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officialaemondtargaryen · 1 year ago

Text

is it casual now?

Prompt: You and Eddie totally aren't dating, right?

Characters: Eddie Munson x Reader, brief mentions of Steve Harrington x Reader.

Word Count: ~5.5k

Author’s Note: Happy birthday @felteppsters

Playlist: Casual by Chappell Roan

Warnings: Smut & fluff.

If you had a dollar for every time someone asked if you and The Freak were dating, you'd have made four dollars this week alone.

And it's only Tuesday.

You didn't go out of your way to spend time with Eddie Munson, and he never once asked if you wanted to hang out outside of school, but somehow you always managed to find yourself getting fingered in the back of his van in the parking lot during study hall. And he was known to drop a note in your locker on occasion asking you to meet him in that one bathroom that no one ever used for a quickie during lunch.

But that was neither here nor there.

The point was that people were beginning to notice.

It wasn't a bad thing. It's not like dating Eddie would ruin your reputation- despite what some people would say. It was just that when people asked if you and Eddie were dating, you didn't know how to answer because you, yourself, were not exactly sure what that answer was.

So you just said no, and you probably said it a little too defensively.

Does hooking up occasionally count as dating? No. In order to be dating someone you had to at least go out on an actual date, right? The night he took you to his trailer to 'fuck you in a real bed' and ordered pizza delivery didn't count, either, no matter how long you cuddled with him afterwards.

"I heard a rumor," it was Robin. She fell in step with you as you both exited fourth-period Algebra and headed toward the cafeteria. "And I just need a little bit of clarification, so forgive me if what I'm about to ask is-"

"I swear to God, Robin, if you're about to ask me if I'm dating Eddie Munson," you held up your hand and cut her off, stopping short in the middle of the hallway; your boots scuffing the speckled white tile floor, causing a slight traffic jam of bodies.

"What!?" She gasped. Either she was a really great actress or she genuinely hadn't heard. "There's a rumor going around that you're dating Eddie Munson?"

"No?" you deflected and picked up the pace. "What did you hear?"

"That you're dating Eddie Munson." With that, your face fell and she pulled her lips between her teeth to keep herself from laughing. "Well, is it true? Because Maria Fuentes heard from Charlie Dawson that Tina saw you guys in the parking lot last Friday and she did not hold back on the details."

"First of all," you said stopping at your locker. "I feel violated."

"Well, you were, you know-" Robin held up her fingers and made a lewd gesture causing you to cringe.

"Second of all-" You began again, only to be cut off by a folded piece of paper falling from your locker to the floor as you opened the flimsy, metal door. You could feel the heat rising to your cheeks as Robin quickly bent down and snatched the note from under you before you had the chance.

"You were saying?" She asked, a playful smirk pulling at her lips as she dodged every one of your attempts to take the note back from her. "Meet me. You know where. Signed, E.M." She read aloud. "Oh, look, there's even a little heart. That is so cute!"

"Second of all," you repeated after you had snatched the crumpled paper from her hands. "We are not dating."

Eddie's lips were on yours the moment the bathroom door closed behind you; before you were even able to flip the lock. You hadn't seen him since last Friday, and you could easily tell that he had gotten needy over the weekend. You wanted to enjoy the moment, but all that you could think about was this rumor.

He took a few steps forwards, pushing you back to the double sink until you were sitting on the counter; pushing himself between your legs, his hands falling to your sides, fingertips digging into your flesh. His lips were everywhere, biting and sucking hungrily as he squeezed every inch of your body he could get his hands on.

You placed your palm firmly on his chest and lightly pushed him away from you. He took a step back and you took in his appearance; tight denim jeans, a flannel wrapped around his hips, t-shirt just slightly messy enough to reveal a scruffy happy trail below his navel. His jeans were especially tight in the crotch, and his eyes were dark with desperation as he returned your gaze. He ducked his head to meet your lips once again, but you turned your head and ensured his lips fell to your cheek instead.

"Something's definitely up with you," he said softly as he placed another kiss on your temple.

He looked so good and made you feel so good, you just wanted to pull him back down to you and fuck him in this bathroom for the umpteenth time, but you couldn't. He stepped back and pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his back pocket; looking so cool as he placed one between his lips and took a long drag, sending smoke billowing around the tiny room.

"You haven't heard?" You asked. He shrugged. "Someone saw us Friday in your van and now the entire school thinks we're dating."

"Oh," he let our a sarcastic chuckle. "And that's a problem for you, I guess? Can't be seen with the freak, right?"

"No," you rolled your eyes at the fact that he would even suggest that. "I just didn't know if- are we?"

He shrugs again, shoving his hands into his pockets. "I thought it was just casual."

"Casual?" You ask, and he nods. "Okay, well, I have to go. My next class is all the way on the other side of the building and I don't want to be late."

He can tell by your tone that you're upset.

"What do you want me to say?" He asks, making one last attempt to make you stay as you pick up your book bag from the floor.

"Nothing."

"You're pissed," he actually reached for you this time, but you shrugged him off.

"No," you replied. "I'm just-" you paused for a moment looking for the right words. "I'm casual." He winced. "Have a good day, Eddie."

You wanted to slam the door in his face, but it wasn't that type of door, so you opted for storming off loudly. As you rounded the corner you knocked shoulders with some girl from the Cheerleading squad who yelled at you to watch where you were going, but you didn't care to respond. Your legs were carrying you as quickly as they could without breaking into a full sprint down the halls of Hawkins High.

It wasn't a lie when you stated that your next class was on the other side of the school. You were sweating by the time you reached your desk. Robin had gotten there first, slumped back in her assigned seat with a smirk on her face as you sat down, trying to catch your breath.

"Long commute?" She asked, her voice laced with sarcasm.

"Shut the hell up, Buckley." You snapped.

"Uh oh," she held her hands up in defense. "Must be some trouble in paradise."

"I told you earlier, Eddie and I are not dating."

"Roger that."

The last bell couldn't come soon enough. All that you wanted to do was get home and get into bed- and preferably cry into a bowl of ice cream. You'd have never imagined yourself crying over the likes of Eddie Munson, but the thought of losing whatever it was that you had with him was upsetting.

He was your friend, after all. You had a lot in common with him. He could make you laugh and there was no shortage of conversation when you were around him. He was always getting shit from his friends, but you loved the fact that he never shut the hell up. And when there wasn't a conversation to be had, there was always music; whether it was his long list of cassette tapes or him strumming away on his guitar, there was never a dull moment.

And here you were ruining it over a label.

Robin held the door open for you as you both stepped out into the warm summer weather. Waves of students began lining up in the parking lot for their respective busses, but you typically walked home when the weather was nice.

"So since you're not dating Eddie Munson," Robin began and you couldn't help but roll your eyes so hard that it almost gave you a headache. "I was wondering if you might want to go on a double date with Vickie and myself?"

"A double date typically involves two couples."

"Right, you're absolutely right." Robin was stuttering. "I have this friend and he is also single. Problem solved."

"Steve?"

"Yeah."

"No."

"Wh- Why?"

"Because I have nothing in common with Steve and Steve is a prick," you replied bluntly.

Robin rolled her eyes. "He's actually not, like, at all. Besides, I talk about you all the time to him and he said that he would really like to meet you."

"He must have forgotten that he spent the majority of my freshman and sophomore year bullying me with Tommy H and Carole," you muttered under your breath.

Your friend reached out and grabbed you by the shoulder, stopping you in place and spinning you around to face her. A sigh escaped your lips as you looked her in the eye.

"That was a long time ago. I wasn't a huge fan of him when I first met him, either." She gave you a lopsided smile and you found her attempts to win her friend a date with you amusing. "I promise you that it's worth a shot. So, if you change your mind, we're going roller skating on Saturday night."

"You rollerskating?" You laughed and heard a car honk a few times as it pulled up.

"You're so funny!" She stated sarcastically.

Steve gave you a derpy smile as he rolled the passenger side window down. He was wearing his Family Video vest. "Good afternoon, ladies." He called out smoothly, you returned with a small wave.

"Sleep on it?" Robin asked as she opened the door to Steve's car.

"Fine," you rolled your eyes. "I'll think about it."

Robin smiled as she ducked into the passenger seat and closed the door behind her. "I'll see you tomorrow!"

Saturday came sooner than expected, and you had to admit that you were nervous. If someone had told you a year ago that you'd be going on a date with Steve Harrington, you'd probably punch them in the throat. Hell, if someone told you that a week ago, you'd still be swinging.

You had avoided Eddie at all costs throughout the rest of the week. Though, you'd be lying if you said that you weren't a little disappointed there were no notes left in your locker, or that he didn't find some way to talk to you after you left him standing in that bathroom Tuesday afternoon. You even waited up some nights hoping for a phone call or a pebble on the window, but none came.

It took over an hour and half to pick an outfit. Almost every article of clothing you owned was crumpled on the floor or tossed on the bed as you tried on a dozen different outfit combinations. It was the roller rink, so you wanted to be comfortable, but it was technically a date, so you also wanted to at least seem like you tried. Finally, as the clock ticked closer to seven, you decided on jeans, an off-shoulder top, and your Converse. You really didn't care to impress Steve Harrington; you didn't care in freshman and sophomore year and you certainly didn't now.

"I thought you said you had a date," your mother mentioned as you stepped into the living room. She was on the couch watching Who's The Boss, a jar of mixed nuts in her lap.

"I am," you replied as you shrugged into your denim jacket. She looked you up and down and you rolled your eyes. "We're going rollerskating; comfort was the priority!"

The distant sound of a car horn honking interrupted the conversation, prompting you to glance out the front door. Steve, acting as the evening's chauffeur, awaited with Robin and Vickie in the backseat.

"Don't be out too late," your mother muttered between mouthfuls of peanuts. "But enjoy yourself."

As the heavy glass door swung open, a wave of familiar sounds and vibrant colors enveloped your senses. The Rollerdome was typically busy on a Saturday night, but tonight it seemed everyone in Hawkins had the same idea to go skating. The neon lights that adorned the rink's interior created a kaleidoscope of vivid hues; fluorescent pinks, electric blues, and neon greens adorned the walls, blending with the glow of disco balls suspended from the ceiling. Upbeat pop music and the thud of roller skates on the smooth, wooden floors flooded your ears as Robin and Steve bickered over which table to claim for the evening.

"I vote this one," Robin declared with unwavering confidence, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "That way, we've got front-row seats to all the wipeouts!"

"That is the exact reason why no one sits at this table, Robin," Steve countered with exasperation. "Everyone knows that the floor is slick there and when someone takes a spill, it's usually right into the table." He pauses before looking at you. "Bye-bye chili dogs."

You can't help but suppress a small smile, "I think it's perfect. If there's a chance one of those uppity assholes comes flying face first into our table, it'll be the highlight of my entire year."

"Can't argue with that logic," Steve added quickly. "Good choice, Robin."

She rolled her eyes and dragged Vickie off towards the rental counter. You casually tossed your bag on the top of the table; a clear marker that it was claimed. Steve removed his jacket and placed it next to your bag before running a hand through his thick, dark hair. It was clear that he was nervous as his eyes darted around the roller rink. He definitely didn't give off the same 'King Steve' aura that you remembered so well.

Maybe you'd give him a chance.

Just kidding.

You turned on your heel and walked off towards the snack bar, drawn in by the delicious aroma of extra cheese pizza and buttered popcorn, leaving Steve scrambling to catch up with your determined stride. Robin wanted a pretzel and a Coke slushy while Vickie had asked for cheese fries and an orange soda. You wanted nachos but agreed when Steve ordered to split a pizza, doing his best to impress you as he paid for everyone, but instead, all he got out of you was a slight eye roll. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Vickie lead a wobbly Robin out onto the rink. A chuckle escaped your lips as you witnessed their valiant attempts to navigate the rink without falling prey to the more seasoned skaters.

"So what are you into?" Steve asked as he filled up his drink at the fountain machine. "What do you like?"

"Uh," you weren't really sure what to say. You still couldn't really get past the fact that Steve Harrington was trying to have a conversation with you. "I like music."

"Yeah?" He asked. "I like music."

"Cool."

"This is a good song," he replied and pointed awkwardly to the overhead speakers while Another One Bites The Dust by Queen played loudly.

You couldn't help but think of the irony and did your best to suppress a laugh before Steve got the impression that you thought he was funny. Oh, how this date was failing epically; which you were already anticipating, so at least you hadn't gotten your hopes up about it. Steve was almost trying too hard to force a spark between the two of you, but without Robin around- which was often because she was too busy flailing about on her skates while Vickie tried her hardest to keep her from falling- it was absolutely boring.

At least the two of them seemed to be having a good time.

As the night continued on, you found yourself gradually shedding the initial reserve that had clung to you like a second skin. The pulsating rhythm of the music, the laughter of your friends, and the infectious joy of gliding across the smooth floor started to work its magic. A genuine smile tugged at the corners of your lips as Steve, Vickie, and Robin circled the rink alongside you, sharing jokes and banter.

"I need something to drink!" You yelled over the music at your friends before carefully exiting the floor onto the carpet.

Steve exited with you, gliding up to the table with ease; moving around you to the music, dancing on his skates. The hesitant glances you'd given him earlier transformed into playful exchanges, and you couldn't help but admit that his efforts to charm you had slowly but surely begun to work.

As Robin and Vickie continued to skate around the rink, something caught your eyes in the corner; a familiar, curly head of brown hair in the back towards the arcade. He was leaning against the wall, arms crossed, his brown eyes pinned to you as his friends huddled around one of the pinball machines.

You smirked softly as the music changed. In the background you could hear Steve talking, but you were too busy having a staring contest with Eddie from across the room.

"So what d'ya say?" Steve asked.

"What?" You asked, reluctantly tearing your eyes away from Eddie.

"It's a slow song," he mentioned. You could see a blush creeping to his cheeks. "Did you want to couple's skate?"

You agreed, allowing Steve to take your hand and lead you out onto the rink. It was wrong of you to use Steve in the way that you were, especially since you were just starting to like him. But the satisfaction that you felt seeing Eddie roll his eyes as you and your date skated by was too good to pass up. And yes, you faked the giggles and latched on to Steve's arm a little more with each time you passed Eddie, really twisting that knife as much as you could.

But hey, it was just "casual" right?

As the song came to a close and Steve led you by the hand back to your table. You couldn't help yourself but to glance back to the corner of the rink towards the arcade, only to see Eddie push himself off of the wall and stomp off towards the exit.

"I'll be right back," you called over to Steve as the song ended. "I need to get some fresh air."

"I'll come with!" Steve offered but you placed a hand on his arm to stop him before he could unlace his skates.

"I'll be okay," you assured him with a sweet smile. "I'll be right back."

Hurriedly, you unlaced your skates and shoved your feet into your worn-down tennis shoes before chasing after Eddie. The summer air was still very humid as you stepped out of the cool air conditioning and into the parking lot. The sunset was barely lingering on the horizon and the sky was a mixture of periwinkle and orange. To your right, you could see Eddie walking away from you and towards his van.

"Hey!" You called to him. He turned around to see it was you and threw his head back dramatically before turning back to his van. "What is your problem?"

"Steve Harrington, really?" He spat, turning to you once again.

"Oh, come off it!" You replied, closing the gap between you. "Jealousy does not suit you, babe."

"Steve fucking Harrington?" He asked again. "I mean what do you even talk about with that guy? Different variations of the color beige?"

"At least he can stand to be seen with me in public!"

You were standing toe-to-toe with him now, chests heaving. His eyes squinted as he stared down at you.

"You want to be seen in public?" He asked. "Careful what you ask for, princess."

Before you could protest, his hands were on your shoulders, maneuvering you to his van; walking you backward until your back was pressed up against the side door. "Hopefully Harrington will wander out here looking for you." He reached a hand behind you, swinging the door open, and pushed you in. "He gives me the impression of someone who likes to watch."

Eddie crawled into the van after you, leaving the door open, not caring who saw or heard. His lips were on yours in an instant. You moaned as he ducked his head into your neck, working your nerves as he popped the button on your jeans. He didn't even care to pull them all the way off, or your shoes for that matter. As soon as he had pulled your pants down far enough to expose your pussy to him, he held your legs over his head and began thumbing your clit; spreading a slick coat of wetness along your swollen lips. He lifted you up, throwing your legs over his shoulder as his tongue hungrily delved into your core.

You gasped in surprise, hands flying to his hair, wrapping around the thick of his roots. You could hear him fumbling with his belt buckle as his tongue worked your dripping folds. Once he had freed his girthy cock, he lowered you down, still holding your legs over his shoulders with his arms now snaked around your thighs as he lined himself up with your core.

Without warning, he shoved his cock into the deepest part of you, feeling you tighten and loosen around his length. You moaned loudly, forgetting that the side door to his van was still wide open.

"Should I send you back to King Steve filled with my cum?" He grunted as he thrusted against you. "Let him hold your hand as you feel me dripping into those cute, little panties?"

Your eyes rolled back as he continued to pump into you.

"Look at you," he whimpered, so close already to finding his own release. He dragged his thumb across your bottom lip and you took his digit into you mouth. "Fuck!"

You could feel his cock pulsing against your walls as he filled you with warm ribbons of his cum. Eddie crashed on top of you, his face buried in your neck as he tried to catch his breath. Your hands moved to his shoulders, pushing him off of you with a sigh. You were already pulling your jeans up over your hips and fixing your shirt.

