#steve and robin 4l

[palmtreesx3]

Act 5 - Right on the Edge

Edging (Robin Chapter)

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Summary: (7.6k) Robin’s sketchbook isn't quite out of pages, but her patience is on its last one. Meanwhile Steve’s got a new best friend who qualifies for a senior discount and Murray might’ve accidentally launched a fashion career before lunch. There’s a lot of coffee, not enough answers, and someone’s still whispering dirty nothings in the dark thinking it’s gonna fix things. It won’t. But damn if it doesn’t feel good trying.

Warnings: it's a sex shop and generally just NSFW so 18+. There’s sage smoke, thigh worship, and enough edging - emotionally and otherwise - to make Freud uncomfortable. Expect uninvited houseguests, fashion-related foreplay, intimacy gymnastics, and a whiplash reminder that sometimes the hottest moments still leave you cold when the clothes go back on.

The weeks went by quickly, falling into a new and comfortable, almost too easy routine. Robin would stroll in late morning after staying the night at Alex’s place to find you splayed out on the sofa - usually only in one of Steve's shirts - socked feet in Steve's lap with a lukewarm half finished coffee within arms reach on the coffee table. You're usually chatting together, arguing or teasing one another over something miniscule. Either that or your nose was in a book while the record player spun and Steve sat in silence. Robin always wondered but never asked what was going on in his thick skull as he sat there in silence. She would bet a whole lotta nothing was clanging around in there if she had the chance to make a wager, though. 

Neither you or Robin asked or knew, but Steve's mind was always spinning in those silent moments. He was often times overwhelmed. Overwhelmed by the feeling of whatever body part of yours was resting on his. Overwhelmed by whatever you did last night…or that morning with him. Overwhelmed by how he suddenly was so satisfied and content in silence. Overwhelmed by how liberating the time has been since he just fucking stopped caring about living up to anyone's expectations. Except yours. He wanted to live up to yours. In a way that didn't make a whole lot of sense to him yet. In a way that burned in his belly. 

So naturally, he was overwhelmed with fleeting thoughts of inadequacy (for you) and failure (for you). What is this lame guy managing a sex shop who ran away from Hawkins, fucking Indiana doing with her? What is SHE doing with him? His father be damned, but he spent years with his shit eating voice on his shoulder and old habits die hard. 

Some nights Robin would stroll in after whatever event she and Alex went to that evening only to find an empty house and a note from Steve on the fridge about staying at your place. At some point the notes stopped being posted. It was assumed she'd just see her friend when he strolled in for his shift at The Hideout. He's gotten real comfortable, real quick with a messy mop of hair that way. Spending every last second he could in bed under your sheets with you rather than worrying so much about how his hair laid before going out in public. Priorities change. He told her when she asked. No they haven't Dingus, you obviously still think with your dick. She clapped back. 

And Robin could tell, you liked it. You liked when the cowlick in his hair became more prominent because it wasn't tamed. You liked it when it stuck up just a little so you could play with the loose strands while he leaned over the counter and into your space. It would have made her sick if it were anyone else, but she loved Steve and she really likes you, too. So she never commented. 

Oh but Alex did. She loved pointing out the oggling and the puppy dog eyes Steve seemed to permanently wear. She loved making a show when she'd find something new of yours settling into the apartment. First a toothbrush . Then your toothpaste. Your own mug. A pair of your snow boots. A cozy new throw blanket that she knew Steve had no business picking out because it was cool as hell. She also loved to point out one important fact - they weren't officially anything at all. 

After you and Steve made up and he made you come two more times after he got you in his bed, there was no grand gesture. No fancy dates planned. No official request. Sure things changed - you were together all the time, you hung out with his friends and he started hanging out with yours, he fucked you in ways you've never felt before and he was absolutely insatiable about it. You all but turned into their third roommate and there was hardly ever a night you didn't fall asleep in his arms. But you didn't turn into his girlfriend. At least you don't think. 

Robin storms through the front door, droplets of melted, matted snow trailing her on the floor, boots kicked off haphazardly laying at awkward angles in the entryway. Her coat - well she reached to hang it up on the hook but missed. 

“Hey asshat! Listen to thi-”

Barreling down the hallway, she suddenly stops as the open bathroom door comes into view. She trips over her own feet just a bit, the sock she stole from Steve’s pile of clean laundry hanging a little loose and big over her toes got caught on the carpet treads. 

“Oh-ho-ho. Now what…in the hell…is this?” Robin questions, a deep mocking voice punctuating her words. 

The scene she stumbled on was truly one to behold. You, perched pretty up on the countertop, your apartment uniform of slouchy socks and oversized Steve-shirt intact. The yellowing bulbs from the light fixture on the wall behind you cast an amber glow right onto Steve Harrington, slotted perfectly between your spread legs. His eyes are wide, looking dead into Robin's in a stare-off. 

An abnormally cutesy giggle falls from your lips as you look between the two friends. 

“Oh Stevie-boy…what IS this? Look at you! You look like a swamp monster! What is she doing to you? God you're fuckin whipped! Her sticky bun must be TOP notch…”

“Jesus Christ Robin! It's…I wanted to try her skincare routine. It's … it's just a face mask!”

“Clay. With lavender.” You laugh again, tossing the package to Robin, who fumbles it immediately between both hands before dropping it on the floor. You tug on his face, turning it away from Robin and return to gently spreading what Robin thinks honestly looks like sludge over his face. 

“I'm going to pretend I don't see you, because I don't have the mental capacity to fully process what's going on here…but I have major news to share. Major.”

“Wh-” Steve mumbles as you press a clean finger over his lips, shaking your head for him to be still. 

“What is it Rob? We're listening.” you finish for him.

“Okay, SO. Remember that gallery opening me and Alex went to last week? Well it was so cool and…that's the one that I had that really good outfit Steve…. remember?”

He shakes his head no, because he does not remember.

“Okay well you're useless. Anyway, Alex ran off to try and network with some of the gallery people for her own gig and I was wandering and while I was grabbing a new drink I started to talk the ear off this older lady at the bar.”

“Youdontsay?” Steve mumbles out between his closed lips as you quickly swat at his chest and roll your eyes. 

Robin glares at Steve before she breaks the stare by barking out a laugh. “Sorry dude, I just can't take you seriously right now looking like that. But this lady was so cool. She was complimenting my outfit and we talked for like an hour! You should have seen how cool she looked and here she is talking to me about my outfit. Stupid cool.”

At this point you're grinning, because Robin’s stories always spiral so quickly and you're always so enamored with how passionate she gets by the smallest things. Steve, however much he loves her, is not quite as endeared. He swipes some of the hardening mask off from around his mouth so he can speak “Cool, cool, cool. We get it she was cool. So what happened Robbie. Finish the story.”

After staring at him in silence for a second Robin continues “Well, if you would let me finish… anyway this lady - Clare - she tells me she does this thing called Chicago Haute Couture Club and that they put on a fashion show every year…”

“Rob I love you but don't even tell me this lady asked you to be in their fashion show. You're the absolute clumsiest person I know, you could never…I love you but I can't let you do it.” Steve starts lecturing as you start gently wiping away his mask with a warm washcloth, his eyes darting sideways to glare at her. His hands fight not to come up and rest on his hip. 

“Dingus, I love you and I don't want you to yell at me but you're sounding an awful lot like your dad right now.”

His shoulders slump a little, and your slow wipe on his cheek halts as you brace for a reaction. But it doesn't come. “Yup. I am. I'm sorry .. Please continue, Rob. I…”

“It's cool man…don't sweat it.” 

They stare at each other for a beat before she picks back up again. “So yeah, Clare talks to me about my outfit and clothes for the longest time and then tells me all about this club or whatever and she asks me if I want to JOIN it. She told me they MAKE clothes…well they teach people how to design and make them and she apparently works for a fashion house and then this club does the show every year and…Steve she thinks I could be like…a designer one day or some shit. Wants me to work to be in next year's show. Offered to be my mentor!”

You beam at her news and hop off the sink to give her a hug, telling her how cool it is to have someone see something in her that she couldn't see herself. How amazing it is to be invited to grow and learn something new. That she absolutely can expect you and Steve to be front row at that annual show when she has pieces in it. 

Meanwhile, all time slows down around Steve and the only thing he can now focus on is how you still see him in your life a whole year from now. That you're there offering up their support as a pair a whole 365 days in the future. 

“Steve, it's great right? She's gonna be too cool for us soon.” Your voice snaps him out of his thoughts and he nods and spits out an agreement. 

“Yeah. Yeah Robbie. That's fuckin sick. You'll be great. Just dont cut up any of my cloth….or….ya know what. Nevermind. At this point you think every piece of clothing in this apartment is yours. I'm proud of you Rob.” Hooking his arm around her neck, he tugs her in for a hug. 

Once she pulls away thanking them both as she heads to her room, but not without shouting on her way “Hate to admit it but your face smells great and it was actually really soft.” before slamming her door closed.

Two weeks later and things at The Hideout have gotten no better. Simply put Kimberly is cramping their style. Robin has somehow even mastered the art of whispering, something Steve never thought he'd witness in his lifetime, just so that they can exchange thoughts, information or complaints just above a breath. 

“Even her displays are superior to ours! I get stuck in a catsuit and need to go to the hospital and she creates that fucking masterpiece without any planning. She makes ours looks like we knocked over a box and just fuckin left the merch there where it fell.” Robin gets out in a rare moment of alone time while Kimberly ran out to make copies at Kinkos. 

The bell rings and both of them wince, expecting their moment of solace to be over, but instead it's Alex pushing the door open with her shoulder as she balances three to-go cups in her hands. She purses her lips together in a kiss in Robin's direction and nods at Steve, who just barely pulls his eyes away from his tamagotchi that is absolutely circling the drain today. 

“Holy shit to what do we owe the pleasure Alex? Feels like I haven't seen you in weeks.” Steve shouts as she enters, fingers punching at the tiny buttons as he tries to feed his small creature analog hamburgers. 

And before she makes her way over to the counter and sets down their coffees Robin manages to huff out a soft “s’cause you haven't.” which makes Steve cock an eyebrow at her and file the snarky comment away for later direction. 

Steve picks up his cup and weighs the bit of tension he feels before he decides to tug on it just slightly. “Thanks for this.” he nods in her direction. “You keeping yourself busy?” 

“Yeah, really busy actually. That gallery opening I took Rob to like a month back was real good for me. Met some awesome people that might be giving me a cool opportunity to open and manage a gallery they're looking to procure. So…”

“Oh shit, that's crazy. Congrats Al…hey Rob is that the same opening you got hooked up with the fashion designer lady? You guys both landed big leads that night! Jackpot!” 

It's cute really, Robin considers for a moment how enthusiastic Steve is about it. Genuinely happy to see people in his life finding opportunities and fist pumping in the air like a dork to cinch his support. His big stupid happy grin fades a bit as he sees Alex staring at Robin looking confused. 

“What big lead?” she deadpans at Robin. 

“Oh-uh you know like…that fashion thing. I told you about it.”

“I don't think you actually did, Rob. Which is crazy because you literally word-vomit everything else in your brain.”

Steve's stupid grin fades fast as he hears Alex’s response to his friend. Hearing the bite in it. Not sure if he blew up his friends spot or what the fuck is going on. His hand stretched up and falls behind his head, rubbing the nape of his neck as he awkwardly makes a face and winces at what he seems to have started. “Hey hey it’s no big -”

“No big deal? Is that what you're gonna say, Steve? I dunno seems like a big deal when your girl doesn't tell you some kind of big news.”

“Al, it's not like that. You were so busy that night, and I was super out of place at first and you know I hate how socially awkward I am and I felt abandoned. But I made friends ..well maybe not a friend but…she complimented me on my clothes and she was so cool like….”

“She complimented you? I go network and end up getting my dream opportunity and you are hitting on some other girl?”

“NO. No. Alex that's not what I'm saying just let me freaking finish! She was an old lady! It…Jesus Christ. You've been busy and when I am with you you're only talking about this gallery and it's good. Great for you even. Awesome. And I have tried filling you in on the designer stuff I was doing but I think you just thought it was more of me playing around in Steve's closet and….well it's not you just…”

At this point Steve is trying desperately to become invisible as the words become more curt and biting. He's good at that, a skill mastered at a young age as he had to endure many adult arguments between his parents across the dinner table, up front in the car or just about anywhere else they could talk over his head about their disagreements and transgressions. He sips his coffee silently with wide eyes darting between the pair as they argue. Much like that little version of Steve, guiltily feeling like he's the reason for the argument in the first place. 

“God Rob, at this point I'm sure you're more invested in whatever you can call his relationship than you are in ours!”

Steve puts the coffee down and leans forward, meekly interjecting, looking at Robin “Wh-what does that mean?

“Seriously man, just get some balls and make her your girlfriend because mine cares about that way too much. Sure can hear about that till my ears bleed but she can't even tell me about whatever stupid opportunity some old lady propositioned her with at my event.” Alex bites at them both. 

“Dude, I didn't…..Alex I think you should go. Call Robbie later or something to work it out. Kimberly’s gonna be back any second and…she's….ugh she's…”

And as if on cue Kimberly saunters in the door, a stack of copied papers in her arms. She looks Steve up and down like she always seems to, making him feel like a piece of meat before chiming in “Oh perfect. You guys made yourself useful while I was out and helped a customer!”

Robin's lash line is glistening and Alex struts towards the door pushing past Kimberly and calling back sarcastically “Thanks for all of your assistance.” leaving the three coworkers standing there looking at one another all confused for very very different reasons..

After finishing her shift that day, more quiet than Steve has ever seen her since they've met, she pushes open the door to the shop and calls back to Steve “See ya. Probably at home. I gotta go for a walk “ 

“Yeah, yeah of course Robbie, just…be safe okay? Come back if you need anything.” He tries to be reassuring. He's not sure if he's good at it, or convincing but he means it. 

“Thank GOD that's over. She was a friggen buzzkill today.” Kimberly blurts out as soon as the bolt in the door catches. She turns to face Steve with a look on her face “Looks like it's just us for the rest of the night. Huh?”

“Wh-yeah? Yeah I guess so.” Steve's distracted, worried about Robin and still confused as fuck about the interaction between her and Alex just a few hours earlier. He didn't mean anything by it - asking where she's been. She hasn't been around as much, but he didn't think it was going to start some nuclear blow up. And Robin cried. She cried! He’s mentally going through the catalog of their friendship trying to think of just one moment he ever saw Robin Buckley cry despite their disastrous hometown and their unbelievable back stories. He's sure of it. She never shed a tear. 

He's so distracted that he does not notice the way Kimberly is staring him down. So dazed he barely registers her sliding up beside him, wedging herself in a sliver of space between him and the register. She starts picking at the loose strings on his polo without him noticing and just as he does a double take realizing just how close she's gotten and goes to ask her what she's doing, the bell rings and you walk in with Robin. 

His mouth drops open, feeling caught for doing absolutely nothing at all. He immediately wants to finish what he was going to say to Kimberly about his personal space, but …should he apologize to you for letting her get so close? What does he say to Robin who is looking at him like he's betrayed her for the second time in the last 24 hours. “Stephen James Harrington step the fuck away from the conventionally attractive cunt of a coworker. NOW.” Robin says with little wavering. Like a mom admonishing her small child. “She's abysmal. I leave you alone with her for an hour and you can't even keep your cock wrangled? What did she do to deserve that?” She nods in your direction and you stand there gaping. 

“Hey what the actual fuck? You guys are -” Kimberly is cut off by Robin again in a rare blaze of confidence. An actually articulate telling off falling from her lips. 

“No. No no. Your tiny skirts and shiny hair don't fool me. You're used to showing your tits off and getting your way but guess what? Even this dingus of a guy whose brain apparently still lives in the head of his dick and has spent most of his life being a man-whore and my absolutely lesbian, girl loving vagina are not fooled by you. We are not bewitched. You wanna get ahead, go blow Murray, but leave Steve alone. We finally…..well HE finally got a good woman and you're gonna blow his spot up? No no no. Don't touch a hair on that perfect little head of his. You hear me, Kimberly?”

A breath of a whisper leaves your lips “Fuckin get her girl. Look at you.” You say to Robin, both taken back and thrilled to see her stand her ground and stick up for herself, her friend. 

Kimberly tosses her hair over her shoulder as she barges through the beads into the back room to grab her things before stomping to the front door. “You guys are fucking weird. All of you. Obsessed with each other, too. Murray’s gonna hear about this shit. Unbelievable!” And she flips her hair again before marching out the door. 

Steve's been stunned into silence since this all began and he finally looks back at you and Robin before spiraling “I didn't …I don't know what...that wasn't….”

Robin marches over to her best friend, hands on his shoulders and shoves him. “Hey what the fuck Rob…I”

“No. You listen. Thank you.”

Steve's brows are furrowed, scrunched together, mouth hanging open and lip upturned in confusion. Robin smacks his shoulder. “Thank you. I know you didn't like…intentionally do it but you forced me to deal with something I've been avoiding with Alex and….I just…thank you for being so oblivious you're actually helpful. And for not being judgemental about how idiotic I am with trying to be a girlfriend. And I figured I should be less judgemental of you and your - ” she points back and forth between you and Steve “- whatever this is.” She rolls her eyes. “I ran into her at the coffee shop. She helped me feel a little less maniacal before we walked back here. I like her and she's good and I thought Alex was good for me and…maybe but….I don't know now. But please don't be an idiot, Steve.”

He's still looking fundamentally confused and Robin's patience is thin. “Just like…ask her. For real. I can't take this anymore. Please.” and with that she turns and walks out, leaving you standing with a flabbergasted Steve rocking on his heels trying not to be self conscious. A feeling he's been exploring a lot since he's moved here it seems. 

“I…uh. I kinda started to think that it was so good, if I asked you to actually be my girl that I would find a way to ruin it. Or you'd just finally figure out I'm some self centered jerk. You deserve better than that. I get it if you wanna call me an asshole or whatever… “ 

“I don't care, Steve. I like you. A lot. This is more than just fun for me, but I can also be patient.”

“No- no Rob's right. I need to just bite the bullet. I need to stop being so scared of myself. She was right to call me out. Jesus Christ…what's the worst that could happen right? Crushing heartbreak and eternal invalidation but….”

You giggle at his self depreciation as he steps towards you, taking your hands in his. “So will you? Be my girl?” 

They'd just gotten the afternoon lull when the bell above the door gave a jangle that had all the subtlety of a slap. It's been a quiet day so far, not many customers, Murray's not expected in for the day and - thank God - no Kimberly on the schedule, either, because it's been even worse with her around since Robin called her a cunt right to her perfectly matte, pink bubblegum cheeked face. 

It gave the two some time to quietly talk about big things. Mostly Steve and his newfound status as a boyfriend, but he tried valiantly to edge in some subtle opportunities for Robin to open up about whatever is going on with her and Alex. He hasn't seen her for days and his friend has been uncharacteristically quiet. 

Robin finally looked up, expecting a nosy regular or maybe a mail drop. Instead, in walked a vision. A man - tall, thin, all angles and audacity - with a huge vintage fur coat draped over his shoulders and a leather weekender bag in tow. He looked like he’d walked off the set of a Bowie music video or maybe crawled out of the merch table of a Bauhaus show.

“I need your most versatile harness,” he announced, peeling off his sunglasses with a flourish, “and a flogger that won't fall apart halfway through a monologue.”

Robin blinked. “...It's barely noon.”

He turned toward her like she’d just asked him to justify gravity. “And?”

Fair enough.

Steve, ever the sentinel of chaos, peered out from the storeroom and immediately made a face. “Oh good,” he muttered. “Another theater gay. Just what we needed.”

Robin gave him the finger without turning around.

“Right this way, sir,” she said, voice smooth as velvet, “you’ve caught us during peak operating hours.” she says with an extra dry tinge. 

“Perfect,” he replied, following her into the back aisle like a man on a mission. “I'm hosting a reading tonight. A Midsummer Night’s Wet Dream. Fringe crowd. They expect a level of commitment.”

Robin didn’t ask questions. Just handed him a black leather flogger and watched his eyes light up like Christmas.

By the time he’d checked out with said flogger, two sets of cuffs, and something called a “service top starter kit” Robin was almost smiling again.

Steve, watching from behind the register, just shrugged. “You always get the good ones.”

“That’s ‘cause I speak fluent freak,” she shot back, but her tone was lighter now “It comes free with the homosexuality.” Almost soft.

That night, unlike most nights before, she didn't drink a beer in the living room; she didn't giggle over wine with you; she didn't paint her nails on the fire escape; she didn’t go home with Alex. Instead, she sat cross-legged on her floor, knees tucked under her oversized pajama pants, an old box of colored pencils spilled across the carpet. Pages torn from a legal pad were scattered around her like leaves — messy sketches of harness mods, corset ideas, a truly unhinged concept for a sheer-lace utility vest that had no reason to exist but still… felt right.

Robin hadn’t drawn like this since high school. Not seriously. Not in a way that felt like it meant something. She paused only once, to dig out the pack of American Spirits Steve kept forgetting were hidden in the kitchen drawer. No music. No phone. Just the faint sound of the fridge kicking on, and the scratch of her pencil against paper.

She wasn’t thinking about the fight. Or Alex. Or Steve. Or the stranger in the fur coat who’d looked at her like she actually knew what she was doing.

She was thinking about the possibility.

The Hideout was always cold in the morning. Not freezing, but just cold enough to make the linoleum tiles feel hostile through the soles of her boots. Robin didn’t complain. She just tugged on the sleeves of her too-big sweater that was most certainly one of Steve's old ones - a clear trend by now - probably stolen by accident a week ago, and flopped into the creaky stool behind the counter.

Her sketchbook hit the wood with a soft thud. Legal pad. Ink smudges on the edge of her palm. She’d already gone through three pens this week. She didn’t even remember using them that much.

Steve was talking. Or maybe he’d been talking for a while and she just tuned in now.

“- so anyway, I sat down like I always do, and this guy -  like, did I tell you last time he was old. Real old. Definitely fought in a war or something, the way he sits. Anyway, he asks if he can share the bench again. And I’m like, obviously, yes, it’s a public bench, sir. But we start talking again like no problem, and he’s telling me about how he used to coach kids’ baseball back in the day and how no one wants to volunteer anymore, and I just -”

“You’re replacing me with the old dog guy,” Robin muttered, pencil dragging across the page without looking up. “Jesus, Steve, it’s only been like three weeks since you started bench-sitting and you’re already forming replacement best friend bonds?”

“He’s wise!” Steve protested, mouth full of cereal. “He said I have kind eyes.”

“That’s what they said about Ted Bundy.” Robin snapped back, flipping a page. She smirked. “What else did Grandpa Enlightenment say? That you’ve got a good aura? That you’re wasting your potential in a smut shop?”

Steve paused. “...actually, yeah. But like…not in the my-dads-an-asshole kinda way.”

Robin looked up then, not with her usual sarcastic spark, but with a weird kind of curiosity. “Wait, seriously?”

“He said I reminded him of this kid he coached. Said he could see me doing something with kids. Teaching or some shit.”

“That’s...almost wholesome. And wildly off-base.”

Steve shrugged. “I dunno. Got me thinking.”

He wandered behind the counter, peeking over her shoulder like he had any right to. She angled the pad away with a practiced elbow nudge, but not before he caught the edge of what looked like a corset sketched over wide-legged pants and some kind of...armor plating?

“What is that?” he asked, reaching again. “Is that a bulletproof vest? With ribbons?”

“Don't touch my genius,” she mumbled, turning a page. “It’s a concept piece.”

“A concept for what, a vampire-themed runway show?”

She didn’t answer.

Instead, she flipped to another page, then another. Steve saw color-blocked silhouettes, notes in the margins like “pleated vinyl?” and “vintage sheer over denim??” It was like watching a radio station change frequencies. Robin was here - in the room, in the store - but most of her had tuned out, broadcasting from somewhere else.

“Okay, seriously,” Steve said, grabbing the edge of the pad. “What are you doing lately? You’ve been glued to this thing since the paddle guy came in.”

“It’s not because of him.”

“But it started after him.”

She looked up again, met his eyes, and shrugged. “Maybe it’s all of it. Him. Clare from the gallery. You. Me. I don’t know. It’s like…I’m starting to see things.”

Steve blinked. “...Like hallucinations?”

She tossed a pen at him.

“I mean like... design. Textures. Shapes. The way a pair of cargo pants bunch around a waist. The way elastic fights with leather. Stuff like that. I see it and I get itchy. Like I have to get it down or I’ll forget.”

“You’re having sexy fashion visions,” he muttered. “Neat.”

“I am having sexy fashion visions,” she agreed, flipping another page. “And I’m not sorry about it.”

“Hey, whatever keeps the demons at bay.”

That was when Murray appeared.

Not through the door - somehow, always from the walls at the absolutely most inconvenient of times. “What keeps the demons at bay?” he asked, slapping a folder down on the counter. “Is it lavender oil? That’s what keeps my demons at bay.”

“Your demons are probably just unpaid parking tickets,” Robin said without looking up.

“Oh, Red,” Murray deadpanned, “my demons are much worse than that.”

He glanced down at her open sketchpad just as Steve tried (and failed) to block it with both arms.

Murray made a sound. Something like a startled raccoon but higher-pitched. “What the hell is this?”

“Nothing,” Robin said, immediately reaching to close the book.

“No. No, no, no, Robin Louise Buckley. You give that here. That is not nothing. That is avant-garde brilliance wrapped in a goth fever dream wrapped in vintage polyester.”

Robin narrowed her eyes. “You’re not allowed to use the term ‘avant-garde.’”

“You think I don’t know fashion?” Murray asked, offended. “I know people. I know people in everything. Publishing. Manufacturing. Rope work. Button design. And — as fate would have it — fashion.”

She snorted. “You know a guy who does buttons?”

“I know a guy who makes buttons,” Murray said proudly. “And another who used to sew for Drag Race — the underground one, not the car one. Point is, if you’re sketching like this, I can get eyes on it. Legitimate ones.”

Robin’s heart thudded a little faster, but she kept her voice dry. “And in exchange, I assume you want full rights to my name, likeness, and eternal soul?”

“I want to be your agent,” he said, dead serious.

“You want to take credit for me.”

“I want 10%, but yes.”

She looked at Steve. He was trying not to laugh and failing miserably.

“This is so stupid,” she muttered. “You’re all so stupid.”

But she didn’t close the sketchpad.

Robin’s key stuck in the lock. Not all the way, not enough to panic, just the kind of stubborn jam that made her curse under her breath as she shoved the door with her hip. When it gave way, the apartment was unusually quiet. No record playing, no Steve stomping around singing Hall & Oates, no kitchen fan whirring above something slightly burnt.

Just the smell of sage. And coffee, even though neither of them had made coffee since lunch. Both were simply tell-tale signs that you were cozied up somewhere inside.

