#remember when they made her robin just so they could kill her? yeah

[dcconfessions]

Lol I was the one who sent in the first Dick and Tim negativity but it looked like it started an avalanche (and my condolences to your taste, page mod).

Here's some controversial opinions for the other Robins to even out the negativity or whatever.

People really underestimate how much the UTRH movie salvaged Jason's character

Steph is painful to read because everyone has it out for her. Dixon's her best writer outside of BQM (who writes her like...That) and when Dixon's your best writer it's in the shitters

Maybe outside of R:SOB, none of Damian's post-resurrection comics were worth the ink and paper it took to print them (though that can be said for a majority of comics)

.

[hauntingblue]

ENIES LOBBY TIME!!!

Sanji's face here.... he Knows he is going to fuck him up

THAT IS SANJI??? 😨

Holding them in my hands again....

Sanji struck a nerve there akdjaoajkq

Increible trio btw.... look at the evidence

............ me next please 🙏🏻

That is love right there I can see it

What if we all killed ourselves (except usopp is telling her the opposite ajahkdhsakjd)

I need sanji to go insane like this more often.... after the timeskip it doesn't happen as much and I love to see him suffering

This is so funny.... there is no denying to her face card

"It's not like she actually wants to die" well yes she does, but no because you know she doesn't really. It is in a quantum state right now

Luffy is such a menace akdhaksjkaak

TELL EM!!!! THAT'S MY GIRL!!!!

Look at franky worrying about robin.... do not fret luffy is coming and he will NOT lose!!!!!

This is zoro remarking how usopps fear of being left behind makes no sense.... this is so good.....

This is so endearing but it also breaks my heart....

Who is that sultry binch... (I don't recall this attack AT ALL and i'm sure we never see it again)

They botched his bbl.... 😔😔😔

Luffy's face here... he was convinced she wanted to go with them but was compelled to do otherwise but no.... he thought wrong and he can't fight to her.... I've just been staring at this page for minutes like damn.

Nevermind.... this is something your mother would say "you want to die??? Just wash the dishes and you can do whatever you want later"

"If you wanna die, or whatever...." this is so good like he knows what he is doing.... he Knows.... look at her face. After knowing how luffy and ace were as kids this just makes more sense (oda didn't think about this i'm sure but damn does it fit) also the slight manipulation.... look at all of us we're already here and look how we all miss you already... you know that post about luffy being selfish but his selfishness is jusg kindness to others... yesh

Thinking about robin's cinderella lifestyle.... why did her mother leave her with that aunt and why didn't some archeologist take her in?? Because she doesn't complain about anything just like she doesn't respond when that mother accused her of hitting her child without reason... that's so fucked

Alright this is funny (and also true)... I'm sorry fellow women....

*Justin Bieber voice* I like your laugh... dereishi shishishi

SHE'S GONNA ASK HER MOM TO TAKE HER TO THE SEA WITH HER??? LIKE SHE DOES AFTER WITH LUFFY??? MY GOD!!! I just bursted into tears like I got punched in the nose I can't keep going ajdhakajk

I lied i can keep going... but head in my hands over this....

Find out how my emotional stability survives this arc in ennies lobby part 2. coming soon

[anthotneystark]

Well, if you're rough and ready for love (Honey, I'm tougher than the rest)

(edit: now on ao3!)

Eddie is suffering.

It’s hardly the first time, but it’s self-inflicted this time. At least it’s not going to physically almost kill him like the bats did.

Emotionally, sure, but not physically. That has to be some kind of win.

“Did you get Vecna’d? Do I have to get my trumpet? I don’t know if you can play Metallica on a horn, but I’ll try if you need me to.”

“Buckley, I would pay money to see you attempt it,” he says absently, his gaze never moving.

“Good, I could use the bonus.”

“Probably a good time to say I’ve only got Monopoly money.”

“Damn, there goes that plan.”

He hums an agreement, startling a moment later when a hand is suddenly blocking his view.

“Stop drooling, it’s not attractive.”

“Nothing about me is attractive to you.”

“Fair, but still. Ew,” she snorts.

“It’s not my fault, I can’t help it. He’s just so….” He doesn’t even have a word for it, so he just sighs.

“Who would have thought. Mr. Anti-Conformity drooling over Jock Extraordinaire. He’s wearing pastels. What have you become?”

“Shut up, he’s your platonic soulmate.”

“He is. And I love him. I just also know that he’s all sporty and preppy.”

“He can be as sporty as he wants as long as he keeps wearing those shorts he had on the other day.”

“Gross.”

“Even you can admit he looked good.”

“Sure, but you’re drooling again.”

He should be allowed a little drool. Steve had looked so biteable.

“He’s not even wearing shorts today, it’s too cold for that, doofus.” It was. Summer had well and truly turned into fall. Shorts had been replaced by jeans (except on the days Steve and Lucas played basketball, then the shorts came back out), polos more often than not were exchanged for sweaters, and by god, it was kissing him even more than the shorts and tank tops of summer had.

(This is without even considering the extreme number of shirts that Steve had sacrificed to become half shirts “for more air flow, because I can’t just walk around shirtless, obviously.” Because it was obvious. Showing his chest was too much, but the soft skin of his stomach, interrupted by the trail of dark hair vanishing under his waist band, wasn’t too much. Obviously.)

It made no sense. It shouldn’t have been worse with less skin showing. But it was because somehow, knowing that the soft knit of those sweaters was covering slowly paling skin, strong muscles and that beautiful, amazing layer of softness that rounded out hard edges…well, it completely ruined his train of thought until he couldn’t remember where he’d been going originally.

Worth it, just getting to imagine how Steve looked under his clothes.

“He’s worn this stuff before, why does it have you in a coma today?” Robin sighs, put upon even though it was her decision to sit with him.

“His hair.” Because that was the kicker today. Because Steve Harrington had never walked outside looking less than completely perfect.

Because Steve somehow managed to look amazing even roughed up and dirty.

Because Stevie was comfortable with himself and picked the clothes he liked and didn’t bother hiding scars that only proved how far he’d be willing to go to protect his loved ones and didn’t care about if he didn’t look perfect.

“He didn’t style it.”

“I can see how you’d get that impression, but I assure you he did.”

“What?!” That makes Eddie finally look at her, nearly falling over where he’s sat.

“Yeah. It’s just not hairspray. He’s trying something new.”

“It works for him.” The response is automatic. Because it’s true. Because poofed up and closer to god could only work on someone as pretty as Steve, and gunked up and water-logged could only work on someone as pretty as Steve, and bedhead could only look that good on someone as pretty as Steve.

Steve is just. So pretty.

But today, today it’s not firmly in place, soft even if it’s not going to move from it’s position. Today it’s not slicked back with water as he pops up from under it to splash one of the kids. Today it’s not half flat from where he slept on it, the same side he’ll leave pressed into Eddie’s shoulder if he’s not quite ready to start the day.

Today, it’s soft, curling around his ears, over his forehead, fluttering in the wind. It’s not the same kind of curly that his own hair is, the chaotic kind that if he tried to brush it, it’d eat the brush. It’s gentler, and he desperately wants to touch it.

“Seriously, I’m worried about your brain right now.”

“My brain is fine.”

“Close your mouth then.” Well, that’s embarrassing. He tosses a glare at her, and it’s just enough time to miss Steve heading their way. He does fall over where he’s sitting this time, but it’s so worth it because it makes Steve laugh.

He’d do an embarrassing amount of things to hear that laugh.

“You okay?” Steve asks, looking so fond and amused at Eddie’s antics that it makes his heart skip a beat.

It’s still surprising, having that look aimed at him, getting it from Steve.

“Fear not, Sir Stevington, I will survive,” he says, pushing himself up dramatically. Steve’s eyes crinkle as he snorts another laugh, and they both ignore Robin quietly bleching.

“Yeah? Good. I’d hate to see you get through everything just to get taken out by your own theatrics,” Steve says. Eddie doesn’t even have time to react – Steve’s smiling and that always slows him down – when his gorgeous, beautiful friend pulls off that pale green sweater and presses it into Eddie’s hands.

“Don’t get cold on me, alright? I saw you shivering,” he says, like he hasn’t just ruffled his own hair once more and completely distracted all of Eddie’s thoughts in the blink of an eye.

And then he’s gone, off to give another attempt at skateboarding (trying to follow Max’s instructions and letting her laugh at him when she hears him fall before she does whatever trick it is perfectly even without her sight), and Eddie is left standing there, watching that perfect, broad back covered by a too tight tee shirt.

“This is a whole new level of pathetic, I think.”

“Shup it,” Eddie says, then freezes, feels her shit-eating grin growing. “Shut up!” He groans.

She can laugh all she wants, he decides, pulling Steve’s sweater over his head. It’s warm with his body heat, smells like his soap and his cologne and him.

She can laugh, he’s got a beautiful boy to watch, one who looks at him with a promise of what’s to come, when the time is right.

[belokhvostikova]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐎𝐧𝐞 𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲 𝐅𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐎𝐮𝐭

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

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

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

𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐬, 𝐃𝐨 𝐍𝐨𝐭 𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Nothing!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh, boy, was he wrong.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?” You looked around confused. 

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

He was right. 

-

Robin Buckley confirmed it next. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What plan?” Robin interjected. 

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

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

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

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

“Ha!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Steve groaned. “Meaning?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I have personality!”

“No, you have hair!” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Uh-”

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

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

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

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

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

“Five!” 

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

-

Steve Harrington confirmed it next. 

And maybe was a little asshole about it. 

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

And who would want that? 

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

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

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

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

Steve raised a brow. “Really?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Yeah, this conversation would be going nowhere. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?” Robin prodded. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Okay, so?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

Who the hell were you two fooling?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Don’t say it!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Yeah, things in Hawkins, Indiana surely were weird. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?!” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Both parties scoffed, rightfully offended. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

“I have allergies!” Dustin sneezed. 

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

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

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

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

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

“Huh?” Dustin asked. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You make him feel such incredible things. 

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

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

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

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

“Robin.”

“Eddie.”

“Come on in.”

“I was going to.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Because I’m in love with Y/N!” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You do?”

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

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

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

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

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

[pinkmelodie]

The Red Means I Love You ❤︎

Summary: Jason Todd x fem!Reader. You and Jason used to date before you left to stay with the Titans. You both miss each other more than you’d like to admit, but stay out of contact. Fast forward to after he died, you encounter Redhood. Old feeling stir, and before you know it you’re bent over the motorcycle of someone you swore you’d leave in the past.

Warnings: Angst -> smut, 18+, p in v, unprotected s$x, mentions of death & terrorism.

A/N: This takes place right after s3ep2, right after they find out Redhood’s identity :3

You didn’t fully know what was happening; just that there were too many hostages in the building—all who would be killed if not evacuated immediately. You were about to run and help the rest of the titans get everyone as far away as possible before Kory pulled you aside.

You went to protest before she quickly interrupted you, “Go search for Jason.” 

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Uhm, what?”

“Look, I have a feeling he’ll listen to you better than anyone.” she said. “Jasons not someone who can be brought down by force. Shit, he came back from the fucking dead, you think he’s gonna let us beat this new…phase out of him?” 

You wanted to argue, but Kory wasn’t someone who was wrong often. She had a good point, and you knew you had to follow it.

“We’ve got this under control,” she assured, resting a reassuring but firm hand on your shoulder. “Go.”

You were skeptical, especially when you could see Gar in the distance shaking in his boots trying to convince an old lady to let him help her down the steps, and citizens clearly getting whiplash from Connor moving them to safety too fast. Your team was…definitely something, but with some hesitance you finally turned and ran in the direction of the one member you wanted to see.

…

“Jason!” You called out, your voice echoing through the barren alley. Gotham was creepy enough already without walking in some sketchy, busted up route in the pitch dark.

You kept calling but the only response you got was your own voice echoing back to you. You tried to scratch your mind for something to say that could persuade him, but you came up blank. Guilt ate at your conscience when you remembered that you hadn’t spoken to him for months before he died. 

To be honest, Jason never had anyone in his life to begin with. He told you that along with all his other secrets, and you still broke his heart. 

You stayed with the titans, thinking he was being naive for not wanting to. You didn’t think about the fact they never once tried to help him, or ever see him as more than an immature kid. They didn’t have the energy to help Jason through his issues so they just abandoned ship, sending him right back to Bruce and his horrible coping mechanisms.

As much as you wanted to be angry at Dick, or Kory or really anyone else for letting that happen, you had to face that you played your part.

Jason Todd died alone. He died feeling like no one would miss him, like he was a failure of a Robin and a failure of a titan. Because even after everything, all he wanted to do was prove himself.

So, yeah. Admittedly the first words you chose to say were not a good idea. Probably should’ve seen that one coming, but you never were too good at comforting him. was anyone?

“It didn’t have to be like this, you can still come back to the titans!” You tried to coax him, almost immediately regretting it. You quickly shut your mouth, tho the damage was already done. You just prayed he wasn’t here—he didn’t need to be provoked into blowing your brains out. 

Only when your muscles stopped tensing and you thought you got lucky, a voice you couldn’t even recognize rumbled above you. It shot ice up your veins and you would’ve frozen in place if you weren’t so adiment on seeing him again.

“Still taking about the titans? Why am I surprised.” He taunted, tilting his head in a gesture so familiar it made your heart ache. When you spun around you were met with someone you couldn’t believe was really Jason. He was standing on some rusted fire escape, a steel red mask boring right through you. 

You tensed, but not out of fear. No, you could never be scared of Jason, not the same nerd who woke up early to make you breakfast or who secretly wore reading glasses. 

You debated messaging him for months after your breakup, paragraphs on paragraphs you never sent. You had so much to say to him before, so why now did your mind go blank?

It was hard to see what he was feeling with the mask, but you could tell he was expecting a snarky remark back. When you just stood there dumbfounded, he sighed. “Look, I’m done trying to prove myself to them. To Bruce, to everyone! I don’t have to be some fucking nobody y/n, and neither do you.”

Now that made you snap out of whatever trance you were in. “‘and neither do you’? What are you trying to do, advertise me the life of crime?”

He groaned, “I don’t know why I ever tried with you. The titans are just a bunch of fucked up people acting like one big happy family, is that what you wanted? Are you happy you made that choice?” He sneered.

There was malice in his tone, but it wasn’t real. he didn’t feel angry anymore, just betrayed.

He would’ve splayed his heart out for you on a silver platter if you asked, just for you to turn your back on him. You followed him in his dreams, haunted him every time he smelt a familiar perfume, even appeared behind his shut eyelids while the life drained out of him. You were a part of him, and from what he knew you’d never looked back when you stormed out that day.

