger things in life, really. 
Of course, this was before he found out there was an evil version of Hawkins underneath him. 
Now Eddie did things that would previously sent his old self into a fucking coma. 
His friendship with Steve Harrington for example.
Dude saved his life and bridal-style carried him out of literal hell.
It’d have been rude not to be friendly with the guy after that, even if they weren’t both  members of a very exclusive and bloody club, with trauma and secrets that really only a select few people would ever understand.  
Sleeping over at Harrington’s half the week also made perfect sense, and Eddie will argue that to his very grave. 
It turns out nightmares suck, and waking up screaming all the time sucks even more.
Something everyone involved in this entire escapade (and all the ones prior) knew.
Because more bodies means more eyes to look out for you, and feeling safe means you might actually sleep for an hour, they all got used to showing up at each other's houses at odd hours of the night.
Pulled one another out of nightmares and got comfortable with the fact that they slept better, together.
Steve’s house in particular is typically void of both adults and annoying freshmen, which meant it's the most comfortable place for a lot of people to crash together. 
(Sometimes the annoying freshmen do show up and maybe Eddie is also a little weirdly overprotective of the whole Party now, and alright fine, he enjoys all their company, even Erica's--but who's keeping track? 
He isn’t. 
He’s busy arguing all this is perfectly normal.) 
Sleeping in Steve’s bed is where things get a little tricky. 
See, when it was more than just Robin and Eddie crashing at Casa De Harrington, they all sleep in the living room. 
Steve drags out some fancy blow up mattress (an air mattress what the fuck) and changes the couches around and long story short his fucking living room is more comfortable than Eddie’s own bed has ever been. 
But when it's just Eddie and Robin, they retire to Steve’s stupid huge bed, so large the damn thing takes up most of his equally massive room. 
(“This isn’t weird right?” He’d asked Robin once, hanging his head over the edge of the bed while Steve did--whatever it was he was doing to his hair in the bathroom. 
Robin, who was busy rifling through Steve’s drawers for a shirt to steal, stopped and looked at him, one eyebrow raised. 
“Not unless you make it weird, Munson.” She’d told him, and well, that was all the permission he needed.
They slept together in tight groups, where it was easiest to defend each other in case of Upside Down fucking monster attack.
Case closed.) 
Sleeping in Steve Harrington’s bed, without the buffer that was Robin Buckley, is where the lies started.
Because it was weird. 
It was incredibly weird, and did guys even do this solo?
Eddie hadn’t. If one of Hellfire or the band stayed over, it was a strictly floor/bed/couch situation unless there were more than three of them, and that was within Eddie’s small ass trailer. 
Sure they piled up if they had to, but it wasn't like it was with Steve. All tangled limbs and being right up in each others space, no pillow or blanket or anything as a buffer.
Hell, Eddie had woken up getting spooned or doing the spooning more than once, and no one said shit.
How Steve made it sound so genuinely normal was beyond him. 
Not that Eddie argued about it.
 Not the first time of the fifth or the twenty-fifth, and not even after Robin pointed out he was rooming with Harrington more than she was.
Because he just slept better, next to Steve.
(Steve apparently, felt the same.
Or must have given it kept happening.)
It wasn’t like Steve didn’t crash at Eddie’s trailer either--his parents had come right home upon hearing about the earthquake, and had been a bit more present after running into the joint forces of Jim Hopper and Joyce Byers in the hospital lobby. 
Add in Wayne’s own Disapproving Stare (TM) and the town being up each other’s ass to try and keep it together, and suddenly Mr. and Mrs. Harrington were hanging out in Hawkins that much more.
(Steve seemed to think it was more to save face rather than because they actually gave a shit, which Eddie felt was obvious but he wasn’t gonna say it. 
“They’re trying I think. They just--they’ve never encountered anything like this.” He’d said, a little frown line pinching his eyebrows together.
“Stevie, no one has faced anything like what we have. Your parents, on the other hand, are only dealing with what they think is the aftermath of an earthquake and plenty of people have seen those.”
Steve had sighed. Stared a little helplessly, like he knew he was making excuses but couldn’t help himself.
 “I know, Eds. I know.”) 
Them being home more meant Steve was at Eddie’s more--on grounds that Robin’s parents were fine with him hanging out but drew some kind of weird not--very--hippy line at him sleeping over.
