#musician robin buckley

[wheatnoodle]

musicians!steddie au

eddie is the lead guitarist/vocals of corroded coffin still and now they’re big enough to be touring, big enough to be accused of selling their souls to the devil.

steve’s in a lil folk duo with robin. he sticks to an acoustic and singing about all the woes of small town midwestern life, she plays a banjo?!?! a harmonica?? tambourine?!!! everything else basically.

they somehow end up playing different stages at the same festival and gareth is groaning about how boring and whiny they sound. jeff and grant just kinda chuckle along and stay out of it (ofc they’ll defend themselves if they had to face down with the pair). but eddie?

eddie caught one glimpse of beat up nikes and overalls and hair shining golden in the sun and he’s so cute it drives him insane.

cue far away pining and sneaking backstage and into trailers and secret relationships hidden from the world and from band mates

[inthedarknessofnight]

Thinking about struggling musician Eddie who makes a living singing and playing guitar in a Metallica tribute band.

Thinking about bartender Steve who thinks tribute bands are the cringiest, most insufferable things to ever exist.

Thinking about Robin, his coworker, who made a bet on the very first day of their new job that Steve would eventually hook up with someone from a tribute band.

And the thing is, he almost makes it. Three years and he’s got a completely clean track record. Well, at least until the night some random Metallica cover band’s frontman has Steve questioning his sanity from the moment he sets foot on stage. Because Steve is mesmerized. By the way his lithe figure moves under the bright stage lights. By the way his fingers slide deftly along the neck of his guitar. By the way his voice permeates the room, filling the air to the point where Steve thinks he must be breathing the music into his lungs. And then, the motherfucker has the audacity to take off shirt his mid-performance, putting on display a well-curated collection of tattoos. Steve feels like an ancient deity has descended from the heavens and decided to play fucking Metallica, on a fucking Tuesday, in the shittiest fucking bar in all of Inianapolis. Well and truly distracted by the action on stage, Steve doesn’t register the glass slipping slowly out of his grasp, until the damn thing has hit the floor and broken into a thousand pieces. When he turns to examine the mess, Robin is already there, broom in hand.

“You might wanna think about closing that mouth, dingus. I don’t think you drooling all over this pristine countertop is good for business,” she says with barely contained laughter, quickly sweeping the shards into the dustpan.

“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up,” he retorts, rolling his eyes, suddenly very aware of just how much he was staring. Instinctively, Steve shakes his hand to drive away the haze, grabs a new glass, and tries his best to focus on the task at hand.

It isn’t until the final number of the evening that Steve’s resolve truly crumbles. He’s all but managed to tune out the goings-on around him, which is why he nearly has a heart attack when he suddenly finds himself face to face with the beam coming straight from the main spotlight.

“Can we- Yes. Perfect. There he is,” says a low voice coming from the very center of the stage, followed by a cacophony of loud cheers.

And… Oh no.

“What the-,” he mutters, a hand flying up to shield his eyes from the blinding light. That’s when he sees him.

“Hey, pretty boy behind the bar. Get me some whiskey up here on this stage, will you?”

And Steve is so so so incredibly fucked.

He stares dumbly for a few seconds. Having seemingly lost any and all ability to think independently, Steve brain shifts into autopilot, causing him to grab the full bottle of Jack sitting on the shelf behind him, stroll towards the stage as if possessed, accompanied by the sound of cheering, which only grows louder with every step he takes. He climbs the steps leading onto the stage. As soon as he reaches the top, he finds himself face to face with…

He’s so close. For a brief moment, Steve wonders if he knew prior to this moment that a person can be this beautiful. They’re chest to chest. The guy is ducking his head to whisper something to Steve, his breath hitting the sensitive spot just below the ear as he does so.

“Thanks, sweetheart,” he says, his like voice smoke, and milk, and honey, and all things Steve wants to breathe in, and drink, and savor. He plucks the bottle from Steve’s hand, ringed fingers grazing his.

He winks at Steve as he takes a few steps backwards, a devilish smile playing on his lips. Then, without breaking eye contact, he tips his head back, opens his mouth, and begins pouring the amber liquid until it spills over he edges, running down his neck and the length of his torso. After what feels like hours to Steve, the guy finally swallows the remnants of the drinking in his mouth, immediately leveling Steve with a dark gaze.

“Now you.”

Positively transfixed, Steve realizes a little too late that he has, in fact, missed his window to flee, and is headed head-first for whatever public humiliation the guy has in store for him. A strong, sure hand grips the back of his neck, long fingers tangling into the hair at the nape, tugging ever so slightly.

“Open.”

It’s not gentle. It’s a thing of lust. A command. Steve feels it in his bones. And he can’t look away. His body is not his own when he gives into the pull of the musician’s hand, his jaw going lax, mouth automatically falling open. The guy brings the bottle up to Steve’s mouth, pouring in a generous amount. Before Steve even gets the chance to swallow the liquid already burning its way down his throat, the bottle is being shoved rougly into his hand, the guy bringing his other hand up once again, only to press the palm under Steve’s chin, forcing his mouth closed. Forcing him to swallow. Steve nearly chokes.

“Good boy,” he says with a wicked grin, before pushing a spluttering, coughing Steve back in the direction of the stairs, causing him to nearly topple off the stage. The guy laughs maniacally into his microphone and the crowd goes wild, the drummer already counting them into the final song.

Still bewildered and absolutely dumbfounded by whatever just happened to him on that stage, Steve chances one last glance in the singer’s direction as he descends the stairs.

This time, however, he isn’t met with a sultry, dark look, or one of the guy’s infamous mischievous grins. Instead, he finds a pair of soft brown eyes staring back at him, and plush pink lips curved into the dopiest, most endearing smile Steve has ever seen.

…

By the end of the night, Steve has found the love of his life and Robin is collecting money from nearly every employee at the bar, sporting a smug, I-told-you-so expression on her face.

[kitchen-spoon]

Steddie bridgerton au but make it ABO:

You could have Steve as an alpha being swarmed by mothers trying to set him up with their eligible omega’s. But Steve had sworn off relationships after what happened between him and Nancy.

And Omega Eddie who doesn’t believe he will ever be married off so he pretends not to care. But deep down he wants to be loved. He also feels indebted to his uncle Wayne who took him in and knows that if he isn’t married Wayne will be stuck with him forever.

OR you could switch it around.

Omega Steve who’s rich parents give him no say and are using him as a bargaining chip. They want to Marry him off to whoever will make their family the most powerful. This means gross old men courting Steve who wants nothing more than real true love.

Alpha Eddie who is a recluse, he fled when he was of age for the marriage season, never debuted his way into society. But he comes back after his parents passing to live with his uncle Wayne. He has come into a large fortune which is the only reason he has any prospects. But Eddie hears the whispers about him and knows what the ton truly thinks of him.

[discocandles]

Anytime I think about Steve, Eddie, Chrissy or Robin as famous musicians, I have to hold myself back from adding a shit ton of Lady Gaga references.

Like in the 2010s Lady Gaga appeared for an mtv music award show as this rugged, unkept greaser type character she made up named jo calderone. He's kinda known as "Lady Gaga's boyfriend that is also lady Gaga in drag". Steve Harrington, teen popstar trying to get away from his overbearing label would show up to the red carpet in drag as Amanda Miller, the girlfriend his label chose for him. She is dressed how they have their other popstar darling, Chrissy Cunningham dress. Amanda Miller later shows up in one of his music videos after he leaves the label. Both appearances of Amanda Miller cause mass bi panic online.

Speaking of fellow teen popstar Chrissy Cunningham, she starts openly thanking God and the Gays for the successes in her career. The label hates it, but they deal or else she's not gonna thank God either, causing problems with her religious fanbase(the impact of only letting her make ultra clean love songs for years). Also the idea of Chrissy disrespecting the interviewers who disrespect her is so healing. Think about it. Like yeah she ate that guy's script, and she'd do it again if he asks about her diet.

For rockstar eddie? So in Lady Gaga's song government hooker there's a spoken bit(not the jfk line the "back up and turn around" one). Those lines are spoken by Gaga's bodyguard Pete, who has a very thick Dutch accent after Lady gaga suddenly brought the idea that he be the "pervy robot voice" up during production.

Like Eddie would so do this, as I think creating songs gives him a lot of almost maniacal energy. Also for this one, the bodyguard is Italian Steve, but he's Jeff's bodyguard who Eddie's been constantly flirting with. That's perfectly fine by Eddie's actual bodyguard, who needs "a damn second to fucking breathe, you hyperactive bastard".

Indie rock vocalist Robin Buckley would have an album where she sings in like four different languages outside of English like lady Gaga did in born this way. And also sing in other languages fairly often. It's most often in French(like lady Gaga does), but every time Robin starts singing in a language that isn't English, the fans will scramble to figure out what tongue she's singing/speaking in now and what is she saying? What does google translate say she's saying?

There's paparazzi photos of vocalist Robin standing next to Jeff from Corroded Coffin but she's chatting in Italian with... his body guard? Apparently they met as teenagers on a trip abroad and became best friends then pen pals after. But we guess it evens out as robin's makeup artist/one woman glam team was best friends with Eddie in high school? And she won the prom queen tiara that CC wears in their iconic album cover. I dunno, just something that's been haunting my brain.

[blaqcats-fics]

(He’s) Just a Phase — Part 0

Part 1

It was 1989 when they broke up.

It was quiet. It was quick. It was devastating.

Most of all, Steve knew it was all because of him. If it had been another timeline with drastically different events, Steve was sure that his apartment wouldn’t feel so cold, so empty. In another life, Steve wouldn’t have made the same mistakes, and Steve would be in an apartment that actually felt like home.

That was not a wish that Steve could dream of anymore.

Steve was stuck in an apartment that felt too much like his parents’ house in Hawkins. Nothing in the apartment was his. The apartment held no memories or no warmth. Besides the furniture, one wouldn’t believe that anyone lived there. The apartment was clean — too clean. Cleaning meant that there wouldn’t be a reminder that there used to be something, or rather someone, that caused his heart to beat out of his chest or that caused him to feel safe.

Cleaning merely helped on the surface because underneath it all, Steve knew the truth.

Eddie was gone all because Steve hadn’t been ready.

Steve, now, wasn’t sure he would ever be ready. Even if the breakup left a giant black hole in his chest, the terrifying reality of being out scared the living shit out of him, but despite the terror that courses through his veins at the thought of telling someone, Steve hadn’t been strong enough to tell those closest to them or be proud of their relationship in safe places.

There were things Steve could blame for his hesitation. He surely could blame his parents, specifically his father, but it didn't matter. Steve made Eddie a victim of his insecurities. It didn't matter how patient Eddie had been; Steve would never have been ready for what Eddie wanted.

It wasn't until October of 1993, four years after Eddie left his life, that Steve did an unspeakable act, at least in the eyes of the Party.