She kicked her boots off, left them half sideways by the door, and turned the corner into the living room.

You were there, as anticipated. Sitting on the arm of the couch in one of Steve’s ugly-ass cable knit sweatshirts leftover from the wardrobe his mommy bought him - some rich ass Ralph Lauren, she's pretty sure - knees pulled up under you, cradling a chipped mug like it was holy and the kind of soft focus Robin normally ignored. But something about your stillness stopped her short.

Then she saw Alex.

Curled in the far corner of the couch, knees to her chest, hoodie sleeves pulled over her fists. Her hair was frizzy in a way Robin hadn’t seen in weeks. Undone. Unraveled. And her eyes were rimmed red like she’d either just finished crying or was still figuring out how.

Robin’s throat tightened. You stood up, walked past Alex, gave her a light touch on the arm - not quite a squeeze, not quite a brush - and murmured something low as you passed. “If it still matters, it’s worth saying. But don’t talk until you’re ready.”

You walk past Robin, edges of that stupid country club sweater grazing your thighs, reaching out and squeezing her hand as you put down your mug in the sink. “She’s been here about an hour,” you said gently. “Didn’t say much. Just… waited.” And then you left her to it, shuffling off into Steve's room, it's only a second before Robin hear's the low buzz of the record player kicking on and a soft hum of music to act as a buffer.

Robin hovered for a second. A beat too long. The air between them was thick with all the words that had stacked up over a week of too brief answering machine messages and avoiding connections.

“Hey,” she said finally.

Alex looked up. Not with fury. Not with drama. Just that kicked-dog softness that made Robin’s chest hurt.

“Can we talk?” she asked.

Robin nodded and she led her into her bedroom. The door shut softly behind them. No grand declarations. No immediate apology - from either side. But Robin is still not sure she has anything to even apologize for, so she's not sure why she feels a sudden guilt ball up in her chest.

Alex stood in the middle of the room like she didn’t know where to sit, or if she was allowed to.

“I’m sorry,” she said quietly.

Robin didn’t move.

“I was mean. And I was insecure. And I hated that you didn’t tell me about the fashion thing, but I didn’t ask. I didn’t… make space. And that wasn’t fair. I know I've been busy and that made me a bit distant but…”

Robin crossed the room slowly. She sat on the edge of the bed and picked at a loose thread in her sleeve.

Alex stayed standing.

“I was proud of you,” she added. “I am proud of you. I just didn’t say it. And God I fucking hate to admit it but I'm jealous of fucking Steve Harrington.”

Still no response.

“I’ve missed you.”

Robin looked up then, with eyes soft, and glassy. She gave the barest nod before she blinked away any semblance of emotion from those sparkling wet eyes. 

Alex stepped forward.

It wasn’t immediate, the way they touched. It wasn’t hunger. It was that thing that happens when your body knows someone else’s rhythm better than your own. When you remember how to fit, even if your mind isn’t sure you belong there anymore.

She leaned down, pressed her lips to Robin’s. It was slow. Careful.

Robin kissed back.

Her hands stayed limp on her thighs, but her mouth moved. It followed the curve of Alex’s jaw, her tongue soft and slow, letting herself be guided. Alex sank to her knees in front of her, cupped her face with both hands like she could hold her there forever.

“You feel far away,” Alex whispered.

“I’m not,” Robin lied.

The next kiss was deeper. Messier.

Alex slid between her knees with an ease that came from history, not performance. Her hands were already under Robin’s sweater, splayed across her ribs, thumbs sweeping lazy arcs beneath her bra like they’d never unlearned each other.

Robin felt it. In the coil of her stomach, in the way her thighs clenched around nothing. Her head tipped back against the wall and she let her mouth part, breathing heavy as Alex kissed down her neck - slow and reverent -  like she was tracing old lines on a favorite page.

“God, you’re so fucking beautiful,” Alex whispered into her collarbone. “My very own personal work of art.”

Robin didn’t answer. Just dragged her fingers through Alex’s hair, tugging gently at the base of her neck until her lips returned to hers. The kiss deepened again. Wetter, open-mouthed, full of shared breath and faint whimpers.

Alex’s hands slid down to Robin’s waistband and paused, seeking permission,  but not with words. Just a look. Robin answered by shifting, hips lifting just enough to help. It was muscle memory. Trust. Habit. Want.

The kind of want that hummed in her fingertips but hadn’t reached her heart.

Still, it was enough.

Alex pulled her jeans down with practiced grace, then kissed her way down from sternum to belly to the inside of her thighs until Robin was breathless and shivering, legs parted, hands twisted in the sheets.

“Let me,” Alex murmured.

Robin nodded. And then - Fingers. Soft and slow at first. Drawing lazy circles at the edge of everything, barely dipping in. Not teasing to be cruel, but like Alex wanted to draw it out, wanted to prove she remembered. That she knew every flick and press and angle that made Robin sigh and tremble and come undone.

She was good at it. Maddeningly good. She curled her fingers just enough to chase the spark without catching it. Robin whimpered, hips canting forward, her breath catching on every exhale.

 Soft and slow at first, then deeper. A rhythm she knew, remembered, opened to without hesitation. Alex’s mouth was on her inner thigh, her voice low and filthy against her skin, whispering praise like poetry between strokes.

“You always sound so pretty for me.”

“I missed how you taste.”

“Fuck, baby, you're perfect like this.”

Robin gasped, spine curling up as her body took over. Her hips rolled. Her fingers gripped the back of Alex’s head. Her mouth fell open in a silent moan that turned vocal halfway through.

Alex pulled back. Just slightly. “You’re already so fucking close,” she whispered, her mouth hot against the inside of Robin’s thigh. “You’re always so easy for me.”

Robin clenched her teeth, nodded once, sharp. She didn’t want to be edged. Not tonight. Not on purpose. But she didn’t say no. Couldn’t make herself say anything.

Alex’s tongue joined her fingers, licking slow and flat up her center, then circling - almost where Robin wanted it - but not quite.

A whine slipped from her throat. Embarrassing. Raw.

“Patience,” Alex murmured.

She thought it was seductive. Thought it was working. Maybe it was. Robin’s body didn’t know the difference. Her thighs were shaking, breath hitching with every denied crest, but something in her chest pulled tight. Not from the rhythm, but from the distance. The way Alex kissed like she was making up for something, instead of being with her. Like this was performance. A gift-wrapped apology with teeth.

Still, Robin’s body obeyed.

Alex finally - finally - flattened her tongue, slow and firm, adding pressure in all the right places. Her fingers worked in tandem, curling just right, the pace picking up, wet and perfect. Robin gasped, twisted the sheets, choked on her own breath.

She was gone. Unraveled.

The orgasm hit like a wave crashing against rock, loud and sharp and relentless. She moaned, full-bodied, the sound swallowed in Alex’s mouth and her own stuttering breath. Her hips rolled once more, then locked. Legs trembling. Back arching. A groan ripped from her throat as her vision spotted at the edges.

It was sharp and full and scorching. A rush through every nerve ending. Her body trembled, thighs locking tight, voice cracking in the back of her throat as heat bloomed low and fast and blinding.

Alex’s mouth softened against her, slower now, gentler, kissing each thigh like she was sealing the moment shut. Her cheek rested against Robin’s stomach, and her fingers drew lazy patterns near the crease of her hip, trailing invisible lines that didn’t mean anything.

For a moment - a perfect moment - the world disappeared. Her brain stopped spinning. Her skin felt electric. She was seen. She was known. She felt… almost okay.

It felt like a window had opened.

And then like blinds pulled closed at sunset, the feeling began to fade. The room dimmed. And so did she.

Alex laid her head against her stomach again, fingers still softly tracing her hipbones, lips pressing gentle kisses into her skin like punctuation. She looked up, smiling. Warm, present and in love.

Robin smiled back.

Not a lie. Not the whole truth either. Inside, there was a quietness. Not bad. Not painful. Just… hollow. Like the heat had burned through everything, left nothing behind but steam.

Robin stared at the ceiling, breathing hard. Heart pounding. She reached down, fingers finding Alex’s hair, stroking through it slowly. Her chest felt empty where it had once been full. Full of that steam. Like the heat had evaporated and left her skin cool. The good lingered, sure - her body wasn’t lying. But her heart…

Her heart hadn’t been there the whole time.

Alex looked up, smiling like she’d done something brave. Something right. Like she’d fixed it. Robin smiled back again. She always did. She exhaled, long and slow and twirled those thin fingers adorned with chipped blue nail polish through Alex’s hair, and didn’t say a word.

The kitchen smelled like burnt toast and existential dread.

Robin shuffled in wearing boxers and a tee, the logo faded to near invisibility, the hem stretched from too many wash cycles and too many people falling asleep in it on the couch. At this point it's unclear to even Steve if the clothes were his first. They're just communal now. 

Steve stood at the stove, barefoot, wielding a spatula like it had insulted one of the kids from back home.

“Morning, sunshine,” he chirped.

Robin blinked at him. Just once.

Steve pointed the spatula at the toaster. “Before you ask - yes, that smell is the toast. Yes, it’s also a little bit plastic. No, you’re not allowed to throw it away. I can scrape the bad parts off.”

She wordlessly opened the fridge. Poured herself a glass of orange juice. Took one sip. Set it down.

“Someone’s chipper,” she muttered.

“That would be me. I’m chipper.” He flipped something. It sizzled aggressively. “Had a full night’s sleep next to my pretty girlfriend, three eggs, and a deeply unnecessary conversation with my new friend Robert on the bench and you one hundred percent owe me a drink, because I revived my stupid tamagotchi. Ha!”

Robin dropped into a chair with the weight of a dying star. “Jesus, geriatric Bob again?”

“Don’t be jealous. You had your shot at being my best friend.”

She rested her cheek on the cool tabletop and stared at the salt shaker.

Steve plated something vaguely egg-adjacent and set it in front of her. “He told me I should volunteer at the youth center”

“That’s because he wants someone to co-host Bingo Night so he can finally retire.”

“Or,” Steve said, sitting across from her and stealing a piece of his own toast back, “he’s seen my potential.”

Robin made a face.

“What?” he asked, mouth full. “I’m good with kids. I’ve got… warmth.”

“You have warm breath. That’s not the same.”

Steve laughed. “You’re cranky.”

“I’m…” she paused. “I’m tired.”

He tilted his head. “You and Alex…”

Robin didn’t answer.

“She was here last night? I heard …nevermind. You guys figured things out?”

The room sat with Robin’s silence for a minute. Long enough for the toast to cool and the egg to look sad. “I think I have to end it,” she said softly.

Steve didn’t react right away. Just took another bite. Chewed. Swallowed. Looked at her with that dumbass empathy he always pulled out at the worst possible moments. “Because it’s not good?”

“No,” she said, shaking her head. “Because it is. Or… was. It’s just not mine anymore.”

Steve nodded slowly. “That’s very poetically heartbreaking of you.”

“I’m in my poetic heartbreak era,” she deadpanned.

He pointed his fork at her. “That’s gonna look great in your memoir one day.” Robin exhaled a half-laugh. Then dragged her fork through the eggs and didn’t eat them.

Outside, the sun kept rising. And inside, Robin finally knew what came next.

TAGLIST: @livsters @katie-tibo @johnrichardpapen @angywritesstuff @k-k0129 @tisthedamngoldrush @middle-of-the-sky @thebrazilianatheist @mochminnie @micheledawn1975 @falling-throughthe-hourglass @rafaaoli @ash5monster01 @gabessock @onyxslay69 @scoopshxrrington @superblysubpar

[palmtreesx3]

THE BABE LAIR 🔥🔥🔥 🤣🤣🤣

Yes. As far as my head is concerned this is now truth.

He opens the front door for everyone a la S1 King Steve and Robin still doesn't let him say "Boobies" in The Babe Lair without whining uncontrollably.

Thank you for this.

what's on your s5 wishlist? the silly, goofy things!!!

HI SWEETIE!! Thanks for the ask!

1- Now as I’ve been expressing in my recent posts I want Will to do something really crazy and creepy and gross. Not EVIL but some kind of wierd horror trope that would be really fun to watch with him.

2- Lucas gets a motorcycle and does the Akira bike slide. He also has a bazooka. Akira came out in 1988 it would make sense with the time period!!

3- Post-time skip I want Lucas and El to have a shared interest that they developed together whilst watching over Max, like maybe both of them got really into skateboarding because they want to all do it together once she wakes up. Cue El controlling a board with her mind while looking fly as fuck.

4- Robin and Steve get a place together and call it The Babe Lair

5- Lately Rovickie has been really growing on me so… just more Rovickie. A lot of Rovickie.

6- At some point Steve does like the most cheesiest action movie line read in history. Something akin to “I’m here to chew bubblegum and kick ass” from They Live

7- Jonathan. Chainsaw.

8- At some point Argyle hatches a plan that involves drugs and it actually. Works.

9- Dustin is the science guy as always but he gets really crazy with it. Like conspiracy boards up on his wall crazy with it

I definitely left out a lot of things but that is a general list!!

[musicoviniciusrodrigues]

Todos os filmes originais Netflix, classificados do pior ao melhor

A Netflix está investindo cada vez mais na produção de filmes exclusivos. Mais de duas centenas deles já foram lançados, e todos estão disponíveis na plataforma do serviço de streaming. A Bula avaliou as produções originais e as reuniu em uma lista, organizada do pior ao melhor filme. O ranking levou em conta as notas atribuídas aos títulos no IMDb, uma das maiores plataformas de cinema do mundo. Alguns destaques são: “Roma” (2018), de Alfonso Cuarón, que ganhou o Oscar de Melhor Filme Estrangeiro em 2019; e “O Menino que Descobriu o Vento” (2019), dirigido por Chiwetel Ejiofor. É importante lembrar que a lista não tem intenção de ser universal ou definitiva, apenas representa as avaliações recebidas pelos filmes na plataforma pesquisada.

281 — Drive (2019), Tarun Mansukhani 280 — The Ridiculous 6 (2015), Frank Coraci 279 — Zerando a Vida (2016), Steven Brill 278 — Perda Total (2018), Kyle Newacheck 277 — Dívida Perigosa (2017), Martin Zandvliet 276 — Sandy Wexler (2017), Steve Brill 275 — Seis Vezes Confusão (2019), Michael Tiddes 274 — Fica Comigo (2017), Brent Bonacorso 273 — A Barraca do Beijo (2018), Vince Marcello 272 — The Silence (2019), John R. Leonetti 271 — O Príncipe do Natal (2017), Alex Zamm 270 — Obsessão Secreta (2019), Peter Sullivan 269 — O Príncipe do Natal: O Casamento Real (2018), John Schult 268 — A História Real de um Assassino Falso (2016), Jeff Wadlow 267 — Cascavel (2019), Zak Hilditch 266 — Mudo (2018), Duncan Jones 265 — Crazy Trips: Budapeste (2019), Xavier Gens 264 — O Feitiço de Natal (2018), Bradley Walsh 263 — Pai do Ano (2018), Tyler Spindel 262 — A Babá (2017), McG 261 — Io (2019), Jonathan Helpert 260 — Blockbuster (2017), July Hygreck 259 — Bright (2017), David Ayer 258 — iBOY (2017), Adam Randall 257 — TAU (2018), Federico D’Alessandro 256 — Tribu Urbana Dance (2018), Fernando Colomo 255 — #realityhigh (2017), Fernando Lebrija 254 — Quando nos Conhecemos (2018), Ari Sandel 253 — Dude: A Vida é Assim (2018), Olivia Milch 252 — A Volta Por Cima (2019), Remy Four 251 — The Cloverfield Paradox (2018), Julius Onah 250 — Death Note (2017), Adam Wingard 249 — Feliz Aniversário de Casamento (2018), Jared Stern 248 ¬— Crush à Altura (2019), Nzingha Stewart 247 — Vende-se Esta Casa (2018), Matt Angel e Suzanne Coote 246 — Extinção (2018), Bem Young 245 — Cartão de Natal (2017), Ernie Barbarash 244 — David Brent: A Vida na Estrada (2018), Ricky Gervais 243 — Revenger (2018), Lee Seung-won 242 — O Caderno de Sara (2018), Norberto López Amado 241 — XOXO: A Vida é Uma Festa (2016), Christopher Louie 240 — Paradox (2016), Michael Hurst 239 — Special Correspondents (2016), Ricky Gervais 238 — Próxima Parada: Apocalipse (2018), David. M. Rosenthal 237 — Nu (2017), Michael Tiddes 236 — Pato Pato Ganso (2018), Chris Jenkins 235 — Polar (2019), Jonas Åkerlund 234 — Amor em Obras (2019), Roger Kumble 233 — No Ritmo da Sedução (2018), Tinge Krishnan 232 — The After Party (2018), Ian Edelman 231 — Dia da Namorada (2017), Michael Paul Stephenson 230 — Gostos e Cores (2017), Myriam Aziza 229 — Mistério no Mediterrâneo (2019), Kyle Newacheck 228 — A Princesa e a Plebeia (2018), Michael Rohl 227 — A Última Gargalhada (2019), Greg Pritikin 226 — Pelas Ruas de Paris (2019), Élisabeth Vogler 225 — Órbita 9 (2017), Hatem Khraiche 224 — Mãe e Muito Mais (2019), Cindy Chupack 223 — Duda e os Gnomos (2017), Peter Lepeniotis 222 — Suzzanna: Buried Alive (2019), Rocky Soraya 221 — Contando os Segundos (2016), Priyadarshan 220 — Castelo de Areia (2017), Fernando Coimbra 219 — Natal 5 Estrelas (2018), Marco Risi 218 — Lá Vêm Os Pais (2018), Robert Smigel 217 — O Terceiro Olho (2018), Rocky Soraya 216 — O Casamento de Ali (2018), Jeffrey Walker 215 — Campo do Medo (2019), Vincenzo Natali 214 — Juanita (2019), Clark Johnson 213 — A Escalada (2017), Ludovic Bernard 212 — Boneca Maldita (2018), Rocky Soraya 211 — A Mulher Mais Odiada dos Estados Unidos (2017), Tommy O’Haver 210 — Clinical (2017), Alistair Legrand 209 — À Queima-Roupa (2019), Joe Lynch 208 — Yucatán (2019), Daniel Monzón 207 — Anon (2018), Andrew Niccol 206 — Eli (2019), Ciarán Foy 205 — Mercy (2016), Chris Sparling 204 — O Professor de Música (2019), Sarthak Dasgupta 203 — Iris (2016), Jalil Lespert 202 — Shimmer Lake (2017), Oren Uziel 201 — Estrada Sem Lei (2019), John Lee Hancock 200 — Spectral (2016) 199 — Insana (2017), Gerard Barrett 198 — Doce Argumento (2018), Bem Shelton 197 — Missão: Moedas (2017), Emily Hagins 196 — Close (2019), Vicky Jewson 195 — Mascots (2016), Christopher Guest 194 — Loja de Unicórnios (2019), Brie Larson 193 — Fé de Etarras (2017), Borja Cobeaga 192 — Batalhas (2018), Katarina Launing 191 — Deixe a Neve Cair (2019), Luke Snellin 190 — Quem Tem Carma Nunca Alcança (2017), Nikhil Bhat 189 — The Dirt: Confissões do Mötley Crue (2019), Jeff Tremaine 188 — Ánimas (2019), José F. Ortuño e Laura Alvea 187 — O Chefe (2018), Sergio Barrejón 186 — Desaparecida (2018), Alejandro Montiel 185 — Perfeita Para Você (2018), Stephanie Laing 184 — Pequeno Demônio (2017), Eli Craig 183 — Kodachrome (2018), Mark Raso 182 — Malevolent (2018), Olaf de Fleur Johannesson 181 — Siga Pela 10 (2017), Chester Tam 180 — Asfalto de Sangue (2019), Yann Gozlan 179 — O Homem Sem Gravidade (2019), Marco Bonfanti 178 — Quando os Anjos Dormem (2018), Gonzalo Bendala 177 — Sequestrando Stella (2019), Thomas Sieben 176 — Alguém Especial (2019), Jennifer Kaytin Robinson 175 — Onde Está Segunda? (2017), Tommy Wirkola 174 — Between Two Ferns: O Filme (2019), Scott Aukerman 173 — Handsome: Um Filme de Mistério Netflix (2017), Jeff Garlin 172 — Sombra Lunar (2019), Jim Mickle 171 — Saara (2017), Pierre Coré 170 — Sonhos Lúcidos (2017), Kim Joon-sung 169 — Firebrand (2019), Aruna Raje 168 — O Banqueiro da Resistência (2018), Joram Lursen 167 — Sierra Burgess é Uma Loser (2018), Ian Samuels 166 — Slam (2017), Andrea Molaioli 165 — ARQ (2016), Tony Elliot 164 — Ibiza: Tudo Pelo DJ (2018), Alex Richanbach 163 — Sementes Podres (2018), Kheiron 162 — Les Affamés (2017), Robin Aubert 161 — O Centenário que Saiu Sem Pagar a Conta e Sumiu (2016), Felix e Mans Herngren 160 — Benji (2018), Brandon Camp 159 — Natal em El Camino (2017), David E. Talbert 158 — Rebirth (2016), Karl Mueller 157 — Eu Não Sou um Homem Fácil (2018), Eleonore Purriat 156 — O autor (2017), Manuel Martin Cuenca 155 — Noite de Lobos (2018), Jeremy Saulnier 154 — Código de Silêncio (2017), Gerard McMurray 153 — Brahman Naman (2016), Qaushiq Mukherjee 152 — Resgate do Coração (2019), Ernie Barbarash 151 — O Matador (2017), Marcelo Galvão 150 — Até que a Gente te Separe (2019), Madeleine Sami e Jackie van Beek 149 — O Aviso (2018), Daniel Calparsoro 148 — Perdoai as Nossas Dívidas (2018), Antonio Morabito 147 — Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon: Sword of Destiny (2016), Yuen Wo-Ping 146 — Carga Bruta (2015), Julien Leclercq 145 — Minha Primeira Luta (2018), Olivia Newman 144 — King: Uma História de Vingança (2017), Fabrice Du Welz 143 — Andar Montar Rodeio (2019), Conor Allyn 142 — O Anjo de Mossad (2018), Ariel Vormen 141 — Solo (2019), Hugo Stuven 140 — Jadotville (2016), Richie Smyth 139 — Errementari: O Ferreiro e O Diabo (2018), Paul Urkijo Alijo 138 — Tallulah (2016), Sian Heder 137 — O Ritual (2017), David Bruckner 136 — O Fotógrafo de Mauthausen (2019), Mar Targarona 135 — The Titan (2018), Lennart Ruff 134 — Pickpockets (2017), Peter Webber 133 — 15 de Agosto (2019), Swapnaneel Jaykar 132 — American Son (2019), Kenny Leon 131 — Amador (2018), Ryan Koo 130 — Crônicas de Natal (2018), Clay Kaytis 129 — O Date Perfeito (2019), Chril Nelson 128 — Steel Rain (2018), Yang Woo-seok 127 — Soni (2018), Ivan Ayr 126 — Missão no Mar Vermelho (2019), Gideon Raff 125 — The Discovery (2017), Charlie McDowell 124 — As Leis da Termodinâmica (2018), Mateo Gil 123 — Velvet Buzzsaw (2019), Dan Gilroy 122 — Mindhorn (2017), Sean Foley 121 — Farol das Orcas (2016), Gerardo Olivares 120 — Barry (2016), Vikram Gandhi 119 — Apostando Tudo (2017), Joe Swanberg 118 — 6 Balões (2018), Marja Lewis Ryan 117 — Mogli: Entre Dois Mundos (2018), Andy Serkis 116 — A Caminho da Fé (2018), Joshua Marston 115 — Fortuna Maldita (2018), Timo Tjahjanto 114 — Quem Você Levaria Para Uma Ilha Deserta? (2019), Jota Linares 113 — 4L (2019), Gerardo Olivares 112 — O Pacote (2018), Jake Szymanski 111 — Caninos Brancos (2018), Alexandre Espigares 110 — Next Gen (2018), Kevin R. Adams e Joe Ksander 109 — Step Sisters (2017), Charles Stone III 108 — Calibre (2018), Matt Palmer 107 — Árvore de Sangue (2019), Julio Medem 106 — Quatro Histórias de Desejo (2018), Zoya Aktar, Karan Johar e Dibakar Banerjee 105 — War Machine (2017), David Michôd 104 — FullMetal Alchemist (2017), Fumihiko Sori 103 — Operação Fronteira (2019), J. C. Chandor 102 — One Two Jaga (2018), Nam Ron 101 — Pequenos Delitos (2017), Evan Katz 100 — Rock My Heart (2019), Hanno Olderdissen 99 — O Natal de Angela (2018), Damien O’Connor 98 — Street Flow (2019), Kery James 97 — Hip-Hop Beats (2019), Chris Robinson 96 — El Potro: Lo Mejor Del Amor (2018), Lorena Muñoz 95 — 7 Ãnos (2016), Roger Gual 94 — Deidra e Laney Assaltam um Trem (2017), Sidney Freeland 93 — Roxanne Roxanne (2018), Michael Larnell 92 — Tal Pai, Tal Filha (2018), Lauren Miller Rogen 91 — Godzilla: O Devorador de Planetas (2018), Kobun Shizuno e Hiroyuki Seshita 90 — O Rei da Polca (2018), Maya Forbes 89 — Sonhos Imperiais (2014), Malik Vitthal 88 — Shaft (2019), Tim Story 87 — Bayoneta (2019), Kyzza Terrazas 86 — Illang: A Brigada Lobo (2018), Kim Jee-woon 85 — Maktub (2018), Oded Raz 84 — Rajma Chawal (2018), Leena Yadav 83 — Na Própria Pele – O Caso Stefano Cucchi (2018), Alessio Cremonini 82 — Nossas Noites (2017), Ritesh Batra 81 — Manhunt (2017), Andrew Sodroski, Jim Clemente e Tony Gittelson 80 — Fútil e Inútil (2018), David Wain 79 — A Noite nos Persegue (2018), Timo Tjahjanto 78 — Bird Box (2018), Susanne Bier 77 — Alex Strangelove (2018), Craig Johnson 76 — A Lavanderia (2019), Steven Soderbergh 77 — Pee-wee’s Big Holiday (2016), John Lee 74 — 1922 (2017), Zak Hilditch 73 — Minha Primeira Caçada (2018), Jody Hill 72 — Gun City (2018), Dani de la Torre 71 — O Mínimo Para Viver (2017), Marti Noxon 70 — Felicidade Por um Fio (2018), Haifaa Al-Mansour 69 — 22 de Julho (2018), Paul Greengrass 68 — Upstarts (2019), Udai Singh Pawar 67 — Gente de Bem (2018), Nicole Holofcener 66 — Lionheart (2018), Genevieve Nnaji 65 — Mudbound (2017), Dee Rees 64 — Apóstolo (2018), Gareth Evans 63 — O Último Capítulo (2018), Osgood Perkins 62 — Mademoiselle Vingança (2019), Emmanuel Mouret 61 — Joy (2019), Sudabeh Mortezai 60 — Seu Filho (2019), Miguel Ángel Vivas 59 — O Sono da Morte (2016), Mike Flanagan 58 — Inspire, Expire (2019), Ísold Uggadóttir 57 — Girl (2019), Lukas Dhont 56 — Blame! (2017) – Hiroyuki Seshita 55 — Wheelman (2017), Jeremy Rush 54 — Psychokinesis (2018), Yeon Sang-ho 53 — Elisa Y Marcela (2019), Isabel Coixet 52 — Juventude Assassina (2018), Isao Yukisada 51 — Bleach (2018), Shinsuke Sato 50 — Layla M. (2016), Mijke de Jong 49 — Sob a Pele do Lobo (2018), Samu Fuentes 48 — Paskal: Missão Resgate (2019), Cheng Kin-Kwok 47 — A Incrível Jessica James (2017), Jim Strouse 46 — High Flying Bird (2019), Steven Soderbergh 45 — O Plano Imperfeito (2018), Claire Scanlon 44 — A Sociedade Literária e a Torta de Casca de Batata (2018), Mike Newell 43 — Já Não Me Sinto em Casa Nesse Mundo (2017), Macon Blair 42 — Shirkers: O Filme Roubado (2018), Sandi Tan 41 — Amor por Metro Quadrado (2018), Anand Tiwari 40 — Jogo Perigoso (2017), Mike Flanagan 39 — Corpo e Alma (2017), Ildikó Enyedi 38 — Dumplin’ (2018), Anne Fletcher 37 — Cargo (2018), Yolanda Ramke e Ben Howling 36 — O Mundo é Seu (2018), Romain Gavras 35 — Para Todos os Garotos que Já Amei (2018), Susan Johnson 34 — Uma Terra Imaginada (2018), Yeo Siew Hua 33 — Tempestade de Areia (2016), Elite Zexer 32 — Dear Ex (2019), Mag Hsu e Hsu Chih-yen 31 — Legítimo Rei (2018), David Mackenzie 30 — Mais Uma Página (2018), Kagiso Lediga 29 — Divinas (2016), Houda Benyamina 28 — Uma Viagem à Groelândia (2016), Sébastien Betbeder 27 — Tempo Compartilhado (2018), Sebastián Hofmann 26 — Está Tudo Certo (2019), Eva Trobisch 25 — Dovlatov (2018), Aleksey German Jr. 24 — My Happy Family (2017), Nana Ekvtimishvili e Simon Gross 23 — O Pequeno Príncipe (2015), Mark Osborne 22 — A Mala e os Errantes (2017), Adam Leon 21 — Meu Eterno Talvez (2019), Nahnatchka Khan 20 — O Vazio de Domingo (2017), Ramón Salazar 19 — Durante a Tormenta (2019), Oriol Paulo 18 — A Noite de 12 anos (2018), Alvaro Brechner 17 — Os Meyerowitz: Família Não se Escolhe (2017), Noah Baumbach 16 — First They Killed My Father (2017), Angelina Jolie 15 — Um Homem de Sorte (2019), Lykke-Per 14 — Amizades Improváveis (2016), Rob Burnett 13 — O Outro Lado do Vento (2018), Orson Welles 12 — Paddleton (2019), Alex Lehmann 11 — Dezessete (2019), Daniel Sánchez Arévalo

10 — Pérolas no Mar (2018), Rene Liu

Em 2007, os universitários Jian-qing e Xiao-Xiao se conhecem em um trem que parte de Pequim para uma cidade do interior, onde ambos planejam passar o fim de ano. Os dois se apaixonam e começam a namorar. Anos depois, o filme mostra Jian-qing e Xiao-Xiao se encontrando de novo, dessa vez em um aeroporto. Com os voos atrasados, eles conversam sobre o que fizeram de errado no passado e o amor que ainda sentem um pelo outro.

