summary: you can't be more obvious about how badly you want to hop on Robin and wear her out, and Robin is absolutely clueless. and as entrained as Steve is, he's tired of watching it.
warnings/tags: fluff, suggestive reader is kinda giving mean/bossy femme but like... in a fun cunty way of course, Robin literally has no clue reader is flirting with her and is completely lost, teasing... so much teasing, drunk makeout session, brief dry-humping/thigh riding/grinding, timeline is kinda weird (just ignore how it makes no sense with the canon timeline), first thousand-ish words are just backstory and Steve's ally origin story... other character may seem slightly ooc cuz i gave up on trying to make all the friends and connections canonically accurate lol, i got really lazy while trying to read over this so it's not exactly proofread but i did have someone else beta edit (thoughts and prayers for this one...)
wc: 11.8k
You and Steve Harrington have been good friends for as long as you can remember. Well- sort of. You didn't really get along as kids, but you were neighbors and close in age, whose parents got along well, which put you two in the position of being around each other more than either of you had wanted.
This developed into some sort of sibling-like annoyance that had both of you coiling in disgust any time someone would insinuate anything other than a platonic dynamic between you two.
You were both fairly popular and involved in school activities, always finding each other in similar crowds, and seeking comfort in knowing you were both putting up some sort of front.
It was pretty early on in your high school career that Steve realized you were very different from every other girl in his life. Your name had been brought up by multiple people in many different contexts. He has denied many accusations of him having a crush on you, and the other way around, because it's never been like that. He's definitely thought about it before, and after things went terribly wrong with Nancy, he even tried to force himself to consider it as an option. He quickly reaffirmed this as a terrible idea that would work because 1) you are far more evil than Nancy Wheeler, and would tear him to shreds, and 2) Steve Harrington was well-aware that you did not have any romantic or sexual interest in men.
He had always wondered why you never had a boyfriend like all the other girls you hung around with. Steve had always just chalked it up to the fact that you were still young, or that you just had other priorities ("Y/n's really smart- she's too busy with school to care about any of you losers" is definitely something he's said to his own friends in your defense when he started having his suspicions).
Everything was confirmed one night at a party after he and Nancy had officially ended things. Steve had been handling the breakup pretty badly, and you, of course, being the only real friend he had, were there to hold him together. He was so drunk at one point that you had to take him outside because he was overheating. You sat on a stoop at the side of the house, just letting him complain and whine about Nancy. At some point, you started getting annoyed and interrupted,
"I mean, Steve, she said she didn't love you... and you want her back? That's so unfair to you! You need to be with someone who actually cares about you and what you want. Nancy's great, but your goals don't align at ALL- and how she handled that was HORRIBLE-" You continued ranting about something related to Steve and Nancy and love and how he deserves to be loved wholly, and Steve, in his drunken state, started formulating thoughts. You were beautiful, funny, smart, and always kept it real with him... why had he never actually considered you? Sure- you were mean to every other guy who tried to put a move on you, but... maybe it could be different (he knew it wouldn't be). He had thought back on all the times you'd interacted with each other, then on all the times he'd seen you interact with other guys. You never really seemed interested in anyone- in fact, you seemed kind of disgusted and irritated any time you had to talk to a guy. Which was so weird, because Steve has seen you be kind and sweet so many other times!
Then he started thinking about all those times...
"Y/n-" Steve cut off whatever you were saying. You looked at him with wide eyes, honestly scared he was about to throw up or pass out.
"What..."
"Why don't you like boys?" he slurred. And Steve might have been plastered, but he never forgot how pale your face got, and how scared you looked when he asked you that question.
"Excuse me?" Steve shook his head softly, reaching for your hand and squeezing it.
"Don't look at me like that- it's not scary- justaquestion..." He wasn't making any sense...
"I don't know what you're talking about..." Steve let out a slow, disbelieving laugh, head tipping back against the siding of the house.
“C’mon,” he mumbled. “You hate every guy that talks to you.”
“I do not.”
“You do,” he insisted, pointing at you lazily. “Every time Tommy has tried flirting with you, you looked like you wanna to kill him-"
"that's because Carol's obviously obsessed with him, and it's- ugh, it's Tommy."
"Right, and when Jason Carver asked for your number, you told him to eat shit and die.” “And that was funny.”
“It was terrifying.” You rolled your eyes hard enough to hurt, but your stomach was twisting violently. Steve was drunk, yes, but he wasn’t stupid. He noticed things, always had.
“You’re imagining things,” you muttered.
“Am not.” His voice softened suddenly, unexpectedly serious beneath the slur. “I know you.”
And he was right- he did know you, and that's what made you feel sick.
Steve Harrington knew you better than almost anyone. Better than your parents, maybe. Better than any other guy you've ever talked to. Better than the girls you floated between at school. He knew every version of your moods, every look on your face, every stupid little habit.
And apparently, he knew this too.
Your fingers tightened around the sleeves of your jacket. “Steve-”
“You don’t gotta act weird about it,” he interrupted quietly. “I’m not judging you.” You stared at him, and Steve, drunk out of his mind and glassy-eyed under the porch light, just shrugged like it was obvious.
“I think it’s kinda cool, actually.”
The breath you’d been holding escaped all at once. For a second, neither of you spoke. Then Steve squinted at you suddenly, brows pulling together in concentration. “Wait.”
"What?"
"Oh my god..." “Oh my god?”
“WAIT-” You covered your face immediately. “Steve, don’t.”
His mouth dropped open slowly like the world’s dumbest revelation had just hit him.
“You like girls.” you smack him, “Keep your voice down!”
“You LIKE girls.”
“Yes, asshole, I know this, and I figured you gathered that from the conversation!” Steve started laughing so hard he nearly fell sideways off the stoop. You grabbed his arm on instinct, mortified beyond belief while he clung to your sleeve, still cackling.
“I knew it,” he said triumphantly.
“You absolutely did not.”
“I totally did.”
“You thought I was a communist last month.”
“That was unrelated.” You groaned, dragging your hands down your face. “I cannot believe this is happening right now.”
Steve looked at you then- really looked at you- and the laughter faded into something softer.
“So that’s why,” he said quietly.
“Why what?”
“You never liked any of those idiots.”
You snorted. “Well, I mean- yeah... but even if I did like guys, I would never go out with most of those weirdos.”
Steve smiles softly, releasing a huff of laughter, “fair enough.” He nodded slowly, like that made perfect sense to him.
Then, because he was Steve, and because he was drunk and incapable of shutting up, he asked “So who do you like?”
Your eyes widened instantly. “Nobody-” he scoffs, “Liar.”
“Steve-” he dramatically tosses himself onto you, leaning his head on your shoulder, “C’mon, tell meee-”
“No!” “You totally have someone.”
“I literally do not.” But you did, or at least… maybe. You barely even knew her, which was the pathetic part.
Robin Buckley was sarcastic and kind of mean and entirely too smart for everyone around her. The first time you’d really noticed her was at your homecoming pep rally earlier that year- she, of course, was in the band, and you were one of the only juniors who made homecoming court.
You accidentally bumped into each other right as everyone was starting to gather in the gymnasium. She ended up dropping her sheet music, and you obviously helped her pick it up, seeing as you felt terrible. You still remember apologizing sweetly and feeling your face go hot as you met her beautiful blue eyes, immediately getting lost in the sea of freckles scattered across her face.
You also remember her not really giving a fuck and pursing her lips as she delivered a casual, "thanks" before moving on like it never happened in the first place... that was slightly humbling.
Then summer came- Steve graduated and was forced to work at Scoops Ahoy, which you tried not to give him too much shit for, since you knew deep down it was an insecurity for him. You'd come in every now and then with friends, timing your arrival with Steve's shifts, until you caught one of the times when him and Robin were both at the front- you switched up your routine shortly after.
It was fascinating watching them interact- Steve didn’t let people talk to him how she did, not usually. But with Robin, he just rolled his eyes and kept talking, like he liked being challenged by her. And Robin looked at Steve differently than everyone else did, too. Not like he was King Steve Harrington. Just Steve- annoying, idiot Steve. Your Steve.
You liked that. Maybe a little too much...
Then they started working together at Family Video, and suddenly Robin Buckley became unavoidable. Steve talked about her constantly- Robin said this, Robin hates this movie, Robin threatened to strangle me with the film of a VHS tape today.
And every time you came into Family Video, there she was behind the counter with her crossed arms and unimpressed expression and stupid pretty eyes.
At first, you told yourself you only came because Steve worked there and you loved bothering him in your free time. Then Robin started smiling when you walked in, and that ruined your life a little.
What really got you, though, was seeing Steve act casual around another girl- the same way he was with you. Which meant Robin probably knew- or at least… maybe she’d understand. And once that possibility entered your brain, you completely lost your mind.
so you started visiting every day, amping up your flirting to be painfully obvious. It was almost embarrassing how obvious you were being. wearing your lowest cut shirts and tiniest shorts, batting your eyes and pouting at Robin as you leaned your elbows on the counter, making sure to push your tits together just enough to draw attention.
Of course, Robin loses her mind. How could she not? She's just so confused, cuz there's no way you're doing this on purpose- why would she look at ME with those big doe eyes? Why would she bite her lip at ME? WINK at ME????
It was causing a lot of inner turmoil. And part of you thought it was working, considering Robin went from glaring at you and not having much to say, to constantly having the deer-in-the-headlights gaze, and always having something to ramble on about as an answer to any of your simple questions. It was quite entertaining, to say the least.
But of course, the less secure part of you was riddled with anxiety, conjuring up hypotheticals that Robin didn't actually like you, and she wasn't blushing out of shyness but rather discomfort. Were you making her uncomfortable? Does she think you're making fun of her?
Steve noticed it all after exactly one week.
“You’re flirting with Robin.” You nearly choked on your drink. “I’m literally not.”
“Bullshit- you totally are!” Steve, ever the endearing idiot, argues with a mouthful of fries as he sat across from you in the booth. It was a Thursday night, and agreed earlier in the week that you'd pick him up and grab dinner after his shift at Family Video. You probably wouldn't have done so, had you known he was going to ambush you about your secret crush.
You stared at him for a long second before scoffing and stealing a fry from his basket. “You’re insane.”
“I’m observant.” “You absolutely are not.”
“You wore that tiny little black skirt yesterday.” Your eyes narrowed. “Wow- okay creep,”
“And you kept leaning over the counter every five seconds like you were going to jump on her.” You almost inhaled your drink wrong. “I was not.”
“She dropped three tapes.” “And what does that have to do with me?”
“She alphabetized the returns bin wrong.” You paused. Steve pointed triumphantly. “HA!”
“Oh my god.”
“She never messes that up,” he continued, leaning forward now with genuine investment in the topic. “Do you understand how insane that is? Robin would rather die than shelve movies incorrectly.”
You groaned, dragging both hands over your face. “Can you at least lower your voice?” Steve flinched, as if suddenly remembering he was in public, and scanned the diner for any onlookers. Once he knew he was in the clear, his expression shifted instantly.
“Oh my god,” he whispered loudly, eyes wide. “You actually like her.”
Heat exploded across your face so fast it hurt. “No I do not.”
“Yes you do.” “No I-”
“You have a crush on Robin Buckley.” he jabbed a finger in your direction from across the table, a victorious grin overtaking his face.
“Steve-” “You have a crush on Robin Buckley,” he repeated with increasing delight, like he’d just solved a complex murder case.
“Okay, how many times are you gonna say it?”
“This is incredible.”
“You are being so annoying right now.” Steve sat back in the booth, grinning so hard it was unbearable. “Holy shit.”
You kicked him under the table. “OW- Hey!”
“Keep your voice down!” you hiss through clenched teeth.
Steve leaned forward again immediately, lowering his tone theatrically. “Sorry. Sorry.” He paused for half a second before his smirk returned. “You’re in love with Robin Buckley.”
“I'm gonna fucking kill you.”
“You sooo are.” You dropped your head onto the table with a muffled groan. While this was obviously humiliating for you, Steve, unfortunately, seemed to be having the time of his life.
“When did this even happen?” he asked excitedly. “Was it the homecoming thing?”
Your head snapped up. “How do you know about that?”
“Because you came home after the pep rally acting weird as hell.”
“I did not.”
“You sat on the porch and stared at our mailbox for like ten minutes.”
You blinked, mouth slightly agape, “…I was thinking.”
“You were gay processing.” “What the hell??”
Steve laughed so hard he had to put his fries down. Meanwhile, your heart was beating violently against your ribs because this was real now. Someone else knew- and for better or for worse, it was Steve Harrington.
You picked at the label on your cup quietly. “I think I already fucked it up.” you sigh pitifully.
Steve’s laughter faded immediately, “What?”
You shrugged, trying and failing to look casual. “I dunno... Maybe I’m being weird. I think she thinks I’m making fun of her or something.”
“What?” Steve frowned hard. “Why would she think that?”
“Because I’m laying it on kinda thick.” Steve snorted. “Kinda?”
You glared at him and he rolls his eyes, “She likes it.”
“Uhm, she probably doesn't.” Steve furrowed his brows and chewed on his straw, “Uhm, I would be the one to know- I literally work with her, and it's pretty obvious to tell when Robin's freaking out over something or someone.”
Your stomach twisted. “Steve.”
“No, seriously.” He leaned forward again, suddenly earnest. “Robin freaks out over plenty of things, but she does not act like that around people she’s "uncomfortable" with.”
You stared at him, waiting for an elaboration. Steve shrugged, “Usually, if Robin doesn’t like someone, she'll let them know- she usually just gets meaner.”
“…She was mean to me at first.”
“Yeah, because she thought you were hot.” Your jaw dropped, "No way..."
Steve blinked, like he hadn’t realized the words were coming out until they already had, then he doubled down immediately-
“She did!” he insisted. “The first time you came into Scoops after noticing her, she literally forgot how to make a milkshake.”
“She did not!” he leaned in further, “She handed some kid melted ice cream in a cup and told him it was a ‘new concept.’”
A horrified laugh escaped you before you could stop it, you burried you face in your hands and shook your head.
Steve pointed again. “See! And now every time you come into Family Video she turns into a malfunctioning robot.”
You shook your head more aggressively, as if trying to rid your brain of the possibility of her liking you back, “She does not.”
“She asked a guy if he wanted to rent ‘Back to the Future’ yesterday while holding ‘Dirty Dancing.’”
You covered your face with both hands, groaning. “Oh my god, now I'm just getting second hand embarassment.”
“I’m serious!” Steve laughed. “You should see her when you walk in. It’s actually embarrassing.”
Your voice came out muffled through your fingers. “You’re lying to make me feel better.”
“I’m literally not smart enough to make that up.” Unfortunately, that was true. You slowly lowered your hands. “So… you really think she doesn’t hate me?”
Steve looked genuinely offended. “Hate you? Dude, I think Robin Buckley has spent the last week trying not to have a nervous breakdown every time you walk through the door”
Your stomach flipped violently, “That obvious?”
“To me? Yeah.” He took another fry casually. “But Robin’s oblivious in a completely different way than you are.”
You narrowed your eyes. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Steve smirked. “You think she hates you because she gets nervous.”
“And?”
“And Robin probably thinks you’re just naturally like…” He gestured vaguely with a fry. “All that.”
“All what?”
Steve made an exasperated sound, irritated he had to spell it out even further for you. “You know- pretty, flirty, intimidating- all that shit. I mean- you're like me, but like- not like me at all i guess...”
You barked out a disbelieving laugh. “Robin is intimidating.”
“Not once you get to know her... but I mean- yeah sure, she can be- but you wear tiny little outfits and stare at her like you’re trying to seduce her out of giving you late fees.”
Your face burned hot enough to melt skin as you sank into your seat. “I don’t stare at her.”
Steve just looked at you, “…Okay maybe a little.”
“A little,” he repeated flatly. Silence settled for a second before Steve’s expression softened.
“You should ask her to hang out.” Your eyes widened immediately. “Absolutely not.”
“Why not?”
“Because I’d rather die.”
Steve rolled his eyes so hard that you're surprised they didn't fall out. “You are ridiculous.”
“What if she says no?”
“She won’t.” Steve watched you slouch slightly, the pout on your lips deepening
“You don’t know that.” he sighed and leaned his elbows on the table
“I know Robin.” He shrugged. “And I know you.”
Something about the way he said it made your chest ache a little.. Because Steve really did know you, better than anyone.
He nudged your foot under the table. “Just talk to her like a normal person.”
You stared at him blankly “…I think we both know it’s too late for that.”
Friday afternoons at Family Video were usually painfully boring, which was why Robin immediately knew Steve was up to something. He’d been weird all day, and not his normal Robin-look-at-this-horrible-movie-cover weird, either. This was different- he kept glancing at her every couple minutes like he was trying not to smile about something.
“You’re acting suspicious,” Robin finally said from behind the counter, narrowing her eyes as she scanned a returned tape.
Steve looked up too quickly. “What? No I’m not.”
“You absolutely are.”
“I’m literally standing here.”
“Yeah, suspiciously.” Steve rolled his eyes, reorganizing the candy display with an amount of focus that immediately confirmed her point.
Robin pointed at him. “See? That.”
“What?”
“You only attempt to alphabetize things when you’re hiding something.”
“That is a crazy thing to observe about somebody, and I do not do that.”
“You reorganized the entire romance section after you found out I failed my Spanish test.”
“That was unrelated.”
“You color-coded it.”
Steve shrugged innocently without looking at her. “It looked nice.”
Robin stared at him for another long second, watching the way he kept biting back a smile like he physically couldn’t help it. Then her eyes widened dramatically.
“Oh my god.” Steve froze mid-adjustment, slowly side-eyeing her over his shoulder.
“You got laid.”
“What?!” His voice cracked so violently Robin almost laughed before he even continued. “I didn’t- why is that your first assumption?!”
Robin pointed harder now, absolutely delighted with herself. “You DID.”
“I did not!”
“Steve, you’re glowing with heterosexual confidence right now.”
“I am not glowing!”
“You’re practically sparkling.” Steve groaned loudly, rubbing a hand down his face in exasperation while Robin grinned smugly from behind the counter.
“Can you relax?”
“No,” she said immediately. “This is the most interesting thing that’s happened all week.”
And unfortunately for Steve, that would’ve been true.
The store fell quiet for a moment after that, save for the soft static crackling from the old television mounted in the corner. Some cheesy action movie played silently across the screen while fluorescent lights buzzed overhead. Robin went back to sorting returns, though she kept glancing up at Steve suspiciously every few seconds. Meanwhile, Steve hovered awkwardly near the counter like a man seconds away from making a terrible decision.
“You should come to Becky’s party tonight.”
Robin blinked slowly. “…What?”
Steve shrugged with forced casualness, shoving his hands into the pockets of his vest. “There’s a party tonight.”
“I know,” Robin said flatly. “You just said that.”
“Cool.”
“Why would I go?” Steve looked at her like the answer was painfully obvious. “Because you never go anywhere.”
Robin scoffed loudly. “I go places.”
“The grocery store doesn’t count.”
“It absolutely counts.”
“You need enrichment.” Robin snorted so suddenly she almost dropped the tape in her hands. “Did you just compare me to a zoo animal?”
Steve pointed at her immediately. “See? This is why you need to socialize.”
“I socialize with you against my will for thirty-five hours a week.”
“And isn’t your life soooo much better because of it?” Robin opened her mouth automatically with a sarcastic response ready to go, but paused.
“…Unfortunately,” she muttered. Steve grinned triumphantly like he’d just won an argument nobody else knew they were having, causing Robin to narrow her eyes immediately.
“You’re scheming.”
“I’m not scheming.”
“You have your ‘I know something you don’t know’ face.”
Steve scoffed. “I do not have a face for that.”
“You absolutely do.” Robin pointed accusingly now. “You get all smug and your hair somehow gets worse.”
“My hair always looks good.”
“Sure.”
Steve leaned against the counter casually, though the effort he was putting into seeming casual made it painfully obvious something was up. “I just think you should come out tonight.”
Robin stared at him for a second. Then her stomach dropped as realization hit her like a truck.
“…Is Y/n gonna be there?” Steve failed spectacularly at hiding his grin, causing Robin’s eyes to widen in horror.
“Of course she is.” The bastard didn’t even try denying it.
“Oh my god,” Robin whispered, horrified, already feeling heat crawl up her neck. Steve immediately started laughing at the look on her face. “Oh my GOD, Steve.”
“What?!” he defended through laughter.
“You’re setting me up!”
“I am not!”
“You absolutely are!”
“I’m encouraging personal growth!”
Robin made an incredulous noise, throwing her hands up. “That is the most manipulative sentence you’ve ever spoken.”
Steve only laughed harder.
“You told her, didn’t you?” Robin hissed suddenly, leaning across the counter with genuine panic flashing across her face. “Oh my god, you told her I’m obsessed with her-”
“I did not say obsessed.” Robin made a strangled noise and covered her face with both hands immediately.
“Steve!”
“She likes you back!” Robin’s hands dropped instantly as the world went completely silent. The TV buzzed faintly in the background. Somewhere outside, a car door slammed shut. Robin just stared at him.
“…What?” Steve blinked. Oops.
Robin looked at him with genuine alarm now, blue eyes wide and unblinking like she’d just watched a car crash happen in front of her. “Steve...”
He winced slightly. “Well.”
“STEVE”
“What?!” he defended immediately. “You guys are both idiots!”
Robin looked like she might actually pass out, “You told her?”
“No! Jesus Christ, Robin.” Steve lowered his voice immediately, glancing toward the empty aisles out of instinct. “I didn’t out you to each other, if that’s what you’re freaking out about.”
Robin relaxed exactly two percent.
“She just…” Steve hesitated for a second, his expression softening. “She likes girls too, and I hinted that the chances of you liking her back weren’t necessarily zero.”
Robin stopped breathing for a second. “Oh.”
