hurricane billy - reader refuses to take billyâs compliments due to a history of humiliation but billy only has good intentions (fluffy angst)
just the two of us - reader and billy bake. thatâs literally it. (slightly suggestive, extremely fluffy and a dash of angst)
iâm with you - billy is finally ready to leave hawkins behind and thereâs no way heâs going alone. (kinda short, mostly fluff but general billy angst, swearing)
un-disappointing - reader is anxious their first time staying over at steveâs wonât live up to his expectations. (mentions of insecurities, flufffff)
EDDIE MUNSON
horrible timing - it takes literally being dragged through hell for eddie to finally admit his feelings to reader. (technically fluff but with general stranger things angst. swearing)
sheâs real - dustin refuses to believe eddie âthe freakâ munson has a girlfriend. (fluff, tiny bit of insecure eddie. probably swearing.)
boyish - based on boyish by japanese breakfast. âi want you and you want something more beautiful.â (angst!! fluff but in past tense. swearing.)
ROBIN BUCKLEY
sleeping beauty - reader falls asleep on robins shoulder. (just fluff, a hint of robin being insecure.)
đđŒđ đœđđđđđđ
bite the hand - inspired by the boygenius song. kaz and reader are struggling to maintain their relationship. (kazâs pov, pure angst)
đżđđŒđŸđ đđŒđđđđ
drowning - during tough times youâre there to keep draco afloat. (fluffy angst)
â ïžïž psa â ïžïž: i do not support JK R*wling AT ALL or anything she stands for!!! any transphobic, homophobic, racist, sexist people are NOT WELCOME on my page, this is not for u! my page is an lgbtq+ safe space and i will NOT stand for any discriminative or harmful behavior!
(last autum was just a weird time and i worked too hard on that draco fic to get rid of it.) -
dk if anyoneâs seen those tiktokâs of that person making coffee for builders just to see them use their dainty little tea cups
but i canât stop thinking of that with frank castle.
this big scary buff murderer sipping out of readers tiny little pastel tea cups. how heâs capable of such voilence but has to stand there holding it so delicately
frank leaning up against a kitchen counter, so imposing, grasping this fragile pink china in his large hands
oneshot for being on a train and falling asleep on robinâs shoulder? and she tries her best to stay still so she doesnât have to wake you, and when she finally does because itâs your stop she apologises again and again, promising you can sleep when you get home :))
sleeping beauty | r.b.
robin buckley x gn!reader
summary: see request^
warnings: none? robin is a little bit insecure of her rambling. fluff.
a/n: was intending this to just be a lil drabble but i got a bit carried away. anyway robin would definitely be a bowie fan. loved this concept and canât wait to write more robin. hope u like it!
it has been a really long day.
and it isnât until you settle down onto the uncomfortable train seat that you begin to feel the dull ache in your bones and the heavy weight of your eyelids. luckily, itâs only a short journey back into hawkins and robin still seemed animated and talkative enough to keep you distracted from your tiredness until you were back home in the safety of your bed.
currently sheâs explaining with great enthusiasm why âhunky doryâ is bowieâs best album, the words tumbling from her mouth almost faster than your exhausted mind can keep up with.
âi just donât see how you can start an album with the masterpiece that is âchangesâ and that not be considered the best album!â she is talking just slightly too loud; each word is spoken as though punctuated with an exclamation point. her energy raising her voice to ensure she gets her point across.
ânot only that!â she continues, turning in her seat to point at you dramatically, face alight with a grin. âitâs followed by âoh! you pretty things.â thatâs literally one of my favourite songs ever. i mean⊠come on!â
something warm and giddy bubbles up inside you at how endearing her passion is and you canât help the smile that instantly overtakes your features whenever she gets like this. somehow she manages to have an encyclopaedic knowledge of everything she likes and can talk fervently about each one for hours. you always love to indulge her, instead of shutting her down like most people seem to, because her excitement is always impossibly contagious.
