#platonic stobin fic rec

[sapphirecobalt-1]

https://archiveofourown.org/works/46804651/chapters/117889981

Title: I’ve said too much, I haven’t said enough

Chapters: 1/?

Word count: ~7,222

Fandom: Stranger Things

Ships: Steve Harrington & Robin Buckley, Eddie Munson/Steve Harrington

Tags:  adhd Eddie, autistic Robin, adhd Robin, deaf Steve, queer platonic steve & Robin, lavender married Steve & Robin, disabled Steve Harrington, disabled Max Mayfield, disabled Chrissy Cunningham, character study, AU - Canon Divergent, AU - Summer Camp, oh my god they were camp counselors, angst, angst with a happy ending, not beta read we die like Billy, tags will be updated as the story progresses

Summary:

It's 1987, and Vecna's been six feet under for over a year.

But even as our heroes try to move on, the havoc Vecna wreaked still haunts them.

Some things just refuse to be buried.

[travelingtwentysomething]

[yearningagain]

it's enough (to make a girl blush)

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

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

also on AO3!

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

part two | part three

--------------

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

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

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

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

Almost.

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

And Steve opened his eyes.

—

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

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

(Yes. He was.)

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

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

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

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

"Morning, Robs."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Be ready in an hour, Buckley.”

[little-annie]

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

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

From that, this idea was born.

Rubber Ducking | M | 873 WC | Steddie | Buckingham

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

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

But then it kept happening. 

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

It sounded like torture.

Like the stripping of flesh and bones.

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

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

She just knew that unfortunately there had to be one.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Original Ducky = Someone is horny.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Like that show with the sex mug?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

This one though, makes her wonder. 

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

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

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

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

“Whatcha doing, Buck?”

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

Feminization maybe?

“Chrissy?” Eddie asks

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

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

What?

“Course it is.”

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

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

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

No.

No?

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

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

“You gonna go get your girl, Rob?”

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

[littlelostbirdy]

Is my blog becoming a "does anyone have any fic recs" space? Yes. Yes it is.

[qprstobin]

Stobin Different First Meeting AU where they go to prom together. This was meant to be an au post and turned into a mini fic oops (written completely within a tumblr post so sorry for the poor quality)

(edit: realized I should link the fic I was inspired by for those who don't follow me and so didn't see me reblog it earlier)

Steve doesn't necessarily want to go to prom, right? Like yeah, he'd been imagining it for a while, but now that he was very, very single it just didn't have the same shine that it used to. And he really wasn't ready to start dating yet. However, he didn't want to just, not go to prom, and also knew it would seem really weird (and pretty fucking sad) if he didn't go.

Which leaves him in a conundrum.

He thought for a while that maybe he would go with one of the junior cheerleaders. While he didn't have any close friends anymore, he was still friendly with plenty of people. There were girls that wouldn't be going to prom unless they had a senior boyfriend - some he had even gone on dates with in the past who wouldn't think a single prom date meant that he wanted a new girlfriend.

However, he is pretty sure most of those girls would have... other expectations for the night. And honestly? He isn't quite sure that he was ready to get back on that horse either.

... Not that he thought women were horses.

He's pretty sure men are normally the ones called horses in riding metaphors.

Anyway.

That left him stuck. He couldn't just not go to prom, but also didn't want to wind up trapped on an actual date with someone. So who could he ask?

His solution ended up coming from an odd place.

Robin Buckley was... quite honestly, kind of a weirdo.

She was cute, in an alternative sort of way. She never took any of his shit (he wasn't completely sure she even liked him) but also reluctantly laughed at the snarky shit he said under his breath during their Film History class. And not in the fake giggly way girls did when they were flirting, but didn't actually care about what he was saying, just the way he said it. She actually seemed to think he was funny. Even if that revelation seemed to piss her off.

The only reason he was even in Film History that semester - and therefore, knew who she was - was for the easy A. He got to watch movies in class, and watch movies for homework. He was willing to plow through a couple of shitty essays in exchange for a class that he didn't feel like a complete idiot in.

(Well, he was pretty sure Robin thought he was an idiot about movies, but just because he had trouble remembering the names and shit of characters, didn't mean he couldn't analyze the themes, fuck you very much, Buckley.)