Which was fine.
Great even, the Eddie and Steve had never slept better! Sucks to be Robin, who had to call up Nancy Wheeler if she wanted to share.
All this was, was trauma buddies being guy pals who were very comfortable with each other due to said fucking trauma. 
Steve used to help Eddie take a piss for fucks sake, and according to literally everyone else involved in the Vecna related mess, this was their fourth go round with supernatural shit.
Chances of it all happening a fifth time seemed kinda high, even if the gate was supposedly closed and the psychotic meat puppet madman six feet underground. 
Sharing was caring, and caring was not letting your new buddy you saved fight off monsters alone if they popped back up.
Plus he and Steve spent a huge amount of time together, almost as much time as Steve did with Robin.They were all in each other’s back pockets to the point that Eddie’s band was used to it, with Gareth even starting to make secret lover jokes about it all. 
(The dick.)
They were just really good friends dealing with the shit life had dealt them. That was it, that was the whole ass story.
Eddie’s growing gay crisis aside.
So no. It wasn't all the time with Harrington that sent Eddie over the edge. Nor was it the bed sharing, rapidly dropping boundaries, or even the fact that Steve knew where Eddie kept his condoms (An accident Eddie wouldn't ever live down, holy shit.)
No, what sent him into an absolute, hair tearin' meltdown, was the day Steve woke up, rolled over, kissed Eddie right on the lips and then went to make breakfast.
No good morning, no how ya doin.
Steve just left Eddie there, clutching onto the sheets for dear life and mildly terrified he’d just hallucinated the entire encounter.
(Hell, maybe the whole thing was hallucinated. 
Maybe he died in the Upside Down and this was some sort of sick version of the afterlife. 
Eddie pinched himself, and when that wasn’t enough, bit his own knuckle. Both hurt, which was unfortunate, because death seemed preferable to dealing with life right then.)  
Unfortunately for him, Steve did not run back into the room with a myriad of excuses, which meant Eddie had to experience the horrifying ordeal of getting out of bed, putting his clothes on and going into the trailer’s kitchen--because Steve hadn’t even had the decency to wreck Eddie’s life at his own house. 
‘What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck--’
Heart galloping, Eddie put on his big boy pants--metaphorically and physically--before stepping out into the kitchen and confront his friend.
Who was cooking shirtless, without a care in the world. 
It still took him a full thirty seconds to get his mouth to work.
“Hey Stevie? Do you want to tell me what that was about?” 
"Hmm?” Steve replied. His eyes were hooded, hair mussed in a way Eddie knew only a few select people had ever seen it.
He looked half asleep, and proved it a second later when he reached twice for the one of the two mugs on the counter and missed entirely.
Eddie swung in, grabbing one and offering it out for Steve to pour coffee into, before swapping it out for the other mug once Steve was done. 
Stayed in Steve’s space even as the former jock fussed with adding in milk and sugar and whatever else he was feeling, working up the courage to say something.
Anything. 
“Uh, the--just now?” Eddie squeaked. He coughed to clear his voice, trying desperately to act normal.
Look normal.
Like he hadn't just been kissed by the guy he had absolute worst crush on.
Steve, bless him, didn’t tease him. Just shoved one of the mugs into Eddie’s hands and kept the other for himself.
Took a nice, slow sip, adam's apple bobbing and Eddie quickly averted his gaze, staring firmly into his coffee. 
“What happened?” Steve asked a second later, sounding a touch more clear, and not at all like he was experiencing deep regret, or dodging the question, or even aware of what had happened. 
Eddie had two seconds to realize that hell, maybe Steve really didn’t know, before his mouth once betrayed him. 
“When you kissed me?” And motherfucker, for once, Eddie wished he would think before he fucking spoke.
(Wayne had always told him he'd come to regret it. He just hadn't thought it'd be like this!)
“Oh.” Steve said, very anticlimatically. “I didn’t realize I did that, sorry.” 
Eddie's entire body twitched.
One long shudder, like it was rejecting the very words coming out of Steve's mouth.
“You didn’t,” He tried, voice dry and cracking. He realized his hands were shaking and promptly put his mug down before he dropped it. “You just--what, did that on instinct?”
“...Kinda, yeah.” Steve said and why the hell did he sound entirely unphased!? 
