#robin buckley/reader
Note
I just saw this concept somewhere and immediately thought of robin, so imagine it's a summer day and robin is wearing a tank top, but that's not the important part, she's wearing one of thos candy necklaces and you just go and start eating it, while she's wearing it, might I add you're "just friends" (just friends my ass) and robin is literally dying for very obvious reasons
Bestie you are so right for this, I immediately jumped into this one. The sapphic panic would set in immediately for her.
-Tastes So Sweet
Robin Buckley x reader
It was a super hot week this summer, so you guys had decided to drive a few hours out for the weekend. Well, Robin had. Robin thought a little road trip, a weekend away at the beach, would be great for the two of you! A great place for her to finally buckle up and tell you how she feels. Even if she didn’t actually end up saying it... She knew you liked girls too, so it shouldn’t be that hard! Except it was!! Ugh!!! Robin swore it as a fact that the sapphic curse was real. She could never tell if any of the times she thought you were pretty ‘close’, or flirting, or doing things that surpass the boundaries of friendship, were just you being a nice friend or actually trying to flirt with her! Robin wondered if the same thing was happening on your end. Any awkward attempts at being slightly flirty from her, she knew weren’t exactly big power moves. Maybe you really didn’t know that she was into you? But if you hadn’t picked it up, how was she supposed to tell you! And why did she have to make the first move!?
It’d been a good plan, although when she asked you, as you came to visit her in Family Video like you did nearly every day, Robin had no idea Steve was right behind her too. If she had, she wouldn’t have said it! But Steve was in earshot, and as Robin turned around, she’d eagerly invited him too, for fear of him feeling left out. Which was stupid, because Steve knew, in extensive detail, that Robin had a crush on you, it would’ve been fine! But Robin didn’t really mind once she’d gotten over realising it wouldn’t be a strictly romantic getaway. A weekend away at the beach, with her two best friends, and absolutely zero monsters, or customers, was something she was really looking forward to the rest of the week! And she still loves Steve, she was happy he was coming, she just definitely did not love him in the same way she loved you... Well, at least Steve could drive, and had a car! Honestly Robin hadn’t even thought about that when she invited you. So it all looked like it was coming up Robin!
Robin had told Steve how she thought this was the perfect time and place to finally make a move on you. Steve asked if she was going to make ‘an actual move’ which was slightly annoying, if not very true. What’re friends for? But Steve definitely did not get a moments peace, without Robin raving about how great the weekend would be. Especially because of you.
Although he wasn’t complaining, it made him happy to see Robin so happy. He knew you felt the same, he was so sure. He just wished you two would get on with it! Even if Robin couldn’t exactly ask every babe who came into the store out, like Steve could, he still offered if she needed any of his ‘natural charm and allure’ to be graced with for the weekend, since she was seemingly born lacking. But that just got him with even more tapes stacked in his arms.
Although Steve did give Robin the great idea of making it a three day weekend. Since both of them were owed a shift swap with two other employees, after they both caught them calling in sick to work, only to try and break in after hours to bone in the stock room. You already had the Friday free, so Steve could drive you all that morning! Robin loved having a mom of the group, not that she was gonna take him for granted, but it at least gave her less things to worry about. She’d already had to borrow Steve’s deodorant towards the end of the day, after planning the trip now you’d thankfully said yes. He liked being in charge and on top of things! He at least swore that he’d be a good wingman. Even though he was always, he really wanted you two together. But this time, he’d push his best friend just a little, if she needed it.
But after he’d driven you all a few hours to the motel, Steve started complaining that he didn’t feel well. He still insisted he could carry some of the bags, while Robin grabbed an extra of yours, smiling with a raise of her shoulders. But as Steve collapsed onto his bed in the motel, he started saying he felt sick.
You both wanted to make sure he was okay, Robin checking his forehead as you looked in Steve’s bag for painkillers for his headache. Since Steve had been very meticulous with packing for the 3 day trip, even micromanaging to make sure you two brought essentials. Even though you both knew Steve would have spares for you.
You managed to find a bucket while you were getting Steve some water in the bathroom, bringing it to his bedside where he was curled up, before taking a step back, into Robin’s side, as you asked with the most sympathetic tone you could muster if he felt like he was gonna be sick. Robin grabbed your arm, rubbing it up and down, with your exposed skin since it was so hot outside, and you gave her a thankful look. She knew you hated vomit.
But Steve swore he was fine. Even as you and Robin rubbed his back, he said he was just gonna take a nap. Rest in for the rest of the day, and maybe he could join you two for dinner. But he encouraged you both to go out and have fun. At least it was a good thing you guys had three days.
Robin agreed with you to stay for an extra 15 minutes, just to see if the painkillers kicked in, which you both knew Steve would probably bluff about to stop you both from worrying, even if they didn’t. But as Steve curled up to his new blanket, his eyebrows scrunched up, either in a ‘bleh’ feeling, or simply being tired, Robin shook your wrist gently and asked if you wanted to head out.
Steve still managed to mumble yell about you both taking sunscreen, and you both chuckled as Robin stole some from his bag.
You both tucked him in, Robin fake cooing over the poor baby, as you both left with a sickly sweet “Bye Steve!” But gave him some pats before that, to let him know you meant it.
As you closed the motel door behind you, you both looked to each other and just giggled. Before you took Robin’s hand, and dragged her to the reception desk to go grab a map. Steve clearly must’ve been sick, if he’d forgotten to grab one of them.
Although, Robin didn’t actually know if Steve was faking or not. To let you two have the majority of the day together or something. To be fair, he looked like he really needed that nap either way. And you both would have had to leave him to the room if he napped anyway, since you were all sharing a room together, because it was cheaper. Steve got one bed, and you and Robin shared the other. A fact she was internally freaking at. She’d had sleepovers with you before, but nothing this intimate. Nothing like on this three day getaway. Even if you two were just nearly dozing off accidentally while watching a movie or something, Robin knew you got very cuddly when you were tired. So did she, but it still made her bashful.
You two had visited some of the local stores, before taking a long walk on the beach. Robin had laughed with you, talked about old memories, even shared gossip, but she hadn’t told you her feelings for you yet. To be honest she’d forgotten! Robin was too busy having fun with you, really enjoying her time. She’d forgotten she was supposed to be building up to asking you out by the end of the weekend.
It hadn’t really been that long a walk anyway, because you were desperately complaining of your need for food. So you’d both been trying to find an exit to the beach, that’d lead you back to civilisation. You were on your way to an ice cream stand Robin had spotted, near enough you could tell it sold ice cream by the small statue on top, but not nearly close enough to make out any words on it yet.
But you’d gotten tired, and asked Robin to sit with you for a few minutes. Robin had helped you sit down, worrying you and Steve were actually sick, but you’d just giggled when Robin held your elbow, gently leading you onto the sand at the top of the beach, easily sitting yourself down as you told her “You’re sweet.” Something that did not go over Robin’s head, while you rummaged to get her water bottle out her bag, that you two were sharing. Like usual, because of course you still forgot to pack water for a day out in the sun. Damn Steve for forgetting to mom them on that one, Robin thought.
As she watched you chug at her bottle, Robin was tempted to buy you a drink herself, to be your knight in shining armour that way. ...But, she also kinda liked the domesticity of you two sharing of bottle. Not even in an ‘ooh it’s an indirect kiss way’, although heck yeah she couldn’t help but think about it, it was just sweet to share like that, she thought.
“Ughhhhh. Robbbb, I’m hungry.” You whined, leaning on her chest dramatically. You were both in swimsuits, but with shorts, and low cut tops too. Meaning your head was nowhere near the top of her shirt, as you laid on her.
Robin laughed. “Well I told you, if we went down the boardwalk they had those cute little cafes! But nooo. You-“ Robin flicked her finger against your nose “wanted to go rockpooling first!” Robin couldn’t help but smile the entire time she talked with you. She could never actually be mad at you, she only ever teased you in jest.
You pouted, but your eyes were smiling back. “I only wanted to cause I know you’ve been waiting to all week.”
Robin’s ears started burning. She rubbed her hands on her exposed knees, trying to bite back a smile that’d be too wide. “Thank you.” It made a fire stir in Robins chest that you’d remembered she’d been wanting to do that since you guys planned the trip. She hadn’t been rockpooling since she was a kid, and she wanted to explore them again. Robin also wanted to come back to Hawkins with pockets full of neat rocks, although that was a separate mission.
“Well, the ice cream stand isn’t that far away. We can make it when your legs decide to start working again.” Robin promised, second guessing herself, but deciding to pat your shoulder anyway. It shouldn’t be weird, she’s done that a million times. She’s touched you way more that that! Yeah she was touching your naked shoulder and bikini strap only, since the strap of your flowy shirt had sunk a little... but really it wasn’t that weird, among friends right? You were both girls. You both had bra and bikini straps! Surely you wouldn’t think anything of it, that she touched them? She was just patting your shoulder! Although the whole point of this weekend was supposed to be that you thought about Robin’s actions more, that they were slightly risqué and that Robin actually makes a move!
You hummed, hungry. And then, you looked up a little bit, to see the cute new thing Robin had bought earlier. With a different type of hum this time, you reached up Robin’s chest, and played with her colourful candy accessory. “Your necklace is so pretty Robin.”
Now it was Robin’s whole face that was blushing. She just hoped you couldn’t feel the heat through her chest. “Thank you.” She responded, remembering how you’d tugged on it when Robin first came out of the seaside sweet shop, and how her legs nearly gave out with all the carnal thoughts that ran through her mind when you did that.
She’d also bought a pacifier lolly for poor Steve, and you’d bought a sweet in the shape of a spade. Which’d been all you’d eaten all day, with Steve ushering you to his car since you’d slept in.
Only a few seconds after she’d thanked you, Robin looked on in stupor, as you aimed forward, and chomped down on her. She felt the scrape of your teeth pulling at her necklace, and even more so, your lips, below her collarbone but just above her cleavage. And in a panic, Robin shoved her hand into her chest, blinking in shock as she tried to take in what’d just happened, and how the feeling of your mouth on her chest still lingered. “Errr, what’re you doing?”
You only looked at Robin like what you were doing was normal, and like she was being unreasonable. It was really confusing Robin’s already flustered thoughts.
“What? I told you I was hungry.” You reasoned, before a sigh that blew away a few strands of your cute hair gained Robin’s attention, but not more so than what you did next. “Pleeeeease? I’m dying here!” You collapsed dramtically into Robin’s lap.
Robin laughed, a little, as she tried to push down her feelings of you laying on her there. You’ve rested your head there before, of fucking course, you guys were good friends, but it was different right now. Especially as you wriggled around a little, cradling the side of Robin’s hips to do so, and you looked up at her, with those puppy eyes. “Please?” You begged again. And Robin was dying with you peering way up at her like that from below.
Robin was bowled over, and all she could do was watch, as you seemingly tested your limits, climbing up her gently, moving onto her lap, as you moved your mouth to another piece of her necklace. Robin held her breath as you, while keeping eye contact with her, slowly mouthed around a piece near her neck, picking at it. “-taste so sweet...” you mumbled against her skin, with the candy in your mouth. But Robin could not tell if you said ‘they’ or ‘she’ tastes so sweet... If Robin was pink before, now she was entirely red.
“Y-Yeah. Okay then.”
When you smiled against her chest like that, Robin felt like she could breathe again, even though it came out sharp through her closed off mouth.
She could see it moving your hair. Although she didn’t know that secretly, you actually thought her breath smelt really nice right now too.
You didn’t thank her out loud. Instead, you thanked her with a kiss to her cheek.
Robin didn’t know how she held down her squeal at that. She didn’t think she consciously stopped herself anyway. Maybe she was just too overwhelmed. But then you bent down again, scanning her neck, and her chest, something that made Robin feel like a piece of meat. And for the only time in her life, when being looked at that way... she liked it. She never knew she would like that look, but you looking at her in that way... fuck...
You placed your hands on either side of her ribs. Holding her gently. Like she was precious. And then one hand slipped down to cradle the curve of her waist, as you finally went at it. Eating the sweet candy.
Robin pressed her legs together. Squeezing them. She hoped you couldn’t tell, since you were still sitting in her lap. And she felt almost dirty for even feeling that way. But she couldn’t help it. Not when you were holding her like this... not when your breath, and lips, and teeth, and drool, and tongue were at her neck, and her chest. Thank god she picked the longer necklace. She had to squeeze her legs together or she thought she was going to burst. Excitement rushed through her body, making her feel even more sensitive than she already was.
You picked up one piece of candy delicately, and slowly, scooping it up with your tongue, against her skin. Robin thought she might actually faint. At least she could blame it on the sun. Not the way a moan nearly slipped out her lips though. That was something Robin was thinking real hard about. Biting her lips intently as she just stared down at you, almost pained with holding back.
As a sound left her neck like you were sucking on the skin there, as well as the pink treat, you peered up at Robin again. “Will you rub sun cream into me after this? On my back, and shoulders, all those nasty places I can’t reach.”
She didn’t mean nasty places like that, don’t be a freak Robin!!!
“Yeah...” Robin promised, although she had to swallow first. Holy shit!
Mentioning Robin touching you though, made her react, because now, Robin really felt the want to touch you. The idea had been planted in her mind and it would not move on. She raised her hand, with a shaky breath she was sure was moving your head, as your cheek was lightly resting against it, while she moved her ringed hand, and softly began stroking through your hair. Caressing your head, and your soft locks, as you kept at Robin’s upper torso.
You, sucking around Robin’s chest, as she nestles her hand over the back of your head, must’ve looked so intimate, Robin thought. Only to shake that thought away, finding it going to some very unchaste places. When in reality, Robin was happy just like this. With stroking your hair.
For a few peaceful seconds both of you were only looking out at the golden beach. Glancing with no thought, at the far off horizon, the sea line crashing into the shore.
Then you placed your hand on Robin’s thigh, and you leaned your chin against her actual chest. And all that tranquility was thrown out the window. Robin still stroked her hand through your hair, but she felt like she was about to explode now. Holy shit, how do you not realise what you do to her? How is it fair to have you like this, only for her to be too scared to tell you, and possibly never be able to actually have you in that official way? Robin desperately wants nothing more than to touch you right now, even though she is already touching you. She wants to kiss you! She thinks about it. Quite hard, as she watches your lips go, against her chest. She wants to touch your own thigh. Just to be able to place her hand on your leg, as you two sit together, and have it be just normal for you two! She wants to be able to hug you close as you lay against her like this, to be able to kiss your head, and for you to feel happy enough to snuggle into her chest, as she speaks softly to you. Loving words. To be able to swap positions, and have you hold her like she’s your everything... And your hand squeezes once more over her thigh as she feels slight dampness against her chest, and she’s set off into those instinctual and physical feelings again. She’s surprised you can’t hear her heartbeat hammering against her rib cage, as you’re laying against her.
Although maybe you can. Or maybe she’s just acting weird. Because that’s apparently why your chin is on her chest and your hand is holding her thigh more securely, as you look up at her with gentle eyes. “Is something wrong? Are you okay?”
You’re asking her so affectionately, and Robin can’t help but stare at your lips. They’re glistening, with the effort you’ve been putting in all this time. And Robin really wants to taste your lips. To taste just how sweet they are right now.
“Nope. Nothing’s wrong. I’m really good.” She promises, unsure how she sounds so cool. Probably from years of lying about her feelings. Something she hardly ever did with you, except for her primary one.
You seem to pick up on something though, because you shuffle more into a sitting position, much to Robin’s dismay, but you still stay on her lap, which she sees as a win. Circling her arms around your own lap, as she holds you.
“Well here, have some. I don’t wanna steal all of it.” You smiled, playing with Robin’s half eaten necklace, as you extended the invitation.
It also meant Robin had to pick up the necklace to eat some of it, instead of having you grazing lightly into her skin the entire time, but Robin didn’t really mind it. She ate a few beads of her treat, enjoying the sweet taste, and realising how you got so addicted into just zoning out and sucking- oh my god Robin stop thinking of that shit!- but another thought was swimming around the brain cell she’d managed to borrow from Steve now he was unconscious. One she was thinking about the entire time you both gnawed on the same piece of string, faces inches away. Until it finally just blurted out of her like word vomit, only half being able to come out as a flirty joke.
“Hey! Uhhh, you know! You know what- you know Lady and the Tramp? This, wel-uhmm, this kinda reminds me. Of that. Do you know?” Robin stammered over that statement/question.
You didn’t respond. Robin gulping, which you would’ve been able to hear from this distance. But instead, you sped up on the three beads that were in your way. And, with a nervous pace, and no thoughts, Robin ate the last one on her side. Only able to sit there and breathe, in anxious shock, until you finally made your way closer, and, after eating the final bead that was pressed against Robin’s lips, you kissed her.
Gently dipping yourself into her mouth, you took Robin’s lips into your own. And Robin’s nerves were quickly replaced by a love she’d needed for so long. Eyes slipping shut as she took in this moment fully, at what she’d been waiting and longing for, Robin quickly kissed you back. The kiss was nothing but even, and deep, and full of love.
She moved her lips against your own, the thick feeling of your lips making Robin feel full, as she moved from hanging onto your bottom lip, to brushing your top one. You tasted just like she dreamed. Robin kissed you back with the same paced ardour as you both moved around. The smallest kissing sound coming as you both barely moved your lips away, only escaping as you moved around. Robin takes your cheek in her hand, as she’s wanted to do for so long, the other picking up your hand that she finds even blind, to hold it. Rubbing it, feeling you, as your other hand goes to her neck. Your thumb rubs Robin’s jaw, and she sighs into your kiss. That sound, finally causing her lips to stutter. And she opens her eyes as you two only just pull your lips away.
Robin’s eyes brush up and down your face. Her hand shuffling to hold your cheek more, nervous but knowing you weren’t going to move away, wanting to hold you like she’d wanted for so long. You raised your held hand to Robin’s own cheek, caressing her warm skin as you kept her hand with your own, and watched as Robin’s eyes fluttered shut, leaning cravingly into your palm, eyes open as she searched yours. Finding that hooded and finally resolved look in them.
Robin always fantasised what her first words would be after she kissed you. But she should’ve known she’d never have been able to be that cool after. “I... I’ve wanted to... I mean, do you- do you feel the same way? I’ve wanted to do that for so long.” She asked, eyes crinkling with tears she dared herself not to come. She didn’t know if she could handle it if you didn’t feel the same way. Not after this. If she’d just thrown herself out there, only to get rejected now.
Only Robin was met with your hands cradling her face so lovingly, so... domestically, that she couldn’t help but sigh against your face. “Robin. I’ve been flirting with you since the day we met. Did you really not notice?”
Robin didn’t know whether to smile or cry. She was afraid she’d do both. Although she didn’t think the snot and sweat combination would do great for her second kiss. “But- I’ve been flirting with you too! I mean, well... I’ve been trying.” Robin’s head bowed down, her freckled cheeks heated. “I thought- I just thought you didn’t...”
“Robin, sweetheart.” You gently lifted her head up, and any shame Robin felt dissipated at hearing you call her that. Her blue eyes watery as she searched yours.
“I get it. I wasn’t sure too... But I could never not love you. I mean... how would that even be possible!” You cracked a smile, trying to make it big, although you felt your eyes stinging now too. Especially when Robin laughed, and a few tears finally spilled down her rosy cheeks. You just thought she looked so beautiful.
“Damn that sapphic curse.” Robin joked, wiping her tears with the back of her hand, only to feel her heart thud in shock when you suddenly leaned forward, and kissed that tear stain right off her cheek. Although she gussed she shouldn’t be shocked by it anymore. ...The thought made her smile even greater.
“Damn right. How could you think I’d want to be any less than your girlfriend? What a ridiculous thought. Glad we broke that damn curse.”
And this time, Robin wasn’t going to be caught rambling. She did the thing she’d planned to do this entire weekend, that she’d wanted to do the first time you walked into her store. She made that big definite move, as Robin pulled your cheeks close, and kissed you first.
#also wahoo my first (on her own) Robin post! been waiting for this day bwaha#let’s just say Steve’s going to have to be the one leaving the motel room for a little while on the rest of the trip ☺️#also is rockpooling a thing in the us? I tried to look it up legit could not find any good sources#Robin Buckley x reader#Robin Buckley fluff#Robin Buckley#fic#Robin Buckley fic#ask#anon#stranger things#Steve Harrington#platonic stobin#wingman Steve#bff Steve Harrington#4.4K#Robin Buckley/reader
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the fear is just an excuse
—day 3. hands // [kinktober masterlist]
Feelings bubble to the surface after a horror movie marathon with Robin, hands linked as you fail to fall asleep. You can pretend you're just scared, but you both know there's more to it than that.
pairing. robin buckley/f!reader
wc. 1.3k
tags. 18+ ONLY, best friends to lovers, first kiss, guided fingering, hand fixation, making out, teasing, taking it slow (relatively,) fluff
You couldn’t get your eyes off her hands. Couldn’t get your hands off them either. Every time you started rolling her rings over her knuckles, Robin barely gave you a sideways glance. You could recall the lines of her palms by memory, little tally marks of the life she’d lived, some creases deeper than others.
For a long while you thought this was something akin to twiddling your thumbs. Stimulation and closeness with your best friend, an extension of you just as much as you were an extension of her. If anyone had something to say, well, you were just keeping yourself busy, and playing with her hands was something to do.
Nevermind the way you held her hand during scary movies, the way she slipped her fingers around your bicep in that tense moment before the sting of music and drop of a knife. Over time this felt like branding, the closer you got to realizing your feelings, the longer her touch lingered on your skin.
Months pass like this before you both dive fully off the deep end.
The bedside lamp is still on, both of you holding onto some childhood fear of the dark, your coat rack turning into a violent intruder, every creak of your old house a step closer to your end. You spent the last several hours watching every B horror film you could get your hands on, underground copies hidden in the back of the video store, and movie theater rips of whatever was out now. The fear is at least justified tonight.
Your shoulder rests against hers in bed, a queen bed that gives you no excuse to be so close, except you were scared.
This is the excuse you use when you reach for her hand, the excuse she uses when she tangles her legs with yours, the excuse you both use when you turn to face each other, centimeters separating you.
It was scary. It was dark. What else could you do but curl into each other for protection?
Silently, you run her knuckles over your lips, the dim orange glow of the lamp shining off her freckled skin. She watches as you close your mouth around her thumb, a little shiver combing down her body and into yours. You can feel goosebumps on her legs, and she watches with intent while you drag your tongue down the length of her thumb.
She runs her slick thumb over your lips, tugging at the corner, tilting her forehead against yours, just shy of a kiss before she stops.
“I—is this a good idea?” She asks, a crack in her voice.
You nod, opening her palm to press a kiss against the sweaty skin, “It has to be, right?”
She stares at you, blinking several times before leaning the rest of the way in. Her hand flattens against the side of your face as she holds you in place, her lips shaking at the start. No matter the hesitance, this kiss lights you both up, almost magnetizing your bodies together. She slips an arm under your neck, you wrap yours around her torso.
The movements are slow as you progress, cotton pajamas folding between you, the hem of your shorts riding up as you slide a leg over her. She falls deeper and deeper into the kiss, her thumb prodding at the corner of your mouth, and as she breaks away to catch her breath, you suckle at the tip.
“Robin?” You ask, grabbing her hand to press kisses along each fingertip.
“Hm?” She says, her eyes fixed on your mouth.
“Do you, um,” You swallow hard, and focus on kissing her palm while you talk, nerves rattling your body, “Can I show you something? I promise if you don’t like it, we can stop and just go to sleep and forget this ever happened, okay?”
The arm under your neck comes up to your hair, petting the back of your head. Robin flicks her eyes down your blanketed silhouette and nods.
With the same caution and speed as every touch preceding this one, you guide Robin’s hand down your body, over your breasts, and the curve of your waist, stopping at the hemline of your shorts. Her breath catches, lips parting and eyes fluttering closed as you slip your hands under the waistband. You pause once more while staring at her, and, with her eyes still closed, she nods again.