They had gotten assigned a project together early on, and it hadn't been completely terrible. She had quickly taken over doing most of the writing portions, but hadn't thought all of his ideas were terrible. By the end of the project he thought they were even sort of having fun together.

He'd always been one to try his luck, take a little more than he was given. So, after that assignment was over, he started sitting next to her in class, not wanting that easy, if sharp, camaraderie to end. Robin rolled her eyes at him and asked him what he thought he was doing the first time he did it, but she never sent him away.

They ended up chatting more and more during down times, passing notes to each other and sharing sly comments under their breaths during the movies. Steve often had trouble paying attention at school, his mind easily wandering away, and it was almost as bad during most movies, but Robin helped keep him on track.

The class turned into one that was done for the easy grade, a last ditch effort to improve his already hopeless GPA, and became one he actually enjoyed.

The more he thought about it, the more he liked the idea of going to prom with Robin. It made the night seem a little less unbearable.

He thought about making a big deal out of asking her, because he knows that's what girls (and even Nancy) had enjoyed for past dances. He quickly scrapped that idea, however, because not only did he not want to put pressure on her like that, but also she seemed to hate public spectacles like that.

Or at least when aimed at her, they both enjoyed watching drama unfold in the halls a bit too much to say she hated it completely.

So Steve waits until the end of the day, their film class being their last, to pull her into an empty classroom. She follows him without question in a show of trust he didn't realize she had in him. The notion warms him, and for some reason makes it more difficult to get the question out.

"Why do I feel like you're about to try to sell me drugs or something?" Robin asked, raising an eyebrow at him. He squints at her in offense.

"Why is that your first assumption?!"

"I don't know! Why else are you pulling me out of the hallway all secretive like, making sure no one followed us, into an abandoned classroom," she asks, throwing her arms into the air.

"The classroom isn't abandoned, it's the end of the day! Also, who does drug deals on campus, that's just stupid?" He asks rhetorically, before waving one hand through the air, as if trying to erase the current thread of conversation. "That doesn't matter, you're distracting me."

"Well then, get on with it! Some of us have practice we need to get to."

"It's like talking to the kids," he mutters to himself, "Whatever. I wanted to ask - will you go to prom with me?"

That stops Robin up short. There's panic in her eyes now, though Steve isn't sure what exactly put it there. Was his reputation that bad that even band geeks are terrified of getting asked out by him?

"You want to go on a date? With me?" she asks slowly, disbelief coloring her voice, though it doesn't hide her unease.

"No, I want to go to prom with you," he scoffs, "Not go on a date with you."

"That is a date, dingus! The person you go to prom with is literally called your date!"

"Okay, sure, maybe, but I don't actually want to date you," he said, rolling his eyes at her.

Like, okay, he understood his reputation for being... what did she call him last week? A 'huge effing rake'? But that didn't mean that he was trying to date any girl that looked in his direction. A lot of girls looked in his direction. That was too many women, even for him.

Robin relaxes a little at that.

"Then why are you asking me to prom instead of someone you actually want to date?"

"Because!" he says, resisting the urge to flail his hands back at her. "I don't want to date anyone right now. Most people I ask are going to expect all these things from me - they're going to want dinner, and at the very least a kiss at the end of the night if not more, or another date the very next day. Because Steve Harrington is supposed to want those things!" He takes a deep breath and runs a hand through his hair to calm himself. "But right now? I really don't."

"Well then, what does Steve the Hair Harrington actually want?" She had relaxed fully at this point, a smile playing at the corner of her mouth.

"I want to go to prom with someone I consider a friend, someone who makes me laugh," he says after a moment of silence. "I want to dance badly to really corny pop music and drink just enough spiked punch that I don't remember how much I hate wearing any sort of tie. Then I want to go get milkshakes or go see a really trashy midnight horror flick, just because I'm having so much fun I don't want the night to end."

That small smile has grown into a reluctant grin on Robin's face. It makes her eyes shine and her freckles pop. Steve thought that if he was in a better place, if they had met at a different time, he could have fallen in love with her.

But they had met now instead, in some shitty public school elective course, and she was the closest thing he had to a friend that wasn't a snotty middle schooler.