Was this some kind of weird jock thing? Did the basketball team all wake up together and kiss each other on the mouth?! Did they think it was some sort of straight--guy haha joke, or fucking--Eddie didn’t even know what, because Eddie was too busy spiraling. 
“Steve I’m gay.” He blurted out, mouth now firmly ahead of his brain. 
He instantly wanted to take it back.
Grab the words with his hands, and cram it into his mouth.
Maybe Steve was only cool with it if he thought Eddie was straight.
Hell, maybe he fucking did it while sleep walking or something and Eddie was the one being weird about it, or he--fuck, really did imagine it and, and--!
“I know.” Steve told him, interrupting Eddie’s catastrophizing entirely. 
“You know?” Eddie stared at him, feeling like the world had fallen out from underneath his feet. “How do you know!?” 
He actually had a pretty good idea of how Steve knew, considering they were both friends with Robin, but while Robin was comfortably out to both of them, Eddie was not. 
Had not in fact, even confirmed that he was queer to Robin herself, though he’d hinted at it plenty and shared more than one inside joke.
Didn’t think Robin had outed him or anything, but more that, well…
Steve was smarter than the kids made him sound, that’s for damn sure. 
“Honestly dude? You’re not subtle.” Steve told him and at least he finally sounded serious.
Like this was a much needed conversation and not some weird tangent Eddie was on. 
“The handkerchief, that triangle pin that you and Robin both have, the fact that you once jumped in my pool to get away from Dustin asking about you're dating life."
He rolled one hand in an etc. all gesture, before adding;  “Also there was that time you and Robin got absolutely smashed on my dad’s whiskey and argued about who the hottest Rocky Horror actor was.” 
Eddie’s mouth sprang open to defend himself, but absolutely nothing came out. 
When had they even watched Rocky Horror together!? 
“You kept insisting the guy who played Brad was hotter than the one who played Rocky, remember? I thought Robin was going to strangle you because she like, adores Susan Sarandon.” Steve continued, like they were having one of their playful little spats and not--not discussing Steve kissing him!
“You guys asked me to tie-break,” He added slowly,  like he was trying to jog Eddie’s memory. “and I told you guys I thought both were hot.” 
Which--oh.
Oh.
“Okay so you’re…?” 
Not going to kill me is what Eddie intended to say, but Steve took it as another question entirely, and answered with a nod and a hum. 
Which--okay. 
Steve Harrington was bisexual, and also already thought he’d come out to Eddie. 
He could roll with that. 
That was not the problem, at all. 
The problem was; “That doesn’t explain the kiss though?!” 
Steve finally put his coffee down, huffing out exasperatedly. “I  wasn’t lying when I said I didn’t realize I did it, man. We share a bed a lot and I guess I wasn’t--I must have--” 
And now, finally, Steve was getting embarrassed. A red flush spread across his cheeks and down his neck, vivid even on his tan skin. 
He ran a hand through his hair, and Eddie knew purely from the sheer amount of time they spent together that it was a self-soothing action. 
“I guess I’m sorry?”
It came out less as a question and more as an accusation-- which Steve himself seemed to hear because he immediately corrected it with a far less sassy and much more sincere; “No I am--I’m sorry.” 
None of which answered why Steve had kissed him. 
“You didn’t think I was Nance, did you?” Eddie asked, because apparently he just couldn't stop while he was ahead.
Maybe he should have died. It'd be better for both of them, considering he was doing about as good as kicking Steve while he was down.
Steve, the guy who had saved Eddie's life and was now one of his best friends and here Eddie was, dragging this out of him like a moron.
“No.” Steve said immediately. Reflexively, almost, firm and sure. “I am very aware you’re not Nancy.”
‘Let it go Eddie. Don’t make it weird Eddie. Just laugh it off and say okay--’
“Then who did you think it was? I mean you said it was instincts and like, I'm not stupid. I know I can be confused for Nance in the low light, it's happened before but--"
Stupid, stupid, stupid! 
“I didn’t think. I knew it was you." Steve interrupted. "I knew I was kissing you, Eddie."
Oh god, just kill him now.
Hell he'd even take a Vecna death! With all the gross gore and the shitty villain monologue!
"This morning I was tired, and I was sleepy, and I apparently skipped the part in my head were I asked you out and we were dating.” Steve deadpanned at him.
Eddie gaped, mind shattered and rapidly reforming.
