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unfinishedslurs · 2 years ago

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aware of his bisexuality steve (steddie, buckingham)

“Is that a hickey?” Comes out of Steve’s mouth without permission. But there it is, bright purple and red against the slope of her neck. She’s been walking kind of funny this morning, too. He’d assumed her period came early, but… “Rob, did you—“

Eddie fumbles the coffee mug he was pulling down. Chrissy freezes, face turning white with fear. Robin whips around, face bright red, and slaps a hand over her neck.

“Bathroom!” She yelps. “Bathroom now!”

“Wait,” Eddie says, setting the mug down with trembling hands. “It was me. Sorry, man.”

Steve stares at him, unimpressed. Why the fuck would he lie about—

He looks at Chrissy again, who takes a nervous step back, and it clicks.

“Right,” he says, nodding quickly. “You. You gave Robin a hickey. Had totally awesome sex that she didn’t even tell me about.” He directs that last bit at Robin pointedly. He told her almost immediately when he lost his guy-ginity. Traitor. “Yep. Sure. Got it.”

Eddie blinks, confused. Robin buries her face in her hands.

“Oh my god, calm down,” she groans. “That’s not going to work. Steve’s cool.”

“Cool?” Chrissy asks, still looking ready to bolt.

“Super cool,” he assures her. “The coolest. So incredibly cool, even if my best friend didn’t even tell me when she lost her virginity.”

“Steve!”

“Sorry, sorry,” he says. “But I am going to need details, Buckley. We can go over what worked, and what needs more oomph.”

“Oh my god, can we talk about this anywhere else,” Robin groans, at the same time Eddie asks, “What, so you can get off on it later?”

“What,” Steve says.

“You think two girls are hot, is that it?” He’s got a sneer on his face now, but Steve’s more observant than Dustin gives him credit for. Even if he wasn’t, it’d be hard to miss how hard his hands are shaking, the nervous tilt to his mouth.

“Ew.” Steve’s face screws up. “Dude, no. It’s Robin.”

“Hey, fuck you,” Robin breaks in, from where she’s started comforting Chrissy. “You thought I was hot for at least a summer.”

His mouth drops open in betrayal. “We agreed to never talk about that again!”

“Can’t help being sexy,” she coons. Chrissy giggles wetly. “You wanna get married, Harrington? Have my babies? Stay home and raise six little nuggets while I bring home the bread?”

“I hate you,” he informs her. “Hate you so much. We’ll have a nice, heterosexual wedding and share a sad, heterosexual kiss, and you’ll carry me over the threshold of our nice, heterosexual house, and we’ll have boring, heterosexual sex that gives us nice, heterosexual babies, because we are so heterosexual and happy in our suburburban house in our nice little heterosexual town.”

He’s honestly kind of proud of himself for saying heterosexual so many times. Usually he fumbles words with that many syllables, especially after that many times in a row.

Chrissy is outright laughing, now, endearing little snorts making their way between giggles. Eddie is looking between them like they’re a puzzle he can’t piece together. Robin grins.

“I’ll cuck you with the secretary.”

“Not if I cuck you first. You’ll be away all day in that office of yours, and I need someone big and strong to carry all the new furniture I ordered.”

“I knew it! I knew Timmy wasn’t mine!”

“Oh, but I couldn’t help myself,” he swoons. “Mark was just so sweet, with his bulging biceps and hand flexes, all hot and sweaty from helping poor little me while you were away! You know I’m weak to curly hair and brown eyes, Rob, how’s a man supposed to resist?”

“Fag,” she says, not without affection.

“Dyke,” he shoots back.

“Cocksucker.”

“Carpet—“

“Okay,” Eddie breaks in, clapping his hands. He and Robin both startle, and so does Chrissy from where she’s been watching them like a particularly interesting tennis match. “What the fuck is going on?”

“Robin lost her virginity and didn’t even tell me,” Steve says immediately, like he’s tattling to the principal.

“Steve doesn’t seem to understand the concept of waiting,” Robin retorts.

“I told you when I had gay sex,” he whines, and Eddie chokes. “I hate you. See if I ever give you tips again.”

“Oh, is that what you meant?” Chrissy asks. “Please don’t stop. They were good tips.”

Robin flushes all the way down to her toes.

“You like boys?” Eddie wheezes.

“Oh,” Steve blinks. “Yeah? I thought you knew.”

“You thought I—how would I know?”

The fuck is that supposed to mean? Steve’s been flirting with him for months!

“Robin always says we can sense each other! You sensed her.”

“You told him?” Eddie’s mouth drops open, and Robin looks sheepish.

“She didn’t have to,” Steve snarks. “You’re flagging in Hawkins, man. Was I supposed to miss it?”

“You know what flagging is?”

“Again, in case you missed it, I fuck men.”

“Fuck,” Eddie mutters. “Fuck! Christ, I can’t believe this. You’re, like, the epitome of heterosexual. I spent half of high school having to hear about how much pussy you were getting. Why are you not straight?”

“Wow, Eddie,” he deadpans. “Are you saying just because I like men and woman, I’m not queer enough? That’s kind of homophobic of you, man.”

“Yeah, Eddie, wow,” Robin says. “I thought you were better than this.”

“Fuck off,” Eddie says. “I feel like I need to lie down. My entire worldview just shattered.”

“I have a couch?” Chrissy offers shyly. “Or a bedroom, if you need a minute away.” Fuck, Steve kind of adores her. Especially since she’s apparently vicious n bed, if the five other hickies he counts just from Robin bending down a little to whisper in her ear are any indication. Good for her.

“Don’t worry, Eddie,” Robin says, with a glint in her eye that means he’s either going to love or hate what comes next. “If it helps, Steve’s never fucked a man in his life.”

Eddie’s brow furrows, looking between the two of them. “So…you’re just making fun of me?”

He looks a little angry now, and Steve can’t make heads or tails of this conversation because, “What the hell, Rob, yes I have—“

“Oh, so suddenly you’re the one doing the fucking?”

“Stop making fun of me for taking it!”

Eddie lets out an honest to god moan that he immediately slaps his hand over his mouth to cover up. “Right,” he says fervently. “Okay. I need to lie down, like, for real.”

They watch him stride down the hall, so fast he’s almost running, and slam the door closed behind him.

“I could totally top,” he mutters to Robin as something that sounds vaguely like muffled screaming echoes down the hall. “I top girls all the time. It’s not my fault prostates are a gift from God.”

