Certified Lover Girl

Steve Harrington

↳ Series - Love Isn't Easy

Peter Parker

↳ nothing yet

Spencer Reid

↳ nothing yet

Dick Grayson

↳ nothing yet

Tim Drake

↳ Oneshot - Flirting on the Job

Jason Todd

↳ nothing yet

Bruce Wayne

↳ nothing yet

Throw your ideas at me and i'll get started!

Thank you for reading this far!! I can't wait to begin my writing journey.

November 7, 1983

The rising sun shines through the window as a sliver of light slips between the curtains and hits my face, stirring me awake. I reluctantly sit up and look around the room, trying to find the will to get out of bed. 

Just outside the door, I can hear the sound of the TV, no doubt the doing of Hawkins Chief of Police getting drunk and falling asleep on the couch again. I can barely make out what the lady is saying, something about a power outage, I think. 

As my eyes scan the room, I freeze when I see a movement in my peripheral vision. Snapping my head over to the window, I see a small shadow behind the curtains. I sit there for a second, confused, before slowly getting up and quietly walking over to the window. Reaching for the curtain, I slowly pull it back, and I’m met with the sight of an animal. A small blackbird sits perched on the open windowsill. It chirps at me three times before flying away at the sound of a dog barking nearby. I watch the bird fly into the dense woods before looking at the digital alarm clock on the nightstand, letting my head fall back and groan. 

 I’m a woman of routine. It takes five minutes to get dressed, five minutes in the bathroom, and fifteen minutes to make breakfast for Dad and me and eat it, leaving me with an extra five minutes to annoy him with before I leave. It has been this way every day for the last five years. Today is no different.

I drone out the noise of the eggs sizzling on the pan I’m slaving away over, instead choosing to think about my upcoming chemistry test I haven’t studied for yet. Lost in the little world I created in my head, staring out the window in front of me, I don’t notice the heavy footsteps drawing near. 

“Mornin’, sweetheart.” Jim Hopper sits at the table fastening the final buttons on his shirt.

I jolt out of my thoughts and look over my shoulder. “Mornin’, Dad. How’d you sleep?” I ask, looking down at the eggs. They’re burnt. Quickly moving them from the pan to the plate, I decide without hesitation to give Dad the non-burnt ones. 

“Oh, you know, fine,” he mumbles lazily, poking at his breakfast. “Did we run out of bacon?”

I don’t wait to finish the food in my mouth before I answer, “Yeah, but I can pick some up after school if you’d like.”

“No, sweetheart, it’s fine. I got it,” he said, finally taking a bite of his breakfast.

I stare at him for a couple of seconds before deciding that making an argument about this wouldn’t be worth it. “Okay.”

It’s completely silent the rest of breakfast. The only thing heard is the awkward noise of our forks scraping against the ceramic plates as I drift off into my dreamland for the second time this morning.

My dad is not okay; I’ve known that for a while. Ever since everything that happened in 78, little eleven-year-old me has had to step up and take over the cooking and the chores while Dad stayed late at work to distract himself from his two losses. Unfortunately for me, I wasn’t his top priority at the time, or now, but I’ve learned to live past it. He has bigger things going on, I guess. He’s still my dad though, and I try my best to bring a little light into his dark world whenever I can. 

I swiftly lift my head, an amazing idea coming to mind. Jumping up from my seat, I run to the vinyl records in the box next to the TV, skimming through them until I find the one I’m looking for. 

“What are you up to?” Dad asks, clearly suspicious of my sudden burst of energy. I don’t respond.

Pulling out one of the many records we have from my favorite band, I take the cover off and walk over to the record player. Squinting at the lines to find the song I'm looking for, I put the needle in place. The ending chords of the song before it fizzles out, and it’s silent for a couple of seconds before If It Wasn’t For The Nights by ABBA fills the room. 