"That sounds... like a lot of fun, actually," she says, mischief sparking on her face. "Who would've known the hidden depths hidden behind all that hair."

"Hey!" he protests half-heartedly, unable to keep a grin of his own off his face. "So what do you say? Wanna go to prom with me?"

"I guess," she sighs, acting like it was such a trial to go to prom with him. Him! But her next words make up for it. "Since we're friends, and all. However, I still expect you to buy me dinner, though you can keep the kiss goodnight to yourself."

Steve can't help the giddy laugh from spilling out of him. For the first time in weeks, he is actually looking forward to prom.

[forestmossling]

the last few days have been full of absolutely stunning works i’m still gearing up to share with you guys, but i’m gonna start here.

i love this so so much. first of all - LET STEVE AND EDDIE GROW OLD TOGETHER AGENDA!!! i was just incredibly happy to see them in their thirties, more or less settled in their lives, matured and distanced from the adrenaline rush of the upside down. and i really love how they finally meet each other, where they work, all of it.

i love how the relationships in this fic (even besides steddie) are so deep and caring while simultaneously being somewhat awkward and complicated at times. i love how steve and robin interact, i love how steve and dustin interact: obviously loving each other to bits, but with some rough stumbling to it sometimes, the way they relationships morphed and adjusted with them not living in each others’ back pockets anymore, but, fundamentally, stayed the same. i, unfortunately, struggle to write relationships this way: i use writing (and reading, duh) primarily for escapism, so i always want to give my characters the easy and perfect relationship i myself crave, because god knows i have a lot of deeply meaningful but messy and complicated stuff going on in my own life. but boy do i love to see authors who can pull it off so well.

and this was pulled off exceptionally well in case of steddie here. i adore everything about the way steddie’s relationship started and progressed here. i love the mundanity of it all, the way they found each other and connected in this little snippets of everyday routine before anything else came along. i love the way it seems like they really were destined to end up together, with their matching scars and past, with always searching for things in past partners that only they could give to each other, but that doesn’t mean it has to be some grandiose out-of-this-world thing to be meaningful and special.

i also really love both steve’s and eddie’s characterizations in this fic, their past experiences growing up, their outlook on relationships, themselves and each other, their priorities and grievances and feelings. i can so easily imagine them growing up to fit into this picture the author created and it makes me feel all sorts of things.

i would like to express my deepest gratitude to @emryses for creating this beautiful story, it tied me up in all sorts of knots but then untied me out of them better and more settled than before. i REALLY loved this and i think y’all would love it too, so am recommending, 983624538449576675829126599479/10.

[steddieunderdogfics]

Visions Of the Things to Be by findafight

Visions Of the Things to Be by findafight

Rating: General

2,866 words, 1/1 chapters

Archive Warning: No Warnings

Tags: Robin Buckley & Steve Harrington Are Best Friends, Eddie Munson Lives, Eddie Munson Has a Crush on Steve Harrington, Pre-Season/Series 04, Post-Season/Series 04, EMT Steve Harrington, Implied/Referenced Underage Drinking, Crack Treated Seriously, Developing Relationship, References to MASH (TV), 5+1 Things, sorta?, Background Steve and Claudia Henderson bonding, the inescapable nature of north america's most popular scripted show of all time, Floor Rum Cake, and the inherent romanticism and dedication implied therein, Steve Harrington Loves MASH

Summary:

The one thing Eddie loved that was, for all intents and purposes, mainstream (eugh) was M*A*S*H. Of course it was. Hawkeye Pierce was a…formative experience for a young Eddie, and he wasn't ashamed of that. The chaos Hawkeye formulated and controlled in his persona was a goal Eddie truly aspired to. His swagger and confidence and easy charm whilst also being a snarky asshole was everything Eddie wanted to embody. So. It was…frustrating when Henderson swanned into hellfire complaining about Steve goddamn Harrington having a fucking wine night (wine!! Night!!) with his mother. OR Eddie loves M*A*S*H almost as much as Steve does, and fancies himself a bit of a Hawkeye Pierce character, only to find out he is...incorrect. About a lot of things. OR OR 5 times Eddie was annoyed at Steve Harrington's apparent equal love of the war doctor show, and a few times he wasn't really annoyed at all.