“Uh, you top because all the girls you fuck are from small town Indiana. If one of them brought out the strap you’d drop to your knees so fast—“

“That’s—I like topping!”

“Your favorite position is cowgirl. Forgive me if I don’t believe you.”

“I will show Chrissy your baby pictures,” he hisses. Robin makes a face at him. Chrissy nods excitedly from where she’s still tucked under Robin’s arm.

“Oh what’s that?” Robin practically shouts. “You like being pressed against walls and ravished? You want someone to tie you up and have their filthy way with you? Is that what you said, Steve?”

Another noise from the bedroom. He narrows his eyes at her. “What are you doing?”

“Helping,” she says sweetly. “You’re both hopeless.”

“I told you he’s shy!”

“Eddie?” Chrissy asks. “Shy?”

“Yeah, okay, I was confused too, but I figured it was the romance! He told me he hasn’t actually been in a relationship before, I assumed he was nervous to take that step.”

“Yeah, but dingus,” Robin says sweetly. “You’re missing a puzzle piece here. He thought you were straight. He thought he was flirting with his straight best friend he didn’t have a chance in hell with, and then he finds out that said best friend likes taking it up the ass and men with brown eyes.”

“Oh,” Steve says, realization dawning. “Oh, fuck. What if he doesn’t like me like that?”

Robin smacks the back of his head. “Why are you stupid?”

“I don’t think you have to worry about that,” Chrissy says. “Like, really don’t have to worry about that.”

“I’m not coming over tonight,” Robin says. “I’m gonna stay with Chrissy again. Er…if that’s okay?”

“That sounds amazing.” Chrissy beams, and Robin turns red again.

“Yeah, I’m going to stay with Chrissy again tonight. You are going to invite Eddie to stay the night when he gets done with his little crisis, and then we’re getting lunch at the diner tomorrow and you can tell me about it before our shift.”

“Right,” Steve says. “Right, I can do this. I’ve invited guys over before, how hard can it be? It’s just Eddie. But that was hotel rooms, not my house and my bedroom with my shitty wallpaper. And it’s Eddie. Fuck, what if I’m shit at it? Robin, what if I’m actually bad at sex and everyone who’s ever said I was good was lying because they didn’t want to hurt my feelings? Oh my god, I’m totally bad at sex.”

“Woah, dingus, slow down. I think we took the mind meld too far, you’re turning into me.”

“If it helps, I don’t think you’re bad at sex,” Chrissy says. Steve and Robin look at her, and she flushes. “Because of the tips! Not because—I’ve never slept with you, but some of my friends did, and I got three orgasms out of last night, so…”

“Oh thank God,” he breathes. “I was worried for a minute.” Then he raises an eyebrow at Robin, and holds out his hand for a high five. She slaps it, begrudgingly proud of herself, and then takes the hand to pull him into a headlock that’s honestly more of a hug than anything.

“You’re fine,” she whispers in his ear. “You’re great at sex, as you keep telling me. What’s more, you’re funny, charming, handsome, brave, caring—“

“Aww, Robin, are you getting sappy on me?”

“Plus Eddie literally moaned in front of you when he found out you bottomed. I really don’t think there’s a way to fuck that up.”

Steve grins. “He did do that. I’m going to make so much fun of him later.”

“So,” Eddie says with a smirk, “men with brown eyes?”

“Hey man, don’t look at me. Blame Jonathan.”

Now Eddie looks stunned, mouth dropping open. “Byers?” He says, sounding betrayed. “You have a crush on Byers of all people?”

Steve feels offended on Jonathan’s behalf. “What’s that supposed to mean? Jonathan’s a good guy!”

“I guess.”

“What do you mean you guess? He’s sweet, passionate, good with kids, nice eyes. Can pack a punch. I mean, what’s not to like?”

“Uh, didn’t he steal your girlfriend?”

He waves that off. “That was, like, years ago, man. We’re cool now.”

“Right, okay,” Eddie mutters. “Well have fun with Byers, I guess.”

It clicks. “Oh,” he says. “Oooh. You’re jealous.”

Eddie splutters. “Jealous? I’m not—I don’t—you’re jealous!”

“Oh, am I?”

“Yes,” Eddie says resolutely, not looking at him.

“Right,” Steve agrees. “Well, if I am jealous, maybe I should know that I got over Jonathan years ago, and have since moved on to brighter, hopefully more attainable pastures than my ex’s ex.”

“Oh yeah? Like what?”

“A different man with brown eyes?” He suggests. “Who is also good with kids, and passionate, and…” he trails off, suddenly realizing all those times Robin made fun of him might not be based on nothing. “Oh my god, I have a type. Shit, I have to tell Robin she was right.”

“I figured that was a common occurrence.”

“Shut up. Where was I going with this? I had a point.”

“You were telling me how awesome I am?”

“Oh, suddenly it’s you we’re talking about?”

“I mean,” suddenly Eddie looks shy, and Steve can’t help but think even with the change in context he might have been right when he told Robin Eddie was nervous about being in a real, romantic relationship, “isn’t it?”

He feels himself smile, slow and wide and probably more revealing than he means it to be. “Yeah,” he says, in a tone he knows Robin would call soppy, “it is.”

#technically all my bi steve fics have him aware he'd bi but for the purpose of naming we'll call it that #aware of his bisexuality steve au #i am ALWAYS jonathan was steve's awakening truthing #steddie #buckingham #i think that's their ship name?#eddie munson #steve harrington #robin buckley #chrissy cunningham #accidental outing #i'm not really a bottom steve truther but i thought it would be funny for this #stranger things fanfic

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sc00ps-ahoy · 1 year ago

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its kinda weird watching something with canonically gay characters when im used to having to make them gay myself.

#rwrb #red white and royal blue #stranger things #steddie #lgbtqia #fandom #fanfic #buckingham #ronance #byler #elmax #it #reddie #teen beach movie #lol #gay #bi #lesbian

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bellarkeselection · 9 months ago

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The Venus Muse

Princess Y/n has no desire to be just some man's wife. She wishes to explore the world and all the way up to the stars. And she may get her once in a lifetime chance when her mother, Queen Charlotte invites the Bridgerton family to the castle. The artistic Bridgerton son might possibly sweep the princess off her feet.

1 - Welcoming the Bridgerton’s

2 -Interesting Conversations

3 - Escaping with a Bridgerton

4 -

???

