Hey can you write robin x reader where reader is in the news paper team with nancy. And robin is always coming in and skipping classes to see reader. One day she randomly asks to join ( not just for the reader definitely not) and nancy ( readers best friend) cant stand the awkward flirting and obliviousness so she partnered them up for a project but robin as no clue what shes doing! Thanks
Love in print (r.b x fem! reader)
Or, Robin is smitten with you after you interview her for the newspaper club and finds herself writing an advice collum in order to spend more time with you. Thank you for the request, I tweaked it a little I hope that's ok. (4.7k)
(Warnings, making out, mentions of homophobia)
Robin isn’t sure how exactly she found herself in this position. One minute she was simply a band geek who minded her own business, now she was running an advice collum for the school newspaper.
How she, of all people, was giving the school population advice, dating and otherwise, was beyond her. When Nancy had first given her the job it had been for one reason and one reason only, you. As soon as you had interviewed her for the band, she had been completely smitten.
It was your first time interviewing and it was clear you were wrung out with nerves. Your attempt at a smile was so sweet, your pen tapping back and forth against your notebook with ferocity.
Your anxiety fueled her own and she began rambling on and on every time you asked a question until you were relaxing enough to genuinely enjoy what she was talking about.
“Tutankhamun's trumpets are the oldest working trumpets in the world though! They were buried for over 3,000 years and they still worked, isn’t that really cool, but then..” She noticed you had stopped writing a long time ago, looking at her instead of the notebook you had been furiously scribbling in earlier to keep up with her rambling.
She knew she talked far too much, especially when she was nervous. She had long lost count of all the times she had been told to be quiet. If there was an awkward silence it was like her mouth had a mind of its own, it just wouldn’t stop running. Anything to fill the quiet so she wouldn’t have to worry about why it was silent in the first place.
“Sorry, I, I should probably shut up, you came to talk to the rest of the band too” Robin murmured.
You shook your head, a genuine smile on your face instead of the nervous one from earlier. “I came to talk to you,” You insisted, “then what happened to the trumpets?”
It took Robin a second to reboot. Your genuine interest in what she was talking about was such a rarity that it made her cheeks flame. Usually when she was in this deep people stopped listening, just waiting until she was finished.
“During the rehearsal for a radio show where they were going to play the trumpets, the silver one broke!”
“What no way! I couldn’t even imagine what I would do if i broke a 3,000-year-old artefact” You giggled, eyes crinkling. “Did they have to cancel the broadcast then?”
Robin shook her head, “They still managed to do it, can you imagine listening to the trumpets over the radio that Egyptians had listened to all those years ago?”
“That must have been really cool,” You say emphatically, tucking your pen behind your ear. “You must be really passionate about the trumpet to know all these facts,”
“Oh…Well, I-” Robin stuttered, caught off guard by this sudden shift in conversation. She could recite facts and stories till the cows came home, but talking about herself was another matter. “I think it’s just natural you pick it up,” Did you think it was weird how much she knew about the trumpet, did you think she was some trumpet freak that slept with it every night?
You shook your head, “You’re not giving yourself enough credit” You insisted “You’re just really smart, I was talking to the flute players and I think I learnt more prepping in the library to talk to you guys than I did from talking to them, you’re the best interview I’ve done by far, it was actually so interesting talking to you I kept forgetting to take notes” You admitted, shifting from one foot to another nervously.
For once Robin was stunned to silence, realising she wasn’t going to talk anymore you started again. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that, they’re totally your friends and I just bad-mouthed them, I’m so sorry, it's just-”
“It’s not that I just- people don’t normally…I’m not used to compliments” from someone so cute.
“Oh,”
Now you must think she has no friends and no confidence, which she supposes isn’t exactly untrue.
“Well you should get used to them Robin Buckley, you’re gonna be going places, I can just tell” You grinned, bouncing on your feet again. Your smile must be infectious because Robin smiled right back, cheeks turning rosy.
“You think so?” Robin asked casually. Like that isn’t someone she’d always dreamed of being told, like you haven’t just given her enough material here that she’s going to spend the rest of her life daydreaming about this moment.
“I know so”
It was then that you cemented yourself as the girl that appears in every one of her dreams and fantasies, She knows she’s going to talk to Steve about you until he’s sick of hearing your name. She’s going to look for you every time she’s in the halls in hopes of seeing your nervous feet bouncing against the linoleum.
It was all a haze as you explained that you’ll be back to take some photos on Friday because since Johnathan left there's only one camera and someone else had stolen it, even though you booked it out. The adorable furrow of your brow is saved in her memory bank for her late-night daydreams.
-
By the time Robin see’s you again she’s learned everything she can about you from Nancy.
You hadn’t had a boyfriend since middle school and insisted that he didn’t count, Andy asked you on a date last year and you rejected him along with seemingly anyone else who tried to ask you out. Nancy was surprisingly loose with the information she shared, offering up far more than Robin had even dared to ask about.
Even though she had gone through a million possible talking points all day, as soon as she saw you, one foot tapping on the floor it all flew right out the window. The camera was looped around your neck and you were fiddling with the buttons, scowling at it in confusion.
“Hey,” Robin greeted, trying to be as casual as possible as she placed her trumpet case on the table and started to put it together.
“Hi” You mumbled, still staring daggers into the camera, “Sorry, I just,” You pressed the buttons a couple of times, “The settings have all been messed up and…I’m so hopeless at this” You murmured, “I asked Johnathon for advice on the phone last night, but it was so much easier when he was here, I have like no idea what I’m doing, god I’m sorry I shouldn’t be complaining.”
“No, it’s ok, I don’t mind, maybe-”
She flinches as you press a button accidentally and she’s blinded by the flash. “Shit, I’m so sorry, are you ok?” You say abandoning the camera and letting it hang from your neck. “Sorry, I’m not normally so… it’s just my first time being in charge of a whole section, it feels like so much pressure. I really don’t want to let Nancy down”
Robin rubs her eyes, trying to reassure you while acting like there aren’t spots appearing in her vision. “I don’t think there's much chance of that, she’s been telling me how great you are all day,”
“Really?”
“Yeah, plus you’re really good at interviewing, I mean, I’ve never been interviewed before, but you made me feel really well interviewed. I mean, just that it was super thorough, but not like an interrogation, trust me I’ve been through one of those and it was awful,” Robin says inching closer and closer. Her mouth once again moved without thinking.
“You’ve been interrogated?” You questioned, finally smiling as you push some hair from your face. “I didn’t realise you were such a trouble maker”
“Oh no, I was innocent,” Robin quickly corrects, “Falsely imprisoned”
“Wow, I didn’t think you could beat your Egyptian trumpet story, but this sounds like it just might.”
Robin blushes, she isn’t sure if you’re making fun of her at first, but the warmth in your eyes makes her think it's the opposite. Still, she knows she can’t actually tell you that story, so she tries to move on. “I could have a look at the camera if you want, my mum has one just like it.”
“If you don’t mind,”
“I don’t mind at all,” Robin grins, moving beside you as you hold out the camera. She has to look over your shoulder, chin slightly brushing against your cheek. She can feel the heat radiating from you, while she fixes the settings for you.