9 — Okja (2017), Joon-ho Bong

A CEO de uma poderosa empresa informa ao mundo que uma nova espécie animal foi descoberta no Chile, o “superporco”. Para apresentá-lo ao mundo, a empresa envia 26 dos animais para diferentes países, onde devem permanecer por dez anos. Após o fim desse período, eles serão levados para Nova York. A jovem Mija cresceu ao lado de Okja, o superporco criado pelo avô, e está decidida a fazer de tudo para que o animal não seja tirado deles.

8 — Meu Nome é Dolemite (2019), Craig Brewer

Nos anos 1970, o comediante Rudy Ray Moore torna-se um sucesso entre a população negra norte-americana. Inserindo piadas sujas e palavrões nas histórias que ouve na rua, ele cria Dolemite, seu personagem mais famoso. Decidido a ampliar seus horizontes, Rudy resolve fazer um filme independente sobre Dolemite. Mas, além das complicações para gravar o longa, ele enfrenta dificuldades para exibi-lo no circuito comercial.

7 — O Rei (2019), David Michôd

Descontente com a realeza, o príncipe rebelde Hal dá as costas à vida real e decide viver entre os plebeus. Mas, com a morte de seu pai tirano, ele é coroado Rei Henrique V da Inglaterra, sendo forçado a viver no mundo que havia abandonado. Agora, o jovem líder terá que aprender a lidar com as pressões políticas, a guerra deixada por seu pai e seus conflitos pessoais. O filme é inspirado na peça “Henriad”, de William Shakespeare.

6 — Lazzaro Felice (2018), Alice Rohrwacher

Inspirado na história bíblica, o filme apresenta Lazzaro, um garoto muito bondoso e inocente. Apesar de ser explorado pelos familiares, ele estava satisfeito com a vida simples do campo. No entanto, após uma tragédia, Lazzaro acorda no Século 21. O rumo de sua história muda e ele começa uma jornada para reencontrar sua família e viver como antigamente.

5 — A Balada de Buster Scruggs (2018), Ethan e Joel Cohen

Trabalhando pela primeira vez com a Netflix, os famosos irmãos Coen idealizaram uma antologia faroeste. O filme reúne seis curtas com histórias diferentes, mas que ocorreram no mesmo local, a fronteira selvagem do velho oeste. Os episódios seguem os capítulos do livro fictício “A Balada de Buster Scruggs e Outros Contos da Fronteira Americana”.

4 — O Menino que Descobriu o Vento (2019), Chiwetel Ejiofor

Aos 13 anos, William Kamkwamba, do Malawi, ganhou fama em seu país em 2007, ao construir uma turbina de vento geradora de energia. A região onde William morava foi assolada por uma seca que devastou a plantação de sua família. Estudando sozinho e utilizando materiais improvisados, ele criou um projeto para fornecer água encanada e eletricidade ao seu vilarejo, privilégios aos quais a população do Malawi não tinha acesso.

3 — Mais Uma Chance (2018), Tamara Jenkins

Um casal na casa dos 40 anos tenta engravidar de várias formas. Sem sucesso, eles se submetem a várias fertilizações. Quando os recursos e opções parecem chegar ao fim, o aparecimento de uma sobrinha renova as esperanças do casal, que decide tentar novamente. Além disso, eles precisam cuidar da própria relação, que está abalada em meio a tantos acontecimentos.

2 — Beasts of No Nation (2015), Cary Fukunaga

Agu é uma criança que sofre com as consequências da guerra civil da África do Sul. Depois que seu pai é morto por militares, ele é obrigado a se tornar um soldado, abandonando a família para lutar no conflito. Para se transformar em um combatente, ele é instruído por um comandante, que o ensina as cruéis regras da disputa armada. O longa é baseado no livro homônimo do autor nigeriano Uzodinma Iweala.

1 — Roma (2018), Alfonso Cuarón

O filme foi inspirado na infância de Cuarón e conta a história de Cleo, uma jovem que trabalha como babá e doméstica de uma família de classe média, moradora do bairro Roma, na Cidade do México. Em um ano, acontecimentos inesperados afetam a rotina da família. Enquanto sua patroa, Sofia, sofre com o afastamento do marido, Cleo engravida do namorado, Fermín, que não quer assumir a criança.

Todos os filmes originais Netflix, classificados do pior ao melhor publicado primeiro em https://www.revistabula.com

[palmtreesx3]

ACT 5: Right On the Edge - Robin’s Chapter FINALLY COMING SOON!

SexShop!Steve x Reader : SexShop!Robin x OC

Summary: Steve and Robin have about had it with Hawkins, so on Robin's 25th birthday, the pair decides that there's nothing holding them there anymore and they start packing their bags. The friends move to Chicago and quickly find an apartment to call their own. As luck would have it, within hours of arriving to the city, Robin stumbles on a no-strings-attached job offer for both of them - what could be better?! Now just to break the news to Steve…. This multi part story will both explore their platonic relationship and their chaotic experience working at the sex shop together as well as their own paths of self discovery as they plant their roots in their new city and finally deal with the invisible baggage they drug along with them when they moved.

Warnings: Eventual smut (f/m, f/f and both m+f masturbation); a whole lot of sex talk, sex toys and NSFW topics; LGBTQ+ but in the late 80s/early 90s; inexperienced Robin; reformed King Steve; exploring topics or implied reference of ADHD and anxiety. Some non cannon in this AU but cannon themes and Easter eggs a-plenty. Chapter specific warnings will be included. 

Prologue 

The-V-Card 

Act 1: Foreplay - Aphrodisiac (Robin’s Chapter) 

Act 2: Exploration - Lube (Steve’s Chapter)

Act 3: Getting Lucky - Praise Kink (Robins Chapter) 

Act 4: Going All the Way - Queening (Steve’s Chapter)  

Act 5: Right on the Edge (Robin’s Chapter)

Act 6: Climax

Aftercare

Acts will be comprised of separate Steve and Robin-centric Chapters, but they will not be standalone stories. They are co-existing. Bits and bobs of Steve’s storyline and character development will occur during Robin-centric chapters and visa-versa. These two are co-dependent, just like our favorite guy and gal. 

Extras Below the cut!

Playlist

Click Here to get in the mood!

Mood Boards 

Prologue  

The-V-Card

Act 1: Foreplay - Aphrodisiac (Robin’s Chapter)

Act 2: Exploration - Lube (Steve’s Chapter)

Act 3: Getting Lucky - Praise Kink (Robin’s Chapter)

Act 4: Going All the Way - Latex (Steve’s Chapter)

Act 5: Right on the Edge - Edging (Robin’s Chapter)

Act 6: Climax

Aftercare

Blurbs 

Yeah, I know I’ll write these, too... I hav too many head-cannons already piled up for these two in this AU. Don’t hesitate to share your thots or questions with me on these two and you may get yourself a little freebie in your bag straight from the sex shop. 

*AU Note: Cannon events from their past are still laced in their character experience. Hawkins is weird and they have experienced Upside Down related events, however not to all characters you know and love. If characters exist in Chicago in this AU, they’re not connected to Hawkins. 

[palmtreesx3]

Act 4 - Going All the Way

Queening (Steve's Chapter)

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Series Masterlist

Get in the mood for this installment:

Series Playlist

Queening Mood Board

Summary: (10.6k)  Steve’s phone call with his dad does not go well, and the aftermath of that call impacts way more than Steve himself. Steve has to realize a few things, only one of which is that he’s got people there to pick him up when he’s down, but the most important is that relationships don’t have to be conditional. As everyone rallies behind Steve, a revelation comes in the form of a stranger on a bench, and that chance meeting starts a few wheels in motion behind Steve’s pretty head. Can he fix what he’s done when he was down and out? Can he patch things up? Is this the end of the road, or can he go all the way? Buckle up, and enjoy this angsty chapter of Get Off. 

Warnings: it's a sex shop and generally just NSFW so 18+. Heavier topics are explored, depicted or mentioned including prejudice and anti-gay bias, heavy binge drinking as escapism, depression and a blink of thinking better off dead, controlling parents, overstimulation and some dashes of neurotypical behavior you can catch if you blink slowly enough. There’s also the ongoing sexual innuendos and explicit discussion of body parts, as well as implied p+v intercourse, and the holy grail of pussyeating. 

"What the hell is going on, son?" his father's voice bellowed through the phone. "I just heard from a colleague that you're working in some... some pornographic store downtown! In town for business and he could have sworn he saw your lookalike walking into the place, but then you turned around and he knew it was my own flesh and blood. How goddamned embarrassing, Stephen. Do you know how embarrassing that conversation is to have over a business dinner?"

Steve winced at the tone his father took, a visceral response he’s had since childhood. A tone he knows well and somehow still cuts just as deep as it did when he was thirteen. "Dad, it's not like that. It's just a job. It’s…it’s retail, s’all it is" he stammered, attempting to diffuse the tension. To deflect. To play ball. 

His father scoffed, "Retail job? Don't play games with me. I've spent years paying for whatever you need, trying to get you scholarships for sports which you squander away with your shitty grades, and this is what you end up doing? Sitting on your ass for a few years and working in some seedy place, peddling who knows what!"

"It's not like that at all. It's just a store, and we sell lots of things, not…not just that stuff, Dad." Steve tries desperately to explain, slipping right back into it - the role of a boy trying to find any excuse to satiate a father that could never be pleased. Like the time he was a shameful teenage boy being told he’s worthless as he stood in the entryway of the house, barely over the threshold, all because he passed the ball and let Sammy Curtis sink the game winning shot instead of taking it himself.

"That stuff” he interrupts with a scoff. “Is this what I raised you for? I expected you to have a respectable career by now. Thought this move to the city was going to give you some fresh choices, not this... this filth!"

Steve was not ready for this. Half his hangover was still hanging on for dear life. Just a moment ago things were…not this complicated. He was eating a raw bagel talking about…you…with his friend. Even when that was the thing that felt complicated it wasn't really, was it? It was simple, and easy and… Now he’s struggling to find the words to defend himself, especially hard long-distance, though he also guesses he should be grateful it was - he wasn’t forced to see the rage and disappointment behind his father’s eyes this particular time."Dad, it's just a job. We needed work, and this opportunity came up. It doesn't define who I am. I just…it shouldn’t matter that much." 

“Just a job? Stephen? What do you mean just a job?” At that, Steve can hear his voice slip into a deeper register. He knows the face that goes along with this. He knows, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that his father is going to try and ruin his life. It’s not much of one, but it’s his, and he can just tell that he’s about ready to pull the rug out from under him. 

“You're 25, for God's sake! When are you going to get a real job, a job that befits the family name? Do you think your mother and I worked so hard for you to end up in some disgraceful position like this? Galavanting around a city and being a part in all this promiscuity. Goddamnit, at this rateI bet you even associate with the gays. Don’t you?"

He feels his body tense and wince as those words spill out of his fathers mouth. His eyes flit to his friend, sitting on the couch, legs tucked up under her and perched there watching one side of this debacle unfold like a deer in headlights. Forcing a smile at him, an awkward smile of encouragement, none the wiser about the hate his father is spewing about people like… about her. Tears welled up in Steve’s eyes thinking about it and Robin sees them - or at least she thinks she does - and her eyebrows furrow in concern. But before she can be sure, he turns around refusing to show his vulnerability right now even to her. He bites his lip to stifle the visceral response he had to his dad’s prejudices about his friend. "Dad, I'm doing my best. I'm trying to make a living and figure things out. It's not as easy as you think."

His father's tone softened with a hint of disappointment unlike the frustration and anger that has been flowing out of him since the minute Steve picked up the phone. In almost a plea, he says "You're embarrassing us, son. This is not the life I envisioned for you. You need to reconsider your choices and start acting like an adult."

After a brief silence, his father's voice returned, this time laced again with frustration - the softness that just fell was all an act. This is the hammer Steve was expecting, and it’s falling. Right now. "Enough of this nonsense. You're coming back home. I've arranged for a position for you in the firm. You'll start immediately. Stability, respect – those are the things you need. Not whatever you're doing in that disgraceful place."

Steve ran his free hand through his hair, shaking his head but not really knowing what to say. Dragging his hand back down his face, he felt a knot tighten in his stomach. The pressure to conform to his father's expectations had been a constant weight on his shoulders for his entire life and this is not the first time this conversation has been had. This time feels different though. Before he hadn’t had anything to call his own - not as much to lose. This stupid apartment and the life that they’re living, it’s been good. Maybe the best thing that he’s ever had. And it’s been his. Before, his dad just wanted control. This time, he wants to control him and strip him of the actual identity he’s been working so hard to understand and build. "Dad, I... I need some time to figure things out here. I can't just drop everything and come back."

His father's tone grew more insistent. "Time? You've had enough time, and look where it's gotten you – working in a place like that! It's time to put an end to this foolishness. You're coming back, and that's final."

Steve hesitated, torn between his desire for independence and the fear of his dad. He takes a deep breath and finally responds "I appreciate your concern, but I need to make my own choices. I can't just give up on everything I've built here."

"Built? You call this building a life? What have you accomplished, working in that... that den of immorality? Come home, and I'll set you on the right path. It's time you take responsibility for your future." 

As his father continued to insist, Steve’s yearning to forge his own path and avoid any that looks remotely like his fathers continues to intensify. He’s tuning out the insults at this point, desperate to find some sort of life raft to hold on to as he drowns in his fathers disappointments. It’s only then, that he finds it. The lifeline. The realization that he's got miles between him and his father now. He’s not coming home later to ground him or impose punishments on him. He isn’t relying on their money to pay bills. His mind is racing a mile a minute, and nothing…not one fucking thing he can land on points to any reason that he has to comply with his father. He isn’t depending on him for anything anymore, so why does he owe his dad anything at all?

"I'll think about it, Dad," And with that, he hangs up, knowing full well that he won’t think about it for another goddamn second. 

And that day, Steve called out of work. 

Robin couldn’t even argue with him. After the receiver hit the wall, she could tell that it was worse than she expected the minute he turned around and she could see his eyes glistening. She also was confused as fuck, because she swore she also saw him smirking just a little bit, but she was not going to poke the bear. She let him storm off and slam the door to his room. She didn’t bother him even though everything inside of her was screaming to go knock on the door and make him talk about it. Make him listen to her. She wanted to tell him he wasn’t anything that his father probably just said he was, but they’ve had this conversation before and…damnit she was working really hard at knowing boundaries - trying to read the room and figure out when she needs to shut up instead of rambling incessantly at all the wrong times. She thinks that this is one of those times that people need space, so she acquiesced. 

She makes a full pot of coffee, sets out some more food and the bottle of aspirin from the medicine cabinet and leaves it all out on the kitchen counter for Steve for whenever he emerges once she’s gone. Subtle. Not every way to help has to be in your face, she tells herself. I don’t need to meddle. He’ll let me know if he needs anything. Right?

Robin’s walk to work that day was quiet and dreary. The weather outside, overcast and air thick with that feeling that comes before the clouds break open and pour down on you. Seemed fitting. 

It took Robin five whole minutes after she got to work and put her stuff away before she meddled anyway. She picked up the phone once, and quickly set it down - thinking better of it. But immediately picked it back up against her better judgment and called you. As your answering machine picks up and your message plays, dripping with sarcasm and coyness asking your caller to leave a message after the beep, the realization hits then that she has no idea what your schedule is and it was a dumb idea to call you. Dumb dumb dumb. Steve’ll be pissed anyway. 

As the silence settles on the other end of the line Robin’s eyes widen in panic. She meant to hang up, call back later, pretend this didn’t happen at all and play it off as a wrong number. But she’s pretty fucking sure she just said that out loud instead of in her head. “Dumb dumb dumb. Steve’ll be pissed anyway.”

She hung up faster than the devil can fly, slamming down the phone and rattling the display case. The commotion drew Murry out from the back office, shirt pulled up and scratching at his stomach. “What’s got you all worked up Red? Little lost without your other half? Where is he anyway? Finally ruined his perfect attendance because of a wicked hangover, didn’t he? Make sure you tell ‘em he’s not eligible for the Perfect Attendance award this year, nowwww–ohhh something is off about this... What is it Red?.”

So for the next hour, Robin tries her best to summarize what it’s like to have the Harrington’s as parents and what just happened this morning. At least what she knew, because Steve hadn’t shared anything that his dad had said on the other end of that line. “Red, thank God you talk so fast, otherwise that story would have taken up your whole shift. Shit.”

That coaxes a chuckle out of Robin, which makes Murray smile. “Listen, that guy sounds like a Grade-A Asshole. No wonder Steve’s wound so tight…Makes so much sense actually. But this ain’t your fight. Steve’s gotta deal with this demon on his own and he has a funny way of showing it, but he knows where to find the people to help when he needs them. I’m sure of it. He’s not that fucking stupid.” 

“Yeah, see you’re wrong there Murray. He does absolutely think that he has to do everything on his own. Even when he knows we’re here, he won’t… he won’t ask for help. He won’t talk about it. He…thinks he deserves it.” 

It ended up being a slow day, not many people wandering the streets with the off and on drizzles happening all day long, so Robin used that time to bring Alex up to speed after she popped in the shop after work. 

Alex found the story surprisingly relatable. She grew up in a house with rich, successful parents just outside the city in the suburbs. Her parents hosted lavish dinner parties for business partners and she grew up in a way that seemed an awful lot like the Harrington house, other than the fact that they didn’t disappear on her for weeks on end. Her parents, however, were disappointed in her. Unlike Steve’s story, they were not pissed at her skill or her work ethic, her dreams or aspirations. No, they were pissed and disappointed at who was calling the house late at night and giggling on the other end of the phone. Who was picking her up for a night at the movies, or who she was driving off to meet under the swaying trees in the park. The boys she was dating were not good enough for the family - not a “strong enough merger of families” and then when she brought home a girl…well that was a horse of a different color all together. 

Five hours later, Robin and Alex are standing outside of their favorite pizza place in the neighborhood, thinking that a pie and some beers might just draw a sulking Steve out of his cave of self-loathing for the night. They haven’t heard from him all day, and Robin, despite thinking she should maybe let him be for a while, still decided to try and call home to check in on him. When he didn’t answer, Alex offered up a simple explanation, “Rob, he’s probably just sleeping it off, or not in the mood. It’ll be fine.”

Pies and six packs now acquired, they walk side by side the rest of the way back to the apartment, ready for whatever their friend might need. 

“Honey, we’re home!” Robin exclaims, as they barrel through the door. But she stops dead in her tracks seeing the counter laid out with all of the supplies, perfectly arranged exactly how she left them that morning. “Steve? Y’okay?”she shouts down the hallway, on her way to tap at his door before she hears Alex call her name from the living room, beckoning her to come. 

When she arrives, what she doesn’t expect to see are the crushed cans of High Life strewn all over the coffee table, an ashtray so full that she knew he had to blow through most of the pack he has tucked away from when they drink, and the half emptied bottle of Whiskey sitting at the foot of the couch. He didn’t even bother with a glass, she knew it. He spent the day trying to drink away the awful things that sorry excuse for a father said to him straight from the bottle. 

His shoes - the Chucks, the ones he’s been wearing lately - they’re not by the door. Neither is his jacket, so she knows he left and went somewhere. 

But then a high pitched beeping sings from the kitchen, and Robin immediately knows that Steve’s Tamagotchi is hungry…he left, but he forgot his keys. That stupid drunk idiot got locked out. 

All the strings Robin has been holding together all day come loose. They unravel like a dangling thread on a handknit sweater and Alex is pretty sure she hadn’t taken one breath since she started rambling. “Ohmygoddoyouthinkhe’sokay? Whatifsomethinghappenedtohim? Ican’tlivewithmyself. Howdoweevenfindhim? OhmygodI’mgonnahavetotellthekidshe’smissing. Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck.” 

“Robin.” Alex calmly speaks.

“Ifhe’sdeadI’mblaminghisdad,Isweartogodhe’sasgoodasadeadmanhimself” 

“Robin.”

“Jesus,weshouldcallthehopsital? Ormaybethepolice. Yeahwegottacallsomeone. Ohmygod.”

“ROBIN!” Alex finally screams, two hands on her shoulders now shaking her into some sense of reality. “You’re spiraling. You can’t be spiraling. We have to think.”

“Yeah. Yeah. You’re right. I’m sorry, I’m just….”

“Rob, I know you’re worried. We’ll figure it out. Okay?” Alex slides her hand along Robin’s cheek, around her neck and tugging her in for a deep hug, trying to get her to reset, regroup…focus. “Babe, first thing….why do you think he would leave?”

Pulling back, she assesses the situation. Eyes darting around the apartment, closing her eyes so she could think. Just then they pop open looking at the mess on the coffee table. The beer. That was the last of the beer. 

“He was out…” she whispers. “I bet he ran out of beer. That was all we had, and it looks like he polished it off.”

“Okay then. Let’s go for a walk. Check some places where he might get some beers - maybe the corner store you guys go to? See if anyone has seen him, okay? Sound good babe?” Alex’s tone is cool, calm. Her eyes are caring and concerned not just for Steve but also for Robin. She’s being so soft, and even in her panicked haze, Robin notices. 

“Al…Thank you. I needed that.”

With a soft kiss on her temple, Alex grabs Robin’s hand and tugs her towards the door. “Now don’t forget your keys, either, you maniac. Let’s go.”

It’s three pit stops and two meltdowns from Robin on the sidewalk curb later that they find him. It’s honestly the first place they should have looked, but at least they were on the right track. 

Steve did, in fact, get raging pissed that he was out of beer. The cashier they recognize, but don’t know his name, told them as much - mentioned that their friend came in angry and stumbling, grabbed a pack of beer and left it in the middle of the aisle when he rushed out of the store grumbling to himself. It seems as though dear Stevie also forgot his wallet. 

The next place they thought to look was The Hideout. Robin thought that maybe he’d come looking for her, begging for some cash so he could replenish his stash. Pay no mind to the fact that it was past closing for a weeknight and Robin was long gone, at this point they were absolutely certain Steve had no idea what time it even was. Half expecting to see him leaning on the door of the shop, or passed out in a slump on the front stoop, when they came up empty handed again Robin needed to cry.

Head in her hands, leaning on her knees as she sits on the curb, Alex tries to stifle a laugh at how splotchy faced and snotty her beautiful girl is right now. “Baby,” she says, pushing back her hair “Baby…let’s think, kay? is there anywhere else Steve feels safe in this city? Who else does he feel safe with other than you?”

The revelation comes quickly. 

Head popping up with a renewed sense of confidence in their search for their missing and probably sloppily drunk friend “I bet he’s at Bennys.” 

And after a 10 minute walk that is the most silent Robin Buckley has ever been in her entire life, she lets out a breath that she may or may not have been holding the entire time when the door to Benny’s swings open and she takes in Steve with his forehead on the bar. Hopper is standing behind the bar polishing glasses with an irritated scowl and right in front of Steve stands a Joyce, hand right on top of his with sad, concerned eyes that flit right to the girls who just sounded the bell. 