It was like the universe was recreating itself, only this time all the stars had aligned and his wish had come true and some Disney director had taken control of his life--
“But I get it if I’m not your type." Steve was saying, because Steve was perfect.
And Kind.
And wanted to date Eddie.
"I’m sorry if I made things uncomf-mmphhh!” 
‘Mmmph’ because Eddie had flung himself at Steve, face first, the second "I asked you out and we were dating" had finished processing.
(Which was alarming fast, considering he'd been struggling all morning.)  
‘D--ff--ing?” 
Steve laughed in his mouth as Eddie tried to talk while kissing, pulling away slightly and holding his chest back with a hand when Eddie tried to chase him anyway. 
“Yes, dating. As in, would you, Eddie Munson, like to go on a date with me, Steve Harrington?” 
“Yes.” Eddie’s mouth said. 
At least this time it and his brain were on the same wavelength. 
“Yes I very much would.” He put some weight into his lean, making it harder for Steve to hold him back. “I think you can tell, by the way I'm trying to kiss you. Which you are not doing."
He pouted, and refused to be embarrassed about his behavior.
Steve laughed, and he might have said something like “God you changed up fast” except he had given in and let Eddie close again, and his words were now being swallowed down.
Eddie's life was weird alright, and now it was weird even by his own standards, but he wouldn't have it any other way.
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ghost-proofbaby · 5 months ago
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kissing lessons, pt. 2
summary: you and robin face the music that maybe the kissing lessons aren't just lessons after all.
pairing: robin buckley x fem!reader
warnings: even more sapphic yearning than the first one (in my opinion), lots of religious imagery scattered sporadically, and a lots of hints/passing mentions of homophobia (no talk of violence, etc.) that was normal in the 80s. there's even more discussion of reader conforming to the usual and dating a boy. once again, reader is explicitly female.
wc: 3.3k+
a/n: i cannot explain how healing writing this has been. shout out to younger me for surviving the way my own experience ended with a lot more heartbreak - you deserved a robin buckley, baby ghost. and thank you to everyone who read the first one and was so very kind. i am eternally grateful <3
part 1 here
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It was your own damn fault, probably. 
Robin may have been the one to ignite the fire, so prettily asking to start having those godforsaken kissing lessons, but you’d be the one clutching a bottle of gasoline. You’d been the one fanning the flames with each arrangement you’d insist upon, Saturday after Saturday always being spent one predictable way: kissing your best friend. 
In your bedroom, in her living room, behind the slide at the park. 
Mid-afternoon, early mornings, in the dead of night. 
Any time that you can find an excuse for it, your lips were attached to Robin Buckley’s, chipping away at your own demise, and it was all your fault. 
There wasn’t a handbook for this, though. There was no pamphlet to explain all the butterflies that would erupt in your stomach every time she’d smile at you slyly just before she’d lean it to initiate the kisses, no how-to for stopping the shake in your hands as you’d cradle thighs and cheeks alike as if they were the most sacred of sacrifices, no survival guide for all the heartache that now haunts your every waking moment when you think about the smell of her perfume. You had no one who could explain away your obsession with the taste of passion fruit lip smackers these days. 
You were in love with your best friend, and it sort of felt like some type of terrible shipwreck done by your own recklessness. 
And if she felt even an ounce of the same way, you couldn’t see it. You simply couldn’t allow yourself to read any further into the brushes of her hand in the hallways that had grown more consistent. If you daydreamed too long about the way she’d been so overly supportive of you wearing skirts to school more often these days, you’d quite possibly self-implode. It was all a dangerous game, a hopeless drowning in the middle of the Atlantic, and you were just letting it happen. 
“Why was that Connor guy talking to you in the hall today?”
And if you read too much into what you so desperately wanted to describe as jealousy in her tone right now, you’d certainly combust in the blink of an eye. 
It wasn’t even a Saturday – it was a Friday. Saturdays were the holy days, the days in which you could guarantee you’d taste her all over your tongue and be allowed to gather all your offerings in the form of worshiping whispers and guiding movements as she straddled your lap. The rest of the week, the two of you were nothing more than the best of friends. On Fridays, you should be nothing but two girls who find innocent and platonic solace in one another. 
It’s just hard to do when all you’re capable of thinking about is how soft the skin of her neck was nearly a week ago, when your lips had trailed down to her pulse point in such feathery light brushes. 