"What is it now?" He asked.

"It's nothing, Eddie." You replied.

"Oh, it's something."

You said nothing and stood up out of his van. Half of you wanted to just walk away and leave him there, like you had on Tuesday, but you couldn't do that again. You were miserable after the first time you did that- so miserable that you agreed to go on a date with Steve Harrington, of all people. This time you turned to him, looking him dead in the eye as you tried to find the right words.

"I'm not just some easy girl, Eddie." You spat at him. "I allowed you to fuck me in the parking lot, and in the bathroom, and in the auditorium that one time because I like you. I guess- I just thought that you liked me, too. I thought I was more than just some girl that you go down on in the passenger seat of your van, but I was wrong."

He opened his mouth to say something, but you held your hand up to stop him, wanting to get it all out.

"You just want sex," you continued. "You don't want to date me, you don't want me to be your girlfriend, you just want something casual, and I'm not that."

"What are you, then?" He asked.

"Leaving."

He said nothing as he watched you turn away, leaving him completely dumbfounded. For once, you felt like you had the upper-hand in this game the two of you had been playing for months now.

The walk from Eddie's van to the front doors of the Rollerdome felt like miles as the gravel of the pavement crackled beneath your feet with each step. You half expected him to run after you, take you in his arms, and confess his love for you, but you were met with nothing but silence. With a final glance over your shoulder, you reentered the roller rink, leaving Eddie to grapple with the unspoken complexities that lingered in the warm, Summer air.

The electric energy of the rink greeted you, once again; a stark contrast to the mood you had created in the parking lot. You didn't want to be here any longer and decided upon re-entry that you were just going to go home. Robin, Vickie, and Steve were all huddled around the table as another slow ballad played loudly through the speakers.

"There you are!" Robin greeted with a lukewarm slice of pizza in her hand. She took immediate notice of your changed demeanor and asked, "is everything okay?"

"No," you replied quickly as you grabbed your jacket. "I think I am just going to go home."

"Home?" Robin asked. "Now?" She stood up and pulled you over to the side away from Steve and Vickie. "Does this have anything to do with Eddie? I saw you running out after him earlier."

"Just forget it, Robin, okay?" You sighed as you turned towards her. You looked over her shoulder to see Steve and Vickie watching you. You lowered your voice, "It's over, okay? Yes, I'm upset about it and I hate that I'm upset about it. I wasn't expecting to actually like him."

Robin sighed, "I didn't realize it was like that, I'm sorry."

You shrug your shoulders and shove your hands in your jacket pockets. "It's fine, I'll get over it."

She gave you a half smile, "can we at least give you a ride. I'm sure Steve won't mind driving."

"I'm just going to walk," you muttered. "It's not far."

"Alright, catch you on Monday! Last week of senior year!" She exclaimed and raised her hands, mimicking pompoms for added flair. She outstretched her arms and wrapped them around you and provided a tight squeeze.

"Can't wait," you groaned unenthusiastically.

Monday came and went and before you knew it, the final bell of Friday rang throughout those hideous green and gold hallways as a sea of graduates congregated in the gym; tossing their shimmering green caps into the air, signaling the beginning of the rest of your lives. In one hand, your diploma and in the other, your yearbook filled with well-wishes and promises to keep in touch-- most of which you hoped would forever be unkept.

Robin found you outside in the courtyard after she had managed to escape her parents.

"Here's to the first summer of the rest of our lives," she said breathlessly. "Steve and I are going to the mall if you want to come, spend some of this graduation cash from my grandparents."

"I'm okay," you smiled at her. "Raincheck?"

"If you say so," she rolled her eyes. "Where are your folks?"

"My dad had a little too many of those little sandwiches they were giving out," you made a face. "Mom had to take him home early."

"I'm sure my parents could give you a ride home, if you wanted," she said with a soft smile.

Over her shoulder you watched as Eddie, still draped in his cap and gown, rushed off towards the back of the parking lot. "That's okay, I have a ride," you replied with a smirk.

You gave her a hug and slipped away; turning on your heel and escaping the crowd through the parking lot. As the cars grew thin, you noticed a familiar white van in the back, parked in its usual spot. The side door was open and Eddie was sitting in the back; a cigarette in between his lips and his guitar in his lap. His diploma was tossed up on the dashboard, and his cap and gown were tossed in the passenger seat.

He strummed skillfully as you walked up the side of his van. His eyes were lulled shut and his head was titled back on the headrest. He hummed softly and your lips couldn't help turning into a smile. He was so undeniably perfect and he didn't even know it.

"Is that new?" You had been hanging out with Eddie long enough now to know his songs by heart. He always asked your opinion on his songwriting.

His eyes fluttered open, but his fingers continued strumming. You could see his gaze taking you in as you effortlessly leaned against the passenger door. He shrugged lazily and tilted his head back once again, staring up at the scuffed metal ceiling of his van.

"I was feeling inspired," he finally replied as he exhaled smoke out of the corner of his mouth. "It's about a terrible, evil temptress who collects the souls of the men of the realm." You quirked an eyebrow at him. "Until one day, she meets a kind and handsome young man who doesn't have a soul to give. So instead, he gives her his heart."

"Sounds a bit dramatic," you replied as you tried to hide the smile creeping to your lips, once more.

"I was thinking about the other night," his fingers stopped strumming as he reached up to pull the cigarette from his lips. He exhaled another cloud of smoke.

"Oh?"

"Yeah, see," he took another drag from his smoke. "I do like you and I do want you to be my girlfriend, always have."

You threw up your hands, "It's hard for me to believe that, Eddie! We fuck nearly every day but you can't take me out on one date? How am I supposed to believe that you want me to be your girlfriend if you can't even respect me enough to take me out!?"

"We have too gone on dates! I bought you pizza that one time!" He exclaimed as he set his guitar back down in the case and snapped it shut. "And we watched your favorite movie!"

"We watched Troll," you deadpanned.

"Yeah, we did," he replied as he stood up out of the van. He towered over you as he stood up straight. "And after it was over you said that it was your new favorite movie."

"I was being SARCASTIC!"

"God damnit!" He spat right back.

"You took me back to your trailer because you were tired of fucking me in this van!" His jaw dropped at the accusation. "And the only reason you ordered pizza was because there was nothing else to eat and you struggle to even microwave a frozen TV dinner!"

His hand flew over his chest as he gasped. "You really are an evil and terrible temptress! Your words are venomous!"

You sighed, "Tell me honestly... is there something wrong with me?"

"You think there's something wrong with you?" Eddie asks, a small laugh escaping his perfect lips. He shakes his head and moves his hands up your arms to your shoulders, looking at your straight on. "Sweetheart, you're perfect."

A blush creeps to your cheeks and you can practically feel yourself melting in his hands.

"You're perfect, like, way too good for me," he continued, a bashful grin playing on his lips. "I should've said it before, a million times."

"You think?" You asked.

"Let's just start over, okay?" He pleaded and jutted his hand out to you as if he was asking for a handshake. "Hi, I'm Eddie. Will you be my girlfriend?"

You narrowed your eyes as you glanced down at his hand, pursing your lips in a futile attempt to suppress a smile. Fuck, you hated how goddamn charming he was. Giving up fully to him, you accepted his hand. Though, before you could utter a single word, he pulled you in for a lingering kiss that left you breathless.

"Say yes," he whispered as he pulled away, his lips hovering just above yours.

"Yes," you whispered as you look up into his dark brown eyes.

#Eddie munson #Eddie munson x y/n #Eddie munson x reader #Eddie munson fic #Eddie munson imagine #Eddie munson fluff #Eddie munson drabble #Eddie munson smut #Eddie munson x you #stranger things #Steve harrington #robin buckley #Joseph quinn #stranger things fic #stranger things imagine #stranger things x you #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things x reader

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belokhvostikova · 1 year ago

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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.

#stranger things #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #steve harrington #robin buckley #dustin henderson

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keeryhours · 2 months ago

Text

Masterlist

Scream: The Hawkins Massacre Masterlist

More of a horror story than a romance, but features Eddie Munson x female! reader

Summary: It’s fall of 1990. The peaceful small town of Hawkins is shook to its core when a string of murders begin, and it’s up to the Party to solve the murders - and stay alive.

Warnings: (18+) Violence, blood, character deaths, smut, general horror movie vibes, check individual chapter warnings

Note: Inspired by the Scream movies, but not the same. This story features all characters, aged up because of the violence - Mike, Will, Dustin, Lucas, Max, and El are 18. Nancy, Jonathan, Robin, Argyle, Jason, and Reader are 22. Billy, Steve, and Tommy are 23, and Eddie is 24.

Act I - coming very soon

Act II

Act III

Act IV

Act V

dividers by @/strangergraphics

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bookshelf-dust · 2 years ago

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healing

billy hargrove x gn!reader

word count: 5,445

warnings: swearing, smoking, mentions of past trauma (starcourt), slight sexual innuendos??

a/n: hi! remember when i made you do a poll for my 1k celebration? and one bed with billy won? well this is that fic! i'm sorry it took so long to get here, but school was kicking the ever loving shit out of me. anyways, i really hope you like it. it's a little different than other fics i've written, but i think that's a good thing. just for context, this is post the end of season three, with billy and hopper being okay and jopper being in full swing. i think that's all i wanted to say. thanks again for 1k followers. that's still so wild to me. i love you. and billy loves you too <333

————

November 1985

“No.”

“What do you mean no? You just fought an interdimensional being, don’t you want a vacation?”

Lucas wipes both hands down his face, flopping down on the arm of the couch beside where Max sits with El between her knees, tying off one of the two braids she’s trying to make.

“Max, can you help me? Please?” Lucas has been arguing about this for fifteen minutes.

She rolls her eyes, but looks up from her work nonetheless. “Billy.”

The man in question crosses his arms, locking eyes with the redhead. “Maxine.”

Max finishes Eleven’s braid and she hops up to join Will where he’s working on a puzzle. Joyce brought it home from work a few days ago, and it’s been spread out on a card table in the corner of the living room since then. Will couldn’t watch The Golden Girls with Joyce from the kitchen table.

“Just come with us, Billy. We all know you hate it here. It’ll give you a chance to get away for a little while.”

Except that’s not totally the truth. He doesn’t hate it here. Not with you around.

“There’s a pool.” Will looks up, a little shyly, from the puzzle, fingers flipping around a single piece. “At the place Robin found.”

Billy nods, and it’s enough to make Will smile at the acknowledgment.

It’d been Steve’s idea, after everything that happened in July. He thought everyone going on a trip together might be a good idea. Go a little ways out from home, calm down.

You and Billy started going to school, though Billy is still working. He found a job at a record store across the street from Melvald’s that opened after the mall went to shit. It definitely wasn’t his first choice, but it works. And he’s slowly fixing up the Camaro.

Steve had offered to pay for the repairs in full, considering he did most of the damage when he rammed the side of it, but Billy couldn’t handle that. So far Max has only convinced him to let Steve cover the really expensive parts. It hurts Billy more than he’d care to admit—having Steve Harrington give him money.

But he can’t lie, going somewhere away from Hawkins, even just for a couple days, sounds really nice. It’s the group part that’s bothering him. He’s still not used to everyone wanting him to tag along, but apparently major trauma brings people together.

There’s the slamming of car doors, and footsteps running up the driveway before the door swings open, Robin bursting in with a stack of movies in her arms. She’s followed by Dustin and then Steve, bags and keys being tossed every which way.

Billy doesn’t see you for a moment and starts to worry maybe you aren’t coming. He’s already supplying excuses for having to go home, but Steve left the door ajar, and after a moment, there you are.

You look sleepy, footsteps the quietest of everyone else as you carefully push the Byers’ door shut behind you. He watches as you accept a hug from Eleven, overhears her ask, “how did your test go?”

He’s happy to hear you tell her it went well. It’s only after you’ve looked at her and Will’s puzzle and snapped a few more corner pieces in that you make a beeline for the open spot on the couch beside Billy.

When you’ve settled, your knee bumps against his. “Hey.”

He looks at you, a little grin playing at the corners of his mouth. His arms are still crossed, thumb playing with the pendant resting on his chest. A chest surprisingly covered by a sweater, though the sleeves are pushed up.

“Hey. Glad your test is over?”

That sound of his voice makes you smile, and he’s never been so grateful for something, even if it’s just an expression. “Yeah.”

You glance down at the new tattoo on his arm, a dark colored snake wrapping around the skin covering his elbow. You run your thumb across the tail that flicks across his forearm, and Billy relaxes into your touch.

“You have work today?”

Billy shakes his head. You’re glad he had the day off. And you’d tell him so if it weren’t for the sudden bombardment.

Lucas is suddenly standing in front of you, having returned from the kitchen where you think he and Dustin may have been cleaning out Joyce’s fridge.

“Holy shit, thank god you’re here. I need you to convince Billy to go on vacation.”

You glance at Max, assuming she’s already tried. She looks rather annoyed. “Lucas, would you sit down?”

The boy looks at Max, and she glares at him. Clearly he knows better and sits down next to her.

“Billy doesn’t have to do anything he doesn’t want to do,” you finally say.

The man in question turns to face you. You have to lean your head back some because of how close he is.

“Are you going?” he asks, voice quiet and thick with something you don’t know that you’re supposed to notice.

“Y-yeah. I was gonna. Robin only went on about it to me for an hour over the phone last night. I just think it might be nice to get away for a little while.” Billy doesn’t break eye contact with you, and while it makes you a little nervous, it tells you he’s listening.

“And I can watch Max for you if you really don’t want to go. Just make sure she doesn’t kill Lucas or anything.” Max snorts at your response, though Lucas looks at her in panic, already calculating how best to prevent that sort of situation.

Your gaze softens and you fight the urge to reach out and run your thumb across Billy’s cheek.

Please come with us. I want you to go. I want you there, you think. But it’s not what you say. You don’t know how badly he needs to hear it.

“You really don’t have to go, Billy. Not if you don’t want to.”

“But there is enough space, man.” Steve stands behind the couch, handing El a scrunchie he retrieved from her bag. His voice is calm, informative. “If you decide to go. There’s plenty of room, and we’d be happy if you did.”

Billy could make some smartass remark. But he won’t. He knows that Steve is being honest, and that he’s not trying to be a dick. It seems that witnessing the guy who beat the shit out of you almost die not even a year after he moved to town really brings you together.

Billy gives an acknowledging nod. “I’d be very happy if you did,” Eleven says. She loves having Jonathan as an older brother, really she does, but Billy lets her play with his hair. And in her books, that really ups the scale.

He smiles at her, and El considers that a win.

You notice him shift next to you, and then he’s leaning forward to whisper in your ear. “Come with me?” He cocks his head in the direction of the door.

He gets up, assuming you’ll follow him. You always do.

When you’ve shut the door, you move to the porch swing. It’s your favorite spot out here, and Joyce says it makes her happy to see someone use it. She used to sit there with Will in the mornings after Jonathan left for school and read to him. She did the same with Jonathan, but he was a much more fidgety kid, wanting to find something else to do.

Billy lights a cigarette, and you watch where he fidgets with the ring on his middle finger.

He’s standing a little ways away from you so as to not breathe the smoke directly in your vicinity, but you wish so badly that he was closer. You like having him close. The weight of his body next to you, the warmth, how solid his arm feels when it’s pressed to yours or when he slides down on the couch some and it's more so pressed to your side.

“Which part of it are you worried about?” you ask him.

He shrugs. “You really think they want me there? You think Max wants me around?” “Billy, I know she does. And I know that voice in your head is telling you that it’s a pity invite, but it’s not. And, besides…” you trail off, but he’s not having that. He needs you to reassure him.

“Besides what?”

You look up at him. “I want you to go. And yeah, I’ll be sad if you don’t go, but that shouldn’t sway your decision either.” You push your feet against the concrete porch a little harder, and the swing responds to the movement. You move quicker, now feeling very pleased with yourself.

Billy almost laughs at the child-like look on your face, but you look so at home on the swing that he holds it in. A grin escapes nonetheless.

“Say that again.” He stubs out his cigarette in the ashtray either Hopper or Joyce have left outside. He’s watching you again.

“What?” He’s not gonna let you go all shy on him now. He needed to hear that. He needs to hear it.

“You know what.”

“I want you to go.”

“Then it’s settled. Need to get out of this shithole anyways.”

————

The place Steve found is about two hours from Hawkins, with three bedrooms, a shockingly luxurious pull-out couch, and bigger common areas than you’ve ever laid eyes on. Excluding the ones in Steve’s house. In short, the rental is like Hopper’s cabin, if Hopper’s cabin were updated and substantially larger. It feels like the kind of place rich people have to take weekend trips. You’d rather not find out how much Steve is paying for the lot of you to stay there.

Robin takes you on a grand tour while everyone else explores the backyard. Dustin is already determined to climb a tree. One of the rooms has two sets of bunk beds, dedicated to the four boys. “To ensure no cootie-spreading,” Robin proclaims.

She and Steve will share the couch, with Max and Eleven in the smaller bedroom.

Robin stops at the end of the hallway. “Which leaves…”

You and Billy.

You and Billy Hargrove.

Sharing a room.

Sharing a bed.

Speaking of, the man in question brushes past you, setting his bag on the floor at the foot of the bed. Robin takes that as her queue to leave and gives you a thumbs up on the way out. You hope she can feel your death stare on the back of her head, and she knows it, being quick to run down the hall.

