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belokhvostikova · 11 months

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𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐎𝐧𝐞 𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲 𝐅𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐎𝐮𝐭

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

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

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

𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐬, 𝐃𝐨 𝐍𝐨𝐭 𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Nothing!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh, boy, was he wrong.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?” You looked around confused.

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

He was right.

Robin Buckley confirmed it next.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What plan?” Robin interjected.

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

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

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

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

“Ha!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Steve groaned. “Meaning?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I have personality!”

“No, you have hair!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Uh-”

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

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

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

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

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

“Five!”

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

Steve Harrington confirmed it next.

And maybe was a little asshole about it.

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

And who would want that?

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

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

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

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

Steve raised a brow. “Really?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Yeah, this conversation would be going nowhere.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?” Robin prodded.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Okay, so?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Who the hell were you two fooling?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Don’t say it!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Yeah, things in Hawkins, Indiana surely were weird.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Both parties scoffed, rightfully offended.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I have allergies!” Dustin sneezed.

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

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

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

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

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

“Huh?” Dustin asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You make him feel such incredible things.

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

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

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

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

“Robin.”

“Eddie.”

“Come on in.”

“I was going to.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Because I’m in love with Y/N!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You do?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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frenchkisstheabyss · 4 months

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♰ ⱠɆ₲łØ₦ ♰

♰ Pairings: demon!matz x chubby!fem!reader, demon!wooyoung x chubby!fem!reader, a sprinkle of demon!san x chubby!fem!reader, (eventual priest yeosang/jongho/yungi x chubby!fem!reader in the future)

♰ Genre: demon au/horror/smut

♰ Summary: Congratulations, darling! It's your destiny to be impregnated by four demons in an ancient Satanic sex ritual that'll lead to the birth of the Antichrist and bring about the end times. Now hop down into this demons' layer and let's get this thing going. Armageddon awaits.

♰ Word Count: 3.1kish

♰ Warnings: breeding kink, unprotected sex, no pulling out, double vaginal penetration, overstimulation, nipple play, breast play, rough sex, lots of breath play, ritualistic sex, scratching, a lil blood, oral sex (f receiving), sensory play, a lil nibbling, huge huge demon dicks so there's mucho vaginal stretching, the dicks can shapeshift (yes, shapeshift), demons give some dom vibes, reader's for sure subby, a lil possessiveness, demonic powers, religious themes, bondage, a lil choking, telepathy, your body's controlled via powers at some point, pet names (pet, little one, darling, good girl), and that should be it.

♰ A/N: Hold on, hear me out, I can explain. No, I can't. I'm a heathen. I like spooky shit and fucking demons so, ya know, here we are. This is the first part in a series I'm writing and it'll probably only get more unhinged from here honestly so, yeah, hop in babes. It's apocalypse time.

“And he asked him, ‘What is thy name?’And he answered saying, ‘My name is Legion, for we are many’” - Matthew 5:9

♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ Laberinto del Demonio ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰

Tucked away on the tree shrouded grounds of an aging Spanish manor, a labyrinth spirals deep into the earth. Beneath the lush grass and packed dirt, surrounded by the twisted roots of trees that feast upon the decaying corpses of those who attempt to intrude, this labyrinth is home to fearsome creatures who’ve peacefully slumbered here for hundreds of years. But tonight they awaken. For you.

“Such a beautiful girl. Just let me…” Wooyoung compliments, fussing with a few flyaway strands of your hair. In the year that’s passed since Wooyoung came into your life all he’s done is fuss over you. You’ve never known a more attentive lover. Never met a man so intent on catering to your every whim.

Wooyoung likes to say that it’s the Fates that brought the two of you together but that’s more than a grave exaggeration on his part, it’s an outright lie. If he’d waited on the Fates it’d have been another 200 years before he stumbled upon a female descendant of your bloodline. Finding you by any means necessary, however brutal, was paramount to fulfill his mission and to soothe the heart that ached for what he lost when his love was stripped from him all those centuries ago.

Your resemblance to her is uncanny but everything else about you is incredibly unique. It stimulates him in endless ways, everyday with you marked by some new, exciting experience. He adores you beyond measure and the others, soaking you in through their collective consciousness, have grown incredibly fond of you too.

“There. Perfect, as always” he smiles, taking a step back to admire your silk adorned figure glowing under the light of the moon.

Atop the labyrinth, you admire the torch lit staircase that spirals beneath you. It emits a certain energy that hangs heavy in the crisp autumn air, drawing you towards it. You know what awaits you tonight. Wooyoung went over it with you a dozen times in the last 24 hours alone. It’s something you long for, something that has your body flush with heat at the mere thought of. Yet you can’t seem to shake the nerves that have your fingers trembling as the handsomely dressed dark haired man takes your hand.

Wooyoung strokes your cheek and you soften at his touch, “Are you nervous, my pet?”

“Not nervous. It’s just…” you sigh, nibbling at your inner lip, “What if I’m not who you think I am? What if I can’t handle it?”

Wooyoung lets out a laugh you’ve come to liken to a jackal. Loud, mischievous, and undeniably his. “Can’t handle it? It’s that all you’re worried about?”

He steps in closer to you, stealing a quick, passionate kiss from your crimson stained lips. “You were made for this. In every lifetime you have been and in every lifetime you’ll always be. Now come, the others are waiting.” You soak in Wooyoung’s words, forever a sponge ready to absorb his praise, and gift him the faint smile he needs to lead you forward.

Less forward, more down.

Down past walls built of jagged stone, thick vines weaving between the cracks sprouting tiny emerald flowers you’ve never seen before. Down past ancient symbols carved in meticulously measured increments. It seems to be instructions of some sort. For what you aren’t sure but a tugging in the pit of your stomach tells you that you’ll soon find out.

At last reaching the bottom of the labyrinth you find yourself in a cavernous room dimly illuminated by a hundred or so candles. At the center you spot a large pool of slithering black silk not unlike that which hugs your body. Wooyoung leads you to the center and, as he does, you feel the material begin to writhe against your skin. It snakes its way around your curves, exposing your plush figure to the warmth of the pit as you sense you’ve become one with it.

A chorus of voices begin whispering in your ear, invisible hands grasping at your most intimate areas. Wooyoung captures your lips in another kiss, already groaning at thoughts of what he has planned for you. His hands wander below your waist, fingernails growing sharper as they sink into the softness of your ass. You throw your arms around him, deepening the kiss, but he indulges you only for a brief moment before he begins to back away.

“Soon, my love” he says without speaking a word, “See you on the other side.”

“Woo, wait!” you call out to him but a strong wind whips through the room, extinguishing the flames of the outer candles and swallowing him into darkness. The force of the wind knocks you off your feet but you land with no impact at all, the pit catching you in its embrace, thin strips of silk winding around your thighs. The air around you floods with laughter layered upon laughter, Woo’s melded somewhere in between.

“Aah, finally I see her through my own eyes” a voice breathes out, tickling your spine.

“Such a precious little human. So cute” another much deeper voice hums, the vibration ringing through your chest.

“And she looks so, so…” a third voice chimes in, light as a feather, “Soft!”

In the blink of an eye the silk wrapped around your thigh transforms into a hand, pitch black with razor sharp claws dripping a thick scarlet liquid down your leg. You let out a scream of absolute terror and it transforms back into the harmless material. It’s as if it were all in your head and the hand was never there to begin with.

“Seonghwa, you’re scaring her!” Wooyoung shouts and invisible arms envelope you, comforting you as your fear subsides.

“Oh, no. I’m so sorry. I got a little carried away” Seonghwa apologizes, emerging from the pit in his human form.

He swims through the pit as if it were a pool, only his torso visible as he comes between your legs, his much gentler hands smoothing their way up your thigh. You don’t recognize the face of this beautifully androgynous creature but you’re positive you’ve felt his energy around you before.

“Is this better for you?” he asks, breath hitching at the sight of the slick, sweet arousal dripping from your core.

“Seonghwa?” you moan his name for the first time as his tongue extends to flick your bud. “Woo’s told me so much about you.”

A shimmer of gold ripples across the dark pools that sit where his eyes should be, lips curling into a grin that’s both alluring and sinister. “Aah and what did he tell you about me? Good things?” he asks, his tongue whipping down to prod your tight hole. Seonghwa delights in the string of moans you release as he teases you, pushing his moist tongue into you little by little. Your walls eager to grant him entrance, stretching to accommodate the increasing thickness and length of his tongue.

“Good? Y-yes, good” you breathe out, shocked at the depths his tongue manages to reach. There are no limitations, no bottoming out. He slips his way into every part of you. Tickling the back of your stomach, lapping at your walls in every direction at once. You can taste yourself on the back of your tongue, a sudden fullness in your throat suppressing your desperate moans. Your body’s no longer yours. It does only what he wishes it to. Moves only as he commands.

“You’re being greedy. Share her. Now” something inhuman growls, breaking through the fog in your mind.

It’s not something you were meant to hear, the shedding of those performative voices existing solely for your comfort, but you’re far from afraid. On the contrary, such brutality laced with so much need has you clenching tighter, juices gushing out of you as Seonghwa’s tongue thrusts harshly into your core.