“And she likes you.” Robin looked physically incapable of processing that information. Steve literally watched her cycle through twelve emotions in the span of five seconds- confusion, hope, disbelief, panic, excitement, terror- before she landed firmly on denial.
“No,” she said immediately.
Steve sighed. “Robin-”
“No, she doesn’t.”
“She literally does.”
“She’s just flirting for fun, and- and you’re totally fucking with me right now, which is cruel even for you, Steve Harrington-”
“Robin,” Steve interrupted, trying not to laugh, “she practically climbs onto the counter every time you talk.”
Robin’s face burned so red it almost hurt. “She’s just- she’s like that!”
“She is absolutely not like that at all, I promise.” Robin opened her mouth to argue again, then slowly closed it, because deep down, she knew you really weren’t like that with anyone else. Not with Steve’s idiot friends. Not with random guys at parties. Not even with Steve, honestly. Just her.
Robin had noticed it weeks ago, despite trying very hard to convince herself she was imagining things- the lingering eye contact, the way you smiled differently at her, the way you’d lean over the counter just to listen for intently to whatever dumb thing she was saying, the way you always looked directly at Robin when you walked into the store like she was the whole reason you came there in the first place.
Steve softened a little at the conflicted look on her face.
“Look,” he started carefully, “I’m not saying you have to marry her or whatever-”
Robin groaned loudly before he could finish. “Oh my god.”
“But you should come tonight.”
Robin looked down, nervously picking at the peeling corner of a VHS sleeve while her heartbeat thudded violently in her ears. “What if she’s just messing around?”
“She’s not.”
“What if I make it weird?” Steve gave her a long look.
“Robin,” he said gently, “your entire personality is weird.”
“Exactly!”
“But it seems like she likes that!” Robin’s stomach flipped so hard she thought she might actually throw up. Steve smirked a little at the expression on her face before adding, softer this time, “Also, for the record? She’s freaking out just as much as you are.”
That made Robin pause. “…Really?”
“Oh yeah.” Steve laughed quietly to himself, leaning against the counter again. “She made me swear you didn’t hate her like three times last night.”
Robin stared at him in disbelief. “She thought I hated her?”
“Mhm.”
“That’s insane.”
“That’s exactly what I said.” Robin looked down again, chewing the inside of her cheek while her thoughts spiraled violently. You thought she hated you? Meanwhile Robin had spent the last month internally combusting every time you smiled at her.
Steve nudged her shoulder lightly as he passed behind the counter. “C’mon, just come hang out.”
Robin sighed heavily, already knowing she’d lost this argument five minutes ago, “This is going to ruin my life.”
Steve grinned immediately. “So that’s a yes?”
Robin pointed at him warningly. “If this ends horribly, I’m making it your problem forever.”
“Fair.”
“And if you ditch me there-”
“I won’t.”
“And if she actually doesn’t like me-”
“She does.” Robin groaned again, dragging both hands down her face while Steve’s grin only widened.
Robin almost didn’t come. Even after agreeing to it at work, she spent nearly forty minutes standing in front of her mirror debating whether faking her own death would somehow be easier than attending a party where you would definitely be present. Unfortunately, Steve Harrington was persistent to the point of being a public nuisance. By the time he picked her up, Robin was already irritated.
“You’re being weirdly intense about this,” she muttered while climbing into the passenger seat.
Steve looked personally offended. “I’m trying to help you.”
“I didn’t ask for help.”
“You literally had a thirty-minute breakdown because Y/n touched your hand while taking a receipt." Robin groaned loudly and slumped in her seat while Steve grinned like the world’s most annoying man. By the time they got to the party, Robin’s stomach had tied itself into approximately fourteen knots.
The house was already packed- music blasting through blown-out speakers while people crowded through the kitchen and spilled out onto the back patio. Somewhere upstairs, someone was screaming the lyrics to a Madonna song completely off-key. Robin followed Steve inside reluctantly, immediately scanning the room against her will, and there you were.
You stood near the living room couch with Nancy and Jonathan, laughing at something Argyle was saying while holding a red plastic cup between both hands. Robin noticed you before she could stop herself- the tiny shorts, the fitted top, the little jewelry around your neck catching the low light every time you moved. Then you looked up and smiled at her, causing Robin to nearly walk directly into Steve’s back.
“Oh my god,” Steve muttered under his breath without even turning around. “You are so screwed.”
“Shut up.”
You excused yourself from the group almost immediately after spotting them, weaving through people until you stopped directly in front of Robin with a grin that made her forget basic motor function for a second.
“Buckley,” you greeted casually, though your eyes flicked over her quickly enough to make her face warm. “You actually came.”
Robin shoved her hands into the pockets of her jacket immediately to stop herself from visibly panicking. “Yeah, well. Steve threatened me emotionally.”
“I did not,” Steve defended.
“You literally said I needed ‘social enrichment.’”
You let out a cute but genuine laugh- Robin almost smiled just from hearing it.
“That does sound like him,” you admitted.
Steve pointed triumphantly between you both. “See? Vibes already.”
Robin rolled her eyes hard. “Can you not say "vibes" ever again?”
“No promises.”
Nancy appeared beside you then, smiling knowingly at Robin in a way that immediately made her suspicious, “Hi, Robin.”
In a rare moment of coolness, she tilted her head up in a greeting as she smiled casually at Nancy, completely unaware that her relaxed energy was firing something up inside you, “Hey.”
Jonathan lifted his beer slightly in greeting from the couch while Argyle squinted at Robin for a second before going, “Ohhh, you’re the girl from Family Video.”
Robin blinked. “...Yeah?”
“The one she keeps talking about.” Your head whipped around so violently you almost spilled your drink.
“Argyle.” you seethed between clenched teeth
“What?” he asked innocently. Robin’s brain completely stopped functioning. Steve made a choking noise trying not to laugh while Nancy immediately smacked Argyle in the shoulder.
“You cannot just say things like that,” you hissed, horrified.
Argyle looked genuinely confused. “Why not?”
“Because- because she’s gonna pass out!” Robin was, in fact, considering it. But then she looked at you- really looked at you- and noticed you seemed just as embarrassed as she felt. Your face was burning, eyes wide with panic while everyone laughed around you, and weirdly enough, that made Robin relax- just a little.
“Okay,” Robin said slowly, recovering enough to glance at you sideways, “in my defense, you’re also kind of impossible not to talk about.”
Your mouth fell open slightly, shocked at her forwardness. Steve gasped and then immediately made the loudest, most dramatic gagging noise imaginable.
“Oh my god,” he groaned. “You guys are disgusting already.”
After that, things got easier surprisingly fast.
Robin still got nervous every time you looked directly at her for too long, but once the entire group settled into the living room together, the awkwardness slowly started melting away- mostly because Steve and Argyle were incapable of letting silence exist for longer than ten seconds.
At one point Jonathan and Nancy got pulled into an argument over horror movies while Steve passionately defended some terrible action film nobody else liked. Robin sat wedged into the corner of the couch beside you, listening to everyone yell over each other while you leaned closer every time you laughed. And Jesus Christ, you smelled good. Robin noticed that almost immediately and spent the next twenty minutes trying not to think about it.
Then your knee bumped hers- accidentally, probably- except neither of you moved away. Robin kept talking through it anyway, pretending she wasn’t hyperaware of the warmth of your leg pressed against hers. Meanwhile, you nodded along to whatever sarcastic rant she was going on about, chin resting lazily against your hand while you watched her with a soft smile that was making coherent thought increasingly difficult.
“You’re staring again,” Robin said finally, trying to sound casual, while your smile widened immediately. “Sorry. You’re funny.”
Robin looked away so fast it almost hurt her neck, which Steve noticed from across the room and looked seconds away from throwing himself through a window, trying not to laugh.
The drinking became a problem around an hour later. Not a real problem, but just enough of one that suddenly everything felt warmer and louder and significantly less terrifying.
You were sitting cross-legged on the floor now beside the coffee table while Robin leaned against the couch directly above you, both of you halfway through your fourth (or maybe fifth?) drinks while Steve attempted to teach Argyle and Jonathan some stupid hand game, as Nancy watched the entire thing unfold with increasing amusement.
Robin had reached the stage of drunk where she got louder and dramatically more animated with her storytelling. Which, unfortunately for you, was incredibly attractive.
“No, listen,” Robin insisted, grabbing your wrist suddenly while trying not to laugh, “this woman looked me dead in the eyes and asked if we carried ‘The Little Mermaid’ on cassette tape.”
You burst into laughter. “No she didn’t.”
“She DID.”
“What did you even say to that?”
Robin grinned proudly, even more relaxed than when she sat down. “I told her Ariel was unavailable for comment.”
You laughed hard enough to lean forward into Robin’s knees instinctively, and for one dangerous second Robin forgot how breathing worked. Because now you were touching her. All warm and giggly and drunk and pretty.
She looked down at you, absolutely helpless, while you looked back up at the same time, and there it was again- that horrible, terrifying, impossible thing that kept happening between you two whenever everyone else faded into the background. Your laughter softened first; Robin’s smile faded second; neither of you moved, until you lifted your drink to take a sip while maintaining eye contact
Then Steve’s drunk ass suddenly yelled from across the room, “Ohhhhhh, look who's being all friendly now!”
You choked on your drink immediately- Robin whipped a pillow directly at his head without even looking. Nancy started laughing so hard she nearly spilled her beer, while Jonathan looked deeply exhausted already.
Steve leaned in and pointed between you both with a smug grin. “You guys have been eye-fucking each other for like two hours.”
“Oh my god,” you groaned, covering your face.
Robin slumped dramatically backward against the couch cushions. “dude you are so drunk.”
“so're you!” Steve slurred, immediately hiccuping afterwards. But even through the embarrassment, Robin could still feel your shoulder pressed against her leg, and neither of you moved away from it once. That warmth, however, didn't last long, and Robin was still glaring at Steve when you pushed yourself up from the floor with a groan.
“I need another drink if I’m gonna survive this conversation,” you muttered.
“Bring me one?” Nancy asked immediately. You rolled your eyes fondly and waved her off before turning toward the kitchen and disappearing into the crowd. Robin tried very hard not to watch you go, and obviously failed, which Steve "nosiest person alive" Harrington noticed as soon as it happened.
“Oh my god,” he whispered dramatically to Jonathan. “She’s literally watching her leave.”
“I can hear you,” Robin snapped. Nancy laughed into her drink while Robin stood abruptly from the couch before she could think too hard about it.
“I also need a drink,” she announced to nobody. Steve’s grin became genuinely unbearable. “Sure you do.”
Robin reached for another pillow from the couch and threatened to throw it at him. Steve flinched dramatically and giggled drunkenly as his best friend flipped him off as she headed toward the kitchen.
The kitchen was much hotter than the living room- crowded shoulder-to-shoulder with people digging through coolers and yelling over the music. Robin spotted you immediately near the counter, pouring something suspiciously strong into a red cup while some guy tried unsuccessfully to flirt with you.
Robin watched you stare at him blankly for approximately three seconds before going, “Did you just compare yourself to Johnny Depp?”
The guy puffed up slightly. “People say I look like him.”
“Have you never been lied to before?” Robin snorted out loud before she could stop herself. You turned immediately (how you were even able to hear her in this mess was beyond her) face brightening the second you saw her standing there.
The guy looked between you both awkwardly before deciding he suddenly had somewhere else to be, and Robin stepped beside you as he disappeared into the crowd. “That was mean.”
You handed her a drink casually. “That was mercy.”
Robin hissed through her teeth, then laughed, her shoulder brushing yours lightly as she accepted the cup. “Yikes, poor guy.”
“He opened with ‘hey beautiful.’ He deserved it.”
“You hate when guys call you beautiful?”
You looked over at her knowingly. “Guys? Yes.”
Robin nearly inhaled her drink wrong, which caused you to grin instantly. “Oh my god, are you blushing, Buckley?”
“I am absolutely not.”
“You totally are.”
“It’s- it's hot in here!” You raised your brows at her in suspicion before nodding sarcastically with a teasing quirk of your lips. Robin opened her mouth with another argument ready, but you laughed softly and grabbed her wrist suddenly.
“C’mon.”
Robin blinked. “What?”
“It’s too crowded in here.” You were already tugging her gently through the kitchen before she could process the fact that your hand was still around her wrist. She followed automatically, past the hallway... and then past the bathroom where two people were loudly arguing... and then past a couple making out against the wall...
Until finally you pushed open a side door leading out onto the back patio, cold air hitting instantly. The muffled bass from inside still vibrated faintly through the walls, but out there, everything felt quieter somehow. Dim porch lights cast soft yellow shadows across the yard while distant voices echoed from somewhere near the fence.
Robin looked at you, taking you in, to see that you actually looked nervous now, which somehow made Robin even more nervous.
“You okay?” she asked softly. You nodded too quickly. “Yeah.”
You opened your mouth to continue, but buffered for a second, seeming to collect the confidence to speak
“I just wanted to talk to you without Steve screaming at us for five seconds.” Robin laughed quietly, looking down at her drink for a second before glancing back up. “Yeah. That’s fair.”
Another pause settled between you- softer this time. Not awkward, but charged with tension. Robin leaned back lightly against the porch railing while you stood close enough that your shoes nearly touched.
“You know,” you started carefully, eyes fixed on your cup, “I really thought you hated me at first.”
Robin looked genuinely startled. “What?”
“At Scoops.” You shrugged slightly. “You were always glaring at me.”
“Oh my god.” Robin groaned immediately. “I wasn’t glaring at you.”
“You totally were.”
“I was panicking.” Your eyebrows lifted slowly.
Robin laughed once, embarrassed now. “Steve used to make fun of me because every time you walked in I’d forget how to function.”
Your smile softened instantly, then you forced the teasing quirk back in for a moment. “There's no way you wanted me that bad so early on...”
Robin scoffed and rolled her eyes, "I might've had some predetermined, unsupported opinions on you, but I've always had eyes, and you've always been attractive."
Her confidence makes you scoff this time- in utter shock and disbelief at her blatant admittance to finding you attractive, "wait- so even when you were acting like you couldn't care less if i lived or died-"
"That never happened-"
"It totally did! You've ignored me soooomany times inschool" your words have really started to slur together at this point, face hot from the alcohol and the flirting, pitch raising ever so slightly to take on a more airy key.
Robin snorted softly. “Okay, first of all, I ignore everyone in school.”
“You wouldn't ignore Chrissy!”
“cuz she's friends with Vicky-”
Your laugh blended with your whining as you leaned a little closer without realizing it. “You were sooo mean to me., Robin”
She scoffs out a laugh of disbelief, a nervous but entertained smile staining her lips, “I was nervous!”
“You rolled your eyes at me once when I said hi to you in the hallway.”
Robin pointed immediately. “That was because Tommy was with you.”
You pulled back into yourself, disgusted, and blinked slowly “…What does Tommy have to do with anything?”
Robin looked away for exactly half a second too long, then muttered, “I thought you were dating him.”
Your mouth fell open instantly, “TOMMY??”
“In my defense,” Robin said quickly, already laughing at herself, “he followed you around constantly.”
“Because he was obsessed with Steve!”
“I know that now!” You doubled over laughing, nearly spilling your drink all over yourself while Robin watched helplessly, smiling so hard her cheeks hurt.
“Oh my god,” you wheezed. “You thought I had bad taste.”
“I was being judgmental!”
“Well duh.”
“I said unsupported opinions!” You laughed harder at that, head tipping forward until your forehead brushed briefly against Robin’s shoulder. The contact made both of you go still, both of your smiles fading, your faces heating up more. You stayed there for one dangerous second too long, warm against her, close enough now that Robin could feel your breath against her neck every time you laughed quietly.
When you finally looked back up, your faces were suddenly much closer than either of you remembered getting. Robin’s eyes flicked down to your lips instinctively before snapping back up again. You noticed, of course, your eyes softening immediately.
“You’re so pretty, Robin...” you mumble quietly, pulling the tiniest startled noise from her.
“You’re really drunk,” she whispered back, though she sounded breathless now.
“Mhm,” you hummed, shrugging as your eyes fluttered shut for a moment. “Still true, though.”
Robin laughed once under her breath, nervous and disbelieving and completely gone for you already. “You have no idea what you're doing to me.”
Your stomach flipped violently at that,
“Yeah?” you asked softly, gazing up at her. Robin gulped, nodding before she could stop herself. The porch suddenly felt too small, too warm despite the cold air. Your hand slid against the railing beside hers slowly- enough for your fingers to brush- Robin looked down at it, then back at you.
Apparently, Robin was drunk too, because the liquid courage was all it took for her to cup your cheek and lean in, pressing her lips to yours. It was quick at first- almost cautious, like she was still waiting for you to change your mind- but the second you kissed her back, Robin melted completely.
Your hand settled on her waist at the hem of her sweater as you leaned into her, smiling against her mouth immediately when Robin made a soft, overwhelmed sound into the kiss.
“See?” you murmured against her lips, dizzy and teasing. She could practically taste your teasing grin “You wanted me so bad.”
Robin laughed helplessly into another kiss, as you pulled her back in, gliding your hands up her waist to caress her collarbones and neck, sending a shiver down her spine. You dragged her backward a few steps, so that your back was against the side of the house.
The two of you continued to kiss, the tension only growing tighter as time passed. You bit her bottom lip, smirking as you felt her gasp and part her lips, pleased at how she was reacting exactly as you intended her to. Your tongue slipped into Robin's mouth, intertwining with hers, as both your breathing picked up.
Robin's hands gripped your hips as you slipped yours into her hair, tugging slightly. She groaned softly into your mouth, taking the initiative to push one of her legs between yours. The pressure against your core, along with the action itself, elicited a sharp gasp from you, followed by a high-pitched whine.
You decided to test the waters a bit by rolling your hips slowly against her thigh, pulling a deep sound from Robin as she pushed her leg up and pressed you down at the same time. The noise you let out only spurred her on, as Robin tugged on your belt loops, pulling you harder against her thigh and reinforcing the rhythm of your grinding. You moaned into her mouth, arms fully wrapping around her neck to pull her impossibly close.
You're not sure how long it went on like this, but at some point, you heard the side screen door slam open, scaring the shit out of you and Robin, causing you to jump apart. A handful of fellow drunk party-goers wandered out, slurring as they excitedly greeted you and kept walking.
After that night, you continued to flirt, amping it up to be even worse than before, honestly. And now that Robin understood it was, in fact, actual flirting, it somehow stressed her out more. In her mind, you wanting her and making it so obvious meant she had a lot of work to do to keep up, even though you've been wanting every version of you you've already come to know- the mean and avoidant, the floundering and awkward, and especially the occasional relaxed and charismatic.
If someone asked Robin if she was avoiding you, she'd say something along the lines of, "what?? of course not- why would i be avoiding her??" but if someone asked you what your thoughts were, it'd be a different story.
Steve was honestly about to lock the two of you in the storage closet and tell you to sort it out because he was getting sick of your whining and complaining. But he was mostly annoyed at your refusal to make a move, and Robin's internal system shutting down and not powering back on until you left.
The next time you all went out was a lot less fun. Not because of any sort of odd event, or because the music was worse, not even because the people sucked- But because Robin wasn't there, and apparently that was enough to ruin your entire night. Nancy figured this out approximately twenty minutes after arriving, and surprisingly, Steve figured it out immediately.
"Can you stop glancing longingly at the door, you know she's not coming."
You tore your eyes away from the entryway. "I am not glancing longingly, what the fuck"
No one looked remotely convinced. The worst part was that he wasn't wrong. Robin wasn't usually much of a party person anyway, but after what had happened the last time- the lingering touches, the stolen kiss on the back porch, the fact that you'd spent nearly three hours sitting shoulder-to-shoulder afterward- it felt weird not seeing her.
You'd expected her to come just to hang out with you, and maybe that was your mistake. Maybe you'd gotten a little spoiled...
The first drink made you miss her. The second drink made you dramatic about missing her. By the third, you were becoming a genuine problem.
"I just don't get it." Steve groaned into his beer.
"The beginning of the speech." Nancy laughed into her cup. You ignored both of them and carried on
"I mean, we had fun!"
"We know," Steve said.
"We kissed."
"We know."
"You don't know everything."
"I know enough." You frowned at him.
"That's so invasive."
Steve physically dropped his head onto the table with a drawn-out groan, "You've been talking about her for an hour."
The night only deteriorated from there. Every conversation somehow circled back to Robin; every topic reminded you of her, every joke made you wish she were there to hear it. And because alcohol had completely removed your ability to feel embarrassment, you weren't keeping any of those thoughts to yourself. By the time you started loudly wondering whether Robin was at home thinking about you, Steve looked ready to throw himself through a wall.
"Oh my god."
"What?"
"You're fucking obsessed with her." You gasped, and Nancy laughed so hard she nearly spilled her drink.
"I'm not obsessed."
"You called her beautiful six times."
"She is beautiful."
"You don't even know you're doing it anymore." You opened your mouth. Paused. Then pointed at him, only to say nothing. Steve stood up immediately after that
"Okay. That's enough."
"What?"
"You are cut off." You stared at him, incredulously, then at Nancy, who just shrugged. "I agree with him."
"This is a dictatorship."
"No," Steve said, grabbing your shoulders. "This is intervention."
The next thing you knew, he was steering you through his house while you complained the entire way.
"You guys are being mean to me."
"We're saving Robin from hearing whatever's about to come out of your mouth next."
"I have lots of good things to say about Robin."
"I KNOW."
By the time Steve deposited you onto his bed upstairs, you were pouting hard enough to rival a toddler. "There."
He pointed at you. "Drink water."
"I don't want water."
"Too bad."
"I want Robin to come over." Steve groaned so loudly it echoed down the hallway.
"Goodnight." Then he left, storming back to the rest of the group. That traitor...
For a while, you laid sprawled across his comforter staring at the ceiling. Music vibrated faintly through the floorboards beneath you, voices drifted up from downstairs.