“So we’re roomies, huh?” Billy says, gathering his hair at the base of his neck. You hadn’t even realized he had a tie on him, and it takes him finishing off a lazy bun to realize it’s a blue scrunchie. You have to bite your lip to keep from saying anything.

“I can sleep with Max and El, if you want. Or–”

That crease between Billy’s brows forms. “Why would you do that?”

You’ve gone all warm. You’d have to sleep in bed with him. And you sit next to him all the time, but this is different. Isn’t it?

Maybe it’s not so weird. You’re just friends. It’s like a sleepover, right?

“I don’t know, you might not want to sleep together or something.”

He cocks a brow, but you catch the double meaning of your words just in time. “You know what I mean, Billy.”

He sits on the end of the bed, and reaches out for you. You move towards him slowly, but the moment you’re within his grasp, Billy spreads his legs and grabs your waist, slotting your body between them.

“You can go if you really want to. If you think I’ve got cooties or somethin’ and you don’t wanna share a bed with me.”

You snort, and Billy drinks in the sound, knowing he’s the one that made you laugh.

“I don’t think you’ve got cooties.”

You realize in that moment that his hands haven’t left their spot on your waist, never straying anywhere else. The weight of them on you is enough to keep you focused on him, and he seems to acknowledge that.

“Then what is it?” he asks, in that low drawl you fear could get out any answer he wanted from you.

You hesitate, but say it anyway. “You don’t think it’ll be weird? Sleeping in the same bed?”

Billy fights the urge to rest his forehead against your stomach. He wants to tell you he’s wished you were in his bed on more than one occasion. Sometimes he just wishes you were there so it wouldn’t feel so cold, so he’d have someone to pull him out of his thoughts before they eat him alive altogether.

“No, I don’t think it’ll be weird.”

You nod your head, and try to move back from him.

Billy whines. “Uh uh. Nope.”

You go to put your hands on your hips, and they graze Billy’s on the way. He grabs hold of them. “You don’t want to have a sleepover with me?”

Billy’s looking up at you with those watery blue eyes, and you know this is a battle you’ll never win.

“Really?”

He lets out a breath of a laugh, and your eyes fall to his neck when he tosses his head back.

“Yeah, baby.”

Baby.

It feels like every cell in your body has been sent into overdrive, like you can’t compute a single coherent thought. All because Billy called you “baby”.

And if he’s being honest with himself, he feels the same way. He hadn’t meant to say it. It’s just that he calls you “baby” in his head all the time, and it just…happened.

“I’d love to have a sleepover with you, Hargrove.”

“Mhm. Thought so.”

This time he lets the laugh out, and it’s a beautiful sound. The kind of sound you’d commit unspeakable acts to hear again. And this time, he does let his forehead drop to rest on your stomach. It surprises you, but you’re not mad about it.

“Oh, fuck off,” you say, and you can feel his chuckle against your skin.

When he quits, you find yourself just standing there, find your hands moving around his back. He’s always so warm. You rub your hands up and down his back, the denim of his jacket rough on your fingertips.

You feel him shift, feel his change in position, the hard press of his chin against you. Billy is looking up at you, and you know he’s hoping you’ll return his gaze. His eyes bore into yours, and you hate to think of what you must look like from this angle. Clearly he doesn’t mind.

You push a curl behind his ear, a shockingly perfect ringlet that’s too short to be contained like the rest of them.

Billy would be taken aback by the gesture if it weren’t for the fact that you always go this easy on him. Like you know he’s healing, in more ways than one.

“We can’t stay here forever, you know. I wanna go look around.”

“Yeah,” he laughs. “I’m sure it’s riveting.” He lets you go anyway, following you down the hall to the rest of the cabin.

————

Your back rests on the base of an oversized chair, one that’s surprisingly comfy, your body in between Robin’s legs. She’s sitting next to Steve, watching you moderate El, Lucas, and Will play Twister. Dustin’s already out.

“Right hand blue.”

“You’re kidding right?”

“Sinclair, have you never played this game before?”

Lucas scoffs, trying to reach the blue on the other side of the mat without toppling into Will. Max went with Billy to the store, but they should be back soon. You have a sick feeling they’re taking advantage of having been given Steve’s debit card.

“Yes, I’ve played the game before. If you’re so good, why don’t you get down here and show us how it’s done, Harrington?”

“Yeah, Harrington, why don’t you show us how flexible you are?” Billy’s voice makes you look up from where you’ve been mindlessly twisting the spinner on the board around with the tip of your finger.

He stands just inside the living room, holding the door open with his leg. He kicks it shut once Max has made it in. She heaves the paper bags she’d been holding up and onto the counter. Steve rises to help unpack them. You follow on instinct, handing the spinner to Robin instead, and Dustin is quick to take Steve’s spot before Mike can.

Billy won’t let you take anything from him, but he will let you help figure out what the hell to do with all of it. “Do I even want to know how much you both spent?” you ask.

He gives you that fucking smile, and you know you don’t. “Max said she wanted to have a spa night–whatever that means–with El, so we sort of split up. I’m sure Steve’ll live.”

“For your information, Lucas,” Steve continues, clearly not ready to let the quips towards his limberness go, “I was the captain of the swim team.”

“What’s that got to do with being flexible, dingus?” Robin directs the two remaining players, the young boy in question having just busted his ass.

“Swimming is an art form, Rob. You gotta learn to respect it.”

You choke on a laugh, and Billy is quick to rub your back while he chuckles into your shoulder.

“Something funny over there?” Steve questions.

You straighten, trying to wipe the smile from your face though it’s to no avail. “Nope, Steven. I’m sure you’re just incredibly stretchy. Like Mr. Fantastic.”

His brow furrows. “Mr. Fantastic?”

Dustin snorts, elbow deep in a bag of chips, and you quickly realize that you probably shouldn’t have given him an opening, but you don’t exactly regret it either.

The lot of you spend the rest of the night in this fashion, playing games, eating way too much food, taking turns smacking the top of the television so your movie will keep playing.

It feels like home. It feels safe. You wish it always felt this way.

————

You’d just finished brushing your teeth when you hear the bedroom door click shut, hear footsteps you can tell are in search of you.

You peek your head out of the bathroom and Billy grins at the sight of you in pajamas, a smear of moisturizer on your forehead you’ve yet to rub in.

He squeezes in the small room, about the same size as his at home, to join you. There’s something about this moment, the domesticity of it, that makes your heart swell. It feels like something you could get used to, getting ready for bed with him. Neither of you have to say anything, you just do your own thing, but having him be there, having his presence–it’s more than enough for you.

When you climb into bed, you try and read for a while, the sounds of Billy washing his face comforting you. You find it easy to read even when he does get in with you, the mattress sinking underneath his weight, the sheets rustling as he moves around experimentally, trying to get comfortable in a bed that isn’t his own.

You feel odd though, reading when he’s right there, so it isn’t long before you close the book and slide further into the covers with him. Billy’s quick to turn on his side, wanting to see you like this.

He watches you yank the blankets up to your chin, looking at him over a blur of fluffy white comforter. “It’s fuckin’ freezin’ in here,” you tell him.

“C’mere then.”

You burrow further into your pillow, fearing you know exactly what he’s going to suggest. “Huh?”

“You’re cold. You always whine about me being warm or somethin’ and I’m telling you to come here.”

“Billy.”

“Stop.” He lifts the covers up some, untucking you from them, and he wraps his arm around your back, tugging you into his side.

Suddenly you’re pressed against him, having slid across the sheets easier than you’d have imagined.

He’s let go of you, his arm hovering over your back. “You want me to hold you or no?”

“Yeah.”

Billy lets his arm drop against your side, his fingers splaying out over your back. He rubs his hand up and down your spine, hoping it’ll warm you up. “This okay?”

“Yes.”

He nods. You’re looking at him like he’s something special.

Billy realizes, in that moment, that that’s how you’ve always looked at him. Even before.

He also realizes that your hands are tucked under your chin and your legs are curled up and into you like you’re afraid of making any contact with him.

“You can loosen up, you know. It’s just me.”

You let out a breath of a laugh, and he can feel it against the skin of his neck.

“It’s okay, I promise. You can touch me.” Billy has this feeling that you’re afraid of hurting him. He’s sure you’ve noticed that he’s wearing a shirt to bed, something he never did before. And he thinks that you’re worried he’ll break.

“You’re sure?”

“Wouldn’t have said so otherwise.”

He watches you unfold your hands and stretch your arm over him, hooking it around his hip. You want to rub up and down his side, but you’re nervous.

It’s just me.

“Do they hurt at all?”

Your thumb skates up a little further, and you don’t have to tell him what you mean.

“Not all the time,” he says, voice low and thick with drowsiness. “At first, yeah, like hell. Now it’s just sometimes. They can feel a little tight, or just bug me. Depends, I guess.”

You nod, feeling brave enough now to slide your hand up a little further. Your touch is light, barely there. You close your eyes, trying not to think about when it happened. How he’d screamed.

He can tell when you’ve calmed down some, because your arm relaxes and you hug him a little more firmly. You scoot in a little closer, close enough that your noses would touch if you tried to make them.

“Goodnight, Billy.”

He makes the move, dragging the tip of his nose across your forehead. He kisses the top of your head, and you grin so wide you feel like a kid in a candy shop.

“Goodnight, baby.”

————

When you wake up, you almost don’t want to disturb him, but you know you should get out of bed.

Billy is sprawled out on his stomach, having separated from you at some point during the night. His tank top is rucked up from the tossing and turning of sleep, and you look away when you catch a glimpse of pink skin. It doesn’t feel like your place to look.

You wander out of the room, carefully shutting the door behind you. You make it down the hall, and find that Robin seems to be the only other one awake. You should’ve guessed. She told you once before that her body doesn’t seem to let her sleep in.

Steve is still passed out on the pull-out couch, completely covered by the blankets. The only sign of him is a tuft of messy hair against the light colored pillow case his head rests on.

Robin waves at you from her perch at the kitchen counter, a bowl of cereal in front of her. “Want some?” she whispers, pushing the box in your direction.

You fill up your own bowl, having a feeling that Robin is about to ramble.

“Sleep okay?” she asks.

“Mhm. You?”

“Fine. Though, y’know, Steve is a horrific bed hog. Seriously, he was half on top of me the whole night. I might have to bunk with Max and El.”

You laugh, and Robin takes that as her queue to ask what she’s been pondering since she woke up.

“Was it okay? Sleeping with Billy? Well, not like that. Well, I’m assuming not like that, not that there’s anything wrong with that, but I just meant like actually sleeping? Please stop me.”

You grin at her. “Please breathe, Rob.” She does, over exaggerating her inhales. “And it was fine.”

“Okay, good. I was kind of worried you’d be frustrated with my matchmaking tendencies. I just really want you two to be happy. And he seems so calm when he’s with you, and I realize I’ve just told you that I’ve been pushing you two together and I–”

You wipe milk from your chin, having almost spit out your cereal. “Robin, sweetheart, it’s okay, I promise. I know about your matchmaking tendencies. But I think we’re just friends, right?”

“Just friends, my ass.” You hadn’t even seen Steve get up, but he’s reaching for the fridge and pulling out a carton of chocolate milk. He really can’t say anything about Dustin’s eating habits when he has the exact same diet.

“Oh my god.”

“Listen, I’m just saying, there’s been something going on between you two since before the world went to shit. I don’t know why you two tiptoe around each other like it’s not obvious that you’re in love.”

“Steve!” you exclaim. “Seriously, what the hell? I’ve been up for like twenty minutes and you two are schooling me on my love life?”

“Or lack thereof,” Robin says.

“Okay, damn. You know what, I’m going back to bed.”

Steve pushes your bowl back towards you when you attempt to get up. “No, you’re not. I’m just saying, there’s no sense in avoiding this. You both clearly feel a lot for each other, and I don’t see any reason to avoid it when you could be together.”

He’s being vulnerable with you, his big brown eyes boring into yours and trying to convey how serious he’s being.

“Just think about it, okay? There’s no harm in talking about how you feel with him. And don’t say that you don’t feel anything, because that’s a goddamn lie.”

————

Billy’s had his swim trunks on all day, but he hasn’t done more than sit in the shade by the pool while everyone else makes a mess and plays ridiculous games in the water.

It’s killing him to watch you in there from time to time, swimming around or sitting in the shallow end. You told him once that swimming calms you down.

It’s not until after dinner, when everyone has moved inside for the most part, though there seems to be the plotting of a water balloon fight out front, that he’s brave enough to head for the pool.

You follow him out there, see him contemplating the water.

“Whatcha doin’?”

Billy drops the cigarette he’d been smoking, snubbing it out. “Thought about going for a swim,” he tells you.

“That sounds nice.”

“Mhm.”

“I can go back inside, if you want.”

Billy turns to face you. “No. No, I want you to stay.” He wants you to see. He can’t explain why, but he does.

“Okay.”

He takes a shaky breath, hoping you don’t catch it. You do. You always do.

“I just…wasn’t ready for everyone to see.”

“I understand, Billy.”

You know what he’s really saying. He wasn’t ready for everyone to see. But he’s ready for you to see.

“I can get in first, if that helps. And I won’t look if you don’t want me to,” you say.

“That helps, yeah. And you can look. It’s okay.”

He watches you wade in, watches the way your swimsuit changes color as you tread water.

Billy takes another deep breath, and he’s pulling his shirt off. He’s quick though, diving straight into the deep end, knowing he needs to get it over with.

When he comes up, his hair is sticking to his forehead, and he flips it out of the way, giving you a glimpse of the broad pink scar on his chest.

He meets you halfway, and you think he’s in a serious mood until he’s splashing you like a child.

“You motherfucker!”

You get him back, and he’s laughing.

Billy is laughing and he looks so pretty in the last of the day’s sunlight, beads of water sliding over his collarbones and down his arms, and you feel like you could die. Like seeing him this way is enough. You don’t need anything else.

You try to return a particularly aggressive splash, but he catches your waist, pulling you up and over his shoulder.

“Billy!”

“What?” His voice is teasing. He tosses the rest of the way over, your laughter fading out into the water.

You come up, a brilliant smile on his face. Billy’s sure if you stood close enough you’d be able to hear his heart beating.

When you’ve both gone quiet, your eyes drop to the scars on his sides, the way they stretch across his skin, mean and twisting. Some spots are darker than others, and while it hurts you to look at them, you know it must hurt him even more. But he looks just as beautiful as before, if not increasingly so.

“See something you like?” Billy says it on instinct. To hide the fact that he’s worried you don’t really like it. That maybe you think he’s gross looking. But he knows that’s all in his head. He fucking knows it.

“You’re fucking gorgeous, Billy Hargrove.”

You say it with such surety, such admiration, that he can’t even begin to doubt that you mean it.

He smiles at you. It’s boyish. You’d do anything to see a million more of them.

He moves towards you, the sky having darkened enough that the outside lights have come on, the lights in the pool too. All that remains of the sun is a slash of deep orange, though the night quickly pushes it away.

Billy’s got you backed up against the wall of the pool now. His hands find your sides.

It’s overwhelming, having him this close. You can feel his breath on your face, see the rise and fall of his chest, the freckles on his cheeks.

When he kisses you, you think your heart stops. His mouth is warm against yours, and he tastes a little like chlorine, but you don’t care. Your hands find his face, and you’re smiling so hard that he pulls away because he wants to see. You don’t let him for long though, pulling him back, wanting more. He laughs into your mouth, and your chest aches with this feeling.

Eventually you do let go, and when you hold his eye contact, he knows what you’re going to say. He needs to tell you first, though.

“I’m in love with you, you know.”

“I know,” you respond.

He tosses his head back in a laugh, and you press a sweet kiss to his throat.

“I’m in love with you too, Billy.”

“Damn right you are.”

You snort against his chest, lowering slightly to kiss his scar. His breath catches. He doesn’t know what he did to deserve you.

“About fucking time!” Steve’s shouting and Robin is yelling, and Max would be making barf sounds if she wasn’t so pleased with seeing her brother so happy.

“So much for that,” Billy says.

But you wouldn’t have it any other way.

————

“I’m regretting this, Billy.”

“Stop whining.”

Billy wraps his arms tighter around your back, pressing a kiss to your jaw in hopes that you’ll let him keep doing this.

“Get off.”

“No.”

“Get off, please.”

“Make me.”

There’s the sound of a slap, your hand having met his ass.

He raises his head from where he’d buried it in your chest, looking at you drowsily. “You just spanked me.”

And you’d do it again.

“Didn’t work, did it?”

“No. Shut up and take it.”

By that he means continue letting him lay on top of you, his entire body pressed to yours. It doesn’t matter to him that there’s an entire bed, one that’s made for two people.

You settle for playing with his hair, something he seems to enjoy, and you’d mess with him about the fact that he’s essentially purring if it weren’t for him looking so content.

He might be heavy, but having Billy Hargrove sleep on top of you isn’t exactly something you just give up.

He’s never had this before.

Hell, you’ve never had this before.

And he thinks it’s healing him. More than the salve he puts on his scars, or the physical therapy, or fixing up the Camaro.

You’re healing him. You.

————

please let me know if you liked this! feedback is always appreciated!! comments and reblogs mean more than you know. <33

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mystic-writings · 9 months ago

Text

closing time | robin buckley

PAIRING — robin buckley x fem!reader

SUMMARY — robin has a crush on you. what happens when you're locked in keith's office after the store closes?