Your hand cups over hers as she cups over you, and you feel the warm wash of slick just with the promise of her fingers against you. You slide her hand up, pushing her middle finger between your lips, the fingertip grazing over your clit. Just that touch is overwhelming, and you lean further into her, open mouths brushing together before you fall back into deep kisses.
Robin follows with your guidance, letting you control the way she touches you, her shivering hand growing steadier every time you moan into her mouth. The kisses are sloppy and arrhythmic, her tongue pressing into your mouth, desperation written in her entire body. You feel your lips swelling, certain they’ll be chapped tomorrow morning, all tingling and cold without hers. Her short nails graze up your back before flattening on the center of your spine, squeezing your bodies together best they can without stifling the circulation of your hands between your legs.
She’s breathless and wanting, and when she touches you of her own accord it’s like a crack of lightning on an already burning tree. She slides her fingers inside you, curling them up against your walls, her touches intuitive and confident.
You knot your now free hand into her hair, keeping her kissing you, the pump of her fingers inside you making it near impossible for you to kiss her back. She laughs against your mouth as you start to lose yourself, a pleasant giggle undercut with the rasp in her voice, and you shush her, though the sound is broken and stuttering.
“Wow, that good?” She teases, carrying a softness to her that kicks up butterflies in your stomach.
You weren’t sure you’d ever get her to look at you the way she’s looking at you now. Careful and loving and undercut with desire that manifests in her hands on you, in you. If tonight is the only time this happens, you could live the rest of your life on the memory.
When you close your eyelids, she leans forward and kisses them, her fingers slipping out of you, sliding back up to run over your clit. She needs no direction now, instead guiding you through the orgasm that cascades over you moments later. Your body quakes next to her, and you bury your face into her neck, melting over the feeling of her lips kissing anywhere she can reach. Focusing on your breathing, the orgasm stretches beyond what you’re familiar with, suspended in your chest as you breathe in, plunging into your stomach as you breathe out.
Robin keeps her rhythm even as your peak fades, your body cooling until her touch is just shy of too much. You wrap your fingers around her wrist and usher her back between your chests, holding hands in the tight space as your kisses lengthen, slow and lazy and still out of breath.
You trail a hand down her body, but she shakes her head.
“I think my brain needs to catch up with my body first. Is that okay?” She whispers, kissing your knuckles.
You nod and squeeze her hand, “Of course it is.”
Another kiss.
The room is no longer blanketed with fear, your bodies warm in the golden glow of the lamp, dim as it may be. You brush her hair out of her face, and kiss her cheekbone. Sleep comes easy in each other’s arms.
#robin buckley x reader#robin buckley x you#robin buckley/reader#robin buckley/you#robin buckley smut#my writing#mine#kinktober
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Halloween Party
Pairing: Robin Buckley/ Female Reader
Requested By: NA
Word Count: 3,064
Summary: You and Robin have been... Something for months now. But you weren't sure where you stood with her. Kisses and cuddles and movie nights were a constant, but what did they all mean? Will Steve's annual Halloween party be the night you finally get your answer?
Content Warning: Brief descriptions of drug and alcohol use.
Robin Buckley Masterlist
Stranger Things Masterlist
~~~~~
The house was lit up in orange and purple. A single green light bulb illuminated the front door. You could hear the loud music playing through the expensive stereo system as you opened your car door. Robin stepped out of the passenger seat, swinging her Batman cape dramatically behind her.
"Are you ready to party?" She asked, lowering her voice.
You threw your head back in a laugh as you walked to meet her in front of your car. "Are you gonna talk like that all night?" You asked her as you began to walk up the sidewalk to the front door.
"Yes," she answered in the same low tone. "Because I'm-" she stopped suddenly, pulling her cape up to hide the bottom half of her face. "Batman."
"You're certifiable," you giggled. Robin walked ahead of you, reaching the porch first. She reached one black gloved hand forward and pressed the doorbell. There was a few moments of silence before the heavy wooden door swung open.
"Evening, ladies!" Steve greeted you with a wide smile.
"Good evening, citizen," Robin answered.
"She gonna do this all night?" He asked, his attention turning to you. You didn't answer, simply sighing as you shrugged. Steve closed his eyes, taking a deep breath through his nose and shaking his head. "Fine. Come on in, Batman."
Robin grinned at you before entering behind Steve. You closed the door behind you, trying your best to mentally prepare for having to hear Robin's terrible Batman impression all night. Or, until her voice got tired. Whichever came first, you supposed.
You followed Steve into his kitchen where his girlfriend was leaned against the center island. Steve picked up the stereo remote from the counter, turning down the volume of the music.
"Hey, guys!" His girlfriend greeted loudly. She pulled Robin into a hug first before pulling your shoulders to her chest. "Batman, very nice," she commented. She turned her attention to you, her brows furrowing as she took in your outfit. "I'm sorry, but what is your costume?" She asked you finally.
You sighed, looking to Robin. You twisted your lips as you tried to hide the smile that was threatening to spread over your face. "I'm Robin." You finally answered, gesturing to yourself. You wore Robin's black sweater, a pair of suspenders over it and a pale yellow button up. Her jeans were cuffed to your ankles and a pair of beat up converse completed the look.
Robin dropped the Batman impression as she burst into a fit of laughter beside you. "Get it?" She asked, her nose wrinkling below the black mask that covered her eyes and hair as she clapped her hands in front of her chest. "Batman and Robin!"
Steve rolled his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest. "Absolutely ridiculous," he sighed.
"Oh, come on, it's funny!" Robin cried. "At least we match."
"I was not going to be a pirate," his girlfriend announced. She adjusted the pointed black hat on the crown of her head. "And I wanted to be spooky. It's Halloween!"
Steve wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her hip into his side. He leaned down to kiss her cheek. She smiled wide as she leaned into his lips. "Still a total babe, warts and all," he said, smiling into her cheek.
Robin gagged dramatically beside you. She turned to you, sticking her tongue out, pointing one finger into her mouth. "Keep it in your pants, Steven." She groaned.
A while later Eddie showed up with his date. Their costumes were less inspired than yours, which Robin pointed out immediately.
"Vampires?" She asked, rolling her eyes. "That's literally just your clothes."
"And she's wearing just your clothes, Buckley."
"But it's funny when she does it!"
Eddie rolled his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest. The chains on his jacket sleeve chimed softly as they moved against one another before being quieted by his chest. He twisted his lips in faux annoyance, trying to hide a smile.
"You girls," he started with a sigh. His curls were more wild than normal tonight, bouncing as he shook his head.
His date touched his shoulder, their fingers splaying over the sleeve of his jacket. "Stop whining," they cooed. "She's right. Their costumes are pretty good. I mean, Batman and Robin?" Their smile was soft as they defended you to him. You watched with delight as his scowl softened and a real Eddie Munson smile took its place.
He rolled his eyes once more as he uncrossed his arms, draping one over their shoulders. "Shut up," he sighed. "Our costumes are awesome." The pair shared a look. It was soft, sweet and full of affection.
More people began to trickle into the party slowly. Jonathan and Argyle, accompanied by a few people you didn't recognize. Nancy and some guy she'd met at school, who for some reason agreed to come back to Hawkins for her highschool boyfriend's Halloween party. Even a few of Eddie's Hellfire friends showed up, neither one in costume.
The music was turned up and bottles of alcohol were opened in the kitchen. Plastic caps of all colors littered the countertops as drinks were poured into black and orange cups. Smoke from cigarettes and joints alike clung to the ceilings as they were lit up and passed around to party goers.
Robin held an orange cup in her when she found you. You had been camped out along the wall for most of the party. A few of your friends had come over to you, offering drinks and smokes and conversation before making polite exits with promises of being right back. They didn't come right back, and that was fine. You had fun watching everyone from your little vantage point at the edge of the party.
"Hello, beautiful," Robin croaked in a fading Batman voice. She pushed her cup towards you and you accepted it without comment. The contents of her drink burned as you swallowed. It was most definitely a Nancy Wheeler concoction. 80% booze with a splash of mixer.
"Havin' fun?" She asked in her normal voice, her tone just a bit raspier than normal. You suspected keeping up the Batman impression sporadically over the last two hours was taking its toll.
"'Course I am," you answered with a smile. Robin returned your smile as she leaned against the wall beside you. Her head tilted down to meet your shoulder gently. "Are you?" You asked only loud enough to be heard over the music.
"Oh, yeah" she giggled. "Think I need to slow down on these, though. Getting a little too drink too fast."
"Happens to the best of us," you omitted the 'babe' that you wanted to tack on to the end of the sentence. The beat of silence that the single syllable should have filled hung between you. You wondered if Robin noticed.
Things with you and Robin were good. Great, even. But they were confusing. Muddled and unclear. You'd been… something for a few months now. But you didn't know what.
It started at the end of summer. Right around the time that the August sun was its highest as it hung over Hawkins. When the sweltering heat had drawn almost everyone you knew to this very house and the large in ground pool that sat in the backyard.
Robin's touches would linger just a little longer than absolutely necessary when you asked for her help applying sunblock to your back. Her gaze was a little slower as she raked her blue eyes over your new swimsuit the day you debuted it to your friends. She'd rest her hand a little too high on your exposed thigh when she'd laugh at your, admittedly, not that funny jokes.
The changes were subtle. Slow and easy to ignore if you'd wanted. But you didn't. You played into them. You shimmied your shoulders against her lotion covered palms. Bent just slightly towards her to give your cleavage a better angle while towel drying your legs after a swim. Rested your hand over hers when it would land on your leg, dangerously close to something that could be considered indecent in front of the kids.
The first few weeks were intense. There was no other way to describe it. The first time she'd kissed you was at Steve's house, in the small shed that held the pool supplies. You'd been sent on an errand to retrieve a floating ring for Nancy. Robin followed you, claiming to need one of the spare towels that was stored in the shed. You handed her a towel, but instead of accepting it she'd kissed you. Her lips were hesitant as they pressed to yours, surrounded by floaties and pool chemicals in a shed that smelled like chlorine and summer.
After that night it was like the floodgates of Robin's affections were opened. You'd go on dates every week. Grabbing burgers at a local diner, or holding hands in the dark of a movie theater. The kisses shared in your car or bedroom grew sweeter and more familiar. Robin kept her hands on you as much as possible. Touching the small of your back as she passed behind you. Your arms linked as you walked downtown. Her hands on your waist as she kissed you against your closed door. It was exciting. It was earthmoving. It was perfect.
But it was also confusing. And at times frustrating. The two of you would do all the normal "couple" things. The kisses and the touches and the phone calls that lasted late into the night, neither of you wanting to be the one to hang up. But you weren't a couple. You didn't think so, at least. Neither of you had actually said the word "date" in regards to your weekly outings. Neither of you would put a label on what was happening. At first that was fine. But as the weeks turned to months and the seasons began to change, the unsureness of it all started to pull at you.
But tonight was not the time to have the conversation you knew you would have to have sooner or later. Tonight was about fun. About gathering with your friends and watching them be stupid together as the discount booze clouded their brains. You allowed Robin to pull you to the center of the living room. She placed one hand on your hip, the other dangling over your shoulder as she moved to the music. She kissed you as the song ended. Her hand on your hip pulled you closer to her. She tasted like chapstick and rum.
You stayed in the middle of the dimly lit living room for a few more songs before Robin announced that she needed a drink. "This costume is, like, ungodly warm," she said with a smile. She leaned into you once more. Her hand that had been over your shoulder moved to your neck. Her long fingers wrapped around the neck of your neck as she pulled into another soft kiss before stepping away towards the kitchen.
You took your previous spot on the wall once more. A few moments later you were joined by Arglye dressed as Cheech Marin from Up In Smoke. He snapped his red suspenders against his chest as he walked up to you.
"Heeyyyy," he greeted with a giggle. "Suspender buddies!"
You pulled your own suspenders from beneath your yellow button up. You stretched them in front you a few times before letting them fall gently back into place. "Where's Chong?" You asked, leaning closer to him.
"Who knows, man," he smiled. "Probably trying to get someone to listen to him explain fuckin' Vonnegut or something. Kid gets real existential on this stuff," he finished, lifting the lit joint in his hand.
"Thanks for the warning," you laughed.
He held his hand out to you, offering a hit of the joint. You politely declined, shaking your head and wrinkling your nose. Alcohol was one thing, but you never partook in the drugs. Not that you were a prude or anything, but being high wasn't fun for you. You much preferred to be the sober one watching everyone else get messed up. He accepted your refusal and brought the joint to his own lips before sucking in a long, deep drag. You had to admit that you were almost impressed by his lung capacity. He smiled at you once more before leaving you alone on the wall, a cloud of smoke following him.
You watched the party for a bit longer. It seemed as though Jonathan has been successful in finding someone who would listen to him wax poetic about the genius and intricacies of Vonnegut, sitting beside a guy you didn't recognize on the couch and looking very intent as he spoke. Steve and his girlfriend were being great hosts. They walked around both separately and together, greeting their guests and making sure everyone felt good and was having fun. It was when they walked hand in hand into the kitchen that you realized it had been a while since Robin left you in the living room in favor of getting another drink. You pushed off from your spot on the wall and walked the perimeter of the living room towards the kitchen.
When you got closer you saw Robin standing with Nancy and her boyfriend. He leaned back against the counter, his arms crossed over his chest and a smug half smile on his face. Robin looked annoyed as she spoke to him. Her eyes were wide as she moved her hands between them, slowly taking steps around him.
As you got closer you saw more of the room and its occupants. Robin, Nancy, and her boyfriend were at the sink. You saw that Eddie was standing with Steve and his girlfriend at the kitchen table in the middle of the room. Eddie was pouring vodka into a black plastic cup, smiling at something as you crossed the threshold into the room.
"- jealous that my girlfriend and I have better costumes than you, it's okay to admit." Robin finished whatever she was saying loudly, her back now facing you. Nancy's eyes widened, her glance going quickly between your face and Robin's.
Robin turned to you and you swear you could actually see the color drain from her face. The Batman mask had been ditched long ago so you were able to clearly see her face go ghostly pale when her eyes met yours.
"What?" Steve all but yelled from his spot near the table. "I'm sorry, Rob, girl-" his girlfriend smacked his arm, effectively stopping what was sure to be a word vomit of epic proportions. His eyes were so wide that his brows were completely hidden by his bangs.
"I- I uh-" Robin stammered, her hands waving between your bodies. It suddenly felt like every noise in the house was silent. Every other person dropped away. All you could focus on was Robin's eyes and the way her body was so rigid beneath the black cotton of her costume.
Without thinking you reached forward and took one of her waving hands in yours. She froze at your touch, for the first time since you met her she was completely still. You turned and started walking towards the back door as she trailed behind you. It felt like you were operating on autopilot as you led her through the living room, down a hallway, and out the back door. The air was chilly as an October breeze swept over you.
"Listen, I'm sorry, I-" Robin started stammering again as she pulled the glass door closed behind her. "I don't know why I said that. Please don't be mad at me, it's just you're so cool and you're so pretty and we have a lot of fun together and I just-"
"Girlfriend, huh?" You asked, stopping her rambling as you turned to face her. You tried to hide a smile but you knew that you were failing at it.
Robin's face relaxed as she scanned your expression. She looked away from you, suddenly shy. Her eyes darted around Steve's yard. The trees that lined the perimeter, the large pool in the center. The shed that held pool floaties and chemicals, but most importantly - your first kiss. Her grin curled high on her cheeks, her nose wrinkling as she showed all of her perfect teeth.
"I guess - I mean, I don't know," she answered. She finally looked back at you. Her eyes were so bright beneath the dim yellow of the porch light. "If you wanted to be my girlfriend, I guess I'd let you."
"Oh, you'd let me?" You asked, taking a step closer to her.
"I suppose that I might, maybe, potentially… want to be your girlfriend, too." She took one step closer to you, nearly closing the space between your bodies.
"Maybe? Potentially?" You asked with a smile. Your hands found their usual spot on her hips.
"Definitely," she corrected herself as her arms came to rest on your shoulders. "I definitely want to be your girlfriend."
You pulled her closer to you, completely closing the gap between your bodies. She grinned as her hips met yours. Her arms wrapped around your neck in a hug you hoped you'd never have to leave. This time when she kissed you, it was like a new world was opening up for you. You weren't just kidding your friend Robin. You were kissing your girlfriend. A word you never thought you'd say out loud.
"Then I guess I'm your girlfriend," you whispered when she broke the kiss. Your lips brushed against hers as you spoke.
Suddenly the glass door was sliding open. Eddie, Steve, and Nancy were standing in the doorway. Of course they'd been watching. Eddie howled like a dog, fist pumping in what you could only assume was his attempt at mimicking Arsenio.
"So, are two, like, official now?" Steve asked, stepping through the door. You smiled at Robin as you both nodded. He threw his head back dramatically and put his hands up to the sky. "Fucking finally! I don't know how much longer I could have sat here and listened to Robin whine and moan about not knowing what you were." Robin didn't answer, simply flipping him off before pulling into another perfect kiss.
~~~~~
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Congrats with the 1k followers! 🥳 Don’t know if anyone asked yet, but I’d love to ask for Mistletoe with Robin.
Hi buddy, thank you!! <3 <3 She was the one I was most excited to write this prompt for so I got a little carried away! Giggly awkward Robin is my FAVORITE.
Robin's mistletoe kiss, w/c: 1k
Join the Christmas Party!
“What’s with you? You’re acting weird.”
You glare across the drink table at Steve’s comment, but don’t argue. He has a point. You’re not usually like this at parties, distant, hovering around the kitchen and doing little more than sipping your drink and observing. Usually, you’re more social, flitting from room to room and saying hi to all the friends and acquaintances you can find, fueled by the false confidence that cheap beer provides.
But that’s because she isn’t usually at these things.
Robin Buckley. Your neighbor Steve’s best friend and the reason you’ve been avoiding the rest of the party. She just makes you nervous. With her wrinkle-nosed smile and melodious laugh, the way her eyes always managed to find yours during band rehearsal and the cute blush that followed when you caught her looking. She’s stupid. And she’s mentioned before that she hates big parties so you’re not at all used to seeing her in this setting.
“Oh, I get it,” Steve says, hiding a smirk behind the rim of his bright red plastic cup. “You’re avoiding Robin.”
“No!” You say, too fast, too loud.
“You know, you don’t have anything to worry about.” He sighs. He’s a good guy, he doesn’t want to out his best friend, but if he has to keep track of one more awkward lesbian he’s going to lose his mind so he’s trying to move things along for both of your sakes. “She’s not scary. Neither of you are, you just need to–” He throws his hands up in defeat when you cut him off with a fixed stare.
“Fine, I’ll go mingle, but only because Eddie looks miserable all alone over there.”
You pour another drink and kick away from the counter, if only to shut your friend up, and make your way to the living room to chat with Eddie for a bit. From your new spot on the couch, you can feel eyes on the back of your head, the warm, tingling feeling of being watched. Peering over your shoulder, you catch Robin at the window, talking to Nancy Wheeler and suddenly staring very intensely at her shoes as she takes a sip of her wine cooler. Your cheeks heat, but you force yourself to turn back to the conversation at hand. She was probably staring at Eddie, anyway.
Later, when you’ve made your rounds and visited with (almost) everyone, you circle back to the empty kitchen for another drink. The white noise of a successful party is quieter here, but you can still hear the cheek in Steve’s voice when he yells, “I think I left it in the kitchen! Robin, could you look?”
Oh god.
She’s grumbling about his lack of self sufficiency when she crosses the threshold, but as soon as she looks up from her glare at the floor, she brightens.
“Hi,” she breathes, knocking her fists together awkwardly.
You’re just as awkward back, chewing on your lower lip and leaning back against the counter, “hey.”
Maybe it’s the red Christmas lights hanging from the kitchen cabinets casting a rosy glow on her face, but you swear she’s blushing.
“Did Steve leave a record in here?” She asks, looking around the room with a pinch between her brows. “He’s insisting on playing Blue Christmas like, right now.”
“I haven’t seen it, sorry,” you laugh nervously, then gesturing to the array of bottles on the table, “but maybe a drink will help you avoid him longer? I've been told I make a mean cocktail.” You’re not sure where that came from, but the bright smile that breaks out on her face is worth it.
She rounds the table and nods, ready to accept your offer, but before she can speak Steve’s voice rings out from the doorway.
“I think maybe I left it on the, uh, ceiling.” He says, which prompts both of you to shoot him a confused look. Behind him, Nancy is rolling her eyes but still watching expectantly. “Try looking…up.”
Despite his lame attempt, you fall for it, and glance upwards to see that in your time mingling, he’s haphazardly hung a sprig of mistletoe from the ceiling fan. The hitch in Robin’s breath is audible, but you’re no better.
“Steve this is–” you protest, but get cut off.
“It’s the law of Christmas!” Robin blurts, a little too loud and with the hint of a shake in her voice. She clears her throat and tries to force an air of nonchalance, “you know, you can’t… you can’t leave unless you kiss, right? Like the mistletoe traps you, or something?”
Your heart slams in your chest, fingers twitching where your hands dangle loose at your sides. “Y-yeah, okay.” Quickly, you dart your gaze to Steve in the doorway, suddenly hyper aware of your audience, but he just shoots you two thumbs up and he and Nancy dart away (thankfully). When you turn back to Robin, she’s minutely closer, stepping toward you expectantly but still buzzing with nervous energy. Your cheeks hurt from the force of your smile when you mumble, “c’mere, then.”
Neither of you know what to do with your hands. It’s supposed to be quick, a peck to appease Steve the Christmas Gods or whatever, but as soon as your lips touch it’s all over. All the denial and every claim that Robin couldn’t be into you because she must be straight go out the window.
It’s like static between you. A fizzle and a pop! against your skin where your lips meet, warmth flooding your cheeks, and you’re drawn to her. A small squeak of surprise escapes her throat and has you smiling into the kiss, unable to resist touching her now. You bring your hands to her cheeks, holding on for dear life as if she were going to disappear if you didn’t, and much to your delight, hers wind around your waist to keep you in place.
You both giggle as you pull away, chapped lips sticking together slightly, and you rest your forehead on hers.
“I knew that idiot was up to something,” she sighs, shaking her head, jostling yours where your foreheads connect and forcing another laugh from you.
“I’m glad he was.”
“Mmh,” she hums her confirmation and hugs tighter around your middle. “Me too.”
#1k celebration blurb#robin drabble#robin buckley/reader#robin buckley x you#robin buckley x reader#robin buckley/you#stranger things imagine#stranger things x reader#stranger things reader insert
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Make Her Happy
Summary: Robin has become an almost constant presence in your apartment, which isn’t a problem until you realize you’ve got a little crush. When you explain why you’re acting weird to Steve, your boyfriend, he decides to take things into his own hands. Steve/Reader and Reader/Robin.
Word count: 7.2k
Content: Mostly smut with perhaps a hint of angst?, F/F and F/M, threesome scene, female receiving head and fingering, penetrative sex, bisexual/pansexual/queer female reader, drinking.
A/N: Robin and Steve are not sexually involved with each other. I kind of struggled with how to set this scene up so that it was very clear that Robin and Steve are 10000% not interested in each other but also like Reader gets to f*ck both of them because like. Jesus h christ they are both just so pretty. Frankly I think this…kind of hints at some queer polyamory for the female reader but ya know what. Thats what i would like to see and this is my world babes. Idk this might lead to more polycule-esque fics with nights with Robin interrupted by Steve and vice versa. Also special thanks to @thatsonezesty13 who requested bi!Reader <3
You weren’t sure when it had happened. It had been slow, gradual. Robin had always spent a lot of time at your’s and Steve’s apartment, usually bringing a VHS she wanted to watch or funny stories about the people she had talked to at work that day. One night, she had come over late, letting herself into your apartment with her spare key and a paper bag full of cheap tacos, interrupting you and Steve on the couch. When you had looked up from between his arms at her, haloed in the doorway by the glow of the hallway lights, you had blamed the adrenaline from Steve’s hands for the nervous twinge in your chest. Another time, Robin had been sitting on the floor, leaning back against your legs while you ran your fingers through her hair and she bemoaned the tragic state of the lesbian dating scene in Indiana, and when she had turned to look at you with little pieces of her hair askew from your hands all you could think was beautiful, she’s so beautiful. Now, you were basically trying to avoid her: an impossible feat considering how often she was in your apartment (she really practically lived there, as often as she had started staying the night, crashing on your couch and insisting on Steve making pancakes most mornings).