That’s why it shocked him when tears started to well in your eyes. God, your eyes—the ones he would subconsciously buy clothes of in the same colour. “You could’ve came with me,” you whispered. 

Your meek tone broke something in him. His shoulders relaxed and in a blink he leaped down, knees bending upon landing on the hard ground in front of you. Seeing him like this; the mask concealing his identity, various weapons strapped to his thighs and seemingly more toned than the last time you saw him—you could understand why everyone was on edge.

He stood there motionless, a silent and intimidating presence before you. You both stood there in unbearable silence until finally, he lifted his mask off.

His features were lit beautifully by the dim street light, eyes glinting ever so slightly. He looked exhausted—more troubled now, but you knew, despite everything, this was Jason. Your Jason, not who he was manipulated into.

“No, I couldn’t have.” he muttered begrudgingly, “they made that very clear.”

“So what, you just become a terrorist? Is that your idea of solving your problems?”

His fists clenched in barely concealed anger. “Bruce couldn’t save Gotham, so he abandoned it. I’ll be the one to fix it.” 

“By running around in a new suit and planting bombs everywhere? Real great strategy.” You rolled your eyes, but started to blush when you stared at him too long in the plated suit that fit him perfectly. You quickly caught yourself ogling and looked away, assuming he wouldn’t catch the red tinge on your face. 

You don’t know how you ever thought he wouldn’t notice. Of course he noticed, it’s Jason Todd.

For fucks sake, the guy noticed every detail about you. The way you’d avoid eye contact when nervous, the pace of your blinking quickening when you were lost in thought, the slight heighten of your voice when you were excited about something. All these tiny things and you thought he just wouldn’t notice the way you eyed him down all red in the face?

Come on, you were basically writing your true feelings out to him in big, bold… ..red letters…

and it’s not like Kory ever specified exactly what to do once you found him… .. .

So that’s how you ended up bent against his motorcycle in some busted up alleyway, pussy spread open on his dick.

You gasped and clawed pointlessly at his covered back; nails clinking uselessly against the metal armour of his suit. 

Your own suit was pulled off just enough to get access to your cunt, panties pulled to the side so he could plunge his thick cock into you.

He was groaning more than he used to, and you could swear you even heard him whine. His pace was ruthless, thrusts messy but coordinated. He kept trying to push further inside you, pressing his body as close to you as possible like you would vanish at any moment. 

“Fuckfuckfuck-“ he rambled. Death heightened all of his senses—made things have so much more of an impact on him. Maybe he just missed you too much, or maybe he let himself forget how good you feel.

To be fair, you were far worse off than him. You would’ve alerted everyone in Gotham if he wasn’t covering your mouth with a gloved hand, though it’s not like anyone here would bat an eye to screaming.

“My poor baby just been lonely, s’that it?”He teased, manhandling you by your hips to meet his harsh thrusts. 

“Nobody to fill up this pretty hole like I do, such a shame,” he pouted in faux sympathy, as if he wasn’t balls deep at the moment.

“I’m back now. Fuck the titans, I’ve always treated you better, haven’t I?” He’s fucking your ability to form coherent words right out of your throat, but he knows your answer when you squeeze around him.

“Jay!” you moaned into his palm. Your cunt was squelching embarrassingly loud with each thrust, thighs shaking so hard you for sure would’ve fallen over if he wasn’t holding you up. Every drag of his cock in you hit the perfect spots, just like he remembered you love.

“You don’t even care that I’m red hood, do you?” he asked, his tone full of confidence. “Nah, you don’t. So fucking wet, does my suit get you off princess?” 

He moved his hand to play with your clit, getting it soaked with your fluids. You were too cock-drunk to lie bite back, just nodding desperately and mewling out something akin to a yes.

He smirked. “Pussys sucking me in the same too, fuck- I missed this. I missed you.”

He acted cocky when he was fucking you like this because it’s the only way he was sure you even wanted to be around him. Not much to complain about when his big dick is ravaging you, no?

Deep down he always felt right at home with you. He wouldn’t admit it, but he would give up red hood for you. He’d give up anything for you, actually. Nothing mattered as long as you were with him. And he wasn’t letting you go this time.

With the ministrations on your clit and him pounding into you, it wasn’t a surprise when that knot in your stomach came undone quickly. Especially not with how many failed orgasms you had with your fingers, pretending it was him.

Ever attentive, he noticed immediately. “You gonna come, baby? Try not to get any on the new suit.” He winked, as if you were gonna squirt for him. (You have, many times.)

The cherry on top was when he unexpectedly flipped his mask back down and leaned in to whisper right into your ear with that deep voice, “come for me”

And you were gone. You came with a cry of his name, eyes rolling back and toes curling. Your pussy gushed all over his dick, forming a white ring around it that you could see every time he slammed his hips.

Seeing your pretty face so euphoric was what sent him over the edge, and grudgingly he pulled out, pearly white cum shooting all over your stomach.

You spent a minute regaining your breath while he pressed gentle kisses all over your throat. He only let up when you whined at the slight pain of the pressure on your newly forming hickeys. He tucked himself back into his pants and re-adjusted his belt. You were wondering if he planned on just leaving until he took his coat off and wrapped it around you.

He moved you so you were set down properly on the back of his motorcycle and then stepped on. You instinctively laid against his back, resting your head on his shoulder and he admired you with pure adoration.

“Wrap your arms around me babe,” he hummed, affectionately rubbing your thigh that was pressed to his.

When your brain finally caught up to what was happening you gave him a confused look.“Wha- wait! Where are we going?” 

He looked at you like you were crazy for even questioning it. “Home,” he laughed, “what? Did you think death was gonna do us part, baby?”

[roturo]

Written All Over Your Face dick grayson x reader

→ summary: “Well, you know what they say, Love and Hate are two sides of a very, very thin line. For what I can see, you have a pent up sexual frustration written all over your face Dick.”

→ warnings: SMUT. p in v, unprotected sex (don't be dumb and wrap it), enemies to lovers, heroe!reader, breeding kink, bulge kink ¿?, not proof-read, possessive behavior, begging...

words: 2k

TUMBLR IS BASED ON A REBLOG SYSTEM. PLEASE REBLOG MY WORK. THANK YOU. ENJOY. SMUT BELOW THE CUT.

Being a heroe wasn't easy. Neither being considered a competition for Nightwing. The Ex-Robin. The Dick Grayson.

Both being ¨super-heroes¨ with no powers brought many controversial articles between you two, not only at the Gotham-Batman times, but also now at the new Titans times.

You never thought seeing him again and his boyish smile and attitude. No wonder why he has many girls falling for him, not only as Nightwing, but also as his real identity. But this rough times between the heroes, made the destiny bringing you together again.

Both of you had mutual friends, and when Dawn invited you to meet the new Titans, and asked you for help to train them, you never thought of seeing him again, neither of both of you training teenage kids how to become high quality-trained super heroes.

¨Sorry.¨ Were the last words you heard from Dawn, when she left you with bird boy at the training room, giving you an apologetic smile.

God bless her natural charm and being the trusting friend she is because you couldn't hit her face right now with the rage you're feeling.

¨Hi!¨ A green-haired boy said to you, he had the same, maybe not as pretty, boyish smile like Grayson. ¨Hello...?¨

¨Gar.¨ He told you, not putting down the smile.

With just a nod and a not so happy smile, your eyes moved into a purple-haired girl, who just smiled at you and said her name. ¨Rachel.¨ She hit the boy next to her with her elbow, murmuring his name.

¨Jason.¨ He said, ¨Is this your girlfriend Dick? Because she's pretty good looking for a guy like you. But yeah, what she's doing here anyways?��

Oh. Yeah. Bird boy. He's here.

¨Yeah Grayson, what’s going on?¨ Completely ignoring the fact Dick was about to answer Jason’s question with furrowed brows and you obviously knowing why you're here since Dawn explained you. ¨And no, i'm not his girlfriend.¨ You looked at Jason with a smile which changed into a fake smile when your eyes returned to Dick. ¨He wishes.¨ You said, your head turning to the side, obviously trying to make him angry. At which he only scoffed, knowing you well enough to know what you were trying. ¨Yeah number two, maybe we can just pass at me explaining you why you´re here.¨

Number two? He WISHES.

¨I know why am I here. I don´t know if your little brain remembers you made Dawn bring me here to help you train this kids.¨ You got closer to him, not breaking eye contact. ¨And number two? pfft, If you were number one, maybe you wouldn't have been replaced by new Robin here.¨

That got him exactly where you wanted him. He might seem like a strong and rough guy, but behind all that image of big boy, there’s nothing else but trauma.

You couldn’t help but notice how his jaw clenched at the small giggle Jason let when you mentioned Dick being replaced. Side-eyeing him, Jason stopped. Dick sighed trying to calm himself down.

“First. I didn’t know Dawn brought you here, she just told me about bringing the perfect person to help me train them, I was not expecting you.” You could tell he was still angry at the remark, so he wanted to correct you. “Second. I didn’t got replaced. I left Wayne by choice of mine.”

“And third. I’m not longer Robin.”

It got into a really tense vibe between you and Dick trying to kill each-other with just your eyes, everyone in silence, clearly uncomfortable at this new encounter.

“Can both of you stop eye-fucking eachother and can we finally start the training?” Jason said, trying to bring both of you back to earth.

That clearly caught both of your attention to what Jason said, clearly annoyed at the wrong remark of how both of you were looking at each-other. “We’re not “eye-fucking” each-other Jason, stop getting into other’s people conversations.” With that, Dick started grabbing everything for the training of today, moving on. Jason just raised his arms at the air, (like when they’re showing they’re not armed), with a small smirk on his face.

“Well, you know what they say, Love and Hate are two sides of a very, very thin line. For what I can see, you have a pent up sexual frustration written all over your face Dick.”

That brought a hard, and big laugh to your face, how could Jason say that? This kids don’t even respect their “leader” This was going to be a funny training.

After what seemed like 1 hour of training, and getting to know the kids, you could get which were the flaws and weaknesses. Maybe you couldn’t understand quite well Rachel’s powers, but some time will do it.

You asked Gar where you could sleep the night, since it was already getting late and your most likely staying some days here, you'll also need some extra clothes at least for today.

Gar told you to stay in the spare room next's to Dick's, great, what a nice neighbor you have. He also gave you some clothes you could use tonight, tomorrow you could go back to your place and get some clothes, your skincare.... and I guess your super-hero suit.

When going out of the bathroom after a long shower (which you deserved), Dick was standing there, shirtless, all sweaty, and just with some grey sweatpants on... he looks.... nice, yeah. Obviously annoyed but when he saw you, his face turned into... panic?

He doesn't know what's happening to him right now, might be stress he needs to get relieved, yeah, sure, that's the reason he feels his pants getting tighter every-second he keeps looking at you right now.

¨Are you okay bird-boy why´re you just static over here, I know you have problems, but this a new one.¨ You looked up and down at Dick's figure, obviously checking him out, not like he needs to find out, noticing he´s quite handsome, not like you would tell him also, he's hot, and he knows it.

¨That´s... That´s my shirt¨ Was all that Dick could say, well, shit.

You knew the t-shirt had a distinct laundry soap scent which remind you of someone, and maybe a pint of perfume, but who could blame you?! Might be Gar's or Jason's!

¨And those... are my boxers.¨ double shit.

You could see he was obviously blushed and you're sure you are too, but what a coincide. It's like you could hear Rachel, Gar and Jason's laughing at the both of you.

¨Well... do want me to give them back at you?¨ You broke the tense silence, trying to take your, his, shirt-off, completely forgetting you're in front of him, you needed to find a way out of here.

¨No, no, no, stop! Leave it there, then you give it back to me.¨ He assured you, grabbing your hands and pulling them down with your, his? t-shirt. ¨And it looks better on you anyways.¨ That's all he said before speed entering to the bath-room.

¨Hey Dick!, Wait.¨ To say you couldn't feel the wetness of your pussy going out and asking for some relief, would be considered a crime. ¨What do you ne-¨ You cut him off by entering the bath-room closing the door in the process, both of your lips connecting in a perfect symphony like they were made for each-other. He left a sudden whine at the loss of the soft touch of your lips.

¨Oh.¨ Was all he could say, you don't understand what happened to you, it wasn't definitely a normal behavior between you two. ¨Oh my god. I'm so sorry Dick, I don't know what happened to me, i'm-¨ You couldn't finish the last sentence when you felt his lips in yous again. A little hesitant this time, he stops, unsure of his actions, but he lose it all. ¨Do it again.¨

That's all he needed to continue kissing you, hands caressing you neck, positioning them as a chocking posture, later going to trace your jaw as he continues kissing you.

He started giving you kisses trailing down your chin, making you moan at the specific spot that made your legs shake, he started leaving love bites between your chest, later going down on you, pulling your t-shirt upwards, getting between your breasts and marking them as his.

¨Please Dick... Please make me feel good.¨ It´s like something got into him when his hands started roaming your body like crazy, pulling your shirt off, your hand reaching his sweatpants, and later his cock, noticing he has no underwear under neat it. ¨It's like you were ready for this bird-boy, ah!-¨ Even when you try to tease him, he finds a way to tease you back even in a better way, his fingers playing with your nipple had you giddy and trembling. ¨Be a good girl if you want me to fuck you.¨

All you could do is nod and start stroking his hard cock, already leaking pre-cum which made the stroking easier, playing with the head had him as a moaning mess.

“Fuck, wait — shit. Mm— fuck. Wh-where did you learn to do that?” He left a whiny moan at the lose of your touch.

“Well, the noises you make are a pretty good indication of how you like it.” He man-handled you, turning you around, making you see yourself at the mirror.

“…God you sound so fucking cocky right now and it’s turning me on even more.”  He ripped apart the boxers you were wearing. ¨Don't worry, I have plenty more.¨ Fuck him and his fucking pretty smile.

With no more waiting, he positioned himself, and started thrusting into you. He fits just right, and could touch all the places you couldn't reach.

“Let me know if I’m doing anything wrong, okay? I want to make you feel as good as possible.” Even when he's fucking your brains out, he finds a way to be that kind and nice guy he is.

“O-Okay.”  Was all you could tell him, before & after some moans and whines from both of you, one specific thrust had you seeing stars.

His hand lingered down your tummy and he moaned at the bump he could feel, when he was going in and out with his thrusts. ¨Oh baby, I'm going to make you mine, fill you up.¨

He started playing with your clit, it had you crazy all the feelings of his body, his thrusts, him.

¨´You´re so good for me, all for me... 'm gonna' fill you up with my babies, 'm gonna make you a mommy, full of my cum every-day just to make sure.¨

That was all you needed to cum, with just some last thrusts he came inside you too, fulfilling his promise of keeping you full of his cum. He waited for you to calm down, before he inserted two of his fingers, recollecting the cum that was falling out your hole, inserting it inside you again, making you moan at the sudden intrusion.