Comments really appreciated ❤️

Tag list - just ask to be added @abq654 @your-musicguru @imgondeletedis @eruannaaa-blog @cherrylovers-world @benedictbridgertonss @callmedarlingsstuff @carrotcaratsworld @sillynilly27 @emmampl-blog2 @bright-molina @erynel1zasworld @ynbutbetter @stranger-chan @blckbarbiedoll @sanaar3006 @urmoom12345 @ritz-hell-hotel @ritz-hell-hotel

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yearningagain · 5 months ago

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it's enough (to make a girl blush)

HIIII EVERYONE so you know that fic i was asking for a beta reader for?? well i found one!! and i'd like to present the first chapter of it's enough (to make a girl blush), my first SERIOUS fic that i 100% intend on finishing!!

i'd like to thank the amazing @kayleeofcamelot for being my lovely beta reader <3

also on AO3!

wc: 1.1k | rating: e (18+) | pairing: steddie | cw: none | tags: a/b/o, alpha eddie munson, omega steve harrington, modern au, baker steve, famous eddie, getting together, gay eddie, bi steve, soulmates/true mates/scent mates, side buckingham

part two | part three

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"God, fuck- alpha, please ..." Steve begs, sat upon a man's toned, yet lean thigh, grinding and rutting against it as he chased his high. The man chuckled darkly, his hands coming to grip Steve's hips, tight enough that Steve knows there will be bruises, guiding him along roughly.

With barely open eyes, he managed to peek at the hands that would surely leave marks come morning. Dark tendrils of tattoos that stretched from the man’s second knuckle and up his arms. Fingertips calloused and dexterous, nails bitten and paint chipped, and almost every finger has more than two silver rings adorning it, save for his right hands ring finger. No, that finger holds only one ring. An aged, loved, golden band with three small red crystals set in a line.

Small gasps left Steve's lips, every roll of the omega’s hips pressed his cocklette deliciously against the fabric of the omega's thin shorts. Both pants had surely been ruined by the amount of slick that poured out of him, but he couldn't make himself feel bad about it, even if he tried. Something inside him, his omega , told him that the alpha was having just as much fun as he was.

"Ah- ‘M close, alpha..." Steve pants, head feeling pleasantly fuzzy. He could smell how his own scent had changed, the spiced apple scent turning into something heady and thick. Suddenly, he got hit with the most divine scent in the world. Campfire smoke and pine, a hint of petrichor and old books. Home- a whispered thought. It almost sent him over the edge.

Almost.

Then, all of a sudden, everything felt wrong . It was as if he was floating away from his body, his mind a balloon escaping a child's loose clutch. He couldn't smell the alpha, just his own scent turning sour and rotten. The cool sensation of the man's rings where they pressed into bare skin suddenly spread all over, no longer comforting, but as if ice water had engulfed him. Something nagged at him, though, in the back of his mind. Something like a spark, settling into the omega and igniting coals to keep him warm and happy.

And Steve opened his eyes.

—

Steve glared at himself in the mirror, bare in preparation for a shower. There were no marks, no evidence of anything happening. One more glance over his entire body confirmed that there was nothing left of the alpha. It was a simple wet dream. The only thing that kept him from dismissing the dream entirely was his strong disappointment when he woke up alone, and the low thrum of energy he could feel stemming from his inner omega. (And the slick-soaked sheets he'd have to deal with later.) If he focused hard enough, he could almost hear the whispering rumble of "Mate. Alpha. Mate. Alpha."

He shook himself from his stupor and hopped in the shower. What did it mean, this newfound warmth over someone he'd apparently made up in his mind? Was he really that lonely? No, of course not.

(Yes. He was.)

After turning over question after question in his mind only to come up blank, he sighed. He'd have to talk to Robin about this.

Reluctantly set in his decision, he got out of the shower and patted himself dry, threw his hair up in a towel, and put on a fresh pair of sweats. Throwing a glance at his alarm clock, it read 9:57 AM . Robin should be awake by now, hunched over their dinky coffee machine with her eyes still closed and dried drool on her chin.

It was Sunday, so Robin didn't have class and the bakery Steve worked at, Claudia's Cakes , was closed for the day. He figured he could take her out to lunch. Maybe the deli two doors down from the bakery? He had been having a craving for their Cubano recently.

Stepping out of his room and shuffling to the kitchen, Steve found Robin exactly like he thought, arms braced on the counter to pillow her resting head. The coffee machine gurgled away, the strong scent mingling with Robin’s earthy strawberry aroma.

"Morning, Robs."

A small groan is all he got in response. He chuckled softly and fetched the sugar and creamer, setting it on the counter next to his best friend's birds nest of bed head. Taking his place at their table, he opened up his phone to check his messages (mostly from Dustin talking about some band he found online). Soon, Robin slumped into the chair across from him, a mug of coffee placed in front of him as she sipped on her own. Now that she was actually awake, she looked at him with a curious expression.

"What? Do I have something on my face?" Steve asked her.

She hummed, taking a calculating look. "No, nothing on your face. You just... you smell different. Not bad different! Just different, like instead of cinnamon apple cake, you smell like roasted apples. And honey? What's up with that?"

Steve is surprised she doesn't spill her coffee all over the place with how she flings her arms around, emphasizing her question with a pointed finger and finally slamming her mug down.

"I don't know, dude.” Another glare from her. "I really don't! Anyways, did you want to grab lunch at the deli today? My treat."

Sighing and giving him one last glare, she shrugged. "Yeah, sure. I’ve been meaning to stop by the record store, could we swing by on the way back?”

Steve threw a pointed glance to their overflowing record crate below their old record player, a housewarming gift from Robin’s mom. She huffed in response, crossing her arms and mumbled “I just want to look.”

Crimson painted her cheeks and she avoided his gaze, which was all Steve needed to know. He knew Robin had made a friend (or crush rather) in her music theory class at UIC, and she and Steve were basically some sort of cosmic twins, and he knew all of her tells. So when he asked if he’s finally going to meet her, she really shouldn’t be that surprised. She still looked up at him with wide eyes, dropping her arms to the table. Another pointed look from Steve and she relented, “She told me to stop in when I could because she wants to show me this really cool limited edition vinyl the store got in recently and she looked so pretty when she asked, Steve. She had these pigtails and she was wearing this eyeshadow that made her eyes pop and she was wearing the skirt I told you about, the one with the hearts? Yeah, that one! And her sweater was, like, four sizes too big and she looked tiny! Anyways, how could I possibly say no when she looks like that?! She batted her eyelashes at me, Steve. Don’t give me that look.”

