boxer!robinbuckley x manager!reader
Summary: After deciding to stop working with Robin, something bad happens—something that will affect both of you. Forced to continue the partnership, at least for a while, you and Robin end up growing closer than you should. Will Robin ever deserve your forgiveness?
A/N: angst, fluff, mentions of blood and injuries, medication use (strictly for medical purposes), body image issues, a Heated Rivalry-inspired scene recreated through my own imagination that I hope works for you all (the club one, on that dramatic bridge during All the Things She Said, yeah), wlw, manager x boxer, etc. etc. The ending feels fitting for the two of them, since their relationship was flawed from the very beginning. Still! There may be some little drabbles in the future about how their relationship evolves. :)
“The insertion is done,” the doctor told you, giving you a gentle smile. “You should get the next one after you return to New York, okay?”
“Mhm,” you said, pulling your shirt back down over your abdomen. “I wouldn’t be able to forget even if I wanted to.”
You walked out of the doctor’s office with your head spinning, crowded with all kinds of thoughts. It had been two days since you last spoke to Robin, since you last saw her. Her next match was tonight, and you were absolutely not ready to face her again. Over the past two days, she had been leaving food outside your hotel room door. This time, she hadn’t just sent breakfast, but lunch and dinner too. On the paper bags and plastic containers, you found all sorts of messages she had left for you. Let’s talk. I’m sorry. Give me one more chance, just one. From the way she wrote those messages, anyone would think you two were together and had gotten into a fight, not that you were her manager and had told her you were resigning while she vehemently refused to come to terms with it.
Oh, and she called you too, of course. She called to ask the dumbest things, because she knew you’d answer. Damn it, you would always answer, and she took full advantage of that. At least while you still worked for her, answering her pointless calls and texts technically fell under your job description.
Today was the semifinals. Throughout her career with you by her side, Robin had lost very few matches — maybe around 15-20 out of the hundreds of fights over the past four years. You were convinced Robin would make it to the finals. In fact, you were convinced she would win the championship.
When you reached your hotel room, you were surprised not to find anything outside the door. Maybe Robin had finally gotten tired of trying her luck over and over again and had finally accepted that she had completely screwed things up with you. Actually, you were wrong. Spread across the bed in your room were hundreds of flowers — peonies and white lilies, your favorites. Beside the piles of flowers were boxes of the chocolate pralines you loved so much. You didn’t even need an explanation; you knew they were all from her the moment you saw the message written on the bed. Please forgive me. But how the hell had Robin Buckley learned about your favorite things? You had never, ever told her anything about your personal life: your taste in music, movies, or books, not your favorite food, sweets, colors, nothing. You didn’t even know whether to feel flattered or terrified.
Sighing, you threw yourself onto the bed, buried beneath the piles of flowers, and screamed into the pillow, utterly frustrated. These last days at your job felt like pure torture, and Robin was making sure to make your life even harder.
Steve was standing in the crowd, with a reserved seat among the front rows. Robin’s best friend, who always attended her matches no matter the city or country they were held in. Steve was attractive in a strange kind of way. He had a rather big nose, and oh God, how much you were drawn to big noses! He was polite, respectful, and charismatic — exactly your ideal type of man! Maybe if you hadn’t been in love with his best friend, you would’ve flirted with him.
“Mr. Harrington, always a pleasure to see you again,” you said teasingly, and he chuckled before giving you a brief hug. “When did you get to China?”
“A few hours ago. I promised that Buckley snake girl I’d make it to the semifinals, and I kept my word. Henderson’s going to kill me because I missed our movie night, but he’ll get over it. He’s a big boy, after all.”
“Isn’t Dustin in college now? I’m surprised he still has time to hang out with you.”
“Believe me, I’m just as surprised.”
The two of you laughed, and you sat down in the seat beside him. There were still ten minutes left before the match started, so you had plenty of time to chat with Steve.
“I heard you want to quit. Honestly, you lasted longer than I expected.”
“Should I take that as a compliment, Harrington?”
“Interpret it however you want. Did Robin really get on your nerves that badly this time?”
You shrugged. You didn’t know what to answer. You didn’t even know if Robin had told him how horribly she had actually treated you. Did you even feel like having this conversation? You preferred talking about other things, not your own frustrations. Steve was probably trying to get information out of you so he could report back to the blonde later.