Steve signed on to his walkie-talkie, newly bought months prior when his old one started to fall apart, and said his goodbyes. Not forever, but for now.

Robin had tried to show up at his apartment but was met with the sight of the landlord giving a tour of an empty apartment with a door that had an engraving of ‘E+S’ in Eddie’s shaky handwriting.

No one knew where Steve had gone. He had fallen off the grid.

He, however, was just under their noses. It was easy to hide in plain sight when no one had actually seen you in a long time. Sure, phone calls occurred, but life had gone on, and being spread out across the country made it difficult to meet, especially when everyone was an adult working some sort of 9-to-5. At first, not seeing any more made dread curl in Steve’s gut, but now, it was a safety net.

It was best that no one recognized Steve Harrington because he was about to ruin himself to the world, all in order to show Eddie Munson that he loved him more than the universe itself, and he was going to do in the only way that Eddie would listen, and that was with a busted guitar from the thrift store and mediocre voice.

All that Steve had to worry about was how Eddie was going to hear him from the top. After all, just a year after their break up, Corroded Coffin made it big.

[ronancecore]

🎺 Rovickie posting 'cause why not 🪈

🎶 The woodwinds duo 🎶 / peanut butter (not a) couple (yet) 🥜

I doodle the 1st picture I'm not good huhu😭

[sapphicway]

Maya Hawke signing a fan’s underwear

(x) (x) (x)

[idiotcurls]

Attention!!

I have uploaded the first chapter of the Rockstar Eddie + Student Steve AU to AO3. It's called "The Fleetwood Café"

Summary: Steve's favourite place to study, is a small Café in Chicago. He likes the staff, he likes the coffee, he likes the ambiente. The only thing he doesn't like, are bands playing at the venue. They are usually noisy and Steve needs quiet. On that particular friday, he is especially cross. Why you ask? Because of Eddie Munson. When the lead singer ventures into the café area, to steal some napkins, he accindentally tips over a glass of water with his guitar case. Of course, the spilt water lands on Steve Harrington's laptop and he about mc fucking had it. He hates the guy. A coincidence, or fate for all we know, brings them back together in a different setting. Steve learns, that his preconceived notions are sometimes wrong. Eddie learns, that ex-Jocks can be nice people too.

Or, the one where Steve is studying to become a teacher, Eddie and his band are trying to get on the big stages. They meet in the worst way possible. But Steve slowly falls in love with Eddie and his musical talent and he understands, that the yearning Eddie's music evoces in him, is something he has to deal with.

[inthedarknessofnight]

I watched The Holdovers for the first time over the holidays (loved it btw), and for some reason I've also been getting flashbacks to last year when I basically devoured The Secret History and If We Were Villains back to back... And because I have this little devil on my shoulder constantly telling me to Steddie-fy everything, my brain immediately went like, ‘but what if Steve and Eddie both ended up stuck at their college campus over winter break.’ Consider this my pathetic attempt at their little forced-proximity romance story.

So, without further ado, I give you... Part 1

❄️📖❄️📖❄️📖❄️📖❄️📖❄️📖

Steve Harrington leaned out of his dorm room window, filling his lungs with the chilly air of a New Hampshire winter morning. Underneath him, the courtyard was brimming with students scurrying left and right, bags of various shapes and sizes slung over their shoulders, and even an occasional suitcase being dragged through the wet slush that covered the paved pathways, courtesy of last night’s snowstorm. Lively chatter echoed off the walls of the residence halls enclosing the courtyard, as his fellow students tried to squeeze in as many well-wishes, festive greetings, and goodbyes as they could, before their designated rides took them to whichever overpriced holiday destination their families chose this year. Steve tried his best to avoid getting too morose about it all, focusing on fumbling around his jacket pocket for a cigarette and lighter. He knew Patrick, their resident assistant, would have been on his ass before he even drew the first breath, but to everyone’s great surprise, he’d started his holiday a week early, prompting Steve and pretty much every other person in the building to take up smoking out of the window.

As soon as the first plume of smoke hit his lungs, Steve could feel the negative thoughts trickling away. He closed his eyes, tipped his head back, and exhaled, savouring the moment. Unfortunately, his moment of bliss was short-lived, as Tommy Hagan barged into his room in his usual fashion—without so much as a knock.

���Harrington! You trying to get sent home or something?” Tommy asked, an annoying smirk stretching across his face.

“Fuck you, Hagan. I’m not that stupid, okay? RA’s gone, it’s basically a free-for-all over here,” Steve replied nonchalantly and leaned out again, taking another drag of his cigarette.

“Alright, alright, we get it, Henderson Hall’s the coolest. Unless y’all burn it down,” Tommy clicked his tongue, “then, probably not so much,” he delivered what, Steve could only assume, was supposed to be the punchline. When Tommy realised Steve wasn’t going to deign that with a response, he merely scoffed and continued.

“So, hey. I thought I’d check if you’ve changed your mind about that ski trip? I know you said you wanted to stay here, catch up on whatever crap you’ve got going on with that ridiculous degree of yours, but…” Steve glanced over his shoulder just in time to see Tommy quirk an eyebrow at him suggestively. “Well, Carol stayed at that same place with her family last year, and according to her, they have a sauna and, like, a bunch of hot tubs. And, umm… Tammy will be there, if you know what I mean,” Tommy winked at him.

Steve wasn’t entirely sure what kind of reaction Tommy expected from him, especially since he’d never really had a thing for Tammy beyond them hooking up a few times during their first year of college. In fact, he had no intention of going on that trip if Phoebe Cates herself walked in and personally offered him daily blowjobs. But he couldn’t exactly look Tommy in the eye and say, ‘Funny story—I got into a fight with my dad because he’s being an asshole, and now he’s refusing to give me any more money unless I come home and talk it through with him in person’. Instead, it was easier to turn around, face Tommy, and say…

“Nah, man. Already told my parents I can’t come to Cancun with them, because I need to study or I might fail and waste three years’ worth of their precious investments in my education,” which they didn’t even approve of in the first place, Steve finished the sentence in the privacy of his own mind. “They’d probably skin me alive if they found out I blew them off just so I could run off with you guys.” At least he didn’t have to lie about that last part.

“Dude, aren’t you, like, majoring in philosophy, or some shit? I thought you guys just sit around and talk all day,” Tommy scoffed. Philosophy and drama, actually, Steve thought, but knew all too well the addition would do little to help his case, so he didn’t bother correcting him.

“Yeah, well… Apparently, you have to have at least some idea what you’re talking about before you get to ‘just sit and talk,’” Steve countered. “But, hey, for all it’s worth, I really appreciate the offer, man. You enjoy that sauna for the both of us, okay?” He threw Tommy a wink, which immediately caused him to cringe internally. Tommy, resigned to being unable to persuade him, simply shook his head and shrugged.

“I don’t get you man but, uh, suit yourself,” Tommy said after a brief moment of consideration and gave Steve a dismissive wave. “Have a good one. I’ll see you after break, Harrington,” he added before promptly turning his back to Steve and exiting the room.

With Tommy gone, Steve felt like he could finally breathe again. The feeling didn’t last, though. A cold breeze blew through the open window, bringing with it a familiar feeling of loneliness that always settled deep inside his bones. Steve knew all too well the feeling had nothing to do with a little movement of air. Because it felt more like an old wound reopening. Because maybe it’s always been here, Steve admitted quietly. Etched into his skin. Blended into his marrow. Flowing through him like blood through his veins. It was the kind of cold he couldn’t just close a window on, no matter how hard he tried. Instead, he opted to close the one in front of him, making sure to stub out the cigarette he’d left burning on the windowsill before lowering the window pane and twisting the handle. He leaned his forearms on the inner ledge and rested his forehead against the cool glass. It was only a few weeks. He could do this. After all, he was used to empty rooms and haunted halls—these just happened to be slightly bigger empty rooms and haunted halls. Right?

—

Steve Harrington had never been more wrong. By the time day three of his self-imposed exile rolled around, he was fairly certain he was losing his mind. The worst thing was, he couldn’t do anything about it.

The first weekend passed with little fanfare, the campus growing quieter with each passing day. From Monday morning onwards, the whole thing was practically haunted. In fact, Steve was the only occupant left in Henderson Hall, barring some guy in the room down the hall from him. Steve didn’t really know him, but he was pretty sure he was a Music major—a suspicion the asshole happily confirmed by treating the seemingly empty dorm to a full-on concert in the middle of the night. When Steve ran into him in the dorm’s communal kitchen the following morning, the guy looked startled by his presence at first, then simply offered Steve an apologetic smile and mumbled something under his breath before darting out. Great, Steve thought to himself and slumped against and empty chair at the dining table. He was already well on the way to going batshit crazy, and now, his only company was the dorm’s resident weirdo. To be fair, there were at least two other people on campus that he was presently aware of, down the road in Mayfield Hall: a girl from the languages department he knew from Mrs. Click’s first-year rhetoric class, but wasn’t exactly on speaking terms with, and a girl he was pretty sure was in the Dance program, since they’d attended a movement class together the previous year. He’d noticed the former while out on one of his regular morning runs, catching sight of her just as she slipped on a particularly nasty patch of the frozen path, landing gracelessly on her backside. He went off course to help her and make sure she was okay, but she merely levelled him with a deadly stare. That was all the encouragement Steve needed to get the hell out of there.

With no company to save him from boredom and distract him from the gnawing sense of loneliness, Steve kept busy as best as he could. He even came to consider the dining hall being closed for the holidays a small mercy, as he occupied himself with planning his meals and taking the time to prepare them. On Tuesday, he made the short, fifteen-minute drive to the nearest town and bought a week’s worth of groceries, in case the weather prevented him from being able to make that trip again in the coming days. Steve was happy to find the fridge in the communal kitchen nice and empty for once—well, except for a frankly impressive supply of beer, which he could only assume belonged to the other remaining resident. 

Speaking of the rather unusual fellow—they’d started to develop a sort of quiet camaraderie, the two of them. They would usually bump into each other at lunchtime and again at dinnertime, and once Steve had been able to let go of the resentment he held towards his fellow resident, for the little nocturnal performance he put on the first night, they’d even gone as far as greeting each other.

“Hey, man,” the other guy would say, as he leisurely strolled into the kitchen, normally around noon, rubbing sleep from his eyes.

“Hi,” Steve would reply, giving a quick nod and small smile.