The omega simply sighed, shook his head fondly, and stood up.

“Be ready in an hour, Buckley.”

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little-annie · 5 months ago

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Thanks to the @strangerthingswritersguild for the prompt and @eyesofshinigami for the brain worm 🪱 our conversation created.

Did you know in fan fic writing the term Rubber Ducking refers to bouncing ideas off of each other/ brainstorming with friends? Well I didn't. I thought it was a sex thing.

From that, this idea was born.

Rubber Ducking | M | 873 WC | Steddie | Buckingham

It was a cold February night when the first sighting occurred. The air in the apartment had felt different. Charged with an electricity Robin couldn't explain.

Something was happening. And at first she had thought it was an anomaly, then maybe a coincidence.

But then it kept happening.

Those black empty eyes met hers and mere hours later the sound of the city was lost to the wails of the night.

It sounded like torture.

Like the stripping of flesh and bones.

But even more horrifically, Robin learned it was anything but.

Sure, there was flesh and bone, but how Steve apparently getting absolutely railed by Eddie in the next room over had any connection to the rubber ducky that ended up on the living room coffee table every so often, Robin hadn't the slightest clue.

She just knew that unfortunately there had to be one.

A few weeks later, sitting at the breakfast bar and trying to ignore the low hanging neckline of Chrissy's already frankly obscene tank top, Robin notices the presence of yet another rubber ducky.

This one donning a Sailor's hat and suit. Similar to the one she remembers her and Steve wearing in their days at Scoops Ahoy.

Not twenty minutes later she's met with Eddie asking if she knows where Steve hid his old uniform. Regrettably she tells him, and that night goes to bed taking precautionary measures with foam plugs in her ears.

The following week there's a light blue ducky on the coffee table instead, then a grey ducky the week after. Then after a few more weeks there's what appears to be a leather daddy ducky.

Sometimes in between there's a plain normal rubber ducky.

“You figure it out yet?” Chrissy asks one evening, plopping down onto the couch next to Robin and setting her feet in her lap.

God what she wouldn't do for this girl and her polka dot pink fuzzy socks.

Looking over at the boys who are now apparently disgustingly in love, and currently trading lazy kisses and giggles back and forth in the loveseat, Robin sighs, “Unfortunately.”

She nearly had the code cracked before a drunken Steve had told her what it all meant.

Original Ducky = Someone is horny.

Sailor Ducky (Sir Butterscotch) = Someone wears the Scoops uniform.

Light Blue (Richard) = Someone wants to give / receive head.

Grey (Bari) = Someone wants to be tied up/do the tying up.

Leather Daddy = "You really don't want to know Robin.”

So essentially flagging, she figures, but with various types of rubber duckys, which is horrific in its own way.

Now when one of them is feeling it, they pick a rubber ducky of their choosing and leave it out on the coffee table as a subtle way of asking for the represented attention.

“Sex Duck,” Robin sighs, leaning her head against the back of the couch, turning to look at Chrissy, “They have a fucking sex duck.”

“Like that show with the sex mug?”

“Like the show with the sex mug.” She answers flatly

Sure seeing the ducks at home was bad enough, but when they started appearing in the wild it was so much worse.

First in Steve's car on the dash, then Eddie's van, then one day at work when Eddie came sauntering in and pulled a light blue ducky from his pocket, tossing it in Steve's direction before walking off towards the employees only bathroom.

They think they're subtle, but really they're not.

It's just another Tuesday evening when a new ducky makes its way onto the coffee table in the living room. Traditional like the first, but donning a pink bow and black painted on lashes. Feminine. Cute.

Like a game, Robin's began trying to decipher the meaning behind every duck before Steve inevitably tells her. It helps her cope with the trauma.

This one though, makes her wonder.

Sitting on the couch staring probably a little too intensely at the newest addition to the boys collection, Robin hardly notices when Steve plops down beside her.

She startles when she notices him, his voice catching her off guard. “Whatcha doing?”

“Trying to figure out what kink of yours this little lady represents.”

Steve hums and Eddie joins them shortly after, settling in the rocking chair across from them, giving the ducky the same odd look Robin had been moments ago.

“Whatcha doing, Buck?”

She gestures to the duck, “Figuring out her deal.”

Feminization maybe?

“Chrissy?” Eddie asks

“What?” Robin looks up from those cute long lashed eyes, “No. Your duck.”

Next to her Steve huffs a laugh, crossing his arms and leaning back against the couch. “Not our ducky, Rob.”

What?

“Course it is.”

“Not our ducky, Babe.” Eddie repeats Steve's words.

It has to be. “Well it's not mine.” Robin grumbles.

“No, no Rob it's not.” Steve nudges Robin's knee with his, “Maybe it's meant for you though.”

No.

No?

Looking far too excited, Eddie smirks, “Chris is in her room isn't she?”

Well… it… it wouldn't hurt to check would it? Maybe the boys are just teasing her, playing a game. But on the off chance they're not…

“You gonna go get your girl, Rob?”

Jesus Christ, she's going to, isn't she?

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spicysix · 2 years ago

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i was a no (never 'maybe'?)

"Robin takes her by the waist with one hand as the other reaches her face for a caress. Their eyes meet and Chrissy smiles before tilting forward. Her skin is silky smooth and as their lips meet there are fireworks- “Whatcha’ doin’?” Eddie’s voice is right by her ear. ❀ She’s pressed against a door, and Chrissy’s hands are on both sides of her head. She smells citric, her hair’s up in that cheerleader ponytail with the bow to make it better. Her lips are glossy, and Robin knows they taste of berries, and she confirms it once Chrissy leans in and their lips meet. There are fireworks- “What are you doing?” Robin wakes up from her daydreaming with Nancy’s voice behind her." or: Robin has a chronic problem of daydreaming about her crush.

warnings/tags: pining, friends-to-lovers, farmer market!AU, Robin is gay and oblivious, everyone else is gay and a meddler, fluff!! word count: 3.8k author's note: happy buckingham taking over jargyle jursday - so i guess it's Buckingham Bursday? anyway. and happy pride! 💚🏳️‍🌈 entirely based on the song and music video of 'chance' by Hayley Kiyoko (lesbian Mother yayyyy). you decided this one, remember that poll? heh, thanks for that. also shoutout to the ST rarepairs discord server for the help coming up with what everyone in this farmer market sells. hope y'all like it, happy reading! ♡

↳ ao3

Robin takes her by the waist with one hand as the other reaches her face for a caress. Their eyes meet and Chrissy smiles before tilting forward. Her skin is silky smooth and as their lips meet there are fireworks-

“Whatcha’ doin’?” Eddie’s voice is right by her ear.