Thanks for the rec!

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

[steddilyfallingdeeper]

I thought about writing this myself, but don’t think I could do it justice.

Steddie fic. Based on ‘All The Pretty Girls’ by Fun. I just feel like there’s so much potential for the usual Eddie fare of “but Steve could date all these beautiful women�� and Steve being fully “fuck off, I want you” ALL THE PRETTY GIRLS CANT MEASURE TO YOU dumbass

Or

Steve’s realisation that he keeps striking out, because he talks about Eddie so fucking much, and none of the women he tries it on with are good enough, maybe even a “if only Eddie were a woman, I’d jump his bones, it’s not like he’s even unattractive as a guy, he’s fucking gorgeous, and I just want to spend every minute with him, I really wish I wasn’t straight… oh” Robin just nodding slowly as he works it out.

Anyway, if anyone’s looking for something to write. Please.

[bipunkharrington]

I need stories where Steve accidentally outs himself because he's unable to resist the opportunity to make a terrible bi joke please

[goodolefashionedloverboi]

Do you like Corpse Bride? Do you like Steddie? Well I've got just the thing for you!

I just finished reading With This Ring by Undreaming, (@undreaming-fanfiction) it was amazing. It's got pianist Steve, it's got background Ronance, and its got a talking cat!! You'll enjoy yourself :). It's T and up, so pretty much anyone can enjoy this, too!

It's the first time I do something like this, and I don't know if anyone will see this, but I do know that sharing is caring! Buh-Bye <3

[art-emisz]

steve and robin in their cowboy candy corral uniforms from @lesbianrobin's like a cowgirl's dream because the image just would NOT leave my brain

[yearningagain]

it's enough (to make a girl blush): chapter two

HELLO!!! welcome to chapter two! i'm amazed at the traction that this has gained with just the first chapter, and it's giving me so much motivation to continue this!

i've also decided to open up my ask box for suggestions for rambles and ficlets, so please shoot me a message if you feel so inclined!

and of course a huge thank you to @kayleeofcamelot for betaing and helping me so much!! without further ado!

also on ao3!

total wc: 2.6k | wc: 1.4k | rating: e (18+) | pairing: steddie | cw: none | tags: a/b/o, alpha eddie munson, omega steve harrington, modern au, baker steve, famous eddie, getting together, gay eddie, bi steve, soulmates/true mates/scent mates, side buckingham

part one | part three

--------------

Steve loved Robin more than he thought he could love anyone. She was the peanut butter to his jelly, the rock to his roll, the yin to his yang. He doesn't know how he managed as long as he did before meeting her, and he frankly doesn't know what he would do without her now. 

That being said, sometimes she does make Steve want to give himself another concussion. 

Lunch at the deli had been uneventful. They had eaten their sandwiches while nestled in the window booth in the back corner, turned to look out onto the streets of Chicago. Most of their conversation was driven by judgmental comments about passerby’s, ranging from jabs about interesting color choices on someone's tracksuit to monologues about wearing a faux fur coat with cheetah print leggings (“It’s the principle, Rob! You wouldn’t get it”).

After finishing their meals, the pair made their way across the street to the record store. Upon entry, Steve was surrounded by deep earthy scents, old vinyl and incense mingled with the fresh flowers growing in pots littered about. And that brought them to their current situation.

Robin was making a complete and utter fool out of herself. She was bright red in the face, and Steve couldn’t tell if it was from pure mortification or her complete lack of breathing for the past five minutes. As soon as a little blonde omega, introduced as Chrissy, emerged from the shelves to greet them and show them around, the alpha had not been able to stop her mouth from running and running. Now, normally in these situations, Steve would insert himself into Robin's one sided conversation and slow her down, purely to rescue the other person from being roped into a woven tale of at least six subjects at once. But after one look at Chrissy, and the adoration and attentiveness in her expression, he decided to leave it be. 

At the back corner of the shop was a small gathering of armchairs, a loveseat, and a small wooden coffee table. Plopping down into the comfiest looking chair, leaving the girls to their own devices, Steve pulled out his phone to start tackling the sea of messages he had received during the night. 