“A pitcher doesn’t go to the well too many times,” was all you replied, and from the corner of your eye, you saw Steve nodding approvingly. “Let’s not talk about that. How are you? Do you like being a coach? Got yourself a girlfriend yet?”
“I have a love-hate relationship with my job. Same goes for women, because my love life is just as disastrous as Buckley’s. I keep going on dates with girls, but either they’re not my type, or I’m not theirs. But what about you? Did you end up marrying your fiancé?”
God, how much you had hoped he wouldn’t bring Jonathan up. What were you supposed to tell him? That you had fallen in love with Robin, realizing in the process that you were attracted to women too, and that you’d broken off your engagement? You’d sound like the most horrible woman in the world! Besides, people didn’t even take bisexuality seriously. In many people’s eyes, you could only be attracted to one gender, never both. If you were a bisexual woman, then obviously you only liked men and were just pretending to be bisexual, and if you were a bisexual man, then you were simply considered gay. Bisexual people weren’t even taken seriously by their own community, which was incredibly disappointing.
“No, unfortunately. Jonathan is an extraordinary man, and he loved me very much, just as I loved him. You know, we were high school sweethearts and all that crap, but we had to end the relationship. I… was the reason for the breakup, because I fell in love with someone else.”
“Oh, wow, I wasn’t expecting that. Who’s the lucky guy?”
“Someone who doesn’t deserve me. Someone who treats me like an idiot. Someone who won’t be part of my life much longer.”
You noticed Steve’s expression suddenly change, from initial confusion to realization. His lips formed a wide “O,” and he was about to say something, but music suddenly blasted through the arena, announcing the start of the match. You stood up with a resigned sigh and nodded toward Steve.
“See you later, Steve. It was nice talking to you.”
Unable to respond, Steve only waved at you before pressing his hand over his lips. He had wanted to comment on his realization — namely, that the person you were in love with wasn’t a he, but a she, and that she was his damn best friend. There wasn’t a single day that Steve didn’t curse Robin Buckley for her recklessness.
You climbed up to the edge of the ring and handed Robin her mouthguard. She thanked you shyly and tried several times to catch your gaze, but without success. After placing the headgear on her head, you sat down in the front-row chair and watched the beginning of the match carefully.
Nothing unusual so far. Robin still had her flawless fighting performance everyone was used to. She dodged at exactly the right moment, defended herself during critical moments, and yet something was wrong with her. Her movements were either slightly rushed or almost delayed. Her fists seemed to tremble while she held her guard up, and she looked distracted.
“Buckley, focus on the match!” you shouted at her, trying to overpower the cheers and roaring crowd. You caught Robin glancing at you from the corner of her eye, and you wanted to yell at her again, tell her to keep her eyes on her opponent — but it was too late.
Her opponent’s fist slammed into Robin’s jaw, making her stagger on her feet, dazed for a few seconds. You instantly jumped up in shock.
“Buckley! Get yourself together, damn it!” And it wasn’t just you shouting those things — most of the people in the arena were her supporters too.
Robin started striking back hard, with power and excellent posture. It seemed like the match was returning to normal — meaning your girl was winning again — but Robin lost focus once more! Her opponent aimed for her head again, and Robin didn’t manage to defend herself in time. After two punches to the head, the girl collapsed to the floor. The scream that escaped your throat was terrified.
The other girl lunged at Robin, hitting her over and over in the ribs. You could hear Robin screaming, and there was nothing you could do except yell at the referee at the top of your lungs to stop the match, because it was obvious Robin couldn’t continue anymore. Robin rarely gave up fights, so the situation shocked everyone.
“Stop the match! She can’t fight anymore anyway!” you shouted as you moved closer to the ring. You heard Robin scream your name, followed by three slaps of her palm against the padded floor of the ring, and the match was officially declared over, with Robin defeated.
“Oh, God,” you murmured, nearly jumping straight into the ring to smash her opponent’s face in. You knelt beside the blonde and quickly removed her headgear. “Buckley, Buckley, talk to me! Can you hear me? Can you see me?”
Her nose was broken, blood running down to her chin. Painful sounds escaped from the back of her throat, and she curled into the fetal position like a baby.