“SHIT!” she shrieks, startled, before turning to face Eddie as he has a knowing smirk on his lips. Steve is behind him, trying to hold in his laughter. “I’m not doing anything!” she defends herself even if she knows they’re not gonna buy it.

“If you’d just let us meddle, you’d be together by now,” Eddie says as he shrugs.

Robin’s eyes go back to where they were just a few seconds ago. Chrissy is now talking to a client, a candle in their hand as she tries to make a sale. Robin knows that one, it’s the Lemon Meringue. Robin has three of them. The client should buy it, even if the delicious refreshing citric smell is not what makes them, Chrissy’s smile should do it. It’s what does it for Robin, anyway.

“I’m not gonna let you two idiots meddle. Either this will happen by god’s own will, fate’s written words, me growing metaphoric lesbian female balls, or it won’t happen at all!” she answers without taking her eyes off of the client putting down the Lemon Meringue and picking up the Passionfruit Martini. An excellent choice too. Robin once had six of them from when Chrissy started trying them out. She’s down to just one now, finally.

A loud bleat interrupts her train of thought, and Eddie’s screaming goat scares Hennifer Aniston and she starts cackling loudly as well.

“Jesus Christ, get out of here with your Baphomet,” Robin shoos Eddie and he laughs before pulling the rope around the goat’s neck. Robin picks up the chicken, Hennifer’s a very cuddly one so she calms down once she’s in Robin’s arms.

“This one’s Phillip, babe, you’re mixing them up,” Eddie says.

“They all look the same and you know it!” Robin fights back and he just waves a hand in the air, not caring about Robin’s antics. He knows she’s just mad because he’s a meddler.

“So do your chickens, by the way,” Steve notes as Robin puts Hennifer back in her little playpen.

“They do not! Stop siding with your boyfriend, don’t you have jam or pies or cakes to sell or whatever?” she retorts once again and Steve laughs. “You gay people don’t take care of your own lives and want to meddle in mine! Absurd!”

“We’re bisexual, don’t erase our sexualities! You’re gay people too, Bobbin, and my love life isn’t disastrous as yours is so I could be a good adviser.” He shrugs before leaving a few bills on Robin’s counter and picking up a tray of eggs she had separated for him earlier. “But you’re right, I do have jam and pies and cakes to sell. See you later, Bobs.”

She hums at him as he leaves for his own stall. The peak rush hours are closing in and Robin will get busy soon. She knows the chicken in a playpen gathers attention, and so does the little poster she has containing the chicken’s informations — name, age, personality. Kids love them. And the parents love the eggs, she’s been on the papers once with her high-quality chicken eggs. She’ll start getting her regulars in a few minutes and she’ll have to deal with her stall all alone because Nancy couldn’t help her in today.

Yet, she lets herself lose a few minutes more staring at Chrissy’s stall. The client is leaving with a Tangerine Drizzle — they clearly like the citric ones. Chrissy is counting the money and storing them away in her little detailed wood box, an Argyle Original. She doesn’t notice Robin staring, she never does.

A client approaches, and Robin lets out a sigh. She’s got work do to.

❀❀❀

She’s pressed against a door, and Chrissy’s hands are on both sides of her head. She smells citric, her hair’s up in that cheerleader ponytail with the bow to make it better. Her lips are glossy, and Robin knows they taste of berries, and she confirms it once Chrissy leans in and their lips meet. There are fireworks-

“What are you doing?” Robin wakes up from her daydreaming with Nancy’s voice behind her.

She squeals and turns around too fast, and the cornflakes in her bowl fly out and scatter around on the floor. The chickens are happy with that. Nancy is leaning against the fence, and the knowing smirk on her lips says it all.

“You really have to make a move, this is getting pathetic,” she says as Robin finishes spilling the corn.

Robin leaves the chicken coop and marks the tally on the mental note of tasks to be done.

“What’s with you bisexuals and your inability to stay away from my love life. I don’t wanna hear it from Ms. I Have A Boyfriend-In-Law.” She rolls her eyes as she starts going back to her house and Nancy follows after snorting.

“Jon and Argyle are pansexual, don’t erase their sexualities. And it’s called a polycule, by the way.”

“I’m not erasing-” Robin starts, but stops herself once she sees Nancy’s playful smile. She’s just teasing. “You people will be the death of me.”

Nancy just laughs again and they enter Robin’s house.

Chrissy’s there.

“Robin! Hi!” she greets excitedly when she turns around and sees them entering.

“Chrissy, hello,” Robin’s gotten better at not stuttering when she’s around her crushes. It took her half her life, yes, probably, but at least she’s got it now. She doesn’t ramble and babble awkwardly anymore. “Is there something I can help you with?” She’s also a professional.

“Steve asked me to get some eggs for him? Said he’s got a big order and can’t find the time to stop by himself,” she answers, that beautiful smile of hers still on her lips. Nancy is already heading to the place where the eggs are stored.

Robin narrows her eyes as discreetly as she can while her mind runs. Steve has no big orders this week. Robin knows that, because Steve lets her know every time he does, because she’s gotta separate the eggs for him. He would’ve told her about a big order.

Lying, meddling son of a bitch.

“Here it is, Chris,” Nancy shows up with two dozen eggs and Robin narrows her eyes again.

Chrissy hadn’t said how many eggs Steve asked for.

Lying, meddling sons of bitches.

“Thank you so much!” she says to Nancy before turning to Robin again, who’s just standing there acting weird. “Your birthday’s coming up, right? You’re gonna throw something?”

“Uh, yeah, next week. I don’t know, I’m not much of a partier. Maybe just a nice brunch,” she says, and Chrissy’s still looking at her with expectancy. “If I do, I’ll be sure to let you know, of course! You’re always invited.”

Robin’s answer widens her smile, and Chrissy looks down at her feet with blushed cheeks. Robin feels like screaming. She’s so fucking cute.