This was probably going to be the last time she would talk to you, once this issue was finished you would go your way and she would go hers. Maybe she could make up some reason to visit Nancy in the club room, see you in passing in the halls.
Only she wants to watch as your nervous smile melts away to a real one, just because of her. She wants to place her hand in yours, feel your palm pressing into her own while you listen to her stories and offer your own up as well.
She takes her time fiddling with the buttons, it didn’t really need much doing anyway, but she isn’t going to let you know that.
She just wishes she had more courage, or that she didn’t have to hide her affection for girls and she could just be herself. Without worrying that asking out the wrong person could ruin her life or at least make her need to move three towns over.
Once she’s finally done she settles the camera down in your hand, ignoring the way you lean away from her touch once she’s finished. “Thank you,” You say, moving your hand to tuck your hair behind your ear, even though it’s already tucked away.
“No problem, I’ve wanted to get more into photography anyway” It’s a complete lie. She isn’t even sure why she says it. She just hopes it will make you stop curling in on yourself, wilting right in front of her eyes from embarrassment.
“Oh really?” You question, brightening up again. “You could always use our darkroom if you need to. We could do with an extra pair of hands if you know anything about developing photos?”
Robin had absolutely no idea how to develop photos in a darkroom. “I would love that!”
While Robin didn’t know much at all about photography, she was going to become an expert if it meant she could spend time with you.
“Great! They’ll love some extra help, I was helping out last week but I tripped over a chair and spilt the developer everywhere, now it’s like every time I need to develop photos no one else is available to help” You laughed.
“Well, I’ll always help!” Robin grinned, loving the way you started to fiddle with your fingers. It was nice to make someone flustered for a change.
Robin didn’t realise how little free time she had. With band, school, homework and work it was difficult to find time to go to the newspaper club and help out. Plus she was nervous you just offered to be nice, not because you wanted to see her.
It took her a minute of pacing outside the door to pluck up the courage to walk through the door, a little worried she might immediately be kicked out.
Your smile when she came through the door threatened to spilt your face in half. “You really came!” You exclaimed, abandoning what you were doing and tucking your pen behind your ear. You immediately stand up from the desk you were typing at, Nancy watching with amusement.
It was worth it, it was definitely worth it she thought. Even if she died in the dark room from the fumes she was going to die happy. Never had she been greeted with such excitement.
Nancy smiled knowingly from her place next to you, looking up from what she was doing to raise an eyebrow at Robin, “I didn’t realise you were interested in photography,”
“It’s a recent interest” Robin defended.
“Nance” You scorned, at the same time “Please don’t,”
The two of you looked at each other, both thinking Nancy was referring to you. You picked at your nails as Robin ruffled at her own hair.
“You should get a hurry on if you wanna finish before next period,” Nancy warns, squeezing your wrist in reassurance as you sway on your feet next to her.
Robin glares at the touch, jealous even though she knows she had no right. Especially so when Nancy is very much dating Jonathan. It’s stupid when she knows you so little, she supposes you are on her mind so much it feels like you’re closer than you actually are.
“Right, I’ll lead the way” You offer. Your arm leaves Nancy’s hold as your hand presses gently against her arm instead. She wishes she had gone for a short sleeve shirt today so she could feel your hand against her skin. She settles with the warmth seeping from your palm instead. She feels the warmth spreading down her entire arm, mourning the loss when you let go.
You lead her to the small darkroom, informing her that it will just be the two of you. Her chest warms and so do her cheeks.
You spend an hour in the dark room, giggling together over the chemicals. She taught you how to develop the photos step by step, pretending she hadn’t just absorbed all the information she was telling you hours prior.
Even using her hands at one point to guide your own. It was a move Steve had told her to use during their last shift, she swore it was stupid and she wasn’t going to do it. Yet her she was, rings cold against your own skin as she helped you shake the photo just right to dry it off a little before hanging it up.
Once you had finished the few photos that needed doing for the day, you both started packing up. Moving at a much slower pace than when you had been setting up the equipment.
Your hand brushes against hers as you both grab for the same pair of tongs and it makes you bump your hip into the table and the developer splashes over the sides of the tray. “Sorry…” You mumble, stepping away from her a little.
She wasn’t sure if you were apologising for the contact or for spilling the developer. Either way, she wished you wouldn’t.
She found herself skipping gym so often that the coach was concerned about her iron levels. He even pulled her aside to offer to make an appointment with the school nurse for her. The time spent with you in the darkroom was worth the embarrassment, especially that day.
Robin was wearing a tinted chapstick she had bought specifically because you had been wearing it the week before. She hadn’t meant to buy it, but just before she could even think her hand grabbed it and added it to her basket.
It made your lips look extra kissable, so she just wanted her lips to look the same. No ulterior motive whatsoever.
Every time she used it, she would blush thinking of your lips, wondering if that’s how you would taste. She didn’t think anything could fluster her more until you noticed her putting it on.
“We have the same lip balm,” You stated, pointing to your lips, covered in the same sticky tint. She panicked, thinking you thought she was weird, trying to find some way to explain. “I wouldn’t have minded sharing,” You say, grinning coyly.
Her brain didn’t work for the entire rest of the day. Behind a timid exterior, you were such a minx. You were always complimenting her any chance you got, barely hiding a smirk at her red cheeks.
It was that day Nancy had approached her, arms crossed and leaning against the table. You had gone to interview Gareth about his local band. You had talked all about it to Robin, you had been Gareth’s lab partner every year since freshman and had a soft spot for him. That was all she heard before her mind drifted off, eyes focused on your lips and nothing else.
Normally you talking about some guy would be enough to make her jealous, but she was still mushy-brained from earlier so she just nodded along to everything you said, missing her chance to offer to tag along.
“We both know you’re not interested in photography, Buckley” Nancy had begun, cutting Robin off before she could even come up with some excuse. “If you’re gonna spend all your time here anyway, might as well do something useful”
So that was how Robin ended up in charge of an advice collum she had no interest in. Nancy told her it would improve the readership to get more of the student body involved, but Robin wasn’t convinced.
Until you had eagerly nodded along, praising Nancy for such a good idea when you came back from your interview.
Every time Robin tried to get out of it she was re-persuaded.
“I’m awful at giving advice” Robin reasoned.
“You helped me” You encouraged. Smiling at her with teeth as you moved some of your papers and pens away from your cluttered desk, “I don’t think I could even cope without you anymore,”
“But..” Robin thought of the small darkroom, the enclosed space leaving no room for anyone other than you and her. She could talk to you in private, without needing to worry about other people.
The advice collum had no photographs, she would have no reason at all to go in there anymore. What if you didn’t even get to spend time together at all any more, she would have to actually write a whole advice section. It didn’t leave much time for staring at your face.
“And you can set up right next to me, it gets pretty lonely writing all by yourself, so we can keep each other company”
All her arguments died on her tongue as she realised what you were doing. Tidying things away and dragging a chair over, so that she could sit right next to you.
She was done for, today was far too much for her to deal with.