“My ribs… I think she broke my ribs! Y/N, it hurts when I breathe, oh God!” she cried, pushing her head against your legs, seeking comfort exactly like a wounded animal. Your heart felt lodged in your throat.
“Medic!” you screamed so loudly your throat hurt. “Call a medic, for fuck’s sake!” You pulled Robin into your lap, carefully holding her head so she wouldn’t choke on her own saliva or the blood that wouldn’t stop flowing. “Try to stay conscious, okay? The medics will be here any second and they’ll take you to the hospital.”
“Don’t leave me… don’t leave me alone at the hospital,” she said between tearful hiccups, incoherent. “I’m scared of hospitals.”
For someone who practically got beaten up for a living, it was incredibly strange that she was afraid of hospitals, but you didn’t comment on it.
“Relax,” you murmured, brushing the sweaty hair off her forehead. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“Two fractured ribs, that’s probably the most serious of your injuries. Complete rest for the first three weeks, maybe a little cardio at most, as long as it’s very low intensity, as low as possible. No boxing or weight training for ten weeks.”
“Ten weeks? But I can’t—”
“It’s not negotiable, Miss Buckley. If you push yourself beyond what your body and health can handle, you risk developing pulmonary and respiratory problems. Miss manager, please keep a close eye on her, and under absolutely no circumstances allow her to break the recovery period.”
You took a deep breath, irritated by the doctor’s advice, which you had already intended to follow anyway. But you weren’t a confrontational person at all — something made obvious by your interactions with Robin — so you simply nodded in agreement. “I’ll take care of her,” you said as you exhaled deeply. You glanced at Robin for a split second before adding, “Like always.”
You left the hospital together, you carrying a bag full of the medication and painkillers Robin needed. The girl walked to your left, her arms wrapped around her chest. Her face was twisted into an expression of deep pain, and you genuinely felt bad for her. Not just because of the pain she was in, but because she had lost in the semifinals and missed the most important championship of that year. It wasn’t just Robin’s body that was hurt — her pride was wounded too.
“I’m sorry,” you said without looking at her. You felt ashamed.
“But why were you so distracted? That’s not like you at all, being so careless. You always fight perfectly, or at least almost perfectly. What happened to you?”
As you spoke, you pulled out your phone to call a taxi. Robin didn’t answer immediately; she just stood there thinking. For a long time, you thought she wouldn’t answer at all, that she was completely ignoring you, slipping back into her old habits.
“I was thinking about you.”
“Stop joking, Robin. Just be honest with me for once, please.”
Robin stepped in front of you, forcing you to look at her. She had deep dark circles under her eyes — she was always insomniac during competition periods — and the bruise on her jaw was beginning to darken, spreading from her jawline across her entire freckled left cheek. A small cut on her lower lip had only just stopped bleeding, and her nose, although thankfully not broken, looked like it was. But her eyes… her eyes were looking at you so intensely, though not in that cruel way of hers, but simply as if she were searching for something in you that even she didn’t know she was looking for.
“I’m not joking, y/n. I really was thinking about you. About the fact that after this competition, you’re leaving. I was thinking about what I could do to keep you by my side.”
“Robin, if I hadn’t told you I was leaving, you would’ve kept treating me like shit. It’s okay, you don’t have to pretend. You lost right near the end because you got distracted, and now you’re seriously hurt. Was it worth it?”
“Will you stay with me until I heal?”
You rolled your eyes and huffed in exasperation. “Of course I will! You already know that!”
The blonde grinned and shrugged. “Then it was worth it.”
This girl is going to kill you one day.
It is extremely hard for Robin to rest. Since she was sixteen, she has trained nonstop, and she doesn’t know how to live without putting her body to work. You can see it in the way she behaves — restless, annoyed, irritated, but also, surprisingly to you, incredibly sad. Boxing defines her, and such a long break makes her feel useless, as if she no longer has any purpose left in this world. She’s been injured before, but never this badly. She had never been forced to take a two-and-a-half-month break.
You had returned from China a few days ago. Without admitting it out loud, you had decided to remain Robin’s manager, and not just until she recovered, but for a much longer time. You concluded that this accident had affected her mentally far more than anyone realized, so she needed support. Even if she had never once considered your mental state, at least you could do it for her.