Dusty

12:58 AM: STEVE

STEVEN

12:59 AM: STEVEN HARRINGTON

STEVEN LOUISE HARRINGTON

1:01 AM: do you even love me anymore

1:08 AM: if i were dying i'd be dead by now

1:14 AM: ☠️☠️🩸🩸

1:27 AM: okay whatever goodnight steven text me when you’re  alive again ig 🙄

11:39 AM: Jesus Christ kid

That’s not even my name

11:40 AM: Did you die?

11:41 AM: no

11:41 AM: So what was so important?

11:43 AM: before i say anything i want to remind you that  i know all of your secrets and also you love me sooo much  and you’re the best babysitter ever and you owe me for  letting my mom hire you at the shop

11:44 AM: Dustin. What did you do.

11:44 AM: nothing!

i didn’t do anything i swear on my mother

11:45 AM: Okay…

So…?

11:46 AM: my favorite band is playing here next month but its an 18+ show

mom would never come with me, she’d have a heart attack i think

so i need you to take me

11:48 AM: i can pay for your ticket if you want!

11:50 AM: steve?

A loud crash echoed from within the shop, followed by an extremely disheveled Robin popping her head into the nook. "I need your help."

—

Leaving the girls was both the best and worst decision Steve could have made. 

In the ten minutes of inattentiveness, the alpha had managed to talk for seven of them consecutively. After realizing she had been talking herself in circles, she tried to reign it in, which ultimately ended in her accidental confession of attraction towards Chrissy. That then led to a kiss-turned-make-out, in which Robin had tried to push the shorter girl against a wall for more leverage. However, blinded by her circumstances, she pushed the omega into one of the shelves, effectively knocking it and its contents to the ground. They were old antique shelves that had been modified with basket-drawers to store records and other miscellaneous objects, they were heavy . 

Steve would be upset, but the dark blush and lovesick smile never quite left Robin's face. 

With that mess dealt with, he was finally able to respond to Dustin. He shot a quick 'Sure. Just LMK the deets ' text and slid his phone back into his pocket. Chrissy led them both back to the nook, bustling about and making sure they were comfortable.

"Steve, I am so incredibly sorry about that! Please sit here, let me go grab something and I'll be right back!" She dashed off down a small hallway towards the back of the building.

Steve shook his head at Robin, sighing loudly. "Couldn't keep it in your pants?"

The alpha huffed and looked away. She huffed again, this time more of a sniff. And then again. 

"Steve, are you fucking with me or something?"

Furrowing his eyebrows, he followed suit in her actions by taking his own sniff of the air. "What? What's going on?"

She continues sniffing, seemingly following the scent. Standing from her spot on the loveseat, laser focused on tracking, she walks right over to Steve.

"Your scent, it's changing. I knew it was different this morning! I know what you smell like, dingus. And you don't smell like you anymore. Well, okay, you still smell like you! But it's like you're roasting apples in the woods on a camping trip. And you've always smelled like apples, so I'm glad that's the same, but now it's different. Has anything weird happened lately? Have you felt different at all? Do you have a fever?" Her curiosity morphs into concern and she starts placing her hands over the omegas face, seeing if she can tell the temperature. "I've never been good at this. Should we go to the doctor? Do we need an ambulance? Shit, did you get poisoned?"

Steve grabbed her hands firmly, guiding them to his chest and taking a deep breath. "Breathe. I'm not dying, Robs. I think I'd know if I was." He takes a few more measured breaths, pulling her down into his lap for a hug. 

After he was sure she was calm, he relaxed his grip, but didn't let go. "I was actually meaning to ask you about something. Nothing bad, I promise! I just... I had this really weird dream last night and I woke up convinced it had actually happened. I was so convinced there would be physical proof, but there wasn't any. But I could smell the alpha in my dream. Have you ever had a dream where you could smell the other people?"

Robin looked at him calculatingly, a crease forming in her brow at the thought. "No, never. I didn't think it was a thing that happened."

"Exactly. I could smell him, birdie. I could feel him. It was real . Until it wasn't. I woke up heartbroken. For no real reason." He sighed once more, lowering his gaze to his fingers rested in his lap.