Her brain, which had been re-solidifying, abandoned her once again. All she could think of was you. Your sweet smiles, the pen you always tucked behind your ear and then would endearingly forget was there, your shaky hands and jumpy legs.
Even now, despite your confident facade, she could see the nerves in your foot as you tapped it against the floor. You gazed up at her, hoping you hadn’t overstepped by assigning her a place right next to your own.
“That sounds perfect”
So here she was, tapping away on an old typewriter to try and help a mystery freshman whose fiery girlfriend just wouldn’t stop dumping him.
You sat next to her, shoulder brushing her own. No longer so shy with touch, you were often glued to her side. You always sat next to her, writing your articles together. Giving each other advice and spell-checking for each other.
She wished she had an advice collum she could write to.
One day, when she was definitely not trying to impress you by speaking French, ( it totally came up naturally she swears) you look as lovesick as her. Only it’s difficult for her to actually talk to you about it, one wrong move and she could either have a girlfriend or be a bigger social pariah than Eddie Munson.
She’s almost at breaking point today, you’re playing with her rings. She had abandoned them on the table.
They had been irritating her, rubbing against her skin as she tried to type as fast as she could. You had taken that as an opportunity to investigate, scrutinising each one before sliding them on your fingers. You had finished writing a little while ago but were still waiting for her.
You’ve put another one of her rings on your finger, pushing it up and down and up again, twisting it back and forth. “These are really pretty Rob” You compliment, eyes not leaving your hands, twisting them back and forth in the light.
Rob. A little nickname you had recently started using that sent butterflies to her stomach.
“Thanks,” She says, her rhythmic typing stuttering for a second. Did you have any idea what you did to her? How a simple compliment from you made her heart skyrocket. She quickly shakes off the thought, typing even faster so she can get on to the final bit of advice for this week.
She was hoping to finish early so she could somehow segway into going to get some food together. Only she had so many people asking for help this week, Valentine's Day was quickly approaching, so it was taking even longer than usual.
Finally finished with her advice for Basketball Boy, so Robin could finally move on to the last bit of advice.
She looks down at the last bit of paper, you had picked out for her this week, insisting you didn’t have much to do for your article this time and wanting to save her the trouble.
She sighs, seeing another person asking for dating advice. This one is written in a glittering gel pen, they were pretty popular right now, especially the kind that smells like fruits.
She had seen you using one last week, and you had excitedly held it out to her asking her to smell it. She nodded along saying it smelt nice, but really all she could smell was your perfume and it had made her light-headed.
Shaking herself out of her daydreams, she reads over the flowery script.
Dear R,
There’s a girl in my club and she’s all i can think about, I took on a role in my club just to talk to her, back when she didn’t even know I existed. Now we’re friends and I’m terrified of ruining it, please help me, how do I tell her I like her without telling her I like her?
Robin reads over the submission again and again. It’s almost like she wrote it herself.
You rest your head onto Robin’s shoulder, cheek pressing against the sleeve of her shirt. She can feel the warmth of your skin seeping through the fabric. You’re always so warm and Robin is obsessed with it.
January is so cold, she wishes she could bury herself in between your legs, face pressed into your stomach. At least she wants to hold your hand, in fact, she’s pretty sure you’d let her. Friends, do that all the time right? Maybe if she held Nancy's hand first to set a precedence then it wouldn’t need to mean any-
“So…” You mumble, fiddling with her rings again, which are still on your fingers. “What do you think?”
Robin ponders, how could she give this person advice when she was going through the exact same thing and was clueless. “I’m not sure, if he likes her so much then he should just tell her, clearly he never wanted to just be friends”
“Do you think it’s creepy?”
“Do you?” She stutters, of all the weird submission’s you’ve read together, how can the one you think is strange be the one closest to her own situation?
You slump down into your seat and Robin immediately mourns the loss of your touch. “I just…well, the girl has no idea that they’re friends because…you know.”
“I think he should tell her” Robin decides, just because she has to suffer her crushes in silence, doesn’t mean everyone should. “Even if she doesn’t like him, they can still be friends. Look at Steve and me,”
“What if they couldn’t, what if telling them would ruin everything”
“What’s the worst that could happen to him,” Robin reasons, “A bit of embarrassment, maybe he would lose a friend, I think he has more to gain than he has to lose.”
You’re silent for a moment, and then you turn to Robin in your chair. You’ve dumped Robin’s rings and started chipping at your nail polish. A habit that you keep saying you’re going to break, but never do.
“You’re assuming it’s a guy”
“Huh”
“You’re assuming it’s a guy, but look at the writing, look at the glitter gel pen.”
Robin looks down, her thumb rubbing against the sparkly gel pen, the looped cursive is very feminine, but Robin can’t even believe it. Could it really be, could there really be another person like her?
She’s speechless as she takes in the possibility, and then she reads over the letter again.
Robins's heart pounds, she knows she shouldn’t get her hopes up, but it’s already too late. You have this kind of gel pen, even if half the year does too, you have recently made a new friend and you met because of your club. Surely it isn’t completely out of the realm of possibility that it might have been you.
Did you start writing for the entertainment section just to talk to her?
“I think she should tell her,”
“You…You do” You stumble, eyes staring into hers, searching for something.
Robin is pretty sure if you don’t confess to her within the next 30 seconds she going to physically deflate like a balloon. Despite herself, her hopes are sky high. She nods her head eagerly, sure if she speaks her voice will betray her by coming out squeaky.
She’s already biting back her grin before you even start to speak.
“Robs” You start, you sound so quiet and she leans forward in her chair. Both to hear you better and to hopefully give you easier access to her lips. “I…Have you ever read anything by Sappho?”
The breath Robin was holding in came out in a rough exhale. This must be it, it has got to be her. Her legs bounce from trying to hold herself back from throwing herself into your embrace and squealing at the top of her lungs.
She nodded her head again and your eyes lit up like a kid on Christmas, hands darting out to cup her cheeks, bringing more warmth to her heated skin.
“I like you,” She can feel your nerves as your hands shake against her cheeks.
She can’t really believe it. Any of it.
She lurches forward so fast that she almost sends her chair flying. Despite her lack of grace, her kiss is tender. Her hands dwarf your own as she tries to soothe you and your shuddering fingers.
You have the tinted lip balm on today and she greedily hopes it stains her own lips so she has a visual reminder of this moment. She swears she’ll never wipe her lips, eat, drink or do anything that could remove the stain from her lips, even if she dies of dehydration.
Her plan is quickly ruined when you're brought out of your stupor, moving forward with more ferocity than she would ever expect. One hand escapes her hold and clutches the back of her neck, drawing her and her rolling chair forward. You lick greedily at her bottom lip, thighs caging in one of her legs.
Her lips part in shock, your innocent kiss turning into something more. You clutch onto her like you’re terrified of her slipping away. She returns your kiss, one hand squeezing your own, the other moving to cup your cheek.
She brushes her thumb against the apple of your cheek, relishing the soft gasp it gets out of you.
When you part, your eyes flick to hers before quickly looking away. Your shyness returns and it's just as endearing as it was the first time she met you. Despite your embarrassment, you curl one arm around her waist, bringing her as close as you can until your chairs touch.