“What’s your favorite fragrance again?” she asks and Robin snorts.

Yours, she wants to say. She holds it in.

“Um,” she looks around.

There’s one of the Lemon Meringues on the table by the door. The last Passionfruit Martini is on her bedside table. She knows there’s a Cherry On Top somewhere in her office, and a Blackberry Cobbler in the living or the dining room. She’s been meaning to get a Tangerine Drizzle since she’s seen that client buying one that day, but she’s also been thinking a lot about a Banana Boat to replace the last one she had in the bathroom.

“Ambrosia Salad?” her answer is more of a question, because of course she can’t decide, but it seems to be enough for Chrissy. She tilts her head like a puppy dog — so adorable, really, Robin’s about to implode — and smiles again.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” she says. Robin’s heart is about to flutter out of her chest.

She hands the money to Nancy, who’s the one now just standing there, but she’s not being weird like Robin was, she actually has that annoying know-it-all smirk. Robin wants to strangle her.

But then Chrissy comes closer and leaves a kiss on Robin’s cheek, and maybe Robin is about to defy every single rule of the universe and become a puddle, liquefy instantly to the floor. Her cheeks are burning, and her brain seems to have short-circuited and, seriously, it’s fucked up that a single little blonde girl has so much power over her. That shouldn’t be allowed.

Chrissy leaves and Robin watches through the window as Chrissy crosses her lawn. She throws kisses to the chickens and Robin feels like she has no more place in her heart to fall in love even more, and yet she still does. Robin stares until she hops up on her bike and leaves, and she doesn’t notice Robin staring, she never does.

“Bet you wanted to answer ‘her perfume’ or something sappy,” Nancy says behind her and Robin turns around too fast, head going dizzy.

“Will you shut up!” she yells, and Nancy laughs.

“Robin, seriously. Talk to her! I could cut through the tension between you two five minutes ago.”

Robin doesn’t answer, instead, she comes up with a random topic to talk about. Jonathan’s and Argyle’s woodworking, or whatever. How’s that going? Selling lots of wood… works? Nancy lets her change the subject, because she knows Robin sucks at talking feelings, and honestly, Nancy kinda sucks at it too. With each other, at least.

“I wanted to say her actual skin smell, which is much better than any cheap or expensive perfume on the market, by the way,” she still teases back before Nancy leaves later that day, and Nancy laughs loudly and Robin lets herself giggle too.

When it doesn’t hurt like a bitch, being in love is actually kinda funny.

❀❀❀

They’re lying side by side on the grass, and their fingers are intertwined in between their bodies. Chrissy rolls to her side and so does Robin, and their noses almost touch. She’s got that pretty smile of hers that makes her blue eyes shrink until they almost disappear, her little wrinkles show how much she smiles all the time, and it makes Robin’s heart beat so fast. She leans in to kiss her, and the stars above them twinkle and there are fireworks-

“What doing?” Robin’s startled by a tiny voice beside her.

She’s sitting on the park grass, her back against a tree and she could’ve been more undercover if she had just remembered to put her sunglasses on her eyes instead of resting them on the top of her head.

“Doing nothing, Holly,” she answers, and the smallest of the Wheelers just shrugs and sits beside her on the grass.

“She’s pining. As usual,” Dustin answers, and only then Robin sees that the entire Party is there.

Holly doesn’t mind the answer, probably doesn’t even know what the word means, and just starts ripping grass out of the ground. Will and El sit close to Holly and start playing with her. Mike stands and hovers above the three of them, all knight-in-shining-armor pose.

“Huh, the babysat become the babysitters. Steve handed you the business keys?” she asks as the rest of the teenage menaces approach. “It used to be the other way around, you know? It was one guy with a gaggle of children, and now it’s one child with a gaggle of guys,” she finishes.

“Yeah, world’s funny that way, don’t try and change the subject, your pining is disgusting,” Dustin retorts and Robin rolls her eyes.

“Now the teenagers are meddling too, what have I done to deserve that?”

Robin stops looking at them, puts her sunglasses over her eyes this time, and focuses back on her initial interest. Chrissy and Heather are a few feet ahead having a picnic, far enough not to listen but close enough that Robin has a privileged view. They had picked a few flowers and Heather had weaved a few of them into Chrissy’s braided hair. She looks beautiful, like a fairy or something. Robin wants to be Heather so badly, touching Chrissy’s hair so absently, handing her flowers and basking in the late winter sun with her. If she didn’t know Heather was painfully straight, she would’ve been painfully jealous.

She swears she’s not stalking. They got here after she did. She just lost interest in the book she was reading before they appeared. But Chrissy didn’t notice her staring anyway, she never does.

“You and Chrissy have made it the entire town’s problem with your longing and yearning and lack of action. We’re obligated to see it, so you’re obligated to listen to our complaints until one of you actually goes ahead and asks the other out,” Max is leaning against the tree but Robin doesn’t tear her eye from Chrissy to look at the redhead.

“You’d be such a cute couple,” Lucas says and Robin wonders what kinds of sins she had committed to be karmically pestered by a gaggle of teenagers about her private business.

She’ll talk to the others later, tell them to get a hold of their younger siblings. They are so out of line.

“Look, you children don’t understand, okay? I don’t want to risk our friendship, because I like her very, very much. And this is a small town, and we have to see each other weekly and if things don’t work out it’ll be very awkward. There’s so much at risk, things that you kids have no idea about, and I will not! Risk them!” I won’t risk us, she wants to say.

They all look at her for a while after her heart-gutting speech. She looks back, defying them to say anything, and she’s almost sure she’s won her made-up staring challenge when they look at her with sympathy. But Erica ruins it.

“This is not about the gay thing, is it? Because, like, half of our group is part of the rainbow community, birds of a feather or whatever. Girl, we’ve been knowing.” Lucas hisses at his sister for her lack of touch, and she shrugs. “Just the facts.”

Robin takes a deep breath and starts thinking how she’ll answer that without cursing or being very rude and possibly scaring the Little Wheeler forever. Holly doesn’t deserve her rage, she’s clearly the best sibling in that family.

“She doesn’t even like me back, okay? Just the facts,” she mocks through gritted teeth. “Let’s just drop this,” is the best she can manage in a really dry tone, and she thinks it’s enough when they all go quiet again. Until Will speaks.

How did Steve manage, honestly? The man’s a saint, he’s gotta be. Kids are infuriating.