“Oh!” you sit up from where you’d been spread out on her bed, looking up at her with sudden excitement as you watch her spin in her desk chair, “I forgot to tell you! Holy shit, you’re going to love this.” 
The moment it had happened, you’d started mentally counting down the moments until you’d have the chance to tell Robin of the awkward conversation. You can’t believe you’d forgotten about it so easily once you’d gotten the girl alone. 
She pauses her spinning immediately, blinking rapidly as she was clearly dizzy, “What do you mean? Why am I going to love it?” 
“He asked me out to milkshakes.”
You wait. And wait. And wait. Nearly quaking with all the anticipation for your best friend to burst out into laughter with you over the irony of it all. 
You just keep waiting. 
The laughter never escapes Robin, her face stoic as she doesn’t even smile. All the giggles and rolling of eyes you’d expected to share is completely erased with that look on her face currently. A look you almost mistake as hurt, a look that reaches far beyond jealousy.
The look of someone standing amongst the wreckage of an abandoned ship. 
When she finally speaks again, with deflated shoulders and the corners of her mouth down-turned, it’s soft enough you almost miss it. “Did you say yes?” 
It was the one question you hadn’t been expecting – you’d assumed it had been a given that you’d turn the poor boy down. 
“Obviously not,” you snort, uneasy as you rifle through your mind, a sudden desperation to make Robin smile or to lighten the mood immediately rearing its head. 
“Obviously?” 
This conversation is very much not going the way you had seen it play out in your head. Robin’s missing all of her lines, none of her expressions lining with the directorial vision you’d been gifted with when the moment had happened. 
No saccharine laughter, no sweet joy. None of the sugared reactions are rotting your teeth out. 
Instead, there’s just a strange and hollow ache. The vacant expression of Robin’s face that twitches ever so slightly with something more below the surface, and a tension in the air that wraps around your throat tightly. 
“Yeah, I mean,” you choke out, trying to stave off your discomfort, “We both know how I feel about milkshake dates. And besides, he wanted to go tomorrow, and we already have plans-”
“You could’ve said yes,” she blurts out. As soon as the words fall in the space between you two, she’s wide-eyed, staring at you like a scared deer caught up in your headlights, “Our plans- They-” she pauses, and takes a deep breath that almost looks painful, “You could have said yes if you wanted to. I’d live. Plus, it’d give you a chance to put our lessons to use.” 
No sweetness, only a sour on your tongue that makes your face twist. “Why would I use our lessons on Connor from pottery?” 
Why would I ever want to kiss somebody that isn’t you? 
The thought easily makes you sick to your stomach. The lips of someone who isn’t Robin Buckley pressed to yours, the hands of someone who isn’t your best friend tracing the curves of your body. You think you’d rather die. 
“I dunno,” Robin is mumbling now, almost looking ashamed. The last thing you’d wanted to do was shame her. You’d just wanted to share a laugh with your best friend, “That was sort of the point, right? You wanted to get good at kissing-”
“We,” you correct her.
“What?”
“We wanted to get good at kissing. You can’t tell me there’s no boys in the band that have asked you out or you’d have a chance to kiss. You’re…” Even as the words are ash in your mouth, sticking to the roof of your mouth and making it hard to breathe, you force it all out. The only words left are the truth, anyways, “Beautiful, Robs. You’re fucking stunning, and funny, and so kind. Who’s your Connor from poetry, hm?” 
It’s a dagger to the heart. It’s alcohol on a paper cut, salt in a throbbing wound. Every cliche and morbid pain in the books is racing through you at what you’ve just said. Asking her about boys is worse than simply accepting it as a hypothetical. Having to actually hear about boys chasing after the girl that’s occupied you irrevocably is worse than imagining them all. 
At least in your imagination, they could all be fumbling over their feet, falling to the dirt as Robin cackles and arrives straight to her original destination – you. At least in your imagination, you stand a chance. 
“God, no,” she scrunches her nose up, immediately standing from her chair, “Oh my God, no. Ew. I don’t- I’d never-” 
“You’d never?” you raise an eyebrow, watching as she nearly starts to pace. 
“We were talking about you!” she bursts out, arms flailing out beside her, spinning so she was stood right in front of you, “You and Colton-”
“Connor.”