“I really like you,” You say, timidly, leaving no room for argument.
Robin smiles so hard her cheeks hurt, her brain practically a puddle at her feet.
Maybe She was better at giving advice than she thought.
Robin is totally gay panicking over you, because you’re her girlfriend and you’re so pretty and what the hell is she supposed to do with that? contains: newly established relationship; robin being her awkward cute self; reader takes off her shirt to change and robin has a well deserved, tiny melt down over it.
The thing is, they don’t tell you how to handle stuff like this.
This is what Robin thinks, as she watches you unbutton your shirt and throw it carelessly onto the bed. Your bed. That is fitted with a pink, floral duvet and adorable heart-shaped pillows and stuffed animals galore.
Robin literally doesn’t know what to do with herself.
And—really, it’s not like she hasn’t seen you undressed before. She has. This isn’t anything new! You’ve been friends since middle school, right? And, you always shared a cubicle in the changing rooms during gym class, and, it hadn’t been a problem then! But this is— different, somehow. Like being here, in your room, while you pick through the white-wood drawers by your bedside for something less hot to wear (because June has finally decided to say hello) has changed absolutely everything.
But nothing’s changed, she tries to tell herself. Except the fact that as of last week she’s your girlfriend, and she doesn’t know the etiquette. Is she supposed to look? Is she supposed to not look? Well, currently, she’s staring at the polka-dots on the socks you gave her for her birthday, to keep herself from exploding.
No, that can’t be right.
It’s just— gosh! You’re so pretty, okay? You have these swooping shoulders and soft skin and a kissable mouth. The bralette you’re wearing is sage green. She notices little details about you, like: the waxy crescent-shaped burn mark on your wrist from when you’d tried smoking menthols in the eighth grade; the dark mole at the centre of your back that nobody else has probably ever really looked at; the chip in your front tooth from when you’d fallen off your bike when you were eleven, and it’s unfair because she knows you in these tiny, intimate segments, and thinks she might burst into a million tiny pieces and—
“What do you think?” You ask, holding up a pastel pink tank top. It has a lacy hem. Robin thinks she might die.
“Um,” she supplies uselessly. Then, “it’s very pretty.”
You blink at her. “D’you think it’ll go with these jeans? Or shall I put on a skirt?”
She feels helplessly and immeasurably gay. She might faint. She might throw up. Her heart is beating at like, a thousand miles per hour and it’s ridiculous! Her gut twists, like she’s nervous—? Anticipating—?
What exactly?
“Uh,” Robin supplies, very uselessly, this time.
You giggle at her response, and it is a wonderful sound. “Hey birdie? Are you— okay? It’s just…” there’s nothing malicious about you, all soft and melty like cotton candy, even now, as your girlfriend is gawking at you like you’ve grown a second head. “Well it’s just. You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“Oh.”
“Oh my god. Is it heatstroke?”
You flutter towards her and abandon your tank top somewhere on the floor.
Robin swallows. Hard. Her mouth is completely dry. Dryer than the Sahara. How did this happen? She can’t remember how to breathe. She’d probably start hyperventilating if her heart wasn’t completely frozen in her chest right now. Is she even alive? Wow! Imagine that: death by hot girlfriend on her gravestone.
Steve The Hair Harrington would be so jealous.
Anyway. The fog clears out of her head when she feels your hands squishing her face with practically no force at all. Absently, she supposes, she must just be putty in you hands. “No!” She shakes her head furiously. “I’m okay! Really. It’s not heatstroke. I just—! Oh my god. This is so embarrassing.”
There’s a flash of something inviting in your eyes. “It won’t be embarrassing.”
It will. It will, it will, it will.
You pinch her cheek in quiet encouragement, and Robin’s eyebrows pinch at the centre.
The sun is streaming through the windows. It casts a halo of light around your head, and Robin thinks: yeah, that makes sense.
She opens her mouth, but nothing of substance rises to it. She looks at the well of your collar-bone. She thinks she could press her lips to it and feel your pulse. “I don’t. Um…”
“What was that honey?”
“I don’t know— where to look.” She wrinkles her nose in embarrassment. “Anymore. Because we’re—! You’re my girlfriend now and I don’t want to be weird or anything!”
There’s a pause that feels like an eternity and Robin thinks the world might as well swallow her down to hell.
Then you laugh. And it’s— it sounds like cherries and waterfalls and silk dancing in the wind. If that makes sense. It probably doesn’t; she might have a concussion.
Her knees wobble, anyway. She is helpless to you. It’s quite ridiculous, really.
“Is that all?” You inquire, stepping up onto your toes. A smile splits your mouth open. “Robin. You can look at me all you want,” you kiss the tip of her nose, giggling, and she feels her entire body heat up. “Or… you can close them.”
Robin is completley boneless. “What?”
“Close your eyes?” You suggest cheerfully, eyelashes fluttering. They’re sooty with mascara, and they make your doe-eyes impossibly bigger, and Robin finds herself doing exactly what you ask of her because how can she possibly say no?
And then, your hands are absent from her face but now they’re sliding up her neck, angling her to your liking. She can feel you consider, something, and electricity fizzes in her veins and—oh! There’s that feeling again. Like she could float away or dissipate and then—
You’re kissing her. And it’s a perfect kiss. Your third ever kiss, since you boldly asked her to be your girlfriend after cheer practice, in your cute little skirt and cuter little bow and frilly lace socks. She’d been mad because she’d wanted—tried to ask you first.
She’s happier now she’s getting a kiss out of it.
Robin bends her head down, chasing for more, sighing contentedly through her nose. Your mouth is soft. Glossy. It tastes a bit like strawberries.
Her hands are still raised awkwardly by your head, unsure of where to land. But it’s okay. Everything’s okay, really.
The world slows down. The birds sing. The sky clears.
You pull away, expression light and teasing.
Robin gazes you at him bashfully, still breathing a little hard, and counts the sparkles in your eyes.
“Robin,” you coo, “you’re adorable.”
She scratches the back of her neck, embarrassed. “Says you.”
That’s what caused this mess, she thinks meekly.
You smooth your fingers over her brow. “I really like you, Buckley.”
contains: established relationships, sleep talking robin, gentle affections, reader! in love.
Robin says all sorts of things half asleep. Fragments of dreams, of half-thought of worlds. Snapshots of yesterday’s long gone bleeding through into an infinite tonight. It’s weird. It’s cute. Just another thing about her that you can adore. Secretly, untouched.
In the quiet twilight, with her nose kissing your shoulder, she mumbles sweetness into the world.
You stroke your fingers through her hair. It’s getting longer, enough to stoke the wings of her collar bone, even when her back is straight. She keeps saying she’s going to cut it off, and never gets round to it— says it’s on the back burner. Steve told you it’s because you’d called it pretty. She’s too smitten for it, he’d said.
Anyway.
Softer than honey, she melts into your touch. Her leg is thrown carelessly over the bracket of your hip. She radiates a heat that is incredibly kind. It’s nice. Comfortable. You like these tiny, still moments that you can steal from time.
You curl your hand against her neck, and she sighs against your skin.