WARNINGS — fluff, banter, love confessions, mentions of panic/anxiety & season three

WORD COUNT — 2,353

NOTES — something short and sweet for my beloved robin!! i hope y'all enjoy and don't forget to leave feedback please! also, this was very loosely inspired by sparks fly by taylor swift

masterlist | navigation

Robin Buckley was utterly, helplessly, in love.

There was no denying it anymore; Robin was completely in love with you. She would light up every time you walked into class; her heart stopped every time you smiled at her, and spluttered back to life when you’d say her name. Her mind ran away from her every time you shared a shift at the video store, full of daydreams of what you and her would even do if you dated, only to be shut down by the brutal fear of rejection.

But you didn’t know that.

As far as Robin Buckley was aware, you only thought of her as your anxious, rambling friend who, more often than not, spent her shifts making fun of your co-worker Steve and his almost inexplicable lack of game.

Most of the time that she was around you, Robin was forced to ‘act normal’, as if she’d ever done that before. It usually resulted in useless rambles about something weird she’d read about, like gingivitis or how most of the backdrop scenes from Star Wars were actually just still paintings. But you usually seemed genuinely interested in what she had to say, and that took some of the uncomfortable anxiety away. And sometimes, you’d even laugh. A genuine one, too, and it would make Robin’s day.

Tonight was a lot like that. It was Friday, and the typical customer buzz around the store was enough to keep you, Robin, and Steve occupied for a while. But by 9pm, the clientele died out, and the three of you were behind the counter playing a round of Crazy 8s.

“Hah!” Robin said, slamming her palm to the pile of cards. She pulled it back to reveal an 8 of clubs, a proud smile on her face. “Suck it, Steve! Last card,” she huffed, leaning on the counter as you and Steve stared expectantly at her. “Oh, right. And it’s hearts now.”

Steve huffed, glancing at his cards before taking one from the pick-up pile. “Dick move, Buckley.”

“Dick face, Harrington.”

“What does that even mean?” You asked, looking at yours before placing a 3 on the pile.

Robin just shrugged, her lips forming a smirk as she placed her final card down. “I win!”

“Alright, I’m out,” Steve huffed, tossing his cards on the pile. You couldn’t help the overwhelming amount of clubs he had, causing you to stifle a giggle. “See you losers tomorrow.”

“Good luck with that, Steve, ‘cause I won’t be here.” You mentioned, scooping the cards into your hands. “Mom’s taking me to Indianapolis for some family thing. Had to cancel my morning shift, which means…”

Steve, who had been retrieving his jacket and car keys from under the counter, turned back with what you could only describe as a look of horror painted on his face. “No,”

“Yep,” you said, popping the ‘p’.

“No! You can’t do this to me, Y/n!”

“I already did, Steve.” You began shuffling the cards.

“But Keith always smells like eggs in the mornings! And he hates me,” Steve whined. “I can’t believe you.”

“Sorry,” you shrugged half-heartedly. “Can’t un-cancel my shift now, Keith’ll be pissed if I call him this late.”

Robin scoffed, arms folded across her chest as she watched you shuffle the cards intently. “No, he won’t. He’s practically in love with you.”

You shuddered at the thought. “Ew, gross. Please never say those words to me again, Robin. I beg of you. I think I’ll die, or… contract something if I think about it for more than 30 seconds.”

“Okay, okay, I’ve gotta get outta here,” Steve said, spinning his keys on his finger. “See you weirdos later.”

You and Robin shouted farewells as he exited the store, the bell ringing, signifying his departure. Glancing up at Robin from your focus on the deck of cards, you asked, “Another round?”

The girl nodded, a shaky exhale leaving her lips. You were closing together, and while it wasn’t uncommon, time alone with you was something Robin treasured. And the way you looked up at her through your eyelashes… Robin was going to be combating the butterflies in her stomach all night, it seemed.

The next hour seemed to fly by with no issues.

No customers came by after Steve left, so you and Robin played cards and watched a movie on the big TV hanging from the ceiling until your watch beeped, signalling 10pm — closing time.

The pair of you worked in tandem, one of you counting the cash and working out what the deposit would be while the other made sure that everything looked nice and that the return carts were empty — of course they were, Steve had done them long before he left.

Disaster struck when you went into Keith’s office to finish closing for the night.

The analog clock on Keith’s desk read 10:18pm when you passed it, Robin just behind you. All that was left was to write up the deposit in an email and send it to the regional inbox. It was a delicate procedure, to say the least, but with Robin reading everything out to you as you typed it up made things a lot easier.

“You got that?” Robin asked, hopping off the desk beside you.

You glanced at her, fingers typing away. “Yeah, Robin, I think I can remember how many five dollar bills were put in the deposit envelope.”

Robin snorted beside you, the already-open safe door creaking as she pulled it. Slipping the envelope inside, along with the deposit slip, she shut the door with a loud clang, causing you to flinch slightly.

“And…” you pressed a few final buttons on the keyboard, the computer trilling as the email finished sending. “We’re off! Let’s shut this place down and get the hell out of here.”

“As if I’d actually want to stay,” Robin grimaced as you powered down the computer. “This place smells like…” Robin sniffed the air, her face scrunching further. “Cheetos and B.O.”

You giggled, pushing the chair into the desk. “Gross,”

Robin made her way to the office door, a giddy smile on her face. “What? I’m right! It’s like Keith doesn’t know what air freshener is. Or a shower.”

She pulled on the door, her smile falling as she twisted the knob.

“What? Robin, what is it?”

“I— I don’t know,” Robin twisted the doorknob again, pulling the door toward her, to no avail. She twisted again, frantically, panic setting into her gut. “I think it’s locked!”

“No,” you nearly gasped. “It can’t be locked!”

“Okay, well, I’m turning the doorknob and it’s not moving, so…!” Robin said, voice shaking as she turned to look back at you.

“Let me try, Robin. Maybe it’s just stuck.” You suggested. Robin relented, stepping to the side as you grasped the cool metal. You twisted and pulled, your movements growing frustrated and frantic as you realised that the door wasn’t stuck — you were, in fact, locked in. “Damn it!” You exclaimed, kicking the door. “I can’t believe this,”

Robin’s hands flew to her hair, grasping at her scalp as she tried to calm herself down. She watched you begin to pace, chewing on your thumbnail, thinking of something, anything you could do to get yourselves out of this office.

You were suddenly beginning to feel cramped, like the walls were closing in on you. But you took a breath, eyes scanning the room, landing on the phone conveniently placed on Keith’s desk. “Ha!”

Robin watched you rush to the other side of the desk, picking up the receiver and beginning to dial a number. “Are you calling the police?”

“The police?” You scrunched up your nose, holding the receiver to your ear. “No, that’s stupid. I’m calling Steve.”

“Calling the police when we’re locked in a room with no way out is stupid?” Robin scoffed, taking up your previous state of pacing.

The phone rang in your ear as you sat down on the chair. “Of course it is, Robin. Steve has a set of keys, and there’s pretty much a guarantee that no one’s going to answer a Friday night call. They’re all out busting parties and pulling over drunk drivers. They’re gonna put us on the back burner. But Steve won’t. Besides, he’s not doing anything tonight, his date cancelled on him this morning.”

Robin barely acknowledged your words, mind running wild with the thoughts running through her head. Steve would help, of course he would. Ever since Starcourt, he knew how much Robin hated being stuck somewhere with no way to get out. She just hoped he’d get here quickly. Being stuck in a room with no real way out was one thing, but being stuck in a room with the girl you’re practically in love with was something entirely different.

“Steve!” You practically shouted with joy.

“Jesus,” Steve groaned. “Tone it down, please! What’s up?”

You huffed, leaning back in Keith’s chair. “Look, Robin and I locked ourselves in the office, somehow, and we need you to come by with your keys and let us out.” Steve sighed on the other line. “Pretty please? I’ll buy you Burger King on Sunday.”

“Fine. But I’m taking my sweet time getting there. I’m on the other side of town, if you even care to know.”

“I know where you live, Steve.” You rolled your eyes. “Just hurry up. I think Robin’s losing her mind in here.”

“When is she not losing her mind?”

“Steve,” you warned, sighing a farewell as he hung up on you. “Okay, he’ll be here soon. I think.”

“God,” Robin groaned, palms pressed to her forehead. “My mom’s gonna kill me. My cousins are coming into town for the week and I’m supposed to clean tomorrow and instead I’m stuck here, in a room that smells like death, where I’ll probably actually die! Of, like, dehydration or starvation or something meanwhile my cousin Evan is happily sitting on my mom’s couch eating cookies or something!”

“Starvation?” You asked yourself as you stood from the chair. “Robin, it’ll be fine. Steve’s on his way,”

The girl barely acknowledged you, still pacing, arms flying around as she spoke. “And, by the way, starvation? A really painful way to die! It hurts, Y/n, a lot. Or, at least, that’s what I’ve read, but who am I to judge! I mean, I’ve never starved to death before! Not until now, at least!”

You sighed, stepping in Robin’s path, making sure to grab her shoulders firmly, eyes locked onto hers. “Robin,” you said, eyebrows raised as the girl fell silent. “Steve should be here anytime soon. We won’t starve to death. All we have to do is wait out the half an hour before he gets here, max. We’ll be fine.”

Robin’s eyebrows cinched before she shook her head. “But what if something bad happens, Y/n? Then what are we gonna do? We’ll die! And I can’t die! I haven’t seen Evan since I was 9! He lives in Pennsylvania! Hershey, Pennsylvania! Do you have any idea how far that is?”

“It’s, like, an 8 hour drive, Robin,” you said, voice quiet. Your eyes stayed locked on hers, watching the anxiety swim through her green irises. It was like you could see the gears turning, clicking and grinding to form more anxious thoughts for her to spew out in a breathless panic.

“Not to mention the smell in here! It’s horrible! I mean, seriously, could Keith not afford a fan, or-or some sort of air freshener! And the windows! They’re so small, and they barely open, and—”

Robin’s words ceased when you pulled her forward, crashing your lips onto hers. Her muscles tensed for a moment, eyes wide, until she realised you were kissing her. You were kissing her. Robin barely had the time to kiss you back, to place her hands gingerly on your waist before you were pulling back, sucking in air.

“What was that for?” Robin asked, voice squeaking.

You only smiled. “I really needed you to stop talking.” You joked, a hesitant hand reaching up to brush some of Robin’s hair from her face. “Besides, I’ve been wanting to do that for, like, 6 months.”

“Oh,” Robin said, nodding briefly before she smiled, cheeks burning red. “Can you do it again?”

You smiled wide, nodding ecstatically before placing your hands on Robin’s neck, pulling her closer so that you could kiss her again.

It was slower this time, a test of the waters as you both melted into one another’s touch. A delicate kiss, one that said a lot more than either of you could find the words for. Robin’s fingers dug into the flesh of your waist, her mind barely comprehending what was happening right now.

The rest of the world seemed to fall away at that moment, so much so that neither of you paid attention to the soundscape around you, failing to hear the sound of keys jingling in the lock — the door to the office squealing as it opened, and the subsequent screams of Steve Harrington.

“What the hell, guys!” Steve screamed, covering his eyes as you and Robin jumped away from one another, lips swollen and cheeks burning. “I leave you by yourselves for an hour and a half and you’ve got your tongues down each other’s throats!”

“Thanks, Steve,” you said, sheepish as you took Robin’s hand, leading her past his gobsmacked form.

“You owe me a hell of a lot more than just Burger King for making me see that.”

“Sure thing!” You called out as you and Robin slung your bags over your shoulders.

“Thank you, dingus!” Robin shouted over her shoulder, smiling wide at Steve, following you out of the store.

You huffed a laugh and smiled at Robin, swinging your hands as you grabbed your keys from your pocket. “Want a ride home?”

“Sure,” Robin smiled, relishing the feeling of your hand in hers. She made sure to keep it there during the entire drive to her house, and as often as she could after that, too.

forever taglist: @mazerunnerrose @theboldandthebootyful @miraclesoflove @heliads

robin buckley taglist: @sunshine-daisies-library (open!)

taglist form here!

#robin buckley #robin buckley x reader #robin buckley x you #robin buckley x y/n #robin buckley imagine #robin buckley fluff #robin buckley fanfiction #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things x reader

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eds6ngel · 9 months ago

Note

Okay but Ronance x Reader where they show you how to get fucked with the strap? Being spread out on the bed, back leaning against Robin’s chest and thighs spread open over Robin’s while Nancy steps into the harness? Robin rubbing lazy circles over your clit as you both watch Nancy? Finally, Nancy leaning over you to fuck you, whilst the woman behind you makes sure to whispers dirty things into your ear and plays with your clit simultaneously?? 💋💋

-🪷

double the pleasure ᯓᡣ𐭩°⟡ᝰ.ᐟ

nancy wheeler x afab!reader x robin buckley

summary: when your girlfriend nancy brings out her strap for the first time, you feel a little intimidated. but, from the first feeling, you never wish to part from it again.

warnings: SMUT!! afab!reader. sapphic!reader. poly!reader. threesome. strap-on use. boob play. hickies. soft turned rough. mommy kink. established relationship. poly relationship. sapphic!nancy. ronance. use of pet names (honey, baby, babe.) orgasms for everyone !! some fluff at the end. talks of consent. [1.1k].

a/n: thank you for requesting, babe! absolutely loved the idea of this, so just had to tackle it first in my requests. any poly people, feel free to correct me on inaccuracies !! i don’t identify as poly !!

“I-I’ve never used one before.”

Nancy chuckles at you, a sly grin forming on her face as she shows you the glittery, pink dildo in her hand.

It’s pretty, you have to admit. From your limited knowledge of dicks, you guessed it had to be at least six inches in length, a four inch girth at the least. As you admired the toy, you noticed the small vein on the underside, knowing that would feel good up against your smooth, velvet walls.

“It’s okay, baby. I’m not gonna rush you or anything. Robbie can confirm it feels real good though. Can’t you, Robbie?”

You are laying on top of Robin’s chest, her left arm wrapped around your front as her right hand gently rubs up and down your thigh. Every single word she utters tickling against your neck, each sentence of hers being soothed by the harsh sucking of her teeth against your soft skin. “Oh yeah. It feels so good, baby. Especially when she speeds up. She just knows how to hit all the right spots.”

“And honey,” Nancy directs towards you, your lidded eyes lifting to make eye contact with your girlfriend, “If anything hurts at any time, do not be afraid to let me know, ‘kay? Want this to feel so incredibly good for you.”

“Okay…” you breathlessly let out, Robin’s hand getting dangerously close to your mound.

“Robbie, keep her open for me, ‘kay?” Nancy directs the other girl, “Rub her pretty little clit for me. Make sure she’s nice and wet. Don’t want to break her after all.”

Robin’s movements on your bud are just right. Her actions are lazy, yet firm, putting down just enough pressure for the pleasure to softly sit in the pit of your stomach. Just like you, she is too mesmerised by the sight of Nancy’s long legs stepping into the harness, so delicately and simply tightening the harness around her legs and front.

“Check her for me, Robbie. How wet is she?”

Robin knew exactly what Nancy wished of her, her hand dipping lower as she pushes two fingers into your heat, a choked moan releasing from your mouth. She pushes her fingers to the hilt, curling them slightly before pulling them back out.

As Nancy finishes tightening up the harness, she leans forward to inspect Robin’s fingers. Eyes flicking between the both of you laying down in front of her, she takes them into her mouth, sucking them clean and moaning at the flavour.

“Mmm, I think she’s ready. Such a needy girl, getting wet just at the sight of me and Robin’s poor, little actions.”

Nancy takes her palm and wipes it up your mound, using your slick as lube as she rubs the juices all over her dick.

“Perfect, perfect. Just the right amount. You’re so good for me, baby. So good for us,” she praises, “You ready to take mommy’s dick? I’ll start off slow, I promise.”

You nod ferociously, the movement of Robin’s hand back on your clit so agonisingly slow that you needed that extra dose of pleasure.

And just as you pleaded, Nancy slowly sinks the strap into your pussy, your walls hugging it tightly as she pushes to the hilt.

“Mmm, so fucking good for me, honey. Look at that, Robbie. Look how good our girl took it.”

Nancy slowly pulls out, before pushing all the way back in, creating a steady pace for you to enjoy.

Robin’s breath is still fanning on your neck, her voice low and sultry as she begins to whisper the dirtiest phrases into your ear.

“Taking her dick so well, baby. So perfect for your mommy. Poor pussy cannot let go of her.”

You can’t utter a word back, all that’s escaping your mouth being a guttural “Uh” every time Nancy hit the back of your pussy.

“Think she’s too cockdrunk for us, baby,” Nancy speeds up her pace, her hands coming to massage your perky breasts, “Poor thing can’t even get out a sentence, can you, honey?”

You swallow thickly as Nancy takes your nipple into her mouth, Robin’s fingertips pressing a little deeper on your clit, “F-Feels so good.”

“I know it does, pretty girl,” Nancy replies, bucking her hips in a particular harsh thrust, Robin letting out a gasp herself.

Her thrusts become more rapid, Robin letting out soft moans as she whispers out, “Balls are hitting my clit, babe. Shit!”

“Oh, are they?” she chuckles smugly, “Both my girls getting pleasured at once? What a sight to see.”

The room is filled with grunts, gasps, and moans, the bed creaking loudly with the sheer strength and weight of the three of you, the smell of sweat and sex lingering in the atmosphere.