Seonghwa grunts defiantly, lifting you a few inches above the pit without laying a finger on you. Your arms dangle at your sides, fingertips grasping at nothing as your body arches against air. Droplets of your arousal run down your thigh, landing on the silk below and the creatures around you release a collective sigh of satisfaction. They can taste you, the ghost of your flavor lingering on their tongues.

“You are like the other women in your bloodline…” the inhuman voice whispers, becoming more human the closer it gets, “Delicious.”

Two hands reach from outside of your field of vision to caress your plump breasts, firmly pinching your sensitive nipples. Your head falls to the side and you're met with another new face. This one more boyish in his handsomeness but more authoritative in his presence. Wooyoung told you that you’d know his leader when you met him. That you’d feel this immense need to gain his approval, to be as obedient to him as you can be.

“This is Hongjoong” you think and the leader smiles in response.

“Delicious and smart, mmm” he hums, leaning into your neck and breathing your scent deep into his lungs. “Let her speak.”

The fullness vacates your throat at once, leaving you gasping for air, all those suppressed moans echoing off the labyrinth’s walls. Seonghwa’s tongue flutters softly inside of you now, his pace slowing just enough for you to speak.

“You know what you’re here for, don’t you little one? Our Wooyoung’s explained it to you well?” Hongjoong asks, kissing you on the neck, his canines nicking at your smooth, fragrant flesh.

You let out a whine, adrenaline coursing through your veins, “Yes…he…everything…told me.”

Hongjoong laughs at your incoherence, finding it quite adorable, “And this is what you want? To let us have our way with you?” He releases one of your breasts, twisting the bud one last time before his hand's gliding down your body to grab handfuls of your belly. “To let us fill you with our seed and let it grow so that we’ll be, all of us, a family?”

You’re fixated on him, a constellation of tears twinkling on your lashes, “I want it. I want this.”

“Aah, then we shouldn’t waste any more time” Hongjoong sighs, gesturing to Seonghwa, “Let’s take her together, shall we?”

Seonghwa’s tongue retreats slowly from your core in an S motion that makes the tip lash sharply at your walls on its way out. The space between you and the pit below begins to close, all current information misleading you to believe the arms you fall into will belong to Hongjoong.

“Relax your body and watch the skies” Seonghwa instructs as you fall against his chest and the vines between the stone walls climb their way up the ceiling. They radiate a vibrant amethyst, the sprouting emerald flowers emitting a sparkling dust that mists through the air.��A trail of it drifts down the wall, drawing your attention to the shadows cast upon it by the light of the candles.

That’s when you see it. The silhouette of the creature crawling its way up your body. You’ve yet to feel him but he’s there, advancing up your figure, twisted horns brushing your cheek as it’s face meets yours. Hongjoong takes you carefully by the throat, tilting your head to face him in his human form, “The skies not the shadows, pet. Never our shadows.” It isn’t a threat and it need not be. Your obedience is promised, sealed with a kiss richer than any wine.

Hongjoong’s mouth sips hungrily from yours as he spreads your legs, the swollen head of his cock leaking arousal as it stretches your already soaked core. “Mmphmm” you whine between his lips, your lids squeezing shut the further he pushes into you. He grants pleasure to your walls unlike any the earthly realm could bring. He seems to transform inside of you, shifting into whatever he must to perfectly fill every ridge of your delicate pussy.

Your body wants to clench around him, to feel him as completely as it can but, no matter how hard you try, an invisible barrier prevents it. Anatomy 101 dictates that, with the size of what you’ve taken, there should be not a centimeter of free space. By all means you should be screaming in agony, not pouring out such blissful moans. But, as Woo said, you were made for this and so there’s room still when Seonghwa’s palms come to rest behind your knees, hips rising to lift his pulsing length into your warmth.

Your eyes fall open and Hongjoong breaks from the kiss, freeing you to gurgle and moan as you at last watch the skies. There’s no need for clenching now, no possible way for you to do so. Buried deep within you, they exist both as one and as two. As one when they thrust into you, their demonic growls contrasting the lightness of your moans. As two when they split at the head, charting their own courses to punish your tender nerve endings.

Seonghwa nuzzles against your neck, licking beads of sweat from your shoulder before it extends down to trace your collarbone. Hongjoong cups one of your breasts, fingertips digging into its plushness as he purses his lips around your nipple, suckling at the bud. Seonghwa’s tongue envelopes your other breast, the tip of his tongue circling your nipple.

Your body’s overcome with an unnatural heat that ravages you like a wildfire. Your mind’s whirling as you think of everything and nothing at once. Your teary eyes remain glued to the skies—always the skies, never their shadows—and your senses begin to shift. No longer are you smelling the honeyed scent of the flowers, you’re tasting it. And what you smell are colors, amethyst and emerald now aromatic as if they were herbs.

“You are such a beauty to behold” Hongjoong’s voice praises, breaking through the fractured barriers of your mind.

Seonghwa’s voice coasts in after his. “We haven’t felt this alive in centuries” it says, tickling your consciousness as does the breath at the back of your neck. “Maybe we could keep her like this. Whining and quivering between us. Forever our plaything. Would you like that, darling?”

Hongjoong dips a hand between your legs, gathering your slick and dragging his drenched fingers across your lips. His laughter rings out in your head, “I think she likes the idea of it. Maybe…”

“Aaah!” you let out a scream that cracks to pieces in your throat. You’re hit with a rush that makes you feel absolutely feral, your nails thrashing at Hongjoong’s back as it overtakes you.

“Good girl” he coos, unphased by the blood trickling from his wounds, “Come your pretty little brains out for us.”

Seonghwa allows your legs to drop, strips of silk reaching up to coil around your ankles. His arms come around your waist, keeping you in place to fuck into you harder and faster. Thrusting. Pulsing. Claiming you. Flooding you with their seed until it’s spilling from your core and you’re coming all over their cocks, soaking them in your juices. Never in your life have you felt this perfect. This complete.

It’s impossible to differentiate between the labored breathing shared between the three of you. Even as you drift down from your high your breaths all sound as if they’ve left the same body. You arrived at this place a human but maybe now not as much. A part of you has been given away and, if it means feeling this way forever, you don’t want it back.

Seonghwa softly brushes your hair away from your cheek, showering it in kisses, “You’ll rest with us now.”

“Don’t be afraid” Hongjoong says, kissing his way down your tummy, “It can get a bit dark down here.”

“Down where?” you ask weakly before you’re snatched beneath the surface of the pit. Instinctively you begin flailing your limbs in a desperate attempt to keep yourself from drowning but your panic’s soothed by the two sets of arms cuddling up to you.

Surrounded by their warmth, you let the darkness swallow you and drift off to sleep.

♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ 2. Despertar ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰

“Woo!” you scream, shooting upright, your heart pounding in your ears. You can’t fathom how long you’ve been asleep, the finer details of the previous events lost in the haze of sleep. You look around for Woo, for any of them, but you’re met only with the light, sparkling mist that hung from the ceiling above the pit.

Stretching your aching legs you feel something slink across them. “Wh…what is this?” you gasp, watching the fluorescent vines curiously explore your figure. Flower buds bloom as the vines reach between your legs, curving to ride your thighs up and around your torso.

“Pretty aren’t they?” Woo asks, appearing behind you without a sound.

“Woo, you scared me!” you pout, tempted to elbow him in the shin for frightening you so terribly.

Woo crouches down to loop his arms around you from behind. “I’m sorry. I didn’t expect you to be so easily frightened all things considered” he teases, resting his chin on your shoulder. A graceful wave of his hand and he’s plucked a flower from the vine, twirling it before your eyes. You marvel at its beauty, the emerald glow creating a halo around your irises.

“Where do these come from?” you ask, brimming with wonder.

There’s a rustling in a nearby corner, the silhouette of a broad shouldered man emerging from the darkness. He smiles at you as he steps into the light of the mist, striking you with his features. Woo tucks the flower behind your ear, pointing to the approaching man. “They come from the mountain.”

The man kneels before you, his dimpled cheeks inches from your face, and the vines tighten around you at his will. “But you can call me San” he says, obviously as smitten with you as you are with him. “Are you ready for us, love?”

You swallow hard and take your last full breath of air before the vine’s snug around your neck. “Yes, mmm, ready” you moan softly, surrendering to the strength of the vines.

San takes you by the chin, his thumb tracing your jawline, “Hmm, breaking you will be fun. Just try not to look down too much. Might get lightheaded.”

“Down?” you ask, glancing around at the bed of vines. You put all of your focus into watching them, searching for something you might’ve missed. But they’re as they were before, humming and glowing, doing their master’s bidding.

San guides your head in the opposite direction, revealing the pit of writhing black silk and the room illuminated with candles.

“Oh, darling, haven’t you figured it out yet? You aren't down there anymore” Wooyoung laughs, tossing a flower into the air and watching it drift down into the pit, “You’re up here.”

#ateez au #ateez smut #ateez x reader #poly ateez x reader #wooyoung x reader #hongjoong x reader #hongjoong smut #seonghwa x reader #seonghwa smut #choi san x reader #ateez x chubby reader #ateez x female reader #ateez x you #chubby reader #plus size reader

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a-book-of-creatures · 5 months

Text

Posting this because I reblogged something about Usborne Books and apparently most people seem to associate Usborne with lift-the-flap books for preschoolers.