“…Love you,” she murmurs cluessly.
It warms you impossibly. A smile lifts the corners of your mouth.
“I love you too, birdie.”
With the gentle affection she inspires within you, you tilt your head down so that you may dot her hairline with a kiss. Momentarily, she stirs. Her fingers twitch by your wrist. The soft connection sends a kind flutter inside your chest.
The moon glows through the window. You think you have never felt love like this.
I Know The End: S4, Chapter One, An Extraordinary Night
(Pairing: Robin Buckley x fem!reader, stranger things rewrite)
Word Count: 6.4k
Series Masterlist
Main Masterlist
(A/N: Welcome back! I know it's been ages since the last post but I have been incredibly busy planning! However I'm back now and I should be writing a lot more consistently :) As always, reblogs and comments are hugely appreciated, I enjoy reading them all! All stranger things content and characters belongs to the Duffer brothers, and I hope you enjoy Chapter One!)
Series warnings: Gruesome imagery- snapped bones, expletives, jealousy, fear of abandonment, era-relevant homophobia, mentions of nausea, mentions of blood, slight angst? One use of Y/N, series-level gore, mentions of nausea and sick, etc. Each set of warnings is individual to the chapter and specified at the beginning.
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21/03/1986
On the twenty-first of March, 1986, three things happened simultaneously that prepared the world for the destruction of Hawkins.
One; You slumped forwards in your car, blasting your stereo as loud as it could go as you waited for Dustin Henderson to finish changing his Latin grade. You found that it helped keep Max's migraines at bay. He thanked Suzie, and made his way to the car. You think back to the tragedy of Starcourt Mall.
Two; Eleven Hopper held her head high and mindlessly fiddled with the replica of Hopper's cabin as she told her friends his story. They're not her friends. Everyone laughed. Will winced, watching on with pity. She didn't believe that Jim Hopper would respect who she's become. A nobody. Someone that is frequently walked all over. Someone unlovable. She thinks back to the tragedy of Starcourt Mall.
Three; Dr. Martin Brenner woke from his slumber. He dressed himself for the morning, he shaved, he timed himself on the daily crossword staring back at him from his newspaper. A simple life, now. He often found himself dreaming of what has become of his daughter. He thinks back to the tragedy of Starcourt Mall. He finds himself wondering (on more than occasion) where it all went wrong.
These three events, though entirely unconnected and almost entirely unimportant, coincide and are unintentionally the basis of which Henry Creel targets in order to make his move. He knew that he needed you gone. All of you. He often wondered who he'd pick off first. Alone, a separate entity, Henry Creel thinks back to the murder at Hawkins Lab. The total devastation left in his wake, the peeling skin from the side of his face, the girl who remained. He decided he'll leave her to last.
It took a while, but Martin Brenner finds himself on his own again. He had waited, strived for his own separation and prosperity; a success beside the Lab. He had witnessed the early life of exactly eighteen children, raising them like a lamb to slaughter. Leading them to the knife, soothing them with the hand that feeds them. Waiting for them to bite. To snap.
He supposed he shouldn't have been as surprised when one of them finally did. He stalked the halls of the lab, a small boy's hand clasped neatly around the man's finger, following in his footsteps. Brenner led him to a small room, encouraged him to sit, to be at peace with himself, fastening a device to his head and poking around inside his skull. He'd made significant progress with the boy, results finally spiking after the extent of his abilities overwhelmed him the month prior. He'd recently developed the ability to see far beyond what he was given, a mirage of images flashing before his very eyes. Able to perceive the universe in ways no-one thought possible, to know when a pin is dropped on the other side of the building.
Though he knew that he pushed the boy too far, sometimes. He knew that when the boy started shaking, machine ticking over at an unimaginable speed, measuring the pace of his brain, he'd gone too far. Made him see too much.
The boy winced, skull whining as an all-consuming ache washed over him, watching crimson trickling down the walls of the room across the hall. Separated by nothing but a thin sheet of plaster, the boy clutched the table harder, grimacing as Brenner's gaze grew in intensity. He hadn't noticed the state of the boy yet.
"Something's wrong." The boy murmured, tears gathering at his waterline, threatening with every spare moment to spill over, streaming mercilessly against his cheeks.
"If you've lost the visual, just let it go." Brenner muttered, irritation seeping into his words, coating them with a sweet bitterness that only Martin Brenner could master. He continued scribbling incoherent words against his notepad, scratching of the pen echoing around the otherwise empty room. The boy shook his head.
"They're screaming."
Brenner froze.
"Why are they screaming?" He pushed, brows furrowing as he grilled the young boy. He didn't want to know the answer, and somehow found one word reverberating inside his mind. Bouncing off the corners of his head, a large red blazing sign that he'd ignored long enough.
Blood dripped from the boy's nose as he began to shake, hands vibrating against the cold of the table. Steel against skin, providing the boy a relief from the overwhelming numbness that had begun to consume him.
"Ten?" Brenner questioned, growing more concerned with every passing second, notepad long abandoned.
They were quickly interrupted, a mechanic screech blaring from the speakers, lights flashing red as Brenner dashed to the side of the room. He crouched, holding his finger to a dark grey box, pressing down until a static echo was heard from another building.
"Peter? Alec? What's going on out there?"
"Sir, we've got a situation."
Brenner's heart sunk to his stomach, writhing in a pit of guilt as he fumbled to the room with a painted rainbow stained across a wall, coming face-to-face with a little girl. Outstretched hand, red trail beneath her nose. Shattered glass, broken bodies surrounding her.
Brenner took a breath, and then another, and Brenner screamed.
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Meanwhile, entirely unaware of anything out of the ordinary, Robin Buckley sat beside Steve Harrington on the drive to Hawkins High.
She'd scrambled to pick up her clothes from your floor the night prior, and had seemed rather flushed by the time Steve was due to pick her up this morning. Neither of you had established anything, but you'd been seeing each other on-and-off for the entirety of the year. Since you'd spent the evening in your living room after the battle of Starcourt, the two of you had become inseparable, neither wanting to address anything more than the lonely nights.
All Steve knew, blissfully ignorant as he was, was that Robin was interested in someone from the school. She hadn't stopped rambling about this gorgeous girl she kept running into, biting her tongue whenever you strayed into Family Video. Steve, of course, felt awful for you. He knew that if you were aware about Buckley's latest obsession, you'd be crushed.
So this continued, and he pursued giving her almost utterly useless advice under the guise of looking out for her. He still felt as though he owed you, and by getting Robin to sabotage whatever she had going on with the girl from band (he guessed, as she had mentioned the mystery girl's appearance at one of her shows), this was his own way of making it up to you. Not that he'd ever show you he cared for you, of course.
He did.
"Then there's Heidi tomorrow night, but the problem with Heidi is that she's going out of state for college. So it's like; do I really want to start another relationship that has no point other than sex?" He rambled, fingers tapping incessantly against the wheel. His issues were genuine, heart faltering and head seriously lacking when it came to any romance; a certain Wheeler still had him wrapped around her finger, entirely unaware.