Pitiful. The look Joyce was giving him was pity. And if Steve were coherent enough to realize it, he would be completely ashamed to be receiving it from anyone. Steve was shitfaced drunk out of shame and disappointment and whatever feelings of inadequacy he was shielding away from everyone else in his life, but at least he was safe. Thank Christ he had the decency to come to Benny’s, where at least Joyce would take care of him - make sure he doesn’t do anything else stupid. 

“Steve!” Robin yells, rushing over to his side “Steve, we didn’t know where you were. And you left your keys. I was so worried. We thought you were dead, I swear….well I thought you were dead. Alex was much more rational, but…” 

A groan falls from Steve’s throat as their attention turns to Joyce. She opens her mouth to speak but Hopper interjects before she could even get a word out. 

“Your buddy here is a fucking mess. He’s lucky this is Rick’s third stop on his daily tour of downtown dive bars. Recognized the bastard and drug him over here after he got kicked out of wherever they were before this. I honestly don't know where. Ricky’s always so drunk I probably shouldn't even be serving him by the time he gets here anyway.``

“Steve, honey.” Joyce’s honey soft voice stirs him “Your girls are here. Rob and Alex, they’re here for you, baby. Let them help you, okay? Y’cant stay here like this.” She says as she rubs his hair back and tries to soothe him awake. 

“He’s been drinking straight ginger ale for at least an hour. He thinks it's mixed with whiskey but I just couldn't. It was easier than him and Hop arguing ‘bout it.” she says under her breath, just out of his earshot. 

After agreeing to let him sweat it out for a bit longer, Joyce passes the girls a drink while they wait and slides another ginger ale in a rocks glass in front of Steve with a wink.  With soft voices they talk about what has unfolded today just loud enough to hear each other over the din of the jukebox playing “Hunger Strike” in the background. 

Shit. 

As she hears the deep roll of his voice on Eddie Vedder’s verse she’s reminded of you, and remembers the cryptic message she most likely left you on your answering machine. Even though the boy is sitting there in the flesh in front of them, his eyes now open enough to see the whites of them, his stare is vacant and he hasn’t looked this way since… well. Ever. Robin has seen him through some pretty serious shit, and he’s never looked quite this detached. 

“I’m worried about him, girls.” Joyce coos. 

With a nod in agreement, she asks for the only thing she can think to do next. “Joyce, can I use your phone? I gotta call someone who might be able to help.”

Alex’s eyes go wide and she winces, “You sure that’s a good idea, Rob? I mean, I see where you’re going with this, but he’s gonna be pissed, isn’t he?’

Seeing the look of confusion on Joyce’s face, Robin grabs the phone and continues “It’s..a girl. He’s fine. It’ll be fine. I don’t care if he’s pissed about it at this point. We need help and… I might have already left her a message earlier in a panic. Oh - Hey!” interrupted in her rambling as you answer the phone on the first ring. “Yeah, yeah I’m so sorry about that weird message earlier. It’s been a… day - a real bad one. We need some help. We’re at Benny’s, and…it’s just - Steve. We need help with Steve, can you come?”

Of course you will. You were there to help as soon as you could. And just like Robin and Alex assumed, Steve was pissed. 

“I'm just saying Stevie, you didn't have to be so mean to her. She came because I called. Didya really expect the two of us to be able to drag your sorry ass home without calling in reinforcement? Have you seen my arms? They're basically twigs!”

“I wasn't trying to be mean to her. It was you guys. I was pissed you called her…cause I didn't… It's embarrassing. She didn't need to see me like that. I know you were trying to help. You can barely carry a damn grocery bag, so I get it, its just… I was pathetic.”

“Well. You said it, I didn't.” Robin shrugs, kicking her feet up on the stool next to her by the register. It's been a few days and they're at least able to poke fun a little bit at the whole thing. Steve and Rob had a long talk after he was able to shake off a two day long hangover that he spent in the dark, shades drawn - crackers and some Pedialyte by his bedside. 

Steve eventually spilled his guts to Robin on the fire escape while she smoked, his throat still too sore from the pack he inhaled in his drunken rage that day. He wouldn't even look at her when he told her about how his dad was talking about… her. Told her that there's been a lot of terrible, downright rude things that his dad has done and said over the years that he's made an excuse for or ignored, but that…that disregard, that intolerance he showed for someone that Steve cared about. That when it comes down to it, Steve loved. That was the last straw. He couldn't turn a blind eye anymore. 

He didn't feel he owed his dad an explanation. If he really thought Steve would show up this weekend with his bags and his Beamer ready to put on a suit and head to the office alongside his dad on Monday, he has another thing coming. 

Murray saunters into the storefront then “Before I finalize this schedule, ya sure you're gonna show up on Monday, dude? Last chance to turn in your notice and go shadow daddy dearest, because if you no call no show me on this schedule next week consider this bridge burned.”

“No way in hell, Murray. I'm fully committed to your dick shop. I'll sell anything you dream up over spending one hour in a building full of pricks like my dad. Don't care how much the salary is or how big the guilt trip.” 

“Well in that case, Steve, it sounds to me that where your dad works is the real dick shop, huh? We…deal only in one way tickets to pleasure town here.” 

“Touche” Steve gives Murray a pow pow with his finger guns before walking through the dangling beads hanging at the entrance to the break room. 

Emerging twenty minutes later (and five minutes late from his break) Steve is unsurprised to find Alex spread across the length of the couch. “What are you two assholes doing?” 

“Hi Alex, thanks again for saving my life and ensuring I don't die in a ditch or need my stomach pumped from alcohol poisoning and ensuring that my most magnetic and caring roommate and best friend didn't have a stroke while I was missing. It's nice to see you again. I am forever in your debt.” Alex mocks with a deep voice meant to imitate his while Robin cackles, slapping her thighs. 

“Smash or pass” she deadpans. “Julia Roberts.”

“Pass” Steve and Robin say in unison. 

“Really?” Alex pops up in surprise. 

“I guess I just don’t get the appeal with that one. I like her movies, though, just…don’t wanna see her bush. No rolling in the hay with her for me.” Robin says very matter of factly. 

“Yeah, for me” Steve quips pointing right at Robin. “Reminds me too much of this asshole right here. Can’t even think about it.” 

Madonna. Demi Moore. Sharon Stone. Liv Tyler was a unanimous smash. An hour went by throwing out names and shouting out whether or not they were fuckable before Alex’s bisexual ass snuck in Brad Pitt.

“Bleh, pass. That's a dick.”

“Smash.” Steve's eyes go wide. Did he just…

“Stevie boy, did you just smash Brad Pitt?” Alex is literally on the edge of her seat at this point. Robin's jaw is just about on the floor. He's waving her off “That…that's not.. I mean. If I were I guess…he’s a good looking guy, s’all I’m saying.”

 “You would like the golden boy type shit. I'm more of a ruggedly handsome older man kinda bisexual. I bet you'd smash Patrick Swayze too, handsome. UNLESS…are we talking Interview with a Vampire long hair type Pitt because…”

“This is too much for me!” Robin is shouting as she starts pacing. 

“Robbie, I’d expect a little more tolerance from you. I’m disappointed.” Steve pokes fun. “Anyway, you do have the late shift today, so I’ll save you from thinking about me boning Brad Pitt and get out of here.”

“Ew. Steve. No. You and Pitt? You’re definitely bottom. He’s batter dipping the corn dog, not you.”

Raising his middle finger in the air, he gestures behind him to the girls as he walks out the door. 

After grabbing a coffee, Steve swings into the record store to browse for some new vinyls. The guy at the front desk is starting to get to know Steve, and he likes that the guy is comfortable enough to make recommendations or pulls a vinyl or two to save for next time Steve comes in. It makes him feel memorable. He’s little more than guy at the record store to Steve, but yet guy at the record store cared enough to think about him and what he might like even when he’s not here. 

It’s stuff like this, that he hasn’t really experienced until he moved here to the city, that makes Steve feel less than insignificant. Who would have thought that coming to a city filled to the brim with more people than he knows what to do with would make him feel more seen than a small town where everyone knows your name ever did. 

He grabs his bag, filled with three new recommendations from guy at the record store, and he’s heading for the door before the cashier yells out “Oh damn, bro. I almost forgot. Someone left this for you. It’s already paid for, so don’t worry about it, but she said you gotta hear this one.” Steve reaches out to grab the bright red sleeve and turns it over twice before slipping it into his bag. “Yeah thanks dude. See ya around.” 

He lies to himself when he thinks that the brisk pace he is walking on his way home is because the nights are turning colder in the city and he wants to get home. He lies to himself a second time when he says he wants to keep moving so he takes the stairs two at a time instead of waiting on the elevator. He lies to himself for a third time, pretending that he’s not really in a rush even though he doesn’t take off his shoes and jacket before he makes a beeline right for his record player all while unwrapping that vinyl he knows that you left for him. 

The whirring of the player and the zap of the scratching needle connecting with the plastic make his brain start to buzz and he’s done lying to himself when he thinks that he was so fucking stupid when he shouted at you - drunk out of his mind or not, he has been expecting you to never speak to him again, so…you leaving this for him might just mean…

In the time of chimpanzees I was a monkey

Butane in my veins and I'm out to cut the junkie

With the plastic eyeballs, spray-paint the vegetables

Dog food stalls with the beefcake pantyhose

What the fuck did she leave me? He thinks, as he lets the record spin and listens, patiently. Waiting for the hook. Waiting for the bass drop. Waiting for those deep drum rhythms he likes so much. Waiting for the lyrics that are supposed to hit home.

Oh. 

Soy un perdedor

I'm a loser baby, so why don't you kill me?

(Double-barrel buckshot)

“Maybe I should just move home and take a stupid job with my dad like he’s been telling me to do since junior year of high school.”

Murray hears the boy complaining as he walks through the door with three giant boxes stacked on top of one another. “Casanova. Hey!” Setting them down he snaps both his fingers right in Steve’s face “We’ve been over this… focus on my dick shop, not your dads. I got new goods, get your sweet ass over here.”

He waves Steve and Robin over to the front window, and they dutifully follow. Ripping open the boxes with a rusty pocket knife he pulls from his tube sock, Murray rambles about the boxes filled with a new Latex fashion line he was checking out at the expo. He shoos Steve off to grab the mannequins from the back storage room so they can set up the window display. “Make sure to grab the dudes with the biggest packages back there, Stevie-boy!” before looking at Robin curiously, asking her to spill the details and explain the pivot back into full on self-loathing Steve took. 

“Ah, the lady friend? She gave him that? Sassy. I think I like her. If he doesn't want her…” wiggling his eyebrows, Murray is quickly cut off as Steve re-enters the floor.

“Doesn’t want who?’ Steve says, male mannequin under each arm. 

“Oh, nothing. I gotta go get some lunch. I’ll grab the plastic girls on my way back in and you two can play dress up.” 

“Hey Stevie, whaddya think?” Robin’s got one of the black latex outfits held out in front of her as she tries anything but effortlessly shaking her hips to the beat of the song playing overhead on the speakers. The would-be seductive dance is cut off when her face lights up, running off to the break room with the package in hand.

“I don’t like that look Robbie. What are you doing?”

Shaking the beads dangling from the door frame to announce her re-entry, Steve’s eyes glance up before doing a double take. Robin stood there, leaning into the wall looking as casual as she possibly can (which isn’t that casual, honestly), standing in a full head to toe black latex catsuit. If Steve could have, he would have taken a polaroid if not just to gift to Alex as a thank you, or apology. Whatever she needs most from him - he’s not too sure at this point. Robin arches her back like she’s posing for a centerfold and it’s not long before the two of them are deep in a fit of laughter from her antics. 

Except something goes wrong. The fit of laughter soon lets up, but Robin still can’t catch her breath. Steve is breathing deep, grinning again and shaking his head at her, and while she’s happy she’s coaxing out a laugh and a smile she hasn’t seen from him in over a week, her chest is getting tighter by the second. 

Looking at his friend's pallid face, his eyes dart around thinking while she starts wheezing for air. “Rob…are you...you’re not allergic to latex, are you?”

She shakes her head no adamantly but quickly backtracks, realizing that no, she can’t be sure she’s not allergic to latex. Holding up her hands between the two of them, her wrists are ballooning up around the seam of the catsuit sleeves, body swelling up making the suit stretch over her skin even tighter. She starts to claw at it, trying to get it off, but it’s so slippery and tight, and suctioned to her sweaty skin that it won’t budge and her panicked expression locks on to Steve’s. 

“You didn’t know you were allergic to latex? What the fuck Robbie?” 

“When was I supposed to find out, huh? Not like I’ve been carrying around condoms since I was 15 like you, you asshole!”

“So what…that’s not… What about a balloon? Haven’t you ever been around a fucking balloon before, Rob?”

“Steve, I'm poor. We didn’t buy balloons for birthday parties. I didn’t get….extra…shit. I…no. I can’t remember …ever having a…. balloon.” She’s sucking in breaths between words as much as she can. “Steve, help. It’s….I can’t…”

Walking down the street, Murray is on his way back from grabbing his sandwich, when he spots the flashing lights on the street ahead. What he doesn’t expect is to see those flashing lights belonging to an ambulance pulled up outside of his store. Dropping his sandwich into the grimey gutter, he’s absolutely dumbfounded at the sight before him - Robin laid out on the stretcher, clearly naked and covered with a white sheet and his new inventory in shreds on the sidewalk after the paramedics had to cut it off of her. “Oh for fucks, sake. I didn’t literally mean you should play dress up, Red.” 

It takes the paramedics another 20 minutes to get her settled and breathing from an oxygen tank in the back of the rig and explain the situation to Murray and Steve. Her reaction was bad, so they should expect her to be down and out for at least three days until the swelling goes down and she can recover her breathing enough to function normally. Murray storms off into the store grumbling about Workers Comp paperwork and throwing his hands in the air while Steve stays back, readying himself to climb into the back of the rig and ride with his friend before she stops him. 

“Listen, dude. I’m clearly not gonna be home tonight, and you don’t need to worry about me. Don’t you dare think you’re gonna sit and keep watch at my bedside. This is definitely the only time in my life my tits will look this big, so I’m not about to invite you in. Alex gets clear first dibs before the swelling goes down.” 

Steve grimaces, scrunching his nose up in disgust “Ew, gross Robbie. Stop talking to me about your tits.” 

“Whatever. All I’m saying is, maybe take advantage of the empty house? I know she sent you a message loud and clear with that record but I still don’t buy that she won't give you a shot to explain. Call her. Please?” 

All he can do is nod as she pats his hand and smiles. He backs away so they can close up the rig and watches as they pull off, lights flashing with his swollen raspberry of a friend in tow. 

Murray ends up closing the shop early that night, saying he’s had it up to here with both of them and he just wants to go see Hop and Joyce for an ice cold drink. Before Steve could even respond, Murray’s finger is in his face “NO. You’re not invited this time, buddy. I don’t wanna see your face until tomorrow. And you have the late shift. I don’t wanna close and I think you two owe me.”

“Owe you?! What the heck, I didn’t do anything, man. Robin, she is the one that -”

“No, you listen here. Your moping and loathing is getting irritating. I like you, unfortunately. I’m not sure why, but I like you Steve, and you’ve been fucking annoying since you let your dad get in your head. And whatever is going on with this lady friend, you better fix it.” He pokes Steve right in the chest - hard.

“Is she a girl, or a woman, Steve?” he says, and Steve remembers their chat about Steve’s choices. Why they never seem to work out and how he keeps going for the wrong kind. 

“She’s … she’s a woman. Obviously. She doesn’t want to put up with my bullshit.”

“Fix it, Steve. Thank me later.” 

He had two beers before he worked up the nerve to pick up the phone. He probably would have had another, but he thought better of it considering the last time he saw you. More like the last time you saw him because he doesn’t fucking remember a lick of it. An apology probably wouldn’t go over very well if he was shitfaced again all because he needed some liquid courage to get the balls to call you up. 

It took three, long, agonizing rings for you to pick up, your voice suddenly some sort of beacon in the night for him. He was silent for a beat too long, and just when you went to hang up muttering “whatever asshole, prank call someone else next time” he finally was able to whisper out your name just loud enough that it traveled through the phone line and made it to your ears. 

“You got my record?” 

“Yeah.”

“And?”

“I deserved that… and it’s actually good.”

“I know.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You should be.”

“I know. Can I see you?”

And to his surprise, you agreed. You asked him to meet you outside, so you can walk to the cafe together. Promised in a way that had him believing it would all be fine - that you’ll figure it out from there. So he’s sitting on the bench outside of his building waiting, legs bouncing up and down uncontrollably mind weight down from anticipation, nerves and his least favorite piece of baggage, self-doubt. 

“You look like you’re waiting on something, boy. Don't wait too long, or you’ll end up looking like me and still never finding what you’re lookin’ for, ya know?”

Steve chuckles and nods. He thinks he does know. And God, he doesn’t want to spend his life chasing an idea and running away every time he gets close because he’s sure he’s not good enough for it. He doesn’t want to be sitting on a bench when he’s 80 lamenting about how he used to look good, had the good hair before it all fell out and turned gray, would get the girls and throw the parties, could pound back a six pack like it’s no big deal, how he was the former Keg King - King Steve. Like that all means anything at all. None of it did. It was all bullshit. 

“I’m Steve” he says, holding his hand out and reaching across the bench. The man reaches out accepting his grasp and introduces himself as Robert.“You live here too?” he nods back at the apartment building. 

“Sure do. Me and my little rascal Dart.” and Steve notices the small dog laying quietly at the man’s feet. 

“What you said before…I am waiting on something. Someone actually. But…I think I’m mostly waiting on myself.” 

“Ah, yes. That’s the age old problem innit? We’re always late to our own party. Been in this city for decades and it’s all the same. Young kids like you are lost until they find what they’re looking for, but some of ‘em, they never find it. No one leads ‘em to it and they forget that it’s even worth lookin’ for along the way.” 

Steve nods, a little solemnly, at the wisdom the old man is sharing. Resonating just a bit closer to home than the old man probably knows. But then he sees a flash of you from down the sidewalk, your jacket wrapped tight around your body, a tentative smile on your face when you see Steve waiting for you like he promised. 

“Ah,” the man laughs a hearty laugh. “She looks like she’s worth waiting for though, my boy. You should go.” 

“Maybe I’ll see you around.” Steve says with a bright smile, and it’s genuine. Maybe she's worth it? Or Maybe Steve will see the old man again. He's not sure which he meant, actually. Maybe…both. 

The walk to the cafe seems to go on for eons. After an interaction teetering on awkward, feet pushing at invisible rocks on the pavement and tentative smiles, you both head in that direction side by side, stealing glances for a block or two before either one breaks the silence.

It seems like both of you have let the dull drone of the city take up enough space in the night and you finally speak up at the same time. 

“I am sorry for being such a mess.”

“I'm sorry for being a bitch.”

“No. No.” You cut him off. “Yeah you're right. You were a mess and you were kind of a dick about it. I'm not gonna excuse that. But you were a mess, and Robin and Alex were worried for good reason, obviously. You were a mess because something happened and I can't be mad at that. I can be frustrated with how you handled yourself…how you treated people who were just there to fucking help you, man, but at the end of the day, you were going through some shit and…I held it against you instead of helped. And then I got you that record and…”

“I…yeah I should not have drank my problems like that. I shouldn't have. I was an idiot. I am an idiot. That song is…not that far off. Might be my theme song, actually.” He holds back a small laugh to himself. “I do stupid shit. That's not new. But…I wasn't mad at anyone until -”

“You sure seemed mad, Steve.”

“I was…it's just. I guess I'm realizing now I wasn't actually mad at anyone but myself and my dad until you showed up.”

“Correct. You made that loud and clear.”

“Oh. I -” silence falls over them for a few steps, Steve finally looking over at you in a way that makes you feel like he's looking into you not at you this time. “I think I finally understand. Can…can I try and explain? Once we get there?”

You nod. And you let him. 

Like a floodgate, the honesty Steve holds back on a regular basis flows out the minute he starts. Tucked in the back corner of the cafe, a steaming hot chai in front of you, a black coffee with cinnamon and nutmeg there in front of him, he tells you how growing up actually felt for him. Not just the my dad is an asshole version but how it really affected him. He says it out loud and admits the way his dad made him feel. Tells you stories about all the sports and the winning and the popularity that was never what he wanted anyway. Tells you how his dad has spent his whole life grooming him to be a mini-version of Mr Harrington, and that's the absolute last thing in the world he wants to be. He just wants to be Steve - whoever that is. 

And he cries. He cries when he tells you about the phone call. You notice it's not at the mean things his dad says to him, the names he's called or the put downs about his life that break him down - it's when he tells you about the disdain in his dads voice when he berates him about being friends with the gays. How he couldn't look at Robin after the way his dad talked and how he felt more shame in that moment than any other. Not ashamed that he’s friends with Robin. Not in a million years, but more from the idea that his dad - no anyone - would be lucky to find a friend half as good as Robin is, so who the fuck cares who she loves, right? Jesus Christ. Shame that someone he loves has to live in a world where people like his dad exist. 

You both need a refill before he can get through the hard part, though, the part where he hurt you. Steve motions to your empty cup asking if he can get you more and before you know it, comes back a short time later with two new steaming mugs and plates of assorted pastries and snacks balancing on top. I didn't know what you'd like, so I got it all. 

Something tells you that even if you don't actually say it, Steve would know for next time. He'd know that you're a sucker for their blondies and like to snack on their homemade caramel corn because even as he's spilling his guts he's paying attention to you, and from here on out every time you meet Steve Harrington at the cafe, he'd have your drink and a plate with a blondie on it waiting for you every single time. 

Then, Steve tells you about that day. About how he remembers chain-smoking inside the house and how he knew Robin would fuck me up for it but I didn’t care. He recalls for you how he sat on the sofa with the whiskey bottle muttering to himself about the things his dad said, trying to figure out why this man thinks he can still push his grown son around. He tells you he remembers leaving to get another 6-pack when he ran out but that was the last of it. He doesn't remember much of anything or how he got to Benny's. Hop had told him, and he makes sure to remind him every time he's seen him since that he was pitiful watching Steve being drug in by the drunkest man on the block. Never thought I'd see the day anyone was more drunk than goddamn Rick, boy. Sure proved me wrong. 

And when he gets to the part where his friends show up, when you show up, he looks downright ashamed and worried. With a deep sigh, falling from his lips, he tells you that the next and only other thing he remembers from that night was you walking through the door. With his head lain on the bar, vision completely sideways, what he saw was a fucking angel walking into the bar. Thought he was hallucinating or maybe even finally out of his misery and you were coming to bring him towards the light, until his brain made you right side up and he realized who it was. 

He didn’t remember the yelling, but Robin told him later how big of a douchebag he was when all he did was start yelling at you and making one hell of a scene. Hearing Robin tell him about how he shouted and asked in such an accusatory tone What are you doing here? made him wonder if he was no better than his dad in the first place. Sounded an awful lot like him in the moment, at least. 

You think he looks like a kicked puppy as he explains the rest. “I - I don't expect you to say anything. Or do anything. I don't expect you to forgive me or…” running his hands through his hair you can tell he's trying to pluck up some semblance of courage. 

“The thing is, I was mad when my drunk brain finally registered that you were there, and you were there to help. Because I didn't want that. Help sure…I fucking needed help. You saw me. But you….” His swallow is so loud it's audible. 

“I was embarrassed I didn't want you to see me like that. I… “

Reaching across the table you gently touch his forearm and it gives him enough courage to finish what he has to say. 

“I didn’t want you to see me like that, because I like you too much…Like, the real kind. And I feel so stupid saying it out loud, because I thought that if I showed you how broken I was, you’d see that I wasn’t worth it. Maybe you don’t think I am in the first place and that’s fine I can be just your friend. S’probably all I deserve, honestly.” 

He chances a look at you just then, and when it’s not a scowl or indifference he feels safe rough to continue. “Before I didn’t know why I was being such a jerk and I figured it was just because - I am a Harrington, after all. But, I understand why I did it now. I understand that even though I did it wrong, I was trying to protect you from me, and I was trying to protect myself from… ”

Scooting your chair closer to Steve, you push his wild and windswept hair back so you can see him even when his head is hanging low. His eyes flit up to yours and there’s no pity in your eyes. He was expecting pity at the very least, but it’s not there.

“Steve, who says I need to be protected? Especially from you?”

He doesn’t expect your fingers to find his on the walk away from the cafe. He doesn’t expect your touch to be soft. He doesn’t expect it to stay longer than a second - maybe just the gift of something fleeting. But it is. It does. Your fingers hook into his and they don’t pull away, holding on to him and his limp hand before he can even process what he’s being given. Fingers hooked and coaxing him to just let go and embrace it. Fingers he accepts as he laces his with yours, and they stay that way for the entire walk back to his apartment. 

—-

A nod of the head with a huge grin spread across his face, Robert welcomes Steve back to the building, still perched on the same bench he walked away from a few hours ago. Maybe Dart needed to go out again, or maybe Robert never left, but in that moment, Steve thought about everything the old man said to him earlier. He’s done with waiting. Waiting has gotten him nowhere. Hiding his feelings has gotten him nowhere. The only person standing in his way is himself. 

Your name falls from his lips softly, but there’s something there that wasn’t there earlier in the shop. It’s more sure of himself, almost confident. The predictable thing to come next was a goodnight kiss on his front stoop, and you’re thinking that maybe after all this time and him finally admitting that he’s into you, you’ll get what you’ve been wanting since that night in the back seat of the cab, or when you felt your tummy flip sitting across from him eating that ice cream. Poised to lift up on your toes to close the distance, instead he surprises you when he tugs your arm and pulls you inside the front door to his building with a grin. 

And you got that kiss. Oh God, did you get it. 

When the door closed to their apartment, Steve turned around to look at you. There was a heat behind his eyes as he slid your coat off of your shoulders for you, and a yearning hiding there when he looks up at you from below as he crouches down to help you slip off your shoes. Rising back up in front of you he’s close. So close that his lips are just barely apart from yours and the heat of his breath tickles your cheeks. The pair of you are so close that there’s barely any space between your bodies when you suddenly find your back pressed up against the door behind you. 

Lips finally touching, slow and just barely you breathe out “Robin…” 

“That’s not my name, honey.”

And you laugh. A sweet thing that makes Steve’s insides twist and turn.

“She won’t be home tonight. There was some latex…She’s fine. I’ll explain later.”

The kiss you finally get is sloppy, but in the best way. There’s no time for chaste kisses here, pillowy lips slotted together and moving effortlessly between one another. He adjusts your chin with the tips of his fingers so that he can gently caress the line of your jaw, following it back down and up again as he slides his fingers through the base of your hair. His grip there is tight, but not painful, Possessive but not overwhelming. It’s like he’s got something he wants so desperately and he’s afraid to let it go. 