“I postponed your campaigns for a while,” you told her one day when she came over to your apartment. Why had she come? You had no idea, because you certainly hadn’t invited her. You woke up to find her at your door at seven in the morning, because she woke up with the chickens.
“I understand my ribs are wrecked, but my face is still pretty,” she joked, wrapping herself in your green blanket with oranges on it. “Thank you,” she murmured afterward. “I really didn’t feel capable of doing them anyway.”
It was hard to stay angry at her when she looked so miserable. You’d have time to hate her after she recovered.
“I’m just doing my job, Robin.”
“You could’ve left. You said you would after the championship, but you stayed by my side.”
“I would’ve been a monster, and I would’ve hated myself forever if I had abandoned you in such a vulnerable moment.”
Robin fell silent, but she kept staring at you. Her large blue eyes practically burned when they locked onto you.
“I’m going to get you some pain patches.”
She grabbed your wrist, and you sat back down on the couch. She moved closer to you, still holding your hand, your pulse beating chaotically beneath her long fingers.
“What is it?” You spoke more softly than you intended, but you couldn’t help it. Being this close to her felt… intoxicating. You couldn’t stop staring at her lips, couldn’t stop trying to count the freckles on her cheeks. You held yourself back from brushing her hair behind her ear, from kissing the tip of her nose.
“I’m really sorry for the way I treated you. I don’t have any hidden reason, you never did anything to me, never hurt me in any way. I just used to amuse myself by teasing my managers. I thought I was only teasing you too, just annoying you, but I never thought or expected that you would get sick because of me.”
You knew she was sincere, because Robin didn’t know how to lie. Every time she tried, she started laughing nervously and stuttering, but now she spoke clearly, with a voice drowned in tears.
“It’s okay, Robin. I forgave you a long time ago. Don’t think about it anymore, alright?”
She shook her head frantically, tightening her grip on your hand. Her nose started turning red, and large tears began streaming down her face. “But now you have diabetes, and you’ll live with this disability for the rest of your life. God, I’m so horrible, and you still let me into your home and take care of me.”
She burst into even harder sobs, burying her face in her hands. She cried uncontrollably, her chest heaving spasmodically from sobs that practically suffocated her. Instinctively, you pulled her into your arms, letting her cry against your chest.
“I promise I won’t be like this anymore. I promise… I promise I’ll become an exemplary person, just forgive me, please. Please, I’m begging you, don’t leave me too, y/n.”
“Shh, it’s okay, it’s okay,” you said, kissing her forehead. “I’m not going anywhere, I promise you. Please stop crying, it breaks my heart to see you like this and know you’re in this state.”
You don’t know how long the two of you stayed like that, holding each other, nor how long Robin kept crying. Maybe a few hours, maybe only a few minutes, but it didn’t matter. Little by little, you felt her calming down, and eventually, her breathing became steady again. When you lowered your head to look at her, you realized she had fallen asleep against your chest, just like a kitten. You smiled.
“You’re right,” you whispered, lying back so that both of you were stretched out on the couch beneath the blanket. “You really do have a beautiful face, Buckley.”
You don’t even remember when you fell asleep, but you know for certain that it was the most restful sleep of your life.
Robin had, indirectly, ended up living with you. After spending the night at your apartment on the evening she’d had that terrible crying breakdown, she’d kind of forgotten to go back home. You couldn’t say it bothered you — if anything, it felt nice after so many years of practically feeding yourself loneliness for breakfast. Steve would stop by your place, bringing Robin clothes and other things from her apartment, and then the three of you would hang out together, playing board games and sipping wine. Well, only you and Steve, because Robin was on antibiotics, so she drank pear juice instead.
“I’ve canceled your campaigns for now, but you still need to do a few interviews.”
“Can’t you postpone those too?” she whined from the kitchen chair. You were stretched out on the couch, working on Robin’s schedule for when she’d return to the spotlight on your tablet.
“Unfortunately, no. It won’t take long, I promise. You’ll just make a few statements about your health, and then you’re free. Besides, it’s only been three weeks out of the recovery period.”