And that’s essentially how the entire first week of winter break went by. Slowly, Steve began to find comfort in the little routine they’d established. In a way, it soothed the ache inside him, to know that, without fail, his weird neighbour would always wake up way too late and meet him in the kitchen at mealtime to exchange a greeting or two. The guy had even taken to hovering there while Steve finished whatever dish he was making that day, and Steve was surprised at how quickly he became used to his quiet company (and Steve was applying this term liberally, by the way, since the guy clearly found it impossible to move around without making an array of random sounds). But despite how strange he was, Steve found his presence oddly calming, if not comforting. It also gave Steve a little insight into his habits, which were no less strange than the man himself. Over time, Steve noticed the guy seemingly lived on nothing but Cheerios, beer, and the occasional microwave meal. It made Steve wonder how the hell he was still alive—or how he managed to keep such a slender physique. Not that he’d been paying much attention to said physique, of course. Steve guessed he was just one of those people who lucked out with their metabolism. Still, he couldn’t help but feel the man’s curious gaze on him every time he saw Steve crafting his next meal. It even got to the point where Steve was half-convinced he could hear the guy sniffing the air as soon as he walked into the kitchen at mealtime, but whenever Steve glanced over his shoulder to check for proof, the other man immediately corrected himself, pretending to be occupied with with trivial tasks, like pouring more milk into his already full bowl of cereal. 

Steve found it sort of endearing—and, if he was being totally honest, it filled him with a sense of pride, to see another person react to his cooking that way. He loved cooking. Hell, he loved cooking for other people even more than he did himself, even if that opportunity rarely presented itself. True, he’d gained his cooking skills mainly out of necessity, having to take care of himself from a young age, but he knew not everyone grew up with a fully stocked pantry and the same resources and tools he had at his disposal. Who was he to assume that hadn’t been the case for his mysterious roomie? At the end of the day, even if he turned out to be too lazy to cook, it wouldn’t kill Steve to toss a double portion of spaghetti into the water and add a bit more tomato purée to his sauce—it would still be the most nutritious meal the guy’s had in days. If nothing else, you’ll gain a new friend and maybe you won’t have to do this alone, his brain supplied. Steve pushed the thought to the back of his mind. 

Emboldened by his newfound purpose, Steve put down the book he’d been trying to get through for the past week and made it for the kitchen. If he was lucky, he still had about two hours before his neighbour got up, which should give Steve enough time to have the sauce ready by the time the guy walked into the kitchen. At 12.30 pm, like clockwork, a familiar mop of curly hair peeked through kitchen door.

“Hey, man,” the guy said, his voice still groggy. Steve smiled to himself. He was nothing if not consistent. Not wanting to spook him by being too forthcoming, Steve stirred the sauce a few more times, then turned to face the guy fully and opted for one of his warmer smiles, as he said, “Hi.”

In his sleep-addled state, he didn’t seem to suspect that anything was out of the ordinary. Steve watched him go through his usual routine of dumping a bunch of cereal into a bowl and retrieving the milk from the fridge. He sat down at the opposite side of the dining table, facing Steve, and moved to pour the milk over his cereal. Steve couldn’t, in good conscience, let him ruin a perfectly good bowl of cereal if he decided to accept his offer (he was decidedly not getting ahead of himself just there), so he figured now was as good a time as any to speak up.

“You do realise you can’t keep eating cereal every day for the next three weeks, right?” Steve said, making sure to keep his tone light and playful. The last thing he wanted was for the guy to think he was judging his eating habits. He set the timer for the spaghetti, then leaned against the counter next to the stove and crossed his arms. Across from him, the poor guy seemed to have stopped dead in his tracks, still holding his milk at an angle. Confusion was clearly written all over his face, as he grappled with the fact that Steve had just addressed him directly. He looked up at Steve from beneath his messy fringe, big brown eyes slowly traveling upward until they were level with Steve’s, unsure whether he was allowed to look or not. It crossed Steve’s mind that he looked every bit like a frightened young deer, and he had to mentally stop himself from letting out a laugh.

“Umm… sorry?” His eyes darted confusedly between Steve and the offending bowl of cereal in front of him. “I didn’t realise there were rules about this stuff,” he said, though his tone wasn’t defensive. His voice was soft and shy, almost apologetic, and Steve immediately regretted his choice of words.

“No, shit… Sorry, man, I didn’t mean it like that,” Steve chuckled, desperately trying to salvage the longest conversation he’d had in days. “It’s just that, well, I can see you obviously really enjoy those,” he quickly motioned to the box of Cheerios on the table, “and, I mean, not to yuck your yum, but they really don’t make for the most nutritious meal. Wouldn’t want the rest of this dorm to come back to the smell of a rotting corpse because you, like, dropped dead of malnutrition or something, you know?” Oh god, what was he even saying?! Nice, Harrington, real nice. Idiot.

Too busy chastising himself for the word vomit he’d just unleashed on this random dude, Steve registered somewhat belatedly that the guy was now laughing, his shoulders shaking with mirth. Steve couldn’t help the expression of pleasant surprise creeping onto his face, as he watched the other man come down from his fit of laugher. He was now beaming at Steve, and Steve couldn’t help but notice how he had one of those smiles that light up a person’s entire face.

“Well, it does sound kind of grim when you put it like that, but what can I say?” He plucked a single Cheerio from the bowl and held it up close to his face, as if to examine it. “What you sacrifice on nutrition, you save on money.” Then, with a quick flick of the wrist, he tossed the Cheerio into the air, caught it in his mouth, and flashed Steve a triumphant grin. Steve chuckled, giving him a quick round of applause, to which the guy responded with an exaggerated bow. And if Steve found himself somewhat surprised at how quickly he was warming up to his new roommate, nobody needed to know.

Despite the cheerful nature of the encounter so far, Steve couldn’t help but feel a little guilty after hearing the guy explain his peculiar diet. Here he was with half the grocery store at his disposal, while, across from him, sat a guy forced to live on the same kind of cereal, meal after meal, for the sake of being frugal. He could imagine how difficult it must be to feed yourself on a budget when you don’t have the knowledge or skills to cook in the first place. The sound of his timer jolted Steve out of his thoughts, and he turned back to the stove to check if the spaghetti were cooked. He manoeuvred a single piece of pasta out of the water, blew on it a couple of times, grabbed it with his thumb and index finger, then tipped his head back and lowered it into his open mouth, blissfully unaware of a pair of brown eyes trying their best to look at anything other than Steve. After giving them a few more stirs, he strained the spaghetti in the kitchen sink, then paused for a moment, pretending to deliberate, the guy’s gaze still fixed on him. Before he could overthink it, he turned to face him again.

“Listen, you can totally say no if you want, but I think just made way too much spaghetti for one person. Would you like some?” He heard the guy take a breath, preparing to say something, then remembered. “Oh, and I have this sauce too, by the way,” he quickly added, taking the pot with the sauce off the stove and bringing it towards the other man. Steve tipped the pot slightly, trying to show him what’s inside, nearly causing a bulk of it to spill over the edge. He then realised the contents in the pot were essentially liquid and he probably shouldn’t have been doing that, which prompted him to a curse under his breath and carefully set the pot back on the stove. The guy, clearly amused by the whole display, just giggled and Steve had to take that as a win, even if he ended up rejecting his offer of a warm meal. To his credit, the guy seemed to weigh the idea carefully for a moment. All of a sudden, it looked like something clicked in his brain, and he offered Steve a lopsided smile.

“Well, then, if there really is sauce involved, I don’t see how I could possibly refuse.”

It took Steve a little while to register that he was, in fact, not being rejected, but as soon as he did, he couldn't help the way his face lit up, not caring anymore if he came across as overeager. He snapped his fingers and made finger guns at the guy, clearly high on some kind of playful energy the exchange had incited in him.

“Alrighty then,” he said cheerfully, turning to plate their meal, trying his best to ignore the warmth spreading through his chest as he looked down at the result. Two plates.

Steve carried both plates and some cutlery to the table, setting one plate in front of his guest, who followed the motion with fervent fixation. He thought the guy might actually start drooling if he didn’t get to dig into his meal soon. As Steve plopped into the chair across from him, though, he was struck with the realisation that they were about to have their first meal together, yet didn’t even know each other’s names. He cleared his throat and extended his hand towards the stranger.

“Oh, sorry—I'm Steve, by the way. Steve Harrington.”

His companion broke out of his daze, beaming fondly at Steve as he firmly grasped the offered hand.

“Nice to meet you, Steve. Steve Harrington. I’m Eddie. Eddie Munson.”

❄️📖❄️📖❄️📖❄️📖❄️📖❄️📖

Thanks for reading! Hope you liked it ☺️ Just fyi, I don't have this whole thing written yet, so I'll be posting it in parts here, on Tumblr, until I do, and then once it's been edited a bit and given a title, I'll probably put it up on ao3 as a longer oneshot. I'll make sure to reblog with the first part every time I post a new one, and I'll also link all the previous parts, so don't worry! It's gonna be so so cute and I'm so excited to share this story with you guys. Check in to see what the boys will get up to next!

[crljhnn]

Maybe It's Enough

Pairing: Robin Buckley x fem!Reader

Summary: Robin thinks you don't like her back, so she encourages Steve to take you out on a date. You think Robin doesn't like you back, so you agree to let Steve take you out on a date.

No use of y/n; lesbian reader

Word count: 4.8k

Warnings: slight hints of / implied homophobia

[also posted on AO3]

The first time you actively realized that you were different was when you were 12.

You were lying on your bedroom floor, surrounded by your friends, looking through a magazine targeted towards young teenage girls.

You vividly remember your friends going on and on, gushing about the male actors and musicians featured in the newest edition, who were striking suggestive poses while smirking directly at the camera. You, on the other hand, only felt weak in the knees if the article displayed their girlfriends or female co-stars as well.

You grew up pretty sheltered, so it wasn't until a few nights later that you found out that women who were attracted to other women existed.

You were sneaking down the stairs to get yourself a bottle of water when you overheard your mother gossiping on the phone about a church friend's daughter, who was spending an awful amount of time with that new girl, Susan. Apparently, there have been rumors that she has been bringing shame upon her family and disgracing the church for quite a while.

Hearing the disgust in your mother's voice awoke a discomfort within you about your own emotions. You found yourself going back and forth between entertaining your suspicions and reassuring yourself that you simply hadn't met the right guy yet (that's at least what your older sister told you when you confided in her).

This maybe, maybe not spiel ended when you met Robin in your shared math class during your freshman year. She was somewhat angsty and awkward, and you were instantly in love. You didn't manage to muster up the courage to speak to her during that school year, though.

In your sophomore year, you were almost sure that Robin was gay. You caught her looking dreamingly at a little too many female classmates, a little too often. Also, from what you heard, she never had a boyfriend or openly expressed interest in any of the boys.

At the end of junior year, you were almost certain that Robin was into you. The staring was now reserved solely for you, and she constantly sat close, but never directly next to you. She also always started that cute nervous ramble when you tried to talk to her, and then always found a way to prematurely end the conversation.

"Sorry, I think I left my water bottle in the cafeteria. Bye!"

When you found out that Robin started working at Scoobs, you were tempted to go and visit her; this way, she was forced to talk to you. You nearly chickened out in the parking lot and had to hype yourself up for nearly half an hour just to be met with Steve "the Hair" Harrington when you got up to the counter.