“-and how you should go get milkshakes with him! You should’ve said yes, okay? You could say you have a boyfriend when you get to college if you’d said yes.” 
Boyfriend. A word that will never, ever leave your lips. Not just when it came to Connor – when it came to all the boys in your school. All the boys in your town. All the boys in the goddamn world. 
That word doesn’t fit. It’s too tight, too confining. Strangles you in all the wrong places and makes your chest constrict in the worst way. 
You don’t want a boyfriend. 
You want your best friend to stop pacing, you want your best friend to hold your hand, you want it to be Saturday and for your best friend to kiss your fucking face off.
Pathetic, only because you don’t think you’ll ever find the nerve to say it to her out loud. 
“Who cares if I have a boyfriend when I go to college?” you spit out, struggling to even say the damn word, “I could give two shits if I-”
“I care!” Robin is turning erratic, wild as she tugs at her hair and looks at you with such misplaced desperation. You don’t know what she wants from you – you can’t give her what she’s asking of you, “I care, because you deserve to have that normal experience. You should be out there, kissing boys and going on dates to share a milkshake and- and- and… not spending your Saturdays with me, hiding away and kissing me and sharing chapstick and making me feel all these stupid feelings-” 
She cuts off roughly, a small gasp leaving her lips as she realizes what she’s just said. 
Making me feel all these stupid feelings. 
“What do you mean by that?” you whisper, sharing at her, shocked, “What do you mean by stupid feelings-”
“Forget it.”
“No.” 
“Yes,” she pleads, taking a step back when you stand up in front of her, “Dear God, please forget I ever said that. I’m literally begging you.” 
Stupid feelings. 
What does she even define as stupid feelings? 
Is it that her heart races whenever you suggest another lesson? Is it that warmth that spreads head to toe every time you grab her hand casually? Is it all that pain with nowhere to go at the end of the day, when you bury your face in a pillow and scream out all the what-ifs you assume you’ll never explore in this lifetime? 
You think about your parents. The ones who are never home, or are oblivious in the kitchen as you shut your door and quickly return to your bed, where your best friend is awaiting you eagerly just to get her tongue down your throat. You think of Robin’s parents, who force her to go to church every Sunday, never realizing she can still taste the strawberry chapstick all over her lips come morning. Whispering all their prayers in the same tone she’d whispered your name the night before. You think about all the peers your age who spend their Saturday nights in diners, sharing milkshakes and planning their futures – their normal futures. 
White picket fence, a mid-size dog to run around the yard. Two and a half kids, and a wedding ring gleaming on the finger on their left hand directly connected to their heart. The same one that Robin always fiddles with while the two of you sit and do homework together, the same one Robin once slipped an old coin-machine ring onto as a joke when you were thirteen, cackling about some sort of marriage pact that had every adult in vicinity glaring at the two of you. 
All the things you can’t dream about. Because when you do, it’s never the nice boy your father points out at the grocery store. It’s never that boy your mother finds absolutely darling, who lives two houses down and has offered to mow your lawn numerous times. 
Every time you try to picture it, it’s with Robin. 
Her with a matching ring you’ve bought for a quarter, her lipstick staining the matching mug on your kitchen counter during a quiet morning. Kids with her freckles, kids with all her spunk. A dog she’d name something incredibly niche, and that you’d fight her on endlessly, but end up giving in simply because you love her. 
Whenever you try to look to the future, it’s with the girl before you, who has tears gathering in her lash line now. Embarrassment painting every inch of her exposed skin, and her chest stuttering with every gasping breath. 
Stupid feelings. You’d become entirely acquainted with stupid feelings, you just hadn’t realized that Robin had as well. 
“What do you mean by that, Robs?” your voice cracks, begging all but on your knees at this moment. Everything you could possibly want right in an arm’s reach. 
You don’t even need the picket fence or the dog. Kids could vanish right from the dream. The house could become a quaint apartment in the city. The morning coffee could be traded for peppermint tea. As long as the thing that never changes is her, you don’t really care where the visions lead. 