Robin sighed and sat down beside you on the couch. She handed you a plate with two slices of pizza and a can of Diet Coke. Your diabetes hadn’t slipped her mind for a second since she’d found out about it. And now that she was staying at your place, she made sure you ate something every day. Normally, she ate extremely healthy, like an athlete would, but she made exceptions sometimes, and today was one of those days.
“Thanks,” you smiled, taking a bite of pizza.
“Your friend, Nancy,” she suddenly started, catching your attention, “doesn’t know about your illness?”
“She does. Everyone close to me knows.”
“Why doesn’t she check on me? Why doesn’t she care about my health? Because they don’t care. From their point of view, if I have a well-paid job, then I don’t have any other problems. I can afford insulin and an insulin pump, I live in a nice apartment — what more could I possibly want? They don’t even reach out to me. I’m always the one doing it.”
You didn’t say it to play the victim; it was the truth. Your family only took interest in you when they needed a bank transfer. Whenever you had problems, you had to deal with them yourself. Nancy texted occasionally, but she never stayed in touch for long.
“I’m sorry, y/n,” Robin said, and you could hear the sadness in her voice.
“It’s okay. I’m used to it. I can’t rely on friends or family, so I only rely on myself. I guess it’s part of growing up. I’m just adapting to adult life.”
You couldn’t look her in the eyes because you knew you’d start crying. You really were used to it, but it still hurt. You constantly hoped someone would check on you too, that you’d feel like somebody cared, and it was all in vain. You wanted to slap yourself for how ridiculous you were. You had so many expectations — it was still stupid.
Robin took the plate from your hands and set it down on the coffee table. Then she cupped your face in her hands.
“From now on, I’ll take care of you. Lean on me. I know I’ve screwed up countless times, but I promise I’m not lying to you now.”
“Robin, one swallow doesn’t make a summer,” you whispered. “Just because I forgave you doesn’t mean I suddenly trust you.”
You placed your hand over her left wrist and gently tilted your head to the side, just enough to lean into the warmth of her palm for a few moments. Then, with a soft sigh, you kissed the pulse point on her wrist and noticed the slight shiver that ran through her. Anyone seeing you two would’ve thought she was the inexperienced one when it came to relationships with women, not you.
“Then I’ll do my best to convince you,” she said, never taking her eyes off yours for even a second.
“Robin, if earning someone’s trust were that easy…”
“These aren’t empty words. I’m not rushing things or talking more than I should. I promised I’d change, and I didn’t lie.” She brushed her thumb over your lower lip, and you struggled to draw breath through your parted lips. You were so tense, so overheated, so… you didn’t even know yourself. You were fighting every bone in your body not to kiss Robin Buckley. Conflict of interest, conflict of interest, conflict of interest — that was your mantra, what you repeated over and over to suppress your insane urge to get closer to your client than you should.
“You’re incredibly beautiful,” she said, and just as she leaned toward you, the front door lightly slammed against the wall, making both of you jump.
“Ladies, I brought a few board games and some—”
Steve stopped in the living room entrance, staring at the two of you in surprise. Robin almost instantly pulled her hands away from your face, while you hid your gaze, absolutely certain your cheeks were red as a poppy flower.
“Am I interrupting something?”
“Absolutely nothing,” Robin said pleasantly, getting up from the couch and walking toward Steve. “Now let’s see what you brought. I hope you didn’t forget I can’t drink alcohol, Harrington.”
You knew Steve wasn’t stupid — he definitely knew the two of you had been about to do something major. And on top of that, he’d clearly figured out from what you’d told him at the game that you were in love with Buckley. Oh, you wanted so badly to bang your head against the walls!
You don’t know exactly how you started falling in love with Robin. It’s not like the way she treated you drew you to her, because she behaved terribly toward you until you dropped the bombshell about leaving. Sure, maybe it was her appearance that attracted you at first. She was beautiful—gorgeous, even, in your eyes. Maybe it was also the dominant way she carried herself—the way she looked at you and said so much with just a glance, her hand on your waist whenever she guided you through crowds at events, the way a single word from her could make you stop whatever you were doing and immediately shift all your attention to her. There was something Robin Buckley had, something that drove you crazy and made you want her so badly, in every possible way.
And yet, she had broken your heart so many times. So many times you saw her with other women—women prettier than you, with more attractive bodies and intelligence far superior to yours.