Which is weird because to me as a child Usborne books were some of the spookiest books I could get my hands on. They filled the same place as Dorling Kindersley - colorful, creative, informative books that were educational as well as fun to read. And their approach to myths and legends was, not going to lie, very formative for me. If it wasnt' for Usborne, there might not have been ABC.

And much like Dorling Kindersley, Usborne went through a phase of extreme creative experimentation before stagnating into safer forms of publishing. But for a while, Usborne books were mindblowing.

So what has Usborne done then that aren't lift-the-flap books for preschoolers? Well, a lot. Puzzle Adventures. Extreme map and code puzzles. How to Draw Books. Cut-out and build houses, Trojan horses, and dinosaurs (by Luis Rey no less). How to Be A Detective. Nature spotter's guides. Nature Search books. Facts and Lists books that instilled cosmic horror in me years before I knew what cosmic horror was. I could go on forever.

There was a series of excellent myths and legends books which I posted about before.

These were illustrated by Rodney Matthews and were every bit as metal as you'd expect from something by Rodney frickin' Matthews.

Then there were the Quest books which were Where's Waldo-esque books that followed a storyline in a fantasy world.

In this case, they showcased lush art by Nick Harris in which you find various items or characters to make the story progress, as well as other random things (find 10 rats, find 8 clownfishes, etc).

The Tabloid Histories books, oh my gosh.

Egyptian, Greek, Roman, Medieval, etc. history told through tabloid articles and ads.

More about monsters though! There were books about folktales and legends illustrated by Stephen Cartwright.

For me it was my first time hearing of a lot of them, such as the Lambton Worm!

The Haunted World, now that was spooky! With lots of colorful, dripping art by Graham Humphreys.

Introduced me to a lot of ghosts, vampires, and monsters from around the world. Such as the story of Arnold Paole!

And there were maps and diagrams...

... and lindorns [sic] and mokele-mbembes!

The Supernatural Guides had denser text but sadly have not been reprinted anytime recently.

The World of the Unknown series, though... ohohoho those were good.

Of course (no offense to fans of ghosts and UFOs), I had eyes only for the Monsters book. With such gems as the Velue...

... the Lambton Worm...

... and cryptozoological rubbish such as the Monongahela sea serpent (below), the Loch Ness Monster, the Abominable Snowman, and their ilk.

You know, the sort of thing that would keep a 7-year-old fascinated (and perhaps scared under the blankets) for weeks.

Anyway, yeah I just really love Usborne books. Or at least what they used to be.

#creatures #monsters #ghosts #usborne #spiders #dragons #books

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hotvintagepoll · 6 months

Text

Propaganda

Katharine Hepburn (Bringing Up Baby, The Philadelphia Story, The African Queen)—This woman. I have been obsessed with her for years. I know the urban legend is a popular one at this point of her walking around set in her underwear when her pants were stolen and she was left with only a skirt, but the pants thing is honestly enough for her to be the hottest in the room in my book. She refused to wear anything else at a time when the public in general and especially the studios did not like that. She was independent, stubborn, and so so very capable. Competency kink anyone? Also, if you want one final way that Katharine's entire life was saying "fuck you" to the establishment, it started young! Her mother took her to suffrage events, and she never got rid of that attitude of justice. I feel like I have barely scratched the surface of all the ways she was such a badass that I'm turning into a rambling mess instead.

Jessie Matthews (Evergreen, First a Girl, It's Love Again, Gangway)—known as “the dancing divinity”, jessie matthews was a british musical star of stage and screen in the 20s and 30s - if you're an enjoyer of lavish art deco musicals of the likes of fred and ginger, busby berkeley etc, definitely give her movies a try they are delightful! (tantalizingly there were multiple attempts made to pair her and fred together that never came to fruition - gaumont-british tried to get fred for evergreen and mgm wanted jessie for a damsel in distress.) and for the women in tuxedos enjoyers, her 1935 movie first a girl was the first english language remake of viktor und viktoria, famously later remade with julie andrews.

This is round 3 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Katharine Hepburn propaganda:

I'm sure one million people will submit her as an iconic Hollywood star but that iconicness might lead people to forget just how insanely hot she was like she had it ALL she was skilled she was funny she was smart she was beautiful AND she was likely bisexual

The single word I would use to explain Katherine Hepburn's appeal is *range*. In her acting career, that meant covering all the ground between lush period dramas and the comedies she did with Carey Grant and Spencer Tracey. In terms of hotness, it meant an uncanny ability to bring anything from a Dietrich-esque androgyny to some of the best Classic Hollywood Glamour you will ever see.

Katharine hep was so cool. The VIBES, the INDEPENDENCE,,, living life on her own terms.

she just had this.... bearing to her, this power. she could be funny, even silly (like in bringing up baby) but also so regal and elegant. she was nobody's fool and dear GOD that's so hot

Fancam link

She’s not only stunningly gorgeous (those eyes that pierce your soul! a jawline you could cut glass with!) but her delivery and physical presence in roles gives off confidence and authority in such a sexy way (truly the biggest dick energy of Old Hollywood). Her fiery energy in The Philadelphia Story? Unmatched.

God she's. She's so hot y'all. She has the range!!!!! Funny and dramatic and lovely

She IS the transatlantic accent. Classically gorgeous and such a strong personality.

She's literally one of the funniest women to ever live! She goes shot for shot with Cary Grant in Philadelphia Story and we damn well love her for it! She's the most annoying creature to ever live in Bringing Up Baby but she's so insane and funny that we simply cannot help but fall in love with her (and root for her to give Grant an aneurysm!)

i know she's accounted for but i really want to be sure someone has submitted the scene in bringing up baby where she's pretending to be a gangster

youtube

She simply stuns onscreen; you cannot do anything but be captivated by her presence. Also a non-gender-conforming icon and mild tumblr celebrity by virtue of that one picture from The Warrior's Husband (stage play).

Katharine Hepburn was out here casually changing the lives of young butch lesbians with her gender swag! She wore pants even when people said she shouldn’t, she refused to marry or have kids, and she wore menswear in at LEAST one movie!

If I start thinking about her face for too long I will cry she is so so hot. Katherine is so charismatic and charming in everything she appears in - watch her adopt a leopard and fall in love with her. Also she has the biggest dick energy ever (she and her pal Lauren Bacall share that accolade). Also had an incredibly long and varied career from screw ball comedies to serious dramas - she’s a queen of the screen and I adore her.

Someone's got to mention it, but she's won the most Oscars out of any performer and is largely considered one of the greatest actresses ever. She's got an incredible voice, an incredible presence, and she absolutely steals every scene she's in. She was private person and deemed standoffish and unapproachable, but she was also profoundly concerned for people's rights and was an outspoken supporter of abortion access. Finally, the Katharine Hepburn slacks look is just iconic. I mean look at her.

(I hope someone else submits real propaganda but just in case they don't:) Cries. Screams. Wails. The woman who singlehandedly made me realize I was bi. A real "do i want to look like her. be her. or be with her.' crisis, where the answer was all three. Holy shit please all three.

Jessie Matthews:

Star of British 1930s stage and screen, she introduced classic songs by Noel Coward and Rogers and Hart to English audiences, and then played perky heroines, but today it’s her genderswapping role in First A Girl that probably gets most attention.

youtube

#katharine hepburn #jessie matthews #hotvintagepoll #fuck that old woman #ladies 3 #Youtube

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mayasaurusss · 2 months

Note

I want me some yandere adult lottie, with an innocent reader. Do whatever the fu<k you want with it bae

Old ghosts. Contents: mentions of abusive relationships, mentions of violence, horror moments, Yellowjackets coded, light romance, two OCC's, reader is gender neutral but wears a dress at one point, Lottie is as delusional as ever, open ending 350k wors/ about six pages. Author's note: So uhm, I don't think I've met any requirments you had, anon. I tried to do yandere Lottie in this but it really doesn't come across as it and I'm not familiar with the genre, so everything I did prior to this sucked. So I did something more akin to a murder mistery? But since I still wanted to make this yandere coded, I left the story as raw and ugly as I could. In my personal opinion this is very Yellowjackets coded. It isn't a very romantic oneshot nor smutty one, but I hope you will still like it!

It would be an understatement to say you had messed up. You could not even predict where this relationship would lead you.

You had met Lottie months ago, or well, you had come into contact with what you now knew was her 'cult'.

The marketplace had been very busy at that hour of the morning, vendors shouting and people chatting. However, you felt as lonely as ever. After many years, you have been dumped by your boyfriend. Or, he had cheated on you and blamed you for it. It was for the better, really. You were clingy and he had taken his anger out on you on multiple occasions, so at least now you weren't going to be his next punching bag. You had been miserable: not that you really loved him, after all, after the umpteenth hit -love or not-, an animal stops loving its master. But you had never managed to learn to live alone, yet alone care for yourself.

Other than that, you were battling with the understanding that you loved women more than men during your entire life. That realization had come during your relationship with Simon, and he had understood quickly. One night, you were invited to his friend's house. His girlfriend was so beautiful you were jaw slacked and shy with her for the whole night. Simon's friend hadn't noticed, but Simon did. The morning after, you had walked in your office with bruises under your suit, a black eye and a heavy heart. He was so bitter and awful that he had slept with many women the weeks after, and among them -as far as you knew- there was the woman from that night. At least you had dodged two bullets.