You rolled over dramatically and stared at Steve's nightstand, your eyes landing on the phone sitting on top of it- a terrible idea occurred to you instantly.
Within minutes, you were dialing Robin's number from memory. The line rang- once... twice... three times-
"Hello?" Your entire face lit up as you breathed out, "Robin!"
There was a pause, "...Why are you calling me from Steve's house?"
You smiled stupidly at the sound of her voice, "cuz I miss you."
The silence on the other end was long. Robin was sitting cross-legged by herself on her bedroom floor when she'd answered, now she was very glad nobody else was around because her face had gone completely red.
"You... are drunk."
"Maybe."
"You are."
You kicked your feet against Steve's mattress and twist the cord around your finger, "You should've come."
Robin closed her eyes. There was something about drunk you that was particularly dangerous- not because you got reckless, but because you got more honest. Painfully honest.
"I had plans."
"You should've canceled them."
"That's not how plans work."
"It is when I want you somewhere."
Robin's breath got caught in her throat before she sighed out, pressing her face into one hand. "Oh my god."
You sighed dramatically. "I've been having a terrible time."
"You've been at a party..."
"Without you." The way you said it made something warm twist inside her chest, and she had to try very hard not to smile.
"You're ridiculous."
"Steve misses you too." she huffed out laugh, "No he doesn't."
"Okay, maybe that one was a lie." Robin chuckled despite herself, the sound making you smile immediately.
"You need to go to sleep."
"I need you to come here."
"Sorry, but I'm gonna have to say no to that one."
"Please?"
"No." You groaned loudly. Robin could practically picture you rolling around dramatically on Steve's bed.
"Robiiiiiiiin" she hated that she was even telling you no- she felt stupid for telling you no! Especially when she had you whining her name over the phone, begging her to show up and rescue you from your lonesome.
But maybe that's why she was doing it...
Not because Robin knew herself and knew she'd fold the second she saw you, and give you whatever you wanted- even though that much was still true. She was basking in the pride it was bringing her to listen to you say her name over and over again, waiting for her to give in and let you have your way, because you both knew she'd eventually give in to you.
"Sorry, pretty girl, not gonna happen." Robin wasn't completely unaware of the damage she was doing- she had some idea that her words alone, delivered softly by her raspy voice, had some effect on you.
What she didn't know was how you held your breath for a moment, squeezing the pillow you were resting on and pressing your thighs together, before you relaxed.
"Robin, please."
"No."
"Robin!" She laughed. "God, you sound five years old."
"I miss you." The words came softer this time, less dramatic and whiny, more genuine and breathy. Robin's chest tightened, and you were quiet for a second.
"Will you come get me?"
Robin blinked. "What?"
"Come get me."
"You are not serious."
"I am- extremely serious."
"I can't..."
"Why?"
"Because you are drunk."
"Exactly."
"That's not helping your argument." You huffed
"Steve won't take me home." Robin snorted immediately
"Steve Harrington would absolutely take you home." You considered that. "...Okay, maybe."
"He definitely would."
"But then he'd have to leave his own party."
"He would still do it."
"Yeah..." you paused, then continued, much quieter "But I want it to be you."
Robin's stomach flipped, hard. The music downstairs was distant now, and the room around her felt strangely warm. She leaned back against her bed frame and stared at the wall for a long moment. On the other end of the line, you lay still, eyes fluttering as you peacefully waited for her next response.
"Robin?"
"Hm?"
"I really like you." The confession was so simple, so earnest. Robin squeezed her eyes shut, a smile pulling at her mouth despite how hard she was biting her bottom lip.
"You are going to be so embarrassed by this tomorrow."
"Nope."
"You will."
"I won't."
"You definitely will."
You hummed thoughtfully, then followed with complete certainty, "Then I can be embarrassed in your bed."
Robin barked out a laugh, sighing as it died down, letting the comfortable silence hang for a moment more, "okay..."
The line went dead, and somewhere upstairs in Steve Harrington's house, you smiled so hard your cheeks hurt at the sound, knowing you won and that she'd be on her way in a matter of minutes.
She arrived at the Harrington house about 15 minutes later, bracing herself to deal with the crowd as well as whatever her friends were inevitably going to say to her once they realized why she was there.
She walked right past Nancy and Jonathon, who were sitting on the couch, and somehow managed to bypass Steve, who was yapping some girl's ear off.
When Robin finally makes her way upstairs, she passes the other closed doors that surely hide plenty of couples up to no good. She stood outside Steve's bedroom door, her hand shaking as it hovered over the doorknob. Do I knock? She might already be passed out by now...
Robin took a deep breath and turned the knob, trying to push the door open as quietly as possible, just in case. And as she regained her breath, she lost it just as quickly, taking in the sight before her.
There you lay, in Steve Harrington's bed, on your stomach, one arm folded under your head as you rest your cheek on it, pouting, as the other hangs off the bed. Your little dress had risen up to just barely cover your ass- Robin's pretty sure she can see your dark red lace panties, but she tries not to stare for too long.
Not like you gave her much time to stare anyway, cuz as soon as you saw her, you perked up with a gasp. You practically rolled off the bed before bounding over to her and wrapping your arms around her neck, tucking your face, and letting out a soft, satisfied moan. Robin placed her hands on your hips, securing you and making sure you wouldn't fall over. She subconsciously rubbed your hip as you nuzzled your face in her neck.
"Take me home, Robbie..." you mumbled against her skin. Robin couldn't help but huff out a laugh. If anyone else had called her that, or whined the way you did, it would have annoyed her beyond explanation and made her cringe out of her skin... but it's you.
Robin's rubbing on your hips became more intentional on her end, and thus more apparent to you, causing you to whine against her once more. Robin had no plans of doing anything with you tonight, other than going to sleep, but teasing you and getting your hopes up a little wouldn't hurt...
"My house or yours, baby?" She softly questioned, letting her head lean, cheek resting against the top of your hair. You sighed into her neck and squeezed your arms a little tighter, pulling yourself closer against her. It was too easy to tease you when you were like this- Robin wished you were this clingy all the time. Or maybe she wished she were this confident and relaxed all the time.
"Don't care, jus' wanna go with you..." you murmured and finished off your request with an open-mouthed kiss to her neck, sending a shiver down her spine. Robin squeezed her eyes shut for a second.
Jesus Christ.
You were going to be the death of her. You were just drunk enough to forget about self-consciousness, clinging to her like she was the only solid thing in the room.
"Yeah, okay," she said softly. "Let's get you out of here."
You made a pleased sound and somehow managed to cling even tighter. The sight would've been embarrassing and borderline heart-stopping under normal circumstances. But for some reason, Robin found it strangely endearing tonight.
She carefully untangled herself enough (not without you whining and complaining, of course) to grab your purse from Steve's desk before guiding you toward the door. You followed without complaint, staying close enough that your shoulder kept bumping hers.
"Oh no," Robin muttered.
You looked up.
"What?"
"Our friends." Downstairs, Steve spotted the two of you almost immediately, his face lighting up with the kind of expression Robin absolutely hated.
"There she is!" Robin bit back a groan, but continued down the staircase with you in tow.
Steve pointed dramatically. "I knew you'd show up eventually."
"Oh, who cares..." You leaned heavily against Robin's side and smiled sleepily.
"Told you she'd come get me." Steve nearly fell over laughing. Robin seriously considered turning around and dragging you home without another word, leaving Steve there to laugh by himself.
Instead, she rolled her eyes, bid your drunken friend a goodnight, and guided you toward the front door while your friends continued yelling things neither of you acknowledged.
The cold night air felt good after the crowded house, causing you to sigh contentedly the second you reached her car. Robin opened the passenger door for you, but you paused to look at her before getting in.
"Hm?" Robin asked, and you looked at her for a moment, eyes heavy with exhaustion.
"Thanks for coming." The simple sincerity of it caught her completely off guard, her expression softening immediately.
"Of course I came." You smiled at that. The kind of real smile that always seemed to make Robin's chest feel too tight. Then you climbed into the car, already half-asleep, before she could even put the car in drive. She shook her head fondly as she took off, thinking about how embarrassing tomorrow morning would be for both of you.
When you arrived at her place, Robin shook you slightly to wake you. She helped you inside, laid out a pair of her clothes for you to change into, and brought you water.
The night ended with Robin trying not to freak out as you refused to let her sleep anywhere else but beside you, clinging to her like she was a life-size teddy bear.
Morning arrived slowly. The first thing you became aware of was sunlight- thin strips of gold spilled through the curtains, warming the room in uneven patches and making it impossible to keep sleeping. Your head felt heavy, your mouth dry, and every thought seemed to arrive several seconds later than it normally would.
For a long moment, you just lay there staring at the ceiling. The room felt unfamiliar as you still tried to adjust and keep your eyes open for more than a second
Your gaze landed on the bookshelf against the far wall, then the stack of cassette tapes, then the movie posters- the cluttered desk, sage walls, and record player filling in the blanks for you.
You groaned softly and dropped an arm over your face. Somewhere nearby, you heard a quiet laugh, temporarily frozen in place, before slowly turning your head.
Robin was sitting on the floor beside the bed with a mug balanced between both hands. She looked like she'd been awake for a while already, her hair slightly messy from sleep and an oversized sweater hanging off one shoulder, the morning light catching the freckles across her face.
"You look terrified," she observed as you immediately buried your face back into the pillow, drawing another warm laugh from her.
As you tried not to think too much about how comforting the sound was, your mind shifted back to the night before, your embarrassment arriving all at once.
You perked up, snapping your panicked gaze back to Robin, "Oh no."
"Oh yes." You groaned louder and flopped back down against her pillow as Robin looked entirely too pleased with herself.
The room settled into a comfortable quiet for a few moments after that. Outside, birds chirped somewhere beyond the window. A car passed on the street. The world had already started moving while the two of you remained tucked away from it for a little while longer.
Eventually, you sat up, pulling the blanket around yourself as you blinked against the sunlight and subconsciously pouted. Robin watched you over the rim of her mug; you watched her back, and neither of you seemed particularly interested in looking away.
The previous weeks felt strange in retrospect- so much nervousness, so much second-guessing, so much time spent wondering what the other person was thinking. Now, sitting together in the quiet morning light, everything felt simpler, despite the embarrassment of last night's desperation.
The realization that being with Robin felt good and simple settled warmly somewhere in your chest, and she clocked it in your expression immediately.
"What?" You shook your head. "Nothing."
The smile that appeared on her face suggested she didn't believe you for a second, but she didn't push. Instead, she leaned back against the side of the bed and stared out the window for a moment.
The sunlight painted soft gold across the room, and you found yourself smiling without meaning to as you noticed the way things glowed a little differently in the light. The threads of her sweater were more shimmery than matte, her hands seemed a little more delicate and fair, her freckles were enchanting regardless of the lighting.
Your enamored gaze never wavered, and for the first time all morning, Robin looked away first, which, of course, made your smile widen.
Maybe the day would bring teasing from Steve, questions from Nancy, an absolutely humiliating recollection of everything you'd said while drunk- but for now, none of that mattered.
For now, it was just the two of you sharing a quiet morning and trying not to smile too hard whenever the other wasn't looking.
Eventually, reality caught up with you, specifically, the reality that you felt gross. Your hair was a mess, your makeup had mostly disappeared, and your mouth tasted vaguely like every bad decision you'd made the night before.
With a groan, you pushed the blankets aside and climbed out of bed, heading toward her door like you'd been here a million times. "I need to brush my teeth."
Robin laughed. "Yeah. You do."
You gasped and whipped back around to face her, "That was mean!"
She chuckled shyly, taking a sip from her mug with a shrug, "It was honest."
You huffed dramatically and drowsily stormed off as Robin's eyes followed, staying trained on the doorway even after you were out of her sight. Once she heard the bathroom door click shut, she immediately dropped her head back against the mattress. Because now that you weren't there distracting her, she had time to think, which was unfortunate.
The previous night kept replaying in fragments.
Your phone call. The way you'd sounded when she'd answered. The sight of you practically launching yourself across Steve's room when she'd arrived. The fact that you'd chosen her- not Steve or Nancy, who were already there and would've been more than willing to get you home safe- Her.
Robin rubbed both hands over her face. God. She was in trouble...
Several minutes later, the bathroom door opened again, causing Robin to look up automatically and forget her train of thought.
You still looked tired and a little hungover, but you seemed to have washed your face and fixed your hair as much as possible. Even when you were supposed to look a mess, you still looked unfairly pretty.
"I'm hoping that unopened toothbrush on the counter was for me and that I didn't accidentally just add something to your grocery list..." you leaned against her doorframe, radiating comfortable charm that you seemed to have regained after washing off some of last night's embarrassment.
"Yeah... yeah, of course it was for you..." Robin was a little breathless as she took in the sight of you, aware that you likely just used her face wash are still dressed in her clothes
The room was quiet except for the distant sound of someone mowing a lawn somewhere outside, as sunlight spilled across the floor between you. Robin pushed off the floor and moved to sit cross-legged on the bed, while you still stood a few feet away. And suddenly all the teasing and awkwardness from earlier seemed to disappear.
A small, soft smile tugged at the corner of Robin's mouth first, causing your chest to squeeze. Without really thinking about it, you crossed the room, and Robin's eyes followed your every movement. When you stopped beside the bed, she tipped her head back slightly to look up at you.
"Good morning," Robin said quietly.
You let out an amused huff, lip quirking up more, "We've literally been awake for an hour."
"I know." Neither of you moved, not seeming particularly interested in creating any distance either. The morning sunlight painted gold across Robin's hair and freckles, captivating you beyond explanation
Across her lips was a soft smile she was trying (and failing) to hide, mirrored by your own before you could even think to stop it.
Then, almost naturally, like it was the simplest thing in the world, you leaned down, and Robin met you halfway, as your lips connected in the softest greeting. It was a brief, gentle kiss- nothing fueled by lust or alcohol or adrenaline- just pure and sweet.
It was a quiet confirmation of everything that had already been building between you. And a much-needed one, at that
When you pulled apart, Robin was still smiling, as were you, and for a moment, the world stood still as neither of you said anything.
Eventually, Robin let out a quiet laugh and shook her head, flopping back onto her bed and staring at the ceiling dreamily, like she couldn't quite believe this was real. You smiled back just as helplessly, glancing softly down at her, before allowing yourself to lie down and curl into her.
For the first time in what felt like forever, neither of you had to wonder.
summary: you can't be more obvious about how badly you want to hop on Robin and wear her out, and Robin is absolutely clueless. and as entrained as Steve is, he's tired of watching it.
warnings/tags: fluff, suggestive reader is kinda giving mean/bossy femme but like... in a fun cunty way of course, Robin literally has no clue reader is flirting with her and is completely lost, teasing... so much teasing, drunk makeout session, brief dry-humping/thigh riding/grinding, timeline is kinda weird (just ignore how it makes no sense with the canon timeline), first thousand-ish words are just backstory and Steve's ally origin story... other character may seem slightly ooc cuz i gave up on trying to make all the friends and connections canonically accurate lol, i got really lazy while trying to read over this so it's not exactly proofread but i did have someone else beta edit (thoughts and prayers for this one...)
wc: 11.8k
You and Steve Harrington have been good friends for as long as you can remember. Well- sort of. You didn't really get along as kids, but you were neighbors and close in age, whose parents got along well, which put you two in the position of being around each other more than either of you had wanted.
This developed into some sort of sibling-like annoyance that had both of you coiling in disgust any time someone would insinuate anything other than a platonic dynamic between you two.
You were both fairly popular and involved in school activities, always finding each other in similar crowds, and seeking comfort in knowing you were both putting up some sort of front.
It was pretty early on in your high school career that Steve realized you were very different from every other girl in his life. Your name had been brought up by multiple people in many different contexts. He has denied many accusations of him having a crush on you, and the other way around, because it's never been like that. He's definitely thought about it before, and after things went terribly wrong with Nancy, he even tried to force himself to consider it as an option. He quickly reaffirmed this as a terrible idea that would work because 1) you are far more evil than Nancy Wheeler, and would tear him to shreds, and 2) Steve Harrington was well-aware that you did not have any romantic or sexual interest in men.
He had always wondered why you never had a boyfriend like all the other girls you hung around with. Steve had always just chalked it up to the fact that you were still young, or that you just had other priorities ("Y/n's really smart- she's too busy with school to care about any of you losers" is definitely something he's said to his own friends in your defense when he started having his suspicions).
Everything was confirmed one night at a party after he and Nancy had officially ended things. Steve had been handling the breakup pretty badly, and you, of course, being the only real friend he had, were there to hold him together. He was so drunk at one point that you had to take him outside because he was overheating. You sat on a stoop at the side of the house, just letting him complain and whine about Nancy. At some point, you started getting annoyed and interrupted,
"I mean, Steve, she said she didn't love you... and you want her back? That's so unfair to you! You need to be with someone who actually cares about you and what you want. Nancy's great, but your goals don't align at ALL- and how she handled that was HORRIBLE-" You continued ranting about something related to Steve and Nancy and love and how he deserves to be loved wholly, and Steve, in his drunken state, started formulating thoughts. You were beautiful, funny, smart, and always kept it real with him... why had he never actually considered you? Sure- you were mean to every other guy who tried to put a move on you, but... maybe it could be different (he knew it wouldn't be). He had thought back on all the times you'd interacted with each other, then on all the times he'd seen you interact with other guys. You never really seemed interested in anyone- in fact, you seemed kind of disgusted and irritated any time you had to talk to a guy. Which was so weird, because Steve has seen you be kind and sweet so many other times!
Then he started thinking about all those times...
"Y/n-" Steve cut off whatever you were saying. You looked at him with wide eyes, honestly scared he was about to throw up or pass out.
"What..."
"Why don't you like boys?" he slurred. And Steve might have been plastered, but he never forgot how pale your face got, and how scared you looked when he asked you that question.
"Excuse me?" Steve shook his head softly, reaching for your hand and squeezing it.
"Don't look at me like that- it's not scary- justaquestion..." He wasn't making any sense...
"I don't know what you're talking about..." Steve let out a slow, disbelieving laugh, head tipping back against the siding of the house.
“C’mon,” he mumbled. “You hate every guy that talks to you.”
“I do not.”
“You do,” he insisted, pointing at you lazily. “Every time Tommy has tried flirting with you, you looked like you wanna to kill him-"
"that's because Carol's obviously obsessed with him, and it's- ugh, it's Tommy."
"Right, and when Jason Carver asked for your number, you told him to eat shit and die.” “And that was funny.”
“It was terrifying.” You rolled your eyes hard enough to hurt, but your stomach was twisting violently. Steve was drunk, yes, but he wasn’t stupid. He noticed things, always had.
“You’re imagining things,” you muttered.
“Am not.” His voice softened suddenly, unexpectedly serious beneath the slur. “I know you.”
And he was right- he did know you, and that's what made you feel sick.
Steve Harrington knew you better than almost anyone. Better than your parents, maybe. Better than any other guy you've ever talked to. Better than the girls you floated between at school. He knew every version of your moods, every look on your face, every stupid little habit.
And apparently, he knew this too.
Your fingers tightened around the sleeves of your jacket. “Steve-”
“You don’t gotta act weird about it,” he interrupted quietly. “I’m not judging you.” You stared at him, and Steve, drunk out of his mind and glassy-eyed under the porch light, just shrugged like it was obvious.
“I think it’s kinda cool, actually.”
The breath you’d been holding escaped all at once. For a second, neither of you spoke. Then Steve squinted at you suddenly, brows pulling together in concentration. “Wait.”
"What?"
"Oh my god..." “Oh my god?”
“WAIT-” You covered your face immediately. “Steve, don’t.”
His mouth dropped open slowly like the world’s dumbest revelation had just hit him.
“You like girls.” you smack him, “Keep your voice down!”
“You LIKE girls.”
“Yes, asshole, I know this, and I figured you gathered that from the conversation!” Steve started laughing so hard he nearly fell sideways off the stoop. You grabbed his arm on instinct, mortified beyond belief while he clung to your sleeve, still cackling.
“I knew it,” he said triumphantly.
“You absolutely did not.”
“I totally did.”
“You thought I was a communist last month.”
“That was unrelated.” You groaned, dragging your hands down your face. “I cannot believe this is happening right now.”
Steve looked at you then- really looked at you- and the laughter faded into something softer.
“So that’s why,” he said quietly.
“Why what?”
“You never liked any of those idiots.”
You snorted. “Well, I mean- yeah... but even if I did like guys, I would never go out with most of those weirdos.”
Steve smiles softly, releasing a huff of laughter, “fair enough.” He nodded slowly, like that made perfect sense to him.
Then, because he was Steve, and because he was drunk and incapable of shutting up, he asked “So who do you like?”
Your eyes widened instantly. “Nobody-” he scoffs, “Liar.”
“Steve-” he dramatically tosses himself onto you, leaning his head on your shoulder, “C’mon, tell meee-”
“No!” “You totally have someone.”
“I literally do not.” But you did, or at least… maybe. You barely even knew her, which was the pathetic part.
Robin Buckley was sarcastic and kind of mean and entirely too smart for everyone around her. The first time you’d really noticed her was at your homecoming pep rally earlier that year- she, of course, was in the band, and you were one of the only juniors who made homecoming court.
You accidentally bumped into each other right as everyone was starting to gather in the gymnasium. She ended up dropping her sheet music, and you obviously helped her pick it up, seeing as you felt terrible. You still remember apologizing sweetly and feeling your face go hot as you met her beautiful blue eyes, immediately getting lost in the sea of freckles scattered across her face.
You also remember her not really giving a fuck and pursing her lips as she delivered a casual, "thanks" before moving on like it never happened in the first place... that was slightly humbling.