He got the tub ready, and got you inside it, in front of him while he cleaned your sore body while kissing it.

¨I can't believe it took me all this years to realize how I feel about you.¨ Your heart was anxious at how your confession would be received.

¨Doesn't take an idiot to figure out. You couldn't tell I was and I am in love with you because you were too busy trying to beat all that rivalry. I was in love the moment you kicked my ass for the first time.¨

You chuckled at the confession, and laid your head on his shoulder where you could see his dumb smirk. ¨You have that stupid smirk on your face again, can't you have a serious conversation with me?, can we fight again?¨

He laughed at your comment ¨Not a possible thing for me when you look this cute all marked by me and confessing your feelings for me.¨ The small pecks he started leaving on your neck and back had you giggling.

¨I love you.¨

¨I love you too, bird-boy.¨

[thisapplepielife]

Written for @steddiesongfics.

Fan Mail

June Prompt: Song By Blondie | Word Count: 876 | Rating: T | Characters: Steve, Robin, Eddie | CW: Language | Tags: Future Fic, Canon Divergence, No Upside Down, Steve "I'm a Big Fan" Harrington, Platonic Stobin

For a song by Blondie, I picked Fan Mail.

The crumpled ball of paper hits the wall, banking off and falling straight into the trash can. At least his aim is good, even if his writing isn't. Steve looks up at the poster over his desk, and sighs. He's fucking pathetic. Seriously, is his plan really that he's gonna write Eddie "The Freak" Munson with some, what, fan mail? Yeah, that's a great fucking plan. 

Hi, remember me? We went to high school together. I was a bit of a dick, but I'm hoping you've forgotten that. You're pretty hot up on that stage. Call me.

Yeah, right. 

He's definitely aborting this mission. It was a stupid idea, anyway.

A few weeks later, Steve pulls a stack of letters out of the mailbox. Bill, bill, junk, junk, bill…and then his stomach drops with dread. A red envelope, with the Corroded Coffin logo drawn in the corner, where the return address should be.

What the fuck? No, seriously, what the fuck?

Steve takes it to the kitchen counter and sits it down, filled with dread. He didn't lose his mind and actually mail one of those goddamn letters, right? Surely he'd remember doing something as unhinged as that. 

He wants to open it, but he also really doesn't want to know what's inside.

So, it sits. For an hour, a day, a week.

It sits until Robin swings by one day, and picks it up like the Nosey Nellie she is, "What's this, dingus?"

Steve reaches for it, trying to grab it from her grubby little hands, "Nothing!"

"It doesn't sound like it's nothing," she crows, and holds it behind her back. 

"Robin, give it to me," he warns, low and pissy. If he opens it, it's gonna be on his own terms. And that's a big if. As long as he leaves it alone, he'll never have to know what's inside. Good, bad or ugly.

"Why haven't you opened it? Maybe it's important," she says, "maybe it's from Eddie."

And he knows. He suddenly knows exactly what's happened here, and he's gonna kill her.

"What the fuck did you do?" he asks, eyes narrowed.

"What you were too chickenshit to," she says, and she presses the envelope to his chest.

"Goddamnit, Robin," Steve says, feeling embarrassed and sick, "they weren't, I wasn't, ready."

Robin's eyes soften, "I know you, Steve. You'd never be ready."

She's not wrong, she's not, but still. She shouldn't have done this to him. It could be classified as a hate crime, he's pretty sure. And maybe even tampering with the U.S. mail. That's a federal offense. He could have her prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law.

"Quit daydreaming about my demise, and just open it. Then you can kill me if you need to," she says, and he nods, sliding onto the stool at the counter. 

He slides his thumb under the flap of the envelope and tugs, ripping it open, pulling out the letter. When he unfolds it, two tickets fall onto the counter and Robin reaches for them, and he just lets her. 

And he reads. 

It's short, and funny, and not as embarrassing as he'd feared. Eddie seems happy to have heard from him, and the two tickets are an invitation. It seems casual, but Steve knows better.

Holy shit.

He's actually made a fucking pass at Eddie Munson, and he seems to have made one back? What is happening right now? For real. 

"Well?" Robin asks, bouncing on the balls of her feet, impatient. 

"He invited me, us, to their show in Indy next month."

"See? I told you it'd be fine, dingus," she says, and he nods.

He spins on his chair, to face her full-on, "What version did you send?"

Steve suddenly needs to know how embarrassed he needs to be right now.

"The least stalkerish one, I swear," she says, "and I included a note from me, so he'd know, you weren't exactly aware it was being mailed."

That's probably more embarrassing, he thinks. Like he was just sitting there, pining, like a fool, and his best friend had to intervene.

Eddie must think he's the fucking freak, now. 

The tickets are good. Really good, Steve has suddenly realized, as they stand right next to the stage. They aren't front and center, more off to the side, but still. Right there. Front row. Where Eddie will definitely be able to see them, and know they came, if he just looks down.

And he does. 

As soon as he hits the stage, he comes right to their side, squats down, and reaches out to hand Steve something. Steve's frozen, eyes locked on Eddie's, so it's Robin's hand that reaches out and takes the folded up piece of paper he's offering.

Once Eddie's gone from in front of them, taking his spot center stage and getting the show started, Robin is unfolding the piece of paper. 

Steve leans over her shoulder, and it's dark. Nearly too dark to read, but it's fan mail. Right back. Talking about how he'd always liked looking at him, too, back in high school.

That he'd like to look at him a little bit more after the show tonight, if Steve is interested.

Oh.

Steve is definitely interested.

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @steddiesongfics and follow along with the fun! 🎶

[steddieas-shegoes]

if i could turn back time

for @steddieholidaydrabbles prompt 'time travel' rated t wc: 997 cw: mention of canonical character death tags: fix-it, light angst, happy ending, first kiss

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

"I'm telling you Robin, this is probably when things went wrong!"

"And I'm telling you, things probably went wrong in the 60s! This isn't gonna change anything!"

Eddie shouldn't have been listening by the door of the RV, especially not when they thought he was hiding in the back, but he couldn't help his curious nature.

Curiosity killed the cat, but it entertained the banished.

"What are you gonna do, huh? Stay with him and Dustin? Sacrifice yourself? I'm not letting you do that!"

Eddie's brows raised.

"No, but with the three of us, we can remember to close everything off this time so none of us have to sacrifice ourselves. It keeps us all safe."

The voice suddenly stopped and Eddie barely managed to get away from the door before it was flying open and Steve was storming inside.

Alone.

Robin must have gone to help the kids and Nancy with their weapons.

Steve sat down on the couch, put his head in his hands, and groaned.

"Alright there, big boy?"

Steve jumped, his face turning to see Eddie awkwardly standing in the doorway to the back.

"Fine, yeah. Just stressed," Steve relaxed a bit, though Eddie could still see his white knuckles against his knees and his jaw clenching.

"You and Robin having a lover's quarrel out there?" Eddie asked, knowing damn well they weren't together.

He didn't have to know to know that Robin wasn't interested in Steve for the same reason Eddie wasn't interested in Robin.

"We just don't see eye to nose on some things," Steve shrugged. "She knows I'm right, she's just stubborn."

Ignoring the eye to nose comment would go down as one of the most impressive feats of Eddie's life, but he decided to focus on finding out what they were actually arguing about.

"She thinks you're gonna get hurt?" Eddie asked, moving over to the couch.

"More like killed."

Eddie couldn't hide the flinch at his harsh words.

"None of us are gonna die, man. We've got a plan."

"Yeah," Steve sighed. "I'd feel better if I was with you and Dustin though."

"I won't let anything happen to him," Eddie said softly.

He knew how much Steve cared for Dustin, felt that same protectiveness for the kid.

"It's not him I'm worried about."

"I'll be fine. I mean, even if not, it's not like we're friends. You'll all be fine," Eddie shrugged.

Maybe a part of him actually believed that, believed that everyone would go about their days if something happened to him. He didn't think anyone but Wayne would actually miss him, and he'd be fine eventually.

Steve was blinking at him.

"No, we won't." Steve's hand grabbed his knee, squeezing. "You think you don't matter to us, but you do. You have no idea how much you mean to everyone. When something happens to you, none of us will ever be the same."

Eddie's mouth felt dry, and then it hit him what Steve said.

"When?"

Steve's eyes widened.

"I meant if!"

"Steve. Does this magic girl you keep talking about know something? Did someone talk to her?" Eddie stood up and started pacing. "I know I said it'd be fine if something happened to me, but I'd rather not know. And now I'm thinkin' you might know something I don't and maybe Robin does too and-"

Steve grabbed his face between his hands, his grip almost hard enough to leave a bruise.

"Eds, I promise you, I am not letting anything happen to you. Not this time."

Eddie had a million questions, but as he looked into Steve's haunted eyes, he decided to wait.

He decided to trust Steve Harrington.

"Okay. Nothing's gonna happen to me."

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

When Eddie made it back through the gate in the trailer, a few bruises on his shoulders and arms, but alive, Steve was there.

Looking at him in a way Eddie couldn't quite recognize.

And then touching him in a way Eddie wouldn't have expected.

His hands were everywhere, feeling along his arms and neck and shoulders, taking inventory of his bruises and cuts, the one bite mark he had on his side.

"You're okay?" He asked breathlessly.

"I'm okay." Eddie responded, just as breathless. "Steve. I'm okay."

His tone made Steve stop what he was doing and look in his eyes.

"Fuck, Eddie," Steve fell into him, pushing his face into his neck, breathing Eddie in as Eddie wrapped his arms around him.

"You gonna tell him or should I?" Robin asked from behind them.

Steve just whimpered in response and Eddie felt a wetness against his skin.

"Are you crying?" he asked, trying to push him away to see if he was okay, but Steve just held him harder.

"He's just happy you didn't die this time," Robin said.

"This time?"

"Yeah. You died the first time and it destroyed him. When we woke up back here, he spent so long trying to focus on you living, he forgot we had a real job to do. No offense."

"None taken," Eddie said. "Stevie, you gotta breathe."

Steve had started gasping for air against him, his whole body shaking as he came down from the adrenaline.

It took ten minutes, a cleared out room, and gentle hands massaging his back for Steve to calm down.

But Eddie sat with him and held him, talked him through whatever he was feeling and assuring him that he was okay.

"We all made it, sweetheart," Eddie whispered against the top of his head.

Steve stiffened in his arms, then instantly relaxed.

"Was it..." Eddie let out a long breath. "Before. When I died. Were we something?"

Steve shook his head and Eddie tried not let the disappointment be visible.

"We weren't yet. But I think we would have been. I wanted to be. Didn't get the chance."

"But this time you do."

Steve's lips pressed against his collar, lingering for a minute before he pulled back.

"This time we do."

[nicole-alt-delete]

It was a hot summer day in Hawkins and the kids had dragged them into helping with some game once again. Eddie was more than thrilled to help, Robin had managed to escape with Nancy on a "supply run" and Steve was currently taking orders from Max, the only one of them who'd remembered to say please.

Eddie wasn't really sure what the end goal was but it seemed like they were one step away from LARPing- just changed the name so Max and El would still play. He was helping Will by carving this big fuck-all stick into a cane for him when the gravel behind him crunched under someone's feet, and a second later Steve was saying "Hey, I'm borrowing this- Thanks-" Not stopping for the answer before Eddie felt a tug at his back pocket.

He instantly whipped around, spluttering, "Absolutely not-"  and before Steve could even take a step he was fiercely gripping his black bandana taut between them like the world's saddest game of tug of war. Steve loosened his grip a little, making a point of not tugging on it or ripping it, just looking confused as he waited for an explanation.

Eddie blushed for a moment, realizing the position he'd put himself in, how protective he got over a little piece of fabric. He stammers for a second, "I- you can't just- I need that man,"

Steve quirks an eyebrow at him, clueless. "What do you mean you need it? It's been in your pocket every day and I've only seen you actually wear it once. C'mon just for today- the girls don't have any hair ties and I need to put my hair up, it's killing me,"

He sighs a little, fully aware there's nothing reasonable he could say to Steve here. He very much cannot tell him that he *needs* it just in case some hot guy walks by and happens to know what it means. That's ridiculous- especially when the guy he most wants to see it is the one tugging it away from him in the first place. Steve has no idea what it means and Eddie doesn't expect him to but it still drives him insane thinking that it could happen.

Alternatively, the idea of Steve putting his hair back with Eddie's bandana drives him a little insane too.

So he blushes, sighs, and lets go of it. Points at Steve firmly, "You better give that back Harrington, or I swear-"

Steve smiles and starts walking backwards with it, already rolling it up into a hairband as he cuts him off, "Yeah, I know Eds, you can hold it against me forever, promise,"

He runs off back to the other kids and Eddie shakes his head at him, flustered and annoyed, and forgetting himself until Will clears his throat behind him.

He doesn't say anything but he's smiling and making this little face as he looks away from Eddie, like he knows something.

"So uh. The stick?"

"Right- yes- stick- cane- it's a cane for a mighty wizard, let's go,"

--

He didn't think he'd notice it so much, but the empty feeling in his pocket is driving him crazy. He'd been wearing that stupid thing since he learned it was a thing people do- a stolen trip up to the city on a bus he snuck onto, a weekend as a runaway before he sucked it up and went back home.

Someone had called him queer and he turned expecting a fight only to see a group of freaks who stood out more than himself. They had smiled and asking him why he was all alone, and been worried. One wanted to make sure Eddie hadn't been kicked out. Another wrapped her scarf around him, and before he knew it he was in the back of a gay bar with people he'd never met and felt like he could tell anything to.

The idea of proudly wearing something that singled him out- but only to the right people- made his hart light up. It was like a new language, like thieves' cant, something secret and magic.

He'd spent hours asking about colors and being confused and rightfully embarrassed by more than a few of the answers. Some sounded better than others, some made his face flush. At the end of the day he felt better than he had in ages and he had the courage to go back home to Wayne.

Before he got back on a bus he stopped into a second hand shop and grabbed the first black bandana he could find. He debated the whole ride home which side to put it on. When he walked back up to the trailer door ready to apologize, it hung proudly out of his back left.

--

Eddie had let Steve wear it home and it was killing him, but they had stayed out late and he half forgot anyways, and Steve's hair did look pretty cute pushed back like that. Steve had promised to give it back anyways, and Eddie trusted him fully.

He just also really, really, really wanted it back as soon as possible.

So for once he got up before noon (barely- just after eleven,)  and made his way to Family Video and hopped Steve had left it in his car or something so that he could get it back then and there.