"Okay, I am so sorry once again, and I had no intention to eavesdrop whatsoever, but I want to help." Chrissy emerged from the hallway with a plate of mini cupcakes, a sheepish expression. 

Steve waved her off. "It's all good. If you don't think I'm crazy, I don't mind suggestions."

She set the plate of cupcakes onto the coffee table and sat down on the loveseat. Robin quickly scrambled off of Steve to sit next to the other omega, shooting him an apologetic glance. 

"So, basically, I read this book once, out of pure curiosity, that was about fate and the universe and all that. It had a whole section about how, years and years ago, alphas and omegas were randomly going through what seemed to be second presentations. It started with scent changes, and apparently a lot of people experienced some sort of initial mental connection. These changes were way less severe, and oftentimes not noticeable until a random heat or rut was triggered. When that would happen, it was always a pair at a time, one alpha and one omega. The moment they would smell the other for the first time is the moment their respective presentations would complete. They'd come out the other side bonded and, most often, pupped. Their bodies were preparing."

Steve stared at Chrissy, mouth agape. "Preparing for what, exactly?"

"Their soulmate!"

[epiclazershark]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Stranger Things (TV 2016) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson, Minor or Background Relationship(s), Robin Buckley/Chrissy Cunningham, Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington, Steve Harrington/Nancy Wheeler, Jonathan Byers/Steve Harrington, Argyle/Steve Harrington Characters: Robin Buckley, Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson, Dustin Henderson, Maxine "Max" Mayfield, Billy Hargrove, Nancy Wheeler, Mike Wheeler, Eleven | Jane Hopper, Will Byers, Jonathan Byers, Argyle (Stranger Things), Lucas Sinclair, Erica Sinclair Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Royalty, Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, except Steve and robins parents lol, Siblings Robin Buckley & Steve Harrington, Alternate Universe - Medieval, Mpreg, Matchmaking, Steve is actually the father of his kids Summary:

When her slightly older twin brother took the throne, Princess Robin of house Harrington was sent out on a mission. Her mission was to assess each of the prince's seven children with each of the five noble houses, and choose which one shall be her brother's consort and heir respectively.

[nancywheelersgirlfriend]

could u write a fic where nancy fully finds out what happened to robin and steve under starcourt

here u go, beloved anon. thank u for waiting so long and so patiently <3

so much braver (than i credit u for) (2,029 words)

T.W. implications of sexual assault, canon violence

The wear and tear were hardly visible in the summer sunlight - that's where Steve thrived, with his tan skin and admittedly nice chest and excellent swimming skill - but now, sat in front of his parents’ campfire with his head against his fist, he looked decades older than he really was. Nancy held her roasting stick tentatively, the marshmallow threatening to collapse into the fiery pit below as she distracted herself in tracing the shadows that fell underneath his eyes. In the harsh light he looked almost in a constant state of grief, with heavy eye bags and lines along his forehead, lips pressed in a thin line and hair limp from the heat.

Robin sat beside Nancy, the two having commandeered the foldout loveseat upon arriving in his backyard. She was expertly placing two roasted marshmallows onto their respective graham crackers - one burnt to all hell and one barely cooked. She passed one to Steve, who had his hand open and waiting as if second nature to accept food from Robin. He liked his barely cooked, apparently.

Eddie was nearly passed out in the lawn chair across the fire from them, a few purposeful feet from Steve after a day spent trying and failing to get a summer job. Surprisingly, nobody wanted to hire the assumed leader of a deadly cult. Robin suggested using it as a resume builder. Nancy suggested changing his name and trying out the next town over. He had his arms folded across his chest, a bit of marshmallow stuck to a long curled strand that Nancy didn’t have the heart to bother him about picking off.

Steve seemed to be contemplating shoving the entire smore in his mouth in one go. 

“You alright?” Nancy asked, immediately wincing at both the lack of tact and impersonality of her question - they’d known each other long enough to forgo conversation starters like that. “You look, um.”

“You look like shit,” Robin helpfully interrupted, sucking off a bit of marshmallow from her finger and generally being the bane of Nancy’s existence. Steve looked up from the smore as if he’d forgotten they were there completely, a little look of shock on his face.