Then summer came- Steve graduated and was forced to work at Scoops Ahoy, which you tried not to give him too much shit for, since you knew deep down it was an insecurity for him. You'd come in every now and then with friends, timing your arrival with Steve's shifts, until you caught one of the times when him and Robin were both at the front- you switched up your routine shortly after.
It was fascinating watching them interact- Steve didn’t let people talk to him how she did, not usually. But with Robin, he just rolled his eyes and kept talking, like he liked being challenged by her. And Robin looked at Steve differently than everyone else did, too. Not like he was King Steve Harrington. Just Steve- annoying, idiot Steve. Your Steve.
You liked that. Maybe a little too much...
Then they started working together at Family Video, and suddenly Robin Buckley became unavoidable. Steve talked about her constantly- Robin said this, Robin hates this movie, Robin threatened to strangle me with the film of a VHS tape today.
And every time you came into Family Video, there she was behind the counter with her crossed arms and unimpressed expression and stupid pretty eyes.
At first, you told yourself you only came because Steve worked there and you loved bothering him in your free time. Then Robin started smiling when you walked in, and that ruined your life a little.
What really got you, though, was seeing Steve act casual around another girl- the same way he was with you. Which meant Robin probably knew- or at least… maybe she’d understand. And once that possibility entered your brain, you completely lost your mind.
so you started visiting every day, amping up your flirting to be painfully obvious. It was almost embarrassing how obvious you were being. wearing your lowest cut shirts and tiniest shorts, batting your eyes and pouting at Robin as you leaned your elbows on the counter, making sure to push your tits together just enough to draw attention.
Of course, Robin loses her mind. How could she not? She's just so confused, cuz there's no way you're doing this on purpose- why would she look at ME with those big doe eyes? Why would she bite her lip at ME? WINK at ME????
It was causing a lot of inner turmoil. And part of you thought it was working, considering Robin went from glaring at you and not having much to say, to constantly having the deer-in-the-headlights gaze, and always having something to ramble on about as an answer to any of your simple questions. It was quite entertaining, to say the least.
But of course, the less secure part of you was riddled with anxiety, conjuring up hypotheticals that Robin didn't actually like you, and she wasn't blushing out of shyness but rather discomfort. Were you making her uncomfortable? Does she think you're making fun of her?
Steve noticed it all after exactly one week.
“You’re flirting with Robin.” You nearly choked on your drink. “I’m literally not.”
“Bullshit- you totally are!” Steve, ever the endearing idiot, argues with a mouthful of fries as he sat across from you in the booth. It was a Thursday night, and agreed earlier in the week that you'd pick him up and grab dinner after his shift at Family Video. You probably wouldn't have done so, had you known he was going to ambush you about your secret crush.
You stared at him for a long second before scoffing and stealing a fry from his basket. “You’re insane.”
“I’m observant.” “You absolutely are not.”
“You wore that tiny little black skirt yesterday.” Your eyes narrowed. “Wow- okay creep,”
“And you kept leaning over the counter every five seconds like you were going to jump on her.” You almost inhaled your drink wrong. “I was not.”
“She dropped three tapes.” “And what does that have to do with me?”
“She alphabetized the returns bin wrong.” You paused. Steve pointed triumphantly. “HA!”
“Oh my god.”
“She never messes that up,” he continued, leaning forward now with genuine investment in the topic. “Do you understand how insane that is? Robin would rather die than shelve movies incorrectly.”
You groaned, dragging both hands over your face. “Can you at least lower your voice?” Steve flinched, as if suddenly remembering he was in public, and scanned the diner for any onlookers. Once he knew he was in the clear, his expression shifted instantly.
“Oh my god,” he whispered loudly, eyes wide. “You actually like her.”
Heat exploded across your face so fast it hurt. “No I do not.”
“Yes you do.” “No I-”
“You have a crush on Robin Buckley.” he jabbed a finger in your direction from across the table, a victorious grin overtaking his face.
“Steve-” “You have a crush on Robin Buckley,” he repeated with increasing delight, like he’d just solved a complex murder case.
“Okay, how many times are you gonna say it?”
“This is incredible.”
“You are being so annoying right now.” Steve sat back in the booth, grinning so hard it was unbearable. “Holy shit.”
You kicked him under the table. “OW- Hey!”
“Keep your voice down!” you hiss through clenched teeth.
Steve leaned forward again immediately, lowering his tone theatrically. “Sorry. Sorry.” He paused for half a second before his smirk returned. “You’re in love with Robin Buckley.”
“I'm gonna fucking kill you.”
“You sooo are.” You dropped your head onto the table with a muffled groan. While this was obviously humiliating for you, Steve, unfortunately, seemed to be having the time of his life.
“When did this even happen?” he asked excitedly. “Was it the homecoming thing?”
Your head snapped up. “How do you know about that?”
“Because you came home after the pep rally acting weird as hell.”
“I did not.”
“You sat on the porch and stared at our mailbox for like ten minutes.”
You blinked, mouth slightly agape, “…I was thinking.”
“You were gay processing.” “What the hell??”
Steve laughed so hard he had to put his fries down. Meanwhile, your heart was beating violently against your ribs because this was real now. Someone else knew- and for better or for worse, it was Steve Harrington.
You picked at the label on your cup quietly. “I think I already fucked it up.” you sigh pitifully.
Steve’s laughter faded immediately, “What?”
You shrugged, trying and failing to look casual. “I dunno... Maybe I’m being weird. I think she thinks I’m making fun of her or something.”
“What?” Steve frowned hard. “Why would she think that?”
“Because I’m laying it on kinda thick.” Steve snorted. “Kinda?”
You glared at him and he rolls his eyes, “She likes it.”
“Uhm, she probably doesn't.” Steve furrowed his brows and chewed on his straw, “Uhm, I would be the one to know- I literally work with her, and it's pretty obvious to tell when Robin's freaking out over something or someone.”
Your stomach twisted. “Steve.”
“No, seriously.” He leaned forward again, suddenly earnest. “Robin freaks out over plenty of things, but she does not act like that around people she’s "uncomfortable" with.”
You stared at him, waiting for an elaboration. Steve shrugged, “Usually, if Robin doesn’t like someone, she'll let them know- she usually just gets meaner.”
“…She was mean to me at first.”
“Yeah, because she thought you were hot.” Your jaw dropped, "No way..."
Steve blinked, like he hadn’t realized the words were coming out until they already had, then he doubled down immediately-
“She did!” he insisted. “The first time you came into Scoops after noticing her, she literally forgot how to make a milkshake.”
“She did not!” he leaned in further, “She handed some kid melted ice cream in a cup and told him it was a ‘new concept.’”
A horrified laugh escaped you before you could stop it, you burried you face in your hands and shook your head.
Steve pointed again. “See! And now every time you come into Family Video she turns into a malfunctioning robot.”
You shook your head more aggressively, as if trying to rid your brain of the possibility of her liking you back, “She does not.”
“She asked a guy if he wanted to rent ‘Back to the Future’ yesterday while holding ‘Dirty Dancing.’”
You covered your face with both hands, groaning. “Oh my god, now I'm just getting second hand embarassment.”
“I’m serious!” Steve laughed. “You should see her when you walk in. It’s actually embarrassing.”
Your voice came out muffled through your fingers. “You’re lying to make me feel better.”
“I’m literally not smart enough to make that up.” Unfortunately, that was true. You slowly lowered your hands. “So… you really think she doesn’t hate me?”
Steve looked genuinely offended. “Hate you? Dude, I think Robin Buckley has spent the last week trying not to have a nervous breakdown every time you walk through the door”
Your stomach flipped violently, “That obvious?”
“To me? Yeah.” He took another fry casually. “But Robin’s oblivious in a completely different way than you are.”
You narrowed your eyes. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Steve smirked. “You think she hates you because she gets nervous.”
“And?”
“And Robin probably thinks you’re just naturally like…” He gestured vaguely with a fry. “All that.”
“All what?”
Steve made an exasperated sound, irritated he had to spell it out even further for you. “You know- pretty, flirty, intimidating- all that shit. I mean- you're like me, but like- not like me at all i guess...”
You barked out a disbelieving laugh. “Robin is intimidating.”
“Not once you get to know her... but I mean- yeah sure, she can be- but you wear tiny little outfits and stare at her like you’re trying to seduce her out of giving you late fees.”
Your face burned hot enough to melt skin as you sank into your seat. “I don’t stare at her.”
Steve just looked at you, “…Okay maybe a little.”
“A little,” he repeated flatly. Silence settled for a second before Steve’s expression softened.
“You should ask her to hang out.” Your eyes widened immediately. “Absolutely not.”
“Why not?”
“Because I’d rather die.”
Steve rolled his eyes so hard that you're surprised they didn't fall out. “You are ridiculous.”
“What if she says no?”
“She won’t.” Steve watched you slouch slightly, the pout on your lips deepening
“You don’t know that.” he sighed and leaned his elbows on the table
“I know Robin.” He shrugged. “And I know you.”
Something about the way he said it made your chest ache a little.. Because Steve really did know you, better than anyone.
He nudged your foot under the table. “Just talk to her like a normal person.”
You stared at him blankly “…I think we both know it’s too late for that.”
Friday afternoons at Family Video were usually painfully boring, which was why Robin immediately knew Steve was up to something. He’d been weird all day, and not his normal Robin-look-at-this-horrible-movie-cover weird, either. This was different- he kept glancing at her every couple minutes like he was trying not to smile about something.
“You’re acting suspicious,” Robin finally said from behind the counter, narrowing her eyes as she scanned a returned tape.
Steve looked up too quickly. “What? No I’m not.”
“You absolutely are.”
“I’m literally standing here.”
“Yeah, suspiciously.” Steve rolled his eyes, reorganizing the candy display with an amount of focus that immediately confirmed her point.
Robin pointed at him. “See? That.”
“What?”
“You only attempt to alphabetize things when you’re hiding something.”
“That is a crazy thing to observe about somebody, and I do not do that.”
“You reorganized the entire romance section after you found out I failed my Spanish test.”
“That was unrelated.”
“You color-coded it.”
Steve shrugged innocently without looking at her. “It looked nice.”
Robin stared at him for another long second, watching the way he kept biting back a smile like he physically couldn’t help it. Then her eyes widened dramatically.
“Oh my god.” Steve froze mid-adjustment, slowly side-eyeing her over his shoulder.
“You got laid.”
“What?!” His voice cracked so violently Robin almost laughed before he even continued. “I didn’t- why is that your first assumption?!”
Robin pointed harder now, absolutely delighted with herself. “You DID.”
“I did not!”
“Steve, you’re glowing with heterosexual confidence right now.”
“I am not glowing!”
“You’re practically sparkling.” Steve groaned loudly, rubbing a hand down his face in exasperation while Robin grinned smugly from behind the counter.
“Can you relax?”
“No,” she said immediately. “This is the most interesting thing that’s happened all week.”
And unfortunately for Steve, that would’ve been true.
The store fell quiet for a moment after that, save for the soft static crackling from the old television mounted in the corner. Some cheesy action movie played silently across the screen while fluorescent lights buzzed overhead. Robin went back to sorting returns, though she kept glancing up at Steve suspiciously every few seconds. Meanwhile, Steve hovered awkwardly near the counter like a man seconds away from making a terrible decision.
“You should come to Becky’s party tonight.”
Robin blinked slowly. “…What?”
Steve shrugged with forced casualness, shoving his hands into the pockets of his vest. “There’s a party tonight.”
“I know,” Robin said flatly. “You just said that.”
“Cool.”
“Why would I go?” Steve looked at her like the answer was painfully obvious. “Because you never go anywhere.”
Robin scoffed loudly. “I go places.”
“The grocery store doesn’t count.”
“It absolutely counts.”
“You need enrichment.” Robin snorted so suddenly she almost dropped the tape in her hands. “Did you just compare me to a zoo animal?”
Steve pointed at her immediately. “See? This is why you need to socialize.”
“I socialize with you against my will for thirty-five hours a week.”
“And isn’t your life soooo much better because of it?” Robin opened her mouth automatically with a sarcastic response ready to go, but paused.
“…Unfortunately,” she muttered. Steve grinned triumphantly like he’d just won an argument nobody else knew they were having, causing Robin to narrow her eyes immediately.
“You’re scheming.”
“I’m not scheming.”
“You have your ‘I know something you don’t know’ face.”
Steve scoffed. “I do not have a face for that.”
“You absolutely do.” Robin pointed accusingly now. “You get all smug and your hair somehow gets worse.”
“My hair always looks good.”
“Sure.”
Steve leaned against the counter casually, though the effort he was putting into seeming casual made it painfully obvious something was up. “I just think you should come out tonight.”
Robin stared at him for a second. Then her stomach dropped as realization hit her like a truck.
“…Is Y/n gonna be there?” Steve failed spectacularly at hiding his grin, causing Robin’s eyes to widen in horror.
“Of course she is.” The bastard didn’t even try denying it.
“Oh my god,” Robin whispered, horrified, already feeling heat crawl up her neck. Steve immediately started laughing at the look on her face. “Oh my GOD, Steve.”
“What?!” he defended through laughter.
“You’re setting me up!”
“I am not!”
“You absolutely are!”
“I’m encouraging personal growth!”
Robin made an incredulous noise, throwing her hands up. “That is the most manipulative sentence you’ve ever spoken.”
Steve only laughed harder.
“You told her, didn’t you?” Robin hissed suddenly, leaning across the counter with genuine panic flashing across her face. “Oh my god, you told her I’m obsessed with her-”
“I did not say obsessed.” Robin made a strangled noise and covered her face with both hands immediately.
“Steve!”
“She likes you back!” Robin’s hands dropped instantly as the world went completely silent. The TV buzzed faintly in the background. Somewhere outside, a car door slammed shut. Robin just stared at him.
“…What?” Steve blinked. Oops.
Robin looked at him with genuine alarm now, blue eyes wide and unblinking like she’d just watched a car crash happen in front of her. “Steve...”
He winced slightly. “Well.”
“STEVE”
“What?!” he defended immediately. “You guys are both idiots!”
Robin looked like she might actually pass out, “You told her?”
“No! Jesus Christ, Robin.” Steve lowered his voice immediately, glancing toward the empty aisles out of instinct. “I didn’t out you to each other, if that’s what you’re freaking out about.”
Robin relaxed exactly two percent.
“She just…” Steve hesitated for a second, his expression softening. “She likes girls too, and I hinted that the chances of you liking her back weren’t necessarily zero.”
Robin stopped breathing for a second. “Oh.”
“And she likes you.” Robin looked physically incapable of processing that information. Steve literally watched her cycle through twelve emotions in the span of five seconds- confusion, hope, disbelief, panic, excitement, terror- before she landed firmly on denial.
“No,” she said immediately.
Steve sighed. “Robin-”
“No, she doesn’t.”
“She literally does.”
“She’s just flirting for fun, and- and you’re totally fucking with me right now, which is cruel even for you, Steve Harrington-”
“Robin,” Steve interrupted, trying not to laugh, “she practically climbs onto the counter every time you talk.”
Robin’s face burned so red it almost hurt. “She’s just- she’s like that!”
“She is absolutely not like that at all, I promise.” Robin opened her mouth to argue again, then slowly closed it, because deep down, she knew you really weren’t like that with anyone else. Not with Steve’s idiot friends. Not with random guys at parties. Not even with Steve, honestly. Just her.
Robin had noticed it weeks ago, despite trying very hard to convince herself she was imagining things- the lingering eye contact, the way you smiled differently at her, the way you’d lean over the counter just to listen for intently to whatever dumb thing she was saying, the way you always looked directly at Robin when you walked into the store like she was the whole reason you came there in the first place.
Steve softened a little at the conflicted look on her face.
“Look,” he started carefully, “I’m not saying you have to marry her or whatever-”
Robin groaned loudly before he could finish. “Oh my god.”
“But you should come tonight.”
Robin looked down, nervously picking at the peeling corner of a VHS sleeve while her heartbeat thudded violently in her ears. “What if she’s just messing around?”
“She’s not.”
“What if I make it weird?” Steve gave her a long look.
“Robin,” he said gently, “your entire personality is weird.”
“Exactly!”
“But it seems like she likes that!” Robin’s stomach flipped so hard she thought she might actually throw up. Steve smirked a little at the expression on her face before adding, softer this time, “Also, for the record? She’s freaking out just as much as you are.”
That made Robin pause. “…Really?”
“Oh yeah.” Steve laughed quietly to himself, leaning against the counter again. “She made me swear you didn’t hate her like three times last night.”
Robin stared at him in disbelief. “She thought I hated her?”
“Mhm.”
“That’s insane.”
“That’s exactly what I said.” Robin looked down again, chewing the inside of her cheek while her thoughts spiraled violently. You thought she hated you? Meanwhile Robin had spent the last month internally combusting every time you smiled at her.
Steve nudged her shoulder lightly as he passed behind the counter. “C’mon, just come hang out.”
Robin sighed heavily, already knowing she’d lost this argument five minutes ago, “This is going to ruin my life.”
Steve grinned immediately. “So that’s a yes?”
Robin pointed at him warningly. “If this ends horribly, I’m making it your problem forever.”
“Fair.”
“And if you ditch me there-”
“I won’t.”
“And if she actually doesn’t like me-”
“She does.” Robin groaned again, dragging both hands down her face while Steve’s grin only widened.
Robin almost didn’t come. Even after agreeing to it at work, she spent nearly forty minutes standing in front of her mirror debating whether faking her own death would somehow be easier than attending a party where you would definitely be present. Unfortunately, Steve Harrington was persistent to the point of being a public nuisance. By the time he picked her up, Robin was already irritated.
“You’re being weirdly intense about this,” she muttered while climbing into the passenger seat.
Steve looked personally offended. “I’m trying to help you.”
“I didn’t ask for help.”
“You literally had a thirty-minute breakdown because Y/n touched your hand while taking a receipt." Robin groaned loudly and slumped in her seat while Steve grinned like the world’s most annoying man. By the time they got to the party, Robin’s stomach had tied itself into approximately fourteen knots.
The house was already packed- music blasting through blown-out speakers while people crowded through the kitchen and spilled out onto the back patio. Somewhere upstairs, someone was screaming the lyrics to a Madonna song completely off-key. Robin followed Steve inside reluctantly, immediately scanning the room against her will, and there you were.
You stood near the living room couch with Nancy and Jonathan, laughing at something Argyle was saying while holding a red plastic cup between both hands. Robin noticed you before she could stop herself- the tiny shorts, the fitted top, the little jewelry around your neck catching the low light every time you moved. Then you looked up and smiled at her, causing Robin to nearly walk directly into Steve’s back.
“Oh my god,” Steve muttered under his breath without even turning around. “You are so screwed.”
“Shut up.”
You excused yourself from the group almost immediately after spotting them, weaving through people until you stopped directly in front of Robin with a grin that made her forget basic motor function for a second.
“Buckley,” you greeted casually, though your eyes flicked over her quickly enough to make her face warm. “You actually came.”
Robin shoved her hands into the pockets of her jacket immediately to stop herself from visibly panicking. “Yeah, well. Steve threatened me emotionally.”
“I did not,” Steve defended.
“You literally said I needed ‘social enrichment.’”
You let out a cute but genuine laugh- Robin almost smiled just from hearing it.
“That does sound like him,” you admitted.
Steve pointed triumphantly between you both. “See? Vibes already.”
Robin rolled her eyes hard. “Can you not say "vibes" ever again?”
“No promises.”
Nancy appeared beside you then, smiling knowingly at Robin in a way that immediately made her suspicious, “Hi, Robin.”
In a rare moment of coolness, she tilted her head up in a greeting as she smiled casually at Nancy, completely unaware that her relaxed energy was firing something up inside you, “Hey.”
Jonathan lifted his beer slightly in greeting from the couch while Argyle squinted at Robin for a second before going, “Ohhh, you’re the girl from Family Video.”
Robin blinked. “...Yeah?”
“The one she keeps talking about.” Your head whipped around so violently you almost spilled your drink.
“Argyle.” you seethed between clenched teeth
“What?” he asked innocently. Robin’s brain completely stopped functioning. Steve made a choking noise trying not to laugh while Nancy immediately smacked Argyle in the shoulder.
“You cannot just say things like that,” you hissed, horrified.
Argyle looked genuinely confused. “Why not?”
“Because- because she’s gonna pass out!” Robin was, in fact, considering it. But then she looked at you- really looked at you- and noticed you seemed just as embarrassed as she felt. Your face was burning, eyes wide with panic while everyone laughed around you, and weirdly enough, that made Robin relax- just a little.
“Okay,” Robin said slowly, recovering enough to glance at you sideways, “in my defense, you’re also kind of impossible not to talk about.”
Your mouth fell open slightly, shocked at her forwardness. Steve gasped and then immediately made the loudest, most dramatic gagging noise imaginable.
“Oh my god,” he groaned. “You guys are disgusting already.”
After that, things got easier surprisingly fast.
Robin still got nervous every time you looked directly at her for too long, but once the entire group settled into the living room together, the awkwardness slowly started melting away- mostly because Steve and Argyle were incapable of letting silence exist for longer than ten seconds.
At one point Jonathan and Nancy got pulled into an argument over horror movies while Steve passionately defended some terrible action film nobody else liked. Robin sat wedged into the corner of the couch beside you, listening to everyone yell over each other while you leaned closer every time you laughed. And Jesus Christ, you smelled good. Robin noticed that almost immediately and spent the next twenty minutes trying not to think about it.
Then your knee bumped hers- accidentally, probably- except neither of you moved away. Robin kept talking through it anyway, pretending she wasn’t hyperaware of the warmth of your leg pressed against hers. Meanwhile, you nodded along to whatever sarcastic rant she was going on about, chin resting lazily against your hand while you watched her with a soft smile that was making coherent thought increasingly difficult.
“You’re staring again,” Robin said finally, trying to sound casual, while your smile widened immediately. “Sorry. You’re funny.”