Steve had noticed. You really didn’t want him to notice, but he was so good with people and he always picked up on the smallest things and, as he had pointed out last week, he’d have to be stupid not to notice when his two best girls were acting weird. You had tried to explain that you weren’t being weird–you just, maybe, needed some space from Robin. He had offered to kick her out, saying he’d make her stay at her own place for a few nights, and you had said no. You held his hand, chewed on your lip, and told him you liked having Robin around. When his eyes had narrowed in confusion, you had put his hand in your lap, leaning against Steve’s broad chest, and quietly–very quietly–informed him that you just had…a little “girl crush,” as you called it. It was nothing; you had had a few of them before, but you still loved Steve more than anything in the world. For you, Robin was kind of like if Phoebe Cates walked into the Family Video store one day and told Steve she wanted to hang out with him. Obviously, you knew he would still be attracted to her–how many times had he watched Fast Times now?--but, at the end of the day, you assumed he would still come home to you, even if it meant bringing Phoebe with him. Steve had looked down at you, understanding dawning over his face, and asked “She’s your Phoebe Cates? I mean–Phoebe Cates?” You had just laughed, explaining that you had meant it more metaphorical than literal as he rubbed broad, warm circles into your back. A few mornings later, after Robin had walked out your front door with a leftover chocolate chip pancake in hand, Steve had wrapped his hands around your hips and pulled you tight into his chest, nipping playfully at your neck before he pulled back to look at you. “So,” he had asked, his face completely neutral, “You like me and girls? Or you like guys and girls, and me and Robin are the ones you like of those?” You had half laughed, interlocking your fingers around his neck. “I just like who I like, Steve,” you had said. “When I find someone attractive…I don’t know, I just don’t really think about if they’re a boy or a girl.” Steve had nodded, his uncombed morning hair flopping low over his forehead as he bent his neck to press a kiss to your cheek. “As long as you still like me,” he had said, pulling back with a playful grin.
Robin had come over again tonight–not that that was a surprise–and you had moved to the other side of the couch than where you usually sat, making Steve sit on her usual end so she’d put all of her weight on him instead of you. For good measure, you drew your legs up beside you, curling them against your body as you leaned into Steve’s chest. He wrapped an arm around you, planting a kiss on the top of your head, then reached down to ruffle Robin’s hair. Something about the moment made you feel like you were in some sort of sitcom, but when Robin turned around to grin at you over her shoulder you couldn’t help the way your breath hitched. Steve’s arm tightened around you at the slight change, and you looked up to see him looking at Robin with the light of an idea behind his eyes. “Robin,” he asked, tentatively. “How’d your date last weekend go?” Robin groaned theatrically, throwing her head back against Steve’s legs. “Oh my god,” she said, “Don’t even ask me about that again. I am so tired of the women in this town. They’re all either terrible and, frankly, kind of stupid, with, like, no real taste, you know, I mean the movie she wanted to see? God, it was so bad, but they’re all like her–or straight, I guess,” Robin said, turning to look at you with a grin. “See, you’re lucky Harrington. Life’s easy for you. You just asked out the prettiest girl you could find and it turned out she was incredible and smart and sexy, too.” You blush, the heat snaking over your face, at Robin’s words. Steve just nodded, looking like he had just snapped two puzzle pieces together.
“You know what we should do tonight?” Steve asked. “Eat junk and watch TV?” Robin asked, an eyebrow cocked. She already had a half empty package of marshmallows next to her on the floor, something you and Steve kept stocked in the pantry almost exclusively for her. “We should drink,” Steve said, standing up suddenly. You fell back on to the couch, and peered up at him, confused. Steve just looked between you and Robin, his hands on his hips, and said, “Yeah. Drinks,” before disappearing into the kitchen. “I am not drinking too much tonight, Harrington,” Robin called after him. He came back in with a six pack, setting it down next to Robin as she grimaced. “Beer, Harrington? What is this, a frat party?” “Shut up, it’s what we’ve got–unless you feel like walking to the liquor store.” Robin grimaced but pulled one of the brown bottles out of the cardboard case, taking the bottle opener Steve handed her and popping the top. Without even looking at you, she passed the slightly hissing bottle over as you sat up, pulling a second one out for herself. You took a long pull from the cool glass, the taste of hops smooth over your throat as you looked at Steve, one eyebrow raised. He shrugged, smiling, and mouthed “trust me.” Blinking quickly, you looked away, and noted Robin watching the exchange between the two of you. “Everything…okay?” She asked, her voice rasping. “Never better,” Steve answered, chipper, as he took his seat back between the two of you.
“Is there a reason you’ve got me drinking tonight, Harrington?” You asked. You didn’t usually refer to Steve by his last name–except when you put Mr. in front of it–but anytime you were around Robin, it just came out. He looked over at you, grinning, and cocked his head to the side. “I just thought my two best girls might benefit from loosening up a little,” he said, all charm as Robin snorted. “What?” He said, bumping her with his leg. “As if you’re anything other than uptight.” “I am not uptight,” Robin answered, “I am a reasonable amount of tight.” She blushed at her own word choice, then rolled her eyes, turning back to face the TV as she muttered “shut up” before Steve said anything. Steve looked at you, watching the taut skin of your neck shift as you took a deep pull from your bottle, swallowing it down. He kept his eyes flicking between you and the TV screen for the next twenty minutes, only half-heartedly watching the cheesy sitcom Robin had turned on as soon as she had come in the door. That’s how it went with Robin: walk into a room, find a friend, and turn off whatever part of her brain held her back from giving into her impulses. She had changed the TV channel while you were watching something on more than one occasion, had even walked into your home and started cooking dinner with the groceries in your fridge, but nothing topped the time she had walked into a party at one of Steve’s old friend’s house, seen a guy feeling up a girl who was passed out on the couch, and immediately lifted her booted foot up, kicked him–hard–directly in the shoulder and yanked him off the girl. The three of you had been thrown out of the party not five minutes after arriving–taking Robin’s rescue back to the front yard with you where you found someone the bleary eyed girl recognized.
Robin’s eyes were glued to the screen, apparently unaware of the looks you were giving Steve behind her back. You had fallen back against your side of the couch instead of curling against him, suspicious of what had driven his sudden interest in drinking an entire six pack that would usually last him a week over the course of one night. Steve was adamantly avoiding your gaze, though he did occasionally turn his head to you. He seemed to be examining the bottle in your hand, and when his eyes happened to meet yours he would only pause long enough to widen his eyes, or turn up the corner of his mouth, or once–as you got close to finishing your beer–wink at you. Finally, you took one last swallow from your drink, upending the bottle into your mouth with your head tilted back against the arm of the couch as you drained the last drop. When you straightened your neck, Steve was turned to you, fully grinning now, and he reached out one of his long-fingered hands to snag the room-temperature brown glass out of your hands. Your eyebrows slid down, furrowing over your eyes as you watched him. You couldn’t be sure but, in the glow from the TV, it looked like he had only had maybe half of his own drink; you looked at Steve, your earlier interest in his actions starting to form a knot in your stomach as you pulled the corner of your bottom lip in between your teeth. The TV suddenly played out the sharp notes of the closing theme for Robin’s show, and she set her own empty glass bottle on the floor next to her before pulling another out of the pack. She turned around, glancing at you before turning to Steve. You could almost swear you saw the slightest shade of pink cross under her freckles when she saw you already looking at her, but the light in the room was so dim you couldn’t be sure. “What’s the plan, Harrington?” Robin asked. “Should I open another?” Steve nods, and asks her to hand you one as well. When she does, your fingers brush and you swear Robin pulls her fingers back just a second too fast, almost letting the bottle drop.
“Let’s do something fun,” Steve says, looking at you. The knot in your stomach constricts and you’re sure that whatever he’s about to spring on you is what he’s been working up to all night. “What would be fun for you right now, Steve?” You ask. You’re on high alert–but you’re also fascinated. Steve’s never done something like this before, keeping something from you (though he’s not doing a particularly good job of hiding whatever it is), and you’re anxious to see what, exactly, has motivated this within him. “I want to play a game,” he says. He stands up suddenly, reaching out for your hand and, when you put your fingers in his, he yanks you to your feet. “Sit,” he says, and you sink to the floor next to Robin. He sits down on the chill ground as well, crossing his denim-clad legs as he settles across from the two of you. Reaching out, he grabs you by the hips and slides you, just barely, to move you between him and Robin, making a clear triangle between the three of you. He reaches over to Robin, grabbing her empty beer bottle from beside her and placing it in the middle of the three of you. “Spin the bottle!” He exclaims, gesturing widely with his outstretched palms. “Gross, Harrington,” Robin says, taking another pull from her bottle. “I don’t want to kiss you.” “Oh, get over yourself, Buckley,” Steve groans, rolling his eyes. “I need something harder than beer to be willing to kiss you.” “The only point to this game, then, is for you and your girlfriend to kiss, and I’m sure the two of you do plenty of that, unless you want–” Robin goes silent, cutting herself off in the middle of her sentence. Steve’s eyes flicker towards you and Robin’s faces in turns. The flush is slower in it’s creeping over your skin as a result of the alcohol, but it’s definitely still under there. It builds, burning brighter as you say in feigned casualness, “It might be fun.”
Robin swallows, her throat bobbing with the pressure of her forcing her obvious nerves down. “Do you…want to play, Robin?” You ask quietly. She looks at Steve, and his eyebrows lift slightly. “Yeah,” she says, her voice hushed. “As long as I don’t have to kiss Harrington, I want to play.” Steve smiles, reaching out his long, pale hand for the bottle. The sound of glass spinning over the floor is entrancing, and the three of you fall silent to listen to it echo in the stillness. When it lands on Robin, she groans loudly. “See, I knew it, oh, don’t you dare, Harrington–” Robin growls as Steve moves towards her. “Hold on, just be still for, like, one second, you little–” Steve presses a quick, chaste kiss to Robin’s cheek and she yowls like a stray cat fighting for dumpster scraps as she wipes her wrist over her cheek dramatically. “That’s it! That’s it, I swear!” Steve protests, sitting back with his hands up in a gesture of peace. “Disgusting,” Robin mutters. “Yeah, well, mutual,” Steve says, and his eyes betray that he’s on the verge of a laugh–likely at Robin’s dramatic reaction. The kiss had been like something shared on Christmas days and, frankly, you had seen Steve kiss Robin’s forehead with more passion last year on New Year’s Eve. Your own lips were right on the edge of a grin, actually; Robin and Steve, together, always brought out a sense of family that just felt joyful to you. “Anyway,” Steve says, “You get to spin now.” Robin sniffs, rolling her eyes in return, and her hand reaches for the bottle. You’ve never noticed before how smooth her hands are, how soft the skin looks. The polish over her clipped nails is chipping slightly, and you can see what you think must be a small scar on one of her knuckles. When the bottle stops spinning, pointing at Steve, you burst into giggles, drunk on either the alcohol of the budding euphoria in your stomach.
“See,” Robin says, “I knew I shouldn’t have agreed to play your stupid little kid game, Harrington!” “Yeah,” Steve replies, pushing his fingers up through his hair, “That doesn’t count. Spin again.” Robin looks at you, quickly, then spins the bottle. She’s spun it harder this time, and it seems like the three of you are waiting forever for the glass to stop grinding gently over your floors. When it does come to a stop, pointing vaguely in your direction, the two of you look at each other. “What do you think?” She asks. “Is it close enough?” “Close enough,” you say, and you use your hands to shift your weight forward, coming closer to her on all fours. When you can touch her, you duck your head slightly, pressing your lips to hers gently. Her lips are smooth and they feel damp, like she’s applied her favorite chapstick before coming over. You start to pull back–worried you’re going to make her uncomfortable–when she finally leans into the kiss as well, using one of her hands to cradle the back of your neck and hold your mouth to hers. When her hand loosens, you pull back and look at her. This close, you can tell that there is a definite blush spreading over her cheeks, and her eyes seem wider than usual. Her lips are rosy, the delicate cupid’s bow seeming almost to quiver as she breathes quickly through the small gap between her top and lower lip. Almost in unison, the two of you turn to look at Steve. His pupils are wide, his eyes darker, and he’s got a faint blush running up his own neck. You start to sit back, immediately prepared to apologize, when you notice the slight bulge in his jeans. “Steve,” you whisper, your head tilting slightly. “Are you enjoying yourself, babygirl?” He asks. You turn, looking back at Robin, who’s blush darkens, and nod. “I want to see you happy,” Steve says from behind you, and you look at Robin’s eyes. She’s watching your mouth, her pupils dilated when she makes eye contact with you.
“Robin?” You whisper. She blinks quickly, her long lashes blowing her eyes clear. “Is this okay?” You ask her. Her face is still only inches from yours, the heat radiating off her body beating against your face like a warm summer breeze across your skin. Robin’s lower lip disappears into her mouth, gnawing it between her teeth like she does when she knows she’s said something really stupid, and she turns to look at Steve. You hear his smooth voice across the silence of your living room: “It’s okay with me.” Without ever answering your question, Robin wraps her delicate fingers around the nape of your neck, pulling your face to hers as she pushes her lips against yours fiercely. The electricity between the two of you is instant, is chemical–maybe pushed to the surface by the beer, which you can taste in Robin’s mouth as her lips open and her tongue slides over yours. You tilt your head, pressing your nose into her face as you kiss her aggressively–there’s a delicate balance to kissing Robin, one that’s wholly different from your experiences with Steve. She feels gentle, almost timid under your fingers as they slide over her throat, pinching slightly as you desperately try to find a place to hold her. Robin’s movements are quick, rapid in their lightness, like she knows you’ll pull back soon. You push your weight into her; she leans back, slightly, as you use your body to press her against the couch. You sit back, suddenly, and she freezes. For a second, you just look at her: the dim lights in your apartment are glowing against her collarbone, her cheekbones, and her eyelids are drooping hazily. Her mouth is still puckered, slowly pulling short breaths that raise her shoulders and make her chest heave. You slide closer to her, closing the last of the distance between the two of you as you touch your mouth to hers and place your hand over her heartbeat, letting it’s rapid pulse echo through your own body.
When you finally pull back, head dizzy and hands shaking, you sit back on your heels and truly, deeply stare at Robin. There’s a lot to be said for the way it feels to live out your fantasies: kissing Robin was different than you had ever dreamed, but already you were eyeing her body, looking for the next place you could press your mouth to. When you turned on your knees, bumping the forgotten brown bottle and sending it rolling under the couch, Steve was staring at you. You tucked your chin slightly, locking your jaw, and traced your eyes up, over his body as he sat cross-legged. When your eyes got to his face, you were prepared to see anger, mistrust, maybe even a smirk; what you saw instead shocked you. Steve’s eyes were wide, his jaw loose, and the look in his eyes was the kind you usually only saw when you had him under your thighs, pinning him down to your shared bed. You blinked at him, once, slowly, and he immediately held his arms open to you. “Come here, baby,” he half growled, and you closed the gap between the two of you while Robin panted behind you. Settling yourself over Steve, you straddle his hips with your thighs, snaking your fingers up over his neck and into his long hair. He tilts his head up slightly, and his lips move as he silently begs you to touch him. Slowly, making him wait for it, you dip your head to his mouth. You kiss him more gently than you kissed Robin–where kissing Robin was fast and hard, kissing Steve is slow and soft. His lips are wide, settling against yours patiently as you administer feather light touches to his skin. Your lips slide, slowly, down to his chin and over his jawline, and you go as slow as you can stand to. He moans under you, quietly, and you can feel him aching against the seam of his jeans as you draw out each second away from his skin.
“Um,” Robin’s voice is hushed from behind you. “Should I–I mean, I should leave, I think.” You pull your mouth back from where you’re sucking Steve’s throat, whipping your head back towards Robin quickly. “Don’t,” you say before you have time to consider the word. “Look,” Robin says, raising her hands to chest level, palms out–a classic Steve Harrington, peace bringer, move. “I don’t know what, um, foreplay this is that you two are, like, in to or whatever, but I just–” “It’s not foreplay,” Steve says, his voice quiet. “I want her happy.” He’s staring at Robin as he says this, and you feel a blush snake over your body as you bite your lip. “Well, I’m not just here to teach you how to–I don’t know, fucking get your girlfriend off or whatev–” “Hey,” Steve says, a note of offense in his voice. “I don’t need you to teach me anything. She just–I mean, she–” “I have a crush on you, Robin,” you say, your voice small. It’s embarrassing to admit, even though her bottom lip had just been between your teeth minutes ago. Robin looks at you, her sharp eyebrows narrowing together. “But you’re with Steve,” she says, her voice thick with confusion. “You’re not the first girl who’s picked Harrington over me, but I just–” You shake your head at her. “Steve and I got together before I knew I liked you,” you say. “So…you like Harrington. And you like me.” You nod, slowly, watching her eyes narrow as she tries to make sense of what you’ve said. “Steve. You knew she liked me?” He shrugs, nodding slightly. “And you wanted her to kiss me?” You turn back to Steve at Robin’s question, interested in hearing his answer yourself. He reaches out, stroking his thumb over your cheekbone as his fingers settle under your jawbone. “Like I said,” he murmurs, eyes on yours. “I want my babygirl to be happy.”
“Okay,” Robin says, a note of skepticism in her voice. “I still feel like I should leave. You got to kiss me and Steve got to kiss you and everybody’s happy now, so I’m going to–” “You could stay,” you interrupt her. You turn back to Steve, and he’s looking at you with his eyebrows slightly raised. You widen your eyes at him in question and he nods. “Stay the night with us, Robin,” you say, turning back to her. “But I’m…I mean. I’m not like you,” she says. “I don’t want Steve and you, I just want you and I just–�� You grin as her words flow out, her mouth moving faster than her brain as usual so she doesn’t even realize she’s said she wants you. “I don’t want you either,” Steve says, half grimacing as he shakes his head at Robin. “I’m not going to touch you; I just want to touch her,” he says, wrapping his thick fingers around your waist at his words. You can’t help the hot feeling of desire that snakes it’s way up from between your thighs at his words, and you feel your breath hitch slightly at his words, causing Steve to squeeze his fingers into your skin slightly. Robin’s eyes flick to his hands on your skin, and the desire in her eyes is palpable. “So, what?” She asks, her voice hushed, eyes on the floor. “I spend the night with the two of you, and then we spend the rest of our lives with the two of you happy and me as some sort of third-wheel?” The pain in her face makes your heart physically feel like it’s breaking, and you can’t stop the way your jaw drops as a tiny hitch of breath breaks out of her throat. “Robin,” you say, gently, watching tears build in her almond-shaped eyes. “You’re always going to be a part of our family.” She raises her face, eyes hopeful as one tear shines it’s way down her cheek, splattering a dark stain on her top; you don’t even decide to reach out her, but suddenly your fingers are waiting in the dim light, a link between her and you, and you and Steve, if she wants to take it. When her fingers slip across yours, you feel a breath loose from your chest that you didn’t know you were holding. You gently tug her wrist, pulling her body to yours, as you turn back to Steve. He looks up at you again, grinning, and whispers, “Happy?” Instead of replying, you just press your grinning mouth against his.
When Robin wraps her arms around your waist from behind, bringing her hands up to cup your breasts as you lean forward over Steve’s lap, you feel your heart racing through all of your skin, the pulse beating like the thin skin between you and Steve, between you and Robin, is too much separation. Your core is hot, already aching with a soft, slow need for something, someone. You rub your hips against Steve’s lap, delighting in the sensation of your body over his and the way Robin’s arms squeeze you slightly tighter to keep her torso pressed to your back as you move. Her head lowers to the space between your shoulder and neck, sliding her lips down over your pulse dancing along the side of your throat, and she nips at you softly. The gasp she elicits breaks through your mouth right as Steve’s fingers come up under your jaw, pulling your chin to angle your mouth to his. His lips are soft against yours, and the wide, flat of his palm snakes up your side to your breast, sliding his fingers between Robin’s to squeeze your soft skin. You feel grateful, suddenly, that you had thought this was a casual night-in originally, as Steve’s thick fingers pinch and roll your nipple unhindered by a bra. You gasp into his mouth, and Robin’s hand on your other breast quickly begins mimicking Steve’s actions. It it almost overwhelming, this feeling of two sets of hands sliding over you, tickling your skin, teasing and pinching you, and you have to break your mouth away from Steve’s just long enough to gasp, trying to force as much air as you can down your throat.
“You okay, baby?” Steve asks, burrowing his head along the side of your neck Robin has left untouched so far. His hair brushes against your jaw, tickling slightly, as Robin presses her teeth into your skin on the other side. You want to tell them, both, that you feel incredible, that your body feels like it’s got the sun tethered under your skin, that you want both of them to touch you like this for the rest of your life, but all that comes out of your mouth is a slight whimper. Robin pulls her head back, and you feel her turn to look at Steve. “Is she okay?” She asks, a note of panic in her voice as the same sound comes out of you a second time. “She will be,” Steve says, and you can hear the sadistic tone to his voice that means he’s going to give you exactly what you’re already begging for. He runs his tongue over your throat, pausing with his lips lightly against your ear. “Want us to take you to the bedroom, baby girl?” Your fingers tighten, knotting in his hair, and the other hand reaches behind you for Robin, sliding up her neck to tighten in her long strands of hair as well. Steve sits back, slightly, and slips you off his lap on to the floor. You would whine, but he’s pressed you directly against Robin and you take the opportunity to tighten your hand on her neck and bend her head down to kiss you. Your mouth is hungry against hers, hard and desperate as you seek her touch. You sense Steve standing up in front of you, and you pull your mouth away from Robin’s to look at him as he leans down, slipping his arms around your thighs and lifting you, wrapping your thighs around his waist. He looks over his shoulder at Robin still panting on the floor. “You coming?” You turn to look at her just in time to see her flush at his words before giving a tense nod. She stands quickly, following Steve as he carries you back to the bedroom.
He sets you down in the center edge of the mattress, the soft comforter tickling the back of your knees as his fingers wrap around the hem of your shirt, pulling it directly over your head and exposing your breasts. The air is cool against your skin, and your nipples harden again. Steve can’t stop himself from letting his tongue wet his lips and, when he sees you smile in return, he drops his head, his hair tickling your collarbones as his tongue slides over your soft skin. You gasp, wrapping your hands around the back of his head to keep him there as his fingers slide down, hooking in the sides of your shorts and underwear. He pulls back suddenly, his large hands on your shoulders as he pushes you down to the mattress before hooking them back against your hips to push the fabric there off of your skin. Standing in between your legs, your flushed skin making the air feel cooler and forcing you to be overly aware of your nudity, Steve strips his own shirt off, unbuckles his jeans, and lets them slide to the floor. He’s staring at you, his boxers tight in the center where his erection is bulging. You turn your head to the side, however, looking for Robin. She stands, uncertain, at the edge of the room. Her eyes are wide, and you can’t help but notice that the fingers of one of her hands are resting over her own breast, squeezing slightly. “Come here,” you whisper, your voice rasping almost like hers does. Robin’s eyes flick to Steve again, and he nods at her, smiling slightly. With this permission granted, Robin crosses her hands over her waist, grabbing the hem of her shirt and pulling it up; she tosses it on the floor, next to your own, and slips her pants off to leave in a puddle of fabric on the floor. In her underwear, she walks to the mattress you’re sprawled on and climbs up, her knees coming slowly closer to your torso.