What he wasn't expecting was to walk in and see Steve bent over behind the counter with the damn thing hanging out of his right pocket, as if he had any goddamn idea what that meant.

Eddie nearly had a heart attack and was thankful the store was empty like it always was so he could sprint over, jump the counter and yank the thing out of his pocket immediately.

"What do you think you're doing wearing it like that?!"

Steve had barely registered the jingle from the door, let alone Eddie launching himself at him, and was thoroughly surprised to say the least, nearly knocking over a display as he reacted.

"Hey!  Jesus man- you can't be- what's the big deal??? That's exactly how you wear it all the time- I was just keeping it safe til I saw you again,"

He stared at Eddie properly confused, a little on guard still from how suddenly he had leapt over and how worked up he seemed.

Eddie took a deep breath and sighed, folding the bandana up in his hands and just holding it for a moment, debating what to tell Steve.

After a second Steve makes this little head movement like 'well? go on?' clearly waiting for an explanation and Eddie rolls his eyes and sighs.

"It's- Look, Stevie, you can't wear it like that, you're not- I mean it's. It's like- a symbol, okay?"

Steve leans on the counter and frowns, confused.

"A symbol?"

"Yes- yeah, like- like those little cross necklaces moms wear or Dustin's star wars shirts. They're symbols....for the same kind of people to pick up on,"

He struggles with the words, trying hard to insinuate just enough without giving it all away, still hesitantly afraid of Steve's reaction.

But Steve just looks thoughtful. Nodding a little, putting a finger to his lip as the gears turn.

"So- okay, what's it symbolize then?"

He'd been hoping Steve wouldn't make it that far.

"It's- uh. It's really not..."

Steve stares, "Man I'm not gonna judge you- just- why's it such a big deal that I can't wear it like that too?"

Eddie can't help but laugh, "If anyone who knows what it means saw YOU with it- you would- no, you'd set yourself on fire I'm sure of it,"

He shakes his head, holding the bandana tighter in his fists.

Steve only frowns though, "Eds, what's it mean? If you don't tell me I'll just get my own and wear it until someone else does,"

Eddie looks mildly terrified by the idea but laughs at it all the same. "No- No, god do not do that Harrington-"

"Then tell me,"

"I can't, it's really-"

"Eddie, I'm gonna steal it back,"

And he does, reaches for the bandana in his hands as Eddie pulls away, the two of them starting to bicker and wrestle for it, each equally stubborn until the point that Steve actually does manage to grab it.

The tension gets to him and Eddie can't help it anymore, he just blurts, "It means I'm gay, Steve!"

It makes Steve pause and Eddie uses the moment to grab it back and quickly shove it in his back pocket again, blushing furiously and hoping Steve doesn't take it too badly.

Steve's mouth opens a little to say something in response, but the door jingles and his head snaps to it, Eddie instantly hitting the floor because he's still behind the counter where he most certainly should not be.

A man comes in and asks where the new releases are and Steve happily helps him, leaving Eddie plenty of time to crawl out from behind the counter and sneak out. He almost gets away with it too, but the door opens again, jingles and Steve twists his head.

"Eddie, wait- We're not done- I'll talk to you about this later!"

Eddie doesn't look back at him as he runs out the door past Robin who had been bringing lunch back for her and Steve. She tries to greet him but he just blurts "Gotta go, Buckley," and darts past.

If he'd looked back he would have noticed how red Steve's face was. Part 2

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

Yet another draft pick. 😊

Nancy was with Jonathan and Argyle getting high when Eddie came upon them in Argyle's yellow pizza van. He decided to join, seeing how it was Nancy's first time getting high, and he was so curious. Well, she accidentally let slip to him that Steve totally likes to hold hands during sex. Now, that's all Eddie could think about. It's caused Eddie to give Steve some pretty intense stares and caused him to distance himself from Steve. Unfortunately, Steve took that to mean he hated him. . .

Eddie had let himself into Steve’s house one afternoon to hang out and to explain himself. He was finally going to tell Steve how he felt. Yes! Steve was home. His car was in the driveway, and there were signs that Robin was there, but no one was downstairs. Eddie frowned and started climbing the stairs. That's when he heard it. The sound of someone crying. He moved closer, and he could hear the sound of Steve crying on the other side of the bathroom. Okay, who did Eddie have to kill?

"I just don't know what I did, Robin, to make him hate me. I mean, you've seen the way he looks at me, right? He hates me," Steve said, sobbing.

Eddie scowled. Yeah, he was definitely killing someone. Who the fuck could hate an angel like Steve Harrington?

"Yeah, I've seen it and I don't fucking get it. What else do you have to do for him to like you? Carrying him out of hell? You did that. Nurse him back to health? Fucking check. Steve, there's nothing else you can do. If Eddie hates you, then it's on him, not on you because you did everything you could," Robin said. "It's not your responsibility anymore."

Fuck, they were talking about him? Eddie closed his eyes and cursed his face. It was because of the staring and it must have looked like. . .well, that he was glaring at him. It didn't help that Eddie needed some time to put together what he was going to say. Okay, yeah, it looked like Eddie hated Steve. Fuck. Eddie stepped back, squared his shoulders, and kicked the door open. Robin and Steve screamed, Steve quickly pulling his head away from Robin's lap.

"Eddie?!" Steve screamed.

"I HAVE ANOTHER REASON TO KILL YOU!" Robin screamed, clutching her chest.

"I don't fucking hate you! I am in love with you!" Eddie shrieked.

"Then why have you been glaring at me and pulling away?!" Steve exclaimed, wiping his face.

"Because I'm a fucking idiot!" Eddie yelled and sighed, sinking to his knees. "Nancy told me that you like to hold hands during sex and it's all I can think about. My face can look intense when I'm, uh, - "

"Turned on?" Steve asked.

"Yeah! It freaked me out at first, being attracted to you, a man, but also with you being Steve Harrington! It was always just women for me, or so I thought. After a long talk with my own platonic soulmate, Ronnie, she told me that she wasn't surprised, so I guess I just didn't want to admit that those bullying jocks were right about me: that I am a queer. I was feeling it all, and I ran away like I always did, but I'm not running away anymore. I want to run towards you," Eddie said.

Steve sat up on his knees in front of Eddie, smiling.

"It freaked me out, too, Eddie, and then not so much when I talked about it with Robin," Steve said. "I'm in love with you too."

Steve took Eddie's hands in his, holding them softly. Eddie felt giddy until he remembered. . .he inadvertently made Steve Harrington cry.

"I made you cry," Eddie said.

"It was a misunderstanding. I'm fine now," Steve smiled.

"I still made you cry. I deserve to be hit, and since I can't hit myself. . . Robin, do you want to do the honors?"

"I thought you'd never ask," Robin grinned and raised her fist.

"Robin! No!" Steve yelled.

"Aww! Can't I hit him a just little bit?" Robin asked.

"No! You can't hit my boyfriend!" Steve exclaimed.

"Ugh! Fine!"

Robin stood up, glared at Eddie, and then grinned wickedly. She leaned down and twisted Eddie's only nipple. He shrieked. Robin released it with a victorious smirk.

"Robin!" Steve yelled.

"You said I couldn't hit him. You never said anything about twisting his nipple," Robin said.

"I deserved it. Good one, Robin," Eddie gasped and rubbed his tit.

Robin patted Eddie's head and walked out of the room, leaving them alone.

"You okay?" Steve asked.

"Like I said, I deserved it. So. . . Boyfriend?" Eddie smirked.

"Yeah? Is that okay?" Steve asked.

"More than okay, big boy," Eddie smirked.

He cupped Steve’s face, leaned forward, and kissed him deeply. He could feel Steve smiling against his lips, and he couldn't help but smile, too. Steve moved his lips, trying to kiss one of his dimples. Goddamn it. Eddie Munson let out a fucking giggle. Steve pulled away, and Eddie realized they were still holding hands. He looked at Steve intensely, and he grinned.

"Let's take this to my bedroom, and I'll show you how well I hold hands," Steve said.

"Damn."

[justanothervigalanty]

[Revenge]

(robin!jason Todd x fem!y/n Gordon)

part 2: the drug ring

Jason’s funeral was probably the saddest thing you ever heard about because you didn’t attend. You couldn’t possibly. Bruce had to make you promise not to push your self. Which meant 4 months on bed rest wich didn’t stop you were on crutches for the next 6 months and that card left a scar from your shoulder to the start of your neck. Bye bye vests. You became depressed. People tried to help you but nothing could help. Dick and Babs tried to talk to you but you didn’t listen or expect their help. One night Your dad had woken up to you screaming having nightmares about that night. Jason’s screaming the crowbar dragging across the ground the last thing he said to you “I’m sorry” repeating in your head. “Hay y/n! Are you ok!?” He asked sitting on your bed. “It’s him the dream dad the joker!” You said crying into his arms. At this point you had told him that you had gone after Jason that you were what Gotham was called the night’s shadow or just shadow.

“Bruce what do you want?” You asked running down the stairs off the bat cave buckling up Jason’s second belt that you used if he was out off Gotham. Around your waist. “Did you find him?!” You said running to the Batmobile. “No, but this is Tim.” He said which is when you saw a small no older than 12 black haired boy sleeping in the back seat. “Ok what is going on?!” You whispered “y/n I know this is wired but I need you to stay calm.” Bruce said carefully talking out the boy. “He knows who we were he knows you’re the night’s shadow he knows dick is nightwing he knows I’m Batman and that Jason is- was robin.” Bruce said handing the kid to Alfred who took him to bed. “What is your point.” You asked “Batman needs robin” he said needing down placing a hand on your shoulder. “That’s why I’m here so that I can help!” You said stepping back “yeah well I’m worried that you might-“ “what kill somebody!?” You yelled “well y/n after last night I thought that you needed a break…” Bruce said walking away. “So you’re fireing Me?!” You asked “why because you don’t have the guts to kill that mad man! Who may I remind you killed your fucking son?!” You shouted “you know what screw you and dick and that random kid you who you think could ever replace Jason! Fuck you bat!” You said storming out.

“Y/n! Y/n! What’s going on!” Babs said as you came storming into the house and started packing your stuff “y/n talk to me!” She yelled moving herself to her wheelchair and coming over to you. “I’m leaving!” You said grabbing your crutches that you needed from time to time. “Y/n! No y/n!” Barbra said grabbing your rist “you can’t leave me!” She said tears in her eyes “please. Mom left us i know you hardly remember her! I can’t lose you too!” Barbra said holding your wrist tears streaming down her cheeks. “I’m sorry babs but I can’t I love you” you said hugging her before leaving.

Around a 4 years later you had found your self one off Batman’s most wanted. You were after the joker and if anyone go in your way they wouldn’t get a second chance to tell you. In till you were reached out to by a drug trading ring who offered to help you find the joker as long as you became a sort of protection against other gangs. And you slowly made your way to the top. To the point where you had one of the most powerful gangs by the time you were 18.

But not everyone took you seriously because of your obsession with killing the joker and none would dear to ask why. Some said “joker killed her parents” or “she was jokers sidekick and then she randomly quit so the joker has been after her eversincs” and to closest one “you know that one robin? Yeah the one who was killed yea! They dated but you see boss is the jokers daughter so he killed the boy and well she wasn’t happy so swore revenge!”

But this life that you lived was about to change in a way you only ever dreamed about. The dawn of red hood

[0lshadyl0]

Any HCs or scenarios on Yandere Hancock boa ?? I think she an interesting character 🥰

Of course, my dear, she is a fascinating character, in fact, she is my favorite female character after Nico Robin, I am weak to black haired women with cool powers and sad past.

Yandere Boa Hancock headcanons

• Brave of you to assume that she is not a yandere in the canon, that is, she has all the points to follow for her character to be a yandere, especially a delusional yandere

• sad past with traumatic events, no friends, position of power, no one contradicts her, she gets lost in her own fantasies, lives in her own reality and obsesses over a person beyond what is sanely possible, yeah she checks all the marks 

• But, she would only become obsessed with her romantic interest if he has a very specific personality (for example, Luffy)

• Ok, let's say that the key for her to fix her eyes on you is that you have heroic tendencies, that is, she likes people with a good heart, willing to do what others would consider crazy in order to help others. the others (such as hitting a Tenryūbito, better yet, killing one)  

• or just a very kind person with a great charisma, very positive mind but who doesn't take shit from anyone

• if things happened naturally, I'm pretty sure Hancock would be obsessed with a woman, Luffy is an exception to the rule (call it the power of the script thanks to being the protagonist of the series)

• Let's remember that the first men in her life that she met were the Tenryūbito and they are the worst experiences that a young woman like Boa could have, emotionally, physically and sexually (I'm 200% sure that she was raped by a good number of them, that's why despite being in love with Luffy she never sees herself having children with him… probably she can't even get pregnant due to irreparable damage to her sexual organ or simply they removed the ovaries so that she could not get pregnant by the Tenryūbito since she was a slave and the slaves are not worthy of having a child with a being as noble as a Tenryūbito is)

• Anyway, when she fixes her eyes on you, in her head she already begins to live in a world apart

• You've probably seen each other a maximum of five times and most of it in battles, possibly you saved her from some dangerous situation but not paying much attention to her, but in her head, you two are already engaged

• Yes, she is the type of women who, from a very young age, dreamed of getting married and having a large family full of love, a dream that has been transformed into only having a partner to love and be loved by because of the Tenryūbito and all their shit

• She is a relatively easy yandere to deal with, since the word of her s/o is divine law for her, she will never question you, nor will she go against you, she will not hesitate to put herself in danger or give her life for you, she literally will kill for you

• But, keep in mind, she is very jealous and in an unjustified way, nobody can look at you because she is already asking questions and imagining scenarios where you abandon her.

• Because, despite all that she says about being the most beautiful woman in the world, she actually has low self-esteem due to her past as a slave, she doesn't feel that she is worthy of you, because she is dirty

• But if you tell her that you are not interested in that person or deny knowing about the existence of the person who made her jealous, she will believe you without a shadow of a doubt.

• You can tell her that the sky is green and for her, yes, ultimately the sky is green and she will turn anyone who says otherwise into stone

• She is a stalker, she will follow you everywhere and will always be watching you, of course, at a respectful (Hinata-Naruto style) distance if the two of you get into a relationship, she will stick to you like gum, she is unbelievably clingy and has no idea of the meaning of personal space

• She is one of the few yanderes who have no sexual intentions, because she is traumatized with sex (she has never known about vanilla sex or consent) and considers it torture, she loves you too much to do you any kind of harm

• Oh, but if she were to get over her traumas and discover that sex can be enjoyed and is a way to stay connected to the one she loves, man, get ready for a long ride

[hairmetal666]

Steddie Notes BONUS PART

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5) (Part 6) (Part 7)

Eddie wakes up to an empty bed. He’s a little surprised, honestly, since he had his heart set on first anniversary morning sex. Though, based on the smells wafting through their apartment, Steve’s making breakfast, which is an acceptable alternative (plus, if he has it his way, they aren’t leaving the bed again today).