âbut âsuffragette city,â rob.â is all you respond, trying and failing to stifle a yawn, as you wiggle down in your seat to get more comfortable.
itâs not a lot of feedback but itâs all robin needs to be spurred into a rant, instantly arguing that âthe rise and fall of ziggy stardustâ is too obvious. you roll your eyes, still smiling at her antics, and let your head fall back against the seat. you focus on the soft rasp in her voice, feeling comforted by the familiarity and just manage to make out a few more odd david bowie references before the sound is all blurring into one and your eyes fall shut. the gentle movement of the train guiding you into a deep sleep.
robinâs rambling is suddenly cut short when she feels a soft weight fall onto her shoulder. she freezes, hands still raised and mid sentence, her eyes going wide. stiff as a board, she spares a glance down at you, unsure whether sheâd be relieved or terrified to see you still be awake. she letâs out the breath she was holding in when she sees your eyes closed, head comfortably resting against her shoulder. heat rises in her cheeks.
lowering her hands slowly, she takes in your appearance. the relaxed peacefulness of your sleeping features; lashes resting against your cheek and mouth slightly ajar. butterflies invading her stomach as she gazes just a little too long at your lips. she observes the slow rise and fall of your chest and shoulders, the pieces of hair that have fallen into your face. settling back into the seat, careful not to wake you, she wonders if youâll dream and what youâll dream of.
suddenly, robin cringes, realising her boring rambling may have been what knocked you out. she knew had a tendency to chatter people into boredom or annoyance; never being able to slow her brain down enough to read peoples reactions, and hated the thought that she had done that to you. or maybe you didnât even want to go to sleep, maybe youâll be annoyed that she didnât wake you, maybe she should wake you.
her thoughts begin to spiral, suddenly second-guessing every decision sheâs ever made and internally panicking. however, all her worry melts away when she hears a soft sigh leave your lips and looks down to see you pushing yourself into her side further, slotting your shoulders together. she canât fight the smile that befalls her. how could she possibly wake you when she has you, so soft and beautiful, against her. just for a while sheâll pretend this is the gentle domesticity of a relationship and selfishly revel in your closeness until the end of the journey pulls you apart.
robin spends the next 20 minutes back into hawkins with her entire body stiff, trying desperately to stay as still as humanly possible so as not to wake you. each shift in the ride and bump on the tracks has her glancing down in panic that the train dares to disturb your slumber. youâre âsleeping beautyâ she thinks for a brief, sweet moment before shaking the thought away. her knitted fingers twist in her lap as she fights her usual urge to fidget and fuss after being still for too long. each minute, she fends off more and more tender thoughts about you, berating herself for being so smitten for someone seemingly uninterested.
thereâs a mixture of relief and disappointment that washes over her as the conductor announces the next stop: hawkins. she hesitates momentarily, considering the best way to wake you before shifting awkwardly in her seat to face you better. cautiously, raising a hand, she softly jostles your shoulder, muttering your name in a soft whisper. you wriggle but donât quite wake. instead, her hand moves to your face, tenderly gripping your cheek as she speaks your name more clearly.
you gasp a sharp intake of breath and your eyes blink open. youâre slightly disoriented as you awaken, the material of the train seat and stiffness of your spine feeling unfamiliar. but, what surprises you most, is the feeling of a cool hand resting against your cheek. tilting your head upwards, you lock eyes with robinâs concerned ocean blue gaze. heat floods your features at the closeness of your faces, eyes automatically dancing down to glance at her lips before catching yourself and locking eyes with her once more. the air is thick between your both for several long, tense seconds before robin swallows harshly and pulls herself away.
still slightly disoriented, you quickly shuffle to be sitting up in your chair again, waiting for your heart to stop hammering in your chest. for a moment you wonder if youâre still sleeping and simply dreamed that heated moment between you both until robin begins to speak and confirms it to be reality.
âweâre getting off in a minute.â she says, not quite meeting your eyes. âiâm really sorry for waking you.â
you rub your tired eyes. âitâs fine, sorry for falling asleep on you.â
both your words are timid, and sit awkwardly in the aftermath of your tense interaction.
âyou must have been tired. sorry if i bored you, i can do that. i also feel really bad for having to wake you up. iâm really sorry. super sorry.â robin begins to ramble as usual and a little bit or normality is returned to the situation.
you know how to respond to this, this is familiar. not whatever happened before.
âhonestly robin, itâs fine.â you smile at her with reassurance. âplease stop apologising.â
your tone is exasperated and a laugh is shared between you as she opens her mouth to apologise once more and you have to rush to silence her. it feels like you can make eye contact comfortably again, but something has still changed in the way sheâs looking at you.