Robin places one arm over your torso, and the fingers of the other slip down your skin. Your skin pebbles under her touch, and the heat of your blush can’t bring the gooseflesh back down. You bring your hand up to her small hip, sliding your fingers against her skin as you loop them under her the sides of her underwear. You look up at Robin’s face over you, and she nods slightly. Your fingers pull the fabric down slightly and her own hands help you, bringing the fabric between her knees before she manipulates them over her legs to toss on the floor behind her. She leans down over you, pressing her mouth against yours again, as Steve rubs slow circles with his thick fingers over your thighs. Your hand slips from Robin’s hips, lower down to her soft skin, pressing into her sex with the pads of your fingers and she moans into your mouth, the sound low and angelic. You take this as permission, and slide your middle finger along her slit, feeling the thick moisture there as she stifles a groan against your mouth. You run your fingers against her again, taking delight in the way her hips roll over your hand. Before either of you can think about it, you slide your middle and ring fingers into her entrance, a slight push allowing you to glide inside of her to your knuckles. She gasps, her open mouth on yours, and you take the opportunity to snag her lower lip between your teeth and bite gently. The moan she lets out reminds you of all the other sounds you’ve heard her make before, but it’s gentler. Usually, she sounds like a cat, one frequently on the verge of scratching, but now, here, on your fingers, she has turned to a kitten who cries out gently as your thumb brushes over her swollen clit.
You continue to pump your hand in and out of her tight warmth, using your thumb to circle her clit as you do, and she rolls her hips, fucking herself on your fingers. Her head shifts back, slightly and she whimpers softly, a honeyed “fuck” dropping off her tongue as you feel the first of her tightenings around your digits; Steve takes this moment to dig his thumbs into the inside of your thighs, using his fingers to stroke faster circles over your skin. You have to stop yourself from increasing the pace of your hand, desperate to bring her to her edge and send her over, desperate to watch Robin’s face contort as her body does. You increase the pressure of your thumb just slightly, knowing you’ve done the right thing when a high pitched moan snakes out of her mouth. Finally, she tosses her head back completely, the sounds coming out of her mouth completely animalistic as her eyebrows slide together and her mouth drops open. Her chest is heaving, and her fingers claw into the comforter around you. You feel a moment of satisfaction despite your own need, but it is cut short by the distraction of Steve’s mouth against your inner thigh. You gasp, still shifting your fingers inside of Robin as her aftershocks subside, and Steve runs his tongue up your center. “Fuck,” you exhale, and he stands up, placing himself in between your thighs with a self-satisfied grin at capturing your attention. His boxers have disappeared while you were distracted by Robin, and his hand is wrapped around his erection, pumping slowly as he watches your face. With a slight smile, you nod at him and Steve buries himself in you to his base. You brush your thumb over Robin’s clit again at the same time, and for a moment the room is filled with the sound of all three of you gasping at the same time.
Steve waits, placing his fingers around your hips as you adjust to the feeling of him inside of you. “Okay, babygirl?” He asks, quietly, his hair slipping over his forehead. You nod and he begins shifting his hips, pushing himself in and out of you as his thumbs press into your skin. Despite the pressure of his hands, you still roll your hips against him, desperate for more friction–he feels good inside of you, filling you perfectly, but you need more somehow, more contact. He takes the hint, bringing one of his hands down to place his palm over your mound as his thumb slips in between your folds to rub long, languid strokes against the sensitive bundle of nerves above where the two of you are joined. You gasp, your head rolling back into the soft mattress, but it still somehow isn’t enough. You turn your head, looking at Robin as she watches your face contort with the sounds working their way out of your chest, and you whimper. “What is it, baby?” Steve asks, his pace faltering slightly. “What do you need from me?” You shake your head, eyes still on Robin. “Do you need Robin?” You nod, jaw clamped together against the sounds trying to burst out of your mouth. Steve slows his movement inside of you, starting to pull out, and you whip your head back to look at him. “No,” you practically growl, and he stills. “I want you inside me,” you say, and the side of his mouth tilts up as he slides back into you again. He runs his hands under your thighs, lifting you slightly and pulling you down just an inch or two to settle your body farther down on his length while he stands at the edge of the bed. You moan, softly, and look back at Robin. “What do you want from me, babygirl?” Robin’s use of Steve’s pet name for you makes your heart flutter in your chest, and you know he’s feeling a sense of pride right now. “I want you,” you say, and it comes out as a whine. She blushes slightly, turning her head to share a grin with Steve at the end of the bed. “Tell me exactly what you want,” she says, reaching a hand out to brush her fingers over a strand of your hair that has stuck to your forehead as you sweat. “I want you on my mouth,” you blurt out, and her eyes go wide with desire. You turn back to look at Steve, whose eyebrows are raised as he fails to bite back a grin.
“Anything for you, babygirl,” Robin says, and she lifts herself up, settling her hips over your face. Steve slowly begins to pick up his pace again, thrusting in to your molten core as your tongue slowly slides in between Robin’s lips. She sighs quietly, settling more of her weight around you as your hands slide up her torso to squeeze her breasts over your head. Steve is moaning slightly, his fingers tightening around your thighs, and you decide to skip the foreplay with Robin’s body, wrapping your lips around her clit and sucking. She gasps, and when you lightly graze your teeth against her you can feel her thighs shake around your face. The combined pressure of her earlier orgasm and watching you get fucked by Steve has kept her close to a second orgasm, and you can feel her core tense over you as you run your tongue over the swollen bundle of nerves in between your lips. With Robin’s orgasm so close already and the feeling of Steve filling you, you feel your own muscles start to tighten. Steve takes his signal from your body, bringing one of his hands up to press lightly against your stomach, and you are suddenly moaning into Robin’s warmth, still desperately working your tongue against her as your muscles hitch inside your body, bringing you crashing over the edge Steve has spent hours working you towards since he first suggested drinking, and you almost worry you’re going to go blind as your legs shake and white pinpoints of light flicker over your vision. Robin moans as well, and you feel her come over your face, dripping down your chin as she bucks her hips against your hands still desperately holding her in place. Steve is the last to finish, his soft grunts turning into low moans of “fuck, babygirl, fuck” as his fingers bruise your skin and he buries himself in you, letting his orgasm fill the deep need inside of your core. His cum is thick as he twitches inside of you and his hands claw at your skin desperately as your aftershocks quiver around him, pulling his cock further into you as he fucks you through his orgasm, pushing the heavy mixture of his seed and your arousal back out of your body with each thrust.
Finally, there is quiet in the bedroom except for the sounds of the three of you panting. Robin lifts her legs from around your face, sliding over to one side of the bed before she leans down to kiss you again, moving her tongue in between your lips to taste the mixture of your mouth and her orgasm and wiping your chin softly with her fingers. You sit up, just enough to slide your body back more fully on to the mattress, and lay back down, feeling the plush come up behind every pulse point of your skin. Robin settles down next to you, turning on her side so her face is tilted to yours and you can watch the flush slowly recede under her skin as her breathing slows. She gently puts one hand over your breastbone, watching her own fingers move as you inhale. Steve is the last to join you on the bed, still breathing heavy as he settles himself on his side next to you. He buries his head in the skin of your neck, taking a deep inhale of your scent as he presses his lips to the spot under your ear. “Are you happy, baby girl?” He asks. Your eyelids feel heavy, your body spent and satiated, and your heart–your heart feels like, if they could see it right now, it would be shining a nearly blinding golden light of joy. You nod, and he sighs. Robin, quietly, says “That’s a yes, right?” and you almost laugh at her, but you just turn your head to her and smile before nodding again. She smiles and then purrs almost as she settles herself closer to you. Steve wraps an arm around your ribs, slipping his fingers around the top of your stomach as he pushes his torso closer to yours. “Harrington,” Robin rasps, voice thick with sleep already. “You’re touching me.” “Then move over,” Steve says, yawning, but she stays where she is, already asleep. “We’re going to need a bigger bed,” Steve mutters, and the room fills with the sound of their quiet breathing.
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Vanilla
Robin Buckley x female!reader
Had to write a small blurb for my best girl for Pride 💕
Contents: fear of homophobia (brief), no use of y/n. This is just pure fluff really
Robin smiled as you laughed at the joke she had said. She was worried you would think it was stupid or not funny or that you wouldn't get it and then she'd have to explain it snd then-
Her anxiety made her overthink often. Especially when it came to you. Robin didn't want to seem like a loser to you, like she has at school. Or just a band geek. You were so smart in her eyes, even if you claimed you weren't. She wanted to impress you. While she loved learning languages, it released a new fervor in her when you had told her it was "so cool" and smiled at her. You were learning sign language from her, something Steve and her had started learning after he had started to go deaf. Robin loved teaching you and having an excuse to touch your hands, molding them into the correct shape.
"Robs? Where'd ya go?" Your voice breaks her out of her thoughts. She turns her head on her pillow to look at you. Laying on your side, hair unkempt from your usual style. The smile on your lips. Robin turned onto her side, facing you. A piece of hair fell into her eyes, blocking her view of you. She went to move it and-
You push the hair behind her ear, hand trailing lightly down her jaw before retreating back towards the middle of the bed. The scent of vanilla from your wrist filled her nostrils. She hated that smell, only because of how it made her think of you. The thought of how sweet you smelled...how sweet you must taste. Her face flushing making you giggle slightly. "You're as red as a strawberry, Robs."
Robin opened her mouth but no sound came out. Your brows wrinkle as you take her in. Usually, Robin would be rambling by now. You loved listening to her talk, oblivious to the fact she was rambling to distract herself from thoughts of you.
But not this time. This time, Robin couldn't help but think of you. How much she wanted to hold you close. How much she wanted to kiss you. How she would gladly show you off if it wasn't small-town Indiana in the 80s. Robin wasn't even sure how you would react. She would rather suffer in silence being in love with you then have you walk away from being her friend.
"Robs?"
Robin smiled softly at you, trying to shake the forlorn feeling that had descended on her. She gently rests her hand on top of yours. "Do you ever think...of things you know you can't have?" She asks quietly. "What do you mean?" Robin looks up into your eyes. Your eyes conveying curiosity, but also warmth and safety. She clears her throat,"Like...someone you can't have?" You blink at her and hum," like a celebrity or someone famous?" "I mean yeah but like someone...closer? Someone you want to be around all the time. Who's beautiful."
You frown slightly," oh. You have a crush on someone?" Robin feels the warmth in her cheeks rising again, knowing she's gone red. "Who do you like?" You ask quietly. Robin bites her lip and you lightly kick her," Why can't you have him?" "Because it isnt a him...its...you." Your eyes widen in shock and you pull back.
Robin's stomach sinks and she clenches her eyes shut. Your hand moves out from under hers. She can feel her eyes start to water. She shouldn't have said anything, she should have stayed quiet.
Robin feels her hand get flipped over before a palm touches her. Fingers intertwine. "You like me too?"
Robin's eyes snap open and she gasps. The hopeful look on your face makes her heart pick up speed. "Yes! You like me too?" A laugh escapes her lungs as she squeezes your hand lightly. Your smile spreads across your face as you squeeze her hand back," Yes!" "Holy shit!"
You both laugh and smile at each other before she shuffles closer to you. Her eyes dart to your lips. Your hand tentatively returns to her jaw, thumb grazing her cheekbone. Robin thinks her heart is going to jump out of her chest. The butterflies that had been fluttering their wings in her stomach are now flying around wildly. Robin leans in, inhaling slightly.
The scent of vanilla floods her senses. The feeling of lips touching hers. A quick soft kiss, leaving her yearning for more. A gasp that escapes you as she kisses you firmer. Mouths moving together. Tongues darting out. Hands still intertwined between the two of you. The feeling of your hand on her jaw moving back into her hair, pulling her closer. Robin's free hand grasping your hip, pulling you closer. The unmistakable sound of lips smacking, gasps, and moans fills her ears. When you two part, you both are breathless.
She isnt sure how long you two had kissed, a few minutes or a few hours could have passed. But this moment in time is one she will never forget. You, smiling sweetly with swollen lips. Hands still intertwined. Giggling. Warmth spread within Robin's stomach. The scent of vanilla enveloping you.. She loved the scent of vanilla. The scent of home.
#Oh to lay in bed next to your loved one and kiss them silly#Oh to hold hands and confess your love#Robin's gonna go into work and dunk on Steve being unable to get a girlfriend and be like WELL I CAN BITCH#Steve's gonna be snarky but congratulate her...later takes you out and threatens you that you better not break her heart#You aren't sure if you are jealous your girlfriend has a ride or die that isnt you or mad that he thinks you would hurt her#You become friends after which Robin is eternally grateful to the universe both of her soul mates one romantic one platonic get along#Robin Buckley#Robin Buckley x reader#Robin Buckley x female!reader#Robin Buckley x you#Robin Buckley x y/n#Robin Buckley/reader#Robin Buckley/female!reader#Robin Buckley/you#Jade is Talking
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i wish i liked reading ronance more bc as a lesbian i love reading wlw fics but i just dont vibe with it much for some reason..
i am a robin kinnie tho so was wondering are there other robin ships that have good fics? and if so plz recommend :D im kind of new here
I'm not too sure, sorry! I like fan art and edits and the dynamic of Robin/Vickie and Robin/Chrissy too, but personally I don't read any fic for those ships. I've also seen Robin paired with Barb, Heather and Eden and I think all of those ships could be super fun. I'll put this in those tags and the Robin tag and if any readers have any accounts or fics for non-Ronance Robin fics, please drop them here!
#stranger things#rovickie#buckingham#robin buckley/eden bingley#robin buckley/heather#robin buckley/reader#byler#<- so people see this#robin buckley
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family: “why are you just sitting in ur room smiling at ur phone?”
me who’s been reading smut about fictional characters for the past 6 hours:
#smut#relatable#neteyam x reader#jake sully x reader#lo’ak x reader#tonowari x reader#miguel o’hara x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#ghost x reader#konig x reader#draco malfoy x reader#mattheo riddle x reader#ellie williams x reader#harry potter x reader#rick grimes x reader#dean winchester x reader#neytiri x reader#wanda maximoff x reader#natasha romanoff x reader#steve rogers x reader#bucky barnes x reader#edmund pevensie x reader#eddie munson x reader#steve harrington x reader#robin buckley x reader#five hargreeves x reader#leon kennedy x reader#gojo satoru x reader#rafe cameron x reader#jj mayback x reader
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me, a writer, at 3am: WHAT? I CANT FIND THE SPECIFIC FANFIC THAT I MADE UP IN MY MIND WITH A WHOLE PLOT AND ORIGINAL CHARACTERS??? WHO DO THEY THINK THEY ARE??? DO THEY EXPECT ME TO WRITE THE STORY I THOUGHT UP OF???
#bethsvrse#stiles stilinski x reader#spencer reid x reader#peter parker x reader#ted lasso x reader#bruce banner x reader#steve harrington x reader#robin buckley x reader#wanda maximoff x reader#character x reader#fanfic#writer struggles#bucky barnes x reader#sebastian stan x reader#chris evans x reader#timothee chalamet x reader#sirius black x reader#remus lupin x reader#george weasley x reader#fred weasly x reader#mike schmidt x reader#james potter x reader#isaac lahey x reader#jason sudeikis x reader#pedro pascal x reader#steve rodgers x reader#peter quill x reader#obi wan kenobi x reader#poe dameron x reader#neville longbottom x reader
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𝐇𝐮𝐫𝐭 𝐅𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟏『••✎••』
𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝘌𝘥𝘥𝘪𝘦 𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘬𝘴 𝘶𝘱 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘣𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘨𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘯'𝘵 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘩 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳. 𝘜��𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘶𝘯𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘺 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘩𝘪𝘮, 𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘻𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘰𝘰 𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘣𝘪𝘨 𝘰𝘧 𝘢 𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘢𝘴.
𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠(𝐬): 𝘌𝘥𝘥𝘪𝘦 𝘔𝘶𝘯𝘴𝘰𝘯/𝘍𝘦𝘮!𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳, 𝘚𝘵𝘦𝘷𝘦 𝘏𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘵𝘰𝘯/𝘍𝘦𝘮!𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳
𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠(𝐬): 𝘈𝘯𝘨𝘴𝘵, 𝘗𝘳𝘰𝘧𝘢𝘯𝘪𝘵𝘺
𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.4
This shouldn’t hurt as much as it does.
Things could’ve ended far worse than they actually did. Hell, most of the couples in their school tended to make breakups as dramatic as possible, normally painting one half of the relationship as some kind if irredeemable monster, if not to paint them as this sympathetic martyr, than just to save face that it actually hurt.
In her case, Eddie Munson told her they just weren’t a good match and he wanted to be friends again instead. That was as healthy as they could possibly get. And in the best case scenario, too, she’d still be able to have him be a part of her life. She didn’t think she could stand the thought of seeing him in the halls and not being able to acknowledge him.
She’d fallen hard and fast for Eddie, embarrassingly so.
Given the heavy duty of designated driver for the little hooligans she’d somehow decided to adopt with Steve Harrington, she’d gotten accustomed to waiting in the high school parking lot, her nose pressed into the creases of her current novel while she waited for them to finish their important campaigns, all procured from the brilliant mind of Eddie Munson.
She’d known him before then, too, but only in passing. He’d often make a big spectacle of himself in the cafeteria just to bug the other students, and he held the record as super senior. But she’d never even talked to him until she saw him walk the boys out after a seemingly successful campaign, his arms wrapped tightly around Dustin and Lucas’ shoulders as he praised them.
He’d acknowledged her when he got to her car.
“My fair maiden,” he’d said, “I apologize for the delay.”
She’d blubbered out some kind of half-hearted response, good enough to make him laugh, and that made her heart go a million miles a minute.
It didn’t take long before she’d gotten the courage to ask him out, even if it was just for coffee. He was surprised, but he agreed.
It had been nice, he even drove her home after. She probably should’ve seen the signs then because he didn’t suggest a second meet up, she had instead. And he’d agreed.
It was about a month before they made themselves official, in Hawkins High language, practically married. But it really just meant she got to hold his hand between classes and get quick kisses goodbye when it was time to separate, somehow always on her cheek than her lips.
She’d thought their dates were fun; it was a lot of pressure since he always left it up to her, never having any other idea than lounging about her home and just watching TV. But she was the one who thought of renting movies for horror marathons, figuring it was up his alley. She thought of bowling and drive-in theaters and picnicking near the quarry for its desolate atmosphere, another thing she figured was right up his alley.
But things came to an underwhelming end when Eddie approached her at her locker on some random Thursday to tell her things just weren’t working out and he wanted to stay as friends. Despite how much even that had hurt, she agreed. She didn’t want to make him do anything he regretted.
She could still be friends with him, happily so. That meant she could still sit with him at lunch, hear his outlandish tales, and be able to admire him from afar, even if she was no longer able to touch him and hold his hand.
“Be honest,” she’d heard Gareth say as she approached with her tray, “what really happened? You know, most guys woulda killed to be able to take her out, the fact she stuck around for months is surprising enough.”
Eddie shrugs, chewing absentmindedly on a pretzel he’d brought. She would pack him lunches when they were together since he always forgot and resorted to eating prepackaged things instead. Since they broke up, it seemed like old habits really did die hard.
“To tell you the truth,” he starts rather dramatically, “no substance. Pretty face, nice voice, real sweet, but God, boring as all hell.” He runs a hand down his face. The other boys seemed surprised. Dustin and Mike share a look, but say nothing, clearly waiting to hear more. Because there was no way it could be just that. There had to be more. They knew her better than anyone, had been through so much with her. What could be the real reason Eddie broke things off?
“And?” Dustin coaxes.
“And what?”
“Dude, seriously?” Mike scoffs. “She wasn’t interesting enough for you?”
Eddie shakes his head. “Look, she’s a great gal. And I know you guys are super close, which is awesome, but we just weren’t the best match. And I felt like shit that she was putting in all of the effort when I wasn’t interested. Now she’s free to...I dunno...find someone boring, too.” He sniggers, elbowing Jeff beside him trying to get him to laugh, too, but he could see how upset Dustin and Mike were.
Luckily, for her sake, they didn’t notice her standing there, having overheard everything. Spinning right back around, she’d ditched her tray onto one of the trash bins before leaving the cafeteria completely before there was a chance anyone could see her tears.
God, it shouldn’t hurt as much as it does, she thinks again. He was more than welcome to have his own opinion, but why did it have to be something like that?
He was right, she wasn’t exactly Chrissy Cunningham or Heather Holloway, being this huge spectacle that made every new day more exciting than the last. All things considered, sometimes too much excitement frightened her. Having risked her life at least once a year for nearly four years now made her yearn for the more simple things. It was stupid of her to think Eddie would want the same. Eddie Munson, who liked to make scenes in the cafeteria and rock out in a bar with his band. He didn’t crave the simplicity of life like she did.
She didn’t go back into that cafeteria for the remaining of the lunch period. In fact, she’d decided to skip the rest of the day completely, knowing she shared three periods with Eddie and right now she really didn’t want to see him. She just wanted to get away, leave herself to her own thoughts to try to calm down.
Well, that really only lasted for ten minutes because she found herself pulling into the small parking lot into Family Video. She spots Steve’s car at the far end and knows he’s inside. It was childish of her to go running and crying to Steve Harrington, who she knew would take her side and say all the cruel things about Eddie that she couldn’t bring herself to because she really just needed someone on her side right now. Aside from Dustin and Mike, of course. She wouldn’t forget how they jumped to her defense.
The little bell rings at the top of the door as she walks in, startling Steve into consciousness, who seemed to be snoozing on the edge of the counter, drool pooled across his forearm. He wipes feverishly at his face and blinks unfocused in her direction, trying to situate himself quickly into his customer service face.
“Welcome to Fam-Jesus, you scared me,” he cuts himself off when he at last realizes it’s her. Confused, he turns to glance at the clock hung up on the wall. “Don’t tell me school’s out already? You beat Robin here.”
“No, I’m playing hooky,” she shakes her head, unsteadily moving towards the counter.
“What? You? I’m sorry, am I still dreaming?” Steve asks dramatically. “Since when do you, of all people, ever skip class? I’d sooner believe Nancy doing it than you.”
“Just...needed a break s’all,” she says with a shrug, looking around. “Keith not here?”
“Nah, he’s off today. Something about a new graphic novel he’s been dying to get. Says he’d have to wait overnight just to get one of the first editions. I don’t know, I don’t really listen to him unless he’s handing over my check,” Steve said. She leans up against the counter, trying to act casual. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah, why wouldn’t things be okay?”
“Well, for one, having to clarify that things are supposed to be okay when asked if everything’s okay is a pretty big indicator that things aren’t, in fact, okay.” Steve says with a laugh. “So everything’s not okay, then?”
“Everything’s okay,” she lies. “I just...can I ask you something?”
“Yeah?”
She isn’t sure how to come out and say it without sounding stupid. Better, she can’t figure out a way to come out and say it without sounding completely pathetic. But this was Steve, he was the king of asking her embarrassing things. He even called her once at three in the morning to ask how long you were supposed to leave cookies in the oven for. The follow up question was how to get the burnt smell out before his mom came home.
“Am I boring?”
Steve tilts his head. “Huh?”
“Am I boring, Steve? Am I boring?”
“No? Who gave you that idea?” Steve snorts, like he thinks it was a foolish thing to ask. “Whoever it is clearly hasn’t seen you handle a crowbar.” He was referencing when she’d nabbed a crowbar from the junkyard lot to fend off the demodogs with him, all to protect the little ones in the bus. She doesn’t want to remember that right now, not when it makes her feel cold inside.
“Nobody, I just...I dunno, I just think that maybe I’m not as exciting as, like...you o-or Rob or Nancy or, hell, even Jonathan.”
“Nonsense, you’re a badass! True story, you know I wouldn’t say that about just any...” Steve trails off, finally really looking at her. “Hey...hey, why are you really askin’ me that? Something happen? Someone say something to you?”
“No, Steve, I was just asking.”
“You’re lying,” he accuses. “Who was it, was it Byers? Nancy? Not Robin...”
“No! No, Steve, they didn’t say anything, please just drop it. I shouldn’t have asked.”
Steve’s face eventually relaxes, having realized he knew exactly who she was talking about.
“Munson.”
She shakes her head. “Stop it, Steve.”