“I’m fine,” He said, but his tone of voice was anything besides reassuring. “I’m, uh, just not getting much sleep lately.” Nancy nodded, fully prepared to drop the whole awkward thing anyway. Clearly, Steve didn’t want to talk about himself or his well-being - he hardly ever did.

“Me neither,” Robin agreed. She took a bite of her burnt-as-hell smore, wordlessly taking Nancy’s stick from out of her loose grip and holding it patiently over the fire for her.

“Thank you,” Nancy whispered to her side. Robin knocked their feet together in acknowledgment.

“I haven’t slept since 1983, honestly,” Steve added, and while he was laughing as he said it Nancy didn’t take it as a joke.

“I have trouble sleeping too,” Nancy admitted to the both of them, hoping to coax them out into the open. Steve and Robin were a bit like frightened animals - make them talk about their feelings too much and they’d scurry away. Deer in headlights type. She had to be gentle. “I dream about - Barb. And Fred.” Just saying their names still made her choked up. Nancy ducked her head into her sweater, prepared to blame her watery eyes on the heavy smoke from the campfire. As she sniffled into the fabric, Steve hummed in neutral agreement.

“I dream about the mall,” Steve said. Beside her, Nancy felt Robin move her whole body to nod.

“You saved my life,” Nancy said, smiling wetly as she remembered both t-boning Billy’s precious sports car seconds before he flattened Nancy into the concrete. “With Toddfather.”

“That was, actually, a highlight of the night,” Steve said, laughing a little in reply as he bit into his smore. “Perfect, Rob.”

“Did you expect anything less?” She asked, pulling back Nancy’s stick just as it was beginning to catch fire. If smore-making could be a job, Robin would be making six figures, no doubt. It was little things like that that made Nancy love her so heartbreakingly. Even watching her do something as simple as making her a smore with the correct amount of chocolate and graham made her heart try to pull itself out of her chest. 

“In most of my dreams,” Steve said, face grounding itself as he tapped a careful thumb against the top of his smore. “I’m - um. I’m back in that room.” Nancy frowned in confusion, taking Robin’s offered smore robotically as she looked at him.

“That room?” She asked. “What room?”

“We never told you?” Robin replied, a little surprised and a little cautious - Nancy’s heart began a steady descent down to her sneakers. What the hell had they not told her? 

It was hard to check in on everybody, especially after that night. She and Jon had been so in the dark about everything else - and the hospital, god. She hadn’t allowed space in her brain for anything else, which she could admit now was a little selfish. Still, Nancy had never asked. And Robin had never said. Certainly, Steve hadn’t. She hardly knew a thing about his childhood, despite dating him for two years and being one of his closest friends for another.

“I know you guys got messed up by some Russians,” Nancy said quietly, surveying both Steve's and Robin’s faces. In the firelight, they looked eerily similar - almost haunted. “But I don’t know the details. I’m sorry.”

“Why are you sorry?” Robin reassured her, hand coming to pull her waist in close and squeeze the outer pocket of her jacket. “We forgot to tell you. I guess it never came up.”

“Who wants to talk about it, anyway?” Steve said, mostly to himself. He took another bite of his smore as uneasy silence fell on the group. Nancy felt terrible to push, but her journalist curiosity got the better of her.

“So - what did happen?” She asked. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

“It’s fine,” Robin replied. Nancy watched her make eye contact with Steve, and they proceeded to have a conversation with only slight twitches on their faces. It was the innate ability that came with being best friends the way they were. “You know about the elevator, right?” Nancy racked her brain, then: yes, a hazy recollection of Erica explaining how they’d ended up in the underground base in the first place.

“Yeah, I do.”

“Well, after they set off the alarms and figured out we’d broken in, we all rushed into a backroom,” Robin began, eyes firmly set on the fire. As if she were embarrassed to tell Nancy - or nervous to see her reaction. “Dustin and Erica managed to get themselves into the vent system, to try to get out - but Steve and I had to hold the door to give them enough time. We were grabbed by a bunch of Russian guards and spilt up for interrogation. They kept us there for hours.”

“They beat me so bad I nearly died,” Steve cut in, teeth gritting against each other as if the words were forcing themselves out. Nancy noticed his empty hand, the one not holding his smore, was balling into a tight fist against his leg. “They didn’t believe me when I said I wasn’t working for anybody - they just kept hitting me over and over and over again. I couldn’t breathe, it hurt so bad.” That’s why his face was messed up so badly. Nancy couldn’t help her mouth from dropping open.