So, the woman who sold honey knew perfectly what to do with you. It wasn't her fault, really. People like her see someone that went through the same, and just want to help. She introduced herself as Olivia, a woman the same age as you, and when she saw your healing bruises, she had told you about where she lived. A compound, lost in nature and away from civilization. There, according to her, people lived in harmony with nature and with each other. They learnt to face their inner demons and past trauma under the care of Charlotte Matthews. Their caretaker. Olivia talked about Charlotte like a believer might have talked about their God, with such adoration that it left you breathless. And, a bit skeptical.

You had accepted Olivia's invite. One of Simon's many gifts, other than bruises and breaking your trust, was throwing you out of the house. Besides your friend's generous hospitality, you were basically homeless, and jobless after your boss had fired you just days prior to your break up. So, living at the compound didn't seem like a bad idea. Olivia had assured you that Lottie -that's what she called her- had a special program for whoever wasn't in the right economical situation to live at the compound, but still needed care.

You had started to travel that same afternoon, having packed the last of your belongings and bid farewell to your friend and family. To go to the compound, you had traveled on old streets that unraveled through barren outskirts and lush forests. There was no one else in sight. That made you even more scared than before. How could you just accept a stranger's invite to an isolated place in the mountains? You had truly lost your mind.

But Olivia was so nice with you, so friendly and lovely. She had no problems in telling you what made her arrive at the compound in the first place. Two years ago, when she was 19, her father and mother had fought and in a fit of rage, he had pushed her down the stairs, almost breaking her skull. Ever since then, she had been taken care of by her son, who did not have time to help nor give a fuck about Olivia. So, for a year, she had been alone. That was until Lottie had found her. With the exact same tactic you had been recruited -kidnapped?- she had come to live at the compound and with it, came to peace with her trauma.

Your story wasn't as grim as Olivia's, but you still needed to be taken care of. "That is what Lottie will do" she said, brown eyes on you and a smile that could kill on her lips.

The compound was on the foot of a mountain, surrounded by vegetation and overlooking a lake. When you set foot on the ground, the first thing you heard was a strange melody, a chant in the distance. Olivia had been quick to show you away from it, inside the main building where your belongings such as your phone and wallet had been taken from you. "Well, that's because our phones chain us from nature and healing" she had answered you, after you had asked her why they needed to take your phone at all. Great, so, you are in the middle of nowhere, without your phone close to you, surrounded by strangers and without a clear path back to civilization.

Great, just great. What has gotten into you?

"Wait here, I'll go get Lottie" Olivia said, seating you on a wicker chair in the waiting hall. You had noticed that everyone here wore the same purple outfits. Oh, this is definitely a cult. "Here she is!" you heard behind you, along with the steps of two pairs of feet. Fearing that you might have looked like an insensitive asshole, you stood up, waiting for Lottie to circle to your front.

You had expected her to look like a hippie: an old woman with short white hair, sunglasses indoors, long hoop earrings and who smelled like weed. Instead, you found yourself in front of the most beautiful woman ever. Lottie was tall, quite literally towering over you, her hair was long and black, the same color as her eyes, skin dark coloured. She looked really good for her age, every wrinkle she had was perfect on her skin.

Her velvety, deep and calm voice had greeted you, "Hi, I am Charlotte Matthews. You can call me Lottie. And who might you be?" you answered back with a trembling voice. She smiled at you with such care and love you thought you could combust on the spot. "I will show you around here" she told you, as her hand came to rest on your lower back, guiding you through the place.

The first months at the compound had been... calm. You shouldn't have expected anything more than that, but it felt like a breath of fresh air. You always wore purple -heliotrope- dresses or clothes, woke up at six am and went to sleep at ten pm. Everyday the cycle continued, so much so that you didn't at first notice the... signs, as you were completely immersed in your routine.

Whenever you started to hear chants in the distance, Olivia, who was ever present in your life, would lead you away from them. If you questioned her, she would just say "It's just a special therapy. You will see one day".

Lottie was always with you. Always. At first you didn't pay too much mind to it, thinking that since you were probably a mildly troubled individual, she would feel the need to have her eyes on you more than the others. But Olivia had had it worse, far worse than you, but she wasn't as followed as you were from Lottie. And you were certain others have had it worse than Olivia.

Lottie was always following you: whether that was during the many therapy sessions, the lunch or even your personal alone time in your personal cabin -which she had so graciously given you just three weeks after you became a member- where she would knock at the last hours of the day to have small talk with you. It had become such a nag for you that at one point, you even said it to her, clearly and plainly, "Lottie, look. I understand that I might be... weak, in any way. But I'm fine, I don't always need you".

You wished you hadn't said that, because her eyes had stopped reflecting all light, a dark look in them. "Ah, I see. Very well, I will leave you alone" she went away and didn't talk with you for a few days. All the time though, you felt eyes watching your back.

Everything comes boiling back to right now.

When Lottie had talked with you again it was in the late afternoon. She has just finished one of her communal meetings in the clearing overlooking the lake. She had walked over to you, took your hand and led you where no one could hear. "I want you to meet me this evening, to do something that will build our common trust in each other" she had gestured to a man you hadn't noticed before, prompting him to give you a white flowy dress. "Tonight, after dinner, come to me, here. I want you to wear this" she talked to you, taking your shoulders in her hands.

When the sky became purple, you had gone out, waiting for Lottie. The clearing seats had been moved, now just the yellow signs of the compound's symbol left. Lottie had moved from behind, greeting you with her velvety voice "Hello dear. Are you ready for our therapy?" she said, and her hand came up your face, stroking your cheek. "Uhm... Lottie... What are you doing?". Your cheeks felt hot with blood, voice weavering. You had battled with your small crush for Lottie for a while now, and even if you did find her attachment to you a bit too much, you still liked her. So much.

Lottie just smiled, her other hand rested on your hip before she let you go, walking over the lake's shore. You followed behind her like a dog, small and frail in comparison with the towering grace she was. "Come down here, come" her hands extended to you, helping you down the wood platform to the shore's sands. She gestured towards the dark waters, prompting you to follow her. When you did, she wordlessly placed your body into the lake, the water splashing at your hips. "It's... cold" her smile was enough to fend off the shivering of your body, but what she said next made you rethink her sanity.

"I want you to lower yourself in the water. We will calm your heart as well as our trust in one another" she said, attempting to push you in the water. "No! No, no, no. What if something happens?!" your voice straining over, before she replied calmly "Nothing will happen, because I am here".

And how could you say no to Lottie? So, you started to fall back in the darkness, the cold waters nipping at your skin making your breath shallow. All the while, she held your head and hand, gently guiding you.

There you were, at her mercy. You trusted her with your life and she had to be responsible for it. In her eyes, this was the most pure form of adoration. She adored you and you adored her.

The baptism was over.

When you resurfaced, she had quickly guided you back to land and had dried you with a towel promptly left on the sand. With her hands on your cheeks, then, Lottie had kissed you. So deeply and lovingly it made your heart ache. Her tongue found yours, overpowering you, cutting your breath away.

You were so distracted that you didn't hear the sound of movement behind Lottie. When her lips fell away from yours and you could look away, a shiver went down your spine.

Masks. A group of masked people stood before you. Some depicting bears, some birds, some wolves, some humans. All lined up, looking directly at you. "L-Lottie... what is this?" you didn't know why your first thought was that Lottie must've been behind it, but something screamed at you that this was indeed the case. "My love" she said, "you need to trust me. To let me cherish you. It's what It wants".

You backed away from her, your blood freezing in your veins. Someone, a man, stopped you in your tracks. He trapped your arms into his, uncaring of your trashing. "Let yourself be one with the Wilderness" Lottie said, no light behind her eyes. As if something possessed her. She pulls a knife from behind her, and for a split moment you think that Lottie will kill you, but the blade slashes across her fingertip. She draws a symbol on your forehead with her blood, trickles of it streaming down on your eyes.

"We hear the Wilderness and the Wilderness hears us" the chants rise in the air, filling the empty dark sky. Lottie's voice is louder than everyone else, and finally the voices die down, as hers is the last one still chanting. When she is done, her body turns to yours, and she utters a single word.

"Run".

You don't need to be told twice. You sprint in the forest, leaving wet trails behind you. The masked people follow you, searching, predicting where you will go, if you will hide. Lottie is the last one to join the hunt, her white dress engulfed by the forest's darkness.

It seems like the forest itself has a mind, trying to prevent you from running further away. Branches claw as your skin and dress, thorns planting in your flesh, wind blowing so you can't understand if the sounds you hear are the wind or howls.

You run, you run and run, until every bone of your body, every organ and every drop of blood screams at you to stop. And just as you were about to fall down in exhaustion, you see something in the dark. A house, one that looks like it had been left to time's mercy.

The walls are dirty and rotten, the white plaster almost unrecognizable under years of dirt. Your sixth sense tells you to get away, to search for another place, but there isn't anything else that could shelter you.

The air inside smells of old, wilted matter. It makes your stomach close and you try not to vomit, pinching your nose while you explore the rest of the house, searching for a hiding place until morning. Your plan was to hide and travel down to the nearest town, then, telling the authorities that up in the mountains, a cult was trying to sacrifice people to a made up entity. You wanted to hope that by doing so, you would help others to not follow your steps.