Robin looked away so fast it almost hurt her neck, which Steve noticed from across the room and looked seconds away from throwing himself through a window, trying not to laugh.
The drinking became a problem around an hour later. Not a real problem, but just enough of one that suddenly everything felt warmer and louder and significantly less terrifying.
You were sitting cross-legged on the floor now beside the coffee table while Robin leaned against the couch directly above you, both of you halfway through your fourth (or maybe fifth?) drinks while Steve attempted to teach Argyle and Jonathan some stupid hand game, as Nancy watched the entire thing unfold with increasing amusement.
Robin had reached the stage of drunk where she got louder and dramatically more animated with her storytelling. Which, unfortunately for you, was incredibly attractive.
“No, listen,” Robin insisted, grabbing your wrist suddenly while trying not to laugh, “this woman looked me dead in the eyes and asked if we carried ‘The Little Mermaid’ on cassette tape.”
You burst into laughter. “No she didn’t.”
“She DID.”
“What did you even say to that?”
Robin grinned proudly, even more relaxed than when she sat down. “I told her Ariel was unavailable for comment.”
You laughed hard enough to lean forward into Robin’s knees instinctively, and for one dangerous second Robin forgot how breathing worked. Because now you were touching her. All warm and giggly and drunk and pretty.
She looked down at you, absolutely helpless, while you looked back up at the same time, and there it was again- that horrible, terrifying, impossible thing that kept happening between you two whenever everyone else faded into the background. Your laughter softened first; Robin’s smile faded second; neither of you moved, until you lifted your drink to take a sip while maintaining eye contact
Then Steve’s drunk ass suddenly yelled from across the room, “Ohhhhhh, look who's being all friendly now!”
You choked on your drink immediately- Robin whipped a pillow directly at his head without even looking. Nancy started laughing so hard she nearly spilled her beer, while Jonathan looked deeply exhausted already.
Steve leaned in and pointed between you both with a smug grin. “You guys have been eye-fucking each other for like two hours.”
“Oh my god,” you groaned, covering your face.
Robin slumped dramatically backward against the couch cushions. “dude you are so drunk.”
“so're you!” Steve slurred, immediately hiccuping afterwards. But even through the embarrassment, Robin could still feel your shoulder pressed against her leg, and neither of you moved away from it once. That warmth, however, didn't last long, and Robin was still glaring at Steve when you pushed yourself up from the floor with a groan.
“I need another drink if I’m gonna survive this conversation,” you muttered.
“Bring me one?” Nancy asked immediately. You rolled your eyes fondly and waved her off before turning toward the kitchen and disappearing into the crowd. Robin tried very hard not to watch you go, and obviously failed, which Steve "nosiest person alive" Harrington noticed as soon as it happened.
“Oh my god,” he whispered dramatically to Jonathan. “She’s literally watching her leave.”
“I can hear you,” Robin snapped. Nancy laughed into her drink while Robin stood abruptly from the couch before she could think too hard about it.
“I also need a drink,” she announced to nobody. Steve’s grin became genuinely unbearable. “Sure you do.”
Robin reached for another pillow from the couch and threatened to throw it at him. Steve flinched dramatically and giggled drunkenly as his best friend flipped him off as she headed toward the kitchen.
The kitchen was much hotter than the living room- crowded shoulder-to-shoulder with people digging through coolers and yelling over the music. Robin spotted you immediately near the counter, pouring something suspiciously strong into a red cup while some guy tried unsuccessfully to flirt with you.
Robin watched you stare at him blankly for approximately three seconds before going, “Did you just compare yourself to Johnny Depp?”
The guy puffed up slightly. “People say I look like him.”
“Have you never been lied to before?” Robin snorted out loud before she could stop herself. You turned immediately (how you were even able to hear her in this mess was beyond her) face brightening the second you saw her standing there.
The guy looked between you both awkwardly before deciding he suddenly had somewhere else to be, and Robin stepped beside you as he disappeared into the crowd. “That was mean.”
You handed her a drink casually. “That was mercy.”
Robin hissed through her teeth, then laughed, her shoulder brushing yours lightly as she accepted the cup. “Yikes, poor guy.”
“He opened with ‘hey beautiful.’ He deserved it.”
“You hate when guys call you beautiful?”
You looked over at her knowingly. “Guys? Yes.”
Robin nearly inhaled her drink wrong, which caused you to grin instantly. “Oh my god, are you blushing, Buckley?”
“I am absolutely not.”
“You totally are.”
“It’s- it's hot in here!” You raised your brows at her in suspicion before nodding sarcastically with a teasing quirk of your lips. Robin opened her mouth with another argument ready, but you laughed softly and grabbed her wrist suddenly.
“C’mon.”
Robin blinked. “What?”
“It’s too crowded in here.” You were already tugging her gently through the kitchen before she could process the fact that your hand was still around her wrist. She followed automatically, past the hallway... and then past the bathroom where two people were loudly arguing... and then past a couple making out against the wall...
Until finally you pushed open a side door leading out onto the back patio, cold air hitting instantly. The muffled bass from inside still vibrated faintly through the walls, but out there, everything felt quieter somehow. Dim porch lights cast soft yellow shadows across the yard while distant voices echoed from somewhere near the fence.
Robin looked at you, taking you in, to see that you actually looked nervous now, which somehow made Robin even more nervous.
“You okay?” she asked softly. You nodded too quickly. “Yeah.”
You opened your mouth to continue, but buffered for a second, seeming to collect the confidence to speak
“I just wanted to talk to you without Steve screaming at us for five seconds.” Robin laughed quietly, looking down at her drink for a second before glancing back up. “Yeah. That’s fair.”
Another pause settled between you- softer this time. Not awkward, but charged with tension. Robin leaned back lightly against the porch railing while you stood close enough that your shoes nearly touched.
“You know,” you started carefully, eyes fixed on your cup, “I really thought you hated me at first.”
Robin looked genuinely startled. “What?”
“At Scoops.” You shrugged slightly. “You were always glaring at me.”
“Oh my god.” Robin groaned immediately. “I wasn’t glaring at you.”
“You totally were.”
“I was panicking.” Your eyebrows lifted slowly.
Robin laughed once, embarrassed now. “Steve used to make fun of me because every time you walked in I’d forget how to function.”
Your smile softened instantly, then you forced the teasing quirk back in for a moment. “There's no way you wanted me that bad so early on...”
Robin scoffed and rolled her eyes, "I might've had some predetermined, unsupported opinions on you, but I've always had eyes, and you've always been attractive."
Her confidence makes you scoff this time- in utter shock and disbelief at her blatant admittance to finding you attractive, "wait- so even when you were acting like you couldn't care less if i lived or died-"
"That never happened-"
"It totally did! You've ignored me soooomany times inschool" your words have really started to slur together at this point, face hot from the alcohol and the flirting, pitch raising ever so slightly to take on a more airy key.
Robin snorted softly. “Okay, first of all, I ignore everyone in school.”
“You wouldn't ignore Chrissy!”
“cuz she's friends with Vicky-”
Your laugh blended with your whining as you leaned a little closer without realizing it. “You were sooo mean to me., Robin”
She scoffs out a laugh of disbelief, a nervous but entertained smile staining her lips, “I was nervous!”
“You rolled your eyes at me once when I said hi to you in the hallway.”
Robin pointed immediately. “That was because Tommy was with you.”
You pulled back into yourself, disgusted, and blinked slowly “…What does Tommy have to do with anything?”
Robin looked away for exactly half a second too long, then muttered, “I thought you were dating him.”
Your mouth fell open instantly, “TOMMY??”
“In my defense,” Robin said quickly, already laughing at herself, “he followed you around constantly.”
“Because he was obsessed with Steve!”
“I know that now!” You doubled over laughing, nearly spilling your drink all over yourself while Robin watched helplessly, smiling so hard her cheeks hurt.
“Oh my god,” you wheezed. “You thought I had bad taste.”
“I was being judgmental!”
“Well duh.”
“I said unsupported opinions!” You laughed harder at that, head tipping forward until your forehead brushed briefly against Robin’s shoulder. The contact made both of you go still, both of your smiles fading, your faces heating up more. You stayed there for one dangerous second too long, warm against her, close enough now that Robin could feel your breath against her neck every time you laughed quietly.
When you finally looked back up, your faces were suddenly much closer than either of you remembered getting. Robin’s eyes flicked down to your lips instinctively before snapping back up again. You noticed, of course, your eyes softening immediately.
“You’re so pretty, Robin...” you mumble quietly, pulling the tiniest startled noise from her.
“You’re really drunk,” she whispered back, though she sounded breathless now.
“Mhm,” you hummed, shrugging as your eyes fluttered shut for a moment. “Still true, though.”
Robin laughed once under her breath, nervous and disbelieving and completely gone for you already. “You have no idea what you're doing to me.”
Your stomach flipped violently at that,
“Yeah?” you asked softly, gazing up at her. Robin gulped, nodding before she could stop herself. The porch suddenly felt too small, too warm despite the cold air. Your hand slid against the railing beside hers slowly- enough for your fingers to brush- Robin looked down at it, then back at you.
Apparently, Robin was drunk too, because the liquid courage was all it took for her to cup your cheek and lean in, pressing her lips to yours. It was quick at first- almost cautious, like she was still waiting for you to change your mind- but the second you kissed her back, Robin melted completely.
Your hand settled on her waist at the hem of her sweater as you leaned into her, smiling against her mouth immediately when Robin made a soft, overwhelmed sound into the kiss.
“See?” you murmured against her lips, dizzy and teasing. She could practically taste your teasing grin “You wanted me so bad.”
Robin laughed helplessly into another kiss, as you pulled her back in, gliding your hands up her waist to caress her collarbones and neck, sending a shiver down her spine. You dragged her backward a few steps, so that your back was against the side of the house.
The two of you continued to kiss, the tension only growing tighter as time passed. You bit her bottom lip, smirking as you felt her gasp and part her lips, pleased at how she was reacting exactly as you intended her to. Your tongue slipped into Robin's mouth, intertwining with hers, as both your breathing picked up.
Robin's hands gripped your hips as you slipped yours into her hair, tugging slightly. She groaned softly into your mouth, taking the initiative to push one of her legs between yours. The pressure against your core, along with the action itself, elicited a sharp gasp from you, followed by a high-pitched whine.
You decided to test the waters a bit by rolling your hips slowly against her thigh, pulling a deep sound from Robin as she pushed her leg up and pressed you down at the same time. The noise you let out only spurred her on, as Robin tugged on your belt loops, pulling you harder against her thigh and reinforcing the rhythm of your grinding. You moaned into her mouth, arms fully wrapping around her neck to pull her impossibly close.
You're not sure how long it went on like this, but at some point, you heard the side screen door slam open, scaring the shit out of you and Robin, causing you to jump apart. A handful of fellow drunk party-goers wandered out, slurring as they excitedly greeted you and kept walking.
After that night, you continued to flirt, amping it up to be even worse than before, honestly. And now that Robin understood it was, in fact, actual flirting, it somehow stressed her out more. In her mind, you wanting her and making it so obvious meant she had a lot of work to do to keep up, even though you've been wanting every version of you you've already come to know- the mean and avoidant, the floundering and awkward, and especially the occasional relaxed and charismatic.
If someone asked Robin if she was avoiding you, she'd say something along the lines of, "what?? of course not- why would i be avoiding her??" but if someone asked you what your thoughts were, it'd be a different story.
Steve was honestly about to lock the two of you in the storage closet and tell you to sort it out because he was getting sick of your whining and complaining. But he was mostly annoyed at your refusal to make a move, and Robin's internal system shutting down and not powering back on until you left.
The next time you all went out was a lot less fun. Not because of any sort of odd event, or because the music was worse, not even because the people sucked- But because Robin wasn't there, and apparently that was enough to ruin your entire night. Nancy figured this out approximately twenty minutes after arriving, and surprisingly, Steve figured it out immediately.
"Can you stop glancing longingly at the door, you know she's not coming."
You tore your eyes away from the entryway. "I am not glancing longingly, what the fuck"
No one looked remotely convinced. The worst part was that he wasn't wrong. Robin wasn't usually much of a party person anyway, but after what had happened the last time- the lingering touches, the stolen kiss on the back porch, the fact that you'd spent nearly three hours sitting shoulder-to-shoulder afterward- it felt weird not seeing her.
You'd expected her to come just to hang out with you, and maybe that was your mistake. Maybe you'd gotten a little spoiled...
The first drink made you miss her. The second drink made you dramatic about missing her. By the third, you were becoming a genuine problem.
"I just don't get it." Steve groaned into his beer.
"The beginning of the speech." Nancy laughed into her cup. You ignored both of them and carried on
"I mean, we had fun!"
"We know," Steve said.
"We kissed."
"We know."
"You don't know everything."
"I know enough." You frowned at him.
"That's so invasive."
Steve physically dropped his head onto the table with a drawn-out groan, "You've been talking about her for an hour."
The night only deteriorated from there. Every conversation somehow circled back to Robin; every topic reminded you of her, every joke made you wish she were there to hear it. And because alcohol had completely removed your ability to feel embarrassment, you weren't keeping any of those thoughts to yourself. By the time you started loudly wondering whether Robin was at home thinking about you, Steve looked ready to throw himself through a wall.
"Oh my god."
"What?"
"You're fucking obsessed with her." You gasped, and Nancy laughed so hard she nearly spilled her drink.
"I'm not obsessed."
"You called her beautiful six times."
"She is beautiful."
"You don't even know you're doing it anymore." You opened your mouth. Paused. Then pointed at him, only to say nothing. Steve stood up immediately after that
"Okay. That's enough."
"What?"
"You are cut off." You stared at him, incredulously, then at Nancy, who just shrugged. "I agree with him."
"This is a dictatorship."
"No," Steve said, grabbing your shoulders. "This is intervention."
The next thing you knew, he was steering you through his house while you complained the entire way.
"You guys are being mean to me."
"We're saving Robin from hearing whatever's about to come out of your mouth next."
"I have lots of good things to say about Robin."
"I KNOW."
By the time Steve deposited you onto his bed upstairs, you were pouting hard enough to rival a toddler. "There."
He pointed at you. "Drink water."
"I don't want water."
"Too bad."
"I want Robin to come over." Steve groaned so loudly it echoed down the hallway.
"Goodnight." Then he left, storming back to the rest of the group. That traitor...
For a while, you laid sprawled across his comforter staring at the ceiling. Music vibrated faintly through the floorboards beneath you, voices drifted up from downstairs.
You rolled over dramatically and stared at Steve's nightstand, your eyes landing on the phone sitting on top of it- a terrible idea occurred to you instantly.
Within minutes, you were dialing Robin's number from memory. The line rang- once... twice... three times-
"Hello?" Your entire face lit up as you breathed out, "Robin!"
There was a pause, "...Why are you calling me from Steve's house?"
You smiled stupidly at the sound of her voice, "cuz I miss you."
The silence on the other end was long. Robin was sitting cross-legged by herself on her bedroom floor when she'd answered, now she was very glad nobody else was around because her face had gone completely red.
"You... are drunk."
"Maybe."
"You are."
You kicked your feet against Steve's mattress and twist the cord around your finger, "You should've come."
Robin closed her eyes. There was something about drunk you that was particularly dangerous- not because you got reckless, but because you got more honest. Painfully honest.
"I had plans."
"You should've canceled them."
"That's not how plans work."
"It is when I want you somewhere."
Robin's breath got caught in her throat before she sighed out, pressing her face into one hand. "Oh my god."
You sighed dramatically. "I've been having a terrible time."
"You've been at a party..."
"Without you." The way you said it made something warm twist inside her chest, and she had to try very hard not to smile.
"You're ridiculous."
"Steve misses you too." she huffed out laugh, "No he doesn't."
"Okay, maybe that one was a lie." Robin chuckled despite herself, the sound making you smile immediately.
"You need to go to sleep."
"I need you to come here."
"Sorry, but I'm gonna have to say no to that one."
"Please?"
"No." You groaned loudly. Robin could practically picture you rolling around dramatically on Steve's bed.
"Robiiiiiiiin" she hated that she was even telling you no- she felt stupid for telling you no! Especially when she had you whining her name over the phone, begging her to show up and rescue you from your lonesome.
But maybe that's why she was doing it...
Not because Robin knew herself and knew she'd fold the second she saw you, and give you whatever you wanted- even though that much was still true. She was basking in the pride it was bringing her to listen to you say her name over and over again, waiting for her to give in and let you have your way, because you both knew she'd eventually give in to you.
"Sorry, pretty girl, not gonna happen." Robin wasn't completely unaware of the damage she was doing- she had some idea that her words alone, delivered softly by her raspy voice, had some effect on you.
What she didn't know was how you held your breath for a moment, squeezing the pillow you were resting on and pressing your thighs together, before you relaxed.
"Robin, please."
"No."
"Robin!" She laughed. "God, you sound five years old."
"I miss you." The words came softer this time, less dramatic and whiny, more genuine and breathy. Robin's chest tightened, and you were quiet for a second.
"Will you come get me?"
Robin blinked. "What?"
"Come get me."
"You are not serious."
"I am- extremely serious."
"I can't..."
"Why?"
"Because you are drunk."
"Exactly."
"That's not helping your argument." You huffed
"Steve won't take me home." Robin snorted immediately
"Steve Harrington would absolutely take you home." You considered that. "...Okay, maybe."
"He definitely would."
"But then he'd have to leave his own party."
"He would still do it."
"Yeah..." you paused, then continued, much quieter "But I want it to be you."
Robin's stomach flipped, hard. The music downstairs was distant now, and the room around her felt strangely warm. She leaned back against her bed frame and stared at the wall for a long moment. On the other end of the line, you lay still, eyes fluttering as you peacefully waited for her next response.
"Robin?"
"Hm?"
"I really like you." The confession was so simple, so earnest. Robin squeezed her eyes shut, a smile pulling at her mouth despite how hard she was biting her bottom lip.
"You are going to be so embarrassed by this tomorrow."
"Nope."
"You will."
"I won't."
"You definitely will."
You hummed thoughtfully, then followed with complete certainty, "Then I can be embarrassed in your bed."
Robin barked out a laugh, sighing as it died down, letting the comfortable silence hang for a moment more, "okay..."
The line went dead, and somewhere upstairs in Steve Harrington's house, you smiled so hard your cheeks hurt at the sound, knowing you won and that she'd be on her way in a matter of minutes.
She arrived at the Harrington house about 15 minutes later, bracing herself to deal with the crowd as well as whatever her friends were inevitably going to say to her once they realized why she was there.
She walked right past Nancy and Jonathon, who were sitting on the couch, and somehow managed to bypass Steve, who was yapping some girl's ear off.
When Robin finally makes her way upstairs, she passes the other closed doors that surely hide plenty of couples up to no good. She stood outside Steve's bedroom door, her hand shaking as it hovered over the doorknob. Do I knock? She might already be passed out by now...
Robin took a deep breath and turned the knob, trying to push the door open as quietly as possible, just in case. And as she regained her breath, she lost it just as quickly, taking in the sight before her.
There you lay, in Steve Harrington's bed, on your stomach, one arm folded under your head as you rest your cheek on it, pouting, as the other hangs off the bed. Your little dress had risen up to just barely cover your ass- Robin's pretty sure she can see your dark red lace panties, but she tries not to stare for too long.
Not like you gave her much time to stare anyway, cuz as soon as you saw her, you perked up with a gasp. You practically rolled off the bed before bounding over to her and wrapping your arms around her neck, tucking your face, and letting out a soft, satisfied moan. Robin placed her hands on your hips, securing you and making sure you wouldn't fall over. She subconsciously rubbed your hip as you nuzzled your face in her neck.
"Take me home, Robbie..." you mumbled against her skin. Robin couldn't help but huff out a laugh. If anyone else had called her that, or whined the way you did, it would have annoyed her beyond explanation and made her cringe out of her skin... but it's you.
Robin's rubbing on your hips became more intentional on her end, and thus more apparent to you, causing you to whine against her once more. Robin had no plans of doing anything with you tonight, other than going to sleep, but teasing you and getting your hopes up a little wouldn't hurt...
"My house or yours, baby?" She softly questioned, letting her head lean, cheek resting against the top of your hair. You sighed into her neck and squeezed your arms a little tighter, pulling yourself closer against her. It was too easy to tease you when you were like this- Robin wished you were this clingy all the time. Or maybe she wished she were this confident and relaxed all the time.
"Don't care, jus' wanna go with you..." you murmured and finished off your request with an open-mouthed kiss to her neck, sending a shiver down her spine. Robin squeezed her eyes shut for a second.
Jesus Christ.
You were going to be the death of her. You were just drunk enough to forget about self-consciousness, clinging to her like she was the only solid thing in the room.
"Yeah, okay," she said softly. "Let's get you out of here."
You made a pleased sound and somehow managed to cling even tighter. The sight would've been embarrassing and borderline heart-stopping under normal circumstances. But for some reason, Robin found it strangely endearing tonight.
She carefully untangled herself enough (not without you whining and complaining, of course) to grab your purse from Steve's desk before guiding you toward the door. You followed without complaint, staying close enough that your shoulder kept bumping hers.
"Oh no," Robin muttered.
You looked up.
"What?"
"Our friends." Downstairs, Steve spotted the two of you almost immediately, his face lighting up with the kind of expression Robin absolutely hated.
"There she is!" Robin bit back a groan, but continued down the staircase with you in tow.
Steve pointed dramatically. "I knew you'd show up eventually."
"Oh, who cares..." You leaned heavily against Robin's side and smiled sleepily.
"Told you she'd come get me." Steve nearly fell over laughing. Robin seriously considered turning around and dragging you home without another word, leaving Steve there to laugh by himself.
Instead, she rolled her eyes, bid your drunken friend a goodnight, and guided you toward the front door while your friends continued yelling things neither of you acknowledged.