You still remember it vividly, and you could never forget. You were together at an afterparty after she won the gold trophy at the 2023 world championship. The club was packed with people, but you couldn’t take your eyes off her; she was that magnetic. And the thing was, she was looking at you too, in a way she never had before. She seemed to be tempting you, seducing you, pulling you toward her. And you, like an idiot, actually believed it. You really started walking toward her. And in that exact moment, a girl pressed her lips to Robin’s neck, making you freeze where you stood. Your heart dropped into your stomach, then shattered across the floor. You and Robin still had your eyes locked on each other, and the music seemed to disappear, just like the people in the club. It was only the two of you, inside your own universe. And yet, you weren’t one person, because Robin already had someone beside her. You don’t know how long you stood there, staring at each other, but you remember how badly it hurt. And you also remember leaving the club almost running, crying in the taxi and even after you got home. Anyway, you never talked about it. It was humiliating, especially for you.
Then, you kept seeing her going in and out of hotel rooms with different women. Every time she saw you, she’d throw you a subtle grin and wink at you. She found it amusing, of course, but to you it felt terrible, tragic, horrible. You hoped Robin would eventually fall in love with you too, even though you knew she shouldn’t. It was already bad enough that you had fallen for her, and she was your client. You didn’t want a conflict of interest, but God, how badly you wanted her attention, her validation, and her love. She had no idea how desperately you wanted her to want you too. That’s when you truly understood and learned how painful unrequited love could be.
“Would you like to come with me to the Gucci event as my plus one?” Robin asked while you were cooking in the kitchen. She was perched on the kitchen counter, helping you with some utensils and ingredients. She’d put on a little weight while recovering, and she looked adorable, with slightly puffier cheeks.
“Maybe yes, maybe no. I have a very busy schedule, you know.”
“Oh, really? I thought I took up all your time.”
You laughed, lifting your eyes from the pan to look at her. She was grinning from ear to ear too. You reached out and gently stroked her knee. “Sure, Buckley. I’d love to.”
“Great! Curl your hair—you’re my weakness when your hair’s curly.”
You felt your cheeks flush. What was probably just a casual compliment to her meant so much to you. You couldn’t help yourself and looked at Robin again.
“Of course,” she murmured, lightly brushing her knuckles over your left cheekbone. “You always are, but I wanted to point out just how much I love your curly hair.”
You turned the stove down to the lowest setting and stepped closer to her. You gently parted her legs so you could move in even closer. Robin didn’t hesitate—she wrapped her arms around your neck in the calmest, most natural way possible. Your heart was pounding against your ribs.
“You love teasing me this much. If only you knew, Buckley…”
There was a tension in your apartment kitchen sharp enough to cut with a knife. Neither of you wanted to look away; it felt like a competition over who would give in first. You softly touched Robin’s cheek with one hand, then the other. You caressed her cheeks, her cheekbones, then let your fingers brush over her lips. She looked so beautiful right then, wearing one of your pajama shirts, her hair clipped up, her face flushed red. You truly didn’t think you had ever seen anyone more beautiful than her.
And in that moment, you could feel that she wanted you too. The way she looked at you wasn’t how a friend looked at another friend. She was attracted to you—you knew that without a doubt. Would one of you finally make the first move?
“Fuck it,” you said, pulling her head toward yours and crashing your lips against hers. Robin gasped in surprise, but immediately tightened her arms around your neck and deepened the kiss. Her breathing grew heavier, just like yours, and in the next second she jumped off the counter and turned you around so now you were the one leaning against it.
“Took you long enough,” she said between breaths while kissing along your jawline and neck.
“I was waiting for you to seduce me first, Buckley,” you sighed, embarrassed by how good her kisses felt against your neck.
“You’ve been seducing me since the moment I signed that contract, damn it!”
You both laughed, and Robin pressed her mouth against yours again. You had never felt as happy as you did in that moment. There was no grand love confession, no scene straight out of The Notebook, and this kiss didn’t necessarily mean a relationship was about to begin. Maybe it was just a spark destined, someday, to become a flame that would eventually burn out—or maybe it was the beginning of a great love. The possibilities were endless, but for the moment, all you wanted was to melt into this girl’s kiss.
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