He gently touches your upper lip with the tip of his tongue, coaxing you open further for him, letting his tongue follow the outlines of your teeth before letting his dance together with yours. He lets out a small sigh as you continue to nip at each other's lips and play with how you both respond to one another's kiss. The sigh makes your mouth crack open in a smile, cheeks drawing up with the grin and encouraging his kisses to explore elsewhere. Small pecks start on the corner of your mouth and then your cheeks, right on the apple of them as their pulled taught by your smile. 

Moving down towards your jaw, your neck, they get more and more salacious the lower they get. Red and pricking, a bruise is blooming at the spot on your neck just under your ear where he settles in to suck and kiss at your skin while the whimper that falls from your lips as he does it and your fingertips running through his hair and scratching at his scalp keep him grounded - barely capable of holding it together as is. 

When you ask him what he wants, the answer he gives you is not one you expected. Sure you expected him to want to dote on you - after all, he’s attentive like that on any given day, so Steve being a giver in the sheets was almost…a given? But when his gasping breaths punctuate each word that comes out of his mouth Can you … I want you to ride my face? was a pleasant surprise. 

Now surprising him, you not only agreed, but were confident about it. “Always wanted this. No…no one would let me.” He tells you as he breathes into you, chest heaving, foreheads touching. He barely notices as you pull the top of your dress down and work it over your shoulders, then the swell of your breasts. He only registers your exposed skin as you guide his hands down to your waist so he can hold you steady as you step out of it. 

Coaxing him backwards towards the sofa, you tap his shoulder and tell him to sit down on the floor, back against the furniture, as you make a show of removing your bra. He does as you ask, unable to tear his eyes away from your supple skin and perfectly peaked nipples, making a mental note that later he absolutely has to get his mouth on them. As you shimmy down your underwear in front of him, you pause to add a kiss to the top of his head before dropping the garment directly in his lap.

He bunches them up in his hand, sliding them into his front pocket for later as you settle over him, “Y’know…they call this Queening?” perched there on your knees, you’re fully undressed and slotted above his face so casually. 

“Mmmm. Makes sense.” He says, against the seam of your pussy and your thighs, making you vibrate with his words and his gentle hum. 

“R’mind me to tell you why one day.”

“Mmmmhmm. Sure thing.” In a haze, he reaches around you, fingers digging into your supple ass and pulling you closer. Forward and over, just where he wants you. The perfect position where he can use both his mouth and his nose - just like Robin told him he should.  Head moving subtly left to right, he tests it out, tip of his nose gently nudging your clit left to right and right to left and his warm breath teasing your wet, glistening folds. You let out a gasp followed by a small breathy little uhh, that has his ears ringing and he’s happy. Pleased with his position, he slips his tongue out and traces you with it, before returning with a big, firm lick - tongue flattened and wide making sure you touch all of you in one pass. Those big hands wrap further around you, now snaking over the tops of your thighs and this time tugging you down. Down down down and there’s nowhere else to go. 

Now you’ve had some fine oral sex before. It’s a non-negotiable for you when it comes to relationships: If a man is worried about tasting your clit, you don’t want him. You’re worth more than that. You’ve even done this a time or two, but Steve nestled between your thighs, under you like this fully clothed and pulling you into his face further despite there not being anywhere else to go is otherworldly.  

Other times you’ve found yourself in this position were tactical. A position change, a new angle, just for fun, a lazy guy. But being perched on top of Steve Harrington’s face is making you feel like a true goddess. You were about to give him a history lesson and tell him why this is called Queening and instead he’s proving it to you. Making you feel just like one.

Between smooth glides of his tongue, Steve sucks at your lips, your clit, the seam of your thigh. Once you’ve settled and allow yourself to fully relax over top of him, he releases his bruising grip - perfect tiny crescents left behind in their wake - and uses those free hands wherever he can reach. Sliding up your spine, ghosting over the peach of your ass, along the curve of your backside and between them, too. 

You’re not quiet anymore. You couldn’t be if you tried, and if you weren’t muffling the sounds coming from him with your thighs, you’re pretty sure the symphony of both of your moans would be enough to tip you over the edge. Since his are busy elsewhere, your hands find their way to your tits, rolling your nipples between your fingers and throwing your head back in pleasure as you start to absentmindedly grind on his face. 

He lets you bask in your pleasure for a while before tugging you out of your daze, hands covering the small of your back, pulling and angling you forward so that your hands fall to the arm of the sofa behind him. Now, leaning over him, soft and subtle grinding returning like muscle memory, he takes the opportunity to slide his fingers in from behind, just alongside his mouth. Thick digits slipping inside, scissoring alongside the wet muscle of his tongue, nose nudging your clit between deep rolls of your hips against him, he notices the twitching of your velvety walls first, followed by the shaking of your thighs. 

Freeing his hands, he finds your legs again, if only to hold you down to ride out your climax, combating how badly your sensitive body is trying to pull away, just slightly. The work he’s putting in on your pussy is paying off tenfold when you tremble and shake above him. Unable to move from the vice grip he has on your legs, you have no choice but to cry out and let him lap at you, drink you up until you're overstimulated and begging him to stop. 

Limp and satiated, you easily fall into his arms as he moves up between you and the couch, pulling you into his lap. Your head lolls forward has he grabs your cheeks to look at you “Y’feel good baby? Y’feel like a Queen?” 

You nod, dazed but eager and happy as he lifts you and stands. Legs wrapping around his hips while he peppers you with kisses that taste like your own pleasure, he carries you down the hallway to his room. 

Kicking open the door, he stalks over to his bed and tosses you onto it without a second thought.  Looking up at him with big doe eyes, he knows he’s done for. He can’t move fast enough as he loosened his belt and tugs down his pants. Crawling over you on his bed, he nudges that nose against yours again to get your attention. “You wanna? We don’t have to y’know?”

“Steve Harrington, I want to so bad, I’m gonna make you forget your name.” 

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SexShop!Steve x Reader : SexShop!Robin x OC

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Act 1 - Foreplay

Aphrodisiac (Robin's Chapter)

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Summary: (6.8K) The pair are settling in at The Hideout but not without some bumps in the road, and are exploring the city and sampling a bit of all that it has to offer. Steve is trying hard to find things that he likes to do and he's totally baffled to see Robin so effortlessly spreading her wings. Robin's got a date. A real legitimate, public date and she quickly gets fixated. Meanwhile Steve's got another lonely evening by himself. The pair - well maybe just Robin - gets in the mood in this Robin-centric installment of Act 1. 

Warnings: it's a sex shop and generally just NSFW so 18+. Sex toys and self-exploration, female masturbation, shop talk, fluffy affection, LGBTQ acceptance (which isn't much of a warning, it's a goddamn right), self-loathing, mild depression and *you* make your first appearance.

Almost-July, 1993

What Robin failed to consider when wagering a digital pet bet with Steve Harrington is that this boy was born and raised competitive. She forgot that in the Harrington household "lose" wasn't in their vocabulary. She also forgot just how forgetful she is. Ironic. So it should have been no surprise that in the last 24 hours, her Tamagotchi has been sick three times and was always beeping incessantly. 

"Rob, you're a horrible mother. You're gonna owe me 5 drinks before we even get our first paycheck." Steve gloats, tucking his healthy, happy, bouncing pet into his pocket before sitting down to lace up his sneakers. 

Meanwhile, Robin who is shoving her feet unceremoniously into her Chucks ignores the shit talking and dishes out some of her own. "Dude, we have to do something about this." She kicks her chin in his direction as he smooths out his clothes. 

"What?" Steve snaps back.

"I can't believe you still dress like that. Honestly. 1984 called, they want their Sears Catalog back." 

"Ok Robin, sorry I didn't know you also got a job as the fuckin fashion police."

"I'm just saying, small town Indiana polo fashion ain't gonna cut it in the big city, boy. You wanna keep bagging hotties like you did the other weekend, we'll have to do something. You don't have to dress for mommy anymore." And as she says the last bit she immediately winces "Sorry. Sorry. I didn't mean … "

"No it's okay, Rob. I know what you're trying to say. Maybe. Maybe once we have some extra money I'll get something new. You can help me. Deal?"

After a few weeks of exploring, Robin and Steve have zeroed in on quite a few of their own places. A bench they prefer in the nearby park, nestled in the shade of a swaying willow tree; a greasy corner store that sells the best breakfasts to sop up what's left of an evening out; an arcade that makes them nostalgic and think of the kids at home and gives them something to talk about when they call; and this place - a nice little coffee shop tucked in between towering complexes and quaint stores just one block over from their place. There are always records playing of the baristas favorite bands, the coffee is good and strong and cheap and they're always open when they need it. 

Steve and Robin have gone to the coffee shop almost daily since they found it. But this time Robin was out on an errand herself so she popped in on her own to grab two cups to-go and bring back to the apartment, where Steve, no doubt, was still sleeping. Perusing the wall of records in rotation while she waits for her order, Robin is startled by a quiet voice beside her, whispering closer in her ear than she's used to from a stranger. "This week it's good stuff, huh? I'm loving The Smashing Pumpkins new one." the voice says. 

Robin's eyes dart to her left and quickly back up to the wall of vinyls, the stranger's proximity and attention making her squirm just a bit. "My last .. girlfriend. She was into all the pop stuff. Not really my vibe, ya know." And at that, Robin's eyes rise to meet the womans who is standing next to her. There's not much that can actually shut Robin Buckley up, but here's a few: a really fuckin' beautiful girl, eye contact and someone casually talking about their sexuality. It was the perfect storm. 

Robin bit her plump, pink lips and nodded at the stranger, feeling a little ridiculous at the interaction so far. What is she supposed to say? Do I ask her about her ex- GIRLFRIEND? Do people really talk that openly here in the city? I don't even know her name! Robin's voice may be silent but her brain is going a mile a minute.

"Alex." The stranger says. Just as the barista shouts Robin! Your order is up! in the background. 

As Robin reaches across the counter for the two steaming cups, Alex counters "And I'm assuming you, are in fact Robin." with a grin. "No boyfriend today?" She says, and as Robin's eyes twist in confusion, she pipes up again "No no, I'm sorry, I'm not being weird I swear. I just come here a lot and I've seen you guys. Nothing freaky I promise."

"No." Is all Robin awkwardly says, totally deadpan. 

Alex waits for more, but nothing comes. After a moment she chuckles, picking up her own cup of tea and raising it to her lips to take a sip, but not before whispering out "No, what?" in a question. 

"Ha. No. No he's not my boyfriend." Robin says as she plays with the hem of her denim cutoff shorts. 

"Ah, too bad. He's a hottie." Alex shrugs and Robin stands confused. It's happening before she knows it started and Robin's dumpster fire of a brain starts rambling. 

"Wait. What? No he's not my boyfriend he's my roommate and yeah we come here, we're still kinda new in town. We're actually from a small town - Hawkins - but what… I'm sorry I thought you said your ex-girlfriend liked pop music so… "

"Yeah. That's what I said." Alex takes another nonchalant sip of her steaming mug. 

" So .. but Steve. He's… " Robin stutters out. 

"Well he is hot isn't he?" The woman counters. 

"I mean, yeah I guess. He has no trouble with the ladies if that's what you mean. Always Mr god-damned Popular cause he has perfect fuckin' hair but I swear they should see him in the morning, it's not all rainbows and butterflies then!" and the words just keep spouting out of her mouth uncontrollably. 

Alex looks on at her, almost endearingly, as she lets her go and spit it all out. "You done?" She asks. 

Robin nods, mutters an apology for her rambling and starts to head towards the door "I should go. Nice to meet you, Alex."

She shuffles her steps quickly in an attempt to bolt as far away as she can from the pretty girl who she just made a fool of herself in front of. God, I'm gonna have to tell Steve we need to find a new coffee place. Shit. 

"Wait! Wait, sorry. I can be intense." Alex muses, kicking her feet at the chair next to where they stand, before looking back at Robin's flushing face. "Yes, I did say ex-girlfriend. I also said your whatever he is is hot. I'm not stalking you, I just must get my tea when you guys get your coffee and, I hope I don't make you totally run off in terror when I say this next part, but I'm gonna anyway - I have just been distracted by you guys. I thought you were both pretty hot and I was distracted by the coffee shop couple every time I'm here. You were solo today so I thought I'd break the ice. Sorry. I hope I'm not making this weird "

Robin's mouth is absolutely hanging open right now. 

"Yeah, so the tables turned pretty quickly and I'm thinking I'm the one that should be embarrassed right now so, hopefully I see hot coffee shop couple around and I didn't totally scare you away from this place. " 

"Oh God, no. The coffee is too good and too cheap for us to stop coming here. He's not my boyfriend. Steve is 100% my roommate and that's it, no coffee shop couple here. Yeah, he's hot but don't you ever tell him that. Christ, he doesn't need a bigger ego. And the last time I talked to a girl like you I think I peed my pants, so excuse me I'm going to go hurl myself off the Willis Tower, if that's okay with you?"

Alex lets out a deep laugh. A genuine one. She reaches out to touch Robin's forearm, to keep her there… or ground her, she's not sure which. "Please don't. I can't have you falling if it's not for me." and at that Robin's eyes go wide as saucers. "Are you free tomorrow? Maybe we could get dinner? Downtown. Meet here so it's not weird and sketchy first…that is, if your hot roommate doesn't mind I borrow you for a bit?"

She's stunned. Robin has never been asked out on a date before. Is this a date? Holy shit.

She musters up every ounce of courage she has to smile and nod. "I get off work at 6, so can we make it 7?" Only to be interrupted in that moment by the shrill chirping on her keychain signifying yet another dead digital pet. 

A wide, sparkling smile spreads on Alex's face as she starts to head out the door, turning back to shout out "7:00, meet you here. Can't wait! "

And as soon as the bell on the door dings and she's sure it's shut, her brain starts catching up and Robin drops both cups of coffee on the floor. 

Today, Murray is not entertained by Steve. Usually the banter between the pair has remained humorous and for the most part, friendly. Today Steve is just pissing him off. 

First Steve dropped an entire shipping box of condoms, spilling single wrapped rubbers all over the floor. It took him an hour and twenty three minutes and three side-eyeing customers stepping over him to clean them all up. Then Steve knocked over the mannequins like dominoes after he struggled with the BDSM display Murray assigned to him for the second part of their shift. Robin snickered as Murray delegated the task to Steve, knowing damn well it was just to make the boy suffer. Robin watched gleefully, sitting at the register, resting her chin in her hand as Steve grumbled through the entire task. At one point, he was fumbling so much with all of the straps and buckles and ties that before he knew it the head of the mannequin he was attempting to gag toppled off its shoulders and knocked three other mannequins down in its wake. All Steve could do in response was throw the ball gag to the side as he stormed off, yelling back "Tell that asshole I took my 15! I'll deal with the bondage when I get back!" 

As he marches off in anger, Murray does in fact slide over and lean down next to Robin. "How's Casanova doing? BDSM not his thing, I see?" He chuckles. Robin cocks a sideways grin at him shaking her head. "He doesn't even know what his thing is, Murray. He's just a lost little puppy."

"What about you, Red. You doing good?"

"Yeah, yeah I am. I think he's stressed because he's not really finding his thing. He's used to things coming easy for him and they're just… not here."

"What does Mr Hometown Heroes' emotional journey have to do with how you're doing, huh?"

"A lot, actually. He's absolutely a bumbling fucking idiot, but he is the kindest person I've ever known. He has a weird way of showing it, but that's because his parents are Grade A assholes. He's been more supportive to me than anyone on this planet and I am trying so hard to help him but I don't know how." 

"Well, Red, this is a journey of lifelong self-discovery. Ya gotta learn to love thyself before you can love another. That goes for both of you, ya know?" and with that, he pushes off the glass countertop and saunters back to his office while humming an indistinguishable tune. 

When Steve returns from his break Robin recognizes the look on his face. It's the one that comes back ready with his head in the game after an excruciatingly awkward pep talk he gave himself - out loud. If anything, all those years of organized sports at least gave him a method to get himself back on track. 

That's why it was so abysmal to watch as he confidently tried to help a young customer, flowing brunette hair curled and brushed out into bouncy ringlets, asking in a tiny voice behind batting eyes to be pointed in the direction of the Ben Wa. 

"Oh yeah, I got you covered on this! Haven't been here long and I never heard of those before our manager got one for us and just the other day I stopped in at this place that looked interesting… "

The customer's eyes narrow, not sure where Steve is going with this conversation just as Murray joins in next to Robin to watch the drama unfold. He brought popcorn this time and was audibly chomping on it with an open mouth behind a gaping smile. "I gotta see where he's going with this." Tilting the bag towards Robin in an offering as they watch. 

"Yeah, so if you just go down the block a few more streets you'll see a place on the corner. It actually says Ben Wa on the window, so you will definitely see it when you get there. I was surprised at how much I liked it!" Steve says to the miffed young lady as she is heading for the door. "Have a great day! Enjoy!" Steve yells after her.

"What the hell man! Where'd you send the good paying customer!" Murray outstretched his arm towards the door before reaching into his bag to throw a kernel of popcorn right square into Steve's forehead. 

"What the fuck, Murray. She wanted to know where to get a fuckin sandwich. Last time I checked we don't sell sandwiches!" He yells as he spins his outstretched arms from left to right, showing off the wares inside the shop. 

"A sandwich? You fuckin' small town nincompoop, no! Ben Wa. Ben Wa balls. She wanted to put 'em up her coochie you idiot!"

Beet red from holding back, Robin finally lets out a cackle that fills the entire store. "Oh my God, someone get me a white board! You gotta be shitting me. This is better than watching him sink at Scoops, hands down."

"Wa-what are you talking about? Ben Wa - like the sandwich from that Korean place? You got it for us for lunch three days ago!"

"Oh for the love of God. You're pretty but you're dumb. BAHN MI. Say it with me BAAHHHN MEEEE" he overemphasized.

"I-i… well.. what… what the fuck man! I don't know!" 

Meanwhile, Robin is on the floor with tears in her eyes from laughing so hard. 

After Robin gets her shit together and Steve returns to his normal shade of sun kissed peach, ever the educator, Murray fills the pair in on what the customer was actually looking for. Pulling them over to a display case in the rear, a menagerie of colorful metallic, glass and silicone balls are laid out for viewing. All the sizes as big as or smaller than an egg, Murray explains both their practical use as well as how they can be used for pleasure. 

"See some ladies come looking for these after they have a baby, nothing to do with getting off… for now at least … everything to do with tightening things back up again. Just a run of the mill afternoon at the vaginal gym shesh." Steve grimaces as the analogy but nods in understanding. "Girls …or guys - might use them to stretch themselves out a bit and train their holes." Robin looks on, fully engaged and taking all the information in earnest. "They have little weights inside though, so if you're wearing them for a while or they're jostling around there's a whole lotta movement in there if you know what I mean. A few tugs on those strings and you got yourself a party." 

The rest of the day goes off without a hitch, but gnawing at the back of Robin's mind are a bright red pair of Ben Wa balls from the display case, round and smooth and silicone, shaped like two cherries on a lime green stem. She's never owned a toy before, and she's feeling kind of intrigued, so while Steve is in the employee room gathering his things and clocking out, Robin seizes the opportunity to pull the toy from the case and ring it up quickly. She rings up the amount, and hastily keys in her employee discount before slipping them into her satchel just before Steve returns to the floor. 

Robin has increasingly spent her free time idling around town and making her own discoveries. She finds herself often at a community park enjoying some local outdoor music that pops up regularly on the weekends and has stumbled upon a vintage bookshop a few doors down from the coffee place that she has made a comfortable home in their reading nook a few days a week while also making fast friends with the laid back cashier there on the weekends. 

Meanwhile Steve has failed at any attempt to casually find something he likes to do on his own and, as evident today at work, there's something that's got him stressed and Robin thinks this is it. He tried to join her at the community park, but he has yet to get into any of the music they're playing and he joined her once at the bookstore when she excitedly wanted to share her big find with her friend, but he just didn't get the hype after sitting there thumbing through a book he had no interest in actually reading. The apartment doesn't have any cable, and there's only so much coffee shop and Tamagotchi a guy pushing 30 can handle. Needless to say, city life isn't coming as naturally for Steve as it is for Robin and that is throwing him for an absolute loop. 

After a long talk on the fire escape over a cigarette, Robin actually had some wise insight into Steve's problem. "Dude, it's because you don't have any hobbies! Tell me one thing you've ever done because you chose to do it?"

"Robs, I played sports for years! Of course I have hobbies!" 

"No. That's not what I mean. Who signed you up for those? Who made sure you made the varsity team your first year? Who told you to run laps? Do you still play them now? Just cause you convinced yourself you liked it, doesn't mean you actually did."

And that resonated with Steve. He thought about why he actually liked all the baseball, all the nights on the basketball court and all the swim meets - it wasn't because he actually liked the sports, he liked how it made him feel to win. For his dad to give a shit every once in a while. For his teammates to need him. So Steve stayed up late that night, gazing at the stars on that fire escape and thinking long and hard about how he has spent his time - team sports that his dad got him into that eventually made himself feel useful, dialing up radio stations that played music he heard at other people's parties and cassette tapes of other people's favorite songs in his glove compartment, cooking meals that he has to or else he wouldn't be fed. 

The only damn thing he ever chose to do himself was watch out for those godforsaken kids back home and even through all his griping about them, it was always worth it. But driving a bunch of preteens around doesn't constitute an interest. "Fuck man, I don't even know myself." He muses into the late night sky, taking one last long drag before closing the window behind himself and idling off to bed. 

The next day, the two had a late start at The Hideout, and Robin threw her satchel over her shoulder while yelling out to Steve "Dingus, I'm going out to the bookshop for a bit. Need anything while I'm out?" 

"Nah Robs, I'm good."

"Kay - don't miss me while I'm out and you're home sulking!" She pokes, and the door clicks shut behind her leaving him in the quiet. Steve reaches for the radio and as he dials the station over to filter out the static and he's immediately back to thinking about last night. Why am I even putting on this station? I don't even think I like these songs, do I? He thinks to himself. So Steve sets out that morning to try and figure something out about himself. 

Inspired by the records displayed every week at the coffee shop, Steve finds himself fingering through bins of Vinyls at a record shop he found as he walked about the neighborhood. "Anything we can help you with, man?" the employee asks as he approaches. 

" Uh yeah. Actually I think…I mean, I think I want to get some records."

" Oh bud, happy to help! What are you into and what kind of player do you have?"

Steve stares at the man, stubble on his jawline, in a fitted yellow Queen T Shirt that looks worn and soft coupled with his ripped denim. A man that looks like he knows what he likes. Steve's stare is blank and he's absolutely at a loss. "I'm sorry, I have no idea. I should go."

"My brother, music is for everyone. Let me hook you up and we'll figure it out. No need to stress."

The man spends the next hour showing Steve how to use a basic model record player. They try out a few different vinyls to see what he might like. After a while, the pair have a stack piled up next to the record player - Queen, Fleetwood Mac, Tears for Fears, Red Hot Chili Peppers and a few others littered with popular music and rock artists he didn't really know by name before - and Steve is checking out. 

As he's getting ready to hand over a stack of cash to the man that helped him discover what kind of music he likes, they're interrupted by a deep hum, "Now that's a nice stack you got there." Steve turns around and is a little taken aback by what he sees. It's you…and you're standing there all casual and comfortable, looking very at ease in the record shop. "Hey Brian. What's up?" You nod in the kind man's direction.

"Hey hot stuff, I got what you came for back here. Just let me finish up with this guy and I'll get you taken care of. "

"Hi" Steve waves in your direction. "I'm sorry." No one quite sure what he's actually apologizing for in the least.

"No need to be sorry, you were here first. I just came to pick up the new Pearl Jam record and I am in absolutely no rush."

"Pearl Jam?" Steve questions. 

"Yeah man. Eddie Vedder? You might actually like it, all things considered." The man named Brian motions to the eclectic stack Steve has accumulated during his visit. 

Looking back at you standing there, not impatiently, just smiling brighter than the sun, he mutters "Yeah cool. Yeah I mean, if you have another can I add that? I'll give it a try."

And as Steve loads up his wares in his arms and turns to leave, your charismatic smile finds him one last time, " I hope you like it… ." You draw out waiting for him to fill in the blank. 

"Steve." He finishes for you.

You nod, "I hope you like it, Steve"

The next night at the apartment, Robin is gearing up for her date and she is absolutely in her head about it. She has asked Steve one hundred times today if he's sure this is a date. "But Stevie's she .. I really think she might just want to hang out and be friends." 

"Robin, I swear to Christ if you don't just STOP this." Steve sucks in a clipped breath before continuing on. "It's a date. I'm one hundred percent sure this girl asked you on a date and you're going. Relax, please! Fuck, you're stressing me out and I have nothing to do with any of this!" Steve shouts for the last time tonight, leaving Robin in the bathroom doorway, staring at herself in the mirror trying to make herself presentable.

Through the damp hair falling into her vision and the steam still speckling on the mirror after her shower, the girl is trying desperately to hype herself up and get ready to spend time with Alex. But Robin is not a confident creature. She's starting to feel herself crawl back inside the cave forged deep in her personality and carved into the bedrock of Hawkins, Indiana. "I gotta fuckin' snap out of this." She says to her reflection, splashing water on her face and retreating back to her bedroom. 

She hears the new and welcome sound of vinyl scratching from Steve's bedroom, before the reverberation of Fleetwood Mac's The Chain blares loudly through the walls. She sighs, sitting there still wrapped in her towel from after her shower, mind wandering to Alex and her tall, thin frame. Still not sure how a girl like that was referring to her as the hot one, Robin's thoughts drift to the deep black of the woman's mascara, fanning her eyelashes out and emphasizing her deep green eyes. She thinks about how she was too much of a spaz to appreciate the curve of her cupid's bow and she's still not sure if she was imagining the softness of the swell of her hips or not. 

Mixed up in thought, Robin's forearms graze the front of her towel and the rough material scratches at her exposed nipples underneath. She lets out a wispy gasp, not realizing just how turned on she was until that second. Her mind is racing. She looks at the clock and sees she has 20 minutes until she needs to head downstairs to the shop to meet Alex. Immediately she eyes her bedside table, knowing those deep red, cherry Ben Wa balls are sitting just inside. She thinks about what Murray has been saying and all of his preaching about “loving thyself before you can love another, Red!" and with one last racing thought of the woman who actually wants to take her on a date… out in public, she's clamoring for the drawer. 

She has never been more grateful that Steve has picked up a new interest, and that it was a loud one, because as she lets the towel draping her body loosen while she's leaning back into her soft cotton pillowcases she lets out a soft whimper before she's even touched herself once. Robin tentatively lets her soft hands and glossy nails trace the outline of her slit, delicately rubbing and pressing on where she needs it most and experimentally flicking the hood of her clit. After considering things one last time, she purses her eyes closed tight and holds her breath as she guides one of the cherry balls inside her opening. 