“N-Nance, baby. Getting close,” you mumble out, Robin’s moaning directly into your ear, her hand struggling to keep a solid pace on your clit, her high slowly building up also.

In a harsh movement, Nancy grabs Robin’s hand from your clit, the other from your waist and pins them either side of her head, hovering over the both of you, hips bucking more frantically, trying to get you both to cum at the same time.

“Pleasure yourself, baby. Get yourself there. Get yourself to cum on mommy’s dick.”

You obey her orders immediately, right hand sneaking down to your clit, rubbing fast circles as your other gripped Nancy’s waist tightly, leaving marks in your movement.

Robin is the first to let go, a sharp whine being let out in your ear as her body shakes beneath you, Nancy grunting, turning into a whine as she bucks wildly into you, pushing you towards the edge.

“Come on, baby. I got you. Cum for mommy. Cum for me.”

And with that demand, you let go, Nancy pounding you through your high, juices coating the pink dildo as she also lets out a squeal, turned loud moan.

Coming down from your highs, Nancy puts her full body weight on top of you, Robin letting herself be crushed by the two of you, settling into a post-orgasm bliss.

“So… how did you find the strap?” Nancy asks you between pants.

You let out a soft giggle in response, “Put that in the regular use box. Gonna need that a lot more often.”

The three of you giggle together as you finally say in a sultry voice, “Although, maybe next time I could try it on.”

And both Nancy and Robin were definitely down for that.

taglist: @agxxb

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i-hate-people-1 · 3 months ago

Text

Tender lover

Eddie Munson x reader. Past Steve Harrington x reader

Warnings:just swearing.

Words: 4k

Not my gif

You’ve been pacing around your apartment for the better part of an hour waiting for Eddie to get there.

You and Eddie have been going out for seven months, and you were finally going to meet his friends. Needless to say, you were freaking out, and of course you got ready way too early, so now all you could do was pace and think about all of the what-ifs.

What if they don’t like you? What if they think you’re weird? What if you talk too much? What if you don’t talk enough? What if—

You were pulled out of your downward spiral by a knock that made you freeze in your spot. You recovered, shaking your head and running to your bathroom to look in the mirror, smoothing your hair down.

You ran out at the sound of a second knock, stopping at the door to take a few deep breaths before opening the door.

“I was beginning to think you weren’t home—" Eddie paused, the smirk on his face faltering as he looked at you up and down. “Wow, uh, you look, umm…” he cleared his throat, straightening up.

“What is it? Too much?” you asked, fiddling with your dress, anxiety beginning to bubble up again.

“What? No, no,” Eddie said quickly, stepping inside and shutting the door gently with his foot as he grabbed your hands, making you look up to meet his gaze. He took a deep breath, shutting his eyes tightly, hands squeezing yours gently. “You look beautiful,” he said, opening his eyes and offering you a kind smile.

You return the smile. Leaning forward on your tiptoes to place a kiss on his lips, he grinned into it, one hand moving to your cheek to hold you there as the other pulled your body closer to his.

The only reason the two of you pull away is the lack of air, still staying close, lips barely touching as the two of you finally let oxygen into your lungs.

“You nervous?” He whispered, pulling away slightly to look at your face more clearly, cocking a brow.

“A little,” you whispered back through a sigh, avoiding his gaze as you said the next part out of embarrassment, “I’m just scared they won’t like me.”

“Hey,” he said to pull your attention back to him, smiling when your eyes met his again. “They’re gonna love you,” he told you plainly.

“But what if they don’t?” You asked as you chewed the inside of your lip; it was your nervous tick.

“Then I’ll find new friends,” he shrugged, pulling your bottom lip out so you’d stop biting it.

You laughed at his joke. “but honey, you love your friends,” you argued.

“Yeah, but I—” He paused, clearing his throat, making you raise your brows questioningly. “I, uh, I can’t make out with my friends,” he fumbled, stepping away from you as his cheeks reddened and he rubbed the back of his neck.

“Well, I’d hope not, weirdo,” you laughed, grabbing your purse off the counter and straightening your dress one last time. “You ready?” You asked, moving to the door.

He cleared his throat again. “Yeah, yeah, let’s go,” he said, opening the door.

You spent the car ride talking about your individual days at work and plans for the weekend, but as the ride went on, the anxiety came back, and by the time you pulled up the driveway, you had a slightly bloody lip and sweaty palms.

“It’s gonna be okay; I promise they’ll love you,” he told you as he put the car in park, turning to you, pulling your lip from between your teeth again. “You gotta stop stressing; they’re my friends. Trust me, they’re not cool; in fact, most of them are losers,” he laughed.

“What?” You laughed.

“Well, I’m not cool and a loser too, so I had to settle for what I could get,” he joked, shrugging, avoiding your gaze to fiddle with his hands.

“Hey,” you whispered, grabbing his chin to look at you. “You’re not a loser, and neither are your friends.” He smiled, pulling you in for a kiss.

“Thank you. They’re not losers, but I promise you they aren’t intimidating,” he told you as he kissed you one more time. “Oh, and most of them are 17. Okay, let’s go inside,” he said, jumping out of the car and moving to your side of the car to get your door for you.

“What?” You questioned again as he opened the door.

“It’s a long story,” he shrugged, grabbing your hand to lead you inside.

For a second you thought you recognized the house but chalked it up to it being the destination of a high school party or something.

“Okay, so what’s the story?” You asked as you made it to the front door, Man, that really looks familiar. Have you been here before or something?.

“Well, they’re a part of my D&D club, and you know I was a super, super, super senior, so it’s not weird, or maybe it is; I don’t know; some of them are my age,” Eddie rambled, eyes wide; you knew he was stressing from the erratic nature of his hand movements.

“Oh my—“ you paused, grabbing his face. “Eddie, is that why you waited so long to introduce me to them? Because you thought I’d judge you?” He nodded guiltily, eyes bouncing around to avoid your gaze again. “Oh honey,” you whispered softly, pouting your bottom lip in sympathy. “Eddie, I’m not going to judge you. I don’t care.” At this, Eddie’s eyes finally met yours again.

“I know I’m sorry,” he whispered, hanging his head a little.

“Eddie,” you whined, grabbing his chin to lift his head up, “you don’t have to be sorry; I just don’t want you to feel like you have to hide things from me,” you told him.

“I know I don’t. I just—I like you so much, and I didn’t want you to find out I’m a loser with seventeen-year-olds for friends—“

“Eddie,” you cut him off, “you are not a loser, and nothing you can do would make me think that,” you finished sternly, your pointer finger pushing his chest to make your point.

“Thank you,” he whispered, pulling you in for another kiss. “Alright,” he sighed, pulling away. “Let’s go inside; we’re getting way too valuable on Steve’s porch,” he laughed, grabbing your hand and leading you inside.

Your eyes widened as he said the words. Steve’s porch. Steve’s porch. The words kept floating around in your head until it clicked as you were met with the entryway of the house, and oh my god, how could you be so stupid? That’s how you knew the house. Oh no, oh no, oh no. Why, why, why, why? You questioned the universe in your head.

“Sweetheart, are you still freaking out?” Eddie asked as he helped you out of your coat.

“Um, you know what? I’m not feeling so well; maybe we could just go back to my place and reschedule,” you said, frantically trying to come up with an excuse to get you out of this house and away from this situation. Oh my god, Eddie was going to break up with you.

“Come on, babe, I promise it’s gonna be okay; they’ll love you,” he laughed as he grabbed your hand, leading you into the living room.

“Eddie, wait.” You stopped him in the hallway. “Eddie I have something to tell you.

“Okay?” Eddie said, giving you a funny look, “Can it wait, though? My friends are right in there,” he said, gesturing behind him to the entrance.

“Yeah, yeah, it can wait,” you said, smiling at him. Ugh, you were a horrible person. You should have told him, but you just couldn’t do it. You couldn’t lose him, and you know maybe this was all just a random coincidence. Stuff like that happens all the time. Unfortunately, all your hopes came crashing down when you entered the living room and saw none other than Steve Harrington standing there.

“Hey guys,” Eddie said, announcing your presence in the room and bringing all eyes on you, one pair doubling in size. “Guys, this is my girlfriend—“

“Y/N?” Steve interrupted, shock evident on his face.

“Yeah, Y/N, that was kinda my line, dude.” Eddie rolled his eyes, grabbing your hand to pull you further into the room. “So I’m guessing you know Steve,” he laughed, “but um, that’s Dustin, that’s Robin, that’s…” Eddie's voice trailed off as you looked at Robin; judging by the amused look on her face and the laughter she was barely keeping in, she knew, you looked at Steve with wide eyes.

“Babe? Baby? Sweetheart?” You heard Eddie say, “Y/N, are you okay?” He chuckled slightly, with worry in his eyes, and he followed your gaze to Steve, looking back and forth between the two of you suspiciously. “Okay, what’s going on?” he asked, eyes still bouncing from Steve to you, Steve to you.

“Eddie,” Steve said cautiously, moving towards him a step as Robin finally lost it, doubling over in laughter.

Eddie’s face looked even more confused. “Oh, you gotta tell him,” Robin said through laughter.

“Tell me what?” Eddie's questioning eyes stayed on you.

“Yeah, tell him what?” Dustin asked as well, making you look around the room to see all of them listening intently, just as curious as your boyfriend.

“If you don’t tell him, I’m going to tell him.” Robin said, getting serious for a second, “Oh, can I tell him? Can I please tell him?” She asked amusement for the situation back.

“TELL ME WHAT!?!” Eddie yelled, looking at the girl, as Steve shrugged, looking away from Eddie.

“Well, um, Munson I really hate to be the one to tell you this, but, uh, Steve has—“ she giggled, losing her fake seriousness. “Steve has, umm…” she lost it again.

“Robin, if you don’t tell me what Steve has… right now I’m gonna lose it,” Eddie said, shaking the girl's shoulders.

“Okay, okay, Steve has boned your girlfriend. God, take all the fun out of it,” Robin sighed, shrugging his arms off hers.

Eddie laughed uncomfortably. “Okay, Robs, that’s not even a little bit funny. There’s no way Steve has fucked my girl—” The words died in his throat as his gaze sifted to you, ready to be met with a face of confusion, face contorting in disgust when he saw the look of guilt on your face.

“Ughhhh!” Eddie yelled, “Ew, ew, ew, ew, ew, ew, ew, ew, ew, ew, ew!” Eddie repeated as he began to pace.

“Eddie, dude, calm down; it’s not that big of a deal,” Dustin said, standing to comfort the boy, putting a hand on his shoulder.

“Shut up, Henderson,” Eddie warned, slapping his hand away. Dustin put his hands up in surrender, stepping back slowly. ”Ew, ew, ew, ew, ew, oh my god, my dick has been where Harrington's has ew, ew, ew, ew, ew, he said as he continued his pacing.

“Eddie, please stop pacing; just give us a second to explain.” Steve stood with his hands on his hips in true Steve Harrington fashion.

“Explain what Harrington?” Eddie asked, giving Steve little time to answer before he was speaking again. “Because unless the next words out of your mouth are, ‘Robin suffered a severe brain injury today that makes her think you’ve boned my girl, I really don’t want to hear it,” he snapped, moving his head in your direction. “Is it true?” He asked you, snapping out of your dazed state.

You sighed, preparing yourself to answer as his doe eyes looked at you with that pitiful hurt look he gets. “It was a long time ago,” you whispered, stepping towards him, reaching out before catching yourself. The last thing he probably wanted was to be touched by you.

So you pulled back, arms crossing over your chest, ready for him to yell at you, break up with you, call you a whore. You wouldn’t blame him; hell, you’d understand; you were a whore in this situation.

You lifted your eyes from the floor when you were met with silence on his part, searching his face for some kind of emotion you could pinpoint, but the poor boy's brain was moving a hundred miles a minute. You could tell by the subtle back-and-forth motion his eyes made as he stood in shock. “It was—how—you—ugh—" Eddi stammered, pushing the heel of his hand against his eyes as he tried to gather his thoughts.

“Eddie, baby, deep breaths,” you instructed him, pulling his hands from his eyes and placing them on your chest so he could feel your heartbeat and feel the rise and fall of your chest as you breathed.

After a minute Eddie’s breathing calmed down, the crazy look in his eyes lessening slightly. “How long ago?” He asked through breaths, trying his best to stay calm.

“High school,” you said, averting your gaze out of guilt and shame.

“High school?” He reiterated questioningly.

“Junior year,” you said through a sigh, knowing the information would freak him out more.

“KING STEVE?!?” Eddie yelled, lowering his voice when you flinched due to his loudness, “I’m sorry; it’s just you slept with King Steve; that makes it so much worse,” he said, backing away to sit on the couch, slumping dramatically.

“How is it worse?” Steve asked, arms now crossed over his chest.

“Because you were cool back then,” Eddie sighed, hands covering his face.

“Hey,” Steve whined. “I’m still cool, right, Robin?” Steve finished turning to the girl beside him.

“Oh Dingus, don’t do this to me,” she sighed, sitting beside Eddie. Steve had an offended look on his face. “Look, Munson, I know it seems bad right now, but she’s dating you, not Dingus, so that’s gotta count for something, right?” She said, offering him a sympathetic smile.

“Yeah, I guess,” Eddie mumbled, moving his hands to cross over his chest.

“And I don’t even understand how either of you pulled her,” she added, gesturing towards you.

“I know how I pulled her,” Steve scoffed, making everyone roll their eyes.

“Eddie, it really didn’t mean anything. We went on three dates in high school,” you cut in, sitting beside him.

“Yeah, and we only slept together three times,” Steve said, shrugging. “What?” He asked when he was met with glares from his friends.

“We did not,” you scoffed. “It was only twice,” you told him, standing.

“No second date in a janitor's closet at school and third date.” Steve told you, holding up a finger after each point, waving them in your face, “See, three.”

“Shut up,” you said, smacking his hand away. “We did not hook up in a janitor's closet in between our second and third date,” you told him plainly.

“Really?” He asked, confusion taking over his expression, “Man, was I an asshole I am so sorry,” Steve said, hanging his head.

“It’s fine, Harrington; when you didn’t call me after our date and showed up with Nancy Wheeler the following week, I kind of didn’t put cheating past you,” you shrugged.

“What?” Nancy jumped in, giving Steve a disgusted look.

“Really, Nace, you want to judge me for cheating?” Steve bit back, eyes drifting between her and Johnathan.

“We were technically broken up,” she said unconvincingly.

“Hey, can we get back to the issue at hand, please?” Eddie said, sitting up on the couch.

“Yeah, Steve, how the fuck were you rolling in women in high school?” Robin asked, throwing her hands up. “I mean, you just openly admitted to screwing Nancy in a janitor's closet while you were dating Y/N, and this dude still gets pussy. How?” She asked again, her face one of utter confusion.

“Good point, but not what I was talking about, Robs,” Eddie said, opening his mouth to say more before Nancy cut him off.

“Umm, actually that wasn’t me in the closet,” Nancy said.

“It wasn’t?!?” Steve asked, eyes wide again.

“No, we didn’t sleep together until the night you had that party,” she explained, throwing up quotation marks around the word party.

“Oh yeah, that’s right,” Steve agreed. “Wait, so who did I fuck in the janitor's closet?” Steve asked, though due to the nature of the question, you assumed he was asking himself.

“Seriously, this dude's the one drowning in bitches.” Argyle laughed, “Hey, isn’t it kind of funny that he fucked both your girlfriends?” Argyle said, pointing at Jonathan and Eddie seriously, before bursting into laughter again.

“Sorry.” Jonathan sighed, patting his friend’s back with the arm that wasn’t around Nancy. “he’s smoked a lot so much he’s kinda got this like eternal high; also, he was smoking before we picked him up.”

“Been there,” Eddie said, making Argyle stop laughing and getting real serious all of a sudden.

“Wow dude, you smoke too?” He asked very seriously.

“Yes, Argyle, we’ve smoked together. I sell you your weed,” Eddie said, furrowing his brows at the boy.

“No shit!” Argyle shouted, “Guys, this is my dealer!” He yelled again. “What do you have for me, man?” He questioned.

“What nothing?”

“Oh dude, you’re kind of not really a good drug dealer.” Argyle told him again very seriously.

“Argyle we’re friends,I’m here to hang out,” Eddie explained slowly, making sure to enunciate for the boy.

“Oh yeahhhhh,” he laughed, a dopey smile never leaving as he drew out the word “Oh hey man, I really hate to have to tell you this, but that guy totally fucked your girl." Argyle said, pointing at Steve, before falling back onto the couch, making the whole group laugh.

“Thanks for the heads up, buddy,” Eddie mumbled, rolling his eyes. “It’s nice to know one of my friends cares.” Glares fixed on Steve Harrington.

“What do you want me to do, man? Go back in time and not fuck her?” Steve asked, throwing his arms up in frustration.

“Yeah, kinda,” Eddie answered snarky as ever.

“Well, I can’t, so you’re just gonna have to get over it,” Steve said, gesturing to the boy. “Because last time I checked, they haven’t invented time travel, also it was a great lay, and I don’t want to, so suck it, Munson.” Steve finished, sticking his tongue out at Eddie.

“You sure about that, Harrington?” Max asked, clearly teasing the boy.