“What did he say? I thought he just wanted to be friends, where’s all this coming from?” he asked. There were too many questions being thrown at her. She doesn’t want to cry, especially not in front of him, but as soon as she feels her cheek dampen that was it. Soon she was burying her face in her hands and trying to stop the little whimpers from coming out.
She doesn’t notice Steve leap easily over the counter. He pulls her close, shushing her quietly.
“Hey, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you upset,” he says. She sniffles, wrapping her arms around him. He’s petting her hair, kissing the crown of her head, trying his damndest to get her to calm down and talk to him. He was the perfect person to come to, she now realizes. Her subconscious knew Steve was the answer.
When she finally stopped crying, he at last let her go, giving her some space.
She rubs the tears from her eyes and wipes the tears on her jeans.
“Want me to kill him?” he asks jokingly. She laughs. He smiles again. “What happened? Can you tell me now?”
She told him what Eddie had said, the real reason he’d broken up with her and how she ran from the cafeteria and came here. Steve was reasonably upset, but he didn’t want to make it all about pounding Eddie into a pulp, he knew she needed her friend right now and he was prepared to be just that.
“Hey, screw him,” Steve scoffs, throwing an arm over her shoulders and pulling her back into his chest. “You’re far from boring, believe me, and honestly if you ask me you could do so much better than Eddie Munson. The guy picks his nose. I saw him once. It was gnarly.”
She’s laughing again, playfully hitting him.
“Thank you, Steve,” she says, “I’m sorry to dump all this on you, I just needed someone to talk to, you know?”
“Well, you came to the right guy. I can’t tell you it gets much better from public humiliation, but I can tell you that you find much better shit to focus on. Like this obviously stellar job. Robin. My new stereo I saved up for. And...well, you.” He playfully flicks her nose. She wrinkles her nose and swats his hand away. “Eddie doesn’t know what he’s talkin’ about. But I know he’s gonna kick himself in the ass when he realizes he lost a girl like you.”
“Yeah, you’re just saying that ‘cause you’re my friend.”
“Not true, I also wanna bug you for your famous cookies.” Steve winks.
“I can bring them to you tonight, then.” she said, patting his arm. “I should get going. Um...you clearly are very busy and I don’t wanna keep you from doing your job.”
“I know, such a bad influence. The gateway rebellion was skipping class. Now it’s job defiance,” Steve chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck. “Hey, um...if you want, when you come by tonight, maybe you could stick around? Was gonna rifle through the back, borrow some flicks to waste my evening away. Free to join me if you want? Robin flaked out on me, says she’s doing some band practice with Vicky. Didn’t ask for details.”
She thinks about it and smiles. “Sounds like fun. Girls’ night.”
“Invitation rescinded!” Steve shouts, turning away.
“No, I’m kidding, I’m kidding, stop!” she protests, giggling. “I’ll bring cookies and pizza, Steve. I’ll be there.”
“Alright, then,” Steve said. “Um...hey, don’t worry about Eddie, alright? He’s just being a dick. And honestly, apart from his relationship with the rugrats, he’s still gonna be a dick. He missed out on a girl like you. Clearly he’s a martian.”
“Doesn’t mean much when I’m from Hawkins. But thank you, Steve. I’ll see you tonight,” she says, squeezing his hand and finally leaving the store back to her car. She left feeling much lighter than she had going in. He was right. Forget Eddie. If he thought she was so boring he clearly didn’t need her around him. She had other friends, friends like Steve.
Smiling to herself, she climbs into the driver’s seat and turns the key into the ignition, hearing the engine roar to life.
Things would be just fine.
#stranger things#steve harrington#eddie munson#dustin henderson#mike wheeler#nancy wheeler#robin buckley#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x fem!reader#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x fem!reader#eddie munson angst#steve harrington angst#jane hopper#eleven#max mayfield#jonathan byers#series
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I know what they call you.
🍯 honey flavour: You’re a little lost in your head. Eddie wants to find you.
🐝 the bees: Eddie x shy!Reader, best friends Steve + Robin
wc: 11k
cw: alcohol/weed used as a social crutch, R is hassled by a guy at a party (but her boys back her up), brief vomit mention, implied bad home life for R, light SH by way of tight grip, PTSD, R has breasts+V, praise kink, oral (R receiving), one (1) spank, multiple orgasms (R), soft dom!eddie, overstim, coming in pants (E)
foreword: The healing properties of good head <333 Anyways I labeled this R “shy” but she’s more… introverted? Reserved? this one goes out to the weird and off-putting girlies who have a lot to say but are kinda quiet instead. Timeline may be a bit wibbly but designed it to be early 4th-season era, with R (early 20s) having played an undetermined part in the various Upside Down battles from seasons previous.
Loosely based on this anon every1 say thank you anon!
___
It’s spring break, 1986, and you’re cursing the name of your so-called “best friend” Robin Buckley.
You didn’t even want to go to this stupid kegger in the first place, arguing with her the whole ride over from Steve’s backseat.
“Don’t you think it’s totally lame that you’re basically being chaperoned by two gap-year losers?” you’d said, leaning forward to rest your elbows on the console, seatbelt pulling taut across your Rolling Stones tee. “You’re a big girl, Robin, you don’t need Steve and me to babysit you anymore.”
Robin began protesting but Steve interrupted, tapping at your forearms without looking away from the road- “Sit back, wouldja, that’s not safe. And for the record, it’d only be lame if we were, like, thirty and still going to high school kickbacks. Gap-year drinking parties are a rite of passage.”
You’d sat back against your seat with a huff, arms crossed, unconvinced until Robin turned those big pleading eyes your way over the back of her seat. “You wanna talk about lame? Lame is me getting anywhere within a 60-foot radius of Vickie. I am totally hopeless around that absolute beauty.”
She’d twisted in her seat and reached for your hand, and you gave it to her grudgingly (the two of you ignoring another of Steve’s gripe about vehicular safety) as she said, “You’re like, the best wingwoman I’ve ever met. Please come to the party and help me avoid the natural disaster that is me running my mouth.”
Robin wasn’t just being generous- you were a killer third wheel. Especially when alcohol was involved: the walls that you naturally upheld around your introverted demeanor by day turned liquid as whiskey by night, often scoring you major cool points with your friends for things you barely remembered doing the day after.
So you’d relented, and in turn resolved to get as drunk as possible as quickly as possible (in the name of Robin’s aid, of course), but turns out your best friend didn’t even need your help in the first place; within 5 minutes of setting foot in the crammed house party Robin won a spot right next to Vickie on the living room couch, starry-eyed gaze saved only for the redhead that bore no room for your intervention.
Three shots ago, the situation would have struck you as funny, but it’s been a lonely time (what with Steve abandoning you, too, in favor of chatting up some college blonde); drifting from packed room to packed room, sneakers sticking to the floorboards, winding through throngs of sweaty dancing students just to keep on top of your alcohol consumption.
Kind of like hunting in the wild, you muse, leaned against a wall with red solo cup in hand. Flirt with Amy Thacker and her low-cut blouse to access the watering hole (Mystery Punch, green both in color and flavor); let Lenny Baker put his paws on your waist to gain entry to the standing liquor cabinet. The stuff of nature docs.
If this dimly-lit Hawkins party is the savanna, then you are the antelope- grazing on snacks, never staying in one spot for too long, minding your own business and staying way the hell away from the lion’s den (the group of jocks in Hawkins Tigers polos).
Unfortunately, you push off the wall in search of a refill at the same time Lenny Baker decides to sidle up to you, nearly knocking the cup from your grasp when he bends his thick head to shout in your ear above the music.
“Great party, right?” His arms are crossed above his tank of a chest, blocking you from a smooth exit via the kitchen archway.
“If you’re into drunk teens, I guess,” you say back, pointedly, licking a stripe up your wrist from where the punch had sloshed onto your bare arm.
When you look back up Lenny’s still standing there, watching you with a hungry edge that’s starting to make your well-honed antelope-sense tingle. As you not-so-subtly cast your glance around for Steve, Lenny leans in again, close enough to give you a sour whiff of his breath. “I’m legal, if that’s what’s got your panties in a twist. And what’s wrong with having some fun?”
“I’m not into having fun with douchebags who ‘roid away their remaining brain cells to bully my friends,” you retort, flatly. You doubt this guy knows you’re connected to the Hellfire group (de facto sitter, second only to Steve), but the insult seems to land anyways.
Lenny scoffs, going for a low blow to offset the sting of his bruised ego- “If you’re trying to play the part of slut, you were doing a way better job earlier.”
What the meathead hasn’t picked up on yet is your absolute lack of care about him- or anyone else at this stupid fucking party, for that matter. Besides Robin and Steve, obviously, but they’re equally indisposed at the moment. You’re feeling bold enough that you could play dirty: throw the dregs of your drink in his face, make a real scene- but the shots from earlier are hitting you sideways and you’re not entirely confident in your ability to multitask.
So instead, with a wink, you tell him, “At least this slut knows when to quit,” and turn on your heel, abandoning the kitchen escape route for a closer door that leads to the back porch.
You suck in lungfuls of cool night air, trying to clear the fuzz of booze from your vision. When you don’t hear any angry footsteps following in your wake, you sink against the wooden bannister and tip back the last of your drink in one swallow. Maybe Steve doubled back to the car…?
With your empty cup left neatly on the railing, you set off down the couple of steps that separate you from the grass, except the toe of your shoe catches on a hidden groove in the wood, and nothing is within reach to grab onto as you trip and begin to fall.
The stumble should have ended with you facedown in the dirt, but something- someone- solid breaks your downward path, catching the upper half of your body in a sturdy hold even as your legs twist around themselves.
“Whoa, whoa, hey, I gotcha. You okay?”
The voice is instantly familiar, one that you’ve heard ringing out from underneath the drama room door on countless occasions as you’ve waited on your various child wards to wrap up their D&D sessions.
Eddie Munson is holding you in his leather-clad arms, larger than life with that big cloud of hair and doe-eyed gaze matching yours. He helps you stand, properly, dropping his hands once you’re stabilized and taking the warmth of his palms with him.
“You okay?” he asks again, tilting his head, looking at you with fresh concern from under that mop of bangs. “Looks like you had a lot to drink.”
“Thanks, Dad,” you drawl, bravado flooding back in. “Am I really gonna get a fucking lecture on drinking from my local drug dealer?”
Instead of rising to the bait or bristling at your tone, Eddie grins- delighted, wolfish- before letting out a low whistle. “Who coulda guessed: resident Shy Girl has a mouth on her.”
You twist said mouth into your own smile, one that you hope is coy and charming and not dorkily lopsided (because you stopped being able to feel your face after that last drink), and coo, “You thinkin’ about my mouth, Munson?”
He laughs- a full, vibrant sound that lights up the night. There’s a flutter in your ribcage, knocking up a frenzy at the noise, like it wants to get out and at him, but you tamp it down and play it cool.
“You’ve only seen me in the cold, unforgiving light of day,” you continue, as Eddie rifles through his pockets, surfacing with a pack of cigs, eye contact yet to be broken. “My nighttime alter ego is a real riot, all liquored up.”
“Well, I happen to think you’re a riot in the sober light of day, too.” Eddie shrugs a shoulder as he flips the lid of the cigarette box.
You’re unsure if he’s messing with you- he’s gotta be, right? The only meaningful interaction you two have had in the past handful of years has been through the courtesy of the children in your respective care- a few surface-level conversations during carpool pickup, some flirting on his end that you’ve always been too skittish to return.
Well, until now, you guess. Maybe this is a good thing, him seeing you like this- it’ll either scare him away, or you’ll finally make good on the quiet crush you’ve been harboring.
You’re about to speak again when the porch door opens with a bang; you and Eddie swivel at the same time to see Lenny clomping noisily towards the steps, voice booming out over the thrum of bass back inside- “This freak bothering you?”
You look between the metalhead and the jock, eyes wide and mocking as you call back, “No, but you’re starting to!”
“Jesus, talk about poking the bear,” you hear Eddie mutter behind you, but your focus is taken up by the fact that Lenny is tromping down the steps and reaching out to grab your upper arm, his cold and clammy palm taking up a sizeable amount of space.
You can feel that rage, simmering and easily accessed, start to crawl over your skin. You stand your ground in the face of someone much larger than you, sneakers planted firmly, chin tilted in defiance- I’ve killed monsters in alternate dimensions, asswipe. You might’ve scared me back in high school but now I dare you to fuck with me.
Before Eddie can jump to your defense, you’re already going in for the bite, voice dripping with derisiveness. “So glad your right hand found its way off your dick for a change, Len. How about you do me one better and take it far, far away from here?”
Lenny’s face is almost purple with anger as his grip tightens, and you feel Eddie moving in at your back- to do what exactly, hard to say, ‘cuz Lenny’s got about 60 pounds on the lanky DM- but just as fast as the tension has ramped up, it gets diffused with the arrival of one Steve Harrington from around the corner of the house.
He cuts a smooth path through the grass to your other side, Robin’s sweater slung over one arm, twirling his car keys in neat loops around his finger, boasting a casual demeanor that doesn’t match up with the steely look he’s giving Lenny. “You heard the girl, Baker. Time to am-scray.”
Whether it’s the rumors of Steve’s nail bat or the manic look in your eyes or the fact that he’s outnumbered, Lenny’s got plenty of reason now to drop your arm.
Which he does, spitting one last “bitch” at you before hulking off into the night.
The anger in you recedes like a wave. You breathe out a dry laugh, then turn back to the boys, clasping your hands over your heart with faux-dopeyness. “My heroes. How will I ever repay you?”
“Shutting up, for a change, would be a great start,” Steve grouses over the sound of Eddie’s cackles.
“Holy shit. Can’t believe your girl’s feistiness almost landed me in the hospital.” Eddie shakes his head, plucking a cigarette out and sticking it between his plush lips.
“She’s not my girl,” Steve says, even as you wind your arms around his chest from behind, tucking your chin over his shoulder. “She is, unfortunately, my problem.”
“I love when you two talk about me like I’m not here.” You simper at Eddie from your draped position.
He’s watching you with a fondness that feels overly familiar, through the haze of smoke streaming from his nostrils as you pat the chest beneath your hands- “Don’t worry about ol’ Stevie boy. He’s turned into quite the good guard dog after the whole Russian mall takeover last year.”
“Aaaaand that’s enough talking from you,” Steve says firmly, twisting out of your arms and putting his own around your waist. “Say goodbye to your new buddy, we’ve got a Robin to collect.”
As Steve steers you towards the direction of his car you wave at Eddie, a motion that he returns, his rings glinting in the porch light.
“Christ, you really are somethin’ else with some drinks in you,'' Steve fusses, helping you into the backseat, hand shooting up to block the door frame before your head can collide with the metal. “Did you seriously have to bring up the Russians?”
“He probably thought it was a joke, Steve,” you say, exasperated and fighting the twisted middle seatbelt with uncoordinated hands. “You know… those things that you tell people when you wanna get in their pants?”
The crack was aimed at Steve’s recent string of strike-outs in the dating department, but he throws it back at you. “You’re trying to get in Eddie Munson’s pants?”
“No,” you sputter, indignant and feeling suddenly too hot.
Steve knocks your still-struggling hands from the belt, clicking you in himself, before pointing an accusatory finger in your face. “Stay here while I get Robin, and no throwing up in the Beemer.”
He shuts the door, Robin’s sweatshirt hanging from one shoulder while he stalks back into the house.
You let your head fall back against the seat and close your eyes, bright cherry embers of cigarettes between lush-lipped curves dancing behind the dark of your lids.
___
You manage to avoid throwing up in the BMW, saving the worst of it for the downstairs toilet of the Harrington house after Steve drags you and Robin indoors. Once your body is purged of the spirits, you collapse into your usual side of the guest bed, sweaty and exhausted, murmuring an apology to Robin who squeaks at the rocking movement of the mattress. In a few minutes, you’re lulled to sleep by the gentle snores of your best friend.
The morning sun is a very rude awakening, Robin apparently having forgotten to close the blinds before leaving with Steve for their shifts at Family Video. There’s a full glass of water on the bedside table and a few loose Tylenol tablets, the word “DRINK” sprawled on a sticky note in Steve’s handwriting.
You wince, down the meds along with half the water, and start the search for your sneakers.
When you’d signed up to protect a bunch of teens at the end of the world awhile back, it had seemed like a one-time gig. But now, here you were a few years later, loading yourself into your curb-parked junker to willingly cart around the same kids.
While wearing yesterday’s clothes. Even with the sprays of cologne that you’d stolen from Steve’s dresser, you’re pretty sure you’ll be fooling no one.
Evidenced by your first stop in east Hawkins for Dustin Henderson, who clambers into the front seat with a scathing appraisal. “Rough night?”
“You could say that,” you reply, shifting the gear to drive and grimacing at the subsequent squeal of metal that pierces into your left temple. “Learn from my mistakes as a washed-up twenty-something and cool it on the teen drinking, all right?”
“Washed up though you may be,” Dustin intones sagely, digging through his backpack and producing two brown-paper bundles, “you are now one Claudia Henderson Breakfast Sandwich Deluxe richer.”
You take the proffered sandwich gratefully, steering with one hand to peel back the oil-stained paper from the still-warm bread. “God. Is your mom looking to adopt?”
“She’s kind of got the perfect child already, but I’ll keep my ear to the ground for ya,” Dustin says around a mouthful of cheese and egg.
The solid breakfast helps your stomach ease back into a place of normality, but with your next stop adding two more kids to the mix, the rowdy bickering that follows puts that Tylenol to work.
“You’re an idiot,” Max is saying to Lucas over the sound of his indignation in the back seat. “You seriously think Indiana Jones would win against Supergirl? She can shapeshift, and she has heat vision.”
“All I’m saying is, it’s really hard to see a whip coming.” Lucas is stretching the limits of his seatbelt in his earnestness to get his girlfriend on his side.
It doesn’t work- Max rolls her eyes and taps at your shoulder. “Help me out here. His logic is totally shit, right?”
Making a turn onto the main road, you nod your assent without looking back. “I think you should listen to your very smart girlfriend, Lucas.”
Max makes a triumphant “hah”, and Dustin adds fuel to the argument’s fire when he drags in some other comic book character that you’ve never heard of.
You hazard a glance in your rear-view mirror at Max, who’s too busy dishing out an enthusiastic rebuttal to notice. Her auburn braids swing with the movement of the car, and you wonder if they were done by her mother before work or if Max had to rely on her own hair expertise again.
You’ve got a real soft spot for Max, always have. While you both have plenty of cause to bond over shitty home lives, it’s also Max’s brash and defiant attitude that drew you to her. She’s got the bravery you can only hope for, something that you are sure to tell her frequently, even though the compliment is hard for her to take.
You score a parking spot that’s right in front of the arcade, calling after the kids already scrambling out of your car that you want to leave at noon, sharp. They all give some form of distracted acknowledgement before disappearing into the building, so you figure the earliest you'll be getting out of here is noon-thirty.
Not like you have much to do today, anyways, besides bother Steve and Robin at work- since the arcade is conveniently located right next to Family Video, it’s a perfect excuse to wait out the kids’ spring break activities in the company of your nearest and dearest.
You’re cutting a swift track up the sidewalk when you nearly collide with Eddie Munson, for the second time in less than 24 hours.
“Hey!” He beams at you, a wide, easy thing that fits on his face so well, like it was made to be there, boyish dimples digging in. “Long time no see.”
“Yeah,” you agree, trying to smile back but probably landing somewhere in the grimace region as memories of last night float to the forefront of your mind. Small talk. You can do it. Say something. “Um. Were you getting a movie?”
“Nah.” Eddie shakes his head, hooks a thumb at the Family Video doors behind himself. “Keith’s one of my regulars. That guy might actually smoke more weed than me.”
You hum mildly to show you’re still paying attention but really you’re looking at Eddie’s hair, dark curls that shift with each of his movements. His hair isn’t black, like you’ve been led to believe this whole time- with the morning light shining through, highlighting the halo frizz around the edges, it’s actually a deep, chocolatey brown.
Similar to his eyes. Which are trained on you. Because you haven’t talked in a weird amount of time and are now just openly ogling his hair.
Before you can open your mouth to apologize Eddie asks, “You wanna smoke?”
You nod, perhaps a tad too enthusiastically, and then stretch on your tiptoes to peer around Eddie’s frame at the Family Video sign. “Yeah, but we gotta be fast unless you want the Wonder Twins joining us.”
His grin slips into a smirk, and he winks before taking your hand in his. “A quickie, then.”
That fluttering thing in your ribs is back. The metal of Eddie’s rings are cool against your palm as he leads you around the side of the building, dropping your hand once you both are leaned up against the red brick.
Trying not to outright stare again, you watch from the fringes of your vision as Eddie lights up and breathes a cloud of smoke into the air. His nails are painted black- they weren’t last night. An image of him- hunched over a kitchen table, tongue sticking out of those pillowy lips in concentration, a nail polish brush held in his long fingers- flits across your mind.
Eddie holds the cigarette out, filter-side towards you, and you shake your head lightly. “No thanks. I don’t actually smoke, I just wanted to talk to you.”
Eddie glows. Before he gets the wrong idea you start explaining, arms crossing tight over your chest in unconscious defense- “I wanted to talk about last night. And say I’m sorry. I’m not usually so…”
“Badass? Charming? Hot?” Eddie fills in when you trail off, taking in another deep drag of smoke.
Christ. You feel heat rushing from head to toe as you ward off his flattery, nails nipping into your upper arms. “I was gonna say… talkative? I guess? I’m normally not one to pick fights, but Lenny was being a dick and I don’t like the way he treats the kids, or you, for that matter, and I was drunk and mouthy but that’s not an excuse to drag you into it and I’m sorry-”
“Hey, hey.” Eddie’s tone is soothing, low, cutting smoothly into your feverish confession. He reaches out and strokes the back of his knuckle across your hand, tiny half-moons from your nails leaving their impression as you soften your grasp on yourself.
He doesn’t seem to mind that you can’t look anywhere but at your sneakers planted in the gravel as he says, “You have nothing to apologize for, sweetheart. I’m a big boy, I can handle myself when it comes to dickwads like Lenny Baker. And I would say that rescuing fair maidens is part of my job description, but…”
Eddie stubs the half-smoked cigarette out against the brick, flicks it to the ground, and waits until you look up at him again before saying “You don’t seem like you’re in need of any saving.”
That flutter, again, as you hold his eye contact for as long as you can stand it.
The corner of his mouth quirks up. “There she is.”
Mortified, you resist the urge to scream into your hands as you push off from the brick, instead squeezing them into fists at your sides. “Oh-kay. Well. I better head inside or Robin will send out the search party for me.”
Eddie lets you walk past him, but just before you turn the corner he says, “I’m across from the Mayfields in Forest Hills if you ever want some company. Or some good weed.”
Footfalls from his thick-heeled boots recede into the distance, and you take a minute to calm your breathing before pushing your way through the doors of Family Video.
Steve’s stocking a shelf of New Releases at the front of the store, vest-clad torso faced away as the bell above the door signals your entrance. On autopilot he monologues, “Welcome to Family Video, let us know how we can be of service.”
“Aw, I miss the days when you were forced to say Ahoy, mateys!” You tease, Steve turning to give you an irritated frown as you prop your hip against the register counter.
Robin clacks away on the computer, hitting the Enter key a little harder than necessary as she says, “You’re about one mall fire and a bajillion NDA’s too late to ever hear that shit again.”
Keith must be lurking around in the back office, ‘cuz the three of you only refer to last year’s cataclysmic series of events as a “mall fire” when you’re talking in code.
Or if you’re trying to be funny. But based on the dark circles under Robin’s eyes and the harried way Steve’s shoving a hand through his hair as he drifts towards the counter, you surmise that the three of you are very much on the same page this morning with regards to humor and hijinks.
“I didn’t know it was possible to be this hungover,” Robin groans, sinking her hand into a torn-open Skittles bag and popping a handful into her mouth. “Sugar is supposed to help, right?”
You snort, fiddling with a stack of paper brochures as Steve leans against the counter.