The gasp that leaves her throat this time isn't soft and quiet and she finds herself gyrating and writhing as she rubs and tugs at the cherry stems attached to her toy. The weights inside are rolling and undulating just like Murray said they would, sending vibrations up and back down her body. Robin feels filthy, thinking about Alex as she uses her free hand to rub at her clit while still pressing in and tugging at the ball with her other, but not filthy enough to deny how much she is enjoying this game she is playing with herself. 

Robin's eyes are rolled back in her head as her orgasm rushes over her, the weights of the ball continuing to move and rattle inside coax her through her comedown. Thighs shaking and breath stuttering, she lets out a deep sigh "Holy fuckin' shit. I love my job." 

Fumbling and running late after her little self-love session, Robin bounds through the doors of the coffee shop a little dramatically. As part of her grand entrance, she knocks her hip into the chair of the two-top situated right inside the entryway and doubles over at the pain. "Shit." She means to whisper, but instead says at a volume loud enough to reach the back of the shop, and if the entrance alone didn't alert Alex to her arrival, she certainly would have heard that.  

The barista greets Robin cheerfully by name just as Alex walks up to greet her with her hand outstretched, coffee cup there as an offering to break the ice. "I thought you might need a pick me up after work. She hooked me up with your usual order, so… "

Robin feels her freckles burn at the gesture, like they do after a day at the lake in the sun. She catches Alex's eyes scanning her body and she feels her chest flush, no doubt accentuated by the emerald green satin tank that's cut a bit lower than she usually ventures. The deep color making her hair, her eyes and her fair skin pop, covered by a cropped denim jacket DIY frayed at the edges has definitely caught her date's eye. 

"I wanted to pop into this Gallery I really love, if you don't mind indulging my creative side tonight? It's a great spot and… there's a graphic artist showing there now I just gotta check out before it's gone. It's this amazing social commentary on pregnancy as a lesbian. Like a totally butch lesbian decides to get pregnant with her partner, so what now? It's just… I gotta see it. The diversity at this place is phenomenal."

Robin's wide eyes are not white in astonishment this time, but instead they're with pure intrigue and reverence. Knowing that not only are there people like her in this city, but enough people that feel the same or respect it enough to go to an art gallery to check out doodles about a pregnant butch lesbian and it's not the butt of a homophobic joke is… enthralling to her. She nods vehemently "Hell yeah, that sounds…  really amazing. I mean… I'm not used to that kind of transparency, so, yeah. Let's do it."

And as they turn to leave the shop, coffee and tea in respective hands, Robin feels the tickle of a finger brushing her open palm. Barely registering what is happening, she finds herself in a brief yet unnecessary panic as she feels Alex's hand settle in, intertwined with hers. She can't help but scan her surroundings for passerby oggling the two women holding hands and walking down the sidewalk, but she saw not one the whole walk down the block to the train platform. The thrill of holding a pretty lady's hand out in public is sending tingles up her spine, or maybe it's the gentle, internal humming of the Ben Wa balls she opted to keep inside for the evening, but Robin could definitely get used to this. She smirks at herself as they ascend the steps towards the incoming train and asks curiously,"So tell me, what's this artist's name?

Meanwhile, Robin just missed Steve on the same platform not 10 minutes earlier. Shortly after Robin finally headed out, Steve found himself standing in the kitchen staring at a barren refrigerator - nothing more than a carton of milk, some OJ and a row of eggs left in there for him to choose from. He tries not to be irritated at his current situation, but he can't help the groan he lets out as he reaches for the phone, readying himself to order way too much pizza for one lonely guy on his couch late at night. 

Before he finishes dialing he shakes his head, thinking about how he doesn't have to keep himself cooped up here. He has done so much on his own, but all of that was such a… necessity. Is it really that crazy to go off and do something alone without it being totally pitiful? "I mean, Robin goes places by herself all the time." He muses to himself. 

So that's how he found himself hopping off the train downtown and wandering into the first restaurant that looked reasonable and …  good. Not just food but something he might actually enjoy tasting. It's a quaint Italian place. Authentic, by the looks of it. Walls lined with corked bottles of olive oil and limoncello, twinkle lights strewn over the white lattice work ceiling, the unmistakable smell of carbohydrates and garlic. 

This is yet another something he hasn’t ever done before. Not just a quick bite or a fast food, but instead going out to a proper restaurant and sitting down for a real meal. Solo. Alone. Alone but NOT lonely, he thinks. In the past 24 hours since Robin pointed out that he never does anything for himself that he enjoys, he has done a lot of introspection and has made it a point to seek out new experiences hoping something will stick. Sitting at the cozy little restaurant place downtown adorned with faux plants, and filled with tables of other guests, he finds himself so grateful to have Robin’s perspective and support. So instead of worrying about how he's not sharing the table with a date, or Robin or anyone else for that matter, he's toasting to her, in absentia.  

On the other side of town, Robin and Alex find themselves tucked into a booth at a dimly lit, definitely more trendy than she’s ever experienced before in her life, kind of bar. Alex has the table filled with an assortment of bites to eat and has ordered up all of the bartender's signature drinks on a mission to get Robin to broaden her horizons and shake that small town dust off of her coattails. “Ok, so, we have to find something here that you’re into. You can’t just tell me warm beer or straight shots are your drinks of choice - every city girl’s gotta have their go-to cocktail.” 

Robin first confidently grabs at the Manhattan from the selections laid out in front of hrr, recognizing the deep amber of the liquid and the familiar smell of whiskey that reminds her of Steve. It is quickly after she brings it to her lips that she sputters it back out, spraying the cocktail over her hand and most likely, her date. Alex says nothing about it, eyeing the ruby red blush on Robin’s cheeks and chest, but she stifles a small laugh before she says “Got it. No whiskey cocktails. Check. Here, here…cleanse your palate.” She says, handing her a small plate filled with creamy green, roasted artichokes splayed out like a lotus flower. “They’re the best in the city. Stuffed artichokes - ya know? They’re my favorite. Doesn’t hurt that they’re an aphrodisiac, huh?”

And if Robin hadn’t already spit out that whiskey drink, she definitely would have at that. So bold. So brazen. Dumbfounded that even at how blatant Alex has been with her flirting all night, it didn’t prepare her for that comment and the implications it held behind her eyes. And when Robin didn’t move to immediately grab a bite, Alex instead responded by picking up a delicate stuffed petal and holding it out to Robin’s pillowy lips, urging her to open up. She tentatively parted those lips and took a bite, wide-eyed at the flavor and simultaneously at the way Alex’s eyes remained locked on hers. 

Before the end of the date, Robin had successfully spilled a cup of water, knocked over the salt shaker and tried sips of 6 different cocktails before she settled in with a bright orange and red drink in a highball glass, lips wrapped around the straw and playing with the stem of the cherry hanging over the side of her glass. “This one is definitely a winner.” She grins, as she turns to look at Alex, excited to have found something that she likes while simultaneously excited that she finds she doesn’t really care that she did no less than 10 embarrassing things on this date anymore. She doesn’t feel embarrassed in the least and that is still a pretty new feeling for her.

“Why am I not surprised? I should have known.” Alex laughs out.

Robin shrugs, a questioning look in her eye as she sucks down the last of the drink, rattling the ice as the straw drains the cup of the last of it, loud enough to turn a head in the booth next to theirs when she forgets she’s someplace a certain level of chic that Hawkins must repel just by its sheer podunk nature.

Alex leans in close, right next to Robin’s ear to whisper, but makes sure she pulls back just as quickly to watch the flush spread over her freckled face like she knew it would “I should have known you’d like Sex on the Beach.” Sealed with a wink. 

And with that, the ice wasn’t the only thing rattling anymore, as Robin is keenly reminded as she feels the shudder travel up and down her spine that she chose to keep those Ben Wa balls.

"And she said what to you? Oh yeah, your date wants to get in your pants. For SURE.” Steve said as the cool edge of a frosted mug hit his tongue. It was a long day at The Hideout and they barely had time to shoot the shit between odd jobs and a colorful group of customers, and Robin got in so late last night that he didn’t even get to grill her about her date when she rolled in. Disregard the fact that Steve was tucked soundly in his bed after a nice warm belly full of pasta and red wines (who knew, he liked red wine? He sure didn’t). After such a long day, and the bet hanging in the air, the pair stumbled upon a local dive bar on their walk home and that’s where they find themselves now - unwinding and finding themselves totally relaxed in the warm, dimly lit and unceremonious Benny’s Taproom.

“God, Steve, I don’t want to talk about it!”

“What do you mean, you don’t want to talk about it? You owe me three drinks and you’ve gotta spill your guts, Robbie.” 

“Ahhh, I don’t want to hear about the bet, Steve! I’ve been a little distracted. My keychain has been the least of my worries, genius.”

“Excuses, excuses.” he winks, the beer tasting even better knowing it was his prize for caring for his tamagotchi much better than his friends, just as he suspected. Robin cycled through three whole pets so far, while Steve’s has grown into a thriving, young thing and he gloats about it every moment he can. “Now, spill it. I need to know the details about your date, Robin. Stop avoiding this.”

As they sit there arguing over digital pets and sharing (or avoiding) stories of their night prior, a gravely ahem comes from over the bar as the gruff, stone faced and bearded man behind it places his hands wide on the counter in front of the two friends. “If you’re in my bar, drinking my drinks, then you gotta share, missy. This place is boring lately, and you guys are fresh meat, so please…entertain us with your stories. I gotta live for something around here.” he sternly says to the two, before he smiles wide and says “If you’re here, you’re family, so listen to your friend and give us the scoop, for God sakes!” 

Robin tells them about her first date - about all of the coy flirting, about all of the embarrassing things that didn’t feel so terribly embarrassing in front of her date, about all of the appetizers and cocktail tastings, about the menu items spread out on their table with double entendres and that Alex kept ordering things she kept referring to as Aphrodisiacs “I swear I thought aphrodisiac was another word for Oysters, and then I thought that it meant something sexual just because … oysters. They’re like…ya know.” as she blinks her eyes downwards to her lap.

“Oh honey, he is into you.” Jim breathes out as he adjusts to lean back against the sink with his arms crossed.

Maybe it was Robin’s tight-lipped smile in response to that, or maybe it was how Steve gargled his last sip of beer right back into the mug before setting it down on the ratty old, stained coaster on the bar, but Jim’s eyes flitted between the pair looking for the information he must certainly be missing. 

“Ah!” He claps his hands together as he takes Steve’s mug, swirls it around eyeing the backwash, throws it in the sink and fetches another one. He immediately moves over to the tap to refill it while noting “Alex…. He’s a she…isn’t she?” 

Jim leans over the bar, braced on his elbows and spends the next twenty minutes telling her that she's just had a taste of what the city has to offer. .. a taste of dating. A taste of Alex. And if she's feeling like that - if one taste is making her feel so so good, it's worth embracing it and diving right in.

TAGLIST: @livsters @katie-tibo @johnricharddeacy @angywritesstuff @k-k0129 @tisthedamnseason69 @middle-of-the-earth @thebrazilianatheist  @mochminnie @micheledawn1975 @falling-throughthe-hourglass @rafaaoli @ash5monster01 @gabessock @onyxslayss

The artist referenced in this Chapter is A.K. Summers who did, in fact host an exhibit at a Chicago Gallery in 1993. See her work Pregnant Butch here

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Get Off. Get Off. GET OFF!!!!!!

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Act 2 - Exploration

Lubrication (Steve's Chapter)

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Summary: (9.3K) While Robin and Alex approach serious relationship territory, Steve still finds himself bubbling around the city solo. Steve is now spreading is wings, nonetheless, finding things (albeit tentatively) that he genuinely is enjoying for himself, not for others. We see Alex and Steve connect and start to build a relationship and loads of supportive friendship from the ladies towards their #1 guy. The antics in the shop are going full force and a memorable night comes from one charismatic customer interaction and more chance meetings with you encourage Steve to seal the deal. Seeing Steve start to loosen up is the name of this game. So slide in and enjoy this chapter of Get Off. 

Warnings: it's a sex shop and generally just NSFW so 18+. Sex paraphernalia, sexual innuendo aplenty, Drag Queen's and LGBTQ+ culture, failed dating, male masturbation, shop talk, porn watching, fluffy f/f affection and one-sided lust.

The sound of rubber hitting the pavement follows Steve along, while the sun is cresting along Lake Michigan and bouncing prisms off the skyscrapers along the lakeside trail. Sweat is trailing from the hairs on his neck, down the curve of his spine and the wind is whipping at his face. The last three weeks, Steve has taken up running in the early mornings. Something he used to do out of obligation but is now doing by choice. Stripping away the "expectation" of running for distance or speed or endurance and settling into the idea of running for the feeling, the self care.

 It's not that he's feeling self conscious, really, but the softness around his tummy does make him pause in the mirror lately. He never noticed before how much being truly active made him feel good. That being athletic wasn't just about a big win or suffering through the aftermath of a loss in his living room at the hands of his father. So here Steve is with another new hobby and a little more self discovery, and the time he spends running and thinking allows him to be just a little more level headed than he ever was before.

He's been exploring this idea that he spent so long running from, that being alone doesn't need to be lonely. He's discovered that independence was about surviving on his own and going through life with absent parents - still making it to each game not only on time but early, never missing a doctor's appointment, eating dinner and not surviving on pizza. This is something different. This is doing things alone because you want to, experiencing things for yourself, being comfortable in your interests and and comfort in knowing who you are and who you might want to be. Autonomy, individuality. 

In his post-run haze, Steve is sprinting up the steps after his morning run one day when he's abruptly stopped in the hallway by a swinging door to his face and an angry teenager storming out of it right into his path. He's heard them before - his neighbors - probably the worst part of their apartment living situation was whatever went on over there. The boy, whoever he was, was loud, angry. when he was actually home and wasn't angry, he was blasting music that made the walls shake. He was mean. And most times the girl would not respond. Her voice wouldn't be heard over his. Every so often she'd stand her ground and shout back, but when she did there were always slammed doors, the bang of fits on the wall. All things that made Steve's skin crawl. 

This time, he didn't hear the shouts or the argument but he saw the aftermath. The tear stricken face of the redhead girl who didn't look up from her feet as she stormed out, and walked right into his chest. "Sorry. Fuck. Sorry." She snapped as her striking blue eyes bore through him like he should be sorry for what he said - when he didn't even say a thing. "Hey hey hey… you good?" Steve reaches up to grab her shoulders and look at her directly. 

"Yeah I'm fuckin' peachy. What do you care?" She bites back harder. 

" I- I'm your neighbor, Steve. I mean, I … "

"Oh, so you hear all the shit my brother of the year says to me then, huh? Don't look at me like that." There's that bite again. "I don't want your pity."

"No, no. It's not like that I… I'm just."

He's caught off guard by the healthy eye roll he receives by the young girl who moved to push past Steve, who still finds himself holding her shoulders in place as some form of comfort or grounding. "C'mon, don't be like that. I'm not trying to be an asshole, just… where are you going? "

"Over the rainbow. Fantasia, Sesame Street. Literally anywhere but with that dickwad."

"What about .. would you just come in our place? Hide out there for a while?"

" Are you some fuckin weirdo? I don't even know you. " 

" I know… I know, I just… you shouldn't have to run like that. Just, c'mon. I'll leave you alone, just… come hang out in our place. Robin's in there. We… we can just - please let me help you out." He has no idea why he feels the need to help this nameless girl so badly, he just knows that he does. 

"Listen. I appreciate what you're trying to do, but I don't need you. I was fine before you moved in, I'll still be fine now that you're here." 

Steve knows when to stop pushing, even though his stubborn streak tells him to keep going. This time he decides to bite his tongue and let it go. "For what it's worth, I used to think I didn't need anyone else either." And with that he walked around her and left the girl standing in the hallway. Looking back one last time before walking through his doorway he catches her standing in the hallway for a beat, before storming towards the elevator doors. 

Things have been slow this afternoon, only the dull buzz of the cc camera system running in the background and the mundane tapping of the duo on the glass case counter. Steve and Robin are killing time behind it, perched on backless stools, legs kicked up along side one another on the glass "Alex is really just...dude. She makes me feel so mature. Like… I don't feel like a bumbling idiot band freak for once in my life. I think this is going somewhere Steve. You gotta meet her. Okay? You gotta. I don't think I can get any more serious with her unless you meet her and like her, too."

"Robbie, just bring her around. Stop over thinking things. Jesus Christ. I love you. I'm sure I'll love her too. Just… invite her over or something. Not everything has to be a big event."

And as if he could smell that a serious conversation was going on without him, Murray busts in to the store floor. "Hey  video store boy, I gotta job for you today!" he tosses a giant box of used porn tapes up on the counter. "These puppies need to be rewound and checked so we can do a discount sale." 

"Ah fuck. I left these days behind me, man? Wait - did you say checked? Like for what? "

"Quality, damage, ya know… .looks like you're watching some porn today, Romeo! You can use the back room, buddy boy. I won't judge you if you want to spank it while you watch ‘em through. S'been awhile, right? Can't let Robin and her little girlfriend be the only one getting off around here."

Steve scoffs at Murray's comment. "The fuck, man? That was uncalled for."

Robin stifles a giggle. "He makes a point, Stevie. You haven't had much luck since nightclub chick on the first weekend. This might be a record drought for you. Are you even trying? I thought you were going out some of those nights? Nothing work out?" 

"Robin. C'mon. I'm not talking about this with you …both of you …now." Steve doesn't want to explain that he's gone on a few dates with the girls he meets out at the bars or clubs, but those nights Robin is out, that's when Steve has been going out, sure, but it's been solo. Sitting at different restaurant bars, sampling new foods, trying to figure his life out. 

And as if the Sex Shop Gods heard his prayers, the bell rings signaling a customer.- the first one all afternoon. "I'll do your stupid tapes after this." He grumbles; a charming customer service voice turned up full throttle after that "Hello sir! Welcome. What can I help you with today? " 

The suit clad man, Steve estimated to be in his mid 40s, joins Steve at the counter and in hushed tones asks for some help picking out a good quality lube. "Yeah man, let's get you hooked up." He claps his hands together and leads the man to the racks across the store.

"Boys sensitive. Still got some shit going on, yeah?" Murray mumbles to Robin. She sighs and just nods in his direction. 

"Yeah, man. I thought he was keeping busy, going on dates or whatever when I go out with Alex but something isn't adding up. He went through a phase where he was striking out with every girl left and right when I met him, and this isn't the same… " she trails off.

"... Prince Charming is still falling short." Murray finishes, as he gazes at Steve across the store. 

Steve emerges from the back room hours later, rubbing his hands down his face looking exhausted. " Rob, you gotta come back here with me. I can't watch one more of these pornos by myself. I think I'm going delirious - oh shit. Sorry I didn't know we had a customer. Sorry."

"Steve. Dingus. Chill. It's… not a customer. This… uh. This is -"

"Hey, what's up? I'm Alex. And you're Steve. Cuter up close." She winks at him, eyes glistening with mischief as she leans in with an outstretched hand. Her firm handshake taking Steve by surprise. 

"Oh fuck. Hey. It's good to meet you Alex. .. what do you mean cuter up close?"

"Uh yeah. I mean I'm pretty sure I left out that part about when we met. She… she thought you were my boyfriend - "

"Typical. " Steve cocks his shoulder up in a shrug. 

"- Exactly. That's what I said. But anyway. She thought we were dating because she'd see us at the coffee shop and she was… "

"I was admiring you guys from afar. Thought you were the fuckin cutest pair. Called you Coffee Shop couple in my mind." She confidently explains.

"Stalker. " Steve teases. 

"Robs, I like him. Yeah, so until I ran into Robin that day by herself I was just daydreaming of this unattainable coffee shop couple. I guess if you're not real, at least I could settle for half of you,"

"The better half," Robin muses. The twinkle of a Tamagotchi goes off in the background. 

"Go care for your spawn, Robin, or you're gonna owe me another drink tonight." Steve teases. 

"Fuck! I don't have the extra cash to carry your drinking habits this week, Harrington." She shouts as she sprints off to the break room to fetch her keychain. 

"She's something else." Alex says, now left alone with Steve for the first time." Sorry if I came off stalker-y. I tend to come on strong."

"Funny enough, I actually know the feeling. You're fine. You make her happy and that's all I ever want for her." He smiles. 

"You're a good friend, Steve." Alex gets out, before Robin barrels into the store floor again swinging her keychain, shit eating grin on her face. "It lives to die another day! No drinks for you tonight, Harrington." 

"You guys need some company? What's on the agenda this afternoon? I'm free for the next few hours?" Alex leans back on the counter looking between the pair.

"Well …  dingus here just was asking for some company as he reviews the secondhand pornos in the back room. Quality checks on the pros knocking boots. Wanna come?" Robin offers. "I got snacks."

"Oh hell yeah, I'm coming" she responds quickly, grabbing Robin's hand and following her to the back room.

What the fuck, Steve thinks to himself. He's never met someone as bold and free as Alex and he's only known her for 15 minutes. He shakes his head and comes to the conclusion that yes, he's gonna spend his afternoon watching pornos with his best friend and her girlfriend. All for a paycheck. Can't make this shit up. He runs his hands through his hair and follows the pair back behind the drapes. "Alex, as the guest of honor, you pick the next one. Anything on the pile. I'll rewind and get it rolling."

This time it's a totally kitschy plotline where the maid gets herself stuck in the oven while she's cleaning it rolls on the box screen television in the back. Robin is sat on the old couch with Alex next to her, arm tossed over her shoulder rubbing her thumb along her exposed skin. Steve perches himself along the arm of the couch, back to the wall, legs kicked up the trio laid back with a soundtrack of moans and groans in the background. Steve's eyes are flitting between the screen and the two girls on the couch before he breaks the silence. 

"So we're either gonna make this funny, or it might get totally weird, what's it gonna be?"

"You mean you don't want to sensually watch this girl get a banana in the fruit salad while we're both here? Don't enjoy watching some random dude fill the cream donut with your best friend and her girl?" 

Steve groans and her never-ending wild euphemisms for sex before Alex throws a wide, teasing grin his way before saying, "Look at her tits. No wonder she got stuck. They have to be the size of watermelons."

Robin giggles before her own observations come tumbling forth, "Listen, we all know a man is basically the least appealing thing on the planet to me, but that guy's legs look like a chicken. Am I wrong?"

"Nah, he needs to go for a run. Do a leg day or something." Steve laughs back. "I'm surprised he even has any power behind that thrust."

And things go on like this for the rest of the afternoon, fits of sarcasm, giggles, and gaping mouths, especially for Robin as she wails out and hides her eyes every time a guy slips it in on the screen, Alex teasing her relentlessly "C'mon! It's just biological. That guy's dick actually isn't that bad. He's got some girth." A louder groan comes from Robin as she tries to block out the words from her ears. "Robs, it's like… it's probably like when I use three fingers instead of two, you like that."

"Nope! Nope. I'm out. I'm done." Steve yells, throwing his hands up in the air and pushing off the couch arm where he was still lounging. "I don't need to hear that shit. Fuck right off, both of you."

Robin's face is a mix of pure embarrassment intermingling with absolute entertainment. Her shocked face morphing into a shit eating grin at Steve's uncomfortable pacing. 

"You two finish these tapes together. No funny business on that couch either because I nap there. None of this three fingers bullshit. Fuck. ROBIN. I… " Steve's ranting fades off into the distance as he walks through the curtain still blabbering, hands on his hips, leaving Alex and Robin full on cackling in the back room. 

Not twenty minutes goes by before Robin hears the ding of the bell and a voice that's not Steve's shout "What the fuck did you sell me? My dick is falling off!" The pair’s eyes go wide and dart to look at one another and back at the curtain before they both clamber over one another to push through the curtain. Just about the same time, Murray is emerging from his back office to see what the fuss is about. 

"You need to fix this!" The older suited man from earlier bellows at Steve across the counter.

"Dude, I don't know what you're talking about. Do you mean the tingling?"

"Tingling? My dick is gonna fall off, did you hear me?"

"What the fuck, man! Are you having a reaction?" Steve shouts back. 

"You did this to me!"

Steve’s voice wavers under the weight of the unexpected confrontation, stumbling over words as he attempts to respond. "I-I mean, seriously?" he shakes his head, expressing a blend of confusion and frustration. "I.. what-what the fuck. I didn't do anything!"

"Sir, sir, please calm down and explain what your issue is. If my Associate here made a mistake I'm sure - " he glares over at Steve "he will apologize. Right?" 

"Yeah yeah, Christ. Just… your dick isn't gonna fall off man, let's just figure this out."

And before any of them knows it, the man's dick is out of his pants and slapped on top of the counter for the whole group to see. Even Murray is surprised by this turn of events and hesitates before he can come up with anything to say. "Ok, what the fuck, man?"

This time, more calmly, dick still out on the glass, the man explains that he thinks his dick is going to fall off because it won't stop burning. Steve goes on to recount for the group that yes, that probably is true because the man picked out tingling lube, so he should, justifiably expect some tingling. "Why would I want my dick to burn like this? I thought that meant like… a good orgasm."

"No man, when I said this one tingles, I literally meant it tingles."

"So, that's why my asshole is burning, too?" The buttoned up man whispers to Steve sheepishly. "I- I used a lot."

"Yeah buddy. Yeah... That's… wh-why your asshole is burning, too. How about we… get ya a new one and send you on your way so you can shower? How's that? "

Things go on like this for about a week. Robin and Steve working and Alex popping in daily to spend some time there with them. Murray has taken a liking to her, too. Obviously, with her quick wit and bold nature, they're quite an unruly pair. Robin is often embarrassed as the two of them get into conversation (and sometimes debates) about work, life, Murray's experiences in the 70s, recreational drugs, politics, of course sex and more. Steve often is the brunt of any teasing, which he learns to take with surprising agreeableness, often waving them off as he walks away bitching, but not doing much to hide his smirk at the exchange either. 

In between Alex's shameless flirting with Robin, today's customer comes in and unlike the typical bumbling hesitation so many have when they walk in the sex shop, fresh with the self-perceived shame of coming in a place like this for pleasure, this one marches in with purpose. The man, with perfectly gelled platinum blonde hair and meticulously crafted eyebrows nods at the crew commingled around the register as he beelines it for the BDSM section. 

Its moments later before the man, wearing the tightest jeans Steve has ever seen (and that's saying a lot. He knows his are snug), smacks down the most high end leather whip that the store carries - handles laden in sparkling jewels, the smell of genuine leather catching their noses. "Hey man." He says to Steve, as he waits to be checked out. 

"Bitchin' choice" Robin compliments. 

"Yeah? You like this stuff?"

"Oh fuck no, it's still cool though."

"I gotta be honest, I don't either. But it's not for that. It's part of my outfit - my costume. I do drag and I needed a little something extra for the show next weekend. It just wasn't edgy enough for the new theme."

Alex is immediately interested. "Drag? What's your costume? Do you have a character?" Totally perked up and leaning in to hear more. 