She says your name so softly, you nearly break down entirely. You want to hear it for the rest of your days. The way the shape of your name curls around her tongue and falls from her lips, “You should just forget I said anything, I mean it. Go home and call Connor-”
“Fuck Connor!” you suddenly raise your voice, so entirely done with all the boy talk. All the expectations and all the definitions of normal. Your finger on your left hand, connected directly to your heart, throbs. “I don’t want to share some half-melted milkshake with that… with that… idiot! I want to share it with the idiot in front of me right now. I don’t want to practice kissing on him, I want to practice with you. I don’t want him, and I don’t want that boy who bags groceries at Melvald’s, and I don’t-” 
Robin Buckley is the brave one. She shuts you up about all the ones you don’t want, by giving you the one thing you do want. 
Soft palms, soft lips. Gentle hesitation to soothe the scars of a future you never really cared for. Fruity lip balm that somehow perfectly matches airy perfume. 
She’s kissing you like her life depends on it. Like she’s feeling an ache in the joints of that finger connected to the heart, and she just can’t take it anymore. Like she loves you. Or at least likes you. 
And you’ll take what you can get when you reach up to grab onto her anywhere you can find. Bunching her shirt at her hip with your first, fingers curling around her forearm that’s connected to the hand cradling your cheek. You can’t possibly lean into it all enough; can’t press your lips any tighter against hers, can’t have any more of your limbs bumping into hers as you stumble backwards and onto her bed. 
She’s crawling over you, little puffs of breaths escaping between kisses, hovering above you with a halo of sunlight leaking in through her bedroom window. 
She looks like a God you don’t believe in, and one she can’t be spoon-fed to worship anymore. All holier notions are focused on you. Fingers trailing their way up under your shirt and hips bumping against yours as you both try to learn what to do with this new position. 
It’s better than your best friend seated in your lap, timidly moving her tongue. It’s nicer. 
“Stupid feelings,” you breathe out when she moves to pepper kisses on your cheek, on your jaw, on your neck, “Stupid fucking feelings.” 
“Sometimes, I wish we’d never started the lessons, you know?” she whispers when she pauses at your collarbone, peering up at you with those glossy blue eyes. Oceans deep, ready for your ship to roll right into. Ready for your ship to crash in. “It made all of this so much harder and complicated.” 
Your fingers slide into her hair, tugging at the sporadic pieces that you’d helped cut a year ago. The saddest excuse for layers ever, “Made what harder?” 
You want to hear her say it. You need to hear her say it. 
“Liking you.”
If hearts could burst, yours would be fluttering shreds behind your ribs. Nothing more than the aftermath of finally, finally, hearing those words fall from her lips. 
“You like me?” your cheeks ache immediately from your grin, so wide it occupies your entire face. You swear you can see its reflection in her eyes. 
Her head lifts and you see some of the fear still lingering behind her own smile, “Yeah, doofus. I like you. A lot, actually. And I just always assumed you liked that Cooper boy-”
“His name is Connor.”
“I know,” she laughs, face contorting as she bites back more giggles. It’s no use though, as her head falls forward and her forehead lands on the center of your chest, “I just- God, I sort of hated him. I heard him ask you out for the milkshake and I just wanted to punch the dude-”
“You heard?” you’re laughing now, head thrown back, “I’m sorry, you knew why I was talking to him, and you still tried to play all coy and ask me?” 
“Can you blame a girl for trying?” 
No. No, you really couldn’t. You can only imagine the ridiculous plans you’d elaborately conjure if you’d ever overheard a boy asking Robin out on a date. All the jealousy ploys and childish schemes, born out of all the sunshine she’s been instilling in you since the first day you’d met her. 
And imagining that is fine. But what you no longer have to imagine is a Robin who chooses you, the scenario in which you can simply grab her and kiss her until you’ve run out of breaths and your lungs have shriveled into nothing more than feathers in your chest. 
So you do. 
You tug her back up to you and kiss her, far more languid than she’d initially kissed you. The slow movements of lips with all the time in the world. The steady movements of hands that belong as you run them over her shoulders and down her back, bring them to those hips you’d been adoring every Saturday. 
You kiss Robin Buckley on a Friday, simply because you can. 
Nice, your mind rings out. Nice, nice, nice. 
This was nice – this was right. None of that discomfort at the thought of letting Connor kiss you, no strangulation at the word boyfriend. You feel like you can breathe for the first time in your life as you kiss your best friend serenely and let all of that love seep out of your skin when it presses to hers. In the background of it all, a new word forms, a soft blanket of comfort rather than something to wrap around your throat. 
Girlfriend.
Now that? That sounds nice. 