I can feel my dad staring at me, but I don’t care; smiling and bopping my head, I let the music take over my body. I walk over to the table, take the empty plates, and put them in the sink before walking to my dad, grabbing his hands, and pulling him to the living room without protest.

Most of the time, putting a smile on Jim Hopper’s face is difficult. Right now, seeing his daughter singing and dancing with no care in the world is clearly not one of those times.

I can see his shoulders loosen as he starts to dance with me, grabbing my hands and spinning me around as I sing.

“Ohhh baby, I miss you so, I know I'm never gonna make it. Oh, I'm so restless, I don't care what I say. And I lose my temper ten times a day. Still it's even worse when the night's on its way.” Smiling and laughing when he spins me again, I speak over the music, “C’mon, Dad, sing with me!”

He lets out a faint laugh as the chorus starts, and he softly starts to sing with me. I notably sing louder than him.

“Somehow I'd be doing alright if it wasn't for the nights. If it wasn't for the nights I think that I could make it. I'd have courage left to fight if it wasn't for the nights. If it wasn't for the nights I think that I could take it.” 

Mornings like this are moments I never forget. Moments when my dad isn’t stuck in his head or getting home late and drunk, then drinking more. Moments like this are what make me feel normal. Not someone who had to grow up too fast or come home every night to an empty house. 

As the song ends, I put the record away and grab my school bag and car keys; there’s a slight bounce in my step from the leftover energy the song gave me. I walk over to my dad and hug him. He hugs me back, and I’m met with the comforting smell of beer and cigarettes. “Have a good day at work,” I say before kissing his cheek and pulling away.

“Thanks, kiddo. Have a good day at school.” He watches me open the door before saying, “Love you.”

I turn back and smile. “Love you too, Dad.” I turn, close the door, walk to my car, and leave for school.

The drive to school was silent due to my broken radio. It worked sometimes, but only when it wanted to, which was usually never.

Pulling into the school and parking, I grabbed my bag from the passenger seat and stepped out of the car, making sure to lock it before heading off into the sea of teenagers. Once I made it inside, I immediately spotted my two friends and beelined towards them.

When I make it to them, I can hear Nancy speak to Barbara in a quiet voice, “I told you, it’s not like that.” 

“What’s it not like?” I ask, less curious about what they’re talking about and more to make my presence known. Nancy lets out a startled noise at my sudden appearance. “Oh come on Nancy, I wasn’t even trying to be quiet this time. What are you guys talking about?” I can make an educated guess that they're probably talking about-

“Steve Harrington,” Barb turns and says to me before quickly being interrupted by the shushing of Nancy. I roll my eyes at the mention of his name. Lately, every conversation we have revolves around him. If I couldn’t stand him before, I definitely couldn’t stand him now.

Nancy continues to speak, “Okay, I mean, yes, he likes me, but not like that.” I raise my eyebrow, unconvinced that the guy who has been pinning for her since the start of the school year doesn’t like her like that, bullshit. Opening her locker, she says, “We just… made out a couple times.” 

I let out a loud laugh at her insane statement as Barb impersonates her and leans on the lockers, “We just… made out a couple times.” 

“Do you not hear yourself? He so likes you.” I say with a smile, adjusting the bag on my shoulder.

Barb looks at me and nods, “Yeah, Nance, seriously. You’re gonna be so cool now, it's ridiculous” 

“No, I’m not.” She quickly answers back before Barb continues her rant.

“You better still hang out with us, that’s all I’m saying.” Nancy gives her a questioning look, prompting her to continue. “If you become friends with Tommy H. or Carol-”

“Oh, that’s gross,” Nancy interrupts, clearly disgusted at the thought, and honestly, I am too.

“Okay, I’m telling you it was a one-time…” Barb and I share a look before looking back at Nancy. “Two-time thing,” she says with a smile before stopping at the sight of a note sitting in her locker. As she opens it up, Barb and I look over her shoulder and read it too.