“Yeah, I think we should get a second opinion,” Lucas added, standing from his place on the floor next to Max, narrating as he walked to you, “We’re live on the scene, having just found out Eddie’s girlfriend has boned Steve, and now we’re tuning in for the answer to the question we all want to know: Was it in fact a great lay?” Lucas asked you in a goofy voice and all as he held his balled fist to your chin, pretending it was a microphone.

“What? This is so stupid, Eddie. Tell them to cut it out.” Steve sighed, shaking his head.

“No, I’m actually kind of curious. Was it?” Eddie restated making you roll your eyes at the group's antics.

“Eh, it was fine,” you said, playing into the scene by leaning forward to speak into the “microphone.”.

“Ohhhh,” the group all let out mockingly.

“You heard it here first , folks: Steve “the king”Harrington is in fact not a good lay,” Lucas said, clapping a hand on Steve’s back. “Would you like to comment on this, Steve?” he added, holding his hand up to him.

“Get that thing out of my face, Sinclair,” Steve said, slapping the boy's hand away. “You’re telling me Munson's better in the sack than me?” Steve turned to you appalled.

“Yeah,” you told him plainly, shrugging.

“Okay, now she’s just lying,” Steve said.

“Have you considered that maybe I’m just a better lover than you?” Eddie butted in.

Steve looked at Eddie, squinting his eyes at the boy. “Nope, that’s not it.”

“I don’t know, man, maybe you aren’t as good as you think you are.” Eddie said, standing up, Steve’s glare fixed on him as he walked in. In spite of that, Eddie continued, “Maybe your dick is small, or maybe you’re just not a tender lover.”

“I am so a tender lover!” Steve cut him off. “You tell him I’m a tender lover,” he finished, pointing a finger at you.

“Wow dude, you cannot ask my girlfriend to call you a tender lover. Not cool,” Eddie told him, pushing his arm down.

“Why not? It’s not like she’s going to be your girlfriend forever,” Steve said, rolling his eyes.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You asked, butting in.

“It’s just Munson doesn’t really do long-term relationships; he’s more of a love ’em and let ’em go kinda guy.” Steve shrugged. “I mean, the guy's never even been in love.”

“I have so,” Eddie defended himself.

“When?” Steve asked, raising a brow teasingly.

“I—um,” Eddie stammered, eyes shifting to you, subtly trying to get the boy to lay off. Eddie loved you; he was sure of it, but telling you that wasn’t something he was sure of. What if you didn’t love him back? I mean, why would you and he did not want to scare you off.

“What dude, I’m waiting,” Steve pushed, unaware of the tension.

“Oh my God, Harrington, read the fucking room,” Max yelled.

“What do you oh—” Harrington said, coming to the realization second to last, leaving only a confused you behind, “Oh dude, you love her,” Steve said, quickly slapping a hand over his mouth when your eyes widened, face washing over with shock. “You’re going to try and kill me now, aren’t you?” Steve asked Eddie face full of nothing but pure rage.

“No, no, I’m going to kill you,” Eddie corrected, tackling the boy.

The two of them wrestled around until Eddie made it on top, hitting the boy in the ribs. “What is wrong with you? You’re the stupidest person to ever walk the face of the planet. Why would you tell her that?” Eddie yelled, keeping the boy pinned down.

“I’m sorry I am. I’m really stupid, but you’re being even more stupid than me!”

“How is that even possible!”

“Well, she ran away because you made it seem like you don’t love her!”

“What?” Eddie asked, turning around quickly, stumbling off of Steve to run after you when he didn’t see you standing there.

“Y/N, wait!” You heard just as you made it past the van. “Hey, where are you going?” He asked as he made it to you.

“I thought I’d spare you having to break up with me in front of all your friends,” you told him, avoiding his gaze, hoping it was dark enough that he couldn’t see the tears streaming down your face.

“What?” Eddie began, but you cut him off.

“Eddie, it’s fine. Look, I know that I slept with one of your friends, and you obviously don’t love me,” you paused, your voice breaking as you said the words. “So I’m, uhh, I’m just gonna go,” you finished, fresh tears now falling.

“Y/N, will you cut it out? I’m not going to break up with you because you slept with Steve,” he said, grabbing your face to make you look at him, thumbs gently rubbing your tears away.

“You’re not?”

“No, silly, I love you,” Eddie said, smiling brightly.

“You do?” Eddie chuckled at this.

“Yeah, I’m just an idiot, and I was scared, but I really, really do, so please don’t leave me,” Eddie whispered the last part, his gaze shifting down as he let you go. “But, uh, you know, if you don’t—if you don’t—if you want to go, you can; I won’t stop you,” he stammered, rubbing the back of his neck anxiously.

“You’re right about one thing,” you said, stepping closer as he let out a dejected, “Oh.Yeah, you’re an idiot, Eddie Munson,” you told him, grabbing his face and smashing his lips to your own.

Eddie reacted quickly, lips moving against yours, picking you up off your feet.

“Oh wait,” you said, pulling away. Eddie furrowed his brow at you but kept you in the air.

“You forget something?” He chuckled, still confused.

“I love you,” you told him.

“Really?” He asked bright Eddie Munson, smile as you nodded, unable to keep the dopey smile off your own face. “Good,” he said, pulling you back in for another kiss.

“Okay, I just have one question, then we can put the whole Steve thing to bed,” Eddie said, pulling away from the kiss.

“What’s up?” You asked, laughing, as he put you down.

“Exactly how big is Harrington's dick?” He asked, staying serious as you laughed, “Come on, sweetheart, this is serious. Tell me when to stop,” he said, holding his hands up and close together, looking between you and his hands as he moved them apart.

“Come on, your friends are waiting,” you said, rolling your eyes as you walked back towards the house.

Eddie laughed, running after you.

“Okay, let’s do this again,” Eddie said, stepping into the living room. “Everyone, this is my girlfriend Y/N,” Eddie told his friends, smiling hopefully.

“Hey!” They all shouted, standing up to greet you two.

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strangerxperv · 1 year ago

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hiiii id like to request a robin buckley x reader smut, maybe one where robin’s this desperate loser lesbian archetype and she has a huge crush on reader, reader ends up letting robin fuck her however she wants. sorry if this isn’t how you’re supposed to request, i couldn’t find a request button!! thank you!! :)

A request I've been sitting on

Robin Buckley x popular Reader

Minors fuck off

NSFW

word count: 1K

You're popular, like truly popular and friendly with literally everyone. Friends with jocks, nerds, druggies, outcasts, and other popular people (just as a few examples). Being a class clown with charisma sprouting like flowers in spring has its perks.

It's the reason Robin has such a crush on you and can't help but follow after you. You're both besties! The kind where one jokes about fucking the other and that friend desperately wants it to be a reality. She wants to see how pretty your clit is and how good you taste.

Robin's seen you naked thanks to gym class and the occasional slumber parties. She knows what color your nipples are and how much hair is on your pelvis. The way your ass jiggles when you pull up your panties.

Robin knows what your favorite panties and bras are, it's memorized, she even knows your sizes. Hell! You've even posed while wearing lingerie to get Robin's friendly opinion.

What she doesn't know is that you've figured her out, her little secret. You still remember the first time Robin saw you completely nude. You thought she broke her jaw from how hard her jaw hit the floor.

The way she looked you up and down. Blue eyes lingering on your tits and sliding down to your pussy, seemingly stuck. Robin's eyes widen when she sees that you're wet, slick shining.

You pieced it all together after that and loved to make her squirm. Flirting with the brunette was your favorite pass time and left you more than wet. You wanted to see how long it would take her to notice that you knew. You wondered how long it would take for her to snap, what will she do?

Which leads you to now, with your legs spread wide and cunt glistening in front of your best friend, "Is my ex right? Does it look gross?"

Her blue eyes are eclipsed with black that snap up to your face before taking in your entirety. "He's an idiot. If I were a guy I'd be hard as hell."

"You aren't hard? Clits get hard but you said you aren't, so it's not pretty?"

Robin's face reddens and she licks her lips before speaking, "No, I'm definitely hard. It's so fucking hot. Like, seriously hot." Her trembling words encourage your hand to slide down. Gently you spread your cunt open to show your twitching clit and sopping hole. "Whoa."

Her whisper buffs onto your slit and lads on your pearl forcing more slick onto the bed. "Well, I don't know that for sure." You pause, "Can I see?" Her head snaps up at you so fast you worry for her neck and if it might hurt later.

"Y-you want to see, you want to see my...down there?" Robin's face couldn't possibly get any more red and she holds her breath.

"Well...we are both girls so it's not a big deal plus we're both besties! And, to be fair, you've seen me." Still your legs are spread while you keep your lips open. "Would it help if I took everything off?"

With that you remove your hand and whip the shirt over your head. Making fast work of your bra to toss onto the floor. Your tits bounce with the movement leaving you completely nude. "Does this help? Can I see if you're hard?"

At this point you could ask Robin to murder someone and she'd agree. How could she refuse her crush? Especially when she's completely naked on her bed with spread legs.

Robin stands silently and fumbles with the button on her jeans then struggles to pull the zipper down. Shucking them down quickly to kick it aside before yanking her panties off and kicking them aside too. Robin climbs onto the bed and spreads her own tan legs.

You close your thighs and sit up onto your knees crawling to her. In a few short moments you're between her legs. Your hand slides up the bed to below Robin and up the inside of her thigh, it's slick. "I can't see." Comes your breathy explanation as you gently spread her open.

Her clit is a pretty pink color and standing at attention, stiff, and it calls to you. Blowing purposefully onto the shiny pearl makes it twitch desperately. Robin let's out a surprised gaspy moan with her head thrown back.

"You really are hard for me. Does that mean you wanna fuck me? When boys are hard that means they do." You want her to say it. Say that she needs you as much as she needs you.

"Mmm..." Her blue eyes lock with your own pretty eyes, "I want to...I-I do." It's not that Robin is unsure of her feelings but she is afraid.

"Why? Do you like me like a boy does?"

"Please, please don't be mad." There's tears in her blue eyes as she begins to close her legs.

But before she can you're between them pressed against her. Your lips are on her own in a gentle embrace that makes her gasp. Your slick tongue flicks her lower lip announcing it's presence. Slithering into Robin's mouth the wet appendage tangles with her own.

"I could never hate you Robin. Not for this. I know how you feel and I obviously feel the same. Never, never question this." You lay one more quick kiss onto her plump lips, "Since you've liked me longer I think you should fuck me first, however you want me."

Those words seem to spur her forward as she flips you onto your back, "You've known the entire time. You little fucking tease! Do you know how many panties you've ruined and how many nights I had to feel guilty? Cumming to you was the best and worst thing up to this point." She bites your neck until you're crying out her name, "Tonight you're gonna make it all better cause I'm gonna punish you till I feel better."

#robin buckley x reader #robin buckley #robin buckley x you #robin buckley x female reader #robin buckley x y/n #robin buckley smut #robin buckley imagine #robin buckley x lesbian #robin loser lesbian #robin buckley x crush reader

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dearharriet · 1 year ago

Text

I Want Your Video; Steve Harrington x Reader 📼

summary: steve always takes care of you on a night out.

word count: 1.4K

warnings: drinking, smoking, swearing, fem!reader, fluff

a/n: inspired by a djo song with the same title. i’m such a sucker for steve <3

“I ‘ave to go t’the bathrooom,” you tell Steve, holding tight to the hot skin of his bicep. In a drunken stupor, your thumb swipes sweetly over it once, unable to resist.

His other arm, the one you’re not holding to, has your clutch tucked under it. It’s unclear if he’s being gentlemanly or if he’s monitoring your intake. He certainly didn’t take Nancy’s or Robin’s. Or Argyle’s belly bag.

“‘Kay, be safe,” Steve says, patting your elbow. He looks a touch hot, red-cheeked and a little damp around the edges. Dancing must’ve made a mess of you if he looks so disheveled from just standing and talking. You furrow your brows.

“Come with me?” Pouting, your grip slides down to take his hand, but he pulls away.

“Uh—maybe Nance or Rob should do that.”

He says it like such a request is verboten. You look back towards Nance and Robin, relentlessly moving on the dance floor.

“They won’t go with meeee—“ you whine, and then simper when he sighs in defeat.

Steve steers you toward the stairwell that leads down to the toilets. While you weave through the crowds, he stays behind you, a steadying force at your back.

The stairwell is much cooler than the bar. It’s a relief to suck in air that’s not muggy with sweat and beer. At the bottom of the dingey stairs a couple is draped over one another talking closely, and nearer to the bathroom there’s a trio of people sharing a smoke and waiting. Steve and you take up residence just next to them. The concrete wall is cooling on your hot back and it elicits a sigh.

“Having fun?” Steve asks, facing you with his arms crossed and a shoulder leant on the wall. Your clutch is shoved in his front pocket like a miniature Bible.

“Uh-huh.” You nod with exaggerated windedness. “Wish you’d dance with me, though.”

The bathroom door clicks open and a guy comes out, nodding awkwardly at all seven heads turned his way. The queue dwindles to three again—plus Steve, who is smiling at you apologetically.

“Nah, you wouldn’t wanna see me dance. I tend to intimidate people with how skilled I am.”

A laugh bubbles out of you. “Ohhh, right,” you nod. “Must be hard, having all that talent. And you’re s’busy keepin’ me sober.” You speak so fast the words slur on the way out, and Steve chuckles teasingly.

“I’m doin’ a shit job, aren’t I? You’re in a state already.” He reaches out and brushes your arm when he says this, his knuckles leaving goosebumps behind them. When he pulls his hand back he’s grown more sincere. “Who said I’m keeping you sober? I’ve let you drink all you want.”

“You let me,” you tease, “But you’re keeping my wallet. And you’ve been watching me all night.”

“Yeah, well.” He looks defensive. “Someone’s gotta have your back.”

The bathroom door opens again, and the line shrinks even more. You pick the conversation right back up.

“What ‘bout Nance and Rob? And the guys?” Turning toward Steve, your arms cross so you’re mirroring him. “They’ve all got their wallets.”

“They’ve got each other, too.” Steve playfully swings at your shoulder, and you take the hit willingly. “Who’s got you, huh, rockstar?”

A smile splits your face with glee at the nickname. You step closer and you’re about to answer—you, you’ve got me—when Steve clears his throat.

You frown, and Steve smiles, juts his chin toward the bathroom door. It’s empty, you realize, and Steve and you are alone. It seems the third member of the bathroom trio was only company, like Steve.

“You know what to do,” Steve mutters, and you reluctantly peel away from the wall.

“Oh, wait!” You whip around and offer a hand out for your wallet. Steve gives it over wordlessly, and then you’re locking the door behind you.

As suspected, you look a mess. Your hair is frizzed and a touch tangled. Dark mauve eyeliner has smoked itself out—all over your undereye—and your cheeks are red and dampened with sweat.

Despite it all, you feel good. You brought your clutch so you could touch up your lipstick, and you do, but you don’t need to. It’s almost like what Steve said; You’re a rockstar. You look like one, anyway.

After washing your hands, the only thing you do to your appearance is fluff your hair up even more, playing up this smudged version of your original look.

It feels impossibly easy to grin at Steve once you emerge from the bathroom. Steve laughs.

“Why do I feel like you got more drunk while you were in there?”

You tighten your smile primly. “Not drunker, just better looking.”

Steve pulls his brows together almost painfully, his features unreadable. You saunter over to him anyways, stepping into his bubble. His full back is pressed to the wall now, a leg kicked up, and you’re as close as you can get without being thigh-to-knee. Steve’s nervous eyes scan you.

“Want me to take that?” Steve points to your clutch. You nod, but ignore the hand he has waiting for you. Feeling bold, you reach around him and tuck it into his back pocket. Your chests meet, and then crush closer as you both gasp. Pulling away feels suddenly impossible, so you don't, and Steve doesn’t make you. He licks his lips.

“Y’didn’t lock the door,” he mumbles, but your brain jumbles as his hand smooths over your ribs.

“Hmm?” You can’t be bothered with words, feeling more intoxicated by his touch than the three drinks in your system.

Steve rubs a small circle over your side. “The bathroom door,” he says softly, “it stayed on vacant the whole time.”

Oh, yeah. It had. Your mouth pops open, and then you shoot him a wry grin.

“Whoops.”

Steve’s responding head shake is exasperated but fond.

“You trust me too much,” he sighs.

It’s not a joke. A string of insecurity holds the sentence together, and you know what it is. It’s easy to see that he knows, too. Moving closer, committing to the embrace you’ve found yourself in, you pin Steve with a sincere stare.

“Do I?” It’s excessively rhetorical, stilling any rebuttal he has. Steve purses his lips together, and then glances at yours. You toe up ever so slightly, in anticipation. Both of Steve’s hands are on you now, though they’re holding your arms, keeping you at bay.

“We can’t,” Steve whispers, glancing at the stairwell, and you realize the bar is still upstairs with all of your friends. They’d probably come looking soon, vying for another round, another dance. You look to the stairwell too, and then to the other side of the hall, and back to Steve.

“Yet here we are.” The murmur is sultry, luring Steve closer, tempting his hand to wind into the soft hair at the nape of your neck.

“Here we are,” Steve repeats, and then your lips are abruptly too occupied by his to respond.

Steve’s hand that’s not gripping your neck winds over your shoulders, keeping you close. His nose crushes to your cheek as he drags his mouth over yours again and again.