The cold night air felt good after the crowded house, causing you to sigh contentedly the second you reached her car. Robin opened the passenger door for you, but you paused to look at her before getting in.
"Hm?" Robin asked, and you looked at her for a moment, eyes heavy with exhaustion.
"Thanks for coming." The simple sincerity of it caught her completely off guard, her expression softening immediately.
"Of course I came." You smiled at that. The kind of real smile that always seemed to make Robin's chest feel too tight. Then you climbed into the car, already half-asleep, before she could even put the car in drive. She shook her head fondly as she took off, thinking about how embarrassing tomorrow morning would be for both of you.
When you arrived at her place, Robin shook you slightly to wake you. She helped you inside, laid out a pair of her clothes for you to change into, and brought you water.
The night ended with Robin trying not to freak out as you refused to let her sleep anywhere else but beside you, clinging to her like she was a life-size teddy bear.
Morning arrived slowly. The first thing you became aware of was sunlight- thin strips of gold spilled through the curtains, warming the room in uneven patches and making it impossible to keep sleeping. Your head felt heavy, your mouth dry, and every thought seemed to arrive several seconds later than it normally would.
For a long moment, you just lay there staring at the ceiling. The room felt unfamiliar as you still tried to adjust and keep your eyes open for more than a second
Your gaze landed on the bookshelf against the far wall, then the stack of cassette tapes, then the movie posters- the cluttered desk, sage walls, and record player filling in the blanks for you.
You groaned softly and dropped an arm over your face. Somewhere nearby, you heard a quiet laugh, temporarily frozen in place, before slowly turning your head.
Robin was sitting on the floor beside the bed with a mug balanced between both hands. She looked like she'd been awake for a while already, her hair slightly messy from sleep and an oversized sweater hanging off one shoulder, the morning light catching the freckles across her face.
"You look terrified," she observed as you immediately buried your face back into the pillow, drawing another warm laugh from her.
As you tried not to think too much about how comforting the sound was, your mind shifted back to the night before, your embarrassment arriving all at once.
You perked up, snapping your panicked gaze back to Robin, "Oh no."
"Oh yes." You groaned louder and flopped back down against her pillow as Robin looked entirely too pleased with herself.
The room settled into a comfortable quiet for a few moments after that. Outside, birds chirped somewhere beyond the window. A car passed on the street. The world had already started moving while the two of you remained tucked away from it for a little while longer.
Eventually, you sat up, pulling the blanket around yourself as you blinked against the sunlight and subconsciously pouted. Robin watched you over the rim of her mug; you watched her back, and neither of you seemed particularly interested in looking away.
The previous weeks felt strange in retrospect- so much nervousness, so much second-guessing, so much time spent wondering what the other person was thinking. Now, sitting together in the quiet morning light, everything felt simpler, despite the embarrassment of last night's desperation.
The realization that being with Robin felt good and simple settled warmly somewhere in your chest, and she clocked it in your expression immediately.
"What?" You shook your head. "Nothing."
The smile that appeared on her face suggested she didn't believe you for a second, but she didn't push. Instead, she leaned back against the side of the bed and stared out the window for a moment.
The sunlight painted soft gold across the room, and you found yourself smiling without meaning to as you noticed the way things glowed a little differently in the light. The threads of her sweater were more shimmery than matte, her hands seemed a little more delicate and fair, her freckles were enchanting regardless of the lighting.
Your enamored gaze never wavered, and for the first time all morning, Robin looked away first, which, of course, made your smile widen.
Maybe the day would bring teasing from Steve, questions from Nancy, an absolutely humiliating recollection of everything you'd said while drunk- but for now, none of that mattered.
For now, it was just the two of you sharing a quiet morning and trying not to smile too hard whenever the other wasn't looking.
Eventually, reality caught up with you, specifically, the reality that you felt gross. Your hair was a mess, your makeup had mostly disappeared, and your mouth tasted vaguely like every bad decision you'd made the night before.
With a groan, you pushed the blankets aside and climbed out of bed, heading toward her door like you'd been here a million times. "I need to brush my teeth."
Robin laughed. "Yeah. You do."
You gasped and whipped back around to face her, "That was mean!"
She chuckled shyly, taking a sip from her mug with a shrug, "It was honest."
You huffed dramatically and drowsily stormed off as Robin's eyes followed, staying trained on the doorway even after you were out of her sight. Once she heard the bathroom door click shut, she immediately dropped her head back against the mattress. Because now that you weren't there distracting her, she had time to think, which was unfortunate.
The previous night kept replaying in fragments.
Your phone call. The way you'd sounded when she'd answered. The sight of you practically launching yourself across Steve's room when she'd arrived. The fact that you'd chosen her- not Steve or Nancy, who were already there and would've been more than willing to get you home safe- Her.
Robin rubbed both hands over her face. God. She was in trouble...
Several minutes later, the bathroom door opened again, causing Robin to look up automatically and forget her train of thought.
You still looked tired and a little hungover, but you seemed to have washed your face and fixed your hair as much as possible. Even when you were supposed to look a mess, you still looked unfairly pretty.
"I'm hoping that unopened toothbrush on the counter was for me and that I didn't accidentally just add something to your grocery list..." you leaned against her doorframe, radiating comfortable charm that you seemed to have regained after washing off some of last night's embarrassment.
"Yeah... yeah, of course it was for you..." Robin was a little breathless as she took in the sight of you, aware that you likely just used her face wash are still dressed in her clothes
The room was quiet except for the distant sound of someone mowing a lawn somewhere outside, as sunlight spilled across the floor between you. Robin pushed off the floor and moved to sit cross-legged on the bed, while you still stood a few feet away. And suddenly all the teasing and awkwardness from earlier seemed to disappear.
A small, soft smile tugged at the corner of Robin's mouth first, causing your chest to squeeze. Without really thinking about it, you crossed the room, and Robin's eyes followed your every movement. When you stopped beside the bed, she tipped her head back slightly to look up at you.
"Good morning," Robin said quietly.
You let out an amused huff, lip quirking up more, "We've literally been awake for an hour."
"I know." Neither of you moved, not seeming particularly interested in creating any distance either. The morning sunlight painted gold across Robin's hair and freckles, captivating you beyond explanation
Across her lips was a soft smile she was trying (and failing) to hide, mirrored by your own before you could even think to stop it.
Then, almost naturally, like it was the simplest thing in the world, you leaned down, and Robin met you halfway, as your lips connected in the softest greeting. It was a brief, gentle kiss- nothing fueled by lust or alcohol or adrenaline- just pure and sweet.
It was a quiet confirmation of everything that had already been building between you. And a much-needed one, at that
When you pulled apart, Robin was still smiling, as were you, and for a moment, the world stood still as neither of you said anything.
Eventually, Robin let out a quiet laugh and shook her head, flopping back onto her bed and staring at the ceiling dreamily, like she couldn't quite believe this was real. You smiled back just as helplessly, glancing softly down at her, before allowing yourself to lie down and curl into her.
For the first time in what felt like forever, neither of you had to wonder.
In which crazy gf!reader argues with Boyfriend!Sukuna on a bridge in broad daylight
“It was a fucking milkshake!” he roars.
“It was cheating!” you shriek. People look and point. You ignore them. “You paid for a girl’s milkshake! That means you want her milkshake! I see your infidelity. Real eyes realise real lies, asshole!”
Sukuna groans, face in hands. This day was going from bad to worse — waking up late because you turned his alarms off, getting a ticket when you leaned over to beep the horn at a police car, almost getting into a fist fight after you shoved him into a random man, and now?
Now, he’s stuck on a bridge because his vengeful girlfriend’s pissed he treated a classmate to a milkshake. Apparently, milkshakes are equivalent to head in your books. Suffice to say, he’s ready for the day to end.
And it’s not even 12pm yet.
“Jesus, you drive me fucking insane,” Sukuna grits out. His foot taps relentlessly against the cement, muscles in his face ticking, jaw flexing. “You’ve got a real skill for ruining my goddamn life, I swear to god, woman.”
“Oh? Well, if your life sucks so much, then make a new one without me!” you screech, arms flailing wildly. “In fact, lemme help you out by just, I don’t know, jumping off this goddamn bridge!”
“Yeah, please fucking do! I’ll join you!”
People passing by whisper: “Oh my god, they’re causing a scene,” “should we step in?”, and “are they actually going to jump?” Or some variations of those. Concerned, an old lady steps forward and offers, “My dear, if you need help, we’re here for you.”
You whirl around, throwing the death glare you had at them instead of your boyfriend. That isn’t enough for them to take the hint, it would seem. Taking a deep breath, you give Sukuna only a second to brace himself before you proceed to start…barking. Like a chihuaha. Yipping is probably more accurate. You bark and bark and bark until even more people stop to look. They flinch back, aghast. The old lady splutters, “What on Earth is wrong with you?”
“Fuck you, you old bat,” Sukuna snaps, angry for a new reason. “Never heard a woman bark before? Grow the fuck up and get the hell away from us — our foreplay’s none of your goddamn business.”
Blanching, they stumble back. Then, they march away from the train wreck of a couple making a scene on the bridge flustered and embarrassed. You watch them leave. “Ugh, people these days,” you scoff. “No manners.”
Sukuna grunts in agreement. “Weirdos.” He glances down at you. “Where were we?”
You hum in thought, then beam. “I was gonna jump off the bridge.”
“Oh, yeah.” Shaking tension back into his body, he moulds his face back into an angry scowl. “You can’t keep threatening to jump every time you don’t get your way!”
“Says who?” you yell.
Across the bridge, two policemen sigh and shake their heads at the people silently questioning if they’re going to do something. All they say is, “They’re here every week.”
Based off a couple I saw actually arguing on a bridge a couple days ago. Hope they’re doing well
thinking about toji calling you mommy, but not in a submissive way. in fact, it’s almost mocking when it slips from his lips. he’s on top, he’s got you mewling beneath him, thighs pressed to your chest while he fucks you into the mattress so hard you see stars, and he just smirks down at you mid thrust and purrs “feels good, huh mommy?”
Toji Zen'in, who doesn't get down on one knee or has a ring hidden in his pocket waiting for the perfect moment.
Instead, he's lying on your bed with you, the sheets still tangled around your legs, his calloused fingers tracing lazy patterns on your hip- gentler now than the bruising grip they'd held just moments ago.
Toji Zen'in, who's never planned a damn thing in his life, living by pure instinct and impulse. Whose love language is leaving bruised fingerprints on your skin and possessive bite marks. The same man who makes decisions in the spaces between heartbeats.
When he pulls you back against his chest you feel his chin rest atop your head. His breathing deep and even.
“Marry me.”
Toji Zen'in, whose “marry me” isn’t a question at all- just say two quiet, unguarded words slipping from his lips, like a confession he’s carried for far too long. The words falling so softly you almost miss them.
You turn in his embrace so that you can face him, the sheet sliding off your shoulder, and what you see makes your breath catch. He isn't smiling when your eyes meet- his expression stripped bare of its usual sharp edges and smirk.
Toji Zen'in, whose eyes tell stories of a man who's never had anything permanent, never wanted anything to last.
Until you.
Who traces your cheek with calloused fingers like you're something precious, something that could slip away if he doesn't hold on tight enough.
Toji Zen'in doesn't smile nor whoops in triumph or pull you into a passionate kiss. He simply pulls you closer to him after you whisper "yes," tucking you under his chin where you've always fit perfectly.
Whose heartbeat is steady against your cheek- the rhythm of home, of belonging, of a man who has finally found his harbor after a lifetime at sea. No grand gestures needed, no flowery declarations.
This is all Toji Zen'in needed- his arms around you, his breath in your hair, and the absolute certainty that he has finally found something worth keeping... Worth staying with forever.
coming home drunk to the apartment you share with roomate!megumi ᝰ.ᐟ fem!reader, megumi is a grouch per usual, lowkey cares about you but won’t admit it, characters are in college
a hiccup rumbles from your chest as you stumble your way to the front door, drunkenly giggling at yourself when you realize just how long its taken you to make it down the hallway without tripping over your own two feet.
the fuzzy pink puffball you have on your keychain keeps getting in the way as you shuffle your keys to try and find the right one, and you quietly groan in annoyance because all you want to do is get inside and all of a sudden you really have to pee. your vision is slightly foggy, and though your acrylic nails aren’t that long they are definitely not helping, considering your motor skills have already dwindled due to the shots in your system.
“gym, no… pool, no… car, mom’s house, mailbox— oh for fuck’s sake-“ you sigh, grabbing onto everything but what you need. “oh, yes! finally,” your eyes flutter in relief when you finally get your hands on your house key, your purse slipping from your shoulder down to the crook of your forearm as you angle yourself to stick it in the doorknob.
and just as you’re about to turn the key, it turns for you, and with a tilt of your head you watch as the door swishes open to reveal none other than your roommate, megumi fushiguro, in the doorway.
now normally in the off campus student apartments partnered with your university, roommate matches were strictly curated on a same-sex basis. however, since ‘megumi’ is traditionally a female name there was a slight mix up with the leasing office and by the time they’d been made aware of their mistake it was too late to do anything about it as all available leases had been signed.
neither of you were necessarily thrilled about it at first, in fact, you found out from housing management that both of you had come on different days to complain and see if another arrangement could be made because just a few days afterwards an email addressing the both of you was sent out, essentially saying ‘no, good luck with that though!’.
but you’d since become accustomed to the little mishap. it came as a pleasant surprise to you that megumi wasn’t terrible company to keep around, and he was actually kind of funny when he wasn’t busy hating the world. he kept his music low enough to not bother you, he didn’t eat your groceries, he never left the toilet seat up, and he even took on the responsibility of taking out the trash because he knows you hate touching icky things.
his ink colored hair is messier than usual as he stands before you and you don’t think you’ve ever seen him with bedhead this intense. he looks like he’s been shocked.
“jesus, it’s almost 2am in the morning,” sharp eyes peer down at the slight sway of your smaller frame. “where have you been?” his voice is rough and it sounds like he’s reprimanding you, but you’ve come to find out that’s just how megumi talks. he’s actually worried about you and that’s clear in the way his eyes flood with genuine concern.
but you don’t notice, because he’s shirtless as he stands in front of you with a hand on his hip like a disgruntled father, and that only further directs you to the basketball shorts that hang low on his waist. your eyes float down his etched torso and flutter a little when they reach the gentle brush of his raven happy trail, finally stopping at his prominent v-line before he’s kissing his teeth and tugging you inside because all you can do is stand there and look dumb when you’re supposed to be answering his question. and although you look cute while doing it, he’d never actually tell you that.
with a quiet yelp you shuffle your way in and he locks the door behind you, turning around to face you with a less than pleased look.
“how did you get home?” he interrupts you before you can answer. “did someone drive you? you’re drunk.”
you bring your hand to and away from your head in a ‘duh’ motion.
“nooo shit sherlock, couldn’t tell,” you snicker, because right about now everything is absolutely hilarious, even down to the slight slur of your words. you bend over and nearly fall forwards with a ‘whoops!’ while you slip the heels off your feet and his hands are already out just in case he needs to catch you. like a reflex. he watches you bring your wobbly body back up and brush the hair from your face, the whole act taking a lot more effort due to your tipsy state. hell you’re nearly out of breath when you finally answer him.
“my friends wanted to stay, i didn’t, so I took an uber.” you shrug, suddenly sticking the tip of your tongue out and plucking one of those small white fibers that float in the air from it.
his eyes almost blow from his skull.
“you took an uber? alone? in that little ass thing?” he huffs out in exasperation and uses a hand to gesture down at the tiny, tight black fabric you have the nerve to call a dress that stops just above your upper thighs.
you look down like you don’t know what you’re wearing and he frustratedly ruffles through his hair because you’re even more clueless than usual.
“why didn’t you call me? I would’ve came to get you!”
“stop yelling at me!” you whine. your hand goes to cradle your pounding head and your bottom lip pokes out into a pout. “i didn’t wanna wake you up…”
“i’m not-“ his agitation falters at the look you give him and he exhales, quickly nodding his head because he knows better to upset a girl when she’s drunk. you seriously sound like you’re about to cry and the last thing he wants to deal with is a show of tear-filled dramatics.
“okay, okay. i’m sorry.” megumi reaches forward and takes your bag and keys from your hands to set them on the kitchen counter across from you. “just… call me next time. they’re a bunch of weirdos out here and I don’t want you getting into any trouble. i won’t be mad if you wake me up, i do it for my sister all the time.”
megumi is rarely helpful let alone worried about you, at least to your knowledge, so it makes your chest heat up with what you really hope is happiness and not bile from how invested he seems in your well being. little do you know, he was tracking your location and that’s how he knew you were at the door in the first place.
chin lifting slightly, your lips slowly pull into an undeniable smirk, eyes narrowing at him and your expression is one he knows all too well because yuji gives him the same one everytime he talks about you. sighing, he dips his head to the side, shaking it as your smile only grows wider.
“don’t—“
“you care about meee!” you drawl, arms extending outwards as you ungracefully make your way towards him.
“no, not really.” his response is immediate, a brow raising as you approach him. he wears a small snarl now, hand held out apprehensively. “uh uh, do not-“
your arms wrap around his torso despite his resistance and his body tenses when you give him a tight squeeze, attempting to swing the both of you side to side. It doesn’t work, obviously, because he’s much larger than you and basically unmovable.
“you’re sweet when you’re worried, ‘gumi.” you hum and ignore him when he tells you not to call him that, and he’s quick to deflect because his face is suddenly getting hot and it’s annoying him. and maybe, if you weren’t off your ass, you would’ve noticed the gentle warmth of his hand resting over the small of your back. to steady you, of course.
“let go. you reek of desperate party goers and tequila. i hate tequila.” he grumbles, dramatically covering his nose to support his deflection. “i also think a shower wouldn’t hurt.”
you abruptly shove him away with a scoff and he can’t help but laugh at the look on your face, at the way your jaw drops in astonishment and your eye twitches. you can’t even sputter out a response, so you spin on your toes to stalk off instead which was a very bad idea seeing as you’re already dizzy, but you quickly regain your balance and continue on.
“you sure you can find your way there?” he teases, crossing his arms.
“oh, wouldn’t you just love to help me. I can feel you looking at my ass you perv!” you shout from down the hall, middle finger raised behind you.
he inhales sharply, eyes snapping up from where he didn’t even realize they’d fallen. he pulls the inside of his cheek between his teeth and curtly nods to himself.
“yup, i’m going to bed.”
once megumi hears the shower shut off after about twenty minutes, the normal for you, he deems it safe to close his eyes and sleep— the fear of you passed out because you’d somehow slipped and hit your head on the tub long gone from his mind.
he’s laying on his side with an arm folded under his head and asleep when you carefully crack his door open, a big t-shirt you used to love (that now has a few unfortunate bleach stains on it) and a pair of cotton sleep shorts on your body as you slip through the opening. you move at a snail’s pace when you go to shut it, but then the door creaks, and with an eye pinched closed your face screws into a wince, shoulders tensing and you immediately freeze in your tracks.
dreadfully, you peak over at the lump in the dark that‘s megumi’s figure, but the sound didn’t wake him up and you let out a small breath at that. he’s still turned over with his bicep tucked under his head. tiptoeing your way over, you nearly trip over a stray sweatshirt on the floor but quickly catch yourself with a crabbed huff.
trying to cause as little commotion as possible, you delicately peel his blankets back with just your pointer finger and your thumb, the same way you’d done to that random pair of his boxers that had somehow ended up mixed in with your load of laundry last week. a silent prayer to somehow become weightless recites in your mind as you carefully sit down on the opposite side of his bed, head swishing over your shoulders to peer at his back every now and then in hopes of catching any sign of him stirring so you can bail before it’s too late.
and you’re sure you’re in the clear now, but just as you go to swing your legs over, your ear catches a faint grunt from beside you. your teeth catch your lip, eyes shutting as you steel yourself and mouth a muted curse.
megumi was up the moment he felt the bed dip, sleep immediately leaving him once he’d turned his head and saw you sitting on his mattress. certainly he’s hallucinating. certainly, you are not sitting on his bed right now. he rapidly blinks the mist from his vision and you can feel his searing gaze boring into the back of your head, even more so when you continue to lay down as if what you’re doing is completely normal.
“what the hell do you think you’re doing?” his voice is groggy and oozing with irritation, you can tell by the way his tone harshly nips at your ears. he’s even grumpier when his sleep is disrupted.
“um… going to bed.” you mumble, hesitantly pulling the linen fabric over your shoulder as you sink lower.
megumi can’t tell if he’s dreaming or having a nightmare. he’s propped on his elbow now, face screwed into one of incredulity at the gall of your answer.
“have you lost your mind? or are you that drunk where you’ve forgotten where your own room is?”
while your head is still spinning and that clearly explains why you’d even had the courage to walk your ass down the hall and to his door, that’s not the reason you’re here.
you wish the mattress would just open up and swallow you whole.
“i threw up on my bed.” your voice is small when you answer.
it’s silent for a few seconds but you swear it feels like a minute, and the only thing you think you can hear is the blood rushing to your face from sheer embarrassment. with bated breath you roll your lips between your teeth.
he mutters something unintelligible, quiet enough so you can’t hear, his body collapsing onto the bed and your lungs filling with much needed air when his bare back turns towards you once again. the sheets tugging in his direction when he pulls them over his body.
“if i feel so much as one cold toe touch my leg i swear to god you’re sleeping on the floor.”
and if only god knew megumi was bluffing, the heavens would strike him down right where he lay.
riding your boyfriend satoru for the first time (o^^o)
you're already halfway down when you realize you might have bitten off more than you can handle.
satoru's cock stretches you open inch by inch, and even with all the prep—his fingers, his mouth, the way he worked you open on the bed of his dorm room until you were dripping and begging—it's still a lot. he's big. you knew that from the way he'd felt against your thigh, from the way he'd groaned when you'd wrapped your hand around him earlier. knowing and feeling are two very different things.