“Robin, I promise we’ll stop talking to you about this, and you don’t have to do as we say,” he says. “But, really. Just consider the possibility of talking to her. If it goes well, and I think it will, it really pays off,” he finishes and Mike, who’s still hovering and looking around as if a monster is about to appear out of nowhere, actually blushes. It’s almost cute.

Robin gives Will the smallest of smiles, that woman-love-woman to man-love-man solidarity smile, but doesn’t answer him. Doesn’t let them know that she’s considering following the advice coming from fucking teenagers (who all seem to have better love lives than she does, but that’s not the point).

Damn you, Will The Wise.

❀❀❀

She’s coming in Robin’s direction, the sun making her blonde hair shine bright and her skin glow, but her smile’s the most blinding of it all. She smiles at Robin in a way no one ever had, and it makes her warm inside. Chrissy’s finally close enough to touch, and Robin doesn’t hold herself and takes her face in between her hands. She smells of chocolate chip cookies in the oven, of laundry softener, of a flowery garden, she smells of home. Robin’s eyes almost tear up simply at the thought of her, and she can’t keep it in, she say’s ‘I love you’, and Chrissy answers, ‘I love you too’ before leaning in to kiss her, and Robin knows there are fireworks-

“Robin?” Chrissy’s voice sounds uncertain and it snaps Robin out of it.

Okay, she really is pathetic. Daydreaming about the girl while she’s talking to her, wow, this has reached a new level of absurdity.

“I’m sorry, so sorry!” she sputters, cheeks burning, hands sweating. “You were saying?”

“Just… happy birthday,” Chrissy smiles, hands Robin a gift box, but it’s such a small smile. A shy one, not good-shy, but fearful-shy. “Can I talk to you for a second?”

Robin can only nod, and she hands the gift box to Steve so he can keep it safe for her. No one around her is making any noise, and she knows they’re being watched by all these meddlers, so she glances at Joyce before turning to Chrissy again.

“Inside,” she almost whispers, before turning around and heading for the Byers’ house.

They’re having her birthday brunch there because Joyce’s porch is the best and her backyard is one of the only ones without animals or trees or woodworking stations. She also loves hosting, so it’s a win-win situation. Argyle cooked, Steve baked, Hop’s working on the barbecue and everyone’s having a great time.

Or, was. Until Chrissy appeared, made Robin’s brain stop working and now there’s that weird tension in the air. Robin knows she fucked up, she fucked up big time, but oh god, Chrissy looked so beautiful. She looked so beautiful every day, but she had such a pretty dress on today, and her hair was up in that cheerleader ponytail with a bow to make it better, and she has a shiny lip gloss that makes her lips look so kissable, and she smells of honey and coconut, and Robin wants her.

Robin wants her so badly, and Robin dreams of her when she’s asleep and when she’s awake too, and she has never wanted someone this much. And she has never known so deep inside her soul, how she can’t have someone as much as she knows she can’t have Chrissy. Robin’s not a particularly insecure woman, but she knows Chrissy would never pay her any mind.

“Why do you hate me?” Chrissy asks once they’re inside, and when she turns around to face Robin her eyes are wet.

“WHAT?” Robin yells, then cups her mouth for a second. “I’m sorry, shouldn’t have yelled, but. What?”

“I don’t understand. I keep catching you looking at me sometimes, but then you look away immediately and sometimes you look almost angry. You don’t hold big conversations with me, you seemed pissed at me that day with the eggs, and just now you weren’t even listening as I was talking.” Robin is in total shock as Chrissy starts listing things on her fingers. “It wasn’t like this! We were friends, Rob, and suddenly you started being so weird. Why invite me to your birthday if you don’t want me here?”

Yeah, they were friends and then Robin caught feelings. And apparently made it weird. Maybe she wasn’t as good with the girls she liked as she thought she was. She stopped rambling and babbling awkwardly, sure, but now she apparently shuts them out. Definitely not great either.

“Chrissy, I want you here, I do!” she says, and her voice falters because Chrissy has no idea how much Robin wants her. “I’m so sorry I made it weird, I just…” She closes her eyes, takes a deep breath and remembers Will’s words. Oh wow, that’s pathetic for sure. “I don’t wanna be just your friend, Chris. I want more.”

She opens her eyes to face her demise because if she’s gonna be turned down she’s gonna take it proudly.

“You want… more?” Chrissy asks, and she takes a step further into Robin’s space.

“Yes. I like you. So much. So much, it’s pathetic.”

“You… like me?” she asks again, eyes wide open, and Robin gulps before nodding. Oh, god, here comes the blow. “Oh, Robin.”

Robin has no time to ask ‘what?’ because Chrissy throws her arms around Robin’s neck and their lips touch.

For real.

There are no fireworks, actually.

Fireworks are deafening loud, they’re bright and blinding. They jet, they spiral, they splatter. They can be scary, they’re everywhere and they’re overwhelming, and they’re too much sometimes. Just like Robin is most times. Loud, spiraling, everywhere, and overwhelming. Too much.

Chrissy’s kiss is not too much. It’s just enough.

It’s calm, and it’s relaxing, and it’s giving and giving and giving, but it’s receiving just as much. It’s stillness in a once stormy ocean, it’s silencing of all the high-pitched sounds that can be deafening, it’s thrilling in a way that makes Robin’s heart stump loud but rhythmically. Robin’s body loosens up, tension and anxiety leaving her, brain going quiet in, for once, a good way. She’s not overwhelmed, her senses aren’t screaming at her, she’s focused on the present moment. Chrissy tastes of fruit, of course she does, and she smells of home because it’s what she is. Her skin is warm as Robin holds her with no intention of letting her go, but it’s nothing like her dreams.

Because it’s real. And it’s so much better.

They separate their lips but their foreheads are still touching.

“You have no idea how much Eddie and Heather have been pestering me to talk to you,” Chrissy whispers almost against Robin’s lips, and she snorts.

“Oh, I sure do.” She wants to hate her friends for being right all along, but she can’t find it in herself to be anything but insanely happy.

“We’ve been two blind idiots, haven’t we?” Chrissy giggles, and it’s angelic as a sound can be, and Robin wants to crack Chrissy’s ribs open and live inside her chest. She nods at Chrissy’s question.

“I was so sure you didn’t like me,” she admits. “I looked at you all the time, daydreaming of this all the time. Reality’s so much better.” She tightens her grip around Chrissy’s waist to prove her point, to prove to herself it’s real.