You took that as a sign not to show up at Scoops again. Plus, now that you thought about it, what were you even supposed to talk about? The ice cream flavor?

That's why you were thankful when she started at the local video store. Movies were definitely something you could talk about for hours.

It wasn't as easy as you thought, though. Every time you came by, she was either busy organizing a section on the complete opposite end of the store or she was in the back. When you tried talking to her, she would always redirect you to Steve.

"I'm kind of busy right now, but I'm sure Steve can help you with whatever movie you are looking for. He is right over there."

Always rushed and always without looking at you.

Maybe you were wrong. Maybe Robin actually despised you, and you completely misinterpreted her behavior. She probably thought you were some kind of stalker, keen on disrupting her at work.

---

"I swear she likes you, dingus! She is here all the time." Robin has been trying to convince Steve that you were head over heels in love with him for the last 10 minutes.

He was exasperated, standing in his typical mom stance with one hand on his hip. "She does not! Family Video is like the only video store anywhere close; that's why she comes here a lot."

"Well, she came to Scoops as well, when we were still working there!"

Steve probably doesn't even remember you showing up at their old job, but Robin does. She remembers how pretty you looked, how your outfit complimented your figure, and how your hair perfectly framed your face. She remembers it being a lot more nerve-racking than seeing you in school. This was a new environment, a whole new situation. She couldn't look at you from a desk behind you, hiding behind a book, if you decided to glance in her direction.

Before she was able to properly think about it, she had already headed to the back, the door slamming shut behind her.

"Wow, now I can't deny it anymore! It's not like half of Hawkins has been there at least once, and by your logic, she could be into you as well."

Robin wishes, with every cell in her body, that even the slightest glimmer of truth could lie in this statement. But it's not true. It couldn't be. And she has to remind herself of that. That way, it won't hurt as much when you end up with Steve or some other boy.

"Then why does she only ever talk to you, huh?"

"Because you run to the back as soon as she gets anywhere close to you!"

"And I'm doing both of you a favor. She comes here to talk to you and then gets too nervous to actually pull through with it. That's why she comes up to me."

"I think you are overthinking it."

And Robin definitely is, but at this point, she had already talked herself way too far into it.

"Trust me. I'm a girl. I should know stuff like that better than you."

"Yeah, 'cause you know so well what it's like to crush on a guy?"

"No, but I know what it's like to be a girl with a crush. Just ask her out."

Please don't.

"You sure?"

No

"Yes."

So that's exactly what Steve did.

---

The next time you visit the store, he makes sure to put on his especially charming smile, being right by your side as soon as you enter. He goes the full nine yards. Compliments your eyes, your outfit, carries the movies you picked out to the counter. After he finishes the process of checking them out, he is ready to make his final move. With whatever he has left of the famous Harrington charm, he asks you if you'd like to go out with him this weekend.

"Oh, I don't know. I'm really busy, you know, with school and everything. Sorry."

Rejection.

Steve only takes a second to recover. Even though Robin was sure of your attraction to him, he was still kind of expecting this. Regardless, Steve feels the urge to explain himself.

"No, it's totally fine. Really! I honestly wouldn't even have assumed that you were into me, but Robin was really insistent, so I thought I'd try my luck. No hard feelings."

"Robin told you to ask me out?"

"Yeah, why?"

That was the final nail in the coffin. Of course, she didn't like you. Why else would she try to set you up with her best friend? All the "signs" you saw were probably spun up by your imagination, caused by wishful thinking. Your own feelings must have clouded your judgment. You're embarrassed and sad. Maybe it is stupid and naive to expect to find a girl in a small town like Hawkins who is not only your type and assumably gay but also likes you back.

Maybe you should go on a date with Steve.

He really seemed like a changed man. He was unarguably attractive, even you could admit that. He was kind and, most importantly, interested in you. Maybe that's enough.

Maybe you were also a tiny bit driven by selfishness. Maybe you wanted to make yourself feel a bit better about receiving the confirmation that the girl you had been pining for for years simply wasn't into you.

For a moment, you felt bad for Steve. It would be unfair to lead him on like that, but let's be honest. From what you heard, that guy goes on three dates a week. How likely is it that he would go into this date with the expectation of finding his one true love?

"Oh, no, that's not what I meant. I would actually really like to go out with you. I really am busy, you know, with all the exams coming up."

Lies, there was nothing to study for the next two weeks. The only plan you currently had for this weekend was to cry over Robin.

"But I am free the weekend after, if that works for you?" You played that off nicely, right?

It seemed like you did because Steve's face lit up.

„Great, if you give me your number, I could just call you to talk about the specifics.“

„Yeah sure.“

While you focus on writing down your number on the piece of paper Steve slips you, he turns around to give Robin a thumbs up. Even though she tried to look just as happy as he did, anyone paying even a little attention could have seen that she was not okay. Her face scrunched up in a painful smile. Fortunately for her, Steve was way too distracted by the euphoric feeling of scoring a date to recognize his best friend's torment.

---

"You know, I was skeptical at first because I never felt that romantic vibe with her. She never seemed interested in me in that way. But now I'm so happy I asked her out. Like, she's so effortlessly beautiful and funny, and she is also really smart, you know?"

Yeah, Robin knows. She knew all this about you better than anyone else. Steve didn't even know yet how beautiful, funny, and smart you really are. But Robin had no doubt he was going to find out soon.

And she was going to die.

Okay, maybe that's a bit dramatic, but it will definitely feel like it.

"I could even imagine her being, like, the one, you know. I think what I've been doing wrong is going on dates with women I don't even know or with women who only know me from my "King Steve" days. They all have these weird expectations about how I'm supposed to act. But I got to know her over the last few months. And I know I'm actually able to hold a conversation with her, one that's not about high school."

Robin feels like she is going to throw up. Steve acted like he always did when he was interested in a girl: idealizing her and already imagining their house with a white-picked fence and their six little nuggets. She knew she would get over it eventually, even if you actually ended up together, but your first real crush will always hold a special place, especially your first lesbian crush. And Steve just couldn't shut up.

"Do you have an idea where I could take her? We were talking on the phone last night, and she told me to just come up with something. I really don't want to mess this up right at the beginning by picking the wrong thing."

Robin never wished to be an attractive teenage boy as much as she did at that moment. She wanted late-night phone calls with you, and she wanted the trouble of not knowing where to take you on a date.

She had also thought about going on a date with you for years, so yes, she definitely had an idea.

For a second, she considered not telling Steve to be selfish and not letting him live out the fantasy that had been keeping her company for the last two years. This urge, however, was overpowered by her need to make you happy. That's what she wanted most—for you to be happy and have a good time. So she told Steve all about your favorite music genre and to watch out for any small bands giving concerts somewhat close.

---

Meanwhile, you were still grieving this whole Robin disaster. How the hell did your regular visits to the video store, intending to talk to Robin, score you a date with her best friend?

Yet, you found yourself genuinely looking forward to your plans with Steve. His idea of driving a few towns over where a small band you never heard of, though the flyer suggested that the music would fit your taste to a T, was giving one of their first concerts, which was actually the most fun date you could imagine.

Even if you didn't like him romantically, you would still have a good time. And you thought it was admirable that he would plan something that fits your taste so well. Now that you think about it, you don't remember ever discussing your music taste or your fable for small underground bands with him. You don't know how he knew; perhaps you mentioned it casually, or maybe it was just a lucky guess.

---

Steve turns up at 5 p.m. sharp. He is standing in front of your door, with a bouquet of flowers, in an outfit you know he will stand out in at the rather shady bar the band is playing at.

The one-hour-long drive ends up being surprisingly entertaining, and for the first time in your life, you kind of wish to be straight. You often wished to not be gay, to "be normal," or to fit in, but never before did you specifically wish to be into men. But right now, you do. Because Steve is kind and charming and attentive and funny while also being insanely attractive, and you just wish you could fall for him. Because you know that would be the easiest thing to do if you were into men.

But you are not.

And now you are driving back home, and you are sitting next to Steve in his car while he rants about how positively surprised he was by the band and how they are definitely one of his favorites now, and you just feel bad. He clearly had a good time, and he hinted at his interest in you and a second date multiple times over the evening. You just know that you have to come clean.

After your sister's reaction, you never considered coming out to anyone in Hawkins again, well, except Robin, but definitely not to "King Steve." You honestly don't even know why, but somehow you really want to tell him. Perhaps you're driven by guilt; after all, you had a great time, and the thought of rejecting him with a shitty excuse feels wrong. Moreover, continuing to lead him on would be worse.

Steve turned out to be a decent guy, right? You dearly hope that you are not making a horrible, irreversible mistake by coming out to him.

"I really had a good time tonight."

"Yeah? Me too. I was thinking we could repeat this, whe-"

His enthusiasm about going out with you again made you feel sick.

"Steve"

His face falls when he detects your tone, realizing you are about to reject him.

"Oh."

"Look, I really had a great time, and you are a great guy, but I'm actually not into boys. I'm sorry."

That's it. You put your cards on the table, full vulnerability. There is no way to misunderstand what you just said.

Or so you thought.

"I understand. You want a man, someone who will be able to take care of you. Not some boy who didn't even get into college. I know my future isn't looking the best right now. I'm probably gonna be stuck working in a video store for minimum wage till I retire. But-"

"No, Steve, what? What I was trying to say was that I'm a lesbian. I like girls. I'm sorry for leading you on."

"Oh."

"Yeah, oh."

"But why did you agree to go on a date with me then?"

Did you really want to tell him the whole truth? If you told him about your crush, you have no doubt that it would reach the girl of your affection herself, and you really didn't need that. However, being so open about something you hardly ever told anyone, and him not reacting outright badly, kind of made you want to tell him about your feelings for his coworker as well. You already told him your biggest secret; what's one more?

"When you said that Robin told you to ask me out... man, this is so embarrassing to say out loud. I just kind of like her, like really like her, and her encouraging you to date me kind of made it clear that she does not feel the same. And I just thought, I don't know, the rejection kind of stung, and feeling wanted, especially by someone like you, felt kind of nice. I didn't think it would go as well as it did, considering your dating history. Sorry, was that mean? You know what I'm trying to say. But you are great, and now I feel shitty, not just for being indirectly rejected but also for using you as a distraction and ego push. I'm sorry."

You're too scared to look at Steve. Completely focused on looking anywhere but him while your brain keeps listing reasons why you are a horrible person.

At the same time, Steve's thoughts are running a thousand miles per hour. He's disappointed, sure. He likes you and, until a second ago, really hoped to build a relationship with you. Now, however, more present was the goal of setting you up with Robin. This was perfect. All her rants about never finding another gay person in Hawkins he had to listen to, and now he not only found someone who was gay, he found someone who already liked his best friend. Or you found him.