From the hall, you turned left towards the kitchen. It was empty, except for a table with scattered documents on it. Photos of an old soccer team, articles about the disappearance of a plane in the wilds of Canada, a symbol... The same one of the compounds. Bit by bit, you started to understand. In between the documents, some by psychologists and others by articles, you found a small diary. It was a brown leather diary, expensive from the looks of it. The pages were yellow and some started to rot away, but you could still make up the words written on them. The words were written with a tremulous hand: it seemed like whoever was the author, they must have written quickly, in fear of being found out.

'12th January, 1998. I hate it here. It's cold in the winter, and it makes me remember that place. I try to help the other patients, but the nurses forbid me from doing it. They told me to stop talking to It, and told me it isn't real. I know they are lying. It must be real, or all we did was for nothing. All the hurt was for nothing. It can't be. I know it's real. It hears me, I hear it'.

Something about this made you shiver. Could It be whatever Lottie was chanting to earlier? 1998... the plane crash happened in 1996; it couldn't be a coincidence. You take the diary and a couple of documents in your hand, before continuing to explore. Nothing seems out of the ordinary: the living room, the bathroom, the bedroom; everything is neatly placed. You spot a dark flight of stairs at the very back of the house. It doesn't look inviting at all, and you're almost ready to leave, when you hear something outside. Sounds of steps circling the house. The hair of your back rises up and every fear you had of the stairs is thrown out of the window.

As quietly as possible, you reach the second floor, listening for the sounds. The floor is far darker than the first one: so much so that you can't see anything. You wait a minute for your eyes to get used to the dark and then continue walking down the hall, towards what you assume is a bedroom. Just before you reach it, you hit a metal tube: it's a ladder, red and rusted and it leads you to the attic. You are about to get past it when you hear the front door of the house open: someone is inside.

Quickly you head up the ladder and in the dark attic. It's not all dark you realize, some lights shine in the middle of the room, circling...

An idol. An old idol made of old bones and burnt hay. The idol was planted in the wooden floor, its arms branches extending outwards, bent up as if it was deep in ecstasy. Its torso was made out with a large ribcage, so you suspected it to be of non-human origin; inside the organs were replaced with hay and fresh grass. Lifeless eyes stared back at you, antlers protruding from the back of the skull.

You feel someone's arms circle your stomach, placing their nose in the crook of your neck. "I knew you'd come here" her voice said, "It told me". Lottie holds you tight against herself, mumbling incoherently on your skin. "L-let go of me you witch!" you try to shove her away, propting Lottie to just let go of you: as such, you fall in the candle circle, spilled wax burning at your skin.

Lottie watches you with adoration and hunger. Upon your fall into the circle, her eyes lit up. She raises her arms up in the air -much like the idol itself- and towards you, in some sort of divine bliss. "Yes! Yes! It- It choose you!" she says out loud, "I'm so glad it was you!".

You trembled in both fear and anger, "How did- How did you know I was here?" you say, looking up at Lottie, shrouded by the darkness of the room. "It told me, of course" she says with an uncanny smile.

You're shocked by this new side of Lottie, and for a moment you forget what she had done to you. "You are crazy Lottie! You tried to kill me!" her eyes widen at your accusations, "Kill you? No, no, I didn't try to kill you... I just wanted to...". Your anger makes you uncaring of Lottie's emotions, so you lash out at her "Just wanted to what, Lottie?! Sacrifice me to your creepy god-thing?!".

It's like she's torn between the illusion of her god and the reality that she had scared you. "I thought- I thought you were going to kill me! I thought what we had for all these months was for nothing!", what she does next makes your skin crawl. She watches between you and the idol behind, her eyes filled with tears. "No I wan- I needed to know that It accepts you" she said, coming closer to your body.

Suddenly Lottie grabs your wrists with force, like she sees you but her ears are filled with whispers from old ghosts and gods. "And now, I know it does!" she almost looks delirious. Lottie shakes your wrists in her hands and cries; the black abyss of her eyes staring back at yours.

"Can't you understand? This is It's love, my love" you try to move from her grasp, but even in her old age, Lottie still proves to be as strong as she once was. "Y-You were hunted, weak, and you lived! You lived! And now It recognizes you as part of Itself" a connection is made in your brain.

Shivers run down your body, at the realization that either you aren't alone in this old attic, or you are alone with a roman and her ghosts. Either is terrifying. "What... what is It, Lottie?" but it's far too late to run from Lottie or the ghosts in her head. You are sure that either will haunt you anyway, if you manage to escape that is. She pauses, contemplating your words. "It..." she tries to put a name, a significance to whatever this It is, but she decides against it, instead opting to close her arms on you, one caging your body on hers and the other cradling the back of your head.

Her voice is lifeless while it whispers in your ear "It doesn't matter. You are one of us now". That last phrase confuses you, "I have... I have been here for months now. I was always one of you, no?" she shakes her head, cranes her neck to look down on you.

"No, one of us".

#yellowjackets #yellowjackets x reader #yellowjackets x you #yellowjackets fic #lottie matthews x reader #lottie matthews x you

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crimson-kisses · 8 months

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Ok umm. Yandere god Canada, America, Russia, Austria, Germany, and France with a nature Goddess reader.

🤡💧anon ~

Technically, I have already done this ask in a way so this will only contain some drabbles!! Hope you liked it. Austria is a new one, tho!

Warning: Contains usual yandere themes, toxic relationships and the like.

Other works related to the au [post 1 || post 2 || post 3 || post 4 || post 5 || post 6]

Tangled vines

Canada || Matthew Williams 🇨🇦

Sitting atop a grassy hill, surrounded by vibrant blooming flowers, Matthew watches you with an admiring gaze. The calmness you give off brings a sense of peace to his soul, and he could spend hours simply observing your serene demeanor.

However, beneath your calm exterior, a storm rages within. Containing your seething fury, you make a decision not to show Matthew the extent of your anger. He had held you captive, subjecting you to his relentless beasts—creatures both mortal and immortal, magical and fierce.

His mighty wolves encircle you, seeking solace and warmth, as if yearning for a mother's touch. But you are far from their mother, yet you dare not push them away, lest you lose half of your body.

While your injuries may heal, the pain would prove burdensome, and that is the last thing you desire.

Matthew has succeeded in breaking your spirit through fear, ensuring your submission to his will. Meanwhile, delicate creatures flutter around you, drawn to the beauty of the blossoming flowers, as if inviting them into an embrace.

Sitting on the hill, you keenly sense Matthew's loving gaze upon you, his watchful eyes drinking in every detail of your presence.

"Your presence brings me a tranquility I haven't felt in eons,"

He murmurs, walking closer to where you sit, his hands clasped behind his back. He stalks towards you, paying no mind to the flowers crushed under his boots as he positions himself besides you. In his outstretched palm, a delicate butterfly finds solace.

His eyes, a shade of soothing lavender, gaze at you with a glint of delight. He reaches out, intertwining his fingers with yours, binding them tightly together. The fluttering creatures find respite around both of you, creating a delicate barrier.

You manage to suppress a shudder at his words, a bitter irony lingering in your mind. For he has brought you nothing but misfortune after misfortune. Trapped in this place, guarded by unfathomable creatures, you find yourself drained and wearied. His clinginess, has only soured over time, leaving you with a distaste that grows stronger with each passing moment.

At the very least, he hasn’t taken you far away from your domain.

America || Alfred F Jones 🇺🇸

The palace of the divine king stood in all its splendor, a spectacular sight of celestial marble adorned with magnificent statues. Pearls of various kinds adorned every corner, while golden rings encircled the ceilings, creating an ambiance fit for the heavens.

Yet, for you, it was a personal hell.

Alfred had positioned you on his lap, gripping you tightly as he attended to his duties and other matters, leaving you unable to attend to your own responsibilities. Your connection to your own domain felt distant, slipping through your fingers like sand.

There was no solace to be found within these walls.

But of course, Alfred was busy with showcasing you, parading you around, while purposely disregarding your legitimate concerns. It often felt as if he intentionally sought to provoke you, to ignite his wrath within you.

Perhaps that was exactly what he desired.

There is no piece or a leaf of your domain to be found near his castle, his territory, his domain, because his insufferable pride wouldn’t let that happen anytime soon. Instead, he to claim you as his, not as an another immortal being, but his wife, his woman, his lover. That’s the only identity you ought to have in his eyes.

Except for the garden, a sprawling expanse adorned with lush nature, you were forbidden to enter without his presence by your side. He would lead you beneath the thick foliage of the trees, that’s where he pleased you as he so wished, over and over again, until he was satisfied. The flowers bloomed with an ardent passion, glistening with dewdrops that adorned the garden like delicate jewels. It was a place solely dedicated to your pleasure, a sanctuary of sensory delights.

As if he was saying without telling, that even in this sanctuary you cannot have solace or peace without him by your side.

His hands were now inching towards your thighs, the dress slipping away smooth as milk as goosebumps raised on your skin, he stared at you with a lustful gaze, sitting between your naked thighs.

"It’s always a pleasure to be on my knees for you".

Russia || Ivan Brangisky 🇷🇺

He was more than aware that the frigidness of his domain did not suit you well and often clashed with the climate of your domain. Frost clung to your delicate skin, causing you to tremble ever so slightly in the face of the biting cold breeze.

He inhaled softly through his nose, a smile slowly spreading across his lips as he imagined you snugly wrapped in his coat, finding warmth and comfort within its embrace.