Meet Me. Bathroom - Steve

Barb and I speak at the same time, “You were saying?” We look at each other and laugh, then look back at Nancy, who is smiling and rereading the note before closing her locker.

I start to speak while walking backwards a little, “You’re not gonna be late, right?” I ask with a knowing smile.

“Oh, ha ha, very funny,” she rolls her eyes before turning and walking away.

Nancy and I were friends, obviously. But she was more of Barbara’s friend than mine. Well, more like best friend. Nancy and Barb have been best friends since sixth grade. We don’t really hang out unless Barb is there; I don’t even have her number memorized. 

Barb is my best friend, and she has been since we had to sit next to each other in fourth grade. Back when her best friend was Robin Buckley. I’ve never been Barbara’s best friend, and honestly that doesn’t bother me. As long as she knows that I care about her, it doesn’t matter to me.

I turn to Barb, who is walking beside me. We just made it to her and Nancy’s class. “Okay, I’ll see you at lunch.”

“Yeah. Have fun in English,” she says, smiling, walking into the classroom, not waiting for a response.

I walk into my class a few rooms down and sit in my usual spot, taking out my notebook and pencil just as the bell rings.

The last bell of the day rings through the school; the loud noise of chairs scraping the floor and people talking is immediate. Grabbing my notebook, I stand up and head to my locker. When I get there, Barb is there waiting for me.

“Hey. How was History?” She asks me, already knowing my answer.

I stare at her for a couple of seconds, no readable expression on my face. “I feel like I just lost a war with knowledge. I walked out of there knowing less than I did walking in.”

She laughs before moving out of the way to give me access to my locker. I open it up and grab my things before turning to her. “Have you studied for the chemistry test?”

“A little. I’m gonna study more tonight. Do you want to come over to my house and we can go over the flashcards I made?”

“Yeah, sure. I also made a couple flashcards so I can bring those as well.” Grabbing the last of my things, I closed my locker. “What time should I come over?”

“Maybe 5:30?” She suggests as we make our way outside.

“Yeah, that works for me. Is Nancy gonna be there too?”

“No, I think she said she was gonna “study” with Steve Harrington.” There’s a small roll in her eyes when she says it. Not dramatic but enough for me to notice.

I, on the other hand, roll my eyes hard and groan obnoxiously, “I really don’t know what she sees in him; he's such a douchebag.”

“Right?? She says he’s nice, but he’s probably only nice to her”

“Yeah, because he wants to get in her pants.” I stop walking when we make it to her car and turn to face her.

She pauses for a second before asking, “You really think that’s all he wants?”

I respond seriously without hesitation. “I know that’s all he wants.” I turn my head to the side, looking out at the crowd of students trying to leave the school, spotting the man in question sitting on the hood of his car while his goons, Tommy H. and Carol, terrorize a group of freshmen. “He’s a dick. He always has been…” I look back at Barb to see her observing the same scene I was, “and he always will be.” I turn and pull my keys out of the bag. “Anyway, I’ll see you at 5:30, yeah?”

“Um… yeah, yeah, 5:30.” She looks back at Steve, then gets in her car.

I raise an eyebrow at her odd response but decide to leave it. We’ll more than likely talk about it again after studying. When I get to my car, I throw my bag in the passenger seat and take off back home.

Pulling into the driveway, I turn off the car, grab my bag, and hop out.

Something’s weird.

My steps slow to a stop as I turn towards the woods, eyebrows furrowed, watching carefully for anything unfamiliar, listening to the sounds of anything that shouldn’t be there. 

Suddenly, the alarm screams from a blue jay ring out through the forest. 

“Shit,” I whisper, nearly jumping out of my skin. I immediately take that as my sign to get inside. 

I close the door and double-check the lock. I went to my room and closed the window, locking it as well. I didn’t see anything out there, but it's better safe than dead.

Looking at the time, I have about an hour before I need to get to Barb’s house. I walk to the living room, sit down, and turn on the TV. 