The digital alarm clock on his bedside table is obscured by a Composition Book he doesn’t remember bringing to bed. He reaches for it before his brain registers the red ink dragon sketched on the cover. His hands tremble as he flips it open, but the first few pages are written in his own scrawl. Steve’s handwriting doesn’t appear until 10 pages in and Eddie’s heart stutters at the sight.

March 28, 1986

God, Eddie, I’m so sorry. So, so fucking sorry. I can’t— I’m sorry. I should have been there, I should’ve protected you, I should’ve kept you safe. 

You wouldn’t be part of this if it weren’t for me. Robin and Dustin keep telling me that's not true, that Chrissy was already cursed but. Robin is here because of me. Erica-fucking Sinclair is here because of me. And now you. And you’re dying. And it’s my fault. 

I don’t even know what I’m doing right now, but I can’t just sit and wait, I’d lose my mind. Anyway. You left this notebook in my trunk, and I hope you don’t mind that I’m using it. 

I don’t think I’ve ever been this terrified in my life, Eds.

Please don’t die on me. I can’t live in this world without you. 

March 29, 1986

Hey Eds

You made it through the night. I can’t fucking believe it. I ripped Robin’s shirt when the doctor came in to tell us that you were out of surgery and stable, and then he dropped the bomb that your chance of surviving the night was 40%. Forty-fucking-percent. I guess you beat the odds, babylove.

I’m with Uncle Wayne at your bedside. He threw a fit to make sure I could be here whenever I wanted, and that everyone could visit.

You’ve missed some wild shit, Munson, you’re going to be so mad when you wake up. 

Come back to me, sweet boy. I can’t take this.

March 30, 1986

Made it through a second night, babe. 

I hope you wake up soon. 

Miss you like crazy. 

I keep looking at you in this hospital bed, and you look so fucking small. I hate it. You’re the loudest voice in the room. You don’t just take up space, you demand it. It’s killing me that I haven’t heard your voice in days. And my brain, it keeps filling in things you would say, and I wait for you to speak up, but of course you don’t. It’s a kick to the balls every single time. 

The thing is. 

The thing is that I need you to wake up, Eddie. You can’t leave me. I made up my mind a long time ago, we’re spending our lives together. And it can’t fucking end now. It can’t end because of this. 

And I need you to open your goddamn beautiful eyes so I can tell you how much I love you. You don’t get to go before you hear me say it, do you understand?

I love you. You’re it for me. I’ve never wanted a forever as much as I want one with you. So, you have to wake up, yeah? You have to wake up so we can grow up, have a family, have a life together. 

Promise you won’t leave me, Eds.

March 31, 1986

You woke up, you motherfucker. The doctors kicked me out to look you over and I cried so hard in the bathroom that Robin made El break down the door with her powers. 

Thank you for coming back. I won’t ever let you go again.

April 7, 1987

I’m sure you’re wondering why I’m giving this to you, babylove. It’s been a year. Look how far we’ve come. 

✏️✏️✏️✏️

September 18, 2015

It’s way too fucking early for Eddie to even be awake and he has the day off. Steve asked him to take vacation months ago, didn’t say why, and now that fucker has the audacity to not even be in the house. And like, sure, they’ve been together for close to thirty years, and Eddie knows that Steve goes for a run at the ass crack of dawn.

Still pisses him off, though. 

Eddie huffs down to the kitchen to get coffee started, doing a double take when he sees a familiar black Composition Book with red dragon on the cover. 

He walks towards it slowly because this has been framed on the wall since their first anniversary, way back in ’87, and Steve isn’t home.

Eddie opens it, re-reads the panicked, lovesick notes Steve wrote in the hospital, doesn't bother to fight back the tears. He gets to the last letter and the paper is stiff and wrinkled, like it took water damage. Eddie flips the page, grief already pumping through his veins.

What he sees instead is college-ruled notebook paper, glued in place. It reads:

“I fucking hate this class.”

“Tell me about it.”

“trig. You?”

“Algebra 2 :(” 

A sound escapes his mouth, something between a laugh and a sob.

“Hey man, I'm pretty sure I fucked things up with us, and I owe you an apology. I've always known who you were, but you had no idea I was me...”

“Anyone ever tell you you’re kind of beautiful, Munson?”

“Watch. The. Movie. This is the last time we get high first if this is how you behave.”

 “What are you gonna win me at the fair, Harrington?” 

 “If you’re nice to me, probably something cute.” 

“Eddie…I think I really like you

You’re my favorite person in the entire world

Some days you’re the only thing I can think about

I want to wake up in bed with you everyday

I can’t stop thinking about what it would be like to kiss you

Do you like me? Yes or No”

“What are you doing about Hellfire?”

“Huh?”

“If the game is Friday. Lucas can’t do both.”

“He made his choice.”

“You ever been in love?”

No, but I think I’m falling”

“I love you, Eddie”

All the sketches of the sailor boy and the rockstar are there, even the one Eddie stuck to the poster in his room, though how Steve managed to get that is anyone’s guess.

There are pictures too, Eddie and Max still recuperating in the hospital; Corroded Coffin performing at the Hideout; them holding the keys to the bar, Steve shirtless and hammering something while Eddie looks on, with the increasingly popular bands Eddie booked to play their must-see Friday night slots; Steve on his first day of college and one of him jumping into Eddie’s arms in his graduation gown, mortar board slipping off his head; In the hospital cradling their twin girls with Max giving a weary thumbs-up between them. Shot after shot of their family, their life, their dreams coming true. A scrapbook of their lives together, big moments and small; good and bad. 

Eddie’s crying freely as he flips through the rest of the book, still fucking astounded that Steve is the love of his life, that they’re making a forever together.

Eddie flips to the last page. Stops dead. 

In Steve’s looped handwriting, unchanged since high school, it says:

“Eddie, 

         Will you marry me?”

“What the fuck?” He yelps, standing up fast enough that his chair crashes to the floor. 

He turns and Steve— his reason for being, the man that brought him back from the dead—Steve Harrington, is down on one knee, something silver glinting in his outstretched hand.

“Eddie,” he says, his voice a wreck. “Marry me?” 

Eddie crashes to his knees, shoving at Steve’s shoulder. “You’re such an idiot.”

Steve laughs. “Is that a yes?”

Eddie laughs too, but it quickly morphs into a sob, “Of course it’s a yes, Steve. Of course.”

Hands trembling, Steve slips the ring onto Eddie’s hand. It’s a thin silver band with skeletal hands contorted into an infinity symbol. 

They fall into a kiss that rips the breath from Eddie’s lungs, but then that’s nothing new. When they finally pull apart Eddie asks, “why today?”

Steve blushes and grabs at the back of his neck. “Thirty-one years ago, I walked into Mundy’s class and found a note on the window ledge.” 

“What the fuck.” Eddie’s mouth drops, his heart stuttering. This man.

“Once I figured out you leaving that note was going to be one of the most important moments of my life? I made sure to never forget.”

“Baby.” Eddie pulls Steve in for another kiss. “I can’t wait to marry you.”

Steve tugs at Eddie’s hand. “C’mon.”

“Where we going?” 

“The girls will be here in a couple hours, and I have some things I want to do to you before they’re home.”

“The GIRLS?” Eddie shrieks. “How the hell long have you been planning this? Did they KNOW?”

“Since the end of June,” Steve answers without missing a beat. “And of course they know. Everyone knows. I asked Wayne for his blessing.” 

Eddie can’t speak, his heart crashing in his chest as he, once again, thanks whatever entity made it possible for him to have this.

“I’ve been in love with you for over half my life, Eds. I wanted to do this right. You deserve it. We deserve it.” 

He pulls Steve into his arms, kissing him hard enough that their teeth clack, but neither of them care.

✏️✏️✏️✏️

When they come home from dinner, as Steve reaches in his pocket for his keys to let the entire family in the house to celebrate their engagement, he finds a gum wrapper tucked in with the metal. He unfolds it, the words within unfurling in his heart, his soul.

"Thank you for giving me forever, sweetheart."

Edited: check out the full version on ao3!

This is officially the end! I hope you enjoyed this little (long) bonus part. Thanks for reading! 💜💜💜

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[morganski-19]

Things I Won’t Say When I'm Sober: Part 3

part 1, part 2, part 4

It’s dark when Steve wakes up. He’s not exactly sure why he did. For once since his world got flipped upside down, he had a nice dream. Or didn’t dream at all. But whatever it was, it was the kind of thing he woke up from and didn’t immediately want to grab the bat that rests under his bed. Not that he could this time anyway, he wasn’t even home. 

He isn’t even home. Freaking out, he falls out of the peacefulness as his heart starts rapidly beating. This wasn’t his room, these weren’t his house. If anything were to go wrong nothing was near him to even grab for a weapon. Nothing for him to protect himself from the bad. 

Blinking the sleep out of his eyes, the room starts to make more sense. Light is softly streaming into the room illuminating the posters on the wall. The lingering smell of weed starts to filter in as the familiar ache in his bones returns. Memories of the previous night come streaming in as he relaxes back into the bed. 

Steve isn’t in some government warehouse being tortured. Steve isn’t in the upside down. He isn’t in a crumbling mall or tunnels set ablaze or even the Byers’ house as a monster falls from the ceiling. No, Steve is in Eddie’s room, sleeping in his bed because he got too high to drive home. He is safe. 

A groan comes from the other side of the bed, followed by some words Steve can’t understand. He rolls over to find Eddie facing his way, hair all messed up and covering his face. An urge comes over Steve to push it away, uncover his face, and be able to see it in the dark. That way he could look at Eddie the way he wanted to, just not with the fear of being caught. Eddie was a deep sleeper anyway, Steve once saw him be able to sleep through a movie night with the kids. If he could sleep through that chaos, then he could sleep through anything. 

Before Steve could even do that though, more groans and noises slipped out of Eddie’s mouth. 

“Not- Not me. Not me.” He muttered, louder this time, his voice shaking like it did in the boathouse. 

It was a nightmare. Steve could only guess what it was about, but he was sure he’d had many of the same. After what they went through, it was hard not to. If it were like one of Steve’s, it could be really bad. Or it could be just okay enough that it would fade away in a few seconds.

“Stop. I didn’t do it.” Eddie says again, almost like he wants to scream it. 

Hearing it makes Steve’s heart pull. He should wake him up, take him out of this misery, and hold him in his arms until it all went away. 

“It wasn’t me!” Eddie screams now. “I didn’t kill her.”

Steve’s reminded of the screams he would yell out in the night after Starcourt. Screaming that he worked for Scoops, hoping that would make them stop. That the pain they put them through would stop. He’d have dreams and flashbacks to that moment more than he would ever admit. He knew what it was like to be stuck in the moment. Even though Eddie’s was different, that didn’t mean it was any less traumatizing. 

“Just stop hunting me,” Eddie says again, almost like he is retreating. 

He can’t take it anymore and reaches across the small gap between them, shaking Eddie’s shoulder. “Hey, Eddie. Eddie wake up,” he whispers, trying not to startle him. 

“I didn’t-” Eddie whimpers again, slowly waking up. “I didn’t do it.”

“I know you didn’t, man. I know. You didn’t do it.” Steve breathes. “Wherever you are, you aren’t there right now. You’re here with me, Steve. And I believe you. You didn’t do it, I know.”

Eddie lets out a shaky breath as he opens his eyes. “Steve,” he whispers, reaching out a hand to touch Steve’s chest. 

“Yeah, I’m here man,” he responds, ignoring the spark that ignited at the touch. 

“Where are we?”

“In your room. Your new room. We’re in your bed. Remember last night? I got so high you wouldn’t let me drive home so you made me sleep in your bed. And Robin, she’s here too. Out there on the couch sleeping. We’re safe here, you’re safe. You’re safe with me.”

Eddie’s eyes meet Steve, tears slowly filling his eyes. “I didn’t do it. They didn’t believe me. How-.” He blinks as a tear rolls down his cheeks. “How could they think I could do that to another person?”

Part of Steve’s heart breaks at those words. Knowing Eddie now, it was hard to think that he could ever hurt someone like that. Sure he’d say some things he didn’t mean from time to time, but ever really hurting somebody, that wasn’t Eddie. And he wasn’t violent, chose to fight with his words rather than his fists. Even in high school when Steve would hear about fights, it was never Eddie who threw the first punch. He was always the one fighting back. 

Before Steve can even get a chance to respond, Eddie shoots up, rubbing at his face. “This is so stupid. Why did this have to happen now, when you’re here? It was fine, I was fine.” 

“Eddie,” Steve interrupts, sitting up as well. 

“This is so embarrassing. You don’t have to deal with me like this, I don’t need your pity. You can just go, I’m sure the high has worn off by now. Buckley is probably up from all of the screaming and-” 

“Eddie,” he interrupts again, pulling Eddie’s hands away from where they were violently rubbing his eyes. “I’m not leaving.”

“Even after you just saw me-”

“Having a normal reaction to a nightmare based on the insane amount of shit that you just went through a few months ago. No, I’m not.”

Eddie blinks a few times at Steve in disbelief. “Even after I’ve just probably woken you up and scared the shit out of you.”

“Even then. And you didn’t wake me up, I already woke up.”

“From what?”

“Nothing really. I just woke up and heard you muttering in your sleep and thought it might be a nightmare. I waited a second, sometimes they can disappear fast. But it didn’t, so I woke you up.”

Eddie starts playing with his fingers, circling one of his fingers as if his ring was there. “Thanks,” he mutters, avoiding Steve’s gaze again. 

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“I was just,” Eddie looks up at the ceiling. “It was different from my other nightmares. Most of the time I’m back at the trailer when it happened or swarmed with the bats again. Sometimes Dustin is in her place, or mine, and then I can’t save either of them. Or it’s Buckley or Wheeler or one of the other kids or … or you. And every time I can’t save them.”

Steve leans forward, trying to see Eddie better. “But this time.”

“This time, I was at the boathouse when Jason and his shithead goons found me. They caught me before I got to the water and started beating me up. I-I couldn’t get them to stop.” Eddie chokes up as a few tears roll down his cheeks again. 

“Eddie,” Steve says without anything else to follow. Instead, he reaches out and pulls Eddie into a hug, ignoring the thoughts in his head telling him that it’s too much. He doesn’t care right now. Eddie falls into him, leaning into Steve’s touch and letting himself be held. 

