Masterlist of all my Steve & Robin fics (platonic ofc)
All posted here: AO3 Lots of hurt/comfort, angst & them being platonic soulmates
a fragment of my mind (oneshot: 6.1k) "Just… just a li'l nap," Robin whispers, voice hoarse, cracked in places he's not used to hearing. "Yeah." Steve flips the palm on her brow to the cooler side, runs the other through her hair. One hand of hers curls into his shirt again, so weakly he feels no difference. "Just a nap." or: not everyone makes it out alive, in the end.
trauma buddies (oneshot: 8.2k) There are moments where she thinks she might be sure enough to say she not only tolerates this version of Steve Harrington (her co-worker – not to be confused with whoever he becomes once stepping out of here; she needs to draw a clear line there and never forget it) – but maybe, big maybe, even likes him. or: Summer of 1985. Robin takes a summer job and, against all odds, ends up befriending Steve Harrington.
what more can you do? (oneshot: 2.5k) "I'm just trying to keep everyone as safe as I can, alright?" "Right," Robin scoffed. Her laugh was brittle, breaking off too soon, like it hurt her to let all of it out. "Fine. Sure. Just say whatever you wanna say, Rob. Go right ahead. I'm–" "You're selfish," she cut in. "There. I said it." Steve blinked. "How– what part of me wanting to keep everyone alive makes me an egoist?" or: Robin and Steve get a chance to talk before they head into the final battle. Set near the end of 5x07.
in the wind with the leaves that are dying (oneshot: 5.3k) "Maybe… if you would hold it still, dingus, I'd actually be able to see what–" "Oh, as if you don't remember–" "Jesus! I don't!" "–the suicide notes you casually keep in your drawer?" Heat flushed straight up her neck, the instant burn enough to clamp down on any hint of nausea. "Why were you– I said the book was on top of–" Steve cut her off, "Christ, Robin, that's so not the point here!" or: After the events of season 4, Robin starts writing letters. Not because she wants to die – she doesn't. They're... just in case. Steve finds them. He doesn't take it well.
comes and goes (oneshot: 5.1k) She wants to grab him by the collar of his annoyingly mature navy polo shirt and stuff him into one of her packed boxes (though he would never fit), and just take him with her. Poke little holes into the cardboard with her keys so he can breathe okay on the long drive to Smith. Robin wants so many things, but saying goodbye isn’t one of them. or: The eighteen months between defeating Vecna and the kids' graduation, as told through Robin missing her best friend.
grab my hand, i’m drowning (oneshot: 4.7k) What did they do with her hands? Did they take them? —the bone saw? At least they didn’t take Steve’s, too. His are holding her face, so they can’t have taken his. "Robbie," Steve pleads, desperate now, digging his thumbs into her cheekbones. Into— ow. Robin recoils. There’s something there— on the right side of her face— "Shit, sorry, I'm sorry—" The burn dulls. "But I really need you to breathe, Robin. Can you? Can you match my breathing? Can you breathe with me?" or: my attempt at fixing a tiny fraction of the series finale (Written for Stobin month day 30: flashback)
you're the only one who knows, you slow it down (multichapter fic: 30.6k) "For what it's worth… I think… I think she wasn't trying to be mean–" "Yeah, no, she never means to," Robin butted in, now unmistakably indignant. "She, uh, found that prom leaflet. In your room. And I think– she just thought maybe you would like to go and–" "I don't." Her tone was resolute, the way her chest curled in on itself wasn't. "I really don't." "Okay," Steve said slowly. "But I mean… we could. As friends." Robin's gaze snapped to him, her eyes taken up by a rare blaze. "I just said I don't want to." or: Robin and Steve go to prom together. But that's not really the point of this story. Set in December 1985.
seal my heart and break my pride (multichapter fic: 23.800 so far) "It’s okay, Meylonia," Steve says calmly, grabbing a bunch of napkins to soak up the mess he’s made. The white cloth immediately stains pink. An Avox in clotted blood red attire rushes to assist Steve; he politely waves him off. "If Robin doesn’t want to be mentored, that’s her choice." If Robin wants to die, that’s her choice. Yes. Damn right it is. Only choice she’s got left. or: a platonic Stobin-centric Hunger Games AU