âokay, okay.â she holds her hands up in surrender. âhow was your sleep?â
you blush thinking about just how well you slept and wonder if you should be chalking it down to robins presence. the comforting warmth of her body next to yours and familiar fresh scent of her clothes made thirty minutes feel like a deep, full nights rest.
âreally good actually,â you reply slightly sheepishly.
the train begins to slow to a stop and you both stand to begin collecting your things. robin turns her back to you to slide on her jacket and a burst of confidence spurs through you.
âi should fall asleep on you more oftenâ
your tone is jokey but she senses intention behind it and freezes whilst pulling her sleeve on. you hold your breath, ready to gage her reaction. a beat of silence passes before an awkward forced laugh fall from her lips. she turns to face you again, finally finished putting in her jacket. the pink tinge to her cheeks and the way her head is bashfully downturned makes your grin widen. please flirt back, the voice in your head begs.
âoh yeah?â she asks, her voice lilting in a teasing way and a slight shiver dancing in your spine. âyeah. you should.â
itâs spoken like a promise, which you both intend to uphold.
iâll never love a boy the way i love the ocean | robin buckley x gn!reader
description: youâre in love with your bestfriend and her ocean blue eyes
warnings: swearing, like a little angsty, implied era-typical homophobia (barely)
a/n: iâm literally in love with the song to love a boy by maya hawke so this only seemed appropriate :)
wonât let me link it but just youtube it if ur interested
Robin has blue eyes, the colour of the ocean.
Perhaps itâs not something youâre supposed to notice about your best friend. Itâs the sort of observations meant for lovers, for poetry and music.
But Robin's eyes are the colour of the ocean, the kind poets write of getting lost in, and sometimes, it feels like youâbe been drowning in them for years.
Today the setting sun hits them in a way that makes them lighter, and the first you notice is whilst youâre walking together from the movie theatre, whilst sheâs rambling on about the film you watched together.
âI mean, next time Iâm choosing the film, (y/n).â Robin says, âYouâre my best friend but god, you need a movie education.â
You manage an uncommitted hum, busy fighting off the butterflies that are making you feel queasy, trying to ignore the way her hand grazes your own by your side as you walk, each time making you feel almost dizzy.
Ocean eyes, freckles, warm handsâŠ
You canât pinpoint the moment those features meant so much to you, when you began to catalogue them, to adore them. Sometimes, you canât imagine a time where they didnât mesmerise you.
âI mean, it was cheesy in the worst way.â
Robinâs hands lift from her sides with an dramatising hand action that makes a small smile climb to your cheeks, eyes dropping sheepishly to the ground.
âI know.â
Robin laughs and your brows pull into a sort of pained expression, smile faltering and chest tightening.
Eyes, freckles, hands, laughter.
Itâs never been a startling realisation, one that brings with it the relief of understanding. You would prefer that, one big, eye opening moment that you could find somewhere to put afterwards, somewhere to store in the far corner of your brain and move on from.
But the realisation that you have fallen in love with your best friend is one that gnaws away at you, the kind that only solidifies with time and becomes entirely too much to store anywhere but everywhere, in every glance and every smile.
And it all started with those ocean eyes.
On days like today, itâs entirely too much, and you canât help but wonder if youâll ever love a boy as much as you love those eyes.
And the thought makes you queasy.
âOh, hey,â Robin begins, frown audible in her gentle, raspy voice, âIâm just joking, (y/n/n). You can choose the next film, I donât mind- you know Iâm just not one for rom-coms-â
You laugh, horrified when it leaves your lips just a little broken. Robin stills by your side, brows creasing with concern, one hand reaching out to pull you to a stop with her.
âHey, whatâs wrong?â
When you look up, her eyes are wide, and you can see specs of green in her irises, lips parting wordlessly. Her head tilts a little, curiously, and you realise that youâve been well and truly caught.
âDo you ever think of who youâll fall in love with?â
Robin brows lift in surprise, smirk finding her lips, readied with a joke when she spots the solemn expression still etched on your face.
âI-â She says, smile dropping, âI guess⊠Why? Youâre kind of worrying me here, (y/n).â
âI think I love someone,â You admit, voice quiet despite the courage itâs taken to produce it at all suddenly. âI know that I love them, actually.â
Something twitches on Robin's face, something oddly like disappointment, and her hand pulls back from your own slowly, inviting the cold to prick your skin.