“I thought they were going to kill me,” he sobs into Steve’s chest. 

Steve doesn’t know how long they sit there like this and he doesn’t care. He would sit there forever with Eddie like that if that’s where he wanted to be. Eddie acts all tough as if what happened didn’t bother him. That the mobs of people calling him a murderer and a satanist were just a bunch of fakes following the word an insane teenager. But deep down, those words cut and fester and Eddie’s let it build up. Steve can tell that he has. 

So if Eddie feels safe enough to let it all go, to finally feel what he should feel about the situation, then Steve’s not going to stop him. It would only add to the cruelty that has been handed to Eddie if it did. 

Eventually, Eddie’s sobs start to fade as Steve leans them back down on the bed. Eddie is still wrapped up in Steve’s arms but almost falling back to sleep so Steve doesn’t care. Instead, he keeps holding him until his breath starts to deepen and the tears stop streaming down his face. 

Steve can’t help but think to himself that he wants this all of the time. Not the nightmares or the crying. But the feeling of warmth of Eddie against his skin. His arms holding Eddie close and not want to let go. It feels like the most right thing in the world.

He thinks back to earlier that night. How fast he jumped away from Eddie, ashamed of being so close to him. Now he can’t even understand what he was thinking. How can he be ashamed to be close to Eddie when this feels so right? When this feels more right than anything in his life in the past few years. 

For the first time in a while, Steve feels content. Happy even. Not just with the world around him, but with himself. Like everything he’s been afraid of faded away and he’s just sitting in this moment. He isn’t afraid anymore. Of himself at least. If liking Eddie makes him feel like this, then there can’t be anything wrong with it, can it?

another part coming soon!!

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[threewaywithdelusion]

Steve & Robin Bodyswap AU

I'm probably never going to finish this fic because I struggle with follow-through on long fics, but I enjoy this section so I thought I'd post it. At this point, it's September 1986 and Steve and Robin have been body-swapping for about a month (they can't control when it happens). Trigger warnings for homophobia and use of the word queer as a slur.

When the dizzy feeling passed, Robin was in Steve’s body, looking into his bathroom mirror. She was almost naked, only a towel around her waist, and it looked like Steve had been halfway through his hair routine. Robin sighed and picked up Steve’s hairspray and a comb, trying to finish creating Steve’s famous hairstyle. It was harder than Steve made it look, and when she finished it looked a little off-center somehow, like it had melted a little to the side. Was his hair longer than before? Whatever. This was as good as she could get it, so Steve would have to live with it. 

The phone rang as Robin returned to the bedroom. 

“Hello?” Robin answered. 

“Hey,” Steve said. “Do you remember where you’re going tonight?”

“No,” Robin said. “I was planning on doing my English paper and then repainting my nails. I didn’t think we’d switch so late in the day.”

Steve sighed. “Me neither. That’s why I scheduled a date.”

“A date!” Robin shrieked. 

She couldn’t go on a date. With a girl. As Steve Harrington. 

“Yeah,” Steve said, sounding guilty. “Listen. Her name is Jenny and you’re supposed to pick her up at seven. Her address is written on a post-it on the kitchen table.”

“Steve,” Robin said. “I can’t go on this date.”

“Why not?”

“Why not? Because I’m not you! Because she wants to go on a date with Mr. Cool and not some band nerd who rambles when she’s nervous, like, I don’t know, when she’s in front of a pretty girl. I can’t go on my first date with a girl in your body! And I can’t drive! I’ll crash the car and kill us both.”

“You’re not so bad anymore,” Steve said. “At worst, you’ll get into a fender-bender.”

“And what about all the other reasons this is a terrible idea?” Robin demanded. 

“Do you actually mind?” Steve asked, voice small. “Going on your first date with a girl in my body?”

She knew if she said yes, he would let her cancel. But there was something vulnerable in his voice and that made her stop and think. 

Did she mind? For the past three years, Robin had been dreaming of going on a date with a girl. She’d imagined what it would be like to hold a door open for a girl, to hold hands under the table, to giggle at her jokes and maybe even get a kiss at the end of the night. And she’d imagined doing all that in her own body, with someone who was into her. 

Part of her wanted that. Part of her was holding onto that dream of an ideal first date, the way some girls dreamed of a perfect first time. 

But also, Robin had never gone on a date with a girl because she lived in Hawkins. She probably wouldn’t get to go on a date until after she graduated and moved away. Maybe this was her chance to go on a date with a girl. It might not fully count, but it would still be her on the date. Her and this girl. It could at least be good practice for her real first date.

“I don’t mind,” Robin said. “But Steve, I’m going to ruin this.”

“You’re not going to ruin anything,” Steve said. “Just be yourself. Or, well, maybe not yourself, cause you’re supposed to be me. But you’ll be fine!”

Robin groaned. “Steeeeve.”

“It’ll be fine!”

“You won’t be mad at me if I totally tank your date, right?”

“No,” Steve said. “You’re going on a date for me. That’s like, really nice, even if it goes wrong. No one’s ever done that for me before.”

Robin snorted. “Well I would hope not, Dingus. If you’d been bodyswapping with someone else and you hadn’t brought it up by now, I’d be pissed.”

Steve laughed. “Nah, no other bodyswappers. I still think it was the Russian drugs.”

Robin rolled her eyes. “It wasn’t the drugs!”

“It totally was!”

Robin eyed the clock on Steve’s bedside table. “I have to go if I’m going to make it to your date on time.” Especially if she drove at Robin-speed to pick the girl up. 

“Okay,” Steve said. “Remember, her name is Jenny and her address is on the kitchen table. I’ll start the rough draft of your essay and then you can fix it tomorrow.”

Robin winced. Steve seemed to be enjoying school more now that he was in her body and his dyslexia didn’t get in the way, but he was still a terrible essay writer. There probably wouldn’t be much usable material in whatever he wrote, but she appreciated that he was trying to take the burden of half her schoolwork. 

“Thanks,” she said. “Maybe just do an outline?”

Steve paused for a moment. When he spoke again, there was something off about his voice. “Yeah, okay.”

Robin wanted to push, but she really didn’t have time and her stomach was already starting to churn with nerves at the idea of going on a date. She said her goodbyes and hung up the phone before going to Steve’s closet. She didn’t know how to dress for a date, especially as a boy, but presumably Jenny wanted to go out with Steve, so Robin pulled out jeans and a polo. She winced as she looked in the mirror, King Steve staring back. Swoopy hair, pretentious polo, and handsome face – all looking horribly out of place with Robin in his body, shoulders slumping in uncomfortably. 

Robin looked away. 

She found the post-in on the kitchen and Steve’s keys on the hook by the front door before sliding nervously behind the wheel of Steve’s car. She took a deep breath and slid the key into the ignition, backing painfully slowly out of the driveway. Her nerves increased as she drove, building like a knot in her stomach. It was so odd how Steve’s body handled nervousness. In her own body, Robin would be bouncing, or pacing, or flapping her hands, anything to expel this nervous energy. When Robin was anxious, she needed to move, to babble, to get it all out. 

Steve’s body held onto anxiety, using it to twist his insides tighter and tighter. His shoulders ached from the tension he held and his heart started pounding and the idea of moving didn’t feel helpful, not to the body Robin was in. 

But she wanted to move, and the mixed signals just added to the confused anxiety in her body. 

When she arrived at Jenny’s house, she had to knock at the door. Luckily, a girl opened it, dressed nicely and looking the right age to be Steve’s date.

This was confirmed when the girl smiled and said, “Hi, Steve.”

“Hi,” Robin said. Way to go Steve! Jenny was pretty, long blonde curls and big blue eyes. She was wearing a sundress with a square neckline that drew attention to the line of her collarbones, and a short skirt that revealed long, smooth legs, tan from the summer sun. Her hands, fiddling with the hem of her dress, were decorated by thin gold rings on each finger. 

“Like what you see?”

Robin flinched before she registered Jenny’s teasing tone. 

Jenny was flirting. She thought she was being eyed by Steve Harrington and she liked it, so she was teasing him for staring.

But it wasn’t Steve. It was Robin, admiring a pretty girl. Robin, who lived in fear of being caught staring and being chased out of town by an angry mob with pitchforks and crosses and Save the Children posters. 

Robin managed a shaky smile for Jenny. “You look really pretty.”

Jenny looked pleased. She called a goodbye into the house and followed Robin to the car. Robin took a deep breath as she slid behind the wheel again. 

“How was your day?” Jenny asked. 

“Good,” Robin said. She’d gone to work this morning as Steve, then finished the afternoon at school as herself. She’d gone to band practice, where they had started a new song. But that wasn’t what Steve had done with his day. Or, well, it wouldn’t have been if they weren’t swapping bodies. Steve had graduated. “I had work.”

“What made you want to work at Family Video?” Jenny asked. 

Robin couldn’t answer for a moment, focused on making a left turn. Then there was a pothole to swerve and a stop sign to navigate. By the time Robin thought of Jenny’s question again, the silence was awkward and heavy. 

“Uh, movies?” Robin said. “Yeah, I, uh, like movies. Big movie fan.”

She wished she could see Jenny’s expression, but Robin had to watch the road. 

“Okay,” Jenny said slowly, sounding skeptical. “What movies do you like?”

“Grease,” Robin said, naming one of Steve’s favorites. “

“Oh I love Grease!” Jenny said. “It’s so romantic, isn’t it?”

Robin hated Grease. She thought it was patriarchal and ridiculous and taught women that they should change to win the love of men who treated them badly. Sure, Sandy looked hot at the end, but it came at the cost of her personality and autonomy and self-expression. Robin hated the idea that a girl was supposed to conform to what a guy wanted of her. Why couldn’t Danny be the one to change?

“Yeah, it’s romantic,” Robin said. 

They hit a curb as she took a turn and Jenny let out a little yelp. Robin refocused on the road. 

“Sorry,” she said. “I, uh, ran out of contacts? And lost my glasses? I don’t think I can talk and drive right now.”

“Oh,” Jenny said, sounding nervous and unimpressed. That was fair. Robin wouldn’t like it if the guy driving her around said he couldn’t see shit.  “Yeah, sure.”

They drove in silence until they got to the diner. 

[Jenny asks about basketball and robin fumbles her way through answers]

[They kiss goodnight on Jenny’s doorstep]

As soon as Jenny entered her house, Robin felt her face crumple. She retreated to the car and drove back to Steve’s house, shaking a little. She wanted to cry, but Steve’s body wouldn’t. There was a lump in her throat and an ache in her chest, but her eyes were dry. 

She hated this. She hated that the date had gone so badly. She hated that her first kiss had been stolen. That it hadn’t been her Jenny had wanted to kiss and it hadn’t been her lips that had been kissed. She hated that Steve had sent her on this date. She hated that she’d agreed. She hated Steve’s stupid body, which wasn’t hers and was foreign and masculine and wouldn’t even fucking cry when she wanted it to. 

Robin parked and stormed into Steve’s house. She slammed the door behind her, which felt good, so she did it a few more times. Slam. Slam. Slam. When she felt out of breath, she collapsed against the entryway wall. 

Steve’s reflection stared back at her from the mirror above the key hooks. 

She couldn’t take it. She ran up the stairs, bypassing Steve’s bedroom and entering his parents’ room. She’d never been in here before because Steve acted like it was forbidden, but she didn’t care right now. She found Mrs. Harrington’s vanity and started ripping the drawers open, upending makeup and hair supplies until she found several bottles of nail polish. 

They were all boring pinks and reds, exactly what a housewife would wear, but Robin grabbed the darkest red and took it downstairs. She grabbed a David Bowie record and blasted it, propping her hands on her thighs and starting to paint her nails. Her hands were shaking, but she stubbornly pushed through, trying to paint a neat maroon coat onto Steve’s nails. 

She stopped and stared after she finished the first hand. 

It was Steve’s hand still, broad and square-fingered, but it felt better with the nail polish. A bit more feminine. 

Robin had spent so long in her own body trying to express herself without femininity. She didn’t like dresses or skirts or long hair. Her makeup was smudgy and her jewelry chunky and she liked to look good but not in a girly-girl way. 

In Steve’s body though, she felt like she had to compensate for its masculinity. She was still a girl, even if she wasn’t a girly one, and seeing a man staring back at her in the mirror was uncomfortable. She wanted to put Steve’s body in a dress and grow out his hair and do his makeup. But that all felt like a violation of Steve’s will for what he wanted to do with his body. She was just a guest here – she couldn’t change anything he couldn’t quickly change back. Even if she spent a solid half of her waking hours in this body. 

Steve’s hand looked good in maroon nail polish. It felt a bit more like hers. 

***

Steve woke up in his own body, which was rare these days. 

He was in his bed and he had a headache, which wasn’t that unusual. But it wasn’t a spike of pain in his skull, no oncoming migraine. This felt like a headache from crying. 

Steve went to the bathroom mirror and squinted at his reflection. Maybe Robin had a point and Steve should get glasses. His bad eyesight was much more noticeable and annoying when he spent half his time looking at the world through Robin’s 20/20 eyes. 

With just a little squinting though, Steve found that he was right; his eyes were red. Robin had been crying. 

Steve’s heart sank. He’d thought Robin would call after the date yesterday, but he hadn’t heard from her. He hadn’t heard from her, and she had cried herself to sleep. What had happened?

He’d been kind of happy when Robin hadn’t called, which he felt bad about. But she hadn’t wanted him to write a draft of her paper, just an outline. It was stupid to be upset about that. But for the first time in his life, Steve was following what was happening in Robin’s English and history classes. They were way more interesting when he could read without getting frustrated, and he’d wanted to write the paper to help Robin but also to see what he could do when he actually understood the book. 

But Robin didn’t think he was smart enough to write her essay. 

Which was fine, obviously, Steve knew that Robin was way smarter than him. He shouldn’t be upset just because Robin knew that too. 

It was fine. The problem was that something had made Robin cry. 

He was picking her up for school, so he would ask on the drive. 

Steve started getting ready, brushing his teeth and doing his hair. There was too much hairspray in it, the way there usually was when Robin had been the last one to style it, so he brushed it through a bit extra to try to get some of the stiffness out. 

There was also nail polish on his fingers. 

Steve stopped for a long moment to stare. The nail polish was pretty, a dark red color and super smooth. Steve had tried to paint Robin’s nails last night and he’d done a much worse job, getting nail polish all over her skin and accidentally making it lumpy and full of bubbles. 

But on Steve’s hands, the polish was neat and smooth and elegant. Steve had never had his nails painted before, but it was pretty. He liked it. 