Now the question emerged: What's the best way to go about this? His first instinct was to tell you to just ask Robin out, but by doing that, he was basically outing her, so maybe not the best idea. Additionally, he didn't even know if Robin liked you back. That's it. Before he does anything, he should try to find out if your feelings are reciprocated. Or if Robin is at least interested in getting to know you romantically.

With this plan in mind, he first assures you that he has absolutely no problem with gay people, even if he is a bit clumsy at finding the right words to express it, and then drops you off at home. He is about to have a long night, planning to figure out the best way to unsuspiciously find out if Robin likes you back and how to hype you up in case she isn't sure yet.

---

The next day, he shows up at Family Video, ready to put his plan into action. Robin, however, is dreading to come in today. She doesn't know how she will last a whole day with Steve telling her how perfect the two of you are for each other and how well your date went. She just knows you two had a great time. If she hadn't been certain already, she would have reached the conclusion at the very latest when Steve basically came skipping into work, smiling with giddy excitement.

For the first three hours, Robin is surprisingly successful at dodging Steve's attempts at conversation. However, her luck runs out when he decides that both of them will have an early lunch break since it is a pretty slow day and there is really nothing to do. She can hardly say no to that, at least not without awaking suspicions. So after Steve does a quick food run and picks up some baked goods from a nearby bakery, the two sit down next to each other, each with a fresh pastry in front of them. That's when Steve sees his chance at being your hypeman.

"... and you know, I feel that's something not a lot of people do, like it's rare you find someone like that. And she is also just a great listener, like she does not only listen; she actually hears what you say. You know what I mean?"

This is hell. No, Robin bets hell is a whole lot nicer than this. It has to be. Nothing could be as awful as your best friend going on a ten-minute monologue about how perfect your crush is and what a great time they had on their date.

"So what do you think? You've known her for a while; do you think she's cool?"

"Yeah, she is. I'm glad your date went so well, and I think it's great you found someone. I'm really happy for you. So when are you going out again?"

Wait.

That is not what Steve was trying to achieve. Stop! Abort mission!

"Oh, we are not going out again."

Robin nearly chokes on her croissant. Eyes wide, coughing, she nearly spits out what she didn't manage to force down her throat.

"What do you mean you won't go out again? You literally just went on a ten-minute rant about how great she is!"

"Yeah, she is. But she's not interested in me. She already likes someone else."

Robin doesn't understand how her best friend can be so nonchalant about this. He seems absolutely unfazed, talking to her as if the reality that the most perfect girl does not like him back is the most basic fact, that he has absolutely no negative feelings about. Did he recently become extremely good at acting? There is no way he was able to hide his feelings so well.

"Steve, I am so sorr-"

"No, it's fine. Really, I'm okay. I actually wouldn't be affected at all if she started seeing this person. Like, I'd be really happy for both of them. No negative feelings on my part at all."

Okay, now he was acting weird. And why would you say yes to the date in the first place, if you already had your eyes on someone else? So she asks him about it.

"She believes her crush doesn't like her back, so she thought there was no harm in going on a date with me. But she is definitely not interested in me in the slightest!"

"Well, that's bullshit. Who wouldn't like her? I mean, she is everything! She is smart, pretty, compassionate, and talented. She is the full package. There is no way anyone would say no to her. I thin-"

Steve stops comprehending what she says after that, too occupied with his own thoughts. How could he have been so oblivious? The hiding in the back? The constant redirection to him? Her inability to speak to you? She wasn't giving you the opportunity to talk to him; she was too nervous to talk to you herself. Robin had a big fat crush on you, and it was so obvious now that he was paying attention.

Steve's ecstatic. Now all that was left to do was set you two up.

---

This was easier said than done. For a few days, he tried and tried to come up with a way to get you two together without telling either one about the other's feelings. However, this was nearly impossible with how much you two insisted on avoiding each other, each dealing with their own heartbreak, still believing their feelings weren't reciprocated.

At some point, the frustration became too overwhelming, and he reached the conclusion that he was going to have to out at least one of you to the other. His first thought is to just put you two in a room, drop the bomb, and then leave you to it. Steve decides against this, fearing you would both be too awkward to move forward from this.

He contemplates who could handle the situation better and decides that telling you is probably the right choice. Happy with the prospect of finally freeing himself of this burden, he gives you a quick call, informing you of his need for a conversation, and then makes his way over.

---

"Why did you have to tell me? Why couldn't you tell Robin? Now I have to make the move, and I'm probably gonna embarrass myself soo bad!"

After getting over the shock that Robin reciprocated your feelings (at least to Steve's suspicions), you relatively quickly became frantic, mad that he put you in a position where you had to be the one to act. Why couldn't he tell her? After all, is she his best friend? And he knows that you like her, for sure. Even though he swears to be sure about Robin's feelings as well, he never actually heard her admit it out loud.

"Don't get your panties in a twist. I have the perfect, foolproof plan."

"Ew, don't say that word."

"What? Plan?"

"Shut up. So what's your great plan?"

The relationship between you and Harrington has gotten a lot more casual and familiar since your "date." You never expected it, but you are really glad to call him a close friend now.

"Okay, listen up. You're going to come to Family Video tomorrow, bring some takeout, or better prepare some food yourself, and tell Robin you and I made plans to have lunch together."

"Wait, I thought you had the day off tomorrow?"

"I have. So you are going to be all disappointed, having prepared all that food for nothing. So you will offer to share with her instead. It's the only logical thing. You wouldn't want to waste the food."

"That's the worst plan I've ever heard. That's so lame, Steven!"

"Don't call me Steven. And it's brilliant! You will get a nice romantic date without making it look like you're doing too much."

You're still not convinced, but you don't have a better idea, so you agree.

---

"Hi, Robin!"

"Oh, hi, hello, what's up?" What the fuck? Get yourself together. "What are you doing here?" Robin has been paranoid since Steve voiced his suspicion about her feelings for you. If completely oblivious Steve could see it, could you too?

"Is Steve here? We have plans for lunch." You demonstratively hold up the two lunch boxes you brought.

You spent hours yesterday racking your brain about what to prepare. What would Robin enjoy the most? What can you cook without messing it up, especially if you're this nervous? All while you also considered what you could eat without embarrassing yourself. You don't want to sit there and have half the contents of your burger fall all over your hands. Or get food stuck between your teeth without noticing. And what could you transport over without ruining it in the process? Would the food stay warm for long enough? Or should you pick a meal that is served at room temperature? In the end, you called Steve and cooked the first thing he suggested, following his advice not to overthink it.

"Steve is not scheduled for today."

"Oh."

"That's so typical, this dingus. I'll call him; give me a minute."

"It's fine. Would you maybe like to share? My lunch break will be over till he gets here. I mean, I already cooked and brought the food. If you don't have any other plans, we could share it. Unless you don't want to. That would be fine as well. I don't-"

"I want to."

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"Alright, nice. Let me just set up."

"Oh, of course, I'll show you the break room. Follow me."

The awkwardness dies quickly. Talking to Robin with the knowledge that she likes you back makes you a lot more relaxed around her. There aren't any weird periods of silence, and you feel a warmth and connection you never felt before.

With that, you finally work up the courage to ask her out. After years of pining, you are really about to do it.

"I wanted to ask you something, and it is totally okay if you say no. I don't want to make you feel uncomfortable. If you don't want to, we can just forget that I ever asked, so-"

"Just spit it out. Rambling is my thing, and you are not allowed to steal that." Robin tries to lighten the mood and take away from your clear nervousness.

"Would you like to go out with me sometime? Like, on a date."

"But Steve said- WAIT! I am the one you like?"

"Yeah."

"Damn."

"So?"

"I would really like to go out with you."

"Really?"

"Yeah."

[blaqcats-fics]

(He's) Just a Phase — Part 2

MASTERLIST

Word Count: 3.3K

March 1989

'I can't do this anymore!'

Steve flinched at the loudness in Eddie's voice. He looked at him, taking in the frown lines on his face and how his eyes nearly glowed in anger.

He had expected this. He had been waiting for the ball to drop eventually. There had been signs over the past month that he had picked up. It was small things that Steve was sure Eddie didn't notice he was doing.

First, it was just something small. It could have always been superficial to Eddie, but to Steve, it had always been something bigger, something more. It was a habit that Eddie had always had, and Steve wasn't sure Eddie knew he had done it.

Steve worked nights most of the time, meaning his schedule was the opposite of Eddie's. It had been hard, but they had made it work. They made sure they received the same days off so that they could spend time with each other. On the long days, Eddie would leave the hall light on when he went to bed before Steve got home.

It again wasn't much, but it was something.

When Steve came home, and the light wasn't on, Steve felt his chest tighten. Something was wrong. He did something wrong. Of course, against his better judgment and not openly communicating with Eddie, Steve kept his mouth closed and moved on.

The next tell was more significant. It gave an indication that Eddie knew what he was doing. It wasn't as superficial because they made sure of it together.

Eddie scheduled his band practice on their day off -- the day they used for date night. But, in true Steve fashion, he kept his mouth shut. So it didn't matter if Steve laid in bed all day, crying to Robin, trying to figure out what he did.

The other things fell into place after that, like ducks in a row, until he ended up facing Eddie's frustration.

'I'm sorry,' Steve mumbled.

Eddie gritted his teeth. 'And what are you sorry for, Steve? Please enlighten me!'

Steve wasn't sure. 'I, uh,' he licked his lips, gaze flickering to anywhere but Eddie's face.

'You don't know!' Eddie snapped.

Steve pursed his lips shut. 'No,' he said.

'That's the problem. You're so absorbed in your own head to not even notice what you're doing!' Eddie laughed. It was a bitter sound, and Steve felt a spear stab through his heart.

'I'm not,' Steve argued weakly. 'I thought we were fine.'

'You thought wrong,' Eddie exclaimed. 'I'm miserable, Steve. I'm tired. I'm tired of waiting for you to get your head out of your ass and realize that world isn't going to eat you alive.'

'What is this about?' Steve asked, his voice rising. He needed clarification. He needed things spelled out for him. He was terrible at reading between the lines, even if he knew he should be better at it.

'It's about you not wanting to be seen with me,' Eddie snapped. 'Or you don't want anyone to know about us. You either tell people were friends or that were fucking roommates. Dustin doesn't even know we're together!'

Steve flinched. 'That's not true,' he said. 'You know I love you-'

'You don't show it very well,' Eddie cut him off.

'Don't give me that!' Steve said, frowning. 'I didn't have my whole life to figure out I was bisexual! I'm sorry that I'm not ready to come out!'

'What do you have to lose, Steve?' Eddie hissed. 'You don't have anyone who would look at you differently! Your parents couldn't give a fuck about you, and everyone else would love you no matter what! What's so fucking scary, Steve? Why is it so hard to let people close to us know?'