A part of you—the same part that’s observing how good of a kisser he is—can’t believe you’re mouth to mouth with the Steve Harrington from high school. The other half, probably the truer half, knows it’s been a long time coming. Years of patching up and skirting around each other, protecting each other because you had to, and now taking care of each other because you wanted to. Because no one else would.

When you separate, you’re both breathless and effervescent. Steve is staring at you like you hung the moon.

“You’re so beautiful,” he coos, his thumb caressing the rosy apple of your cheek. Steve has a way of marrying sincerity and charm, and it needles at your heart ruthlessly.

You beam and kiss him again as a thank you.

“Think you might be glowing,” he continues, speaking right into your mouth. His teeth clack against yours as the kiss grows too smiley for its own good.

“You look pretty, too,” you goad, tracing his lips. “Cherry’s a good look on you.”

Steve pinches his brow and then notices your smeared lipstick.

“Aw, come on.”

You laugh and help him wipe it off, but when you return to the bar later, Argyle still complements Steve’s beautiful makeup.

thank you for reading ! my requests are open :)

masterlist

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fic #steve Harrington x you #steve Harrington imagine #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington x y/n fluff #steve harrington x fem #Steve Harrington x reader fanfic #steve harrington fluff #steve the hair harrington #stranger things #argyle #robin buckley #nancy wheeler #king steve

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virginburial · 1 month ago

Text

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅

"Why do you want to make this movie?" "I want an Oscar." "No, look me in my eyes. Why do you want to make this movie?" "I...don't want to pay rent anymore."

PARADISO ⋆˚࿔ a steve harrington fic ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅

In Los Angeles, 2006; two ex television producers struggle after losing their jobs from the hit dating reality tv show ETERNAL. Eager to gain fame and cash, they decide to produce a erotic thriller. As tensions rise from production and cast drama; the producers find themselves living out their own movie.

"Picture a California girl. Sun-Glossed, bikini-clad, her long blonde hair whipping in the wind that cuts down from the rocks along the malibu coast. She turns, from the towel on which she kneels, salt and sand still clinging to her skin, and looks over her shoulder at you. Her gleaming eyes say: Welcome to paradise. They say, We are free here."

warning: smut (p n v and more, minors stay out!) y/n fic with themes of substance abuse, strong language, toxic relationships/friendships, prop weapons (and more will be added later as the story progresses!) this is primarily a Steve Harrington fic, however, y/n will have romances with both Eddie Munson and Nancy Wheeler, because this fic is #messyboots! there will be steddie too

Based off of: UnREAL (2015), Saltburn (2023), and Secretary (2002)

Paradiso Soundtrack ꩜ .ᐟ with hits from artists like THE WEEKND, MAGDALENA BAY, BLOOD ORANGE, KALI UCHIS, AND MORE!

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅

Chapter one: Decameron

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robinsno1lesbian · 8 months ago

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Can u do a Robin smut where she like teaches the reader how to eat pussy? Like she has the reader go down on her and gives her tips to help make her cum

warnings: SMUT!! oral sex (robin receiving), inexperienced reader, first time, pet names (baby, good girl), dirty talk, praise kink, hair pulling, established relationship. (1.1k)

a/n: thank you guys sm for all the requests!! your feedback obviously means a lot + reading your suggestions is definitely a great inspo so, if you have any ideas yourself, keep it up! <3

you’ve never gone down on anyone before her. you had pictured it, in the safety of your own room, had envisioned the taste of her slick against your tongue, the way she’d squirm and moan for you.

but you’d never gotten the chance to, well, practice. and while your lack of experience had never been something that necessarily bothered you, it gets to you now: the fact that you don’t exactly know how to please her, no matter how badly you want to

now that you’re face to face (face to cunt?) with her, you have no clue what to actually do.

robin has her thighs spread on your bedsheets, revealing all of her to you with a soft smile on her lips. she lets you take in the sight patiently and watches with a bemused, blissed out expression.

“like what you see?” she rasps with a gentle nod of her chin.

“mhm” you hum absentmindedly, your gaze still fixated on her. your fingertips gently trace her outer lips and you watch her way she opens up in amazement. robin is pretty, endlessly pretty, with freckles that really do reach everywhere on her skin. she’s wet with arousal, pink and wanting, framed by curls just a shade darker than her dirty blonde hair.

she chuckles, two of her own fingers coming down to rest between her legs, forming a V-shape and spreading herself open for you to see.

“fuck” you mutter underneath your breath. robin is breathtaking, all of her is. you can see her clit from where you’re laying on your stomach. it’s throbbing for you.

“i don’t-“ you finally admit, eyes darting upwards to meet hers. “i don’t really like…know what i’m doing, i guess”

“oh baby” robin whispers, her free hand cupping your cheek so her thumb is running over your bottom lip. “that’s okay. it’s okay. i’ll show you”

“you’ll-“ you tilt your head as you repeat the words. “show me?”

“yeah” she promises assuringly, the pad of her finger still tracing patterns over your skin. “don’t worry. i’ll guide you and tell you what to do yeah? i promise it’ll feel really good”

“okay” you finally agree, eyes darting back to the task at hand. “okay”

“good girl” robin whispers, a little smile flashing over her features.

the first thing you notice when you put your mouth on her is the way robin sounds. her raspy voice gets high-pitched and carries more of those familiar cracks in it. her fingers tighten in your hair and she mutters a quiet “fuck y/n” under her breath.

and then, then you notice the way she tastes. it’s unlike anything you’ve ever had before, her wetness slick against your broad tongue. your eyes roll back in your head involuntarily at the mere taste as you lick through her folds and feel the way she parts for you.

curious and with her voice whispering words of encouragement, you drag your tongue all the way through her, up to her pulsing clit, where you swirl around it in clockwise circles.

“oh my god, baby” robin groans, lifting her head to look down at you. “you’re a fucking natural, y/n, fuck”

spurred on by the constant praise (that sends pleasure right to your core) you flick your tongue against the bud of nerves. robin’s legs tremble around your head as she tries to hold them open for you, her ankles crossing over your back to cage you in.

“you have to- ah- suck it” she explains, her eyes heavy lidded and hazy with want. “suck it baby, wrap your lips around it and- oh! oh, yeah just like that”

you hum around her clit, sending vibrations through robin’s entire body that have the woman above you shivering.

there’s nothing but robin. the taste of her, the scent of her, the feeling of her hands as they grab you by the hair and pull you just a little closer.

“is that good for you?” you gasp, lifting your head from her pussy to catch your breath. the lower half of your face is smeared with her wetness and your spit,

“so fucking good” robin praises, her hand loosening its grip ever so slightly. “gonna make me cum like that? with that pretty mouth of yours?”

you nod, eagerly diving back in. your mouth wraps around her again, sucking like she instructed you to. you’re craving her praise, craving her taste and the way she moans above you.

“oh, right there!” robin gasps, back arching against your mouth. “holy fucking shit baby”

you’re eating her out with determination now, eager for robin to reach her height and release over your mouth. her breathing grows ragged, her hips grinding against you impatiently. robin’s moans are enough to encourage you further, her praise like music to your ears.

cries of “a little to the left” and “you’re doing such a good job for me baby, such a good girl eating my pussy like that” and “oh! right there! right there” are the only things echoing through your room for the next few minutes, only accompanied by the sound of your tongue lapping up her arousal and your own, occasional moans.

you could stay there forever. she could suffocate you with her pussy and you would die for it happily.

eventually, robin’s thighs close around your head, practically crushing it between them.

“y/n” she rasps, browns drawn together in concentration and pleasure. “baby i’m- oh my god your mouth, fuck. i’m so- i’m close”

you double your efforts, eating her out like your life depends on it. you feel it before robin seems to sense it herself -the way she throbs.

and then she cries out.

“oh my god” she rasps. “baby i’m gonna cum! you’re gonna make me cum!”

robin’s eyes meet yours then, in that very moment you push her over the edge with one final, harsh flick of your tongue against her clit before you suck it past your lips.

her legs clamp down around your head and her entire body goes rigid when she reaches her height. her hand reaches for yours. you’re not even sure if she notices any of it but you gladly take it, squeeze it in your own to anchor her as she cums.

you knew robin was pretty, obviously. the prettiest girl you had ever seen, precisely. but this, her face contorted in pleasure, her body heaving, naked and in bliss, might be your new favorite sight to see.

she’s still trembling when you lean back, a string of saliva connecting her pussy to your mouth. she looks down at you hazily, her lips curling up in a proud smile.

“oh y/n” she chuckles breathlessly, craning her neck to see you. “and you were worried you wouldn’t be good at this? god…”

you wipe your chin with the back of your hand right before she pulls you in.

“come here” robin laughs and you kiss the smile right from her mouth. “time to make up, yeah?”

#robin buckley #robin buckley x reader #robin buckley x female reader #robin buckley x fem!reader #robin buckley x you #robin buckley x y/n #robin buckley smut #robin buckley x reader smut #robin buckley imagine #robin buckley fanfiction #robin buckley fanfic #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction

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robinbuckleyluvr · 5 months ago

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⊹˚˖⁺ whispers - robin buckley

masterlist | requests

Summary: short and sweet, who doesn’t love to gossip

Warnings: none

Notes: are robin buckley posts still popular in this day and age or did i miss my window after being so busy?

Word count: 201

⸻⊱༺ 

Robin Buckley would be absolutely lying if she said she did not enjoy these moments, moments of closeness and a side of giggles.

Yet again, Scoops stood relatively empty, Y/N and Robin behind the counter gossiping to each other, occasionally exploding in fits of laughter.

Robin loved seeing her laugh and smile at her words, though she would never admit it.

Steve could hear them from the back, in fact, he began to get sick of it. What could they be talking about that required so much whispering and giggling?

Robin leaned into her ear, a smile so big you wouldn’t miss it miles away, yet whispering only loud enough for her co-worker to hear.

Y/N’s eyes widened as she listened closely to what her co-worker had to say on the matter the two spoke of, before she could reply, Steve barged out wearing an exasperated look on his face.

“What could you two be possibly talking about that requires so much giggling? Seriously?” Steve exclaimed, annoyance and despair filling his words as his eyes darted between the pair.

It only took once glance between Robin Buckley and Y/N for them to explode in quiet laughter.

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moonstruckme · 2 months ago

Note

What about Robin with a blind date reader. Set up by Steve. Or Reader meeting the group for the first time after dating Robin for a while and being super nervous. Or Robin and reader being like super close and either Robin or the reader comes to the other after a bad date with someone else and they just comfort the other person. Maybe a love confession?

Thank you for requesting (and for your patience)!

cw: implied compulsive heterosexuality, talk of being queer in the 80s (though lots would apply now too tbh), bi panic

Robin Buckley x fem!reader ♡ 1.7k words

You let yourself in Robin’s back door. She’s fishing pickles out of a jar.

“Eugh. Freak.”

“Hey.” She doesn’t have to turn around to know it’s you, crunching a pickle between her teeth unabashedly. “That was quick. Was your date a taxidermist or something?”

“Nope.” You slouch down on the couch beside her, drawing a throw around your shoulders. Robin’s mom always keeps the heat low to save money; their home in the winter is barely warmer than an igloo. Robin likely has three layers on underneath her old band hoodie. “Just lame.”

Robin’s eyebrows go up. “Harsh.”

You sigh, drawing your knees in. “I know. Sorry, I don’t mean to be mean.”

“Hey, don’t apologize to me.” She nudges your foot with hers, smiling a little. “I don’t care, I’m not friends with the guy.”

“No, but it’s not fair. He was fine.” Robin gives you a dubious look, and you laugh. It loosens something inside you. “He was nice,” you amend. “Really, there wasn’t anything wrong with him. I don’t know what my problem is. He just wasn’t what I was thinking he’d be.”

“Huh.” Robin leans into the couch cushion, fishing for another pickle. Her fork clinks against the edges of the glass jar with a restless tinkling. “I thought you said you really liked him. Unless I’m getting this one mixed up with another one? Sorry, I can’t keep them straight…”

She looks genuinely perplexed. It makes you laugh again. “Okay, there haven’t been that many.”

Robin shrugs. “You know all men look the same to me.”

“They do not!”

“Most of them do.” She grins, and you realize you feel about ten times lighter than you had before you came over. Time spent with Robin tends to have that effect on you.

You mirror her, letting your weight sink into the back cushion of the couch. “I did think I really liked him,” you say, toying with the weave of your throw. “But now…I don’t know, I guess maybe I wanted to like him more than I actually did.”

“Why?”

“I think I just really want to be in love,” you answer plainly. “I see it happen to other people, and it makes me curious, and also I just…I sort of just feel ready, you know? Like I want it to happen, but I don’t know with who. Or, honestly, it’s more like I’m trying to force it on people who don’t fit. And I have this feeling like it could happen so easily, like I’m just meant to fall in love, but I don’t have anyone to focus that on right now. Sorry, I don’t know if that makes any sense. Do you ever feel like that?”

You look up, and you realize that your fingers have found the string of Robin’s hoodie unconsciously, coiling it loosely around a fingertip. Her eyes seem stuck to it, but they raise to yours after a moment. Blue darkened to a deep gray like the ocean in a storm.

“No,” she says. It’s barely more than a breath.

You run the pad of your thumb over the plasticy end of her hoodie string. “No?”

She offers you a half-hearted, flickering smile. “I guess I probably don’t fall in love until I have someone to focus it on. I don’t know, maybe that’s just how I work.”

You feel your brows scrunch. You’re not sure if she means that she’s never felt your craving for love or that she already has fallen in love before, but you get the sense there’s some secret being uncovered here. It’s not like you and Robin to have secrets.

“But you’ve never been in a relationship,” you say bemusedly. “Have you?”

Hurt twinges in her expression.

“Sorry,” you say automatically, dropping the string of her hoodie.

“Do you think you have to be in a relationship to fall in love?” Robin asks. Her face is starting to color beneath her freckles.

“I don’t know,” you say. “But wouldn’t you have to really know someone?”

“You don’t have to be in a relationship to get to know someone.”

You nod, considering this. “So, have you been in love?”

Robin shrugs. She’s really pink now. “I don’t know, I think so. There’s not really a way to be sure, right? I mean, I’ve asked—Steve’s always like ‘you just know,’ which is the worst answer ever because I’m not super confident in my intuition, and it seems kind of important thing to be wrong about…but, I don’t know, it’s just like how you know when you’re happy or sad, right? Except—”

“So you think you have.”

Robin’s bottom lip dimples like she’s chewing the inside. She gives a half-shrug. “I guess.”

You feel your eyes widen. “With who?”

Again, her brows bunch as though you’ve said something cruel. “That’s not fair.”

“What?” A surprised laugh trips out of you. “Come on, you know all the guys I’ve dated.”

“Yeah,” she says quietly, “but it’s not guys for me.”

Your excitement drains away. You know things are different for Robin. You’ve talked before about how her dating life is riskier than yours, how the worst that could happen isn’t just rejection but social ostracization or worse. You’ve suspected Robin stays blase and quippy about relationships because she doesn’t think one is possible for her, at least not right now; you just didn’t know it hurt her like this. You think that you should have known.

“It’s fine.” She gives you another of those brief smiles, probably seeing the guilt on your face. “I’m happy with just being friends. I don’t know if they would ever want anything—I don’t even know if they like girls—so, I mean, it’s enough just to sort of be in their orbit.”

“Robin.” She’s abandoned her fork in the pickle jar, only a few small pickles swimming in the juice. You wrap your hand around hers. “I’m sorry.”

She shakes her head, turning her gaze from yours to set the jar down on the floor. “It’s fine,” she says again.

“If it’s someone good enough for you to fall in love with,” you try, “she probably wouldn’t be mean about it even if she didn’t like girls.”

“I don’t want to mess anything up,” Robin says quickly.

“You might not.” Your chest aches with earnestness. If there’s anyone who deserves to give love and have it given back, it’s Robin. “Listen, I know you; you’d never pressure anyone, and she probably won’t want to give you up either. So even if she can’t see you that way, it probably won’t ruin the relationship you already have. But I think she’ll like you back.”

Robin’s eyes meet yours again. “Seriously?”

You smile at her, bumping your foot into hers lightly. “Yeah, of course. Robs, you’re beautiful. And you’re funny, and smart. You’re creative. I mean, you’re the best friend I’ve ever had, so I can only imagine what a great girlfriend you’d be. Anyone would be lucky to have you. I’m not just saying that, I really think that…that…”

Robin has never been very good at hiding what she’s feeling. More often than not she’ll blurt it out, but in the rare cases that she doesn’t anyone can find it on her face. The look that comes over her is a rawness like you’ve never seen. Realization seeps into you like a snowmelt, softening into the earth on the first day of warm sun.

Robin looks away.

Your lips part, but no sound comes out. Your heart feels lodged in your throat. You’ve never known your friend to be this quiet.

When you do get your voice working, it’s only an echo. “Anyone would be lucky,” you say.

Robin seems frozen. An animal in the woods, unwilling to breathe for fear of being noticed.

“Robin,” you say, softly. “I’m really lucky to have you. I love you so much.”

Finally, her gaze flickers up to yours. “But not like that,” she finishes for you.

“I don’t…I don’t know.”

She seems to take this worse than a rejection. Her eyes squint for a moment in hurt and confusion. She draws into her hoodie, retreating away from you. “Oh.”

“I’m sorry.” You sound raw now, too. You look at her lips, at the soft scrunch of her brows. The tug in your middle is familiar, and yet unnamed. “I just haven’t…I haven’t ever thought that way before. About girls. I don’t know yet.”