"easy," he murmurs, and his voice is lower than usual, rougher. his hands are on your hips, thumbs pressing into the jut of bone there, but he's not guiding you. he's holding you steady. letting you set the pace. "easy, sweetheart. breathe for me."
you do. shaky inhale through your nose, slow exhale through parted lips. your thighs are trembling where they're bracketing his hips, knees pressed into the mattress on either side of him. he's propped up against the headboard, shirt long since discarded, hair a mess of white silk falling into his eyes.
he looks wrecked already, and you've barely started.
"that's it," he says, and there's a strain in his voice that wasn't there before, a tightness around the edges. "you're doing so good. just—take your time."
you sink lower. another inch. the sensation is overwhelming—full, hot, stretching you in a way that borders on too much. your fingers dig into his shoulders, nails leaving crescents in his skin. he hisses, but it's not from pain.
"fuck," he breathes, head falling back against the headboard. "fuck, you're tight."
you pause, breath catching. "is that bad?"
"no." he laughs, but it comes out strangled. "no, it's not bad. it's—" he grits his teeth, jaw working. "it's a lot. in a good way. keep going."
you push down further, and finally, finally, you're seated fully in his lap. his cock is buried to the hilt inside you, and you feel impossibly full, stretched around him, your body struggling to accommodate his size. you stay still for a moment, just breathing, just feeling.
his hands slide up from your hips to your waist, palms warm and slightly sweaty. he's looking at you with an expression you can't quite read—hunger and wonder and something softer mixed in.
"okay?" he asks.
you nod, swallowing. "okay."
"good." he shifts beneath you, and you feel him twitch inside you, making you gasp. his lips curl into a smirk, but it's strained, his composure crumbling at the edges. "now move when you're ready. however you want. i've got you."
you start slow. experimental rolls of your hips, testing the angle, the friction. each movement sends sparks through your nerves, makes your breath stutter. his hands guide but don't push, his thumbs tracing lazy circles on your skin.
"like that," he says, voice rough. "just like that."
you find a rhythm. rocking forward, grinding down, the wet sound of your bodies meeting filling the quiet room. his head falls back again, eyes fluttering shut, and you watch his throat work as he swallows.
"you feel incredible," he rasps. "god, you have no idea how good you feel."
you pick up the pace, bracing your hands on his chest. the new angle makes him hit deeper, and you moan, head dropping forward. he takes the opportunity to lean up, catching your mouth in a kiss that's all tongue and teeth and desperation.
when he pulls back, he's breathing hard. his bangs are plastered to his forehead. there's a flush spreading across his chest.
"you're doing so well," he says, and his voice cracks on the last word. "fucking—perfect. you're perfect."
you roll your hips harder, chasing the friction, the pressure building low in your belly. his hands grip your waist tighter, and you can feel him fighting the urge to take over, to flip you and fuck you into the mattress.
"close?" he asks.
you nod, too breathless for words.
"me too." he laughs, shaky. "fuck, me too. you're gonna make me—"
he cuts himself off with a groan, his hips bucking up into you despite himself. you gasp at the sudden depth, your walls clenching around him.
"sorry," he grits out. "sorry, i just—you feel too good. i can't—"
his composure is crumbling. the infuriatingly cocky sorcerer is falling apart beneath you, his breathing ragged, his hands shaking where they hold you. he's babbling now, half-words and broken praises, telling you how good you are, how tight, how perfect.
"come for me," he gasps. "please. i need to feel you—"
you do. the command, the desperation in his voice, the way he's barely holding himself together—it pushes you over the edge. you clench around him, a broken moan falling from your lips as pleasure rips through you.
he follows a second later, with a groan that sounds almost pained, his hips thrusting up as he spills inside you. you feel every pulse, every hot rush of him filling you, and it draws your own orgasm out until you're trembling and spent.
you collapse against his chest, both of you slick with sweat, breathing hard. his arms wrap around you, pulling you close, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.
"holy shit," he mutters.
you laugh weakly. "good?"
he tilts your chin up, kissing you slow and deep.
"perfect."
a/n: requested by a lovely anon it was so much fun 2 write hihi
ᝰ.ᐟ your soft bf!toji is a total meanie in bed ⸝⸝ 18+ mdni
mean bf!toji spends the whole day being a total sweetheart—cooking you dinner, giving you soft kisses on the forehead, and holding your hand in public—only to completely lock the bedroom door, pin your wrists over your head, and look down at you with a dark, heavy stare that tells you the "nice guy" act is officially over for the night.
mean bf!toji is normally so gentle with his hands during the day, using his thumb to softly wipe a stray crumb off your face or tuck your hair behind your ear, but the second he gets you on the bed, those same hands are gripping your jaw tightly, forcing you to tilt your head up so he can admire how pretty you look when you're scared of him.
mean bf!toji loves to pamper you in public, happily carrying all the heavy grocery bags, pulling you to the safe side of the sidewalk, and letting you pick whatever movie you want to watch, all while secretly plotting exactly how he's going to make you cry and beg for mercy later that evening.
mean bf!toji is so hyper-aware of the contrast in his behavior that he uses it to mess with your head; he’ll lean down while you're trembling under him and whisper against your ear, “you like it better when i’m mean to you, don’t you?”
mean bf!toji ignores your whines and protests when he changes positions or pulls you around like a ragdoll. in daily life, he moves carefully around you so he doesn't accidentally hurt you, but in bed, he uses his massive size and weight to completely overwhelm you, letting you feel exactly how helpless you are against him.
mean bf!toji makes you beg for every single thing. even if he knows you're desperate, he will completely stop moving, prop himself up on his elbows, and stare at you with a smug smirk until you verbally ask for exactly what you want.
mean bf!toji loves slapping your pussy with his palm right before going in, loving the sharp, loud crack it makes against your skin and the way it leaves a bright pink mark that contrasts with his tanned hands. he’ll do it just to startle a loud gasp out of you, watching your thighs twitch as he tells you to open up wider.
mean bf!toji likes dragging the heavy, blunt tip of his cock up and down your wet slit, teasing you ruthlessly until you're begging him to just put it in. instead of giving in, he’ll slap his wet tip against your clit over and over, mocking the needy little noises you make and telling you that you haven't earned it yet.
mean bf!toji just laughs when you try to complain that he’s being too rough or too mean. he won't slow down; instead, his chest rumbles against your back as he grips your hips harder, driving into you with even less mercy just to prove that he rules the bed.
mean bf!toji loves leaving you completely ruined and breathless. he likes looking down at the mess he made of you—smudged makeup, tangled hair, and thighs shaking uncontrollably—while he casually rolls off to grab a drink, completely unfazed while you can barely move.
mean bf!toji will pull your hair back with just enough force to make your eyes water, forcing you to look directly at him while he pounds into you. he hates when you try to hide your face in the pillows or close your eyes; he wants to see every single expression of pleasure and overload on your face.
mean bf!toji uses verbal degradation as a tool to keep you completely flustered. he’ll call you a "good little slut," mock how loud you're breathing, or ask you why you're crying over a little bit of fun, his voice deep, raspy, and completely devoid of the warmth he usually speaks to you with.
mean bf!toji will deliberately overstimulate you, rubbing his thumb harshly against your clit while hammering into you, and when you start to sob because it's too much, he’ll just kiss you hard to muffle your screams and keep going right through your orgasm.
mean bf!toji flips the switch right back to being a doting boyfriend the next morning. he’ll kiss your bruised hips, bring you painkillers and breakfast in bed, and pull you into a warm, gentle cuddle—leaving you completely dizzy over how the man who was so beautifully cruel to you a few hours ago is now softly rubbing your back and calling you his baby.
inexperienced!aang breathlessly asking, "am i doing it right?" as he pounds a glassy and cross-eyed you into the mattress. "p-please tell me if i'm doing it right."
the way your cunt clamps and spasms around his thick cock, gushing enough slick to create the most depraved noises is answer enough.
sucking toji off because he made you jealous (˶˃⤙˂˶)
the job takes exactly eight minutes longer than it should.
you know this because you've been counting. back pressed against the passenger seat of his black sedan, arms crossed tight over your chest as you watch him lean against the chain-link fence outside that rundown warehouse. he's got that grin on his face—the one that says he's enjoying himself way too much for someone who's supposed to be gathering intel on a target. the woman he's talking to is young, pretty in that desperate, cheap way that hangs around betting parlors. she's touching his arm. laughing too loud.
toji's wearing that black shirt you like, the one stretched thin over his shoulders, sleeves rolled up to show the corded muscle of his forearms. he knows exactly what he's doing. the way he tilts his head, the lazy drag of his thumb along his bottom lip as he listens to her ramble. he's fishing for information. you know this. you knew this before you even got in the car.
doesn't make it sting any less.
he finally saunters back, sliding into the driver's seat with a satisfied grunt. the car smells like him—cigarettes, gun oil, cheap cologne. he doesn't look at you as he turns the key, engine rumbling to life.
"she buy it?" you ask, voice flat.
"bought it, wrapped it, put a bow on it." he glances at you then, dark eyes glinting with amusement. "what's that face for?"
"nothing."
he laughs, low and rough, and pulls out of the lot. "jealous? cute."
you don't answer. just stare out the window as the city bleeds past in smears of neon and headlights. he keeps talking—something about the target's schedule, a drop point, easy money—but you've stopped listening. your jaw is tight. fingers digging into your own arms.
he notices. of course he notices. toji doesn't miss much.
"hey." his hand lands on your thigh, warm and heavy. squeezes once. "i'm just doing my job. you know that."
"i know."
"you're still mad."
"i'm not mad."
he huffs a laugh, shaking his head. "stubborn."
the car pulls up to his place—a rundown garage he calls a lab, where he tinkers with weapons and stores his gear. he kills the engine and reaches for the door handle, but you don't move. you're watching him. waiting.
"coming in?" he asks.
you unbuckle your seatbelt slowly. deliberately. you don't get out of the car.
instead, you climb.
the center console digs into your knee as you swing your leg over, settling into his lap with your back to the steering wheel. he raises an eyebrow, caught off guard for once. the hunter's instincts flicker, then settle into something darker when he sees the look in your eyes.
"oh," he says, voice dropping an octave. "so that's how it's gonna be."
you don't answer with words. you answer by reaching down, palming the growing bulge in his jeans. he's already half-hard—the bastard gets off on making you jealous, you know that now. the realization should make you angry. instead, it just makes you want to ruin him.
his breath catches when you work his belt open, metal clinking in the quiet of the car. the leather of the driver's seat creaks as he shifts, letting you work. you pull his cock out—thick, heavy, already smearing a bead of precum across his stomach. he hisses when your fingers wrap around the base.
"thought you were mad," he says, but there's no bite in it. his hand finds your hip, grips hard enough to bruise.
"i'm not doing this for you." you lean down, lips brushing against the tip. "i'm doing this so you remember who you come home to."
his laugh dies in his throat when you take him in your mouth.
you don't start slow. you're too wound up for that. your lips seal around the head, tongue swiping across the slit, tasting salt and want. he groans, deep and guttural, and his hand slides from your hip to the back of your head. he doesn't push. just rests it there, fingers threading through your hair as you sink lower.
he fills your mouth completely, stretching your jaw. you breathe through your nose, adjusting to the weight of him on your tongue, then pull back with a wet sound before taking him deeper. his hips twitch. that vein on the underside of his cock pulses against your tongue.
"fuck," he mutters, head falling back against the headrest. "you're trying to kill me."
good.
you set a rhythm—slow descents, hollow-cheeked pulls, your hand working the base in time with your mouth. precum slicks your lips, makes the slide easier. the car windows are fogging up, the world outside forgotten. there's only the wet sound of your mouth on his cock, his breathing getting rougher, his fingers tightening in your hair.
he's getting close. you can feel it in the way his thighs tense, the way his hips start to fuck up into your face with shallow, desperate thrusts. you double down, taking him all the way to the back of your throat, holding there until your eyes water.
"shit—" his voice cracks. "i'm gonna—"
you don't pull away.
he comes with a guttural groan, hand fisting your hair as his hips buck. hot pulses fill your mouth, thick and bitter, and you swallow around him, working him through every last spasm until he goes slack beneath you.
you pull off slowly, dragging your tongue along his length, tasting the last traces of him before wiping your mouth with the back of your hand.
he stares at you, chest heaving, dark hair plastered to his forehead. that lazy grin returns, softer now.
"damn," he breathes. "maybe i should make you jealous more often."
you slide back into your seat, buckling your belt with a satisfied smirk.
Simon's heart dropped and his blood began to boil. Not supposed to be here? This was the only place he was supposed to be. Lying in the warm grass, holding you in his arms. How could you not want him here?
He'd been to hell and back just to be with you again. How could you push him away like this?
You gently reached, caressing his cheek. "Simon, please. I need you to go back now. I promise I'll see you soon."
Tears welled in Simon's eyes. For the first time in a long time, he begged. "Please, please baby. Let me stay. Please, I need you. Please," he sobbed. "Don't do this to me. Please, I need you. Please, love."
"I love you, Simon Riley"
Simon slowly opened his eyes. Your voice was still ringing in his ears yet here he was, back in the bathroom. The bathroom of the house you used to share. The bathroom where he took all those pills. The pills instead of a bullet because he still wanted to look nice for you. You always said how much you loved seeing his face.
The pill bottle is still there. The dust he never bothered to clean is still there. The hollow, pressing weight in his chest is still there. But something was different. His cheek was warm, the same cheek you touched. He could almost feel your skin against his.
Court jester Dick Grayson fucks you after a boring royal dinner.
Dick Grayson x Princess reader
"Mmm, you're so tight princess," Drawled the man on top of you, sliding his thick, hard cock into your dripping wet entrance.
You bit your lip and hid your face in the crook of his neck to suppress a moan as he thrust into you slow and deep. You felt his cock throb inside of you as it stretched your tight little pussy.
When you had finally gotton to your room tonight after a boring dinner with some nobility from another kingdom, you found none other than the court jester, and your secret lover waiting for you on your bed. He wasted no time ripping your dress off and throwing you on the bed, depraved of your touch and completely ready to ruin you.
"Mhm- fuck, I really hated th-that perverted adviser staring at you-augh-li-like you were so-some piece of meat," He groaned into your hair, his pace steady but every thrust hitting impossibly deep.
Naturally, being your family's royal jester, Dick had to be at the dinner to entertain everyone, though this time he didn't do many of his acrobatic tricks. He mostly made crude jokes about the visiting kingdom-it makes sense why now.
Your toes curled and nails dug into his back, leaving red scratches. "Augh, Di-dick, its too deep," You cried, closing your eyes and turning your head away from him.
"Shhh-you're o-aauhh-you're okay, you can take it," He cooed, quickening his pace.
You arched your back as your eyes rolled in your head, "Pl-please," You cried, your mind already in a daze.
Dick chuckled as his cock drilled into your tight little hole, "Please what Princess?" He asked, kissing up your neck and jaw, "It hasn't even been five minutes. Don't tell me you're cock drunk already," He breathed, sweat forming on his temples.
Your hips involuntarily rolled to meet his, matching his pace, the pleasure of his cockhead hitting that perfect spot inside you and the pain of the stretch of his giant cock you'd never get used to tearing you apart.
"Pl-please, aaugh, pleeease-g-go harder," You squealed.
He moved up and sat on his knees, "Anything for you, Your Majesty" His hands gripped your hips roughly and he pulled his cock back so only the tip was inside your leaking cunt, and without warning he slammed his length in fully-hard.
Your eyes widened and you let out an obscene moan. Dick tried and failed to hold in a moan as his posture faltered slightly, his body overcome with pleasure.
You gripped his wrists hard, breathing deeply. He stayed there for a moment, not moving, still sheathed inside you, both of your chests rising and falling.
"God, I missed being inside you so much," He groaned, before he suddenly started thrusting inside you again.
His pace was relentless and brutal. With each hard thrust his cock beautifully hit that sweet spot inside your gummy walls that made you grip the sheets so hard your knuckles turned white. The bed shook with the force of his thrusts, the headboard knocking against the wall. Thank goodness it was just your bathroom on the other side.
You arched your back deeper as he thrust into you, neither of you able to form words-him too focused on making you cum, and your own mind gone blank with how good his cock was drilling into you.
One of his hands moved from your hip and grabbed your breast, squeezing. Tears slipped down your face from the pleasure coiling in your gut and the hard grasp of his hand on you soft breast.
He groaned and pinched your nipple before smoothing over it with his thumb-easing the sting. A different kind of pleasure overtook your body each time his finger brushed over your nipple, each stroke of his thumb in tune with the pace of his cock inside you.
"AUGH-" You cried-loud-really loud.
"Shush" He said harshly, his hand on your nipple moving to your neck, and his hand on your hip moving to cover your mouth.
He squeezed your throat lightly, "Fu-fuck-you want someone to hear us princess? Hm? Wanna get caught? The kingdoms perfect little princess getting fucked to tears like the little closet whore she is?" He moaned, thrusting into you impossibly harder. "Fuck-ha-haah." He was getting sloppy now, his thrusts haphazard as he chased his high.
"Diiicckk" You whined under his palm, tears still dropping from your eyes, "I-Im close," You whimpered.
"That's it, atta girl. You wanna cum, princess? Cmon, come all over my cock." He mused, both of his hands around your throat now, tightening his grip.
You nodded your head weakly, unable to even mumble a response.
He moved his right hand and his thumb found your clit. You squirmed at the sensation. The coil in your stomach snapped immediately. With a light flick of his thumb over your sensitive nub you came hard on his cock, your walls clamping impossibly tighter around his massive length.
Your juices coated his cock and mixed with your slick made a mess between you. The erotic juices squirting all over his lower stomach and dripping down his balls, your slick running down your pussy that was still stuffed with his cock and ruining your expensive silk sheets.
Before you could let out a scream his hand covered your mouth again, "Shh. Now be good and help me cum, princess." He groaned on top of you, "Fuuck-ye-yea squeeze me just like that".
Your walls fluttered around his cock as he fucked you through your orgasm. He kept thrusting into you brutally, your squeals and moans of overstimulation muffled under his palm as he kept thrusting into you.
"Haah-i-itss too muuuch," You cried, unintentionally squeezing his cock and pulling him deeper into you.
"Fu-fuck, Im-im so close princess-ah-sh-shit-o-ohh-im cumming. Fuck." He wrapped his arms around you and hid his face in the crook of your neck, sloppily thrusting into your leaking, dripping cunt, "Im cumming-mmm-im cumming, im cumming, im cumming," He whimpered as he finally shot his seed into you.
Your eyes rolled back into your head as you felt the hot ropes of cum fill your pussy up. You could feel your mixed arousal dripping down your used folds and onto the sheets.
He lay on top of you breathing heavily, with his cock still buried deep inside you. Your shaky hands found his hair and tangled in the black locks.
He moved slightly and began kissing up your neck, “That was amazing,” He mumbled against your throat.
You pulled his head up and pulled his lips to yours, catching him in a sweet kiss. He kissed you gently, the contrast compared to how he fucked you just a few moments prior obvious.
You pulled back from the kiss and brushed his hair out of his face, “Can w-“
*KNOCK*KNOCK*KNOCK*
Quick raps on your door made you both freeze.
“Princess are you alright in there?” Came a concerned female voice. It was your first lady in waiting.
“I’m fine! Juts stubbed my toe,” You called out from the bed, Dick still resting on top of you.
“Do you need assistance Your Highness?” She asked.
“I’m fine, go on to bed,” You replied, hoping it’d be enough to get rid of her. Seemingly it was because you heard quiet footsteps retreating down the hallway.
You let out a quiet breath and melted into the bed.
“Told you to be quiet,” Grinned Dick on top of you.
You slapped his chest playfully and then pulled him close to you, “It’s worth getting caught every time,” You sigh.
This is NOT proofread, don’t crucify me.
Jester Dih Grayson is REAL. He didn’t spend all that time in the circus for nothing! Imagine that backstory is cannon to this too.
Jester Dih would’ve ate in Dark Knights of Steel like hello, it’s perfect.
description: everyone in hawkins thinks you and eddie munson are already married. honestly? you can’t even blame them. between the shared garage, the constant flirting, and the way he cannot help but stare, it’s getting harder and harder to pretend there’s nothing going on between you.
pairing: mechanic!eddie x mechanic!reader (fem!reader)
tags: mechanic!eddie, eddie x you, no y/n, coworkers to lovers, unresolved sexual tension (until...), small town romance, flirtationship, mechanic core aftercare, old married couple energy, fucking on a '67 impala, workplace romance, tension tension tension, whimpering eddie, teasing each other mercilessly
TW: NSFW (18+) minors do not interact!!!!, PiV, unprotected, needy eddie
WC: 4.1k
A/N: requested by my beloved @bitterestwillow I HOPE YOU ENJOY QUEEN AHHHHHHH. reblogs are a writer's best friend <3
yes, i had to use this gif for this fic...it does something to me idk......
The bell above the garage door jingled as Mrs. Patterson dug through her purse for her checkbook, glasses sliding halfway down her nose, while you leaned against the counter with a rag tucked into your back pocket.
“So,” you said, tapping the invoice with your pen, “the rattling sound was your serpentine belt. Thing was practically shredded.”
The elderly woman gasped softly. “Oh, dear.”
“Yeah, but you caught it before it snapped completely, which is good. We replaced the belt, topped off your coolant, changed the oil, and Eddie patched that little leak underneath your radiator.” You smiled reassuringly. “She’s good as new now.”
Beside her, Mr. Patterson squinted out toward the garage floor where the familiar sound of classic rock echoed through the open bays. “Which one’s Eddie again?”
Almost on cue, Eddie emerged from beneath a lifted pickup truck with grease smeared across his cheek and curls shoved back with a bandana.