“Had any more run-ins with the town riffraff?” He asks, feigning casual, honey-colored eyes roaming around the shop.
“I’m visiting you, aren’t I?” You shoot back, unreasonably defensive.
“Another point for the pretty lady, and Harrington strikes a zero,” Robin totals in her best sports broadcasting voice. “What the hell are you talking about, Steve?”
“Drinky McGee over here was spilling her guts last night to none other than Edward Munson,” Steve replies, looking satisfied when Robin’s eyes bug dramatically.
“Eddie?” Robin hops off the stool, sliding her hands from the other side of the counter to stop your own from ripping the brochures to shreds. “And what, pray tell, were you spilling about with Eddie Muson?”
“Nothing.” You pull your hands from Robin’s, rolling your eyes as if the stakes are low, when in fact the stakes are as tall as the Empire State Building. You can practically hear the wind whistling from this height. “I wasn’t… we barely talked. He was backing me up when some jock started messing with me. That’s all.”
Robin whirls on Steve with animosity- “You left her alone long enough for some meathead to get involved? Jesus, Steve, the hell is wrong with you?”
“Like you shacking up with Vickie after two Tears for Fears tracks is any more responsible!” Steve snaps.
Having spent enough time with both your friends to know their propensity towards petty arguments, you slap a hand against the counter to derail. “Hey! Both of you knock it off. It’s fine, I’m fine, we survived yet another night out on the town unscathed. Let’s just… drop it.”
Steve looks properly chastised, but Robin gets a glint in her eye that confirms she’s not thrown off the scent so easily.
“You know what they call him, right?” she asks you, lowering her raspy voice even further.
“Eddie The Freak Munson,” Steve supplies, but shrinks noticeably when Robin gives him a withering look. “...not that, then?”
“Of course you, Steve The Hair Harrington, would only know him by that name.” Robin shakes her head, disapproving, before turning back to you with a wicked grin. “Word on the street holds Eddie The Munch Munson in very high regard.”
Steve scoffs at this, but you blink, uncomprehending. “Munch, like… he eats a lot of food?”
You feel very suddenly and violently ganged up on when Steve and Robin give you mirrored quizzical looks.
“No, babe,” Robin says, slowly. “Munch as in he eats pussy.”
“Jesus christ.” Heat courses through you as you scan the empty store, even as Steve chuckles and says, “You really are a prude.”
A skittle sails airborne into the side of his temple and he flinches, Robin coming to your aid. “That’s no way to talk to a lady, Steven.”
“I’m so not a prude.” You’re quick to jump to your own defense. “I just… didn’t know what that meant.”
You’d had a boyfriend for 6 months your sophomore year of high school, Ben- nice enough guy, but you’d mostly dated as an excuse to get all your firsts out of the way. Some laid-back hookups have occurred since then- it’s not like you’ve been chaste all these years, for fuck’s sake.
But you certainly wouldn’t give any of those boys a prize-winning nickname for their ability to eat you out.
“It’s all baseless gossip, right?” Steve grabs a nearby wheeled cart and pushes it to the New Releases, resuming his shelf stocking. “I mean, what the hell else are small-townies good for other than trading lies like baseball cards.”
“I dunno,” Robin says, thoughtfully, sucking at her front teeth. “If the token lesbian is hearing about it, then he’s gotta be some sort of sex god.”
Steve’s making a snarky comeback, but you can’t hear him over the whistling in your ears.
You stare blankly out at the parking lot, one hand absently crunching at a brochure, trying really hard to think of anything but those plush lips and all the places you want them.
____
Ever since the events of last year ripped a hole in your found family’s world, you make it a weekly habit to visit Max.
You’re always armed with some excuse- made too much pasta, please take it off my hands and put this tupperware in your fridge; I was on my way to the thrift store and thought I’d stop by, wanna come with and help me pick out some new jeans?- so that it’s harder for Max to deny your company. Slowly, over the last handful of months, by way of secondhand book offerings and slices of leftover pizza, Max has let her guard down enough to let you in.
Even on days like today, when her demeanor suggests active disdain (calling you “mom” with a caustic bite when you ask after her last meal, rolling her eyes when she finds you doing the leftover sink dishes), you don’t take it personal. Her coldness towards little acts of kindness is due to the shitty way other people have failed her. And plus, you’ve put in enough effort to be able to see the warm side of Max Mayfield.
Like now, for instance- she’s giving you a bone-crushing hug on your way out, freshly-braided hair pressed tight to your sternum as you hug her back and sway in the doorway. The hug is quick and fierce, over in seconds as she slips back into practiced indifference
“Stay out of trouble this week and I’ll buy you a pony,” you joke as she pulls away, and the smile that she cracks makes it all worth it.
“Make it a racehorse and you’ve got yourself a deal,” she says, giving you a small wave before closing her front door.
You walk down the dirt path to your parked car, keys in hand. Tonight’s schedule is that of a responsible, sensible young adult- the classified ads on your desk at home need trawling through, and a laundry pile the size of Hoosier Hill waits expectantly on your floor.
But there’s this crawling under your skin, a feeling that tends to flare up every so often, a craving for some sort of release gnawing at the edges. Usually the cure is sad music and masturbation, or some of Steve’s parents’ wine and a cheesy romcom.
Or weed. That tends to work, too.
You’re shoving your keys into the pocket of your denim jacket and walking across the way to Eddie’s trailer before you lose your nerve, scuffing your sneakers against his porch while you knock.
He looks surprised to see you, dark brows raised, leaning into the palm he’s got on the doorframe- “Oh shit. Hi.”
“Hi,” you reply, tracking one foot up the back of your calf, feeling timid under his gaze. “Do you… can I buy some weed?”
When he nods, you duck under his arm and drop to one knee on the carpeted floor to untie your laces.
“Shit, sweetheart, don’t go to all that trouble.” He lets the door close, enveloping you both in the moody lighting of his trailer. There’s a radio playing the local rock station dimly from one of the bedrooms, and as you toe off your shoes you notice a gleaming black guitar leaned upright against the couch.
“Do you play?” You drift over on sock feet to gently brush across the strings, a faint and discordant noise rising and fading underneath your fingertips.
“Yeah.” Eddie’s voice comes from just over your shoulder as he watches your gentle fingers on his prized possession. “I’m in a band, actually. You should come see us play sometime.”
“That’s cool,” you say earnestly. “I remember when you got in trouble for that talent show performance- your band was totally swindled out of first place, if you ask me.”
When he doesn’t respond right away, you hazard a look at him over your shoulder and find him staring at you again, something you’re still not used to, giggling out a little “What?” as his eyes stay on your face.
“You’re pretty, that’s all.” The Dio logo on the front of his tee ripples when he shrugs a shoulder. As if he knew it would embarrass you, he leaves no room for your disagreement, turning away into the kitchen, stretching tall for the metal lunchbox on the top of his fridge.
His shirt lifts with the stretch, a flash of stomach lined with a trail of dark hair that makes you swallow back the gathering saliva in your mouth.
“So, weed,” he’s saying as he pops the lid on the box, shaking out a small bag of fuzzy-looking green clumps. “I can set you up with a couple of days’ worth, if you want.”
“That sounds good,” you reply, mustering courage to drift to Eddie’s side, pretending to assess the baggie he’s holding, committing to memory the way his long fingers deftly pluck apart bud from stem. “That way I can come back and buy more.”
His fingers pause, halfway to the metal grinder nestled in the lunchbox as he says, “You know, you don’t need to use weed as an excuse to come see me. I think we’ve already established I like lookin’ at ya, so you’d be doing me a favor if you came by more. Just to hang out.”
This offer sits between you as he grinds the weed down, then tips a stripe of it neatly across some rolling paper. His dexterous fingers pinch and tuck until a joint takes shape, a small strip of the paper poking out.
He holds it to your lips, brown eyes shimmering with warmth as he waits.
A Stevie Nicks song starts up on the radio, muffled by the trailer walls but crooning through all the same. This close to Eddie for the first time, you can smell him- balmy and spicy, like bergamot and Irish Spring.
You lean into the joint, licking across the paper in one unbroken motion. Your tongue catches on Eddie’s thumb when you pull away, and there’s a salt-warm taste that settles in your mouth.
“Good girl,” he says, in that low-toned voice, and you have to fight to keep your thighs from pressing together in your jeans.
“Wanna smoke here?” Eddie smooths the spit-damp end of the joint down, giving the end a twist. “Good way to test out the merchandise. First one’s free.”
You shake your head as he extends the joint- “I’m definitely paying you, Eddie. And no, I can’t smoke here.” With you being the unspoken addition to that sentence.
“Aw, shucks, sweetheart,” he drawls, devilish grin creeping back in, “You don’t trust me?”
“It’s not you I don’t trust,” you admit, before you can stop yourself.
His brows shoot up again, then waggle, obscenely. “Afraid I’m gonna be too tempting to resist once you’re in the clutches of the Green Dragon?”
Something like that, you think, wryly, but that fluttering is back and you really want to shut it up, so against your sensible, better judgment, you take the joint from Eddie’s hand.
“Got a light?”
You haven’t smoked in over a month, and with your tolerance so low two hits is all it takes to get you sprawled out on the living room floor, arms akimbo like you’re making a carpet snow angel.
Eddie’s a bit more restless in his high, plucking melodious and listless tunes from the couch with his guitar, one foot propped on the coffee table near your head.
Feeling loose-limbed and confident, you stare unabashed up at Eddie. He’d put his hair into a low bun, earlier, and there are a few dark tendrils swinging free around his neck with the rocking movements of his body to the music.
He hits a snag, string buzzing out a dissonant noise. “Can’t focus with you lookin’ at me.”
“Sorry,” you murmur, except you’re not at all. “Now you know how I feel all the time.”
He sticks his tongue out at you, your girlish tittering in answer; you pat the carpet beside your hip. “Come lay with me.”
His body responds easily to your request; Eddie props the guitar back up against the couch and stretches out next to you with a sigh, a wave of that smokey sweet smell coming with him.
Under your weed-filtered view, the popcorn ceiling above you is moving, whorling and undulating in the muted light. You’re feeling gutsy and sure of yourself as you ask aloud, “Do you really think I’m pretty?”
Your head turns so you can meet Eddie’s eyes, which are dancing across your face- cheek to lips to nose back up to eyes- and he doesn’t make a joke, this time, his words coming with weighty seriousness.
“Yeah, I do. I think you’re beautiful. Always have.”
“Always?” Your echo is a soft and seeking thing.
“Yeah, always,” he confirms, simply, as if it’s a fact of life. “Woulda made a move sooner, but you always seemed so…”
“Unapproachable? Aloof? Bitchy?” You fill the gap in his speech with adjectives that have been used to characterize you in the past- usually by boys in the heat of an argument over inconsequential things that have been lost to time, only the labels sticking around.
Eddie gives you a reproachful look. “No. I was gonna say, you seemed like you were always in your own world.”
This throws you for a loop. Neck on a swivel, you look back up at the ceiling as Eddie continues.
“I wanted to get to know you more, but I’ll be the first to admit I was intimidated by you. I mean, you’re way out of my league-” Eddie ignores the sardonic snort you give to this- “-and I just assumed asking you out would've ended with an epic crash and burn.”
The ceiling stops swaying, and you swivel back to hold Eddie’s eyes again, the weed making honesty easy. “I always kinda thought you were beautiful, too.”
Awash with the bravery that only comes from being in an altered state, you keep the momentum that’s aided by Eddie’s soft smile and push up on your elbows.
“I know what they call you.”
Eddie blinks up at you, then slowly, slowly, pushes himself up onto his elbows too. “Yeah?”
It’s a taunt, a dare, an I bet you won’t.
Shows how much he knows. When you’re drunk or stoned, he’d be hard pressed to find a bet you can’t win.
You say it, unwavering. “Eddie The Munch Munson.”
His lips fall open, leaning in towards you as if drawn by a magnet, and you think he’s gonna kiss you until he falls back against the carpet, scrubbing his hands down his face. “Shit. Fuck. We can’t do this.”
“Why not?” You’re a little taken aback, ‘cuz while it’s not an outright rejection, Eddie’s upping the drama, hands pressed into the sockets of his eyes, groaning as he tips into your side.
With his forehead pressed into the curve of your shoulder, he says softly, “I think we’re both a little too stoned to be thinking clearly. And I really, really want you to think clearly when it comes to this.”
“Comes to what?” You’re egging him on now, trailing your fingers up his bicep, coy and angelic.
He rolls away from you, making a pained noise with his face smushed into the carpet before pushing himself off the ground. “You know what, princess. New topic, for the love of god. You hungry?”
You are, actually, and when he extends his hand to help you up, you take it.
Eddie whips up a box of mac and cheese while you sit on a counter nearby, conversation engaging and fluid as he cooks.
Between interjections of ‘scuse me, angel, gotta get into this cabinet and can you take over stirring for a sec? you answer all his questions. You tell him your favorite bands, the states you’d visited on a road trip when you were six, even giving him the whole “my mom’s a nice enough person but we don’t get along” spiel that you don’t usually get to until a third date.
If that’s even what this is. He’s scooping steaming noodles into two bowls, passing you one, leaning up against the counter closest to the one you’re sat on. Your knee rubs against his ribcage as you eat.
In between chews, he lets you ask about himself- his favorite bands, the states he’s never been but wants to travel to someday, the highlights of his golden years with his mom that he misses every day.
There’s a quiet lull, after your bowls are scraped clean and set aside. He helps you off the counter and tells you to pick out a movie; you load The Black Cauldron into the VCR and settle into the couch cushion.
Eddie puts an arm around you, lets you play with his hands for the bulk of the film, running your nails methodically across his palms.
By the last act of the movie, you can feel your high beginning to fade, taking your courage with it; when the credits roll, you’re ready to call it quits and sleep off the hangover in your own bed.
“You sure you’re okay to drive?” Eddie asks, following after you as you tug your sneakers back on in the hall.
“Yeah, Eddie, I’ll be good. Thanks for the weed,” you say, pulling your jacket tight around your frame. “And for the- for everything.”
The smile appears again; the one that cuts deep dimples into his cheeks as he watches you step onto his porch.
When he says your name, you turn, keys in hand- “Yeah?”
Leaning into the doorframe like he had earlier, he cants his head, streetlight a warm glow across his cheeks. “You wanna know where I got my nickname, you come back in a few days. Sleep on it tonight.” And then he closes the door.
___
So, technically, he told you to come back in a few days, and showing up less than 24 hours later has to hint at being some sort of desperate.
Which, fuck it, you kinda are, at this point. Frankly it’s a miracle you’ve lasted this long what with the whole being plagued with visions of Eddie Munson’s hands and lips and hair and that stupid fucking nickname every waking and dreaming hour you’ve spent apart.
While you can appreciate the honorable nature of Eddie asking you to make a clear-headed decision, you’re wishing for a hundred things to take the edge off as you change out of the PJ’s you’ve been moping in all day.
Black tights stretch over your calves as you think of the whiskey you mom keeps hidden in the downstairs cabinet; denim miniskirt smoothed over your hips as you long for a deep hit of weed; hands shakily plucking your black tanktop into place as the urge to be anything but sober gets swallowed down.
You make the ten minute drive to Forest Hills in silence (relative to the weird engine noises your hunk of metal car decides to make), wracking your brain for silver-tongued excuses but instead drawing blank after blank.
By the time you’re rolling to a stop in front of Eddie’s trailer, you still have no idea what you’re gonna say to him- only that something needs to be said. Max is at the Sinclair’s for the night, one less person to worry about witnessing you slamming your car door shut and walking right up to Eddie on his front steps.
He’s wearing a pair of overalls, grease-stained, shirtless underneath- the tail end of a larger ink piece peeking out against his ribs. There’s a lone bike tire on the ground, held steady by the spokes his boot rests on as he wrenches the middle hub, biceps rippling and flexing with each movement.
Certainly a sight that would have stopped you in your tracks, on any other day. But you’re determined to have it out with the returning wingbeat behind your navel, planting your Converse in the gravel just before the first step that Eddie’s sat on.
He doesn’t seem surprised to see you this time, instead giving you a lazy smile on a half-tilt, wiping the tire oil from his hands onto the front of his overalls.
“What brings a fair maiden such as yourself to this ugly neck of the woods?” Eddie leans the tire up against the steps and rises to greet you.
You’re gonna lose what little nerve you have left if he touches you so you act quick, speaking as you cross your arms- “I need to tell you a few things.”
That stops him up short, just a few feet away as he inclines his head, hair loose around his bare shoulders. “I’m nothin’ but ears.”
A wet, rattling breath catches in your chest. You give a cursory scan around to confirm that the rest of the trailer park citizens are indoors, soft lights from rows of windows luminous against the darkening twilight sky.
“I have a… a thing,” you start, unsure of where to begin, really wishing you’d come up with a polished script on the ride over instead of being forced to flounder through for the right dialogue. “It started last year. With the mall fire?”
When Eddie nods his understanding, you continue, in short starts and bursts, like you’re fighting with the words before they come out.
“Something… happened. To Robin, and Steve, and to- to me. It was really bad, for awhile, and then it got better, but I’m still…” your hands squeeze tight into the flesh of your upper arms, nails stinging. “I’m fucked up from it. And the only way I can talk about it is if I’m fucked up, too. S’why I can only hold a conversation when I’m drunk or flirt while I’m high, like there’s this bad thing inside of me that I can’t look at when I’m sober-”
There’s a frantic edge that’s slipped in to your voice and Eddie steps towards you, as if to soothe, but you’re not ready to give in yet so you take a step back, choking out the last few words- “I just- I wish I could tell you everything, but I can’t, not yet, and I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.”
From somewhere in the forest behind, a bright chorus of crickets swells as you fix your focus on the ground, as Eddie’s boots crunch forward on the gravel, toe-to-toe with your sneakers.
He moves carefully, as if worried that you’ll spook- lightly brushing his fingers across yours, drawing your awareness to the fact that your nails are dangerously close to drawing blood, a sigh as you release.
“Thank you for telling me.” Unlike your own voice, his is low and sure as his thumbs brush against the red half-moons in your arms. “You’re really brave, you know that?”
He doesn’t leave room for you to dispute this, instead tracing the underside of your jaw with his knuckle, forcing you to hold his gaze, those deep brown eyes soft with empathy as he says, “I don’t have any expectations of you, ‘kay? I’ll be all ears when you need me to be, but you don’t have to spill all your secrets every time you come around. You wanna just watch shitty cartoons and keep my couch warm, that’s fine by me. Nothin’ else needs to happen.”
And it’s his acknowledgement of your admission, his softhearted way of letting you know that nothing needs to happen, that makes you brave.
Brave enough to tilt your chin into the lift of his finger as you say, “I didn’t just come here to apologize.”
You watch his Adam’s apple bob against the taut vein in his neck as he swallows, hard.
“Yeah?”
When you nod, Eddie blows out a breath and turns on his heel, motioning you to follow him up the stairs.
Your eagerness is obvious as you scramble up the steps after him, heart starting to thrum in tandem with the flutters as he shuts his front door behind the both of you.
“Take your shoes off,” is all he says, in a low, strained voice, before turning into the kitchen.
Obedient, you drop to one knee and jerk apart your sneaker laces with trembling hands.
Now on nyloned feet, you step onto the linoleum tile of Eddie’s kitchen. He’s faced away from you at the sink, taut lines of his shoulders rising and falling as he washes his hands.
“You’re sober?” He asks, still at the sink, drying his hands on a patterned teatowel.
When you realize he can’t see your nod, you speak- “Yes. Yeah. As a judge.”
A soft exhale through his nose, amused, as he finally turns to face you. Eddie’s eyes do that hypnotizing dance- skipping from your chin to your eyes to your lips back up again- and you let him, feeling exposed to the point of nakedness with the intensity of his focus.
“I want to hear you say it.”
The sentence winds through the air, joins the wings in your stomach, sits low in your belly as you shift your weight from side to side, a gentle rock to ease your flayed-alive nerves.
You say it. “I want your mouth.”
Eddie takes a step closer, nearly toe-to-toe with you again. Over the familiar layer of bergamot and fresh hand soap he smells like the outdoors, and faintly of mechanic oil, hearty and wild.
“Where?” It’s a single word, but with so much weight- suggestive, a taunt, an offer.
You breathe him in, eyes fluttering closed, ‘cuz brave as you’ve been it’s still hard to say some things while looking at him. “Want your mouth… on me.”
He crowds into your space, one hand gliding smoothly to set against your waist, the other fitted against your neck, tapping a thumb to your lips.
You part them, passive and wanting, but he doesn’t press his finger to the pad of your tongue like you’d hoped. Instead, he lets his thumb stroke to the corner of your mouth to make room for his own.
“Where?” he asks again, this time into your mouth. You can feel the tip of his nose graze yours, pinpricks of his hair tickling your cheeks.
“Please,” is all you manage this time, awash with heat when you feel his smile form.
“S’okay, sweetheart. I’ll work you up to it.” It’s a touch condescending, skirting that fine line between tease and mean, the same tone of voice that has your thighs pressing together.
And then, he gives you what you asked for. His plush lips- the ones that you’ve been fantasizing about for what feels like eons- are pressing against yours.
It’s a kiss that starts chaste, tender, but soon devolves into a heady, fevered thing when you push your tongue past the seam of his lips. He melts into you, using the hand he has on your face to keep you steady as he sucks your bottom lip into his mouth, grazing his teeth into the plush of it before going back to twining his tongue with yours.
There’s an audible wet click as he pulls away, both of your chests heaving in the quiet that follows; Eddie rests his forehead against yours briefly to catch his breath, and then he’s tugging you down the hall and into his room.
It’s pleasantly messy and lived-in, posters and photographs taking up most of the walls, guitar cables snaking and criss-crossing atop his dresser. You take a seat on the bed, hands tightening into the flannel duvet while Eddie begins to undo the buttons of his overall straps.
Wholly fascinated, you watch as he pushes the thick material from his body and kicks it to the side, leaving him in just his guitar pick necklace and a simple pair of black boxers. Now on full display, you drink in the sight of the most skin you’ve ever seen of his- tattoos at his chest and arms dark against the rest of him, pale and gleaming softly in the yellow light of the bedside lamp.
You’re trying to figure out if the larger piece on his ribs is a dragon or some other mythological creature when he moves in to sit next to you, his kisses erasing all thoughts.
Eddie’s making these throaty little noises as you kiss; his hands track lines from your hips to your sides to your shoulders, your chest unconsciously pressing into his touch.
When his thumb catches on the outline of your beaded nipple through your shirt, he hisses lightly, drawing back to look at you again- “Is this okay?”
You nod, but he doesn’t seem satisfied with that, tsking as he swipes with his thumb again, watching closely as you react silently to the touch.
“Hard to tell when you’re enjoying yourself if you’re quiet as a churchmouse,” Eddie says, in a tone that’s reminiscent of training a pet. “You gonna let me hear you?”
Your teeth catch on your lower lip as he thumbs across your nipple again, shockwaves coursing into goosebumps as you choke out, “I’m not s-so good at that. Not without- fuck- weed..”
Eddie huffs a laugh, a little derisive but you figure he’s probably got the right, seeing as how you’re this worked up and he’s barely touched you.
“You’re plenty good at this sober, sweetheart. Want me to prove it?”
His hand falls from your breast, extricates one of yours from the covers, and slides it up the meat of his thigh- then to the front of his boxers.
The first noise you make for him is a small gasp, one that matches his own as you cup your palm over the thick jut of his hard cock.
“Told you,” he says, sounding strung-out, his hand still closed around your wrist, “You’re doin’ just fine at working me up.”
You wrap your fingers around the bulge as best you can with the fabric of his boxers separating skin from skin, gaining confidence to explore as his grip on your wrist loosens. The black ink at his ribs expands and shrinks with the bellows of his breath, jolting and stuttering with each stroke of your hand.
Just as he’s drawing in a breath to speak, tightening his hold around your wrist in warning, you still your movements. Delicately, slowly, you slide out of his grasp and take his wrist in your hand, placing his palm on your own thigh.