"I mean, I don't know, does that make sense to you?" He questioned, glancing over to watch as Robin fiddled with another bottle of mascara, having left her last one with you. It remained in your bathroom on the side, another trinket of her affection, a way to leave her mark on anyone who wasn't you. Neither of you had spoken about the possibility of seeing other people, so she hoped that if God forbid, you decided to bring anyone else home, the small items she'd begun to leave behind were enough of a hint. Unfortunately, this left her with the issue of missing a large portion of anything she owned at any given moment; so he'd started leaving things with Steve, too.
"Robin, are you listening?" He pushed, irritation growing with every moment she continued ignoring him. She quickly scrambled to find an answer, desperately clutching at straws to avoid having to explain just exactly who she was thinking about.
You.
She was always, always thinking about you.
"Uh, yeah-"
"What did I just say?"
"Something about sex with Linda!" She jumped, parts of the conversation slowly floating back to her as she attempted to push the image of your smile from her mind.
"No! I'm talking about Heidi!" He waved his hands wildly, gestures of a mad man accompanying his every word as he tried to give the girl the benefit of the doubt. He struggled.
"Cut me some slack! Please!"
"Well-"
"Your love life," She started, taking a large breath before continuing, "is one of labyrinthian complexity and it is 7:00 in the morning, and we have to go to this stupid pep rally, and I woke up looking like a corpse!" She grumbled, thoughts flickering to your promise the night before of watching her perform. You'd mumbled it on the cusp of sleep, pulling her closer and closer still, whispering between the spilled sweet nothings.
With every growing day she was convinced that Steve had figured it out, worked out what the two of you almost were. You'd been as careful as you could, sneaking off like you did; but neither one of you wanted to tell anyone. Not yet. Not until you'd figured it out for yourselves.
So, she'd pushed all of the blame onto Vickie. A nice-enough girl from band that she knew for a fact wasn't interested, but rather happy with her current boyfriend of the month. She was friends with you, which was an added bonus, meaning that Robin was free to stare at you in front of Steve as Vickie was usually somewhere close enough to be spotted.
It didn't make her feel any less guilty, though. You didn't know about Steve's suspicion of Vickie, or the (false) advice he'd been giving her that she'd been inadvertently using on you.
"Why did you think ignoring me yesterday was a way to get my attention?" You'd murmured, raking your hands through her hair as she fiddled with one of the buttons on your shirt, a lazy attempt at prying it open. She simply shook her head, chuckling slightly before drawling out Steve's name. You quickly joined her in the laughter, scattering kisses along the course of her neck in-between giggles. How Steve had even considered her supposed interest in the ginger girl, she'd never know. Not when you were right there.
"You're worried about a basketball pep rally? You expect me to believe that?" He chuckled sarcastically, eyes fixated on the road ahead while Robin picked and pulled at the skin on her face.
"Yeah? So?"
"So? We both know what this is about! I'm not buying that bullshit, this is about Vickie!"
"Absolutely not," She interrupted, pulling out a small container of lip gloss and lazily smearing it across her lips. Cherry; this was undoubtedly yours.
"It is! And you know what else I think?"
"I really don't care-"
"You gotta stop pretending to be someone else when you're around her!" He spouted out the best nonsense he could think of, your image not vanishing from his mind. He didn't want to know what would happen if you found out about Robin and Vickie, though he figured he'd have to tell you soon enough. You deserved better than to be led on.
"You just gotta be yourself!" She rolled her eyes, laying her head back against the head rest.
"You're literally quoting me to me. You do realise that, don't you?"
"Well maybe you need to listen to yourself! You ever think about that? I listened to you and now bam! Back in business."
"It's not the same thing, okay?" Edge creeped into her voice, the stress causing her syllables to waver as her hands fumbled with the mascara wand. She wondered if you wanted to keep it a secret for this long. This wasn't what she had wanted but she wanted you, and this would be enough for now, even if it was only in the shadows. Murmured words only when no one else could hear, tangled sheets only on nights you were alone. Phrases whispered on a truly extraordinary night.
"Well-"
She shook her head.
"You ask out a girl and she says no, big deal, nothing happens. Maybe your ego's a little bruised. But I ask out the wrong girl and suddenly I'm the town pariah!" She wished Steve would stop talking about it. The more he mentioned, the more he insisted on Vickie being into her, the worse she felt. She felt as though she was lying to you, keeping you hidden when it was the last thing she wanted; though she didn't want to break your trust by telling Steve. Maybe you didn't want him to know. Maybe you were embarrassed of her, and that's why you couldn't hold her hand when you were around others.
Maybe she did deserve someone like Vickie, and reaching for someone like you was unfathomable, someone so unbelievably out of her league. The person who'd saved her from the clutches of evil Russians and had fought tooth and nail to keep her safe. Maybe you deserved better.
"I'd buy that, except Vickie is definitely not the wrong girl." She felt her stomach sink.
"We just don't know that, do we." She shook her head, praying he'd drop it so she could waltz into the sports hall, see your face and suddenly everything would be fine again. Every worry would vanish, you'd dismiss any and all negative thoughts about the girl. You made her feel loved, in every way you could.
It wasn't a conclusion she'd come to easily, simply something that had happened without even knowing. Before she could blink, she was head over heels watching you flick small paper balls at her from across the sofa at Steve's. She was in love before you had a chance to ramble on about the new campaign your friend had made, she was so far gone before she could stomach it, eyes seeking out your figure in a crowded room. It wasn't something that happened all at once, except something that maybe she'd always known. That she'd spent her entire life waiting for you without even realising. Without even knowing you.
"She returned Fast Times, paused at 53 minutes and 5 seconds. You know who pauses Fast Times at 53 minutes and 5 seconds?" She smiled while Steve winced, knowing that he was undoubtedly helping her win over someone that wasn't you. And she smiled because you'd paused Fast Times at 53 minutes and 5 seconds, shutting it off before moving closer to her one evening, claiming that you couldn't stand being away from her for so long. That you needed her. She liked Fast Times a lot more after that.
"People who like boobies, Robin!" She gagged, glaring at him.
"Ew! Gross-"
"Robin!"
"Don't say boobies!"
"It's not a big deal, okay? I like boobies! You like boobies! Vickie definitely likes boobies!"
She shook her head, trying not to chuckle under her breath as she imagined how she'd recount this conversation to you. Maybe you'd laugh with her, and then maybe she'd tell you about Vickie. Maybe you'd take it well. She hoped so.
Steve pulled the car into his designated spot, relaxing at the sight of the Camaro beside him. Dark blue, 1979, Billy's. When you'd pulled Max from the rubble of Starcourt Mall, the one thing you requested from Dr. Owens was for the car to be pulled from the flames. It was the only thing she had left of him, and you didn't want to leave it to rot. Everyone else had requested money, or freedom, or even just support. Dustin had his new devices to communicate with Suzie, Robin had much more financial stability so she could take you on more dates than you deserved, Will ended up with a new set of paints, but you'd requested for the Camaro to be saved. He'd done it, albeit reluctantly, and you'd told Max. She cried, holding you closer than you thought possible. For the meantime, she was letting you borrow it until she was old enough to drive, and so that was where you spent most of your time. Wherever the Camaro was, you weren't far behind.