“It’s fine.” Robin shakes her head. She’s talking fast again, and it’s almost a relief, this small return to normalcy. “You don’t have to know—I mean, I knew, but I don’t really know what it’s like for other people, or if—anyway, I’m not trying to force you to feel anything. You don’t have to.”

“I know that,” you promise her, again reaching for her hand. It’s an instinct, you don’t even register you’ve done it until her palm is soft and cool inside yours and she’s looking at you with intense bemusement. You know you’re not being fair. You squeeze her hand anyway. “I know you’re not trying to make me say or feel anything, and I’m not saying anything because of you. I just…I guess I’m thinking that I might feel things anyways. But we just talked about this, right? No one with half a brain would give you up. I still want to be your friend. I might…I might want to try for more than that, but I know I want to be your friend. Is that okay?”

You force yourself to look at her, though it burns just a little. You wouldn’t blame Robin if she didn’t want to be your friend now, honestly; you’re the one making things awkward, not her. But you watch her face as she processes this (She really is beautiful. You’ve always known it, but now you know it differently) and you sense what she’s going to say before she says it.

“Yeah.” Robin’s fingers tighten around yours, cold and slightly sticky with pickle juice. “Of course, totally. I couldn’t…I wouldn’t want to give you up either.”

You try on a smile. “Maybe we could try the other thing sometime.”

Robin laughs; it’s a nervous sound, but it brightens the room just the same. You relax some. “Like what,” she asks, “hang out? We already do that.”

“You know what I mean.” You push your calf into hers teasingly. Have you always sat this close? The room feels warmer just for being near her. “Like, in a date way.”

Robin watches your face. You try to be brave, letting her see the sincerity in it.

“Yeah, okay.” One of her fingers moves against yours, the tiniest caress. “We could do that.”

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keeryhours · 3 months ago

Text

naked in manhattan - robin buckley

Robin Buckley x Best friend! female reader

Masterlist

Stranger Things Masterlist

2024 Promptmas Masterlist

Summary:

You share a hotel room with your best friend Robin on a band trip to NYC, and things get exciting.

Warnings:

Smut (18+), fingering, oral (both f receiving), underage drinking, reader is conflicted about her sexuality

Word Count: 3.2k

A/N:

I’m posting out of order, but here’s my second fic for The Twelve Days of Promptmas event by @littlexdeaths ! Prompt: “mistletoe mayhem”.

—

The excitement in the air was palpable as the bus slowly made its way through the busy streets of New York City. Snow was falling outside and buildings were decorated with lights and garland. It felt like a winter wonderland.

“Holy shit,” your best friend, Robin, said, her face pressed against the bus window. “I can’t believe we’re actually in New York.”

You adjusted your clarinet case at your feet. You had spent weeks excited about this band trip, and now it was finally here. You couldn’t believe how lucky you were to get to visit the city.

The bus rolled up to the hotel - it was much nicer than you’d been expecting. The Hawkins High marching band filed off the bus, the band director leading everyone into the lobby.

If you thought the outside of the buildings were decked out for Christmas, the inside of the hotel lobby was something else entirely. Tinsel and garland spread around the large room with marble floors, a giant grand Christmas tree sitting right in the middle.

“Wow,” you whispered, taking it all in.

“This is so cool!” Robin exclaimed, taking your hand in hers. She turned to you, her eyes shining and a smile on her face. “I’m so glad we’re here together.”

“Me too!” You told her, squeezing her hand in return.

The band director began handing out room assignments and hotel room keys. You crossed your fingers you’d be assigned with someone you actually liked, since you weren’t allowed to choose.

When you were given your room assignment, you practically screamed in excitement. Robin looked over your shoulder, seeing you had somehow been paired together.

“Yes!!” She yelled, wrapping you in a hug. “I’m so fucking excited. This is going to be the best trip ever.”

You and Robin separated long enough to grab your luggage and instrument cases, then you were piling into the elevator with some other kids from band. You rode up to the 10th floor, walking down the carpeted hallway to room 1006.

“This is us,” Robin said, scanning the card and pushing open the door.

The room wasn’t big but it was nice. Plush carpeting covered the floor, a floral wallpaper on the walls. A king size bed sat in the middle of the room with a TV and mini fridge across from it. Two comfortable looking chairs sat in the corner with a table between. A large glass window covered the wall behind them. The bathroom was directly to the left of the door, a huge tub and glass shower inside.

“This is amazing,” you said, looking around your accommodation for the weekend. You and Robin stored your luggage against the wall and collapsed down on the incredibly soft bed, exhausted from the long ride.

After you both had a shower and ate dinner in the hotel restaurant with the rest of band, the two of you retired back to your room for the night. You were sitting cross legged on the floor facing each other, talking.

“So, I brought something,” Robin said, wiggling her eyebrows.

You raised yours at her. “What?”

She reached into her bag and dug around, before pulling out a bottle of tequila. “Ta-da!”

You laughed hard. “Oh my god. You did not sneak a bottle of tequila on our band trip.”

Robin smiled mischievously. “I absolutely did. Steve got it for us. Want to take shots with me?”

“Um, absolutely.”

Robin didn’t bring shot glasses, so you used the styrofoam coffee cups provided by the hotel. Robin poured you each a shot and you downed it, making a face.

As you drank together, you felt your cheeks flush, both of you feeling giggly and light. Robin had the cutest blush when she was drunk-

Wait, what?

You didn’t think about Robin in that way. You didn’t have feelings for her, she was just your best friend. You didn’t have feelings for girls in that way. Right?

After six shots each you were both pretty drunk, laughing and gossiping and talking about anything and everything.

“Oh my god,” Robin said, barely able to talk through her laughter. “So Steve starts flirting with this girl, right?” She gets lost in a fit of giggles again. “And the girl literally throws her ice cream at him!”

You busted out into laughter. “No way!”

“Yes! I swear to god!” Robin pours two more shots, handing you your cup. You both down them again.

“Oops,” Robin giggled as she spilled some of the alcohol down the side of her face.

You don’t know what made you do it, but you leaned in, licking the excess alcohol off her cheek. Robin’s eyes went wide as you sat back, and then both of you fell into another fit of laughter.

“You’re so cute when you’re drunk,” Robin said. She looked down at the bottle in her hand, like she was suddenly shy. Robin was never shy around you.

“You think so?” You felt like you looked like a mess. You were sure your hair was all disheveled, and you were dressed in your old pajamas, a t-shirt and pair of sweatpants. You definitely didn’t feel cute.

“Of course I do.” Robin looked back up at you. “Have you ever kissed a girl?”

The question caught you completely off guard. Your eyes widened, a blush creeping onto your cheeks. “No.”

“Would…you want to?”

You opened your mouth to answer, but no sound came out. “Uh…”

Robin immediately backtracked. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. Forget I said anything, I don’t know why I-“

“I would.”

Robin stopped cold. “You would?”

“Yeah…why not?” You felt your whole body blushing, feeling like your skin was on fire.

A smile spread across Robin’s face. “I got something else.” You watched her curiously as she dug back in her bag - pulling out a hanging mistletoe. “I snagged this from the lobby,” she admitted sheepishly.

You laughed. “Oh my god, you’re so cheesy.”

She smiled, holding the mistletoe above both your heads, between you. “Now we have to kiss. It’s the law.”

You couldn’t wipe the dopey grin off your face as you both leaned in. Your eyes fell closed as you neared Robin’s face, and then you were feeling the softness of her plush lips against yours.

She raised her hand to cup your cheek as you kissed, and it’s like the world fell away around you. You couldn’t think about anything but how her lips molded to yours, the way she smelled and tasted like her fruity bubblegum from earlier along with a hint of the tequila. Her tongue ran across your bottom lip, and you opened your mouth, your tongue meeting hers.

You moaned into the kiss, surprising yourself. Robin moved closer, her hand moving to tangle in the hair at the back of your head. You leaned backwards as she crawled over you, kissing you deeper.

“Robin…” you said, not wanting her to stop but feeling conflicted. You had never had feelings for girls before, but Robin was making you feel something you’d never experienced, and it scared you.

“What?” she asked between kisses to your soft lips.

“This is wrong…”

She pulled away a little, looking at you with concern. “How is it wrong?”

“I don’t…I don’t like girls in that kinda way…” You weren’t sure if you were trying to convince Robin or yourself.

Robin buried her face in your neck, placing a gentle kiss there. “You know it’s okay to like girls and boys, right?” She murmured into your ear. “If you want to do this, it’s okay. There’s nothing wrong with you.”

Her words made your heart race in your chest. You did want this, you knew deep down. You were just terrified. Robin pulled back again to look into your eyes, and you feared she could see the conflict in them.

“Seriously. It’s okay to want this,” she repeated. “But if you don’t, just tell me. It won’t change anything between us.”

You thought for a second. “I…I want this.”

Robin smiled. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

She leaned in again, slowly this time, and when you felt her lips pressed to yours once again, everything felt right. She kissed you with a passion you had never experienced from the guys you had kissed. You ran your fingers through her short hair, moaning into the kiss and not even caring anymore. She returned the moan, her tongue meeting yours again.

“Do you want to move to the bed?” She asked, breathless.

“Yeah, yeah that would be better,” you giggled. She helped you up and you sat down on the bed, Robin crawling back over you again as you laid back. She leaned over you on her left arm, her right hand trailing up your side and grasping at your breasts over your shirt.

As you made out, you got more and more turned on, wanting Robin to touch you everywhere. She must have had the same idea, because she began pushing your t-shirt up your body.

“Can I take this off?” She asked, reluctantly pulling away from your kiss-swollen lips.

“Yes,” you breathed out, sitting up to help her get the clothing off. You were left bare chested, and Robin’s eyes locked on them as you reached for her shirt to remove it as well.

You had never seen Robin like this. Your eyes went wide and you tentatively reached forward, grabbing at her breasts and rubbing your thumbs over her hardened nipples. She hummed at the feeling, her eyes falling closed.

“Have you ever done this with a girl before?” You asked.

“No, but I’ve always wanted to,” she admitted. “…Especially with you,” she added sheepishly.

You smiled back at her. “You’ve had a crush on me, Robs?”

She blushed, looking away. “Yeah, for forever.”

You placed your hand on her cheek, turning her head to look at you again. “I always thought you were beautiful.”

“Really?”

“Of course.” You leaned in to capture her lips with yours again. “You’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.”

Robin blushed even deeper. She looked so cute with her cheeks tinged red, her lips wet from kissing. Your kisses. You pulled her back for more.

Robin leaned over you again, kissing down your neck and chest until she was wrapping her lips around one of your nipples. You gasped, but it turned into a moan as she began to suck on it, running her tongue in circles around the bud.

“Robin,” you moaned, your fingers tangling in her hair again. She moved to the other one, sucking gently. Her hand wandered down your body to the waistband of your sweatpants. Her hand dipped beneath the fabric of your panties, and you gasped again as you felt her fingers against your clit, beginning to rub slow circles.

“Is that okay?” she whispered against your skin. You nodded vigorously.

“Yes, please don’t stop-“

You could feel her smile against the skin of your chest. “Can I take them off?”

“Yeah, yes,” you breathed, wanting more of the way she was making you feel.

Robin hooked her fingers into the waist of your pants and panties and pulled them down together, exposing you completely to her. Her eyes widened as she looked at you, and you suddenly felt self conscious.

“What?” You asked, hoping there wasn’t something wrong or that she found unattractive about your body.

“I just…” she started, eyes locked on your body. “I’ve never seen a girl naked in person like this before.”

“Me either,” you said, blushing slightly. “I feel like you’re overdressed, though.”

Robin giggled. “Want me to take these off?” She asked, hooking her thumbs into the waist of her own pants.

“Please,” you confirmed, and she slid the clothing off her body while holding eye contact with you.

God, she was even more beautiful like this. Seeing her completely naked had your heart beating wildly in your chest, and you couldn’t help reaching out to touch her, running your hands all across her smooth skin, her breasts, her ass, over her stomach and down to her core, running your fingers through her folds and feeling how wet she was for you. It was so much different than being with a man, you felt a little out of your depth.

But evidently you were doing something right with the way she closed her eyes and moaned, looking absolutely ethereal. She laid on the bed next to you and reached her hand over to do the same to you.

Before you knew what was happening, she pushed you over and was back on top of you, kissing her way down your body. When she reached between your legs, your thighs were trembling with anticipation - you hadn’t had many guys want to go down on you, usually they only wanted it themselves. But now Robin was placing kisses on the inside of your thighs before licking a stripe through your folds, causing your back to arch off the bed. “Oh!”

“Feel good?” she asked from between your legs, before licking over your clit.

“Fuck, yeah,” you said, voice breathless as you felt the most intense pleasure. Sex with guys never felt like this.

You could feel her smile, and she wrapped her lips around your clit, sucking gently before running her tongue around it again. You felt her finger at your entrance, and she pushed it inside, pumping it in and out as she ate your pussy eagerly, like she had been dying to do this for ages.

“Oh my god Robin,” you moaned, hands grasping at her hair. “How’d you learn to do this?”

She pulled away long enough to giggle - “Just a natural, I guess-“ and then she was diving back in. She licked at your pussy greedily, drinking in everything you gave her. She added another finger, pumping them into you and curling them up so they hit a spot deep inside you that had you seeing stars.

It’s like she knew exactly what to do to bring you to your high. You felt it building quickly, thighs trembling around her head as she lapped at your core, paying special attention to your clit. “Tastes so good,” she remarked, moaning as she ate your pussy. “Just like I always imagined.”

“Robin…I’m…”

She grabbed onto your right thigh with her free hand, squeezing it tightly as she buried her face in your pussy, nose pressing against your clit when she would lick lower before moving back up to suck on it again. She moved her left hand from your thigh and trailed it up your belly to pinch at your nipples. “Cum for me, babe,” she encouraged, pumping her fingers faster and sucking hard on your clit.

That pushed you over the edge and you came hard, holding her face to your pussy as you grinded against her tongue and moaned so loud you were sure your bandmates could hear on the other side of the wall. “Robin! Fuck, Robin, oh my god!”

She drank up your release greedily, riding out your high until you were so sensitive you were pushing her away. When she looked up at you, her mouth and chin were covered in your wetness. She collided her lips with yours and your tongues tangled together, tasting yourself on her tongue.

“That was so fucking hot,” she said, breathless. “I can’t believe we just did that.”

“Me either,” you giggled, still feeling light and bubbly from the alcohol. You grabbed her shoulders and pushed her over, an adorable squeal coming from her mouth. “Now it’s my turn.”

Her eyes were wide as you kissed your way down her body, over her breasts, licking over her peaked nipples as you went. You kissed down her stomach, goosebumps peppering her skin as you moved. When you were laying between her legs, you realized you didn’t exactly know what to do, but you were eager to try.

You took an experimental lick along her folds, tasting her slick on your tongue. Her pussy was already soaking wet from what you had done together, and she tasted like heaven. She moaned above you, hands tangling in the bedsheets. “Ohmygod, feels so good,” she said, which only encouraged you to do more.

You licked lightly over her clit, gauging her reaction. She arched her hips up, wanting to feel more of your mouth on her pussy. You obliged, sucking on her clit before licking between her folds. She tasted so sweet, nothing like you had expected pussy to taste, since most of the guys you’d been with had no desire to go down on girls. They were missing out.

You pushed two fingers into her hole, curling your fingers the way she had that felt so incredible. Robin tangled a hand in your hair with the other still in the sheets. “Good?” You asked her, and she nodded quickly.

“Yes, please please don’t stop,” she begged, body writhing beneath your movements. You didn’t dare stop, loving all the sounds you could pull from her as you devoured her just as she had done for you.

“I’m close,” she said, hand trembling in your hair, and you could tell she really was by the way she began to grind her hips up against your mouth, her moans becoming higher and more desperate sounding.

“Already?” You teased, before quickly wrapping your lips around her clit again. She let out a high “Oh!”

“You have no idea how turned on I was doing you first,” she admitted, her voice completely breathless. “Shit, I’m gonna cum, babe-“

You cut her off by sucking hard on her clit, and then she was practically screaming, calling your name over and over like a prayer, pulling on your hair and writhing beneath your mouth. You rode out her high, lapping up all of her wetness.

When you were done, you collapsed on the bed next to her again. You were both breathing heavily, in shock about what had just happened between you. You looked to the huge window at the side of the room, seeing the snow pouring down heavily.

“Wanna take a bath together?” You asked her, wiggling your eyebrows. You wanted to keep being close to her, didn’t want this to end and be a one time thing.

“That sounds amazing,” she said.

You ran a bubble bath for the both of you, sitting in the giant tub together. You explored each other’s bodies with your hands in the tub, kissing and laughing. That night you slept in bed together, cuddled close.

You were woken bright and early by the band director pounding on the door, and you groaned, your head aching from the alcohol the night before. The memories of what happened between you and Robin came flooding back, and you were suddenly terrified everything would be awkward now.

But Robin woke up with a smile on her face. “Hey, beautiful,” she greeted.

“Hey,” you said back, a nervous smile on your face. She reached over, grabbing your hand.

“I was thinking…” She began.

“Yeah?”

“Would you…want to be my girlfriend? Maybe?” She looked at you with hopeful eyes, and it made you feel warm in your chest.

“Yeah,” you said, squeezing her hand. “I’d like that.”

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