Sadly, you had politely refused.

Ivan set a steaming bowl of hot soup before you, urging you to partake as he settled into a seat across from you. His gaze, filled with intensity, roamed freely over your form, appreciating your beauty. You were indeed a stunning woman, a captivating sight that was truly a feast for the eyes.

He held a special fondness for the moments when you brought life and beauty to his desolate domain, watching nature bloom in all its loveliness and delight. It was a sight that touched his heart and filled him with a rare warmth, a feeling he rarely experienced within his own realm and in his life as a whole.

And it was precisely because of this profound connection that he felt compelled to carry out what he was about to do.

With deep violet eyes sparkling with delight and a hint of amusement, he watched as a vibrant cluster of sunflowers flourished around his house. Your cheerful laughter and radiant smile tugged at his heartstrings, bringing warmth to the depths of his being.

You were undeniably enchanting, blissfully unaware of the healing power you possessed. In your presence, the scars that tore at his heart and the wars that ravaged his immortal soul seemed to fade away.

It was you, and only you, who had the ability to mend the shattered pieces and bring solace to his troubled existence.

Austria || Roderick Edelstein 🇦🇹

Glowing bluebells sway delicately from fragile stems, emitting a soft, ethereal glow. As you run your fingers tenderly across their petals, a melodic serenade reminiscent of piano keys fills the air. With a sigh, you become aware that you are under the watchful scrutiny of keen plum-colored eyes.

You have long stopped caring about such things, focusing on the peaceful arrangements of nature around you, swaying with their own set of tunes which was such a joy to hear.

Emerging from his hiding place, Roderick would reprimand you about the seemingly chaotic music that resonates in the surroundings. Swiftly taking control of the situation, and in response to his commands, the flowers obediently bloom and unfurl themselves once more. The melodies that fill the air follow his guidance, harmonizing in a more orderly manner.

At the very least, you would be near your domain and Roderick, as much as judgmental he is about some things, whether it be how your too much of a carefree woman or being agitated by your chaotic domain, he had no qualms about separating you from your home.

You supposed you will take what you get, as he exclaims that it is now time for dinner and grabs you inside his mansion by gently placing a hand on your waist and demanding you to clean yourself up.

It wasn’t all that bad, you supposed with an exasperated look directed towards him and go ahead, to wash yourself up for dinner.

Germany || Ludwig Beilschmidt 🇩🇪

You swim around the extravagantly colorful reefs with a burst of speed as dozen fishes follow your trail. Playfully, you swirl around and watch as they circle around you, filling your heart with warmth unlike the cold water which was your home.

Your tail, looked like a part of the nature itself, scales glistening with shades of green, mimicking hues of lush moss that clung to ancient stones, delicate tendrils of seaweed and aquatic flora intertwined with the moss-like scales.

It shimmered vibrantly in the ocean, as you glided through the vibrant reefs, leaving a trail of luminous pearls in their wake, so you could be easily tracked by the Deity of the twelve Oceans.

You feel the sudden change of current in the ocean, as he swims near you skillfully, his powerful tail a deep shade of forest green, with a golden hue.

The water lilies swim above you, blooming in your presence as they gently make way for the sunlight to fall upon you both. Following your and Ludwig's command with perfect harmony.

"You have been wandering quite a lot, I can’t help but be worried about you. I suppose the pearls were a good idea after all".

Solemnly you nod, as the former giddiness you shared with the fishes fades away into an empty space in your chest. Ludwig takes your hand and together you both take a dive, deeper into the ocean.

The pearls would make a fine jewelry for a more fortunate woman someday, you think, as Ludwig can’t help but collect few in with his hands.

France || Francis Bonnefoy 🇫🇷

A necklace adorned with a delicate array of ethereal feathers, gracefully embraced your neck. In the mirror's reflection, you could see the reflection of Francis, dreamy expression adorning his face, captivated by your appearance.

You swiftly avert your gaze from his, he gently takes a hold of your hand, pressing a series of tender kisses upon the top of your knuckles, his affectionate gestures ascending to graze your neck.

You don’t bother saying anything, not that he would listen to what do you have to say. Staying still, as he presses kisses across your collarbone, his hands inching towards the sides of your bosom.

In your divine beauty, you stood as a celestial masterpiece, crafted from stardust that cascaded across the vast expanse of the universe. With a single glance, you effortlessly ensnared his heart, drawing him into a realm of enchantment from which he could never escape. Your allure was irresistible and mesmerizing, leaving him forever spellbound by your radiant presence.

His adoration for you knew no bounds. He was madly in love with every curves of your body, his hands tenderly skimmed through the strands of your hair, cherishing each delicate strand. A shudder comes through you as he pushes your dress down, and then presses a passionate kiss on your lips, hands grabbing whatever they could find.

You were the nature's most precious treasure, indeed.

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asgoodeasgold · 20 days

Text

The cravat & lush hair Matthew Goode edition.

Matthew's l9ng graceful neck means he wears cravats beautifully. Add to that these gorgeous locks and brilliant acting for perfection.

I really like all these characters - Martin (sweet and hard done by), Colley (such a gent and kind-hearted), even Wickham (loveable rogue) but Doc Waller the slave owner (bottom right) is the most horrid of Matthew's baddies - he has no redeeming feature whatsoever, so don't be fooled by the goode looks!

📷 The Colour Room (2021), Roots (2016), Copying Beethoven (2006), Death Comes to Pemberley (2013) my edits

#matthew goode #matthewgoode #george wickham #death comes to pemberley #colley shorter #the colour room #roots #copying beethoven #period drama #cravat

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gxldenlush · 16 days

Text

spiritually yours || m.s

pairing:highschool!matt x ghost!fem!oc

summary:Matt is in love with a ghost.

warnings: mentions of death, very very sad (i cried hard), blood & injuries (stab wound), lmk if I missed anything

a/n: thought of this at 2am & cried writing it

word count: 4.9k

☙༻✽༺❧

Matt has a secret. He sees ghosts. Well, one ghost, specifically. He’s grown completely infatuated with her, if you can believe it.

Adelaide died a very long time ago. 1899 to be precise. She has been trapped in this house since her death, she has no idea why. She found out that Matt could see her when the boy was only eleven years old. Now, the eighteen year old is utterly obsessed with the 125 year old spirit.

Adelaide first started speaking to Matt through dreams and thoughts, on his eleventh birthday, when he was about to fall asleep, he heard “Happy birthday, sweet child”, he opened his eyes and there she was. In a gorgeous Victorian style dress, a light blue that made her eyes stand out beautifully. He wasn’t even scared, he felt oddly calm by this new presence. She gave him this sense of comfort that he’d never felt before.

It didn’t take long for Matt to fully understand that Adelaide was a ghost. Although she hates that word, she doesn’t know what to be called, but she knows that “ghost” isn’t on the list.

Which brings us to today. Matt is sat up in bed, way past the usual time he goes to bed, his nose buried inside a book he found in the attic a few days ago when Adelaide enters the room.

“Hey, you’re earlier than usual” He smiles as he closes the book and puts it in his lap.

“I was tired of waiting” The girl shrugs as she sits on the edge of his bed. “What are you reading?”

“Oh, I found it up in the attic when we were having that clear out..”

“May I?” she holds her hand out for him to pass her the book. she opens the cover and reads the writing. her face softens. “This was mine…”

“It was? how did-“

“That’s my handwriting in here, my name, all of it… I remember this book, I read it religiously”

Matt changes the subject slightly. “Can I ask you a question?.”

“Of course” she places the book down next to her on the bed gently.

“How old were you when you… died?”

“I was nineteen”

His eyebrows raised, he wasn't expecting her to be that young.

"So young," he mumbled to himself. after a moment of silence, she changed the subject.

“Don’t you have a paper for your history class due to be finished soon?”

Matt looks over at the open notebook and laptop sitting on his desk waiting for him to start his assignment. “Yeah.. right. I forgot”

“How about I help you… I’ve seen plenty of history. What is it about?”

Matt sighs as he drags himself off his bed and towards his desk, he sits down in front of it and switches his laptop on.

“I have to write about a previous owner of my house… Everyone is going to have war stories but nobody lived in this house before us since like 1930… I’ve contacted people but they haven’t replied…”

Adelaide sits down on the edge of the desk. “Isn’t there anybody else that you could speak to?” That question sparks an idea.

“Hey, what about you? I mean you said that your family was the first people to own this place… could I write about you?”

“Me? What would you even write about me?”

Matt looks nervous to ask his next question.

“Could I… talk about… how you died maybe?”

“You want to know how I died?”

“Please..? If you don’t want it in my assignment that’s totally understandable but… I do want to know.��

“I’m afraid to tell you…” The spirit speaks with a large amount of uncertainty in her voice.

“Why?”

Adelaide sighs deep, seemingly troubled by the thought of telling Matt of her death.

“I believe that you can still see it… once you learn of a spirits story, of their death, you see the cause. Almost like an illusion… Do you understand that?”

He immediately tensed up, his stomach twisting into painful knots. He didn’t want to see whatever horrific scene it was. He didn’t want to see Adelaide dead, but he also wanted to know more.

He shut his eyes, silently consenting to it.

“So if you tell me how you died, I’d be able to see it?”