Maybe Steve shouldn’t have painted Robin’s nails. He’d been under the impression that Robin hated the process of painting her nails – always complaining about having to sit still while they dried. But if she liked it enough to do it in Steve’s body, maybe he should have let her paint her own. 

Steve grabbed his work vest and a granola bar and drove to Robin’s house. She came out the door in a hurry, jacket half-on, shouting something back at her parents. But she was quiet as she got in the car. She barely said hello before busying herself looking through Steve’s tapes. 

Steve frowned. “Robin? Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Robin said. “I’m fine. Just tired, you know?”

Steve had gone to bed early last night, which meant Robin’s body shouldn’t be tired. He didn’t say that. 

“How did the date go?”

Robin froze, only for a second, but it was noticeable given how she was always in motion. “It was okay. She said you should call her.”

“That sounds pretty good,” Steve said tentatively. 

“Yeah,” Robin said. She put in a tape and turned the volume up. 

Dread started to grow in Steve’s stomach. He waited until he’d pulled into Dustin’s driveway and honked to turn down the music. Dustin always took a minute to come out. 

“Did I overstep?” Steve asked quietly. 

“What do you mean?” Robin asked. She was fiddling with her bracelets, and Steve suddenly realized she hadn’t even looked at him since getting in the car. 

“When I asked you to go on the date for me. Was that too much?”

Robin still didn’t look at him. “Steve-”

“Hey!” Dustin said loudly, climbing into the backseat. “You won’t believe what happened in our campaign last night. So we were in this forest, right, and then Eddie had this really suspicious looking dwarf show up-”

Dustin kept babbling about his campaign all the way to the school and Steve tried to react in the appropriate places. He had no idea what was happening in the story because Dustin used way too many words that Steve was pretty sure didn’t exist. But he’d already hurt Robin somehow; he didn’t want to hurt Dustin as well. 

Steve dropped them both at school — Robin leaving with a little “bye” and Dustin still rambling on his way out of the car — and went to work. He was the only one working until Robin got on in the afternoon, so it was pretty boring. A few housewives came in, but mostly Steve rewound and reshelved tapes. He contemplated actually cleaning, but decided he wasn’t bored enough to do that and ended up tapping his fingers idly on the counter as he half-paid attention to the children’s movie that was playing on the tv. 

Today, of all days, Steve didn’t want to be alone with his thoughts. 

What had gone so wrong? He’d asked Robin if she was okay with going on the date and she had said yes. But she hadn’t called and she couldn’t even look at him this morning. That had never happened before. They had bickered back when they’d been getting to know each other at Scoops Ahoy, but they’d never had a real fight. 

All Steve could think of was Nancy. Nancy, pulling away because Steve couldn’t be what she needed. Nancy, who Steve had hurt without even realizing it. Nancy, who Steve had loved and who he had lost because he was bullshit. 

He couldn’t be bullshit with Robin. He’d thought he was safe from ruining this because they were friends and they’d felt mind-melded even before the body swapping had started. 

But Steve had clearly done something wrong. He had to figure out what it was and fix it before he lost Robin. 

A man came in, dressed in a suit, clearly on his lunch break. Steve tracked him as he wandered the shelves, but the man didn’t seem to need any help, quickly finding a movie and bringing it up to the counter. 

It was [romance movie]. 

“It’s for my wife,” the man said, as if he thought Steve was judging him. 

“That’s romantic,” Steve said. “Can I get your name?” 

“Johnny Richards,” the man said. “My wife’s upset I had to work late the past month. It’s not my fault! I work for the mayor’s office and we’re still dealing with the fallout of that fucking mall fire.”

Steve’s customer service smile turned even more frozen. He mechanically pulled up the man’s profile. Johnny Richards’ account had a few action movies, some chick flicks, and a lot of pornography. 

Steve tried to change the topic to Johnny’s wife again. “I’m sure she’ll appreciate a movie date night. This one’s a good choice.”

He flashed Johnny Richards another customer service smile as he scanned the movie, but Johnny wasn’t looking at his face. He was watching Steve’s hands. 

“That’ll be three dollars,” Steve said.

Johnny’s eyes flashed to his, lips curled back in a sneer. “You a queer?”

Steve blinked in confusion. “What?”

“You. A. Queer?” Johnny repeated. 

Steve’s muscles locked at the word and at the tone the man was using. He automatically looked for Robin, trying to make sure he was between her and the threat, before he remembered that she was at school. 

“No?” Steve said. He didn’t sound confident, which he knew was a mistake, but he was really confused.

“No?” The man mocked. “Then why are you painting your nails like one?”

Oh. Steve glanced down at his hands, at the red color on his nails. He’d kept it on when he’d left the house because he liked it and because Robin had been the one to paint them, but he’d been too preoccupied to think his decision through. 

He should have known better than to wear nail polish in Hawkins, Indiana. 

“I didn’t paint them,” Steve said. “My friend did. She, um, wanted to practice.”

Johnny gave Steve a disdainful look. “Acting like a pussy isn’t going to get you any girls. If she’s painting your nails, you’re stuck in the friend zone — you don’t have to give her your dignity as well. Have some self-respect and stop looking like a goddamn queer.”

“I’m not a queer,” Steve protested. 

“Just some friendly advice,” Johnny said. “Better you hear it from me, than someone who wouldn’t be so nice.”

It sounded so much like something Steve’s father would say that he gave an automatic, “Yes, sir.”

Johnny Richards nodded, like that was the reaction he’d been hoping for. He slapped three dollars on the counter, far from Steve’s hand as if he didn’t want to touch him, then grabbed the tape and walked out. 

Steve felt hot all over, shame and embarrassment and something else filling him. He felt dirty, like he shouldn’t have liked having his nails done. 

He was a boy. He wasn’t supposed to like girly things. Even if he was a girl half the time, when he was in Robin’s body and she was in his. 

He didn’t mind being in Robin’s body. He didn’t mind her longer hair, or her painted nails, or her makeup, even when it was on him. He liked wearing her clothes, even though most of it wasn’t his style and he wished he could get some nice blouses and skirts. 

But that was all when he was in Robin’s body. He was allowed to like those things when he was a girl. He had been stupid to think he could get away with painted nails as a boy. 

Steve was still shaking. He felt awful, like he’d been through something worse than a few mean comments from a stranger. The kind of comments he himself had made in the past. 

If this was how everyone he had bullied had felt, maybe he deserved to feel this way. 

Steve kept his fingers curled as he helped the next few customers, hiding his nails from sight. 

By the time Robin showed up for her afternoon shift, Steve was able to act sufficiently normal. Robin was still half-avoiding him, but it was Friday afternoon and they were ridiculously busy trying to rent out movies for the weekend. 

Steve waited until they were alone in the store, closing up, to say “Can you please come over? I want to talk.”

“Okay,” Robin said to the ground. But she got in the car with him and let him drive her to his house. 

They took their shoes off by the entryway and made their way to the kitchen, moving seamlessly to make dinner. They were both comfortable moving around Steve’s kitchen as if they lived there, because they both lived there. 

Steve almost added peas to his own plate before he remembered that he hated peas. They only tasted good when he was Robin. 

When they were both picking at their reheated lasagne, Steve said, “I’m sorry.”

Robin’s head jerked up, a bewildered look on her face. 

“I’m sorry,” Steve repeated. He hadn’t said those words much the first sixteen years of his life. But he’d say them a million times now if that’s what it took to get Robin to forgive him. 

“For what?” Robin asked. 

Was this a test? Steve’s mother did that sometimes, made him explain what he was apologizing for so she could scoff in his face and tell him that wasn’t why she was mad and to try again. 

“For asking you to go on that date for me?” Steve guessed. 

Robin didn’t look happy with that answer. 

“I don’t know,” Steve quickly admitted. Sometimes it was better to just get it over with. She could explain how he’d fucked up and then she could yell and then he could apologize and hopefully they would be okay. “I’m sorry for being so stupid that I don’t know what I did, I guess. But I didn’t mean you make you mad. Or sad? And I’m really sorry.”

“I’m not mad at you,” Robin said, sounding angry. 

Steve hesitated. This felt like a bad idea, but “You seem mad.”

“I am, but not at you.”

“Then why haven’t you looked at me all day?”

Robin growled and got to her feet, starting to pace. “It’s complicated, okay? I’m mad at your stupid body, and you’re in it right now. And I’m mad at this whole situation. It fucking sucks, okay?”

Steve didn’t know how to fix the situation. They had hit a dead end with everything they had tried, and unless El got her powers back, their only possible next step was to trust the government scientists. Call Steve crazy, but even before the Russians he hadn’t trusted government scientists, especially ones who had experimented on a little girl for her powers. 

So he focused on the part he maybe could fix. “Why are you mad at my body?”

Robin spun on her heel, still pacing, arm flying as she tried to explain. “It just feels all… off. Wrong. Like, I’m a girl and I hate being trapped in a boy’s body. I hate being perceived as a man. Don’t you feel the same when you’re in my body? Like it’s wrong being a girl?”

No, Steve didn’t. But that probably wasn’t helpful to say right now. And it was weird. Shameful. 

If Robin didn’t like boy stuff when she was in Steve’s body, why did he like girl stuff when he was in hers?

“I guess I didn’t think about it so much,” Steve lied. 

“It’s just… ugh! It makes my skin crawl,” Robin said. “And I hate that we switch so much and we can’t control it. I feel like I’m missing my life. I missed my first day of senior year. I barely ever see my parents anymore, and I miss them. They’re threatening to kick me out of band because I’ve missed so many rehearsals, but you can’t play the trumpet so I don’t know what else we’re supposed to do. And I hate never being able to make plans with anyone but the kids because no one else knows about the body-swapping and I can’t ever guarantee I’m going to be in my own body.”

That was a lot. Steve had no idea how to fix any of that. He hadn’t really been bothered by the switching — his only friends all knew about the Upside Down, so if he showed up in Robin’s body to plans he’d made as Steve, no one batted an eye. 

But Robin was different. Robin had a life outside of him and the kids. She had friends and school and band and parents who loved her. 

Of course she would feel like she was missing out on her life. 

“And!” Robin continued, still pacing. “I fucking hated that date. I didn’t know how to drive and I didn’t know what to say. She kept expecting me to be you, and she kept looking all awkward and put-off whenever I answered something like me. And I don’t know a thing about basketball and I hate Grease!”

“Why would you hate-”

“And she kissed me,” Robin said. 

Steve went quiet. 

There were tears in Robin’s eyes. 

“It was the end of the date and she just kissed me, even though the date sucked. Even though she hated every part of me that was actually me. And I’ve never kissed anyone before. It was my first kiss, and it was with a girl, but I was a boy and I was you and she didn’t even like me.”

Robin started crying. 

Steve didn’t know what else to do, so he pulled her into a hug and let her sob into his shoulder. 

“I never thought I’d get to kiss a girl,” Robin said hoarsely. “Or at least not while I was in Hawkins. And then I did and it was all wrong.”

There was so much pain in her voice and it was all Steve’s fault. He never should have asked her to go on that stupid date. He could have just rescheduled instead of putting her in that position. 

She’d said she wasn’t mad at him, but maybe she had just been lying to spare Steve’s feelings. This was all his fault. 

He would have to find a way to fix it. He wasn’t sure how yet, but he would do it. 

Eventually, Robin stopped crying. She pulled out of Steve’s hug, grabbing his hands instead and swinging them between them, looking down so she wouldn’t have to meet his eyes. 

Then she froze, lifting Steve’s hands to her face. Steve tensed for a moment, thinking of the man from Family Video, before he remembered that this was Robin. She wasn’t going to judge him. She was the one who’d painted his nails in the first place. 

“You kept it on,” Robin said. 

“Yeah,” Steve said. 

“You didn’t have to,” Robin said. “Why would you do that?”

Steve shrugged. 

“You can take it off, if you want,” Robin said. “I didn’t mean to stick you with it after we switched back. I just needed to do something to make your body feel more like me.”

Because Robin hated being in Steve’s body. He understood that much, at least. His body came with headaches and a deaf ear and blurry eyesight and dyslexia. And maleness, which Steve hadn’t realized would be strange for Robin.

“I can keep it on,” Steve said. “If it makes you more comfortable when we switch.”

Robin bit her lip, looking hesitant. “It’s still your body, Steve. I don’t want to make it comfortable for me by making it uncomfortable for you.”

Steve was all twisted up inside. He didn’t know how he felt about the nail polish. “I don’t mind it. I can keep it on.”

Robin still hesitated. “People might be… mean. If you keep it on.”

Steve felt hot all over again. Off-balance. 

But what could he say? He couldn’t complain to Robin of all people that he’d gotten called a queer today at work. He would sound like a whiny, self-centered dick. He knew Robin had gotten called slurs before. And it was worse, because for her they were actually true. 

He was just being a baby about this. He had to toughen up and get over it. 

“Please,” he said forcing a smile. “Nobody’s going to say anything to Steve Harrington.”

Robin scanned his face, like she was checking if he was sure, and he gave her his best over-confident smirk, a look he hadn’t really pulled out since the King Steve days. 

Maybe it was because he’d never used this expression on Robin before, but she seemed to believe it. She smiled back at him and he could see that it was real. 

“Thanks, Steve,” she said. “We should get more bottles though. I’m not sure maroon is really your color.”

Steve pretended to be offended. “But I want to match my baby.”

“Your baby?” Robin asked, eyebrows up. 

“My car,” Steve said. 

Robin moaned. “Ugh. It’s bad enough you have a picture of a car hanging in your room. You are not allowed to start calling your car your baby, Steve. I will disown you.”

“You can’t disown me! You literally are me half the time.”

“I can and will disown you,” Robin countered. “I’ll be disowning you as a person, not your body, so I’ll just ignore you. Unless you act normal about cars. No calling them baby, or calling yourself their daddy. That might have been the most traumatizing part of Starcourt, really.”

“That was the most traumatizing part of Starcourt,” Steve repeated incredulously, putting his hands on his hips. 

“Yep,” Robin said, nodding firmly. “That was the most traumatizing part.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “I’ll think about acting normal. You staying over?”

“I guess I should, at this point,” Robin said. “Let me just call my parents.”

Steve caught Robin’s arm as she moved to the phone. “You don’t have to stay. If you miss your parents and you want to see them, you should go home.”

It hurt to say. Steve didn’t want Robin to go. He didn’t want to be alone in his house after being alone at the store all day. 

Maybe Robin could see that, because her expression softened. “No,” she said. “I’ll stay.”

They fell asleep together, Steve finding it much easier to keep the nightmares at bay when he knew Robin was by his side, safe from Russians and monsters. 

He woke up in Robin’s body, wrapped in his own arms. 

***

Steve and Robin spent the weekend together. 