Robin clambered out of the car, shouting after a small group of friends from band as Steve watched on proudly, a twinge of guilt in his gut when he thought that Robin was finally going to make her move.
You had to know. You had a right. Though he'd tell you later, in the safety of his home.
People were herded by the masses towards the gym as you practically pushed Dustin out the car, sending him to go and find Mike. You hadn't seen the Wheeler boy since two weeks prior where they'd almost found you smoking with their newest friend in the woods, and even then it had been a close call. All they knew was that you had a friend by the name of Eddie that you'd known for a while, making no correlation between their newest Dungeon Master whatsoever. It did come in handy when they were spilling their guts to you about his newest campaign and you fed back to him about just how much they knew; it was a fun little pass-time whenever you weren't around Robin or Steve.
It had taken you a while to befriend anyone else at the school, so the surprise had come thick and fast when you were hesitantly approached by Chrissy Cunningham, Hawkins High's Head Cheerleader, and asked quietly if you happened to know the school's resident drug dealer. You figured she seemed sincere enough and she provided you with information about her recent headaches and night terrors, meeting up underneath the bleachers in order for her to rant about her week. Robin was well aware of this, even offering a hand in support towards the young girl, but ultimately the questions always came back to Eddie and his business. However, it was nice to see her in her natural element, a smile plastered over her face as her boyfriend raved on about the previous horrors of Hawkins.
"So much loss." Jason rambled, mid-way through his speech and narrowly avoiding glares from you and Steve, accompanied by Max, Mike and Dustin from across the other side of the gym. Jason Carver knew nothing about loss, and was quickly making an attempt to crawl all over your last nerve. Judging by the look on her face, Max felt the same.
"And sometimes I wonder, how much loss can one community take? In dark days like this," You rolled your eyes, meeting Robin's wavering gaze as she shot you a soft smile and a small wave, chuckling and sending back your own, "We need something to believe in. So, last night, when we were down by ten points and a half to The Christian Academy, I looked at my team! And I said, Think of Jack."
You felt your stomach drop, and Max's snarky grin slowly begin to falter.
"Think of Mellissa."
Oh god.
"Think of Heather."
The guilt pooled in your stomach as you thought back to the bubbly girl that you'd failed to save the year prior. You knew who was coming next.
"Think of Billy."
Lucas met Max's eyes as the words resonated around the gym, watching for any flicker of emotion. Her mask didn't fall for a second, only grew stronger as she clenched her fists to her side. She avoided the pitiful looks he wad giving her, glancing down until he was forced to look away.
"Think of our heroic police chief, Jim Hopper." Steve had to elbow you in the side to stop you from shouting, words boiling at the edge of your tongue. Ruthless, cutting, venomous words all ready to fire at Jason Carver.
He didn't understand loss. Not even for a second. He didn't know what it was like, and you prayed he never would.
Not when it felt like this.
"Think of every one of your friends who perished in that fire. What did they die for? For us to lose to some crap school? No!"
The audience echoed back at him, slowly beginning to cheer and rally, leaving you and Steve silent, gritting your teeth.
"For us to return home with our heads hung low in defeat? No! Let's win this game for them! And that's exactly what they did!"
The room erupted into cheers, leaving the small group of you left to suffer in silence. You tried not to think about Starcourt Mall too hard. You still couldn't look at your leg the same, side marred with scars and stitches. You tried not to think about it when the lights flickered, or when you caught the odd melody that happened to sound a little too much like the Indiana flyer. You definitely tried not to think about it when the nightmares woke you.
"....tonight, we're gonna bring home the championship trophy!"
Dustin and Mike froze, running the thoughts over in their head as they mulled over their options. Tonight was wrong, all too wrong, and their happy-go-lucky day was quickly coming to a head.
"Tonight? How is that possible?" Mike scrambled, looking back and forth between Dustin and Max helplessly, quickly interrupted by the redhead.
"They call it a tournament. You win one game and then you go on until there's only one team left." Her eyes caught Lucas, laughing and grinning with his new friends. The sight tugged gently at her heartstrings, and she realised she hadn't recognised the emotion since Billy had pushed her aside to protect her. Pride. She would always, always, be proud of Lucas Sinclair.
Lucas was all over them the second they left the gym. Like white on rice, following them with a sharp jog, throwing his newest Letterman jacket over his shoulders.
"I don't get what the big deal is! Just talk to Eddie, get him to move Hellfire to another night!"
"Just talk to Eddie." Dustin scoffed, eyes rolling as he fixed his gaze on the mass of people in front of him, having lost you, Steve and Robin in the crowd, plus actively avoiding their current Dungeon Master.
"Why don't you just talk to your coach and get him to move the game?" Mike bit back, staring the boy down. He'd felt long since abandoned by Lucas, having left him in the dust the second something newer and shinier showed up. Unaware that it was exactly what he had done to Will, and the reason you had iced him out for the few weeks after. For the first time in a while, Mike Wheeler felt alone.
"I think that's a great idea, Mike."
"Thank you, Dustin." They both nodded sarcastically, quickly interrupted by the Sinclair boy.
"This is the championship game!" He pleaded, turning to face both of them.
"And this is the end of Eddie's campaign! A semester of adventuring, and we need you!" Dustin begged, Mike narrowing his gaze as it fixated on Lucas. He wanted his friend back, and he was willing to dig deep to do it.
"Yeah, and the Tiger's don't. You've been on the bench all year."
"That's not the point, Mike."
Expecting some snide comment from either of the boys, Lucas was swiftly interrupted by you pushing past the group of them, chasing past their little trio with a scrawled sheet in hand, yelling for someone intelligible.
Before they knew it, you'd taken a hold on Robin Buckley's hand, quickly tugging her to the nearest bathroom, locking you both inside one of the stalls.
"Hi." You murmured, grin evident over your face. This was undoubtedly the best part of your day, the time where you'd take some time for just the two of you, no matter what you were.
"Hi." She smiled, a large grin reaching her eyes as she threw her arms around you, met quickly with a chorus of giggles as you hid your face in her neck.
"Good morning?" You murmured into her shoulder, relaxing as her arms found your waist, their rightful resting place.
"The best. You left your lip gloss in my pocket, y'know that?" She rambled, quickly cut off by the feeling of your lips against hers. Raking a hand through her hair, the two of you were briefly interrupted by the sound of a door slamming beside you.
Robin's eyes widened, meeting your gaze as you silently shook your head, holding a finger to your lips. She smirked slightly, digging her hands into your sides to make you jump, chuckling under her breath as you rolled your eyes and swatted her arms away.
Chrissy Cunningham found her way to the mirror, staring at herself whilst pulling at her skin, as if she were a creature she couldn't recognise. As if she'd never seen herself before. A new-born, desperately reaching out for a hand to hold. Anyone's, really.
Robin quickly glanced through the corner of the stall, letting out a sigh of relief as she took in the sight of the blonde cheerleader. Then, she stiffened, realising her mistake.