“When they brought us back together, I thought he-” Robin cut herself off, gasping as she suddenly realized she was crying. “Jesus, I. I’m sorry. I thought Steve was dead.” The last three words were mere whispers as if saying them to the air made it all more real. Nancy took her hand. Steve’s fist immediately unfurled to take her other, stretched beside the fire to grip with a fury she had never seen before. Robin continued to stare into the fire, unseeing.

“Did they beat you up, too?” Nancy asked. Robin let out a little breath through her nose in careful excess at the question.

“No,” She said quietly. “Well - they did. But not as bad as Steve. It was only in reaction to - when they dragged me in there, I was wearing my Scoops uniform. You know, it’s a pretty shitty outfit for espionage, yeah? And - my skirt - I thought they were going to - so kicked one of the guards in the face, and that’s when they beat me up. But they mostly left me alone.”

It was difficult to pin down exactly what Nancy felt at that exact moment. At first, it was cold horror at the steady, small implication of what Robin was saying; what those guards would’ve done to her, had she not been as ready to fight back or them not as lenient in letting her alone. But horror gave way quickly to a tidal wave of fierce, untamable anger. One that roared in Nancy’s chest and took over her whole being, face reddening with intensity and hand gripping Robin’s with white knuckles.

“Nance,” Robin chided. She looked away from the fire finally to make eye contact with Nancy. “It’s okay. I’m okay. You don’t need to break my hand.”

“Sorry,” Nancy choked out, releasing her grip only slightly. She was worried if she let go, Robin would float away - or worse, be dragged back down to the depths of the mall.

Steve’s face, in comparison, was a steady, heated anger - just as angry as Nancy, but none of the surprise. He’d known about this. Perhaps the entire time. Nancy desperately wished he’d said something, but on the same thought acknowledged it was all within Robin’s jurisdiction. At least she was telling her now.

“And then they drugged us,” Steve said. “And almost took off one of my fingers as a torture tactic.”

“Luckily Dustin and Erica came in then,” Robin finished, shaking her head and smiling despite the tears in her eyes. “The fucking idiots. I could’ve killed them if I had been able to stand up.”

“Horse tranquilizers,” Steve told Nancy, a similar smile on his face. The silence returned for a second or two before Steve was all but collapsing into Robin, pulling her into a tight hug that she returned whole cloth. Nancy stayed on the loveseat as the two best friends stood up for a better angle, gripping each other as if holding each other together. She rested a careful hand on Robin’s back and let her girlfriend fall against her shoulder, emotionally and physically exhausted, when the hug finally broke.

“I’m sorry,” Nancy said, because there was nothing else to say. Steve finished the rest of his smore and looked back into the fire. It seemed some of the shadows, while not entirely going away, had gotten a little lighter. As if the words they had spoken were floating off in the smoke. Robin looked about ready to fall asleep. “I wish I had been there.”

“I am so fucking glad you weren’t,” Robin said, voice muffled. She tucked her head against Nancy’s shoulder and shut her eyes. When Nancy managed to stop looking at the beauty that was her girlfriend in the firelight, she looked back at Steve.

“You can fall asleep, too,” Nancy offered. “I’ll keep watch.” Steve gave her a wiry grin and suddenly he was sixteen again, and the butterflies in her stomach awakened just enough for her to give him one in return.

“Thanks, Nance,” He finally decided, leaning back into his chair and tucking his hands into his jacket pockets. “It’s over, yeah? Like Rob said, it’s okay. We’re okay.”

“I don’t know what to do,” Nancy admitted, carding a careful hand through Robin’s choppy bangs. Steve’s smile grew as the fire winked. 

“You’re already doing something,” He said, gesturing to Robin and her prone position against Nancy’s shoulder. “You’re something, Nance. That’s enough. That’s more than enough.”

Nancy, once again, blamed her tears on the fire. Steve didn’t say a word about it.

[beep-beep-robin]

i need some steddie/ronance/platonic stobin christmas fic recs pleaaase share!!!