Steve swallowed, tears stinging his eyes. Hurt flooded his system. It was a low blow on Eddie's part, mentioning his parents. It wasn't like Eddie was wrong. His parents didn't care about him. They especially didn't care about Steve after discovering all the 'scandalous' things that Steve was involved with. 'I just, um. I'm not ready, Eddie. I don't know what else you want me to say.'

Eddie laughed, 'Fuck, I don't know. That you'll try? That you'll tell at least Dustin! It's like you are ashamed to be with me!'

He was silent.

Eddie wasn't far from the truth.

Steve was ashamed but never of Eddie. There wasn't a fiber in Steve's bones that could ever be ashamed of Eddie. Steve was only ashamed of himself. He didn't know why he was, but every time Steve looked in the mirror, he felt disgusted with himself. He felt as if God would strike him down at any given moment for just enjoying kissing a man.

Nothing had to do with Eddie. Everything just had to do with Steve.

'Not everything has to deal with you, Eddie,' Steve said, voice tense. 'Nothing I've done about hiding my sexuality has to deal with you. I'm not ready. I don't know when I'll ever be ready!'

Eddie stared at Steve, expression unchanging. 'I'm not going to wait anymore.'

Steve felt his stomach drop. 'What does that mean?'

'It means what it means. I'm not going to sit here unhappy. I can't keep waiting for you to be ready,' Eddie said.

'Are you breaking up with me?' Steve asked, his voice shaking.

'I guess I am,' Eddie said.

'But,' Steve began, stumbling over the singular word.

Eddie shook his head. 'It's done. We're done.'

Steve bit his lip and nodded. He looked down at his lap, unmoving. What would he do, promise to try to get him to stay? He wanted to beg him to stay, but Steve knew he shouldn't. Not when any promises he made wouldn't be kept.

'Fucking hell, you have nothing to say, do you?' Eddie shook his head. 'I'm leaving. I'll be back this weekend to get my shit.'

Steve could only watch him walk out of the door.

He didn't move from the spot and wasn't sure how long he had sat there, staring blankly at the don't, trying to understand what had happened.

This wasn't like Nancy.

It was worse.

Because before, Steve had felt something — rage, disappointment, sadness. Right now, at this moment, felt hollow, as if a part of him had been removed.

It was when Eddie was actually gone that Steve called Robin. She moved to Dallas after graduation, and Steve only saw her two weeks out of the year. But, she had stayed Steve’s rock, and Steve in return her’s.

The dial tone echoed in his ear as he leaned against the doorway, staring into his bedroom. Besides the trillion tiny holes left over by the thumbtacks holding Eddie’s countless posters, the walls were empty. The bed had only two pillows, both plaid and ugly, a reminder that Eddie had been the one to hoard an enormous amount of pillows — a reminder that Steve’s favorite pillow had belonged to Eddie.

‘Buckley speaking,’ Robin’s voice filled the silence.

Steve’s lips twitched. ‘Hey, Birdie,’ he greeted.

‘Dingus!’ she cheered. ‘I was wondering when you were going to call.’

Steve pursed his lips, 'Yeah, sorry. It's been a rough week.'

‘Eddie picking up shifts again?’ she asked.

‘Uh, um,’ Steve rubbed his lips together, fighting the tears and tightness in his chest. ‘No,’ he managed to gasp out.

Robin was silent momentarily before her soft voice echoed on the receiver. ‘Stevie, what’s wrong?’

Steve found himself unwinding at the seams at the simple question, a loud, ugly sob choking out of him. ‘He’s gone, Robin. He left!’ he cried, the words rushed out and barely audible.

‘What? What do you mean he left?’ Robin exclaimed loudly in the line.

'We broke up,' Steve cried, his chest heaving as he cried harder. 'I fucked up, Robbie. It's all my fault he's gone!'

'Steve, honey, I need you to try and breathe for me. Focus on something and take a few deep breaths for me. I can't understand you writing now,' Robin instructed on the phone.

He did as she said. He focused on the black alarm clock on his bedside table, staring at the red glowing numbers. He took a deep breath, hiccupping as he breathed out. He did that for a few minutes.

'Better?' Robin asked.

'Mhm,' Steve vocalized. 'Sorry.'

'Babe, don't apologize,' she said. 'Now what happened?'

Steve closed his eyes, gripping the phone cord and using the wire to ground him. 'Eddie and I broke up a few days ago, maybe almost a week ago. Well, he broke up with me,' he mumbled, voice shaky.

'I thought you were good; you guys were happy,' Robin said.

Steve laughed, his voice bitter, 'Yeah, me too. Apparently not.'

'Do you know if he told you why?'

'I fucked up,' Steve said simply, thinking over the words that Eddie told him just a week ago. 'I didn't want to tell anyone we're together because I'm not ready. I've been pulling away, I guess. I don't know. He's upset that I don't want the relationship because I don't want people to know.'

Robin was quiet, 'Do, or well, did you want people to know?'

'Of course, I do, Birdie,' he said, choking on her nickname. 'I would scream that I love him from the top of a mountain for the whole world to hear, but I just-'

'You aren't ready yet,' Robin said.

'I'm not ready.'

Robin let out a soft sigh. ‘Do you need me to fly to Indianapolis?’ she asked.

Steve immediately shot her down, 'You have classes and work, Birdie. I can deal with this on my own. There's not like there's much to deal with.'

'We both know how you can get when you get lost in your head,' Robin said. 'And I'm going to be honest, I understand where Eddie's coming from. I know it's hard to hide something important from those who matter, but it's not fair to you, either. You can't rush someone to just come out. He should know that it's a terrifying feeling.'

Steve hummed. ‘I guess so,’ he mumbled. ‘I wish I could go back in time and be ready or click a fast-forward button.’

'We'll you can't,' Robin said. 'Don't overthink too much, Stevie. You two broke up, and you never know; in a month, you might end up back together.'

Steve pursed his lips. This wasn't the first time he and Eddie fought. It was different. They would take a few hours away from each other and then talk about it before the night ended. The worst fight ended with Eddie staying the night at Gareth's, but he came home, and they had sorted it out.

Eddie was gone this time. There wasn't a trace of him left in the apartment.

‘Do you think he would have stayed if I had told Dustin?’ Steve asked.

‘Maybe,’ Robin said. ‘But how long would that satisfy Eddie until he wanted more people to know?’

Steve sighed, moving to rub the wetness from his under his eyes. 'I don't know,' he whispered. 'Maybe this isn't bad,' Steve mumbled.

'What's that mean?'

'Maybe I need to work on myself. I'm not like you or Eddie. I haven't gone out much. I haven't really learned anything,' he said. He picked at the end of the Corroded Coffin shirt that he still has. It was worn and full of holes. Eddie had made it two years ago when they had moved to Indianapolis in celebration of getting a gig at a local bar. 'I haven't been open to learning new things. Maybe I should just focus on myself,' he whispered. 'Maybe I hadn't been ready for a relationship with Eddie, and I just jumped into it.'

'I think figuring yourself out would be a good thing,' Robin said. 'And don't doubt rushing into your relationship. You and Eddie would love each other, even if a chapter of your relationship ended.'

'So poetic,' Steve joked weakly.

'I'm minoring in English. I need to be,' Robin jabbed back. 'But seriously, Steve, don't do anything you're uncomfortable with. It'll be better if you find a new routine and get used to being alone. Then start broadening your horizons.'

Steve hummed, 'That'll be a start.'

'Maybe get a pet!' Robin suggested. 'You like animals.'

'To an extent,' Steve sighed.

'Oh, maybe you could call Owens,' Robin said, voice brightening. 'You still have his card, don't you?'

Steve glanced at the drawer by the fridge, 'Yeah, of course, I do. So why would I need to call Owens?'

'To, well, I don't know, actually do what he suggested you did a few years ago,' Robin said as if Steve knew what she was talking about.

'What the hell are you talking about?' Steve asked. 'You know I have the memory of a goldfish.'

'Ugh,' Robin groaned. 'You're helpless,' she said. 'Owens suggested that you start seeing a therapist for your PTSD, which I'm assuming you never did.'

Steve shook his head, 'No. Eddie did, though.'

'Either way, he also suggested you get a service animal. They help, you know. They can clock you when you're on the edge of having an attack. Or you can get one for your migraines. Do they have service dogs for migraines? You should be able to ask Owens. You still have them frequently, right? What do you think about your eyesight? Are you still having trouble seeing it? Or it's the strain you put on your eyes that causes migraines. You may need glasses, Dingus,' Robin rambled.

Steve rolled his eyes, 'You're rambling again, Birdie.'

'Sorry,' she said automatically. 'So?'

'So, what?'

'Dear Christ,' Robin scoffed. 'Are you going to talk to Owens or not?'

Steve frowned, 'I probably should.'

'So call him. Start fixing yourself because a knight and shining armor can't help you,' she said. 'Eddie couldn't help you. I can't help you. You have to do this on your own,' she added. 'Of course, you can like to talk to be, but you have to hold yourself accountable and all that jazz.'

'Fine,' he sighed. 'I'll call Owens.'

'Good!' Robin said. 'My sweet child,' she faked sniffing over the phone, 'growing up into a responsible young man.'

'Dear lord,' Steve laughed. 'Alright, Mom. I have to go. I have work in an hour and apparently have to call Owens.'

'Steve,' Robin said, voice serious.

'Yeah?'

'I love you,' she said. 'You'll get through this.'

'Love you too,' he said softly. 'Thanks.'

'Anytime, Dingus.'

'Do you think you would have ever come if your previous partner had never broken up?' Doctor Newman asked gaze focused on Steve as her pen was settled against the clipboard, prepared to write at a moment's notice.

Steve eyed the pen warily, feeling uncomfortable. Therapy was part of what Owens offered him to help treat his PTSD. While Steve didn't want to sit and be interrogated, he was doing this for himself (and Robin; he didn't want to disappoint her).

'Probably not,' Steve said, honesty laced in his voice.

He doubted it would have ever been a thought on his mind if he and Eddie were still together. Steve would have internalized everything like he had always done. Knowing that thought, Steve knew he wouldn't have a chance to change from who he was or the shell of who he thought he was.

'Why do you think you wouldn't have?' the woman asked.

Steve moved his gaze to the clock, staring at the second hand, watching as it made its way around, counting down the seconds of the minute. 'I wouldn't have realized that there was a problem. I probably would have just done what I did before, internalize everything.'

'I see. Did you need to internalize your feelings because you might have thought they made you less of a person?'

He tensed and shifted uncomfortably. 'Maybe. I don't know. I don't think my feelings are all that important. Like, I, uh, I don't know, I just think there's no need to make a big deal of them.'

Doctor Newman glanced down at her clipboard, writing something down. 'Hm.' She looked up at Steve, tapping her pen gently against the board. 'Well, you're feelings are important, and it's always okay to prioritize your feelings, even if you think that makes you selfish. Being selfish is alright, especially when your mental health will thank you. Sometimes we all need a break, and sometimes we all need to just sit somewhere and feel.'