The whole “reciprocating pleasure with sound” is still a hard one to give in to; maybe you can compensate for your hesitancy by showing instead of telling. You guide his hand up, into your skirt, parting your thighs until his fingers find the wetness soaking through both your panties and tights.
“Fucking… jesus.” Eddie moves with the fluid surety that you lack, middle finger running up the seam of your clothed pussy, your hips jerking reflexively when he catches against your clit. “This all for me, princess?”
In answer, you lean to bury your face into the crook of Eddie’s neck. He lets you, taking the opportunity to hook your leg over his thigh, spreading you out as much as your fitted denim skirt will allow.
You pant into the column of his throat as he strokes you through the light layers, the fabrics grinding friction into your clit caught under his fingertip. He rests his chin on the crown of your head, cooing praises that have your stomach muscles tensing.
“That’s it, good girl, such a good girl for me.”
Your clit is throbbing now as he rubs you in small, quick circles, and you’re so close to falling over the edge that you have to pull his hand away.
Eddie picks up on your unspoken plea; he tugs the skirt down your hips then tosses it blindly over his shoulder, reaching for the edge of your tights. He slips them down your thighs, your calves, peeling them off you with reverence. When all that’s left is your best pair of satin panties, he maneuvers you up against the headboard and stretches himself flat on his stomach, nose pressing into your core.
That heat has come back, flashing through you with a vengeance as Eddie mouths at your pussy through the satin, sloppily but with purpose enough to have your cunt clenching around nothing.
You stay up on your elbows, watching that mane of dark hair bracketed by your thighs, but when Eddie pulls your underwear down and off your ankle your weight falls back against the mattress.
The flat of his tongue licks a wide stripe from your weeping hole up to spread the wetness around your clit. When he sucks the bundle of nerves into his mouth, your head presses back into the covers, hands grappling above you for something to anchor your grasp.
When Eddie flicks the point of his tongue against that bright spot of nerves your hands find a pillow to grip, and when he moans into your pussy the vibrations have you instinctively pulling the pillow against your face, teeth biting into the fluff, masking the whine that would have been loud in the otherwise quiet room.
You think you might be able to get away with this setup (what with Eddie seemingly focused on making you explode into a million little pieces) but there’s a sharp smack before the outer skin of your thigh is burning, white-hot from the kiss of his rings.
Eddie’s mouth leaves you only for the time it takes for him to rip the pillow from your grasp and scold, “Uh uh, none of that, c’mon,” and then he’s back at your clit, suckling with renewed vengeance.
There are little stars bursting at the edges of your vision, your hands shooting down to grip at Eddie’s hair when he pistons the point of his tongue against you again. Your hips are subtly bucking into his mouth, shaking thighs involuntarily closing around his ears. Normally you’d be concerned about Eddie’s air intake but going off the moans he’s burying in your pussy, you’d hazard a guess that he’s really into it.
As if in confirmation, he pulls off your clit with a wet pop, laving his tongue up the junction where thigh meets pelvis, voice sounding wrecked- “Doin’ so good, sweetheart. Fuck, you got me so hard. Gonna blow a load in my boxers like a teenager, y’taste so good. Gonna let me hear you? Hm? Wanna hear you.”
You’re dizzy with want as you prop yourself on your elbows again, mouth falling open as Eddie sinks two of his fingers up to the ringed knuckle inside your velvet walls.
His other hand comes to rest on the soft curve of your stomach, pinning you in place, before he looks up at you, black pupils nearly eclipsing the chocolate brown.
“What do you want?” he asks again, patiently, as if he doesn’t have two fingers nestled inside your cunt.
Your efforts to grind into him are stopped with his firm hold on your middle, and he tuts at you again- but instead of a reprimand, he seems to soften a bit.
“C’mon, angel,” Eddie says, with such tenderness that makes tears prick at the corner of your eyes. He presses his lips to the inside of your thigh before encouraging, “Lemme hear you say it, and I’ll make it so good for you. Promise.”
“Want you to make me come. Please.” Your voice is unsteady, but it’s audible enough.
Eddie rewards you by sinking his fingers further, to the hilt, heel of his palm catching against your clit. When you let out a warbling moan, he nods- “That’s it,”- before setting a steady rhythm for fucking his fingers up into you.
“Fuck, Eddie- fu-uck…” you’re trying, really trying to stay in the moment and not get caught up in the noises you’re making- for him.
When Eddie reattaches his mouth to your throbbing clit and angles his fingers to hit into that soft, spongy spot with each thrust, you feel waves of pleasure start to wash through you. There’s just time for a choked “Shit, Eddie, you’re gonna make me cum,” before you’re spasming around his fingers.
Somehow, you manage to stay on your elbows, bracing your body through the convulsive shocks, white-hot stars joining the wingbeat rhythm as Eddie takes you apart with his mouth and fingers.
He moans, long and low, fucking you through it and then some- your orgasm has been completely wrung out when you push at his forehead, whimpering at the overstimulation.
“No, baby, one more, please. Gimme one more,” Eddie lifts his head to plead with you, sweaty bangs glued to his forehead- and then he’s back between your legs.
It’s this moment that makes you retrospective. Sex with boys, in the past, has always been a quick means to an end: a few minutes of foreplay, tamping down your own pleasure for the sake of blowing off some steam.
But now, pleasure was being given to you in spades by Eddie Munson, and you wanted to give it back to him.
You come on his tongue and fingers, again, stomach tightening beneath his warm palm, and this time you really loose the sounds caught in your chest: a strangled mix of your bliss-soaked whines with his name, Eddie Eddie Eddie.
You feel the bed frame jolt below you both as Eddie’s hips thrust into the mattress in a frenzied tempo.
“Fuck me.” He pulls away, finally, panting into the side of your knee. He rests his head against your leg, lips tinged pink and shining wet, gazing at you with lust-blown eyes. “You are so fucking hot. Holy shit.”
Bashful as your peak wears off, you pull him forward so you don’t have to look at him when you whisper, “Yeah?”
“Yeah, princess,” he says, slumping against your chest and into your arms. “That’s going straight to my long-term spank bank. Number one. For sure.”
You slap playfully at his shoulder, and he rises on his elbows to kiss you- once on the lips, twice on the cheek- warm palms on the outside of your shoulders.
“Are you… d’you need any help?” you ask, reaching to tuck his hair behind his ears, feeling the crush of insecurity leech in. “I dunno if you even- I mean, did you…”
From all the physical activity, your breasts are half-spilled out of your bra, and Eddie bends to kiss at the tops of them, affectionately, shaking his head as he goes. “There is no world in which I would’ve lasted, just now. Very noble of you to assume, though.”
He grins at your giggle, then says- “I dunno about you, but I need some new underwear. Wanna borrow a pair of my boxers? Bet you’d look cute.”
________
Later, when you’re both cleaned up, dressed, and full from a pizza delivery, Eddie invites you outside for a smoke.
You sit with him on the porch couch, legs slung over his, a big flannel blanket shared over both your laps while he smokes with the hand that isn’t on your thigh.
There’s a crunching of wheels on gravel, and Max Mayfield’s bike lamp cuts through the dark.
“Hey, Heavy Metal,” she calls out, undoing her bike helmet and leaning her bike into its kickstand. “Are you done fixing up Lucas’s tires or do I have to keep hauling my ass all the way across town to see him?”
“I’ll have it done tomorrow, Red,” Eddie calls back, giving her a salute.
Halfway to her door, she remarks, “You two are gross, by the way,”
You cross your arms in the sweatshirt Eddie loaned you, slipping into irksome older sister mode easily. “So how’d it go with your boyfriend, tonight, Maxine?”
She flips you both off, but you catch the smile on her face before the front door bangs shut behind her.
Eddie chuckles, smoothing his palm up your thigh, then takes another drag. “You gotta come night smoke with me more often, angel. The streetlights suit you.”
“Gonna get me hooked on nicotine, too?” Your sock foot pokes him in the ribs and he tuts, snapping it up in his free hand and digging his thumb into the arch of your sole.
“Fuck no, your teeth are too pretty to ruin. Want you to come keep me company while I destroy my lungs.”
Another cloud of smoke lifts dreamily around Eddie’s face. His thumb is working wonders on the tense muscle of your foot as you tip your head to rest on the back of the couch. With the nearby streetlamp, his profile is cast in a warm glow; you do a dance of your own, eyes taking in the strong slope of his nose, tracking down to his lips, back up to the wild curls at his temple.
Eddie feels you staring, turns to fix you with a quit it look that you can’t help but laugh at- “What, so you’re the only one who’s allowed to stare?”
“That’s right,” he confirms, leaning forward to set his cig in an ashtray, bullying his way into your space, rings cold under your chin when he tilts your face towards his- “Gotta pay the piper for that obvious violation, sweetheart. Sorry. I don’t make the rules.”
This time, when the flutter within you kicks up, you have a place for it to go- melting softly into Eddie’s lips.
___________________
I wrote the last third of this while blasted please don’t judge too harshly lmao
#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x shy! reader#eddie x reader#eddie munson smut#stranger things fic#eddie munson fic#robin buckley#steve harrington#mdni
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Robin Buckley from st and 9 please
Okay but Bejewelled by Taylor Swift is such a sweet one for Robin haha 💖
(Cw: set in 80s so tiniest mention about society not being super open minded but that’s it, it’s v fluffy)
Robin Buckley x reader
Your girlfriend Robin had had a pretty lousy day yesterday.
She came home nearly screaming, grunting long and hard as she threw her face into your chest as she (just successfully) landed on the sofa and your lap. When you stroked through her blonde hair to ask her what was wrong, she told you about this girl Kelly from her old high school who came to Robin at work and asked her out.
You were a little stunned, blinking and giving a small “Wow” as you kept petting your love’s hair. Robin at least turned her face up from your boobs, glaring up at you with that sharp eyeliner around those shiny blue eyes. Groaning “Uh huh!!” In exasperated agreement.
You were shocked Kelly had even been so blunt to ask, knowing what the townsfolk around here are like, but you lightly massaged Robin’s scalp as you let her explain, vivid hand gestures clanging her bracelets around, and all.
“Steve didn’t know whether to go to the store room, or stay and back me up, but like, I didn’t even know Kelly was gay! And she was always so mean in high school, I didn’t know if she was trying to out me or something.” Robin explained, cut off from her ramblings as she looked up to your huff in suspense at the small noise, cutting off her train of thoughts.
“Oh baby, I’m sorry.” You frown a little, stroking her freckled cheek with the back of your hand where you held her.
Robin just made some vague waving hand gesture, quickly moving on to keep up with what she wanted to tell you. “So yeah I said something like ‘Uhhh... no thanks! Sorry, no, I mean, I won’t tell anyone of fucking course’, goddamn!” Robin sighed annoyed “‘But yeah, sorry, not for me-‘ you know polite crap like that.” Robin looked up at you nodding, and you of course nodded back in solidarity.
“You’re very polite babe.” You sort of half lied, confidently though.
“Yeah! Exactly! But then she went all... mad! And started asking me ‘Ugh, what’s your damage?!’ And saying that I wasn’t hot anyway and she had plenty of dates lined up anyway!” Robin rolled her hands in the air, wafting near your face. “But then, like, why ask me out at all? Asshole! She clearly couldn’t handle me.”
Robin looks up to you, serious eyes from where she lays in your lap. And you can’t lie, sometimes you find the side of Robin that can be confident, mean, sarcastic, that side of her, pretty hot. And with her tone and her expressions right now, she was definitely hitting that part of her personality.
“She wanted you babe.” You nod seriously, and Robin’s blue eyes widen, some pink flushing beneath her freckles as she leans up so fast you have to swerve your head back, now sitting on your lap as she slaps her hands down to her knees, tucking them up with her. “That’s what I’m saying! Plus I wasn’t sure if she actually meant it or not, I mean she was never exactly ‘nice’ to me before.” Robin makes air quotes with her ringed fingers. “And then she turns around and says I’m ugly anyways even though she came to my work to try and pick me up!” Robin scoffs loudly.
And what your girlfriend is saying actually distracts you from the fact that just as much Robin can’t sit in a chair properly, she doesn’t really do the same in your lap either.
“Wait, she called you ugly?” You ask, a big expression of disgust turning on your face now, your hand going straight for the side of Robin’s chest where you can hold her, as it’s your turn to scoff. “Wow, you must’ve really demolished her self esteem Robin babe. I mean, to be fair, who can survive being turned down by you?” You exhale incredulously, pissed off someone would say that to Robin, even though you both knew they were just deflecting, but deciding to turn it around so the both of you could continue slating this complete loser, which is clearly the vibe that was happening right now.
“Right!” Robin throws her hands up one more time, before sighing, and turning her attention to cupping and stroking your face between her long fingers and sharp nails. “Well at least I never had to do that to you.” She smiles, finally feeling as vindicated as she knew she would be, coming home to complain with you.
And you let Robin pull you in for a kiss, that you more than happily joined in with. You let her be her more dom self as you carried her up to your room too. Although you knew Robin wasn’t done. Even if it wasn’t for her staring up at the ceiling in bed, and also stroking her hands kind of evilly.
Robin had a plan in mind. And she was more than happy to wake you up just as you dozed off on her chest, to ask you if you knew if Eddie and Nancy were free tomorrow night also.
One of the first things she did after smacking loads of kisses on your face until you were awake, and after the moment she said hello to you, was running with a blanket wrapped around her into the hallway; just as you’d woken up enough to be about to roll over, and cuddle her.
But it was easy to tell when your girlfriend was on a mission. You hear her saying “Steve! Listen!” But that’s about it, and you’re not surprised she woke him up too, at least it made sense where she was running off to.
You had an idea why she was eager to go talk to Steve, but Robin all but confirmed it for you when she came back, and told you she has a plan.
“That’s great babe.” You said right into the pillow you were face down in, with a pointed thumbs up, literally about to fall asleep again.
But then, Robin’s slender hands were running up your bare shoulder blades that the quilt just wasn’t covering. And you were smiling even before you opened your eyes, as you turned your head so your cheek was laying on the pillow instead, to see Robin standing above you. A different kind of devious smirk on her face and sparkle in her eyes.
Robin had said for you to hang out with Eddie and Nancy maybe, just to have some fun today! Because she needed to go out after lunch to meet up with Steve.
You kissed her goodbye after sharing a salad bowl together, and smacked a kiss onto your hand before slapping that on Steve’s temple, as he waved at you from the drivers seat, besides where your girlfriend was getting in.
“Thanks.” Steve gave you, eyes crinkled from the sun, and your sudden hand on his face, looking up at you, before you said bye to them both and waved them off.
Robin had told you before she left that ‘you’re all going out tonight’, having sounded very convincing on the phone to both Nancy and Eddie, as they also knew what side of Robin’s personality was shining today.
You were all meeting up at Steve’s house, which was the designated hang out zone, and luckily you all had keys, so you let yourself in pretty early in the day. Nancy had spent the past hour and a half with you in Steve’s home, and Eddie have arrived about twenty minutes later, all of you waiting for Robin, and Steve, as you played some Uno while waiting.
You all turned your heads up, different sounding “Hey!”’s from all three of you, when you heard the door finally open and shut. But you could barely spot a flash of your girlfriend, Steve right behind, and seemingly being dragged by Robin by the hand, as they both rushed up the bannister.
“Sorry babe, guys! We’ll be down later! Keep hanging out!” Robin encouraged you all. And even though you and Nancy shared a look of intrigue, Eddie already helping himself to more of the popcorn you’d brought out a while ago, you heard Steve’s bedroom door slam. And with a shrug, decided to leave Robin and Steve to it, they’d come down when they were finished. ...With, whatever it is they were doing.
You hadn’t even noticed that well over half an hour had gone by, until Robin was calling you from the stairs.
“Are you guys ready?”
You, Nancy and Eddie quickly got up, you sending her and Steve a “Yeah!” As you three stood up in the living room, waiting on in intrigue, until Robin and Steve finally walked through the door.
Robin walked down in a drop dead sparkly dress, glittery and her colour, with beautiful eye make up, and her shiny lips smiling open mouthed in anticipation at you, and all her friends. Steve was in a matching sparkly jacket too, that he’d been ‘persuaded’ to wear by Robin. With a long shirt tucked mostly beneath his going out pants, Steve could make anything look good you swore it was a superpower. But your girlfriend... your jaw dropped to the floor, in a wowed and breathless laugh.
When she walked in the room, the whole place lit up. Reflections of her dress by the lamp illuminating the room, and a bright beam on her face, causing the whole room to shimmer and glow, or maybe you just truly felt that, looking at how happy and stunning your girlfriend Robin was right now.
“Woah!” Eddie breaks the silence first, clapping his hands together once as he takes in the pair. While behind you Nancy gives an “Oh my God.” As you’re already on your way, running up to Robin.
“Wow babe.” You admire.
Robin opens her arms up, with a bright grin on her beautiful face. “Baby love.” She calls you, as you wrap your arms around her back, her own hands cuddling your arms in your hug.
Your hands run up her bare shoulder blades - that feel really silky smooth right now, wow - as you hug her close. Pulling your head back to look her up and down, admiring every little detail Robin poured into herself. “Wow... you look beautiful Robin.”
Robin bounces in her flats, rubbing your own biceps a bit - you’re sure she must’ve put some cream or powder on her hands too because they are just, so soft - before she leans in, to peck a small kiss to your cheek. And you can feel the sticky lip gloss leaving a small mark there too. “Thanks my love.” She smiles, still bouncing eagerly.
You hear Steve laugh at something Nancy says, seeing her pinch the fabric of his sparkly jacket between her fingers, both giggling. Eddie paying attention too, nodding approvingly at Steve. “Yeah, you polish up real nice Harrington.”
Which is met with a response of “Shut up.” By Steve who bitch flicks Eddie’s hand away from where he is, admittedly, prodding at him. But Steve smiling all the same, and it makes you smile too, even though he’s not looking at you.
You love to see him so happy helping Robin out, that’s he’s genuinely not upset at her taking his day away to get him all dressed up to match with her in a big sparkly outfit for her plan, or to have his friends staring and poking at him for it, any of the sort. He’s not complaining about the outfit, in fact no ones making fun of any of them, and to be fair, they’re styled so well they actually look amazing. But you do sincerely love, that Steve is your girlfriends best friend. You couldn’t imagine anyone better for that role for the love of your life. And you’re glad Steve has Robin too.
Steve noticed you smiling at him then, turning to face you. And as you caught his brown eyes, your smile only warmed. And Steve, the true friend he was to you as well, kept smiling back all the way.
Nancy comes to give Robin a quick hug, both holding each other’s elbows as she asks about what stores Robin has been to all day, when Eddie came over and pat Robin’s shoulder too, and she turned up to smile at her friend.
“That actually suits you too Buckley. And when you made your grand dramatic entrance, with all the lights and shit,” Eddie waves his hand in the air “you aura was totally moonstone... or like, diamond, or... shit which one of them is really sparkly?”
Robin just snorts, looking up at Eddie with a hand to her mouth. And Steve has that mom look on his face again, the one where if Robin saw it, she’d definitely laugh harder.
“Did you smoke before coming here?” Steve does the gesture to his lips, asking Eddie.
Nancy popping in, telling Steve and Robin “He says he had an edible maybe two hours ago? I don’t think he’s exactly down yet. At least because we all know Eddie’s stuff works pretty well.”
Eddie just beams, full teeth, straight at Robin and Steve, with his hands proudly behind his back, rolling on the balls of his feet.
You roll your eyes, smiling at your friend, but turning to Robin. Holding both her hands outstretched in each of your own, your thumbs rubbing softly across the knuckles of her cool fingers. “I declined.” You inform her.
Robin gets that big, put on ‘that’s surprising, in a delightful way’ sort of look on her face, as she tilts it at you. “Wow. Oh my God, you didn’t accept Eddie’s free weed this time?”
You shrug, still swinging your hands between both your bodies. “I knew it was gonna be your special night!” Is all you needed to respond with.
And God, if Robin doesn’t love you so much...
She gently grasps your hands as she leans over, pecking your lips solidly, and smiling at you the entire time she leans backwards. “Thank you my diamond.” She calls you, and you tilt your head with a smile at the new nickname. But when she turns to face Eddie after those words, with her raised brows and a knowing look on her face, it all makes sense.
You giggle, getting her attention swiftly back, and her blue eyes only twinkle more as you raise her luxuriously soft hands up with your own, and kiss over the backs of both of them.
“Mmh!” You can’t contain your excitement for Robin. Letting go of one of her hands and raising the other, twirling her grinning when she squeals and whoops with the movement. Making sure you focus on catching her in your arms because you know Robin’s not the most balanced when she’s wearing her usual sneakers, never mind flats.
With her in your arms, you just want to playfully growl and happily kiss all up her neck, burying your nose in there to kiss fast and lots, but you know the others around may not be quite as appreciative as Robin would be. So you settle for planting a sweet kiss to her jaw, lifting her back up straight, but still holding her in your arms, as you ask what you’ve been wanting to all day.
“So? What is the plan? Why are you and Steve all dressed up? I’ve been dying to know.” You hold onto her hand and wrists, Robin leaning in close to you, and you definitely notice her eyes not peering anywhere but your lips as she smiles. Even as Eddie and Nancy ask the same as you.
Eventually Robin looks up, seeing Steve was waiting for her to explain as the floor was hers, if she wanted it, and Robin stood up straight, rather than leaning into you, although she still kept you holding her.
“We’re going to the club tonight. Brava. The one where Eddie can get us in because he helped them fix their sound one time-“
Eddie bows, so lucky accidentally walking past and knowing *something* about speakers actually gave him and his friends a free pass to one of the better clubs in Hawkins.
“And it’s the one where Kelly works at.” Robin looks pointedly at you, and you slowly nod as you begin to get it. Steve’s nodding along too, clearly the first privy to Robin’s master plan.
“We are going to turn up there, looking stunning. We’re all going to dance, a full group of friends, we’re going to drink and have fun. And I’m going to be able to show you off.” Robin points her nose out close to you, her face adoring and admiring, and twinkling with delight at her scheme.
You smirked. Some people may be glad Robin wasn’t going there just to, maybe, show herself off to Kelly, as if to say ‘see I’m hot’, but you very much want to go to the club and praise that fact. I mean, you’d love being able to show everyone how smoking hot your girlfriend is, whenever the chance arises.
Robin smiles at your in on the plan expression. And she turns to everyone else, giving a coy shrug. “If she’s going to show up at my work and cause a scene, then I’m going to let her know what it feels like. Except I’m just going out and having fun with my friends and girlfriend.”
You squeezed Robin’s hip in approval. Kelly doing all that at Robin’s work was out of line. Plus, she was lucky it was only Steve around to hear, as you knew Robin was already out to him, not like Kelly would have. It’s nice to see that side of Robin coming out to kick ass, and go girlboss mode, as she rightfully should.
Nancy and Eddie eagerly agree with the plan, happy them all having a good night out and getting vengeance on behalf of their friend can be done at the exact same time.
“I wanna really dance with you there!” Robin says facing you. Your heart pumping as Robin brings her hands to the side of your chest. Rolling her palms along your skin and muscle, as her fingers slither to your spine. Catching yourself opening your mouth halfway, as if you let Robin in to kiss you. And you have to admit, a certain throb ran through your thighs when you saw a smirk just light up on her face, as her eyes found your lips, and you knew she’d realised what had just happened.
But, extremely unfortunately for you, Robin couldn’t grant you what you wanted because Steve who’d completely missed those subtle movements was wrapping his arm around Robin, and giving a big speech to Eddie, Nancy, and also you, about how wrong this girl was and how they all have to go out and defend their friend. Robin smiles and hugs into Steve’s side as he went on passionately, sticking up for her even in a room full of people who love her. And you absolutely just have to love Steve, no matter if he interrupted a kiss or not, there was no way you could care about his himboness traits coming into affect around his lesbian best friend.
Eddie cheers along with Steve’s little speech, and you and Nancy cry along too with approval. Steve bouncing happily on his feet at doing so well for getting his point across for Robin, and he looked down at her still underneath his arm, and with the way she was grinning, Steve felt proud for not only helping her get through a pretty crappy time, but really making it wonderful for her.