âOh.â She smiles half heartedly. âAnd who is the lucky guy?â
You gives her a long contemplative look, anxiety stirring in your chest. Biting your lip, you inhale shakily through your nose.
âWhat- what if itâs not a guy, Robin?â
In the new silence, you can hear Robinâs breath catch with realisation. Her blue eyes meet yours, wide and knowing, and for the first time, your scared to look into them, scared of what youâll find.
âYouâre in love with⊠a girl?â Robin clarifies tentatively.
You nod, eyes trained at the scuff marks on your shoes. The silence that settles between you both is so intense it makes you feel dizzy.
âWell, is she a nice girl?â Robin asks, sounding slightly strained, âI can only assume she likes the same crappy movies as you, but Iâm sure sheâs got redeemable qualities too.â
You laugh, a startled sound as you look up in surprise of her acceptance. She smiles at you, a little forced, but itâs enough to still the panic that was slowly bubbling in your chest.
âShe hates my taste in movies.â You admit.
âA woman of taste.â
You know Robin well, so well acquainted with her face that you can see the hurt in the crease between her brows, the subtle disappointment.
You might go as far as to say jealousy.
This realisation is the big, eye opening moment. It brings a jolt of hope right into your chest that seeps outwards like an electric current, until the buzz reaches your finger tips.
âShe has the most beautiful eyes Iâve ever seen.â
Itâs escaped from you lips before you can even consider the consequences, and the crease between Robinâs brows deepens, forced smile faltering just a little.
âIâm happy for you.â
The lie only spurs you on, and you reach out for her hands, smiling softly at the familiar warm touch. You find yourself fidgeting with a ring on her index finger.
â(y/n)?â
She glances down at your joined hands, and when look up, sheâs already staring at you with parted lips, and thereâs a red colour climbing her neck that confirms your newest suspicions.
âDid you know your eyes are the same colour as the ocean?â You ask, smiling nervously. âBlue but with this little hint of green⊠theyâre gorgeous, Robin.â
Robins hands tense in your own, and that crease in her brows softens, breath trembling as it leave her lips. You hold her eyes with more confidence than you ever thought possible.
âItâs me.â
âItâs you.â
Robin stands frozen, and for a moment, your new confidence dwindles, and you worry youâve been swept away in the hope of it all, and the colour of her eyes.
Then, sheâs pulling her hands from yours and before you can panic, plan your excuses, their cupping your cheeks, the pads of her thumbs grazing your cheeks softly.
âItâs me.â She repeats, smiling, âHoly shit, itâs me.â
Her eloquence causes almost makes you laugh, but youâre struggling to tell whether itâs in excitement or humiliating humour. Her grin widens, and she lets out a disbelieving laugh.
âHoly shit.â She repeats.
âIâm going to have to ask you to stop swearing at my confession, thanks.â
âSorry,â She beams, âBut I just-â
âHoly shit,â You say, âI know.â
She shakes her head, gently running her thumbs across your cheek bone. She turns only to glance around then empty street before returning, tongue darting across her lips nervously.
Suddenly you feel like putty in her hands.
âAre you going to kiss me?â You realise, smile twitching at your lips.
âIf you let me.â
Youâre nodding as you tug her closer, hand wrapped around the fabric of her shirt. She draws your face closer with her hands and when you kiss, everything falls into place.
Her lips are just slightly chapped, but they move gently, perfectly, with your own. In all your wildest daydreams, youâd never allow yourself to imagine this, and you chase her lips as she pulls back , small sound of complaint escaping you in a sharp sigh.
âOh, donât worry.â She grins, âI intend to kiss you for hours sometimeâ
âOh?â
âIt gives me something to do during your crappy film choices-â
You step back with a roll of your eyes, but she catches you with an arm around her waist, grinning gleefully.
âI love you too.â She says softly.
And you soften against her, balancing yourself on her shoulder, and she gives you a look of utter enchantment. You wonder how youâve never noticed it before, all that love in those ocean eyes.
âHoly shit.â You exhale, smiling.
She rolls her eyes, unravelling herself from your waist as you laugh. When she grabs your hand, she guides it into her pocket, and through a grin, you almost point out what a terrible rom-com cliche sheâs entertaining.
âLetâs go.â
âWhere?â
âTo the video store, so we can rent as many shitty rom-coms as Steve will let us, and I can kiss you, for hours.â