Steve nodded, taking in her words. 'I get that, I do, but I grew up in a house where feelings were something you put on the back burner. Then with the event from '83 to '86, feelings seemed irrelevant when people around me were hurting worse, who deserved and needed the attention or care.'

'So, despite the trauma that had fallen on you, you believed it to be small compared to those around you?'

'I mean, yeah?' Steve said, confused. 'The kids were going through so much. They needed someone to lean on, to be cool and collected. They needed someone safe. That was me. It had to be me. The adults and the others were all trying to sort through their own issues, and mine seemed so small in comparison.'

'But they weren't,' Doctor Newman said. 'All your problems? They are just as important as everyone else's. You can't compare your trauma to someone else's because everyone experiences trauma differently.' She picked a vanilla folder off the table, opened it, and flipped through a few pages. 'Doctor Owens sent me your file,' she said. 'And I have to say that you have gone through a good bit of trauma, specifically with Starcourt.'

Steve licked his lips, mentally wincing at the thought of Starcourt. 'I guess.'

'While the Upside Down -- that's what you called it, correct?' Doctor Newman asked.

He nodded, 'The kids called it that. Something about a rat on a rope or something.'

She nodded, 'Alright. So while the Upside Down and the Russians greatly affected you, I think your trauma might have started earlier. Would you be comfortable telling me about your relationship with your parents?'

Steve glanced at the clock, frowning that not more than ten minutes had passed. He coughed, adjusting in his seat. 'There's not much to say,' he said. 'They weren't around a lot.'

'That's a big vague,' she wrote on her clipboard again. 'What were they like when you were a child, before they started becoming less of a fixture in your life? What were they like when they were home? What about now? What's your relationship like now?'

Steve lifted his hand to his mouth, nibbling on the nail of his thumb. His parents weren't something he wanted to talk about.

'This is a safe space,' Doctor Newman said. 'If you aren't ready to talk about your parents, we don't have to. Not until you're ready.'

'And if I'm not ready?'

'Then you aren't,' she said. 'We have all the time in the world, but I think some of your complications stem from your parents, and I can't help you without you opening up about your childhood. So, we'll return here each week until you're ready to face it.'

‘You make it sound easy,’ he laughed.

‘It’s not,’ Doctor Newman corrected. ‘Sharing something personal, especially when it's difficult to talk about, is far from easy. We don't know each other well, and I assume that even if you were more familiar with me, you still wouldn't find it easy to share your experience with me, and that is okay.’

Steve swallowed thickly. He didn't say anything for a moment, struggling to find the words. He licked his lips, glancing back up at the clock, then to his hands, then to Doctor Newman.

‘Uh, my parents,’ he started, before pausing, face pinching together.

‘Take your time,’ Doctor Newman said.

Steve took a deep breath, slouching deep into the chair. ‘Well, I think it started back in ‘76, after I turned 10,’ he began.

NOTE: Thank you guys for reading! I wasn't planning on doing a flash-back chapter, but I might throw them in between present chapters just to give context to what led up to Steve doing what he's doing. Also, if you've noticed, the break-up isn't a super bad one (in the context of why they could have broken up.) I wasn't going to have cheating or anything, but rather something that could be fixed, because I want a happy ending for my boys. Of course, it's worse in Steve's eyes because he just blames himself for stuff. IDK, I thought of doing something worse, but I felt that might be too much.

Also, if you aren't fond of reading fics on Tumblr and prefer the Ao3 formatting, the link to the fic is HERE. Tumblr sees all updates first, and there's a 1-4 hour delay of transfer posting to Ao3. I go through and edit everything. Tumblr is like the RAW/Uncut version, so to speak.

Remember that if you want to be added to the tag list to leave a comment below or send me a DM!

TAGLIST: @swimmingbirdrunningrock x @cinnamon-mushroomabomination x @phirex22 x @kylobith x @screaming-alone x @poopypantsbennett x @ledleaf x @rhyswritesreadsandcries

[aylasology]

rockstar!Robin x reader

(reader is fem)

summary : Oh to be in a rockstar's arms...

warnings : mentions of smoking, drinking, cocaine, SMUT SMUT SMUTTTT

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

• You were sure you had it all figured out, a nice apartment in New York city with your best friends, a stable job, the perfect new yorker life you've been wanting the minute you stepped out your parents's home...

• until, of course, you stepped into a record store. An album and a band catching your attention.

• Take Back The Night - Hellfire

• It wasn't really the name of the band that caught your attention, there were worse names, it wasn't exactly the genre either. It was the girl standing in the front, all tall and lean. Short blonde hair teased up to the nines and bangs that draped like curtains over her blue eyes. Her arms slung on two of her members, one with long curly hair that looked like Kirk Hammett's curls, and one with much shorter hair.

• One vinyl turns into three, which then shifts to five more of the same record in different colors. You were obsessed with their music, more so on the lead singer.

• You soon learn the names of the band members and their respective roles. Robin Buckley on vocals, Eddie Munson on guitar, Steve Harrington on bass, and Dustin Henderson on drums.

• You find out that you're roommate/best friend, is covering an article on Hellfire. Getting backstage passes and two tickets to some band they're opening for.

• Of course you beg him to give you the other ticket and the extra backstage pass.

• For some odd reason you choose to go for a rather revealing look - Long leather boots, a tight red dress, and a leather jacket over it.

• It wasn't hard to keep your eyes on Robin. Wearing flare jeans, a tank top and her heartshaped glasses - a staple in her clothes.

• After the concert, you follow your best friend backstage and into Hellfire's dressing room.

• She couldn't pull her eyes away from you. How sweet and innocent you looked in your little outfit, an innocence she wanted to ruin.

• "And who's this pretty little thing?"

• She invites you to a party of theirs the minute your friend finishes his interview with them. Of course you say yes.

• The party was crowded, filled with musicians and the like. She liked having you around, making sure you were attached to her at all times.

• She definitely gropes your ass while dancing with you omgomgomgomg

• She didn't take it very well when someone pulls you away from her gaze. Some artist chatting away with you. The way her teeth clenched when a giggle erupted from your lips. She wanted that sound to come out because of her and her only.

• She pulls you into her bedroom, pinning you by the frame of the door.

• "You think you can just smile and act cute around some guy? Don't forget why you're here pretty girl."

• She kissed you powerfully, heat boiling up from your core. You moaned into it, she smirked.

• "Good girl..."

• And as much as you needed her to touch you, she pulls away. Opening the door and walking right out.

• You came home that night, lying to your friend that you had gone to a bar.

• And the days pass by so easily, getting free tickets to every gig, going to parties every single night, gaining sweet make out sessions with Robin anywhere and everywhere she wanted to have you.

• It was the 1970s of course, which meant she kissed you in bathrooms, dressing rooms, and bedrooms.

• The first time she touches you, it's after recording their next studio album, you being propped up against the desk. Hands gripped against the equipment as her fingers worked her magic on you.

• "Such a pretty little princess,"

• It's rushed, it's eager, it's hot, it leaves you satisfied right after.

• Right after that, she lets you stay over her apartment for the night

• Of course the second, and the third, and the fourth time she touches you happens there 👁️👁️

• Her touch is sweet, giving, and fucking needy.

• And the way your eyes glint and the way you beg? Gets her so turned on every time.

• But the moment you actually moan? You're just begging for it by then.

• "All this for me? Such a dirty slut..."

• "What was that honey? Use those pretty little lips of yours f'me..."

• She definitely likes sniffing cocaine on your belly, licking the skin once she's finished.

• She'd get on top of you right after, hips straddled on yours as she kissed you. Pushing her tongue in your mouth, letting the taste land on your tongue.

[steddieunderdogfics]

December 11th for Non-Linear. I hope time-loop counts? Emito (@Emitowrites on here) has a fic called Everywhere, Everything.

Everywhere, Everything by Emito

@emitowrites

Rating: M

23,894 words, 13/1 3 chapters

Archive Warning: No Warnings

Tags:

Time Loop, Gay Eddie Munson, Eddie Munson Has a Crush on Steve Harrington, Dustin Henderson is a Little Shit, Hard of Hearing Steve Harrington, Song: Everywhere Everything (Noah Kahan), Steve Harrington Has a Crush on Eddie Munson, Eddie Munson Has Powers, Bisexual Steve Harrington, Autistic Eddie Munson, Drive-In, Eddie Munson's Tattoos, Eddie Munson's Rings, Monologuing, Exposition, Nose bleeds as a plot device, Saving your own life as a superpower, Eddie Munson Lives, Angst with a Happy Ending, Robin Buckley has the best ideas, Excessive use of the word fuck, Nancy Wheeler is a Sweetheart, Eddie Munson Has ADHD, Eddie Munson's Hands, Steve Harrington's Love Language is Gift Giving, Eddie Munson is Steve Harrington's Bisexual Awakening, Alluding to breaking the fourth wall, Eleven's void, Musician Eddie Munson, Music as a power, Omnipotence as a power, Eddie's void, Romance, being gentle with each other, Using 'man' instead of pet names, Using chores as a love language, Recreational Drug Use, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Using 'you idiot!' to tell someone you like them, Love Confessions, Idiots in Love, Eddie Munson Loves Steve Harrington, Steve Harrington Loves Eddie Munson, Competence is Sexy, They spend a lot of time in the bath... but not in a sexy way?, Eventual Smut, sight impairment, Eddie Munson Wears Glasses, Learning ASL as a love language, Siblings Eleven | Jane Hopper & Eddie Munson, Synesthesia, Fix-It, Temporary Character Death, Timey-Wimey, Robin Buckley is a goddamn genius, Idiots in Like, Lip reading, Songfic, Steddie songfic

Summary:

The first time it happens, Eddie doesn’t really even realise it. He’s dying in Dustin’s arms, he’s in pain, and then suddenly he’s under the tarp, in the boathouse, jumping out with a broken bottle in his hand, shaking as he holds Steve Fucking Harrington up against the wall. It has to be a dream. It can’t have happened. It wasn’t real. But it was real, and the next go around unravels in exactly the same way. This time, he remembers the vents, they patch them up before he plays guitar, but it doesn’t help. He dies in Dustin’s arms, wakes up and he’s got Steve pushed to the wall before he can even blink.

Thanks for the rec!

This rec is a part of our Birthday Celebration Challenge Week! The challenge for today was NON-LINEAR FICS.

Know a fic that deserves extra love? Submit through our asks or the submission box!

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

"Have you ever been in love?" Robin blurted out.

Suddenly, Steve felt like he was on the bathroom floor at Starcourt again instead of the floor of Eddie's spacious new bedroom. Robin and Steve had been nervous about getting high, so they went to Eddie, whom they trusted completely. Of course, when they told him that they thought he would wind up hugging the air of the both of them. Now, here they were with their feet on the wall as they stared at their now painted black toenails.