“Yes. and I don’t want you to see me like that…”

“Please? It won’t change how I feel about you.. What if you’re like super vague and I fill in the gaps?”

“But you’ll see me like it forever…”

He let out a shaky breath, trying to stay calm. Matt knew what he was about to see would forever be ingrained into his memory.

"I.... I don't care," he replied through clenched teeth.

Adelaide sighs, giving in. “Alright…”

Matt perks up in his seat, bracing himself ready to hear the story.

“When I was nineteen, I fell ill. Terribly ill. My sister took care of me, I slowly grew… they said that I grew insane but I don’t believe that. I believe it’s that word you’ve mentioned before.. when you’re very very sad…”

“Depressed?” Matt questions, he feels a pang in his chest when he hears her reply

“Yes, depressed. I believe that was what happened to me.”

“Did you die from your illness?”

“No…” Another hit to his heart.

“Then… How?”

Adelaide takes a long pause, preparing herself for retelling this story.

“My mother found me, in my washroom… I had stolen a knife from my dinner-“

Before she can continue, Matt feels a chill through his body, a single word is forced into his mind. “lies”.

“That’s not true is it? You didn’t-”

“I don’t remember my death, I remember walking to the washroom but that’s all.. Everybody said that I did it myself.”

He feels the same shiver and the same word pushes into his mind. Matt realises that he can’t see any difference in Adelaide’s appearance he looked up at her in pure confusion, his eyebrows furrowed.

"I don’t see anything," he mumbled, looking around the room. "I-I thought I would've seen something by now..."

“It’s talking to you isn’t it?”

“What is?”

“The house… It remembers every core event that occurred in its walls. Especially the tragedies, everything. It’s telling you different isn’t it?”

“Y-yes.. it is- how is that possible?”

“I haven’t a clue… But it’s fascinating isn’t it?”

Matt let’s out a huff of a laugh “You love that word.. fascinating.. You say it a lot”

“You show me a lot of fascinating things…”

“How does the house remember your death, Adelaide?”

“It tells me that I was wrongly medicated. My sister was the one who took charge of my medication. The house believes that she lethalised my doses in order to keep me ill. Until I realised that I could communicate with this house, I thought that I had used that knife on myself, the house tells me that it was my sister, to keep the blame far away from her…”

Matt’s eyes widened at her words. He never imagined that the cause, the reason she... did it.... was because of her disease.

But when the story changed to the truth, he really didn’t expect to hear that her own sister was the cause behind it all. He felt a wave of anger wash over him.

"Wait... Are you saying your own sister.... made you go insane...?-“

“She apparently lethalised my medicine dosage, yes. I had lost consciousness due to exhaustion and she came into my bedroom, apparently she moved me into the washroom and set my body to make it seem as though I had-” She sighs, not wanting to give more detail. She has already given enough.

“How old was your sister when she did this?”

“Twenty-three, she still lived with us, which was unnatural at the time. All women are usually married off by 20 at the oldest.”

“Were you… married off?”

“No, but I had a suitor prepared for me… My future was just at my reach… He was nice, kind…”

“Did you like him?”

The girl shrugs “I suppose, I wouldn’t have married him on my own accord, of course. Its what my father wanted, so…”

Matt was shocked at this. “So your dad was just going to marry you off to some random guy that you never loved?”

Adelaide cant help but laugh softly at his surprised expression.

“This happened to every woman back when I was alive, Matt”

Matt didn’t care about the “other women”. He was concerned about Adelaide, the fact that her already short-lived life wasn’t how she wanted it to play out. The fact that she never had a say in her own happiness infuriated him, and now she never will.

“My sister didn’t obtain a suitor. She had a few but they always rejected a marriage offer, I never knew why. My sister was beautiful.” Adelaide clears her throat to stop a tear from forming in her eye. “Why don’t you start writing it down?” She turns his focus back onto his assignment.

As Matt begins to write notes, he decides to turn them into a full essay later. He wants his facts first. But just as Adelaide is spelling out her sisters name to him, the pen flies from his hand and hits the wall on the other side of him, the paper soon following.

“Holy shit!”

“Are you alright?” He nods at Adelaide’s concern. “She doesn’t like when people tell that story…”

“Imagine that…” Matt mutters in a sarcastic tone. “Wait, you still talk with her?”

“She’s still here. Though she died much older.”

He let out a shaky breath as he heard Adelaide’s words.

“S-She’s still here?” He repeated, his voice as soft as a whisper. He felt a rush of anxiety wash over him, he could feel the hair on the nape of his neck stand up, chills run down his spine. He was suddenly very aware of where he was, and the possibility of Adelaide’s sisters presence.

“I don’t allow her to be seen by you.”

“yeah I’d rather not- How do you ‘not allow her’?”

“I protect you here, Matt. And your family.”

His heart skips a beat when he hears Adelaide mention that she protects him and his family. He feels a mix of gratitude and relief fill him, he was grateful that she was looking out for him, but he was also afraid of what she’s protecting him from.

“How do you… protect me? and why?”

“The house has made me believe that it is because I was the first to die within it’s walls, I somehow have the power to protect you. As for why… I protect you because I have never felt this way for a man.”

Matt could feel his heart flutter as her words hit him, they reached into his chest and wrapped around his heart in a protective hug. Adelaide cares for him, more than anybody else, and she had the power to protect him. He gently took one of her hands, an action he only learnt was possible a few months ago, and brought it to his chest holding her against his heart.

“I always forget that you can do this” She smiles down at her hand in his.

“You really care that much about me?”

“I said earlier that I wouldn’t have married my suitor from my life if I had the choice… If I ever did have a choice for marriage… it would’ve been a man like you.”

Matt couldn’t believe his ears. She would’ve chosen him. He was speechless for a moment. He doesn’t want to move, breathe, he was afraid that he was in a dream and that one wrong move would wake him up. “You would’ve chosen me?”

Adelaide doesn’t even have time to answer before Matt sees the blood. It’s seeping through Adelaide’s dress, right above her heart.

“Adelaide…”

“What is it?” Her eyes grew a size or two in worry.

“I didn’t realise but… I see it. The blood. Is that where she-”

“No” The girl begins to panic. “No no no no. Y-You can see this?”

He nods slowly, his eyes fixed on the deep red that contrasts the innocent blue of her dress. “Yes… Its right there”

“That… is the injury from my death, I-I don’t want you to see this… Y-You won’t love me if you see this.” Matt’s heart aches at her words. He shook his head fast , his voice filled with conviction.

“No…No, that’s not true, seeing this doesn’t change how I feel about you, I love you no matter what.”

“But I-” Adelaide cuts herself off with a sharp gasp when her dress changes before their eyes. The fabric loosing its beautiful colour, and opening around Adelaide’s wound, showcasing where the knife pierced her skin.

Matt was stunned as he watched her dress change, the fabric shifting and opening up. He could see the wound in her chest now, clear as day. He felt a wave of different emotions wash over him. sadness for the pain that Adelaide endured, anger that this was something she had to go through. He was speechless again for a moment, his eyes locked onto her body, taking in the sight in front of him.

After a few seconds, he finally spoke up, his voice soft yet filled with compassion.

"I... I can see it..."

Tears fill the poor girls eyes as her dress opens the last little bit, fully revealing the cut that killed her. Matt’s heart ached as he saw the tears fill her eyes, the last of the dress disappearing around the wound, revealing the fatal cut on her body. He couldn't believe what he was seeing. The love of his life, the person he just admitted he loved, was killed by that cut. He felt a wave of sadness wash over him, his eyes glued to the sight in front of him. He was unable to speak for a few moments, his mind working overtime trying to process what he was seeing.

Adelaide doesn’t take the silence well. She doesn’t give him time to speak, she stands up and rushes out of the room. His heart sank as she stood up and ran away from him, disappearing as she left his room. He was torn between wanting to go after her and wanting to respect her need for space. Matt knew that chasing after her when she was upset is not a good idea. He sat there at his desk, his heart heavy, his mind full of questions. He let out a deep sigh, silently hoping that she would be okay.

Hours passed but Adelaide were nowhere to be seen. He couldn't sleep. His mind was full of thoughts, worries about her. He tossed and turned in his bed, trying to will himself to fall asleep, but it was futile. He lay there for what felt like an eternity when suddenly, he heard a faint creak from the door. he sat up quickly, his eyes scanning the darkness. He searched every square inch of his dark bedroom, but Adelaide was nowhere to be found.

He lay back down and eventually falls asleep, only to be awoken again by a nightmare. He woke up with a gasp, his heart racing from the nightmare he had. His body was tense, beads of sweat trickling down his forehead. He was about to sit up when he suddenly felt a gentle touch on his hair. His heart skipped a beat as he realized what was happening.

He couldn’t see Adelaide, but he could feel her presence. He could feel her hand gently stroking his hair, soothing him. He knows that she is ensuring that he doesn’t see her because of what he will also see when she makes herself visible to him. It was her way of protecting him from seeing the injury that took her life. He felt a mix of emotions. it was comforting to know that [FNAME] was there, that she cared enough to soothe him after his nightmare, but he also felt a pang of sadness knowing that he couldn’t see her.

After a few soothing yet saddening moments, Matt hears a soft whisper.

“I love you too much to allow you to see me this way.”