“You didn’t see me staring right back.” It’s not a question, because the answer is obvious.

“I was too much of a blind idiot to see it, apparently.” She smiles and she leans in and she kisses Chrissy again. Because, oh god, she can do that now.

“But you see it now?” Chrissy asks.

“My eyes are wide open, Chris. And I see you now.”

#buckingham #buckingham fic #buckingham fanfic #buckingham oneshot #robin buckley x chrissy cunningham #chrissy cunningham x robin buckley #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfic #lui writes

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thefreakandthehair · 2 years ago

Text

The thing about drinking at 31 years old is that it's different from drinking at 18 years old– or 21 years old, or even 25 years old. Each shot, each drink, is one sip away from a terrible night’s sleep and an equally terrible morning.

Eddie Munson’s figured this out. Steve Harrington though? Steve Harrington has not.

That’s how Eddie finds himself corralling his husband onto the couch after stumbling into the house, the front door slamming loud enough to jolt their cat out of her otherwise peaceful slumber. She glares for a moment before stretching her paws and curling back into a neat little ball.

“Okay, okay, okay,” Steve repeats, an immediate tell that he’s definitely not making it any further than the couch anyways. “I’m good, I’m fine, this– this is a nice couch.” He punctuates his thought by slapping the cushion and laughing.

Eddie shakes his head and grins. “Yep, it sure is. You picked it out, remember?”

Steve gasps and laughs some more, falling back into the corner of the sectional. “I don’t but it’s comfy so if I did, I did a good fucking job.”

He watches with fond comfortability as Steve squirms around on the couch and lays back, arms over his head and dopey laugh still on his lips. It takes a lot of willpower and frankly, respect, not to climb on top of this giggly, flushed, disheveled man he loves so goddamn much and kiss him until he’s flushed for other reasons, but he digs deep and focuses on doing the next best thing: taking care of him. Eddie’s a little worse for the wear in his own right but a sliver of his iron constitution remains from his wild youth and he hangs on by a thread.

Eddie gets Steve situated into a comfortable position, his back against one side of the cushions and his head propped up on a few pillows to make sure he doesn’t end up with his face smushed into the corner somehow.

“I’m good, I’m fine– hey, hey, what are you doing?” Steve slurs and Eddie looks up from his position at the end of the couch, his fingers moving quickly as he unties Steve’s sneakers.

“Taking your shoes off? You can’t sleep in your jeans, Stevie. You’ll thank me tomorrow.”

Steve hums from somewhere high in his throat but doesn’t say anything else Eddie moves to unhook his belt.

“Stop–stop it, hey, I’m married!” Steve smacks Eddie’s hand and Eddie barely suppresses a cackle. “You’re hot and all but I’m married and my husband’s hotter than you anyways.”

With that, Eddie can’t stop himself. Warmth spreads through his chest as he laughs, from his heart all the way down to the tingling in his toes. Even drunk, even with his eyes closed, Steve would still choose him without a thought and sure, after all these years, it shouldn’t come as a surprise but it does. Because Steve is Steve, and Eddie is Eddie, and Eddie still hasn’t figured out what huge karmic debt he must’ve paid for them to have become SteveAndEddie.

He stares at Steve who’s nearly asleep but feebly muttering words like “hot,” and “perfect,” and “lucky.”

“Hey, hey, Stevie, open your eyes for a second?” Eddie brushes the hair back from his forehead, gently shifting it away from his bloodshot, glossy eyes. He’s beautiful, even like this, what the fuck?

“Oh,” Steve’s eyebrow unfurrow and the right side of his mouth turns up into a small grin. “It’s you. Hi, Ed.”

“Hi, Steve.” Eddie chuckles and kisses his forehead. “Gonna get your jeans off so you can sleep, okay?”

“Mhm, yeah, that’s– thanks.”

Eddie coaxes them off, tossing them onto a chair where they’ll remain until the next morning, and sets a glass of water down on the coffee table for when Steve inevitably wakes up with cottonmouth. One more soft kiss and an even softer blanket later, Steve is out and Eddie tip toes up the stairs to bed.

The next morning, Eddie wakes to see Steve next to him. At some point, he must’ve woken up and gotten himself to bed which gives Eddie the opportunity to stare uninterrupted in the silence of their bedroom. It stands in stark contrast to the boisterous night before– the loud music and jumping bodies and Chrissy popping a bottle of champagne in celebration of Robin saying yes, as if there’d ever been a doubt.

Steve’s on his back, the sun just starting to intrude on their tranquility. He takes in Steve’s features, the same ones he’s memorized time and time again but that never fail to stun him just the same. The moles, the freckles, the scars that make him ache and feel thankful simultaneously. The strong line of his jaw, the eyelashes that flutter as he sleeps, that one tendril of hair that insists on curling until Steve forces it into place. Eddie’s seen a lot of the world now, having traveled a bit with his band, and there’s nothing that compares to the man sleeping next to him.

Even if he’s snoring.

When Steve does eventually wake up, trudging downstairs with one eye open and asking why Long Island Iced Tea’s even exist, Eddie’s ready with the necessities– a black iced coffee, two sausage, egg, and cheese sandwiches delivered to their doorstep, and a Gatorade for himself.

“You’re the fucking best, you know that?” Steve smiles through the pounding headache as he sips his coffee and tears into the sandwich.

“Eh, I try,” Eddie grins with a mouthful of egg and leans over to bump their shoulders together.

Comfortable quiet drapes over them like the blanket from last night still over the back of the couch, and like the jeans hanging off the recliner– little reminders of the night before and of the domesticity of the life they’ve built together.

Once Steve finishes his sandwich, their cat, Florence, hops up on the table and starts batting at the rolled up wrappers.

“Think she wants to play,” Steve grumbles, sliding off the couch and laying on the carpet. “Listen, Florence, you know I love you but kid, I cannot play right now. I’m barely alive.”

Eddie doubles over and nearly spits Gatorade all over the coffee table. Even their terrible, hungover, washed up mornings aren't all that bad.

#steddie #steddie fic #steddie fanfic #steddie fanfiction #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve harrington x eddie munson #eddie munson x steve harrington #stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #stfic #very small buckingham reference #myblurbs #alcohol tw #this is is not at all a nearly 1:1 blurb based on me and my fiance last night and this morning #(he's steve)

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