Robin felt terrible about making Steve feel bad. She hadn’t meant to take her anger out on him — she was mad at him, but he hadn’t done anything wrong. He never would have pushed her to go on the stupid date if she’d said no and it wasn’t his fault they were swapping bodies. 

But it was Robin’s fault that Steve had had that look on his face — fearful and desperate and apologetic, like he was afraid that he had irreparably damaged their friendship. 

Sometimes Robin forgot that Steve was as desperate to keep her as she was to keep him. Sometimes a mean little voice in her brain whispered that he was Steve Harrington, that he’d been cool and popular and he had known how to get people to like him. That even now, he was worshipped by a pack of feral children and he was generous and selfless and funny and interesting and that anyone would be lucky to be his friend. He didn’t have to settle for Robin, who couldn’t read social cues and rambled way too much and had never had a real friend before Steve. 

She hated that voice in her head. It was a liar and it was mean to both him and her. Steve might have been popular, but he had never had a close friend before Robin (or maybe Dustin) either. He might be adored by his kids, but he had no friends his own age. And he was incredible in a million ways, but he also thought Robin was incredible and he told her all the time, calling her funny and brave and smart like he didn’t care that she was a socially inept nerd.

She hadn’t meant to hurt him. She hadn’t realized that quietly seething — at him, a little, but also at the injustice of this whole situation — would hurt him more than outright telling him she was upset. 

She should have known better. She knew what had happened in his relationship with Nancy, and while she was nothing like Nancy Wheeler and she definitely wasn’t dating Steve, she knew Steve had a fear of being unintentionally terrible to the people he loved.

He had never been terrible to her, not even once, not even when she’d rejected him or come out to him or made him suffer through period cramps in her body. 

But Robin had been terrible to Steve, on purpose at first when she’d been forced to work with King Steve at Scoops Ahoy and then unintentionally a few times, like yesterday, when she hadn’t taken enough care with Steve’s emotions.

Robin decided to make it up to him. On Saturday morning they cooked breakfast together, making blueberry pancakes and coffee. Then Robin helped Steve re-do the nails he’d painted on her body, showing him how to get the air bubbles out and how to paint it in coats so it could dry in between. Steve watched attentively and held Robin’s hands up proudly when he was done. 

They hung out with the gremlins Saturday afternoon. Back in their own bodies, Steve taught Lucas how to shoot hoops while Robin played a vicious game of Monopoly against Dustin and Mike. 

“How come your nails are red?” Dustin asked Steve when Steve and Lucas came in from the driveway, sweaty and panting. 

“I painted them,” Robin said. Mike landed on Park Place and Robin grinned as she charged him an exorbitant amount of money. Capitalism was so fun when it was fictional and she was winning.

“Isn’t that weird though?” Mike asked. “Having your nails painted?”

Steve tensed. Robin had been waiting for the moment he gave up on the painted nails as too feminine or too gay, and apparently Mike’s question was that moment. Robin had honestly thought he would last until at least Monday. 

“Munson has his nails painted,” Steve said cattily, which wasn’t what Robin had expected at all.

Mike rolled his eyes. “Yeah, cause it’s metal. You’re too preppy to pull off painted nails.”

Steve looked a little dumbfounded and Robin hid a grin. Apparently the kids’ problem wasn’t with a man having his nails painted, it was with Steve doing it. 

“Steve’s metal,” Lucas said. 

Mike scoffed. “How?”

“He has a bat full of nails,” Lucas said reasonably. “That’s pretty metal.”

“See, Wheeler?” Steve boasted. “I’m metal enough to paint my nails.”

Mike scowled. “I’m more metal than you are.”

They all looked at Mike, scrawny as a beanpole and dressed in horrifically mismatched clothing. Robin felt a bit blinded by the bright colors he was wearing. 

Dustin was the first one to start laughing, but they all eventually joined in. 

Mike grumbled, crossing his arms defensively. “Will would’ve agreed with me.”

“You mean he would have lied to spare your feelings,” Dustin teased. 

Mike yelped and launched a pillow at Dustin, who threw one back, and then they were all engaged in a pillow fight with Steve’s mom’s fancy throw pillows. Robin used to opportunity to whack at Mike and Dustin, who were objectively the most annoying of the children. She was about to get Dustin from behind when all of a sudden she was looming over Lucas, all the way across the room. 

Robin lost her balance and fell, straight onto Lucas, who let out a high-pitched yelp as her elbows and knees hit him. 

“Sorry,” Robin gasped, rolling off him. “I didn’t know Steve was doing fucking acrobatics during a pillow fight.”

Lucas’s head jerked sharply. “Woah. Robin?”

Robin nodded. 

Lucas smiled and lifted a pillow, smacking it across Robin’s face. As Robin sputtered, he said “that’s for using illegal weapons in a pillow fight. No elbows!”

“Oh, you’re on, Sinclair.”

As Robin tried to murder Lucas with a pillow, she thought that this was what she was missing in the rest of her life; people who watched her switch bodies with Steve and then just kept going like it was normal. She hated dropping into her body in the middle of a customer interaction at Family Video, when the customer would get mad at having to repeat the name of the movie they were looking for. She hated dropping into her body mid-conversation with Kate, unsure what the hell they were talking about and getting weird looks for babbling more off-topic than usual. She hated her inability to know where she was going to be at any given minute, or who she was going to be. 

But with Steve’s kids, who’d been to hell and back and didn’t think a bit of body-swapping was the weirdest thing they’d ever seen, she almost felt normal. 

“Let’s get Steve,” Robin whispered to Lucas. They crept up behind Steve — which was so weird, watching the back of her own head as Steve used her body to fight off Dustin and Mike — and jumped at him, whacking him with pillows. 

Steve shrieked — high-pitched with Robin’s vocal cords — and spun, narrowing his eyes at Robin in his body. 

“Oh, it’s on, Buckley.”

[nethhiri]

Siren Charms: Chapter 15

Zoro x Siren!Reader

Warnings: blood

Murky Waters

The entire ship was awoken by a bloodcurdling scream the next morning. Usopp stood in front of the aquarium, shaking, as the rest of the Straw Hats ran in. A few gasped and covered their mouths. The water in it was murky red and there was not a single fish to be seen. There was, however, a dark shape in the center, slowly moving towards the glass. Your front half came into view, face up. Your mouth was open and your eyes were closed. It looked like you were a floating half of a body. 

"Oh my god. She's dead!" 

"Is there a shark?!"

You floated closer to the glass until there was a soft bonk as your forehead connected with it. Your eyes flew open, causing more screams, including from yourself. Everyone looked upside-down to you, and not just because you were hungover. You spun yourself around to be facing them and your tail came into view. It seemed neither Robin, Franky, nor Zoro had told anyone about yesterday's discovery, because everyone who was not them was pointing and yelling. You pressed your hands on the glass and waved. It was difficult to hear, but you heard someone distinctly say the 'm' word.

"Not. A. Mermaid." You poked the glass with every word. The water distorted your voice, but you made sure they understood. You looked around. "How do I get out?"

"How did you get in!?" Nami yelled. 

Sanji gleefully skipped off to the hatch that led from the deck to the aquarium. "I'm coming, darling!" 

There was a rectangle of light that revealed itself several minutes later and you swam to it. You poked your head through and then pulled the rest of your body out. You slapped the hatch closed with your tail and rolled on your back, groaning. Your stomach was killing you, from the drinking or from the one or two fish you ate, you didn't know. You must have sniffed out the fish when you were near-drunk.

"Holy shit," Nami's mouth hung open. 

The rest of the gang was similarly surprised by the sight. You were a lot bigger than a mermaid would be proportionally, your tail was longer and your fins were bigger. The black scales glittered in the sunlight in a way that made them look like thousands of small rainbows, something that was not visible in the murky water.

"I think somebody ate all your fish." You said nonchalantly. "Probably that mermaid girl."

"Yeah, somebody." Usopp eyed you. "You have something there." He pointed at the side of his mouth. 

You reached up and wiped your mouth with the back of your hand, brushing away a scale that was not your own. "I might have had one."

"My darling Ether should be able to eat whatever she desires." Sanji dramatically put the back of his hand on his forehead. "Though it pains me deeply to think she was so hungry, she ate unseasoned, raw fish." 

"I'm pretty sure it wasn't me." It definitely was, but you couldn't actually remember. 

"Do you know how long it took to get that many fish?" Usopp whined. "It's going to take forever to get more. What if we run out of food and have to resort to eating each other!?"

"I call Zoro," you said way too quickly. "I mean I'll help get more fish. Even though it for sure wasn't me." Everybody was staring. "What?! He has the most meat." 

Luffy had his fingers in an L-shape, resting on his chin. "You have a point."

"Hah?! Look at her she's way bigger than me." Zoro pointed at you. 

"Only sometimes!" 

"We could be the first people to try siren sashimi," Robin mused.

"When you put it that way, I bet we could sell it for a fortune," Nami was lost in a daydream. 

"Nobody has to eat anybody. It'll be a cinch to catch more." Franky piped up. "Check it out. While you guys were arguing over who to eat first, I made this crazy awesome winch with a giant net. We plop it in the water, Ether can chase fish into it, we pull it up, and whammo-blammo we got a buffet, baby! Wa-OW!" 

"Wonderful idea, Franky," Robin patted him on the arm. 

"That sure was fast," Usopp commented.

Hachi and Camie, who were asleep in their own ship, still tethered to Sunny, heard the commotion and came on deck. They were both wide-eyed when they saw you, and Camie moved behind Hachi, along with her starfish. 

"Ah... You guys didn't mention you had a siren on the crew." Hachi might have been more wary had he known. He couldn't tell just from looking at you now. You sort of resembled one of those exotic, deep-sea mermaid types. He had seen you yesterday with wings though, and could put it all together. 

"I thought they were made-up!" Camie hid further behind the fish-man. "They used to tell us as kids that if we misbehaved, they would leave us in the middle of nowhere for the sirens to eat."

You snickered at that. 

"You don't have to worry about that now. She's probably pretty full from eating our entire aquarium's worth of fish," Usopp grumbled.

"I told you already. That probably wasn't me!" You slapped the deck with your tail, causing Camie to flinch. 

The plan was explained to everyone, and Camie and Hachi were enlisted to help as well. You decided to wait until dusk, when the fish were more active. In the meantime, you were guilted into helping clean the aquarium of bones and other debris, while the water was changed. You hugged your tail when you were done, floating around aimlessly, stomach still killing you. It was around mid-afternoon when you heard clinking, rousing you from a half-asleep state. You turned to see Zoro taking a bottle from the bar outside the aquarium. He saw you watching and walked over, opening whatever his drink of choice was on the way. 

"Hey."

You swam closer to him, bringing yourself eye to eye. 

He stared at his drink a minute before looking, not directly at you, but sort of past you, so he didn't have to meet your eye. "I, uh, didn't mean to hurt your feelings yesterday." He ran a hand through his hair and scratched the back of his head. "I'm, uh, glad you took it out on the fish instead of eating me. Since apparently, um, I'm your first choice." 

You looked him up and down. "I didn't take you for the apologizing type." 

"I'm a nice guy!" Zoro paused. "I guess you haven't really gotten to see that though since I've been keeping my distance."

"And if you had gotten to know me, you would see there's no- barely any reason to keep your distance." 

Zoro grunted and took a drink. 

"Guess we have to get to know each other, huh?" You winked at him. 

Zoro choked the sip down and mumbled a goodbye, leaving abruptly. 

Sheesh. Normally your flirting made people stick around. Actually your feelings may have been more hurt by him running away just now, than by his words yesterday. You went to the hatch and pulled yourself out on deck. It wasn't comfortable to move across wood in this form. You positioned yourself to roll towards the railing. Then from there, it was easy to pull yourself up and over, diving into the water. Your goggles and mask were snuggly on your head, acting as a headband. You only used them in combat for the most part. You didn't need the mask to breathe or the goggles to see, they just aided those things when you were moving very high, very deeply, or very quickly. 

You passed time swimming around at a leisurely pace. When the fish started to become more active, you started rounding them up, chasing them towards the ship. The sun was sinking below the horizon and the sky was gradually darkening. Hachi and Camie did the same as you from flanking sides. Only when the winch started to whine with the weight of their catch, did they stop. Franky was able to craft it in a way where the fish were deposited directly into the aquarium through the hatch. 

"We only lost a day to stocking up, thanks to this one," Nami tilted her head in your direction, "but we're still making good time."

"I don't know what you're talking about," you retorted, not-so-subtly pointing at Camie. You were on deck with your tail curled under you, observing the fish be dumped into the tank. 

"I'm startin to think maybe I ate the fish," Luffy mused.

"No, Luffy. You didn't." Nami rolled her eyes. 

The nap from earlier prevented you from finding rest that night. You had shed your tail before dinner and were walking on deck without purpose, every so often looking up at the stars. Sometimes when you were on your own, you would float on your back and watch the sky. Your eyes caught the lights of the crow's nest. Maybe you could lay on the roof of it and you would eventually fall asleep. You figured Zoro was up there since the lights were on, so you grabbed a bottle of booze to bring up to him as a token of good will. You knocked on the hatch and invited yourself in. You could have flown up but you didn't want to waste your energy on wings just to get to the roof. 

"Hi. Brought ya something." You set the bottle by Zoro, who was cleaning his swords. Then you headed towards the top hatch. 

"Thanks." He didn't look up from what he was doing. 

You went to the roof and laid out, thinking about your time with the Straw Hats so far. It hadn't been that long, and you had been apprehensive at first, but you did like being with them. It was weird to have people that did things for you and it was weirder for you to do things for them, but it felt nice. You weren't sure how much time had passed when you heard the hatch open. 

"Uh, hey, Ether." Zoro pointed to the sword around your waist. "Do you want me to do yours?"

"Hm? Do what?"

"Clean your sword."

"Why does it need to be cleaned? It's in the ocean all the time."

A vein popped out on Zoro's forehead. "Are you saying you don't clean it AND it's in salt water all the time?" You didn't answer him. "Come on." He disappeared down the hatch.

You followed him and handed over your sword. You sat next to him on the bench.

"It's actually not that bad."

"Yeah cuz the ocean water cleans it." 

Zoro shot you a look. 

"I'm only teasing. Jeez you take swords seriously."

"I have to if I'm gonna be the world's greatest swordsman." 

You watched him as he worked with your blade, making sure to clean between each of its joints. "You're the only swordsman I've ever met, so you're already the greatest to me." He cursed under his breath and stuck his finger in his mouth. That wasn't even meant to be flirtatious and he turned pink. You were only stating facts. Then the grin on your face faltered when you smelled the sweet iron of blood.

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