“Hey,” Robin says when she pulls back slowly, tip of her nose still bumping yours, the weight of her still between your thighs, “Do you want to…. I don’t know, go get a milkshake with me or something?” 
You don’t think about either of your parents, or any of the self-righteous vipers who might be prowling the town on a Friday night. You know it won’t be the same as going to the diner with a nice boy – you know you won’t be able to kiss her on the street or cuddle up quite as obviously, keep her quite as close as you so desperately ached to, but it was okay. 
It was enough. For now. 
“Only if we can get strawberry,” you quip, unable to help yourself as you lean up for another brief peck. 
The peck isn’t enough. You don’t think any amount of Robin’s treacly kisses would ever be enough. You’d probably spend an entire lifetime just trying to get your fill. 
“Deal,” she rasps, clearly sharing the sentiment as she leans back down, kissing you right back. Eager lips not quite satisfied. 
There would be no screaming or crying into pillows tonight. 
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morganbritton132 · 1 month ago
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Steve Has Older Siblings AU: Robin Edition
In an ideal world, Steve’s family life is completely separate from everything important. But in an ideal world, monsters don’t exist so, you know.
1. Technically the first of Steve’s siblings that Robin meets is Jason because he came into Scoops Ahoy to be an asshole. Robin liked to see King Steve knocked down a peg or two more than the next person but not by a forty year old (he’s 32) loser who has nothing better to do on a Tuesday afternoon. Robin sees him knock Steve’s hat off his head and then informs him that they had a zero tolerance harassment policy (they don’t) and they can and are denying him service. “So leave, now.”
2. The first time she is aware that she’s meeting one of Steve’s siblings is after Starcourt burns down. They were drugged, tired, and Russians took Steve’s car keys so it felt like a good idea to just lay back on the hood of the Beemer and watch the smoke swirl in the air until they come up with what to do.
They never think of anything, and she is startled awake the next morning hungover and dehydrated by someone laying on their horn. Robin looks at the car and then at Steve, and then asks, “Is that your dad?”
Steve - looking somehow worse than yesterday - just blinks in the direction of the car like, “Richie?”
“Get in the car,” Richie practically seethes, barely lets them get in before he starts asking questions like, what the fuck and are you high, right now?”
“I don’t dooo drugs, Dad,” Steve spat out annoyed and Robin, in the backseat, felt compelled to adds, “Drugs do me.”
They both start giggling and can’t stop even when Richie tries to lecture them.
3. Robin meets Jason again when he attacks her.
She doesn’t remember much about the car ride back to Loch Nora or how Steve convinced Richie not to take them to the hospital, but she remembers flopping face first onto Steve’s cloud of a bed. She remembers him taking her shoes off for her and pulling the covers up.
Then she is rudely woken up by a hand yanking her out of bed and big arms wrapping around her head. They’re barely there before Steve is shoving them off her like, “Fuck off, Jason.”
“Carver?” She asks but, no. It’s the dick from the mall. She is ignored while Jason prattles on about how it’s not his fault that Steve looks so much like a girl that he confused him with one. Then he’s whistling about how Steve has a girl in his bed and how surprising that is to them considering they all thought he was a queer.
Robin stiffens beside him. New queer ally, Steve Harrington, not wanting her to be uncomfortable, blurts out, “What if I am?”
And the room goes quiet. Steve’s quiet. Jason’s frozen. Richie, coming in through the door, wasn’t moving. This family doesn’t really paint a picture of unconditional love and acceptance so Robin throws her entire (unsuccessful) theater career into use and slugs Steve in the arm with a snort like, “Yeah, right. With all the girls you flirt with? Ha!”
And everything comes back to life. The hospital conversation comes up and morphs into an argument immediately. Robin is just happy to fade into the background and observe.
4. Robin probably should’ve met Claire that day too but the hospital was an apparent disaster. She actually meets Claire randomly at Family Video.
She sees a woman who’s kinda cute come in and peruse the shelves. She comes to the counter where Robin is on register and Steve is stocking candy right next to her.
She’s carrying The Muppet Movie and makes small talk about watching it with her kids, and never looks twice in Steve’s directly. She’s not in the system and just laughs, “It’s probably under my maiden name, Harrington.”
Robin gives her a tight smile and finishes the transaction. Claire leaves with barely a ‘bye’ to her brother and Robin decides right there that she hates them all.
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