"My drag name is Roxy Royale. We dance at The Rainbow Room downtown. It's a Dungeons and DRAGons show next weekend. I shouldn't spoil it and you should just come to the show to see what I'm wearing!" Emphasizing the drag when he speaks. 

He sees the varying levels of interest on the group's face, ranging from pure excitement to total confusion, the latter of which was written all over Steve's face. "Loads of people come. All different types." He looks directly at Steve and then back to the other two girls, "I promise, it won't make you gay, it's just a good time."

Robin and Alex chime in " .. already there buddy."  Alex looks at Steve, still looking kind of uncomfortable and says "Steve, c'mon. Stop being so Hawkins and let's go." 

Robin hums in agreement before she adds "But you're not wearing a polo." 

The anticipation buzzed in the air as Steve, Robin, and Alex stood in line outside The Rainbow Room, the venue hosting the Dungeons and Dragons drag show. Neon lights illuminated the night, casting a kaleidoscope of colors on the excited crowd. Steve shifted uncomfortably, feeling a mix of nerves and curiosity as he adjusted the collar of one of the new shirts he picked out with the help of Robin and Alex - his polo traded for a simple black short sleeved button up with a collar, Nikes traded for a new pair of Converse, much to Robin's delight. 

Earlier that night, after taking some extra time getting himself ready, he was nervous for the opinion of his friend. "Dude. Yes. Dude! Did you do that all on your own? Cuff up those pants like that? Hell yes. Let's fuckin' go!" And with just that little praise, he felt a little more at ease, but now standing there after Alex just popped open one more button at the top of the collar to show off a little more of his freckle spattered chest and a wisp of the patch of hair hiding underneath, he's trying hard not to be self conscious. 

This was a far cry from the small town house parties he was used to, and his heart raced at the thought of stepping into this new world, especially in these new shoes. Even those first few weekends out at the huge night club didn’t make him feel quite as nervous. Maybe it was a mix of the fact that he was standing in line waiting for a Drag Show and the fact that he’s wearing clothing that he bought specifically to prove to Robin that he can loosen up a little, but he’s feeling more like he doesn’t belong than ever. 

Robin, on the other hand, was practically bouncing on her toes. She couldn't help but shoot excited glances at Alex, who constantly exudes that confident aura that only amplifying Robin's enthusiasm. Alex's arm was casually draped around Robin's shoulders, and she leaned in to press a quick kiss to Robin's temple, a gesture that grounded Robin's nervous energy and filled her with warmth.

As they finally stepped into the venue, the energy enveloped them like a whirlwind. The air was filled with laughter, and the mesmerizing beat of music. Glitter and sequins adorned every corner, reflecting prismatic light off of every surface. The cocktail waitresses had hair teased high and arches in their lipstick drawn just as dramatically. 

"Wow," Steve breathed, his eyes wide as he took in the exuberant surroundings.

"Oh, I can get behind this! Look at these outfits! Everyone looks so AMAZING!” Robin continues to take it all in.

Alex smirks and leans over into Steve, their burgeoning friendship something Steve has found himself grateful for on more than one occasion already, "Don't worry, Steve. Your sense of adventure is about to level up."

They found seats at a table draped with a sequined tablecloth, the anticipation growing as they ordered drinks - one called Ruff'n'Tough for Alex, a Pop My Cherry for Robin, and Steve's, a Sex Panther, which made the girls grin wide and stifle back giggles when he ordered it from the cocktail waitress. 

Despite its delicate pink color from the grenadine, the zip of bourbon against Steve's tongue gives him some simple comfort. Gazing on at the stage adorned with a dragon-themed backdrop, and the lights dimmed as the emcee, Roxy Royale herself, strutted onto the stage in a dazzling, shimmering gown that seemed to change colors with every movement. The trio cheered loudly as Roxy brandished the recognizable whip during her lavish entrance.  

As the performances began, Steve's initial unease slowly melted away. The performers were masters of their craft and it was way less sexual than he honestly expected. The performers' routines merged fantasy, comedy, and sensuality and clearly took a lot of talent. Robin leaned over to Steve, her eyes showing off just how much fun she was having. "See, Stevie? It's all about embracing yourself. Not one person here is having a bad time. Look at them!"

Steve chuckled, feeling himself relax as he watched a performance that involved a sword fight with inflatable dragons, all set to a pulsating dance beat. He found himself clapping and whooping along with the crowd and he couldn’t even hide the fact that he was enjoying himself if he tried. 

Alex leaned over her girlfriend's lap and into Steve's space, her tone playful when she says "Steve… these performers sure know how to wield their swords, wouldn’t you agree."

Steve's cheeks flushed a deep shade of crimson, a mixture of embarrassment and amusement dancing in his eyes. He shook his head and laughed, finally letting go of his reservations. "Total experts." He agrees. 

As the night unfolded, their table became a hub of excitement. They exchanged laughs, stories, and delighted gasps, camaraderie growing stronger with each performance. Steve found himself caught up in the energy, even joining the crowd in dancing as sparkling, iridescent confetti falls from the ceiling during the finale, the group clapping along to Madonna’s “Like a Prayer".  The three are shouting into the crowd, truly not having a care in the world.

Once the performances are over, the crowd congregates and enjoys the pumping beats of the music along with the performers on the dance floor. One big syncopated rhythm running through the entire crowd. Steve had shed his initial reservations completely and was now dancing with newfound confidence, amongst his friends and complete strangers, the dip in his shirt opening just one more button now - maybe by accident, maybe his fingers found their way there on their own and loosened it up just one more notch. Steve won’t admit this out loud, but everything here at this place feels so much safer and enjoyable than any night he’s spent with his friends out at the local clubs. 

When the familiar opening notes of "It's Raining Men" fill the air, the crowd erupts in cheers and claps. All the performers on the floor start catcalling all the men in the crowd as the music starts to pick up and the notes crescendo, energy building along with the beat. 

Suddenly, the room dims slightly, and a spotlight shone on a dazzling figure at the center of the stage. The performer adorned in shimmering hot pants, twirling a rhinestone bedazzled umbrella above her head holds the audience's attention. “I got one more for ya, Bitches!” She exclaims and with a mischievous grin, she scans the crowd. And in a flash, her gaze lands on Steve.

"Oh honey, look who we have here!" The drag queen's voice boomed through the speakers, her words carrying a blend of playfulness and allure.

Steve's eyes widened in surprise as he realized he was being singled out and the crowd is cheering him on. He exchanged glances with Robin and Alex, who were clearly delighted by the turn of events, Robin clapping her hands and jumping up and down like a kid on Christmas. With hot pink tipped nails, the performer extends her hand, beckoning him toward the stage with a flick of her wrist. "C'mon honey. Don't keep me waiting."

With an encouraging nod from his friends, Steve found himself moving toward the stage, his heart racing with a mix of exhilaration and nervousness - but he’s surprised to notice it’s not at all the embarrassment he might have expected. The crowd parted like a sea, creating a path for him to reach the stage. 

Steve reached the stage, feigning as much of his King Steve confidence as possible on the way there, the drag queen held out her hand, her smile inviting and warm. "Come on, sweetheart! Let's show them how it's done!"

Caught up in the moment, Steve took her hand, feeling an unexpected surge of genuine confidence, so he dropped the act, giving her a real, thousand watt beaming smile - the kind he used to use on all the girls back in Hawkins to make them melt. The performer expertly led him into a dance, her movements fluid and engaging and Steve took all the bait. He threw his head back in laughter, matching her steps to the best of his ability while the cheers and whistles of the crowd fueled his ego. 

As the song reached its climax, the performer spun Steve around before twirling herself, their movements synchronized to the music and the crowd roared in approval, the energy radiating through the room.

When the song ended the performer pulled Steve into a theatrical bow, popping her hip out and gesturing towards Steve with open arms, the crowd erupting in applause once again. Steve's cheeks were flushed, happiness painting his expression while his chest heaved up and down from exertion.

After he stepped down from the stage hands reaching out to shake his, clapping at his back out of acknowledgement and camaraderie, he makes his way towards the bar near the back of the room to get himself a drink and take a seat. As he slides out the barstool and slides in, a sweet voice next to him says “Well that was unexpected, Pearl Jam.” 

His eyes snap open, lips barely touching the glass of beer he desperately wants to throw back for hydration, as he looks to his right to find the pretty girl he immediately recognizes from the Record Store. “Pearl Jam? I think that’s a better nickname for you - it’s good by the way. I didn’t think I’d like it, but I’m into it. So thanks, for that.” 

“Hmm, I’m glad you did. I feel accomplished when I do my civic duty and turn random cute strangers on to good music.” You say with a smile, and before Steve can respond, you’re up off your stool and lost in the crowd. Steve is left sitting there sipping his beer, shaking his head with a smile on his lips wondering what your name really is and what brought you here tonight, and only for a split second, did Steve wonder if he's ever run into you again.

By the end of the evening, early morning at this point, the trio finds themselves standing outside The Rainbow Room, faces glowing with joy and a lot of new memories. 

"I can't believe we almost missed this," Steve admitted with a smile, the words carrying a hint of wonder.

Robin bumped her shoulder playfully against Steve's. "Hey, sometimes you just have to roll a natural 20 on your courage check." 

Alex grinned and intertwined her fingers with Robin's. "And look where it took us. An unforgettable night with dragons, glitter, and Steve Harrington dancing on stage twirling an umbrella."

“Listen, and you’d never believe what happens next…” Robin shouts down the bar. 

“Robin! C’mon.” Steve begs. 

“Oh no, Red, you gotta tell us. Please, tell us what happened next.” Murray encourages. Their boss has joined the pair for a few drinks after a late night closing up shop and preparing for The Hideout’s semi-annual sale, so Murray can make room for new inventory after he travels to the annual Adult Novelty Trade Show in Boston in a few weeks. 

“Fine, let me do it. She….they picked me out and I went up on stage.”

“NO.” Murray gasps. Clutching his hand to his chest like he’s grasping onto a set of pearls.

Hopper is slapping the bar in laughter as Joyce pours Steve a shot “Here honey, it’s on the house for all this abuse you’re taking. If you had fun, that’s all that matters.”

“Hop, you should have seen him. It was amazing.” She shouts as she stands over by the jukebox. Before Steve’s brain catches up to Robin’s antics, he realizes too late what she is doing, and the opening bars of “It’s Raining Men” blare over the speakers. 

“NO NO NO!” Murray chants. “THIS was the song? Jesus that’s fuckin priceless, pretty boy.”

After some back and forth debate on whether or not Steve should give an encore performance on the bar of Bennys, the crew opts to forgo that experience in favor of another round. Steve’s treat if only to “Shut you all the fuck up.” 

The group settles into smaller conversations, Hop and Joyce getting the latest scoop on Robin and Alex and their most recent dates at the end of the bar. Joyce, looking on at Robin thrilled and proud like a mother, would be learning about her little girl’s first love. Murray is still seated next to Steve and, unlike his normal taunting of the boy, he genuinely starts asking Steve about how he’s settling in these days.

“Man, it’s been hard actually. I had no idea how little I had myself figured out until I came here. I feel like a fish out of water sometimes, but it’s kinda been fun trying to figure it all out.” Steve ruminates. “Thanks…for actually asking, though.”

“Red really is the only one lucky enough to bag a girl, though? Huh? I don’t mean to always tease, but what’s the deal? I know you got it in you. A face like that, I know. you know how to use it” He settles back into a slight tease. 

Steve takes a few minutes to tell him about Melissa - oh god, what a jab to the ego that was - and a few other mundane dates he set up with random girls he met the night prior at the club or the bar they went out to over the weekend. But what he can't figure out is why they all fell short. Every single one. Despite their agreeableness to meet him in the daylight, they had no real interest in being on a date with him, they only wanted to get liquored up and dance with him in the dark. He’s been either bored to death or strung up and eaten alive and there has been absolutely no in between. 

“Okay, but…have you ever asked a woman out on a date?” He holds his hand up at Steve to cut off his impending rebuttal “NOT a girl. A woman. And not some small town high school date to the movies or the make out point on the bluff. A date where you do something and learn something about each other?”

Steve opens his mouth to respond, but realizes he has nothing to say.

"Dude you gotta lube 'em up before you slide home. I get that you were prom king or whatever but that's not how the world works. Women. Real women are not going to just throw themselves at you because you can flip your hair outta your eyes. "

They both bring their beers up to their lips and Steve considers the man's advice in silence. “Because it sounds like you're trying to catch yourself a good woman but you're out here using bait for girls. Good women know their value and they don't sell themselves short. They did that. Some twerp like you fucked them up one time and they went on a path of self discovery. So if you're laying down fuckboy shit, that's all you'll get in return.”

Steve nods, taking in what Murray has to say and thinking hard. "Yeah, that…makes more sense than I want to even admit. Especially to you.” The pair exchange a glance and Steve stretches out his beer towards Murray, who bears his teeth wide as he reaches back to clink his glass with Steves.

"Stevie, c'mere!" He hears Robin call from her bedroom.

"What! Robin. I swear to God you two better be clothed." 

The door creaking open slowly, he's met with Robin and Alex laying with their backs on the floor, snuggled close together, legs propped up in the air on the bed. "Nah, no Afternoon Delight in here today."

"Robin, where in the hell do you keep coming up with these? For a girl who wouldn't talk about boobies with me a few years ago, this is ridiculous."

"What can I say, I'm coming -" she says suggestively with a wink "- into my own. "

"Ok that's enough Sex Talk with Robin, whaddya want?"

Steve jumps onto Robin's bed, bouncing a bit as the mattress settles, legs crossing theirs and looking down on the pair tangled on the floor. After a lead-in of stumbling, stuttering worlds from Robin, Alex interrupts her girlfriend to save everyone from the stress induced misery "As you surely can see, Robin is a little stressed." 

"Yeah, what about, Robbie?"

"This little lady here wants to see if you want to join us tonight."

He looks at Robin and then back at Alex confused "Were not hanging out tonight, it's your weekly date night? " 

The pair go on to explain how Robin is worried because Murray told her he's not actually going on dates when they are out on theirs and it's giving her a complex about leaving her best friend behind. For a moment he's irritated that Murray would open his cocky big mouth like that, but he takes a second to consider that it wasn't to talk about him behind his back and make fun of him. After their heart to heart at the bad, he can see that Murray actually means well. 

"Robbie, look at me. It's okay. I'm not sitting around moping. I… I actually go out on my own. Enjoy a meal, try a new drink. It's nice actually. Did you know I actually like red wine? And.. maybe I'll third wheel on another day - that's NOT your date night. I'll take you to one of the places I found. It's… I promise I'm actually really good with it. I don't feel lonely when you're out together. "And it's the softness in his moss colored eyes that's the only thing that put Robin at ease. She was just so concerned that leaving him alone made him feel the same as he did in Hawkins, but she could see that her friend was being honest. She could see that he meant it when he didn't feel lonely and she believed him. 

And so instead of quietly dusting off on his own after Robin leaves on her date, they get ready together. Alex assuring them that they both look great, Steve needing more encouragement than Robin as he digs into the pile of new clothing again, he eventually just lets the pair pick out his options, leaving him with well fitting black denim, opting for the comfort of the black chucks he's already taken to wearing. "Cuff 'em again, hot stuff. That was a good look for you." Robin mentions as she finishes off his outfit by handing him a deep emerald green short sleeve button up with subtle little vertical stripes running its length. 

"Do me a favor, and leave it open. Don't button yourself up. You get too stuffy." He glares at Robin, getting a little bold with her opinion "... Please." She tacks on with a forced smile.

The three exit the building together and even take the train as a group until Alex tugs at Robin's hand signaling the end of their ride. Steve has a few more stops, so he settles into his seat solo as he waves at the girls, shouting after them to have a good night and stay out of trouble.

The sun is setting over the city now, casting shadows through orange and lavender tinted clouds as he approaches a restaurant downtown that looks interesting and has space at the bar. It's a little more sleek than he normally would pick out, shiny bar laden with expensive looking cocktails and bottles behind the bar, patrons sprinkled through the dining area tucked in close to one another on dates or crowded around raucous tables fill of businessmen after work. Steve's moving his fingers and toying absentmindedly with the buttons of his shirt hanging loose as he slides in to the last open spot at the bar.

After enjoying his meal and having a few glasses of wine, whatever the bartender recommend, he sits back and enjoys a moment of people watching. Considering what kind of stories all of these other people have. If the bartender always lived in the city or came here running away from something; If the two women next to him fiddling with their wedding rings love their husbands at all after overhearing their complaints over cosmos all night; if the men in business suits at the corner table closed a deal today or are just so rich they do this every week.

He wonders if the girl sitting with his back to him is on a first or maybe a third… quickly deciding it had to be a first date by the way they weren't touching and how he saw her leg bouncing. But it's the way she throws back her half full glass of wine in one gulp tells him that she's not having a good time, so with nothing better to do he decides to watch someone else's date go down in flames, and continues sipping while glancing their way. 

Steve noticed that the date, buttoned up and looking a little stuffy with his hair slicked back, almost looking wet, and his fingers tapping along to nothing in particular on the table has not stopped talking - at least since Steve's last glass was refilled. Unsurprisingly, the girl raises to her feet gesturing in the direction of the bathroom, and Steve readjusts to make sure it's not so obvious he's watching. 

But it's on her way back, heels clicking along the shiny tiles of the restaurant that Steve chances a glance and knows exactly who this mystery woman is. Well, not exactly. He has no idea what your name is, but he knows exactly who you are. The girl from the record store. Pearl Jam. And it seems as though you recognize him, too, eyes catching one another just for an instant as you pass.

Now he’s distracted. You’ve never stayed put long enough in the two times you’ve crossed paths previously for him to truly take you in, so he’s doing it now. Drinking you in like the wine in his hand. He can see now, from this angle, the curve of your nose and makes particular note of the way your hair falls. He wonders for a moment what it feels like when someone runs their fingers through it. He sees the deep color of your eyes, and can tell by the way you’re sitting and carrying yourself in the face of a date that looks like a total douchebag that you aren’t easy to impress, nor are you easy to rattle. Stubborn, I bet, Steve thinks to himself.

Looking at his watch, one of the only nice things his dad ever bought him that he chose to bring along in this new life, he decides one more drink is about enough before heading home. Mid-way through his last glass, he sees the table you and the date were occupying is being bussed, presumed bad date over. Steve pays the bartender, and tips well. Probably too well for his Sex Shop Salary, but it’s at least one good habit he learned from his otherwise despicable father. 

Stepping outside of the restaurant, Steve immediately sees you standing near the curb across the street, searching through your bag with a mixture of frustration and annoyance evident on your face. Steve observed from a distance, his curiosity piqued seeing you standing there alone. As you reach your hand out to hail a cab while continuing to rifle through your pocketbook, Steve hesitated for a moment before making a decision. He crossed the street, his steps purposeful. As he approaches, you looked up from your bag, and for a brief moment, your eyes met. Steve offered a friendly smile, hoping to ease any awkwardness.

"Need some help, Pearl Jam?" he asked, his voice carrying a touch of warmth.

You blinked in surprise, then sighed in relief. "Actually, yes. My date's idea of chivalry didn't include paying for the cab fare. Or my meal for that matter. Told me I seemed to be into feminism and all so I should have no problem covering my own meal. Can you believe that shit? So..I think I'm short on a goddamn cab and...." 

Steve chuckled, "Well, that doesn't sound very chivalrous at all."

With a sheepish grin, you shrugged. "Yeah, tell me about it. Lesson learned, I guess."

As the cab pulls up, Steve offers you a solution. “Which way are you going? We can share instead?” and he can see the relief roll off of your shoulders. 

“At this point, I don’t even care which direction you’re going. I’ll join you as long as it’s away from here.” 

Steve's lips twitched with amusement. "Sounds like you're having quite the night."

You rolled your eyes, then glanced at him. "How about you? Just leaving the restaurant? Where's your date?"

"Yeah, just finishing up, and there was no date. Just me." Steve replied. "Honestly, it's been a pretty uneventful evening until now." He flashes a smile.

And as the cab ride continued, both you and Steve found that the conversation flowed easily. Now, to his great pleasure, he knows your actual name. He knows that, though you look too young to be so accomplished, you work at Loyola University and are a professor teaching both psychology and art and blending the two as often as you can in special topic courses. He learns you have been in the city for five years, and you were at the Drag Show with some of your Art Department colleagues. When he realizes you're waiting for him to share the same details about himself, you see the glimmer of something that looks like shame in his eyes. 

"Well, I just kind of moved here. It's… it's going. Not exactly where I thought I'd be with my life so .."

"Steve, it's okay you don't have to be doing big things to be a good guy. You know that right?" You say, hand on his forearm in an attempt to encourage him, but instead its setting off electrical charges he can't ignore. 

"Yeah, I mean… well I was at the Drag Show because one of our customers was the Emcee and invited us. She.. uh, bought her whip from the store my roommate and I work at. It's not a long term thing - God at least I hope it's not - shit. But.. yeah it's what I'm doing anyway so… " he trails off and shrugs. Praying to God you don't think he's some kind of loser. 

And if you do, you don't show it. You don't press and you let him say just as much as he wants. The rest of the car ride is friendly and Steve has coaxed at least three fits of giggles out of you. He makes a mental note that he's done more in the 15 minute cab ride than he is sure your stupid date did all meal. 

As you reached your destination, you paid the cab fare with a grateful smile. "Thanks for the help and the company. You sure turned my date night around. I was so excited for dessert but that guy was so awful I needed to get away as quickly as possible. So I guess this cab ride was my sweet treat. " you said.

Steve nodded, feeling a sense of camaraderie. "No problem at all. Hey, I know a thing or two about ice cream. If you're still in the mood for that dessert?"

You chuckled, the offer catching you by surprise. "Ice cream actually sounds pretty tempting right about now. Might be just what I need to soothe the sting of another bad first date."

"Well, lucky for you, I don't give a shit if you're a feminist, I still won't make a pretty girl pay for it. That's just stupidity."

The two of you walked into a nearby ice cream parlor, the neon lights creating a warm glow on your skin. As you shared stories over scoops of your favorite flavors, time seemed to slip away. You spent loads of time hearing about Robin and their awful job history, and spent some more dissecting each other's musical tastes, promising the boy that you had more albums up your sleeve that you think he'd be into, too. 

After the drag show and the unexpected chance meeting at the restaurant, hanging out with you felt like a natural progression. As you finished your ice cream, Steve looked at you with a grin. "So, now that we've established our mutual fear of bad first dates and love for ice cream, how about we make hanging out a more intentional thing? See if we have even more in common?"

You chuckled, a sparkle in your eyes. "I think I can get behind that idea." 

Coming up the elevator just a few minutes later, Steve was feeling lighter than air. He paid no mind to the buzzing of the fluorescent lights in the hallways or the predictable shouting from the neighbors place as he approached his front door. Jangling his keychain to get his key loose from the mess he notices that his Tamagotchi is… gone. It's the first one he's lost prematurely since Robin got the stupid things and he rolls his eyes knowing she's going to eat this up when he tells her in the morning. 

Walking into the foyer he notices Robin's shoes and keys on the hook, signaling that she and Alex must be tucked away in her room by now. He honestly doesn't want to hang out with them anyway. He shuffles down the hallway, running his finger along the wall lazily before slipping into his own bedroom. Closing the door behind him and pressing his body up against it, his mind drifts right back to how you looked in the back of that cab. 

God, how could one person he's run into a total of three times be wrapping themselves into his conciseness like a vine. Is this the thing Murray was talking about? The whole woman thing? Because you were not like any of the girls he has been taking to the coffee shop and never seeing again. Not like any of the girls who fawned over his megawatt smile and pulled their panties to the side just for the bragging rights. Not like any of the city girls who take take take at the club only to stumble their way home on their friends arms instead at the end of the night.

The thought intimidated the shit out of him. He could make a list as long as his bedsheets why someone like you shouldn't waste their time on Steve Harrington. Far from a King, yet you still made him feel worth your time. Maybe it was all for show, the guy you conned into paying the cab fare too distracted to notice. And you didn't have to try that hard. He was distracted, that's for sure. 

At first it was seeing your eyes up close. Bright and sparkling, eyelashes batting with just enough makeup to make you look more beautiful, not to make you beautiful. To make the color of your eyes pop. That was nice, but when you touched his forearm in the back of the cab, your skin soft and smelling of lavender and cedarwood, you filled his senses and made him twitch. And then when you leaned over the table in the ice cream shop to offer him a taste of your peanut butter swirl ice cream, the neckline in your silk top dipped low and showed off just a shadow of what you were hiding under there and he felt his heels tap on the floor to get his mind on something else. 

All those distractions were flooding Steve's senses right now, hitting him all at once. He moved away from the doorway and over towards his record player - slipping the only stupid album he wants to play right now out of its sleeve and onto the turntable. Lowering the needle, as the static breaks the air and the first bars of "Ocean" break the silence, he sighs. Leaning over his dresser he looks up at himself in the reflection of his mirror. Murray was fuckin' right. He thinks. He did need to stop being what girls want. He wants to be what you want. What a woman like you even deserves. 

Before Steve even knows it the black of his denim is pulled taught over his crotch and he shakes his head "Ah fuck… I… I gotta… " he whispers out to no one in particular as he unhooks the buckle of his belt, button and zipper following quickly behind. Haphazardly, he pulls the undershirt from where it's tucked in around his waist and frees himself, the throwing his head back to the melodies coming from his speakers, the heavy weight of his cock in his hand and thoughts of you running rampant through his mind. 

Fuck. He doesn't even know you. Barely. But he can't help but run his thumb across his slit all while thinking about that peek of collarbone you gifted him from across the table, whimpering as he gathers the bead of precum gathered there at his tip. Needing more, and fast, he has no time to rummage through his drawers or run down the hallway to the bathroom to find a bottle of sample lube he snagged from work. 

Still leaning over his dresser, arm braced over the top, Steve opens his other hand and brings it up, spitting a large glob into its palm before bringing it back down and around himself, throbbing and angry red with the thought of you. His cool palm finally moving, chasing a relief that he needs more than he knew, he finds himself gasping out your name - the one he learned just hours before - as if you gave him permission. 

It feels lewd. Like he's taking advantage of a woman that's too good for him. Even still, he can't help but close his eyes and imagine it's you burrowing between his thighs. Imagine what the wet of your soft mouth might feel like wrapped around him, or the skin of your palms working him up instead. Steve shivers as he thinks about it, thighs tensing underneath himself - the pleasure growing fast and twisting the knot in his stomach taught. 

It's only been a few minutes but he quickly sheds his button up and undershirt wiping up the sweat gathering on his chest, his neck, his forehead before throwing it to the ground at his feet. His fist is moving, but he's trying to pace himself, taking a slow breath in followed by a calculated exhale through his nose.

His eyes are squeezed shut and head thrown back, sweat dripping down the gullet of his neck, bared to a woman who isn't there to nip at it. Leave her marks. Christ, they would probably be hot. Bruises right next to red lipstick like the one you wore for your date tonight.