Sweat darkened the collar of his black tank top, coveralls hanging around his hips, while he carried over a sweating tray of lemonade cups.
“There you are,” he said, setting them carefully on the counter. “It’s too damn hot outside not to hydrate.”
Mrs. Patterson practically lit up. “Well, aren’t you sweet?”
“Tell her that more often,” Eddie said, jerking his thumb toward you. “She’s mean to me.”
You rolled your eyes. “I told you to stop using the good shop towels to wipe down your van.”
“They’re towels.”
“They are expensive towels.”
Mr. Patterson laughed under his breath while Eddie handed them their drinks with an exaggerated flourish.
“Anything for my favorite customers.”
Mrs. Patterson smiled fondly at him before looking back toward you. “That husband of yours is such a gentleman.”
You nearly choked on your own spit.
Eddie froze for exactly one second before slowly turning toward you with the most insufferable grin imaginable.
“Oh?” he said. “You hear that, sweetheart?”
“Oh my God,” you muttered immediately.
The poor woman looked horrified. “Oh! I’m sorry, I just assumed—”
“No, no,” Eddie cut in smoothly, leaning against the counter. “Please continue. This is the best day of my life.”
You shot him a glare while he looked seconds away from laughing himself unconscious.
Mrs. Patterson pointed knowingly between the two of you. “You’ve got the look.”
“What look?” you asked suspiciously.
“The ‘been in love for years’ look.”
Eddie outright cackled. You grabbed the invoice and shoved it toward them. “Okay! Your total is—.”
The elderly couple left smiling to themselves while Eddie leaned against the counter, watching you with entirely too much amusement. The second the door shut behind them, he pushed off the counter and followed you toward the office.
“Husband, huh?” he mused.
“Don’t start.”
“I personally think it has a nice ring to it.”
You dropped into the squeaky office chair with a dramatic groan. “You’re unbearable.”
Eddie leaned against the doorway, crossing his arms over his chest. “And yet you keep having me back every morning.”
“You work here.”
“Semantics.”
“Hey,” Eddie said suddenly.
You looked up, and he tossed something shiny toward you, and you barely caught it before it hit your face. Your keys, the little keychain Dustin made you years ago, swung between your fingers.
“You left ‘em by the toolbox again.”
“Oh.” You blinked. “Thanks.”
“Mmhm,” he hummed smugly. “Good thing your husband’s lookin’ out for you.”
You pointed toward the door. “Get out.”
Instead of leaving, Eddie just grinned wider, sunlight pouring in behind him from the open garage bays.
“Say it once.”
“No.”
“C’mon, sweetheart. Just one little ‘thank you, my husband.’”
You threw a balled-up receipt at his head while his laughter rang through the entire garage.
By noon, the July heat had turned the garage into a furnace.
Every bay door was rolled open, old fans rattling uselessly in the corners while the smell of motor oil, hot pavement, and cigarette smoke clung heavily in the air.
Foreigner blasted low from the radio perched near Eddie’s toolbox, occasionally cutting out whenever someone used the compressor.
You were bent over the hood of a Mustang, wiping grease from your hands while talking to a customer, your laugh carrying across the shop floor. And across said shop floor, Eddie was staring. Not subtly, either.
Steve had noticed immediately, mostly because Eddie had been holding the exact same wrench for nearly three minutes without moving.
Steve slowly lowered his sandwich. “Jesus Christ.”
“Hm?” Eddie hummed absently.
“You are down catastrophically bad.”
That got Eddie to blink. “What?”
Steve pointed dramatically across the garage where you were explaining something with animated hand gestures, sunlight catching the sheen of sweat on your skin.
“You’ve been staring at her this entire time.”
Eddie scoffed, finally looking away. “I have not.”
“You absolutely have.”
“I’m working.”
“You’ve been holding that wrench upside down.”
Eddie glanced down, and sure enough, he was.
“Shut up.”
Steve barked out a laugh and leaned back in the lawn chair they’d dragged outside for Eddie's lunch break. It was honestly kind of ridiculous to witness at this point.
Everyone in Hawkins knew something was going on between the two of you, except apparently the two of you.
The lingering touches, the teasing, the way Eddie always magically appeared beside you whenever some asshole customer got too flirty.
The way you unconsciously reached for his cigarettes to steal one straight from his mouth…and the constant staring, especially the staring.
Steve watched Eddie’s eyes drift right back over toward you again.
“Oh my God,” he groaned. “There he goes again.”
Eddie ignored him completely. You’d just looked up from the engine bay, pushing hair from your forehead with the back of your wrist, and the second your eyes met Eddie’s from across the garage, you smiled.
It was quick, maybe two milliseconds, but enough to make Eddie smile back immediately without even realizing it. Steve made a loud fake gagging noise.
Eddie finally tore his eyes away. “What is your problem?”
Steve stared at him incredulously. “Dude. I genuinely thought you two would be married by now.”
Eddie choked on his drink. “What?”
“I’m serious,” Steve continued. “Like three years ago, I would've put money on it.”
Eddie rubbed the back of his neck, trying very hard to act unaffected while heat crept up beneath the grease on his cheeks.
“Yeah, well,” he muttered. “Hasn’t happened.”
“Why not?”
Eddie began to argue, but froze up. Because honestly? He didn’t fucking know.
Somewhere along the way, the flirting had become second nature. So had the late nights at the garage together. So had sharing fries at the diner after closing. So, had you climbing into the passenger seat of his van without asking. So had you wearing his flannels whenever the shop got cold in winter.
It had all become so normal that crossing the line felt weirdly terrifying. Steve watched the gears turning in Eddie’s head and sighed dramatically.
“You’re both idiots.”
“Says you.”
“I’m serious.” Steve pointed between him and you across the garage. “She might as well have personally invented beer by the way you stare at her. It’s honestly kinda sad, man.”
Eddie snorted. “That’s dramatic.”
Steve deadpanned, “You literally stopped mid-cigarette yesterday because she walked by in shorts.”
“That is such a lie!”
“It is the truth.”
Before Eddie could argue, your voice cut across the garage.
“Munson!” Both men looked over.
You stood beside the Mustang with your hands on your hips. “You gonna come help me, or are you too busy staring at me again?”
Steve immediately burst into obnoxious laughter while Eddie nearly dropped his beer. And from the way you smirked before ducking back under the hood, you absolutely knew what you were doing.
The next morning was somehow even hotter.
By ten a.m., the air inside the garage already felt thick enough to chew through, every fan working overtime while the sun beat down through the open bay doors. You had your coveralls tied around your waist, a cropped tank clinging to your skin with sweat, as you worked under the hood of a Jeep.
And Eddie was being an absolute menace. It started innocent enough; he’d complained dramatically about the heat for twenty minutes straight before finally yanking his shirt over his head with a frustrated, “I’m gonna die in this godforsaken town.”
You had looked up at exactly the wrong moment. Because suddenly there was just, Eddie. Shirtless. Hair tied back messily at the nape of his neck. Grease streaked across his stomach and chest. Dog tag and guitar pic hanging against tan skin. His jeans slung low on his hips while he wiped sweat from the back of his neck with a rag.
And the worst part? The asshole noticed immediately. You looked away so fast you nearly smacked your head against the underside of the hood. From somewhere across the garage, you heard another mechanic whistle loudly.
“Ohhhh,” he sang. “How the tables have turned.”
“Shut up, Mark,” you muttered.
Eddie, meanwhile, looked entirely too pleased with himself. For the next hour, he became absolutely insufferable. Needlessly stretching, standing too close, asking you to hand him tools he absolutely could’ve reached himself.
At one point, he bent over the engine bay beside you, and you caught the smell of gasoline, cigarette smoke, and his cologne and nearly forgot your own name.
“Wrench?” he asked casually, but you evidently handed him the wrong one.
Eddie bit back a grin. “Sweetheart, this is a screwdriver.”
Heat flooded your face. From behind him, Mark made an obnoxious gagging noise, and you narrowed your eyes.
Fine. If Eddie wanted to play this game? Two could absolutely play. Play a stupid game, win a stupid prize, right?
About twenty minutes later, Eddie was halfway underneath a truck when he heard your laugh ring across the garage.
That’s not unusual. However, what was unusual was the guy you were laughing with. Some customer leaned against the front counter while you smiled up at him, twirling a socket wrench lazily between your fingers.
Eddie immediately rolled himself out from under the truck on the creeper.
“What’s that?” Mark asked innocently from nearby.
“Nothing,” Eddie muttered.
“Looks like jealousy.”
“Not jealous.”
“Mhm.”
The customer laughed at something you said, briefly touching your arm, which caused Eddie to sit up straighter. Then the asshole smiled.
“Oh,” Mark murmured. “He’s flirting.”
Eddie stood immediately.
Mark burst out laughing. “THERE he is.”
Before Eddie could storm over there and make an idiot of himself, the rumble of an engine pulled into the lot. All three of you looked over automatically, and then Eddie froze.
“No fucking way.”
The car rolling slowly into the garage was gorgeous: black paint gleaming beneath the sunlight, chrome shining, low growl of the engine unmistakable.
A 1967 Chevy Impala. The entire garage seemed to pause.
Even you looked impressed. “Well,” you said softly. “Would you look at that?”
The driver climbed out, explaining something about rough idling and overheating, but Eddie barely heard a word. Because holy shit, it was pristine.
You walked slowly around the car, fingertips dragging lightly over the hood appreciatively. “She’s beautiful.”
And unfortunately for Eddie? The way you said it sounded dangerously similar to the tone you sometimes used with him. Mark caught the look on Eddie’s face and immediately started grinning.
“You alright there, big guy?”
Eddie ignored him entirely, stepping beside you near the Impala. “Think it’s the thermostat,” he murmured, eyes flicking toward you instead of the car.
You glanced up, and there it was again: that stupid tension. Especially when your gaze dipped briefly down his bare chest before snapping back up. A smug little grin tugged at his mouth.
“Oh, now who’s staring?” he asked quietly.
You held his gaze for a long second before reaching forward and grabbing the grease rag tucked into the back of his jeans. Eddie blinked, then watched you slowly wipe your grease-covered hands on it while maintaining eye contact.
Mark made a strangled noise somewhere behind him while the customer looked wildly confused. And Eddie? Eddie looked like he was about two seconds away from losing his mind entirely.
By the time the sun finally started setting, the garage had gone quiet.
The OPEN sign in the front window buzzed faintly before Eddie reached up and flicked it off with grease-stained fingers, plunging the office into dim golden light. Outside, cicadas screamed into the warm Indiana night while the last of the heat clung stubbornly to the concrete floors.
Most nights ended like this lately. Just you and Eddie lingering hours after closing, claiming there was still work to finish when really neither of you seemed particularly eager to leave.
The Impala sat in the center bay now, hood propped open while you leaned halfway into the engine compartment with a flashlight between your teeth. From the radio near Eddie’s toolbox, a slow rock song crackled softly through static.
And across the garage, Eddie was still shirtless, still. All damn day.
You tightened something with your ratchet a little harder than necessary before finally glancing over toward him. He was bent over the workbench this time, curls falling loose from his hair tie while sweat gleamed across his shoulders under the overhead lights.
Honestly, it was getting ridiculous.
“You know shirts exist for a reason, right?” you called.
Eddie didn’t even look up. “Do they?”
“Yes.”
“Huh.”
You rolled your eyes, ducking back under the hood. “Pretty sure OSHA would have a field day with you.”
That finally made him laugh. Then you heard the scrape of his boots as they crossed the garage floor. A second later, Eddie appeared beside you, leaning against the Impala with crossed arms.
Still shirtless, and still oh-so-very smug. “What’s the matter, sweetheart?” he asked innocently. “You don’t like what you see?”
You made the mistake of looking at him fully then. Big mistake, because up close was somehow worse.
Grease streaked across his stomach, forearms flexing where they crossed over each other, and his stupid hair half falling out of the tie from working all day.
Your eyes dipped for half a second too long, and Eddie caught it immediately with a slow grin spreading across his face.
“Oh my God,” he murmured. “You do.”
You snapped your gaze back to the engine. “Shut up.”
“Nah.” He leaned closer. “C’mon, tell me.”
“There’s nothing to tell.”
“Mhm.”
“You’re sweaty.”
“Thought girls liked that.”
“I don’t.”
“Liar.”
Heat crawled up your neck as you tried very hard to focus on the engine instead of the fact that Eddie was standing close enough for his knee to brush yours every few seconds.
“You’ve been staring at me all day,” he said softly.
You scoffed. “You wish.”
“You handed me a screwdriver this morning because you were too busy looking at my chest.”
“That happened one time.”
“And then you wiped your hands on my jeans while making eye contact with me like a psychopath.”
A smile tugged at your mouth despite yourself. “That was funny.”
“It was hot.”
Your ratchet slipped loudly against the engine, then silence. Then Eddie laughed quietly under his breath. You pointed the flashlight at him threateningly. “Don’t.”
But Eddie just leaned further over the hood beside you until your shoulders bumped.
“You know,” he said casually, “if this is your way of admitting you’re into me, there are easier methods.”
You snorted. “Into you? Please.”
“Sweetheart, half this town thinks we’re married already.”
“That’s because old people are nosy.”
“That’s because you look at me like that.”
You frowned. “Like what?”
Eddie’s eyes flicked slowly over your face, enough to make your stomach flip and your face burn pink. “Like you want to kiss me every time I open my mouth.”
Eddie’s grin faltered just slightly when you stepped closer instead of backing away.
“Oh yeah?” you asked lightly.
His eyes flicked over your face. “Yeah.”
You crossed your arms, leaning against the Impala beside him now, shoulder brushing his bare arm. “What about you, huh?”
Eddie blinked once. “What about me?”
“You think I don’t notice?” you continued, voice quieter now. “The staring. Following me around the shop all day?”
“That is not—”
“You literally almost dropped a transmission last month because I called you pretty.”
“That was one time.”
A smile tugged at your mouth. “Mhm.”
Eddie opened his mouth to argue again, but you stepped even closer first, close enough now that he had to tilt his head down to look at you properly. And suddenly, he wasn’t smirking anymore.
Interesting.
“You wanna know what I think?” you murmured.
Eddie swallowed visibly. “What?”
You reached up slowly, fingers hooking around the chain of his dog tags. The sharp inhale he took was immediate.
“Oh, you like this way more than I do.”
His eyes went dark instantly. “Careful,” he said softly.
“Or what?”
Eddie laughed once under his breath, disbelieving almost, like he couldn’t decide if you were trying to kill him on purpose. Then, the tension snapped like a fan belt under too much strain.
You tugged harder on Eddie’s dog tags, pulling him down until his mouth crashed into yours. He groaned into the kiss; raw, needy, and immediately pliant.
His hands hovered at your waist like he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to touch, even after years of circling this exact moment. You solved that for him by grabbing his wrists and planting his grease-streaked palms firmly on your ass.
“Kiss me like you mean it, Munson,” you growled against his lips.
Eddie melted. His mouth opened for you instantly, tongue sliding hot and desperate against yours while you backed him up against the Impala’s fender.
He tasted like cigarettes and the beer he definitely should not have had earlier, and he whimpered, actually whimpered, when you bit his bottom lip and sucked it between your teeth.
“Fuck… sweetheart,” he panted when you finally let him breathe. His cock was already straining against the front of his coveralls, obvious and aching. You shoved a hand between you and palmed him roughly through the fabric. Eddie’s hips jerked forward into your grip with a broken sound.
“Close the hood,” you ordered, voice low.
Eddie blinked, dazed. “Wh—”
“Now.”
He scrambled to obey, reaching over and slamming the heavy hood of the Impala shut with a solid thunk that echoed through the empty garage. The second it latched, you pushed him back, hopped up onto the glossy black hood, and spread your legs in invitation.
Your coveralls were already half-off, tank top shoved up, work jeans unbuttoned, and yanked down your thighs along with your underwear in one impatient motion. Eddie’s eyes went wide and dark, pupils blown as he stared at your exposed pussy glistening under the overhead lights.
“On your knees,” you said, hooking a boot behind his shoulder to drag him forward.
He dropped so fast his knees probably bruised on the concrete. The first drag of his tongue was tentative, almost reverent—then you grabbed a fistful of his messy curls and ground against his face, and Eddie moaned like he’d been waiting his whole life for this.
He licked broad and sloppy, sucking your clit between his lips exactly how you liked it once you told him, “Higher—there, fuck, just like that.”
His hands gripped your thighs, spreading you wider, but he never tried to take control. Every time you tugged his hair or rolled your hips, he whimpered gratefully into your cunt and doubled down, tongue fucking into you while his nose rubbed perfect circles against your clit.
Sweat and grease streaked his bare chest; his cock was leaking a wet spot through his coveralls. You came hard on his tongue, thighs clamping around his head as you rode his face through it, moaning his name loud enough that it probably carried out the open bay doors.
Eddie kept licking you through the aftershocks like he couldn’t bear to stop. When you finally pushed his head back, his chin was shiny with your slick, lips swollen, eyes glassy and adoring.
For a second, you thought he was going to stay soft, sweet, and submissive, but then he grabbed your hips, spun you around, and bent you over the warm hood in one rough motion.
“Eddie—” you started, but he was already kicking your feet apart.
“Please,” he whined, voice cracked and needy as he shoved his coveralls and boxers down just enough to free his cock. It slapped heavily against your ass, dripping wet. “Need to be inside you—fuck, I can’t wait anymore.”
He didn’t give you time to answer. He lined up and pushed in with one desperate thrust, burying himself to the hilt. The broken whimper that tore out of him was pure filth.
“Oh my god—oh fuck, you’re so tight,” he gasped, forehead dropping between your shoulder blades. His hips jerked forward again, shallow and frantic. “Feels so good… so fucking good—”
You gripped the edge of the hood, moaning as he started fucking you harder. He was still whimpering and panting with every thrust, but he had you pinned now; big hands gripping your hips tight enough to bruise, cock driving deep and relentless.
“Eddie—shit—”
“I’m sorry, I just—fuck—” He sounded wrecked, voice cracking as he slammed into you again, the car rocking under the force. One hand slid around to rub messy circles over your clit, too desperate to be coordinated, but perfect anyway. “Can’t stop…wanted this for so fucking long—”
You pushed back against him, and he sobbed a moan, pace turning sloppy and needy.
“Please—please let me come inside you,” he begged right in your ear, hips snapping faster. “I’ll be good—I'll be so good for you, just—fuck, I’m so close already—”
You clenched around him on purpose, and his rhythm stuttered, another broken moan spilling out as his cock throbbed inside you.
He came with a loud, shattered moan, hips jerking as he pumped deep inside you, shuddering and whimpering through every pulse. Even after he finished, he stayed buried in you, breathing hard against your neck, cock still twitching.
“Jesus Christ,” he rasped, voice hoarse. “I think I just died.”
You laughed breathlessly and gently tugged his hair. “Good,” you murmured.
You sat on the edge of the workbench, now wrapped loosely in Eddie’s discarded flannel, while he rummaged through one of the lockers near the tiny office bathroom.
“You alive over there?” he called.
“Mhm.”
“Liar. You sound deceased.”
You laughed tiredly, resting your cheek against your shoulder as you watched him move around the shop, half-dressed and still unfairly attractive. Honestly, it should’ve annoyed you more. Instead, your chest felt warm.
Eddie finally turned around, holding a towel triumphantly over his head. “Ha! Told you I left one here.”
“You keep towels at the shop?”
“Sweetheart, sometimes engines explode on me.”
He crossed back over toward you, hair falling loose around his face again now that the tie had disappeared somewhere in the chaos.
Up close, you noticed how pink his cheeks still were, how his lips looked swollen from the relentless eating and hungry kisses.
“C’mon,” he said gently, nudging your knee apart so he could stand between them. “Let’s get cleaned up.”
The bathroom attached to the office was tiny and honestly kind of terrible. Half the lightbulbs buzzed, the water pressure sucked, and the shower curtain had little motor oil stains near the bottom from years of mechanics rinsing off after long shifts. Still, with Eddie in there with you somehow, it felt strangely intimate.
You stood beneath the spray, rinsing soap from your arms while Eddie sat on the little built-in ledge beside you, lazily rubbing shampoo through your hair with surprising gentleness.
“There’s no way you know how to do this,” you mumbled.
“I’m multi-talented.”
“You use dish soap on your hair sometimes.”
“That is slander.”
You snorted softly while he carefully worked his fingers through the ends of your hair. His touch slowed after a minute, fingertips brushing lightly along the back of your neck.
“You okay?” he asked quietly.
The softness in his voice caught you off guard, and you turned slightly to look at him. “Yeah.”
“Yeah?”
“Mhm.”
Then he reached forward, wiping a little mascara smudge from beneath your eye with his thumb. “Pretty girl,” he murmured.
You leaned against the tile wall while Eddie stood close enough for the warm water to run down both of you at once. Then, after a long, quiet moment, he grinned suddenly.
“So.”
You narrowed your eyes immediately. “What?”
“You think fucking on an Impala counts as our first date?”
anywayy... hope you all enjoyed ;) dean winchester fic coming later today if you're interested MUAHAHAHA
you have a crush on robin buckley and you tell your best friend eddie munson. However, you don't know if she likes girls and while Eddie is trying to investigate he is everything but discreet...
tags/warnings: fluff, kinda slow burn, angst, no smut, alcohol, strangers to enemies to lovers, swearing, modern!au, sm!au, everyone is alive, no upside down, fem!reader, wlw, everyone is +18, hawkins, no smut just mention of it, brief mention of homophobia, steddie.
IMPORTANT: as many videos cannot be attached I will only show a screenshot of them. However, they are in the originally posted twitter thread.
twitter thread
smau playlist
profiles | part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 | part 7 | part 8 | part 9 (final)
kianamaiart
germansingergirl
romaincrisis
tangentwithtanner
vaporwave