"Who are you talking to there, Buckley?" Eddie asked, leaning over Steve to look at her.

"You, of course, Sir Tedward," Robin said.

"Why, Lady Bobin, do you believe yourself to be a high enough level to unlock that information?" Eddie asked.

"Oh, yes. I am very high," she giggled.

"Very well," Eddie said in amusement and then sighed. "So, there was this chick named Paige - "

"A chick?!" Robin squawked.

"I'm sorry, a woman - ,"

"No, that's not what I meant. I thought you told us you were into dudes," she said.

"No, Birdie," Eddie said, rolling his eyes. "I said I was ALSO into dudes."

"Oooh," Robin said.

"Clean out your ears, Robin," Eddie scoffed.

"Ass!" Robin pouted.

"You're bisexual too?" Steve asked with grinned. "Me too, man!"

"I know, darling, you've already told me," Eddie said in amusement. "Like, right after we started smoking and then again when we painted our nails."

"Oh, right," Steve blushed and laid his head back down on Eddie's shoulder.

"So, anyway, I wasn't really in love with her, but I was starting to fall for her pretty fast. She was everything that I thought that I wanted, and she's the closet that I've ever been until. . . ," Eddie said and cleared his throat. "She made it seem like she was going to make all my dreams as a musician come true. In order to do that, I needed money, so I schemed with my no good father and gave the money to her. I was stupid. Of course, she took the money and ran. I ended up being as stupid as my dad. Really lived up to the Munson name."

"She used you, Eddie. She's the dumb one. She used your giant, hopeful heart, and she used it. She's the stupid one," Steve said and rolled into his chest. "I only want one thing from you, Eddie. I want the heart that she was stupid enough to turn away from. Please? I'll give you mine if you give me yours. Swapsies?"

"Yeah, big boy, you can have my heart," Eddie said. "Let's have this conversation when we're a little less high though."

Steve snuggled into Eddie's chest and closed his eyes, the both of them drifting off to sleep to the sound of Robin's snores. The next morning, Steve woke up and stretched, his movements causing him to wake up Eddie.

"Good morning," Steve grinned.

"Morning, big boy," Eddie smiled sleepily.

"I still want it," Steve said, rubbing the spot on his chest and kissed it. "I still want you."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Swapsies?"

"Swapsies."

They giggled as they kissed, laughing into each other's mouths. Eddie cupped his face and deepened the kiss, rolling on top of Steve. He surged forward, licking his tongue into Eddie's mouth, and gripped the edge of his shirt. A loud groaning sound caused them to break apart, and they looked up to find Robin leaning over the edge of the bed. Sometime during the night she must have crawled up there.

"I'm gonna barf," Robin said.

"Bad reaction to the weed, babe?" Steve asked.

"No, more like a bad reaction to you dingues," Robin said, mock scowling. "You guys use too much tongue. You look like dogs lapping water out of the toilet bowl. Sound like them, too."

"She's just a peach in the morning, isn't she?" Eddie asked.

"Yeah, she is not a morning person," Steve said.

"Hey, at least I kissed a girl before you kissed a guy," Robin taunted.

"Yeah, that's not true," Steve scoffed, and Eddie rolled off of him.

"Baby. . .I'm not the first guy you kissed?" Eddie pouted.

"Oh God, please don't tell me that it was Tommy H," Robin screwed up her face.

"No, and I'm not going to tell you. I don't know how open he is about his sexuality," Steve said.

"Shit. I didn't think about that," she mumbled.

"I can not believe that I am not the first guy that you kissed," Eddie said, crossing his arms.

"Am I the first guy that you kissed?" Steve asked.

"Well, no," Eddie said, rolling his eyes, pouting. "But still. . . I wanted to be your first guy kiss."

"Fine. You are more than welcome to pretend, love," Steve rolled his eyes.

"My tongue is the first male tongue that has been inside of Steve Harrington!" Eddie exclaimed, jumping up. "I do so declare."

"Oh my God! It was just his mouth," Robin groaned.

"It still counts, Buckley," Eddie replied.

He grinned at the empty spot next to Robin and threw himself onto the bed, causing Robin to bounce.

"You ass!" Robin shrieked.

She picked up the teddy bear that was on his bed.

"Not Sir Fluffington! That was a gift from my mother!" Eddie shrieked.

"Then I shall protect them with my life," Robin said seriously, clutching him to her chest.

"That's all I ask," Eddie said and hugged her.

Steve grinned and plopped down on the other side of Robin.

"So, you kissed a girl and didn't tell me?" Steve asked.

"Wait, she's never done that before?" Eddie asked with wide eyes. "Okay, Buckley, you need to tell us everything!"

"Okay, Vickie invited me over to her place the other day. She told me that she was having a few friends over and when I got there no one else was there. Apparently, everyone else had called and bailed, except that wasn't really the truth. When we finished the movie, Vickie told me that she liked me and that she wanted to get me over here somehow with actually asking me. Oh my God, she can ramble more than me! She just kept apologizing, and that's when I kissed her. The next thing I know, we're making out, and then she's asking me to be her girlfriend. I said yes!" Robin exclaimed, and she squealed, hugging Sir Fluffington tightly.

"Yeah, get it, Buckley," Eddie grinned, and then he frowned. "Steven, we just kissed. Why haven't you asked me to be your boyfriend?"

"Eddie, do you want to be my boyfriend?" Steve asked, smiling softly.

"Hmm, I don't know. It's a lot to think about. It's a lot of responsibility, you know, to be Steve Harrington's boyfriend. I mean, how much does the hair maintenance alone cost?" Eddie asked dramatically and Robin snorted.

"Oh, right, like you're so low maintenance yourself, mister," Steve said and then paused, widening his eyes as he pouted. "You know, despite all the trouble you give me, I think that you're worth it. If you asked me to be your boyfriend, I wouldn't even hesitate to say yes."

"Oh, damn it, you got me," Eddie cackled, shaking his head from side to side. "Fine, I'll be your boyfriend."

"Dinguses the both of you," Robin said fondly and pulled them both down to her side before they could kiss. "Promise me something?"

"Anything for you, Rob," Steve replied.

"Promise me that if something goes wrong, that we'll always be friends," Robin said. "That if you guys do break up that you can go back to being friends and that we all still hang out. I mean, I doubt you will break up because Steve has a notebook filled with pages of Mr. Steve Munson doodled all over."

"Robin!" Steve exclaimed, blushing.

"Okay, we're coming back to that notebook, but Robin, we're bonded for life. There is nothing that can tear us apart," Eddie said.

"I love you guys. You are my emotional support bisexuals, I can't go anywhere without you two," Robin sighed in relief. "Like a couple of bookends."

"And you are our favorite emotional support lesbian," Eddie said.

"I better be your only emotional support lesbian, Munson!" Robin exclaimed.

"Wellll. . .," Eddie said thoughtfully.

"Names! I want names!"

Steve watched them fondly as they squabbled. He always swore that in a past life, they had been siblings. The next thing he knew, Robin was making Eddie make a vow of friendship, and then Eddie was pulling out a knife. Steve acted quickly.

"No blood oaths!"

"Aww, Steve!"

"I said no!"

"Just a little blood oath?"

"We've talked about this!"

Meanwhile, Wayne had just come home from work and went to let Eddie know when he heard the last part of their conversation.

"I don't even want to know," Wayne sighed, shook his head fondly, and went to his bedroom on the other side of the house.

[munson-blurbs]

Can I request a meet cute with Robin?

I am shy, funny (well I like to think I am) nerdy, thoughtful

My hobbies include singing, drawing, and watching movies

My pronouns are She/her

keep in mind that I am Black

thank you!

Your meet-cute happens at chorus practice!

CW: none WC: 602 Divider credit to @hellfire--cult

Senior year of high school has long been associated with variation traditions. Senior prom, senior prank, and senior skip day were particularly beloved at Hawkins High. 

For you, the main event was the senior solo at the spring concert. You’d wanted it ever since you joined the chorus as a meek freshman. In the spring of 1983, you’d watched Valerie Hoffman sing a stunning rendition of “Daydream Believer.” Her voice captured the audience into a trance-like state until that final note, when they rose to their feet and gave her a standing ovation. 

You never forgot the sound of applause swelling throughout the school auditorium. And you promised yourself that you would work up the confidence to sing a solo and garner that same reaction.  

It had been four years of diligent practice; not just vocals, but pushing past your natural timid nature and singing in front of people. Four whole years of biweekly chorus practices, voice lessons, and the occasional nursing home performance, that all boiled down to one audition. 

And you got it. You got the senior solo. 

Your first rehearsal was today immediately after school. You’d already worked with Mrs. Cavendish to select your song—All You Need Is Love by The Beatles, and she had transposed it into a higher key. 

When you walked into the rehearsal room, your chorus teacher was already there. Standing beside her was the cutest girl you’d ever seen. 

“Perfect, you’re here!” Mrs. Cavendish chirped. “This is Robin Buckley. Mr. Rosemont says she’s the best trumpeter in Band.”

Robin gave a shy wave. “Hey. I’m Robin.” She let out a self-deprecating scoff. “Well, duh, she just said it. And she said I’m here to play trumpet for you, so I guess I don’t need to tell you that, either…”

You watched a pink hue creep into her cheeks. She was beautiful, and her rambling somehow made her more endearing. 

Despite all of the effort you’d put towards confidence building, you found yourself at a loss for words. “Y-Yeah,” you finally said, “do you like The Beatles?”

Where you lacked words, Robin made up for it. “Who doesn’t?” She blurted out excitedly. “I mean, like them or not, they had such a…a profound impact on music! We wouldn’t have half of the musicians we have today without their influence, y’know?”

You nodded, acutely aware of Mrs. Cavendish placing sheet music in your hands. And though your eyes watched as she conducted you and Robin, your thoughts fixated on the girl playing the trumpet. 

You wondered what it would feel like to kiss her, to capture her lips with yours. It didn’t help that the lyrics of the song focused on the wonder of being in love. 

Every so often, you saw her glancing at you. Was she just checking to make sure you approved of her playing? Or was there something more to it?

All you need is love 

All you need is love 

All you need is love, love 

Love is all you need

When the song was over, you didn’t speak again until Mrs. Cavendish had left and Robin was putting away her trumpet.

“You’re really talented,” you managed. 

“Thanks.” Robin smiled and wiped one palm on her jeans. “Your voice is just…stunning. I got goosebumps and everything.” She paused for a beat before asking, “do you wanna grab some ice cream at Scoops Ahoy? I worked there over the summer, so I know I can definitely bully Steve Harrington into giving us free cones.”

You giggled at the idea of her taking down the former King of Hawkins High. 

“I’d love that.”

--