Although Steve did mention how he and Robin had been sharing a bottle of champagne upstairs while they were getting ready, and probably mostly talking and talking and talking, as per usual, due to how long they took. You presumed he got it from his parents cabinet, although you were slightly surprised to learn this because you just thought Robin and Steve were happy, because those two were usually the ones to get drunk first, if they were drinking together. Maybe they were slightly tipsy. You did want some of the champagne though if they hadn’t finished it off.
“You guys pre’d without us?” You ask, faux offended.
Robin extended her arm out at you. “You guys could’ve been drinking all evening if you wanted! Steve still had to drive us back.”
Eddie mentions something about how he should’ve brought booze and weed tonight, to which Nancy just shakes her head, at least with a smile, at him. Causing Eddie to smile back.
But you ask Robin and Steve for some champagne, and they both nod. No one here cares about swigging from the same bottle as each other. You’re well passed that.
“We’re definitely drinking tonight, especially with Eddie’s free pass for us all at Brava.” Robin points out, and she wraps her arm over your shoulders. “I’m tired of being a good girl right now. I feel like I’ve been doing that for at least a month.” Robin moans. “We’re going out to the club, we’re all drinking, and when we get back I am really dancing with you. And maybe if no one’s passed out we can see about Eddie’s thing.”
Steve and Nancy fake groan at Robin’s suggestive nature of how she’d be dancing with you when it would just literally be them in a room together, but Eddie’s too busy fist pumping the air at being right about bringing edibles with him to the party just in case tonight.
“In fact, to not only show off our dazzlingness, but to all be on theme together, Steve and I have got you all matching sparkly outfits!” Robin finally reveals, and Steve laughs as he’s finally not having to hold that detail back anymore.
“Oh my God.”
“Holy shit!”
“You’ve got to be joking.”
You, Eddie, and Nancy all chorus, as Steve goes and brings three bags out from the hallway, you and your two surprised friends gasping and grasping onto each other, shocked but so eager to see what’s in store.
Nancy’s was simple, and had some glittery tights and sparkly jewellery, to go with the outfit Nancy had said she was bringing, as when Robin had called her she’d asked about the fashion code tonight and what everyone was wearing. And Robin already knew what outfit Nancy was bringing, knew what to buy to go along with the set.
Steve head actually been the first one to spot the sleeveless denim jacket, that had the shiny silver spikes on the shoulders. You were trying to tell if some other parts were rhinestones, or just other spikes, or silvery buttony parts, but Eddie was already too busy moving it all about as he admired and inspected it.
To be honest, you knew no matter what, and you thought so did Robin and Steve buying this piece, that Eddie would 100% be down for commitment to the bit, and that he didn’t care about standing out. Especially when not all of you would be standing out ‘shining’.
“And of course,” Robin turned to you, Steve did too. The excited looks on their faces making your heart pump. Your eyes swivelling from them, to Nancy and Eddie who were now fully paying attention to you too, and down to where Robin’s double ringed hand reached down into the bag. “I bought a dress for you.”
Your jaw drops, a smile still on there of course, and Robin’s big blue eyes are delighted up at you. “I also got you shoes as a present. I wanted your outfit all to match.”
Your cheeks are heating with every extra stretch of your wide smile, your hand darting out and gently landing on top of Robin’s wrist in the bag. “Ohhh no, sparkles or sequins are not super my thing.”
Steve was the first one to respond, placing his hand down behind your neck. “Yeah, well, tonight it is.” He just smiles.
Robin shoved whatever was in the bag back down, removing her hand, but when you catch her eyes, her shoulders lift up, and she grins at you very excitedly, lighting up like a kid on chirhsmas.
Robin grabs your hand, and drags you up to Steve’s room with an eager screech. And as you follow suit quickly, so you don’t fall, letting her pull you with her thrilled sounds, as Eddie and Steve bellow laughter from downstairs, you are pulled into Steve’s room, Robin closing the door to show you what she picked out, and let you get dressed.
You fawned and gasped, and ooh’d and ahh’d when Robin spread your dress out on Steve’s bed, already eager for you to try it and make sure it definitely fit.
You were definitely glad she at least got you a style she knew you wore. And as you ran your hands over the lush material, you turned to face your awaiting and encouraged girlfriend, who you didn’t realised had her face just inches from yours, happily anticipating.
Giggling, after your initial tiny flinch, you leaned those three inches in and kissed her lips. Robin allowing herself a small moment of calm, kissing them back sweetly and shortly as she looked to you.
“Thank you sweetheart. It’s really pretty. I’ll definitely wear this more than once. Even if I have to purposely find an occasion to do so.” You smiled, your heart bursting as Robin laughed with glee, so happy you liked it!
You really did! It was sparkly and pretty and the dress was very much in your style, Robin knew exactly what to get you that would match the group, and specifically match her intentionally too, but also was something you’d like, even if you wouldn’t have thought it before. Because Robin knew you, and your clothes, and your style so well by now.
The shoes were actually very comfy too, especially for a first time wearing them. You supposed if after a club night in new shoes the comfort factor went extremely down hill, you had at least three people out of the four who’d be able to carry you home, back to Steve’s. Honestly actually, you wouldn’t put it past Nancy to do so if it was life or death enough either.
You place your hands on Robin’s face, finally in the quiet of an alone room together, and you look deeply at your wonderful love. Robin matching your expression and looking back. Her hands tenderly coming up to rest on your forearms, her head leant into one palm as you kept holding her face. Robin’s eyes trailed to your lips, then back up to your eyes again, but her own were now hooded after a glance there.
You smoothed your thumbs over her cheeks, getting Robin to stop leaning in the second she was about to move another slow centimetre or two, and looking to you as you softly spoke, a loving smirk on your face. “You know, if we’re gonna complete your look, your eyeshadow needs to shine too.”
Robin’s eyes, surrounded by her smooth make up, shone in excitement, and you removed your hands to look in the bag you still have strapped over your shoulder, having been ready for her when Robin came downstairs with a camera in there, although getting caught up in the moment.
You whipped out a massive make up bag, with nearly all the make up you’d collected over the years, having a feeling you’d need it tonight with the hints you were able to pick up from Robin, whether she’d meant to give you all of them or not. Robin clasping her hands together and linking her fingers as she gasped happily down when you opened up the colourful bag.
Throwing it next to the bottle of champagne, courtesy of Steve, that you and Robin would be finishing up soon.
“Okay, get on the bed,” you ordered Robin “I don’t want the floor to ruin your pretty dress.”
To which Robin eagerly agreed, with a small closed mouthed scream. Lying flat down on Steve’s bed, you crawled slowly over her body. Sitting yourself down on top of her lap, your legs either side of hers. Before slowly leaning the top half of your body down. Your chest just about touching, with every little breath or movement around. Your eyes excited and with that cheeky love there that you both used to feel when you’d just be ‘being playful with each other’ when you both had a mutual crush. Flitting them all over Robin’s face, as you watched her eyes shimmer with the exact same look. Pink flushing hard underneath that pretty make up and those gorgeous freckles. Biting down on her bottom lip, a look you really couldn’t tear your eyes away from. As her hands came running up your thighs, to gently secure your hip, to hold you safe while on her.
Resting your hand caressing on Robin’s soft cheek, you can feel her eyelashes brush over your thumb, when she leans into your hand. Just as you apply more sparkly eye make up to her first layer.
Focusing really hard, even if you’re constantly smirking down with such adoration at Robin, as you gently hold her face, while she carefully holds your hips. Brushing your fine make up over her, and taking lots of care into making sure it worked well with what she was wearing, and all was done properly to perfection. Making sure Robin really would shine out tonight.
Knowing your girlfriend will give you the same treatment back at some stage. Whether she’s on top of you and doing your make up with care before, in between, or after you’ve gotten undressed, and changed into her very pretty dress. That Robin got just for you, and for her special night.
#I know Robin’s not the most dressy person but I feel like she’d prefer it over a bodysuit and I’m not sure how well I’d be able to describe#styling together a sequiny top with other outfit pieces in a very 80s way hahaha She’s wearing that dress™️ for the revenge™️#although I did actually think of some good fashion inspo for the Steve outfit luckily#I do wish we’d seen more of s3 Robin personality in s4 tbh But I love her all the same!!#Robin Buckley/reader#Robin Buckley fic#Robin Buckley#Steve Harrington#platonic stobin#Eddie Munson#Nancy Wheeler#fruity four#Robin Buckley x reader#Robin Buckley fluff#stranger things#Taylor Swift#my fics#ask#anon#5k
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'' i can't have my first kiss be with some stranger, so could you please practice with me? '' with robin pls?
oh this is so perfect for her :')
robin buckley/f!reader
1k+ words
You were tired of hearing about Vickie. It wasn't that you didn't support Robin and her endeavors with the first crush in her life that seemed to be working out, it was just...maybe you wanted her affections instead. You were lying on the floor of Robin's bedroom at a ninety degree angle, legs straight up against the wall, staring at her sparkly popcorn ceiling while she went on.
"—it's not that I don't want to kiss her, I do, but we get coffee and I get all worked up in my head thinking about how great it'll be. And it is great, but not great in the way that it probably should feel? She's so pretty, and she doesn't look at me like I'm a weirdo when I can't stop talking, but I can't tell if we're friends or if she wants me to kiss her like we were in her room and it felt like I was supposed to but it also felt like she was positioning herself away from me so I couldn't get close enough."
She was laying next to you, and you watched the way her hands flailed in the air as she spoke, "A—and that's another problem, too, is I know her favorite color and the movies she likes and stuff from her childhood but I don't feel like I know her like she still feels like a stranger which maybe is fair because she has just as much to lose as I do if she feels the same way but I wish I could just lean over and kiss her in the coffee shop or at band practice or somewhere other than our bedrooms because there's so much pressure in a bedroom and I don't wanna put that kind of pressure on a first kiss you know? On top of that I don't even know if I'd be good at it like I kissed a boy at summer camp in eighth grade during spin the bottle but it was an eighth grade kiss so it's not like I have much practice."
You watched her with fondness, turning your head to watch her lips continue to spill every little thought that came into her brain, something you were used to over years of friendship. But it seemed different, now, hurried and anxious, her hands would shake when she stilled them for a moment.
Grabbing them midair to steady her, you took her pause as an opportunity to interject, "Robin, Robin, hey, are you like, okay? You seem more...talkative than normal."
She turned to look at you, her lips moving as though she kept trying to speak and couldn't.
You squeezed her hand.
"W—well I mean, you've...kissed girls, right?"
"And boys, yeah."
"Right, yeah, well I just—you're my best friend and you're not scared, somehow, which I...I don't understand but I admire it and it wouldn't have to change anything like we could just be the same way we are now but it would really help me get out of my head but if you don't want to then it's fine we can just pretend I never asked but—"
She trailed off, and you waited in the silence for her to continue. You felt her heartbeat in her wrist with her hand in yours, it was almost as fast as yours.
"Robin?"
"I...it's just...I can't have my first kiss be with some stranger, so could you please practice with me? And okay...okay I know what you're thinking! You're thinking 'Robin, Vickie isn't a stranger, she's your friend! Why are you so nervous!' and you're right but I'm scared and starting to second guess if I should even be kissing Vickie or anyone! I'm starting to think I'll just die alone and unkissed except for a stupid kiss in eight grade from a boy with headgear and onion breath when all I want is to kiss a girl I like and—"
You leaned forward and kissed her, bringing your hands down between your chests. Her eyes went wide at first, but she fell into it just as you did, lips parting tentatively, a soft hum from her throat when you slid your tongue against hers.
If it started as practice, it very quickly spiraled into something else. Robin pushed harder into you, leaning up on her elbow to crowd over you, instinct bringing you closer until she was on your lap.
You stilled her for a moment, trying to ignore how beautiful she looked with her cheeks flushed and lids heavy, "Hey, hey, um...is this—is this still practice or..."
Her gaze flicked around, posture straightening, but she stayed on your lap, "I mean uh, yes but I...not if you don't want it to be. It can be either, o—or whatever you want I'm happy to call it practice or it can just be kissing or I—I don't know, you know more than me so I was just following your lead but no pressure and we can still forget—"
You reached up and ran a finger at the edge of her hairline, stilling her, "Robin stop, stop. I don't want to forget anything, I'm...happy you asked. I've wanted to kiss you for so long. You have no idea."
"Oh! Well," She frowned, "Why didn't you say anything?"
You laughed, "Because you're crazy about Vickie! I'm not gonna get in the way of that."
"But now I want you to." She offered a weak smile, raising her eyebrows and leaning back down to your lips, hovering just above them.
"Are you sure?" You whispered, settling your hands around her waist, fiddling with the hem of her t-shirt.
"Am I ever?" Robin laughed, "I just really really want to kiss you again."
"For practice, yeah?" You returned, your laugh cut off by her lips on yours again.
She pressed her body into you, slipping her tongue into your mouth, a hand coming down to your hip to grab at you. There was more certainty in this kiss, her lips guiding you now, soft but firm as she pulled you in deeper. You hummed against her mouth, and she broke away with a smile.
"Nope."
#robin buckley x reader#robin buckley x you#robin buckley/reader#robin buckley/you#robin buckley#anonymous#answered*#my writing#mine
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Lost In The Maze
Pairing: Robin Buckley/Female Reader
Requested By: Anon
Word Count: 1,356
Summary: It was Robin's idea to go to the haunted corn maze in the first place. But she absolutely cannot cope when she realizes that she's lost you within the walls of the maze.
AN: Thank you so much for the request, anon! I hope you like what I came up with and I'm sorry it's so short.
Robin Buckley Masterlist
Stranger Things Masterlist
~~~~~
"I'm just gonna go this way to see if there's an opening. Don't move."
That was the last thing you told Robin before turning heel and walking away. She'd managed to stay in her spot for about a minute before she got nervous. She swears she walked the same direction you did. But then the first wall was in front of her.
It was Robin's turn to pick date night. The arrangement was that every week on either Friday or Saturday you'd both take turns choosing how you spent the day together. Last week you'd chosen Chinese take out and Mad Libs in bed. You'd laughed so hard you cried, and Robin spilled sweet and sour sauce on your couch. It was a truly perfect day.
But this week was Robin's pick. She'd chosen a small harvest fair in the next town. Someone with a lot of land had opened their farm up to the public, charging a small admission fee to enter. There was a hay ride that went around the property, a small stand near the front selling food, a stall selling pumpkins beside it. But what took up the most space on the land was the corn maze. During the day it was an average maze. Dry stalks of corn taller than you with trails cut into it. But Robin assured you that the real fun was after sundown. As soon as the sun began to set in the distance, they stopped allowing anyone under 16 inside of the maze and it became a haunted corn maze.
And that was how you ended up here. Under a dark, starry sky surrounded by corn and people who love nothing more than scaring the pants off of you. You'd left Robin in hopes of finding an exit. That was your mistake, you'd admit. But you really did think that she'd be able to stand in one spot for, like, two minutes while you investigated.
She was not.
~~~~~
It felt like forever that Robin stood there alone. Her fingers tugged at the hem of her sweater, fidgeting with a loose thread. She stretched her feet, standing on tip toes as she peered intently in the direction you'd left. Her bottom lip was pulled between her teeth in an ill fated attempt to self soothe as she wondered where you were and how long you'd be gone.
Before she could stop herself, her feet were moving. She craned her neck as she searched for you amongst the dried corn stalks that surrounded her. She swore they were growing taller with each passing moment. Sticks and fallen leaves crunched and cracked beneath her red converse sneakers. She was beginning to panic, but doing a good enough job of calming herself. She can't be far. I'm going to find her. It's not that big of a maze. I'm going to find her.
And then she hit a dead end.
She nearly walked face first into a solid wall of corn, too busy looking around herself to watch where she was going. She looked up to the tops of the stalks. They were at most a foot taller than her, but they suddenly seemed to reach heights of 50 feet at least. She looked to the left, then to the right. Left again. Robin could actually feel her pulse quicken before finally deciding to turn left.
She walked quickly, heart pounding in her chest so hard she could hear it. She brushed past a sloppy looking scarecrow as she searched for you. Her blue eyes concentrated hard on the ground in front of her. It was her idea to do the haunted portion of the maze and she was expecting the scarecrow to come to life at any moment and scare her. He didn't. His straw filled arms and burlap face never moved. He was unnerving nonetheless.
Robin could just barely see in front of her. The owners had set up lights inside the maze but they were sparse and the dark points between them had her sweating beneath her jacket as she approached them. But she had to keep going. She had to find you.
A girl in a torn dress and blood on her face suddenly jumped at her from her left hand side. The rustling of the corn stalks was all but silenced by the sound of her terrified shriek. The girl slinked back into the corn with a satisfied grin on her bloody face as Robin tried to regain her composure. She was already regretting her decision to do something scary for Halloween.
By now she was all but running through the maze in search of you. She came upon a group of about half a dozen people all clinging to one another as they moved through the dark maze. She stopped them, panting as she asked them if they'd seen you. Her description of you was good, if she said so herself. She had memorized everything about you, down to what color socks you were wearing.
"Nah, man," a boy younger than her said with a shrug. "But I know if you ask one of the employees they'll walk you out."
"I can't just walk out. I have to find her."
One of the girls in the group stepped forward. "They'll probably send someone in to find her or something."
Robin sighed heavily as she shouldered past the group. They were absolutely no help and she was still determined. Logically, she knew they were right. If she found her way out and told an employee that you were lost in the maze, they'd find you. They obviously wouldn't leave you to freeze overnight in a cornfield. But she couldn't just leave you alone in here to be found by a stranger. No, she decided. It had to be her.
So, with a deep breath and a small internal pep talk, she set off. The new determination she felt acted as something of a barrier between her and all the things around her that were meant to scare her. The dark, the cold, the sounds, the people. None of it seemed to phase her as she set her sights on her one goal. Finding you.
A few more people jumped at her from behind corn stalks. She didn't even react, really. Just shooting angry glances their way as they retreated back into their hiding spots. She found herself growing more and more anxious the further she ventured into the maze. An unfamiliar dread settled into her mind as she let herself wonder if she'd ever find you.
Hands from seemingly nowhere suddenly fell to her hips. She whipped around, ready to take out whatever ghoul had been brave enough to break the rules and grab her. Her anger and fear both died in her chest the moment she turned. Instead of seeing a scary townie with bad Halloween makeup, she saw you. Cheeks pink with chill under your shy smile. Robin reached forward, throwing her arms around your shoulders. She pulled you tightly to her chest, her hands holding you like her life depended on it.
"Hi, baby," you whispered into her shoulder as your own arms wrapped around her waist.
Robin tightened her hold on you almost painfully. "Thought I'd never see you again," she whimpered.
"I told you not to move," you giggled, pulling away from the embrace just enough to see her face.
Her arms unwrapped from your shoulders as her gaze softened. She brought her cold hands to rest on your cheeks. Her fingers found home just beneath your ears, her thumbs resting gently on the apples of your cheeks. She pulled you forward to meet her lips in a kiss that felt desperate and excited. She smiled as she broke the kiss, her forehead resting against yours.
"Let's get out of here?" She asked in a voice that was just barely a whisper.
"Yeah," you agreed, pulling your hands from around her waist. She dropped her own hands from your cheeks, opting to link your fingers with hers as you walked in the direction you'd come from. Hopefully, towards the exit.
~~~~~
Feedback is always appreciated! Requests are open! Have a great weekend! 🥰 If you'd like to be tagged in my Stranger Things fics, please let me know. I also have individual tag lists for Steve, Eddie, Robin, Nancy, and Steddie.
Tag List: @manyfandomsfanvergent @paradoxicalconundrum @strvngerrose @redwineanddnicotine
#robin buckley fanfiction#robin buckley fanfic#robin buckley fluff#robin buckley imagine#robin buckley x reader#robin buckley x fem reader#robin buckley x female reader#robin buckley x you#robin buckley x y/n#robin buckley/ reader#robin buckley/ you#robin buckley/reader#stranger things fanfic#stranger things fanfiction#stranger things fluff#stranger things imagine#stranger things x y/n#stranger things x fem!reader#stranger things x reader#stranger things x you#stranger things/ reader
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could you do "giving the other a spoonful of the meal they’re cooking to test it out, holding their hand under their chin so nothing falls." with Robin from the domestic prompts post in your tag? <3
How did you know cooking for people is my love language T.T I love this so much!!
Word Count: 577
Warnings: Language, food mention, big gay, very soft
“Honey, I’m home!” Robin calls from the door to your apartment, sing-songing the phrase and giggling at her own insistence to greet you like a sitcom husband. She drops the act as soon as she crosses the threshold to the kitchen and is hit with the scent of tomato and basil. “Shit, that smells incredible.”
You hum at her praise and lean into her embrace when she walks up behind you at the stove to wrap her arms around your waist. She presses a kiss to your cheek and you lean into it, smiling. “Hope you’re hungry,” you say, turning to catch her lips for a proper kiss. “I don’t know how to divide this sauce recipe. It’ll feed a small army.”
“Mmm, perfect,” she gives you one final squeeze before letting you go to continue cooking and grab herself a drink. “Steve’s always telling me I could eat as much as a small army. Need any help?”
With a laugh at her comment, you shake your head. “It’s okay sweetie, you just got off of work, and I’ve been home all day. I don’t mind!”
Leaning on the counter, she raises one eyebrow, “translation: stay the hell out of my way, right?”
Gasping sharply, you throw a dramatic hand to your chest and break into another giggle. “I would never say such a thing.” You both roll your eyes.
Robin snags a chunk of pepperoni from the cutting board as you pick it up to dump in the sauce, and you jokingly slap at her hand before she pops the piece into her mouth with wide eyes and raised brows. “Sure you wouldn't.” She giggles and perches herself on the counter between the stove and fridge, her favorite place to sit while watching you cook. Near enough to feel close to you, but the tiny section of counter is so small that she doesn’t feel like she’s using up valuable counter space in your tiny kitchen.
She’s told you before that the kitchen was her favorite place to observe you. At the time you cracked some joke about her being a scientist, and you, the thing she was studying, but since then you’ve gotten to know what she meant. You were happy in the kitchen. Always loved cooking, and in the moments when you perfected a recipe or tried something new that worked out in your favor, she was always there to celebrate you and share in your happiness, pressing a gentle kiss to your cheek or the crook of your neck and tell you how she couldn’t wait to eat whatever it was you concocted.
She also loved to taste test.
Stirring the pasta sauce until the pepperoni is fully incorporated, you taste it yourself and groan happily at the spicy, acidic taste.
“Come here,” you say, dipping the spoon into the sauce again, making sure to get equal parts tomato, italian sausage, and pepperoni so that she can taste all the elements at once, and blow on it to cool it. Cupping your hand under the spoon to catch drips, you bring the spoon to your girlfriend's lips. You’re granted a very brief look at her eyes lighting up before they squeeze shut in bliss and she groans just as you did.
You set the spoon to the side and flush under her praise. “That good?” “Baby,” she says, cupping your cheeks, “someone needs to call Earl Payroux, because you belong on Gourmet Cooking.”
#robin buckley/reader#robin buckley/you#robin buckley x reader#robin buckley x you#robin buckley imagine#robin buckley reader insert#stranger things imagine#stranger things x reader#stranger things reader insert#female!reader#robin drabble#drabble#fluff
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Hear me out on this one, Eddie Munson is about to have his moment. Look at the way everyone is looking at him, intently listening to what he has to say, I don't know what's going on here, but I do know that this is most likely going to be a confidence-boosting moment for Eddie where he gets to shine.
#natalia dyer#nancy wheeler#gaten matarazzo#dustin henderson#joe keery#steve harrington#joseph quinn#eddie munson#maya hawke#robin buckley#priah ferguson#erica sinclair#sadie sink#max mayfield#caleb mclaughlin#lucas sinclair#stranger things#stranger things 4#eddie munson x reader#i know a lot of eddie fans like myself frequent that tag#enjoy besties#<3
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