He lay there, listening to the sound of her whisper, his heart rate slowly returning to normal. He wanted to say something, to respond to her declaration of love, but he couldn’t find the words. He reached out tentatively, searching for her hand in the dark, wanting to feel her touch once more.

“Matt… don’t” She warns in a whisper, they both know that as soon as he touches her, she will be seen by him. He refuses to let go, once he’s found her hand, he traces his thumb over her knuckles as she becomes more visible to him in the soft glow of the moon through his window.

Matt sits up in his bed, tracing every feature of her face with gentle eyes.

“You don’t love me like this, do you?”

Matt was taken aback by her question. How could she believe that he no longer loved her? He shook his head quickly, his voice gentle and hurt that she would believe such a lie. “I do love you. More than anything, please don’t ever doubt that.”

“But what about my injury? Nobody is beautiful like this.”

Matt couldn’t believe his ears, He sits up in his bed, leaning close to Adelaide. “That doesn’t change how I see you. You’re still the most beautiful person to me, inside and out. Nothing could change that. Nothing.” He rests his forehead against hers gently, just living in this moment as he wants to forever. He closed his eyes briefly, as if trying to memorize every detail of the moment, before he spoke in a soft and tender whisper.

"I love you... I don’t care what you look like, I don't care about the wound. I love you, all of you."

Matt does something brave, something he’s never done before, he musters up the courage to lean even closer, bringing his lips to meet hers. It was a soft and tentative kiss, filled with nothing but love. He pulled away briefly, his eyes lock with hers as he spoke.

“I’ve wanted to do that for a long time…”

This brings a laugh from Adelaide “How do you imagine how I feel, it’s been a hundred and twenty five years for me”

Matt joins in on the laughter, it is cut short with confusion when Matt realises something. Her wound is disappearing, his eyes widen in surprise and confusion.

“It’s… disappearing.”

“What is?”

He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. bits and pieces of her injuries were vanishing before his eyes. He reached out and touched the area where the injury used to be, his fingers gently brushing against her skin. He looked up at her, a mixture of surprise and curiosity in his eyes. “how is this happening..?”

Matt lightly traces his fingertips along the skin where the wound used to be. Adelaide looks down and sees no blood. “I-It’s gone.”

His fingertips gently traced the area where the fatal cut used to be on her chest. He was in disbelief as he saw that her injury had vanished. He then realises that her dress was mended perfectly, as if the injuries had never been there in the first place. He shook his head in bewilderment, his voice filled with awe as he spoke. “I don’t understand.. it’s gone... completely Gone..”

“I-I don’t know what t-this means” Adelaide stammers, completely confused.

He couldn’t say for sure what this new development meant. all he knew is that seeing her injuries disappearing right before his eyes was a miracle.

he shook his head, feeling a surge of hope rise within him.

"Maybe this means something... maybe..." he trailed off, unsure of what to make of this strange occurrence. He stops his sentence when he feels her hand become lighter in his, he looks down and sees something that tears his heart from his chest.

“Adelaide… your hand…” When she looks down, she sees her hand starting to fade away, she’s disappearing.

“No.. No I don’t want to go yet.”

“You’re.. you’re leaving me, aren’t you?” Matt’s eyes flood with tears.

She’s passing over.

He can’t stop it.

“Hey, it’s okay” Matt speaks, his throat burning as he attempts to keep his tear at bay. He refuses to let her see him like that. He will stay strong for her. “You can finally be happy.”

“But I am happy with you.”

“Adelaide, you can finally sleep… you can see your mom again”

“I-I do miss my mother…”

Matt’s heart aches as he hears her broken words. She hasn’t seen her mother in over 100 years. “You can be free to do whatever you want now, nothing can hold you back” He forces a smile.

Adelaide cant hold her tears any longer, she lets out a choked sob. “I don’t want to be without you.” Matt can sense the pain in her words. He stroked her hair gently and pulled her closer as he spoke in a gentle voice. “Hey, that’s okay, I’ll always remember you alright? You’ll always be in my mind and my heart.”

After a long tight hug that slowly becomes lighter and lighter, Adelaide finally gives in.

“Thank you for every moment, Matt”

His entire body aches with emotion. He looks into her eyes. “I will never forget our moments, Adelaide, you’ll always be the love of my life.”

“Don’t forget to write about me” Adelaide lets out a soft chuckle as she reminds him to write about her in his history presentation.

“I will write a million books about you, Adelaide you can be my ghostly muse” He smiles at his half-joke. He really will write about her. Every book, every school assignment, every word with be somehow tied to Adelaide

“I adore the sound of that.” She smiles through her tears.

Matt’s heart aches as he sees her attempt to smile. He couldn’t bear to see her this way. He gently wipes away her tears with his thumbs, he keeps his hands cupped to her cheeks, savouring the contact while he still can. His gaze filled with love and loss.

“Maybe one day we will be alive at the same time.”

“In the next life. I’ll find you.”

“Do you promise?” Her voice breaks as her eyes beg for his promise.

“I promise.”

They sit in silence as Adelaide slowly fades away.

“I love you”

“I adore you”

They kiss, once more to remember each other, they wish that they could stay in that moment forever. But alas, when Matt opens his eyes, the love of his life is nowhere to be seen. She has finally moved on, she will be at peace. Reunited with her mother. Free to be herself. Matt closed his eyes again, a mix of sadness and contentment coursing through him. He whispers into the dark of his bedroom, hoping that wherever Adelaide is, she can still hear him.

“I will always love you.”

☙༻✽༺❧

The next week was hard for Matt, he can’t go an hour of the day without thinking of his ghostly love. It can come to the time for him to read out his history assignment to his class. He wrote about her, just like he’d promised. He makes his way to the front of the class, preparing for the laughter as he is bound to burst into tears at the first sentence.

That is until his headmaster walks into the class, interrupting him. Matt silently thanks the man for postponing his assignment from being read, although it is something that Adelaide had wanted.

“Excuse me, Mr Sturniolo, I’m just here to introduce our new student. This is Addie. She has joined us from… where is it you’re from again?”

The new student comes to view, Matt cannot believe his eyes when he sees this girl. Her captivating eyes remind Matt of her. She’s wearing her favourite colour. She looks just like Adelaide.

“Oh, I’m from… all over.”

The girl takes a seat at the desk next to Matts. He is told to begin reading his assignment. He doesn’t feel afraid to read it anymore. He feels comforted, his eyes drawn to the girl sat next to his empty chair. He reads his assignment perfectly, he does get choked up when he speaks of Adelaide’s injury that caused her death. He remembers seeing the stab wound that she thought for so long was her doing. But when he looks up at this strangely familiar girl, his sadness and slight anger dissipates.

After his class has ended, he feels a tap on his shoulder, when he looks up at this girl, he sees her at a closer view. The resemblance is uncanny.

“What’s your name?”

“I-I’m Matt”

“I like that name… Sorry, I know this is weird but I just feel like I know you.” He doesn’t find it weird at all. Matt couldn’t help but feel a pang of emotion as he hears those words. The familiarity in her voice and words striking a chord in him.

“That’s not weird. You remind me of someone too.”

“Is she pretty?” The girl jokes with a smile.

He chuckled softly at the light-hearted comment. He shook his head slightly, his voice growing softer. “She isn’t just pretty, she is like nobody else. She’s the most beautiful girl in the world. She had this warmth about her, just one look from her would make you forget everything else in the world… she is- well, she was- perfect.” Matts eyes fill with tears when he refers to Adelaide in the past tense.

“Was? Oh, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay, it just still stings a little.”

Addie decides to change the subject, to avoid making him more upset, little does she know she will speak of the same girl.

“Hey, that presentation you did in there, from the eighteen-hundreds? That was some intense shit… So she used to live in your house all those years ago?”

He nodded with a small smile, honestly he wants to talk about her to this girl. To Matt, it feels like he is talking to Adelaide herself, telling her how… fascinating she was. God, she loved to use that word.

“Yeah, she died a hundred and twenty-five years ago…” He changes his story slightly so that this girls doesn’t think he’s crazy. “People say that her ghos- her spirit stayed for years and years after. She always thought that she had killed herself, because she didnt remember her death because she was so sick, but really it was her sister. She was only nineteen when she died, all she wanted from her life was to live how she wanted and to fall in love. Apparently she did, but with someone who was alive, they fell in love and when she realised that he loved her no mater what, she finally moved on. After over a hundred years…” Matt blinks away tears.

“Wow, thats fascinating.” His eyes grow wider when she says that.

“Did you just say fascinating?”

“Yeah, I love that word. I’m not sure why, just always use it.”

Matt’s gaze softens. “It really is a great word… Adelaide really was fascinating, she still continues to fascinate me, and everyone who hears about her…”

Addie smiles softly, seeing the clear appeal that he has with this spirit. “Why don’t you tell me more about her? I like to be fascinated” She laughs.

“Okay…” They start to walk down the hallway towards the exit doors, they walked home together that day. He told Addie all about Adelaide, she was genuinely interested, he was grateful of that. She asked questions and took in the information.

Matt will always love Adelaide, but he feels a very strong connection to her when he is with Addie. He can’t help but wonder if it’s possible for Adelaide’s spirit to be in this girl who is an absolute reflection of her.

Maybe they will always find each other.

In life and in death.

———

@asherrisrandom @nickssunglasses @mattscoquette

#gxldenlushꨄ #lush fics♡︎#writing #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo

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