It’s static. That’s strange; it never really has problems. I get up and walk towards it, starting to mess with the antennas to try and get a signal.

BANG

I jump, letting out a small scream, nearly getting whiplash from turning so fast towards the sound. 

There’s a small mark on the window behind the couch that I’m pretty sure wasn’t there before. I slowly inch my way closer, the TV’s static fading into the background. Stepping on the couch and looking over through the window, I’m not really sure what I expected, but when I saw the crow lying on the ground, I let out a sigh of relief. I hadn’t realized how fast my heartbeat had gotten.

KAZZT

“Twelve-year-old William Byers has been announced missing.” I turned toward the TV so fast I think I did get whiplash this time. My heart was racing again as I plopped down on the couch, trying to get myself to breathe normally. “He was last seen riding his bike home from a friend’s house late last night. There will be a search party taking place tonight at 6:00” 

The lady on the news drones on about this kid for a couple more seconds before moving on to the next piece of news. The picture of the boy stays on the corner of the screen. 

“William Byers. That’s… that’s Jonathan’s little brother, right?” I mutter to myself, thinking out loud. I’m not close with Jonathan. At all. But the little interactions I’ve had with him have all been pleasant. 

“This is depressing,” I mutter before grabbing the remote and changing the channel to ABC. I smile seeing the familiar colors and characters of Scooby-Doo Where Are You?. This episode is a rerun, but that doesn’t stop me from enjoying it; forgetting all my responsibilities and whatever the hell happened outside earlier.

When the episode finishes, I decide it's time to leave. Switching off the TV, I go to my room, get my flashcards, and put them in my bag. Grabbing my keys, I take one last look at the TV before walking outside and locking the door behind me.

I look to the side, just below the window, and the crow is gone. Probably woke up and flew away, but I don’t dwell on it too much.

Getting in my car, I turn it on and drive away. Leaving whatever the fuck is going on around my house far behind me.

Pulling up to Barb’s, I park and knock on the door at 5:30 on the dot. I’m only standing there for a few seconds before the door opens and I’m met with Mrs. Holland.

“Y/n, it's so good to see you. How are you? Come in, come in.” She’s very enthusiastic. To be fair, it has been a bit since I last came over.

“Hello, Mrs. Holland. I’m doing pretty good. How are you?”

“Oh, I'm great. Barbara is upstairs in her room. You’re studying chemistry, right?”

“Yeah, Kaminsky’s tests are really difficult. It sucks that Barb and I aren’t in the same period, but at least we have the same teacher. I’d definitely fail if it wasn’t for her.”

“It’s nice that you two can help each other out.” She smiles at me one last time before walking away. “Alright, sweetie, I’ll be in the kitchen making dinner if you need me.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Holland.” Waving at Mr. Holland as I walk past the living room. I finally make my way upstairs, knocking on Barb’s door. 

“Come in.”

I open the door. “Hey, Barb,” I let my bag drop to the floor and move to lie face down on her bed. “Have you started studying yet?”

“Yeah, a little.” She lets out a small laugh when she turns to look at me.

“Okay… wait, I brought my cards,” I say, moving towards my bag and grabbing my flashcards before sitting back on the bed facing Barb, reading the first card out loud. “Okay. In 1976, during the Battle of Long Island… wait, what?” I quickly flip through my cards, realization slowly dawning on me. I fall backwards on the bed with my hands covering my face dramatically. “Noooooo I brought the wrong cards!”

Barbara laughs at my theatrical performance. “It’s okay, we can just use mine.” She turns back to her desk, grabbing her cards, mumbling something about how extra I am.

“Ugh, I guess.” I sit up, getting ready for her to quiz me.

We study for around three hours before I had to call it. The topic of conversation quickly moved from being boring and giving me a headache to being not boring but equally contributing to the growing ache at the front of my head.

“Do you think Nance is with Steve right now?” Barb asks me, putting away her notebook.