Body tensing, thighs tighten under him making his whole self drive against the dresser. He falls forward, forearm resting on the top of the furniture, forehead coming down to rest on his forearm, hand moving along his worked up cock at a feverish pace. Taking a moment to give himself a squeeze along his shaft, he relishes in the tightened grip, then circles his sensitive head before returning to his bruising pace. 

He's chasing that high, gasping out your name, labored breathing and moans Robin and Alex could certainly hear if they weren't up to their own bad deeds in the room next door. "Oh fuck. Oh fuck, fuck. Jesus, I wanna give it to you - shit." 

The warmth is bubbling over from his belly and down through the base of his dick, vein running up the underside pulsing along with his racing heartbeat. The warmth of more precome dribbles out of his tip, baiting him to keep going - not to let up. When his abs tighten this last time, he slaps the dresser in front of him as ropes of come spurt out, once, twice, three spurts covering his hand and dribbling down his crotch and onto his dark denim.

He hasn't come like that in forever. And all it took was a cab ride with you and imagining your mischievous, bright eyes when he came. Once he gathers himself, he glares into his own eyes through the mirror, running his clean hand through his hair as he still grasps his softening, dripping cock and says go himself "I can not fuck this up." 

Divider by @firefly-graphics

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Series Masterlist

SexShop!Steve x Reader : SexShop!Robin x OC

TAGLIST: @livsters @katie-tibo@johnricharddeacy@angywritesstuff@k-k0129@tisthedamnseason69@middle-of-the-earth@thebrazilianatheist@mochminnie@micheledawn1975@falling-throughthe-hourglass@rafaaoli@ash5monster01@gabessock @onyxslayss @scoopshxrrington@superblysubpar

[palmtreesx3]

GET OFF: The V-Card Moodboard

Chapter OUT NOW!

Series Masterlist

SexShop!Steve x Reader : SexShop!Robin x OC

🏷️ TAGLIST: @livsters @katie-tibo @johnricharddeacy @angywritesstuff @k-k0129 @tisthedamnseason69 @middle-of-the-earth @thebrazilianatheist  @mochminnie @micheledawn1975 @falling-throughthe-hourglass @rafaaoli

[palmtreesx3]

Get Off: Series Moodboard

(or Steve and Robin Get a Job at a Sex Shop)

Series Masterlist

🏷️TAGLIST: @livsters @katie-tibo @johnricharddeacy @angywritesstuff @k-k0129 @tisthedamnseason69

[palmtreesx3]

GET OFF: Part 2 Exploration Mood Board

Lubed Up

Coming Soon!

Series Masterlist

SexShop!Steve x Reader : SexShop!Robin x OC

🏷️ TAGLIST: @livsters @katie-tibo @johnricharddeacy @angywritesstuff @k-k0129 @tisthedamnseason69 @middle-of-the-earth @thebrazilianatheist @mochminnie @micheledawn1975 @falling-throughthe-hourglass @rafaaoli @ash5monster01 @gabessock @onyxslayss

[palmtreesx3]

If you're feeling tingly about this and have thots I wanna hear em. I'm feeling invested in creating this scenario.

Uh... STEVE FIC WHERE HE AND ROBIN WORK IN A SEX SHOP

Does it already exist??? and if not. I need to discuss this further at length......

[musicoviniciusrodrigues]

Todos os filmes originais Netflix, classificados do pior ao melhor

A Netflix está investindo cada vez mais na produção de filmes exclusivos. Mais de três centenas deles já foram lançados, e todos estão disponíveis na plataforma do serviço de streaming. A Bula avaliou as produções originais e as reuniu em uma lista, organizada do pior ao melhor filme. O ranking levou em conta as notas atribuídas aos títulos no IMDb, uma das maiores plataformas de cinema do mundo. Alguns destaques são: “Roma” (2018), de Alfonso Cuarón, que ganhou o Oscar de Melhor Filme Estrangeiro em 2019; e “História de Um Casamento” (2019), dirigido por Noah Baumbach, que concorre em seis categorias do Globo de Ouro 2020. É importante lembrar que a lista não tem intenção de ser universal ou definitiva, apenas representa as avaliações recebidas pelos filmes na plataforma pesquisada.

304 — Drive (2019), Tarun Mansukhani

303 — The Ridiculous 6 (2015), Frank Coraci

302 — Zerando a Vida (2016), Steven Brill

301 — O Aplicativo (2019), Elisa Fuksas

300 — Perda Total (2018), Kyle Newacheck

299 — Dívida Perigosa (2017), Martin Zandvliet

298 — Sandy Wexler (2017), Steve Brill

297 — Quatro Histórias de Fantasmas (2020), Zoya Akhtar e outros

296 — Seis Vezes Confusão (2019), Michael Tiddes

295 — Fica Comigo (2017), Brent Bonacorso

294 — A Barraca do Beijo (2018), Vince Marcello

293 — The Silence (2019), John R. Leonetti

292 — O Príncipe do Natal (2017), Alex Zamm

291 — Obsessão Secreta (2019), Peter Sullivan

290 — O Príncipe do Natal: O Casamento Real (2018), John Schult

289 — A História Real de um Assassino Falso (2016), Jeff Wadlow

288 — Cascavel (2019), Zak Hilditch

287 — Mudo (2018), Duncan Jones

286 — Crazy Trips: Budapeste (2019), Xavier Gens

285 — O Feitiço de Natal (2018), Bradley Walsh

284 — Pai do Ano (2018), Tyler Spindel

283 — A Babá (2017), McG

282 — Io (2019), Jonathan Helpert

281 — Blockbuster (2017), July Hygreck

280 — Bright (2017), David Ayer

279 — iBOY (2017), Adam Randall

278 — TAU (2018), Federico D’Alessandro

277 — Tribu Urbana Dance (2018), Fernando Colomo

276 — #realityhigh (2017), Fernando Lebrija

275 — Quando nos Conhecemos (2018), Ari Sandel

274 — O Natal Está no Ar (2019), Leslie Small

273 — Dude – A Vida é Assim (2018), Olivia Milch

272 — A Volta Por Cima (2019), Remy Four

271 — The Cloverfield Paradox (2018), Julius Onah

270 — O Príncipe do Natal: O Bebê Real (2019), John Schultz

269 — Death Note (2017), Adam Wingard

268 — Feliz Aniversário de Casamento (2018), Jared Stern

267 — Crush à Altura (2019), Nzingha Stewart

266 — Vende-se Esta Casa (2018), Matt Angel e Suzanne Coote

265 — Extinção (2018), Bem Young

264 — Cartão de Natal (2017), Ernie Barbarash

263 — David Brent: A Vida na Estrada (2018), Ricky Gervais

262 — Revenger (2018), Lee Seung-won

261 — O Caderno de Sara (2018), Norberto López Amado

260— Dead Kids (2019), Mikhail Red

259 — XOXO: A Vida é Uma Festa (2016), Christopher Louie

258 — Paradox (2016), Michael Hurst

257 — Special Correspondents (2016), Ricky Gervais

256 — Preso em Casa (2019), Samit Basu

255 — Próxima Parada: Apocalipse (2018), David. M. Rosenthal

254 — Nu (2017), Michael Tiddes

253 — Pato Pato Ganso (2018), Chris Jenkins

252 — Polar (2019), Jonas Åkerlund

251 — Amor em Obras (2019), Roger Kumble

250 — No Ritmo da Sedução (2018), Tinge Krishnan

249 — The After Party (2018), Ian Edelman

248 — Dia da Namorada (2017), Michael Paul Stephenson

247 — Gostos e Cores (2017), Myriam Aziza

246 — Mistério no Mediterrâneo (2019), Kyle Newacheck

245 — A Princesa e a Plebeia (2018), Michael Rohl

244 — Um Passado de Presente (2019), Monika Mitchell

243 — Modo Avião (2020), César Rodrigues

242 — A Última Gargalhada (2019), Greg Pritikin

241 — Pelas Ruas de Paris (2019), Élisabeth Vogler

240 — Pássaro do Oriente (2019), Wash Westmoreland

239 — Órbita 9 (2017), Hatem Khraiche

238 — Mãe e Muito Mais (2019), Cindy Chupack

237 — Duda e os Gnomos (2017), Peter Lepeniotis

236 — Suzzanna: Buried Alive (2019), Rocky Soraya

235 — Contando os Segundos (2016), Priyadarshan

234 — O Limite da Traição (2020), Tyler Perry

233 — Castelo de Areia (2017), Fernando Coimbra

232 — Natal 5 Estrelas (2018), Marco Risi

231 — Lá Vêm Os Pais (2018), Robert Smigel

230 — Esquadrão 6 (2019), Michael Bay

229 — O Terceiro Olho (2018), Rocky Soraya

228 — O Casamento de Ali (2018), Jeffrey Walker

227 — Campo do Medo (2019), Vincenzo Natali

226 — Juanita (2019), Clark Johnson

225 — A Escalada (2017), Ludovic Bernard

224 — Boneca Maldita (2018), Rocky Soraya

223 — A Mulher Mais Odiada dos Estados Unidos (2017), Tommy O’Haver

222 — Clinical (2017), Alistair Legrand

221 — À Queima-Roupa (2019), Joe Lynch

220 — Entre Realidades (2020), Jeff Baena

219 — Yucatán (2019), Daniel Monzón

218 — Anon (2018), Andrew Niccol

217 — Eli (2019), Ciarán Foy

216 — Mercy (2016), Chris Sparling

215 — O Professor de Música (2019), Sarthak Dasgupta

214 — Iris (2016), Jalil Lespert

213 — Shimmer Lake (2017), Oren Uziel

212 — Estrada Sem Lei (2019), John Lee Hancock

211 — Spectral (2016)

210 — Insana (2017), Gerard Barrett

209 — Doce Argumento (2018), Bem Shelton

208 — Missão: Moedas (2017), Emily Hagins

207 — Close (2019), Vicky Jewson

206 — Mascots (2016), Christopher Guest

205 — Loja de Unicórnios (2019), Brie Larson

204 — Fé de Etarras (2017), Borja Cobeaga

203 — Batalhas (2018), Katarina Launing

202 — Deixe a Neve Cair (2019), Luke Snellin

201 — Quem Tem Carma Nunca Alcança (2017), Nikhil Bhat

200 — The Dirt: Confissões do Mötley Crue (2019), Jeff Tremaine

199 — Ánimas (2019), José F. Ortuño e Laura Alvea

198 — O Chefe (2018), Sergio Barrejón

197 — Desaparecida (2018), Alejandro Montiel

196 — Perfeita Para Você (2018), Stephanie Laing

195 — Pequeno Demônio (2017), Eli Craig

194 — Kodachrome (2018), Mark Raso

193 — Malevolent (2018), Olaf de Fleur Johannesson

192 — Siga Pela 10 (2017), Chester Tam

191 — Asfalto de Sangue (2019), Yann Gozlan

190 — O Homem Sem Gravidade (2019), Marco Bonfanti

189 — Quando os Anjos Dormem (2018), Gonzalo Bendala

188 — Sequestrando Stella (2019), Thomas Sieben

187 — Alguém Especial (2019), Jennifer Kaytin Robinson

186 — Onde Está Segunda? (2017), Tommy Wirkola

185 — Caído do Céu (2019), José Pepe Bojórquez

184 — Between Two Ferns: O Filme (2019), Scott Aukerman

183 — Handsome: Um Filme de Mistério Netflix (2017), Jeff Garlin

182 — Sombra Lunar (2019), Jim Mickle

181 — Saara (2017), Pierre Coré

180 — Surdo (2020), Alfonso Cortés-Cavanillas

179 — Sonhos Lúcidos (2017), Kim Joon-sung

178 — Firebrand (2019), Aruna Raje

177 — O Banqueiro da Resistência (2018), Joram Lursen

176 — Sierra Burgess é Uma Loser (2018), Ian Samuels

175 — Slam (2017), Andrea Molaioli

174 — ARQ (2016), Tony Elliot

173 — Ibiza: Tudo Pelo DJ (2018), Alex Richanbach

172 — Sementes Podres (2018), Kheiron

171 — Les Affamés (2017), Robin Aubert

170 — O Centenário que Saiu Sem Pagar a Conta e Sumiu (2016), Felix e Mans Herngren

169 — Benji (2018), Brandon Camp

168 — Natal em El Camino (2017), David E. Talbert

167 — Rebirth (2016), Karl Mueller

166 — Eu Não Sou um Homem Fácil (2018), Eleonore Purriat

165 — O autor (2017), Manuel Martin Cuenca

164 — Noite de Lobos (2018), Jeremy Saulnier

163 — Código de Silêncio (2017), Gerard McMurray

162 — Brahman Naman (2016), Qaushiq Mukherjee

161 — Resgate do Coração (2019), Ernie Barbarash

160 — O Matador (2017), Marcelo Galvão

159 — Até que a Gente te Separe (2019), Madeleine Sami e Jackie van Beek

158 — O Aviso (2018), Daniel Calparsoro

157 — Perdoai as Nossas Dívidas (2018), Antonio Morabito

156 — Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon: Sword of Destiny (2016), Yuen Wo-Ping

155 — Carga Bruta (2015), Julien Leclercq

154 — Minha Primeira Luta (2018), Olivia Newman

153 — Partida Fria (2020), Lukasz Kosmicki

152 — King: Uma História de Vingança (2017), Fabrice Du Welz

151 — Andar Montar Rodeio (2019), Conor Allyn

150 — O Anjo de Mossad (2018), Ariel Vormen

149 — Solo (2019), Hugo Stuven

148 — Jadotville (2016), Richie Smyth

147 — Errementari: O Ferreiro e O Diabo (2018), Paul Urkijo Alijo

146 — Tallulah (2016), Sian Heder

145 — O Ritual (2017), David Bruckner

144 — O Fotógrafo de Mauthausen (2019), Mar Targarona

143 — The Titan (2018), Lennart Ruff

142 — Pickpockets (2017), Peter Webber

141 — 15 de Agosto (2019), Swapnaneel Jaykar

140 — American Son (2019), Kenny Leon

139 — Amador (2018), Ryan Koo

138 — Crônicas de Natal (2018), Clay Kaytis

137 — O Date Perfeito (2019), Chril Nelson

136 — Steel Rain (2018), Yang Woo-seok

135 — Soni (2018), Ivan Ayr

134 — Missão no Mar Vermelho (2019), Gideon Raff

133 — The Discovery (2017), Charlie McDowell

132 — As Leis da Termodinâmica (2018), Mateo Gil

131 — Velvet Buzzsaw (2019), Dan Gilroy

130 — Mindhorn (2017), Sean Foley

129 — Farol das Orcas (2016), Gerardo Olivares

128 — Barry (2016), Vikram Gandhi

127 — Apostando Tudo (2017), Joe Swanberg

126 — 6 Balões (2018), Marja Lewis Ryan

125 — Mogli – Entre Dois Mundos (2018), Andy Serkis

124 — A Caminho da Fé (2018), Joshua Marston

123 — Fortuna Maldita (2018), Timo Tjahjanto

122 — Quem Você Levaria Para Uma Ilha Deserta? (2019), Jota Linares

121 — 4L (2019), Gerardo Olivares

120 — O Pacote (2018), Jake Szymanski

119 — Caninos Brancos (2018), Alexandre Espigares

118 — Next Gen (2018), Kevin R. Adams e Joe Ksander

117 — Step Sisters (2017), Charles Stone III

116 — Calibre (2018), Matt Palmer

115 — Árvore de Sangue (2019), Julio Medem

114 — Quatro Histórias de Desejo (2018), Zoya Aktar, Karan Johar e Dibakar Banerjee

113 — War Machine (2017), David Michôd

112 — FullMetal Alchemist (2017), Fumihiko Sori

110 — Operação Fronteira (2019), J. C. Chandor

109 — One Two Jaga (2018), Nam Ron

108 — Pequenos Delitos (2017), Evan Katz

107 — Rock My Heart (2019), Hanno Olderdissen

106 — O Natal de Angela (2018), Damien O’Connor

105 — Street Flow (2019), Kery James

104 — Hip-Hop Beats (2019), Chris Robinson

103 — El Potro: Lo Mejor Del Amor (2018), Lorena Muñoz

102 — 7 Ãnos (2016), Roger Gual

101 — Deidra e Laney Assaltam um Trem (2017), Sidney Freeland

100 — Roxanne Roxanne (2018), Michael Larnell

99 — Tal Pai, Tal Filha (2018), Lauren Miller Rogen

98 — Godzilla: O Devorador de Planetas (2018), Kobun Shizuno e Hiroyuki Seshita

97 — O Rei da Polca (2018), Maya Forbes

96 — Sonhos Imperiais (2014), Malik Vitthal

95 — Shaft (2019), Tim Story

94 — Bayoneta (2019), Kyzza Terrazas

93 — Illang: A Brigada Lobo (2018), Kim Jee-woon

92 — Maktub (2018), Oded Raz

91 — Rajma Chawal (2018), Leena Yadav

90 — Na Própria Pele – O Caso Stefano Cucchi (2018), Alessio Cremonini

89 — Nossas Noites (2017), Ritesh Batra

88 — Manhunt (2017), Andrew Sodroski, Jim Clemente e Tony Gittelson

87 — Fútil e Inútil (2018), David Wain

86 — A Noite nos Persegue (2018), Timo Tjahjanto

85 — Bird Box (2018), Susanne Bier

84 — Alex Strangelove (2018), Craig Johnson

83 — A Lavanderia (2019), Steven Soderbergh

82 — Pee-wee’s Big Holiday (2016), John Lee

81 — 1922 (2017), Zak Hilditch

80 — Minha Primeira Caçada (2018), Jody Hill

79 — Gun City (2018), Dani de la Torre

78 — O Mínimo Para Viver (2017), Marti Noxon

77 — Felicidade Por um Fio (2018), Haifaa Al-Mansour

76 — 22 de Julho (2018), Paul Greengrass

75 — Upstarts (2019), Udai Singh Pawar

74 — Gente de Bem (2018), Nicole Holofcener

73 — Lionheart (2018), Genevieve Nnaji

72 — Mudbound (2017), Dee Rees

71 — Apóstolo (2018), Gareth Evans

70 — O Último Capítulo (2018), Osgood Perkins

69 — Mademoiselle Vingança (2019), Emmanuel Mouret

68 — Joy (2019), Sudabeh Mortezai

67 — Seu Filho (2019), Miguel Ángel Vivas

66 — O Sono da Morte (2016), Mike Flanagan

65 — Inspire, Expire (2019), Ísold Uggadóttir

64 — Girl (2019), Lukas Dhont

63 — Blame! (2017) – Hiroyuki Seshita

62 — Wheelman (2017), Jeremy Rush

61 — Psychokinesis (2018), Yeon Sang-ho

60 — Elisa Y Marcela (2019), Isabel Coixet

59 — Juventude Assassina (2018), Isao Yukisada

58 — Bleach (2018), Shinsuke Sato

57 — Layla M. (2016), Mijke de Jong

56 — Sob a Pele do Lobo (2018), Samu Fuentes

55 — Paskal: Missão Resgate (2019), Cheng Kin-Kwok

54 — A Incrível Jessica James (2017), Jim Strouse

53 — High Flying Bird (2019), Steven Soderbergh

52 — O Plano Imperfeito (2018), Claire Scanlon

51 — A Sociedade Literária e a Torta de Casca de Batata (2018), Mike Newell

50 — Já Não Me Sinto em Casa Nesse Mundo (2017), Macon Blair

49 — Shirkers – O Filme Roubado (2018), Sandi Tan

48 — Amor por Metro Quadrado (2018), Anand Tiwari

47 — Atlantique (2019), Mati Diop

46 — Jogo Perigoso (2017), Mike Flanagan

45 — Corpo e Alma (2017), Ildikó Enyedi

44 — Dumplin’ (2018), Anne Fletcher

43 — Cargo (2018), Yolanda Ramke e Ben Howling

42 — O Mundo é Seu (2018), Romain Gavras

41 — Para Todos os Garotos que Já Amei (2018), Susan Johnson

40 — Uma Terra Imaginada (2018), Yeo Siew Hua

39 — Tempestade de Areia (2016), Elite Zexer

38 — Dear Ex (2019), Mag Hsu e Hsu Chih-yen

37 — Legítimo Rei (2018), David Mackenzie

36 — Mais Uma Página (2018), Kagiso Lediga

35 — Divinas (2016), Houda Benyamina

34 — Uma Viagem à Groelândia (2016), Sébastien Betbeder

33 — Tempo Compartilhado (2018), Sebastián Hofmann

32 — Está Tudo Certo (2019), Eva Trobisch

31 — Dovlatov (2018), Aleksey German Jr.

30 — My Happy Family (2017), Nana Ekvtimishvili e Simon Gross

29 — O Pequeno Príncipe (2015), Mark Osborne

28 — A Mala e os Errantes (2017), Adam Leon

27 — Meu Eterno Talvez (2019), Nahnatchka Khan

26 — O Vazio de Domingo (2017), Ramón Salazar

25 — Durante a Tormenta (2019), Oriol Paulo

24 — A Noite de 12 anos (2018), Alvaro Brechner

23 — Viver Duas Vezes (2020), Maria Ripoll

22 — Os Meyerowitz: Família Não se Escolhe (2017), Noah Baumbach

21 — First They Killed My Father (2017), Angelina Jolie

20 — Um Homem de Sorte (2019), Lykke-Per

19 — Amizades Improváveis (2016), Rob Burnett

18 — O Outro Lado do Vento (2018), Orson Welles

17 — Paddleton (2019), Alex Lehmann

16 — Dezessete (2019), Daniel Sánchez Arévalo

15 — Pérolas no Mar (2018), Rene Liu

14 — Okja (2017), Joon-ho Bong

13 — Meu Nome é Dolemite (2019), Craig Brewer

12 — O Rei (2019), David Michôd

11 — Lazzaro Felice (2018), Alice Rohrwacher

10 — Joias Brutas (2020), Benny e Josh Safdie

Howard Ratner é o dono de uma loja de joias que está cheio de dívidas por jogos de apostas. Para resolver sua situação, ele quer vender uma pedra não lapidada enviada diretamente da Etiópia. Inicialmente, Howard oferece a joia a um de seus clientes assíduos, mas depois percebe que pode lucrar muito mais indo à leilão. Só que, antes disso, ele precisa driblar os cobradores que o perseguem.

9 — A Balada de Buster Scruggs (2018), Ethan e Joel Cohen

Trabalhando pela primeira vez com a Netflix, os famosos irmãos Coen idealizaram uma antologia faroeste. O filme reúne seis curtas com histórias diferentes, mas que ocorreram no mesmo local, a fronteira selvagem do velho oeste. Os episódios seguem os capítulos do livro fictício “A Balada de Buster Scruggs e Outros Contos da Fronteira Americana”.

8 — O Menino que Descobriu o Vento (2019), Chiwetel Ejiofor

Aos 13 anos, William Kamkwamba, do Malawi, ganhou fama em seu país em 2007, ao construir uma turbina de vento geradora de energia. A região onde William morava foi assolada por uma seca que devastou a plantação de sua família. Estudando sozinho e utilizando materiais improvisados, ele criou um projeto para fornecer água encanada e eletricidade ao seu vilarejo, privilégios aos quais a população do Malawi não tinha acesso.

7 — Mais Uma Chance (2018), Tamara Jenkins

Um casal na casa dos 40 anos tenta engravidar de várias formas. Sem sucesso, eles se submetem a várias fertilizações. Quando os recursos e opções parecem chegar ao fim, o aparecimento de uma sobrinha renova as esperanças do casal, que decide tentar novamente. Além disso, eles precisam cuidar da própria relação, que está abalada em meio a tantos acontecimentos.

6 — Beasts of No Nation (2015), Cary Fukunaga

Agu é uma criança que sofre com as consequências da guerra civil da África do Sul. Depois que seu pai é morto por militares, ele é obrigado a se tornar um soldado, abandonando a família para lutar no conflito. Para se transformar em um combatente, ele é instruído por um comandante, que o ensina as cruéis regras da disputa armada. O longa é baseado no livro homônimo do autor nigeriano Uzodinma Iweala.

5 — Klaus (2019), Sergio Pablos

Pior aluno da academia de carteiros, o mimado Jasper é mandado para Smeerensburg, uma remota ilha localizada acima do Círculo Ártico. Nessa cidade, os habitantes brigam o tempo todo e não demonstram o mínimo interesse pelas cartas. Para bater sua meta de correspondências e voltar para casa logo, Jasper conta com a ajuda da professora Ava e do misterioso carpinteiro Klaus. Juntos, eles tentam alegrar Smeerensburg e apresentar aos moradores a magia do natal.

4 — Dois Papas (2019), Fernando Meirelles

O filme constrói um encontro fictício entre o então cardeal Jorge Bergoglio, hoje Papa Francisco, e o Papa Bento XVI, em 2012. Durante uma das maiores crises recentes da Igreja, o argentino Jorge Bergoglio decide pedir sua aposentadoria por discordar da forma como o Papa tem conduzido a igreja. Com a passagem já comprada para Roma, ele é surpreendido pelo convite do próprio Papa Bento XVI para visitá-lo. No encontro, eles falam sobre suas vidas e os rumos do catolicismo.

3 — Roma (2018), Alfonso Cuarón

O filme foi inspirado na infância de Cuarón e conta a história de Cleo, uma jovem que trabalha como babá e doméstica de uma família de classe média, moradora do bairro Roma, na Cidade do México. Em um ano, acontecimentos inesperados afetam a rotina da família. Enquanto sua patroa, Sofia, sofre com o afastamento do marido, Cleo engravida do namorado, Fermín, que não quer assumir a criança.

2 — O Irlandês (2019), Martin Scorsese

Frank Sheeran, “O Irlandês”, é um veterano de guerra cheio de condecorações. Ele aprendeu a matar servindo na Segunda Guerra Mundial e divide seu tempo entre os trabalhos de caminhoneiro e assassino de aluguel para a máfia. Já velho, Frank reflete sobre sua carreira no mundo do crime e seu envolvimento com os Bufalino, uma família de mafiosos. Ele também relembra seu envolvimento no desaparecimento do líder do sindicato dos caminhoneiros, Jimmy Hoffa, que era seu amigo de longa data.

1 — História de um Casamento (2019), Noah Baumbach

O diretor de teatro Charlie e a atriz Nicole estão passando por muitas dificuldades no relacionamento e decidem se divorciar. Os dois concordam em não envolver advogados, levando o processo de uma maneira amigável, mas Nicole muda de ideia e contrata uma advogada experiente, Nora Fanshaw. Surpreso com a atitude de Nicole, Charlie se esforça para pagar um famoso advogado e lutar pela custódia do filho, o pequeno Henry.

Todos os filmes originais Netflix, classificados do pior ao melhor publicado primeiro em https://www.revistabula.com