I look over at the clock in her room, 8:42. “Absolutely.” 

She hesitates before asking me her next question. “Do you think they’re…”

I raise my eyebrow, thinking about it. “No, I don’t think so. I doubt Nancy would do anything at home while her parents are there. But it definitely wouldn’t surprise me if he tried. He’s a dick.”

Barb raises an eyebrow at me, a small smile on her face. “I feel like you don’t like Steve Harrington a lot more than everyone else doesn’t like Steve Harrington.”

I look at her as if that’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Yeah. He has a terrible personality. I seriously don’t know what people see in him. I mean honestly, he’s not even that attractive. The only reason he has friends is because his parents are rich. And don't even get me started on Tommy H. and Carol.”

Barb laughs at my distress. “Well, maybe Steve actually is as nice as Nance says he is.”

I roll my eyes. “I fuckin’ doubt it. She’s too busy making goo-goo-eyes at him to notice everything that’s wrong with him. I mean, at this point, just put his picture in your locker. I’m gonna barf if I ever see them being lovey-dovey.”

She lets out a small laugh, her eyes drifting off towards something on her desk. “Yeah… you don’t think she’ll stop hanging out with us, right? I know she said she wouldn’t but… I don't know. I'm just worried, I guess.”

I follow her gaze, my eyes landing on a photo I took of the two of them on Halloween last year. Their smiles are so genuine. “Barb, you guys have been best friends for years. I don’t think she’ll ever choose some boy over you.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” She turns her head to me, a grateful smile on her face. “Thanks, y/n.”

“Of course. Honestly, I think you’re worrying for nothing.” Glancing at the time, I decide I’ve overstayed my welcome. Picking up my bag, I turn toward her. “Anyways, I think I should head home now.”

She gets up and follows me, making our way downstairs. “Okay, I’ll see you tomorrow. Love you, get home safe.”

“Love you too, see you tomorrow.”

Her parents already went to bed, so I leave, and she locks the door behind me.

Grabbing my keys and getting in my car, I pull away from the curb and finally head home.

a/n: Thank you for reading the first chapter! I plan to update at least once every week if my schedule allows it. If there are any typos or mistakes please don't be afraid to point them out!

Taglist status: Open

Season One - Crazy World

Chapter One: The Vanishing of Will Byers

Chapter Two: The Weirdo on Maple Street

Chapter Three: Holly, Jolly

Chapter Four: The Body

Chapter Five: The Flea and the Acrobat

Chapter Six: The Monster

Chapter Seven: The Bathtub

Chapter Eight: The Upsidedown

The cave is alive with the smell of coffee and the sounds of fingers moving fast across the keyboard. While everyone else is out fighting crime, Tim’s in the cave researching the latest crime lord Batman has decided needs to be stopped next. 

The comms are static. He hasn’t heard anything for a while until a familiar voice fills his ears. A voice that makes him smile without thinking and still fills his stomach with butterflies. 

“Coming in Red Robin this is Spark speaking” the cheerful voice of his girlfriend comes through the comms. 

When Tim replies you could hear the smile in his voice “Hey, is everything okay? How’s patrol?”

“Everything’s okay, patrol’s great as usual. I just wanted to hear your voice.” You reply. Stopping on a random rooftop and staring out onto the gloomy city. “Have I ever told you how much I love you?”

Letting out a small laugh Tim leans back in his chair and stares at the big computer screen, “All the time darling. Have I ev-”

The rough voice of Jason cuts through, “Stop flirting over the comms we can all hear you.”

You reply with a frown, “Red Hood you’re just jealous that you’re not in a loving relationship like us” 

“Yeah com’on Hood I think it's cute” Dick’s voice cuts in obviously struggling to hold in his laugh at Jason’s disgust.

“That’s enough the comms are supposed to be used for crucial messages only” the deep voice of Batman is heard in everyone’s ears “This mission is important, we need to stay focused."

You reply with an almost timid tone, “I don’t know I feel like what I said was very crucial”

“It was not.” Bruce replied sharply, effectively ending the conversation.

After a long 10 seconds Jason speaks mockingly, “Ha ha you got in trouble”

Frowning, you turn away from the city view and start to move from building to building, “Whatever im going back to the cave”

It took 5 minutes to make it back to where you were at the beginning of the night. As you walked into the cave you could hear Tim typing away. He hasn’t noticed you yet and you decide that was a good thing. Slowly sneaking up behind him you try to be as quiet as possible, it's a miracle he hasn’t felt your presence yet. You make it to the back of his chair and grab it as you jump out and scare him.

“BOO!”

He turns to you startled, holding his chest, his heart racing, “Oh my god, when did you get here?”

“Like 2 minutes ago” You say laughing as you walk over to the desk and claim it as your seat. “How has the research been; who are you researching again?”

Tim rolls over to you in his chair and positions himself directly in front of you slightly in between your legs, grabbing and playing with your hands while he talks to you, “His name is Victor Malcovich. He’s been hiring homeless people that can’t get into shelters to sell a new drug he calls Tix. He’s one of the members of-”

At this point you stop actually listening to what he’s saying, you don’t really care about who Vinnie Mazzel Tov is, you just wanted to hear your boyfriend talk. Too entranced by the sound of his voice and how much he sounds like a nerd your eyes start to wander around his face. The glasses he’s wearing are starting to slide down his nose and his hair looks like his fingers had run through it one too many times. He looks tired, like he hasn’t slept for days and in this state, Tim Drake could not be more attractive to you. 

“-his main base of operations is located in the East End of Gotham and he… are you even listening to me?”

You quickly focus your gaze back to his eyes and sit up a little straighter, letting out a very (un)convincing “What? Yeah, of course I am, why wouldn’t I be.”

Tim raises an eyebrow at you clearly unconvinced, “oh yeah? What did I just say then?”

“That Vincent-”

“Victor.”

“Right, that Victor is… a bad guy.”

Tim looks at you unimpressed, “I guess that’s true but not what I said at all.”

Your smile shows a bit of embarrassment from being caught red handed ogling your boyfriend but you are unashamed. “Well can you blame me? You’re just so cute when you rant to me about everything you’ve learned.”

This statement seems to cause a red hue to form on Tim’s cheeks and you notice so you double down.

“I just love when you tell me tons of information as if I have any clue what you’re saying, and the way you fix your glasses when they fall down your nose, and the way-”

“Okay that’s enough.” Tim says smiling and looking away to try and hide his deepening blush (it’s not working).

Over the comms the voice of Batman interrupts your playful moment. “Red Robin. Have you gathered more intel on Victor Malcovich.” It was less of a question and more of a demand for information.

Tim slides away from you and focuses his attention back to the computer, “Yeah I did. I'll send you the file right now”

As he’s typing away at the computer you start to look around his work area. There’s 4 empty cups of coffee scattered across the desk, random pieces of paper have fallen to the floor, and a plate that holds a half eaten slice of pizza.

Looking back at Tim you wait for him to finish looking through the files. “When was the last time you slept?”

Tim looks over at you, his face clearly expressing thinking, “uhh last night…”

You turn to look at the digitized clock on the computer, “hmm, well considering it’s 4:30 in the morning, no I don't think you did.” Hopping off the desk you walk over to him, “how about we go to my place and you take a nap that lasts at least 8 hours.”

Tim leans back in his chair, “8 hours is not a nap”

You move to put your hands on his forearms and slide them down to his hands, grabbing them and pulling him up. “Yeah well clearly you need a lot more than that so I’d consider it a nap”

Without protest, Tim lets you pull him up as you drag him towards the door. Towards the crime ridden city that never seems to sleep. Towards the promise of safety and love in a cosy one bedroom apartment.