"Hello?" Chrissy mumbled, knocking quietly on the door, waiting a second until it slowly opened. Where she was met face-to-face with the two of you, guilty-looking grins spread across your faces.
"Hi, Chris." You stared blankly as she shook her head, eyes open in disbelief. She hadn't expected it from you, but somehow, it hadn't exactly come as a shock. If anything, it provided a vigorous and much needed explanation as to why your eyes remained trained on the Buckley girl so much.
"I can't- not right now, I can't- I'm late," She murmured in-between breaths, taking another glance in the mirror before rushing out of the bathroom, hands rattling nervously against her sides. This was not an uncommon occurrence for the cheerleader, given that most of her days now ended in nightmarish visions and pounding headaches. It was as if someone, no, something was trying to rip her apart from the inside out. Trying to peel away anything that remained, leaving only the shell of a person behind.
You tossed a questionable glance towards Robin, one out of concern for the Cunningham girl. You recognised the look on her face. It was one you had seen on your own too many times.
Chrissy Cunningham was haunted, far too much for any person of reasonable coherence, but Chrissy Cunningham was also nothing if not punctual. She refused to be late, even for Hawkins High's resident drug dealer.
The same drug dealer you had coincidentally promised to introduce Robin to the night prior.
Steve Harrington and Eddie Munson had already crossed paths on a multitude of occasions given his repetitive senior years and the number of parties the boy threw, and so they had become reluctant acquaintances when necessary. That didn't mean Steve enjoyed seeing the boy's face. He would much rather spend his time shovelling timeless movies in the back of Family Video with Robin Buckley and scoring a mass of dates (now that his competitive streak had seemingly mad an appearance after the summer), and so he avoided the boy when he could. Eddie Munson was a face from his past, and not an overly friendly one, either.
However, despite's Steve's joyous enthusiasm about the boy, Robin was eager to meet him. You'd convinced her amidst stray kisses and lonely whispers to stay, blindly promising to turn up to her performances over the next few days and at least one introduction to someone. Anyone. She'd practically begged, and you swore that you trusted Eddie Munson with much more than your life. He knew of the girl you'd set your sights on, just no specifics, and you felt that now was a good a time as any for them to get to know each other. He wasn't too close to you, but you frequented with him occasionally in the halls plus your numerous visits over the years, and that was good enough for him.
Unfortunately, his awful time-management skills meant that he needed to cancel on you last minute, something that you had carefully explained to Robin when she'd left your house in a hurry earlier that morning. Without thinking, in the comfort of the bathrooms- her hand reached for yours, playing with your fingers absentmindedly to avoid her continuous rambling. Almost a year since Starcourt, and she still found herself nervous at the sight of you.
She broke the silence first.
"Do you think he'd like me?" Your breath hitched in the back of your throat as the words fell from her lips. Those weren't words for just a hook-up, but she took your reaction as to mean embarrassment, shame, and you couldn't blame her. She immediately began to backtrack, stumbling back over her faux-confidence and second guessing everything between you both.
"Robin!" You interrupted, stopping and forcing her to look at you for a second.
"He'd love you. I have no doubt whatsoever that when he does meet you, he'll love you. You're like- the best person I know, and if anything, you won't like him-"
"I will!" She blurted, looking up at you, smiling slightly. He knew about her; that was a start. She could work with that, even if you didn't want to be seen with her in public yet.
She leaned over to rest her head on your shoulder as you tensed, slipping an arm around her waist to pull her closer. You wanted nothing more than to show her off, but every time you'd mentioned it, she'd seemed hesitant- as if waiting for the other shoe to drop. You didn't want to push her into doing something she didn't want to do, and you would wait as long as it took for her to be comfortable.
"...like him, I mean. I will like him. Just wanted to- like, clear that up for you." She mumbled, met quickly by a brief chuckle as you relaxed. This was just Robin.
Your Robin.
"You got class next?"
"No, we've got rehearsals- you are coming later, aren't you?" She grinned, a wide smile as she looked down at you, expecting the same answer she'd received the night prior. Glossy eyes, a tired smile accompanied by a quick but rather-sweet nod.
" 'Course I am Buckley. Wouldn't miss it. Is Vickie going to be there?"
She froze. Supposedly, in the time it had taken her to move from one class to another to the toilets with you, the whole 'admitting that she'd been using Vickie as a scapegoat and essentially ranting to Steve about how hot she was' thing hadn't come up just yet.
Of course, you had every right to ask about her. She was your friend, after all. Sweet Vickie who'd done no wrong, and Steve, fucking Steve, who just had to meddle with everything. She loves him really, she swears.
However, loving him wouldn't stop how you would feel if you found out about her false emotional attachment to Vickie. Eventually, if she didn't tell you, Steve would. He'd tell you, even by accident, and she wouldn't be able to explain.
"Yeah. Vickie's going to be there. Can I talk to you please?"
Your smile falters slightly, corners of your eyebrows slightly raised as the joy in your eyes deflate. Like large balloons, popped before her. Leaking empty. Overflowing with worry.
"Yeah- is everything alright?" She nods in response, causing some of the paranoia to ease. You feel as though you're allowed to be paranoid, given what horrors you've bot faced in the past. A bad day can amount to a simple feeling of unease right up to a Russian beating and a snapped leg, clean in half.
"I just- about Vickie-" She's interrupted by the bell, ringing playing in around your ears as you pressed a chaste kiss to her cheek, apologising before grabbing your bag and scrambling to class. You promise to hear her out later, and you wish her good luck for the concert; after that, you're gone as quickly as you arrived. As if you were never there at all.
Meanwhile, Steve Harrington stalked the halls of Hawkins High. He'd returned from Family Video after squabbling with a pissy Dustin Henderson about a Hellfire sub, insisting on needing Steve, or Robin, or you, because he swears, if Steve would stop being so lazy and just go and get you all his problems would be sorted- He'd hung up the phone after telling him you were still in class. He had not the time nor patience to deal with them today. So, he wandered back to Hawkins High in order to prepare for the Pep rally that evening, and to safely remove his mind from the clutches of Eddie Munson; the bastard that was stealing his the kids out from under him.
A girl by the name of Brenda, his date for tonight, hung off of his arm, and he didn't appreciate it as much as she thought he did. If it were up to him, truly, he probably wouldn't have a date at all right now. This was rushed, and messy, and far too temporary for his liking.
"Are you listening?" She whined, staring up at him. He didn't have the heart to tell her no. Instead, he nodded quickly as she raced back into her train of thought, his eyes now firmly set on Max. She's pulled away recently, and although they were never too close before, he knew that he needed to protect her. From what, he wasn't entirely sure yet. Something, he's sure. There was never not something.
As shitty as it was, he owed it to Billy to keep her safe. Or the memory of what he left behind, at least. He wants to keep her safe. She stormed out of the school therapist's office, headphones blasting whatever new tape was bringing her comfort this week, and Steve breathed a sigh of relief.
She always seemed happier with music.
He figured he'd start keeping slightly more of an eye out, mind nulled by Brenda's incessant need to talk. Eventually, towards the end of the day, he began pulling her in the direction of the gym as Robin started to panic.
Not only had she left you worrying about something, you were about to spend close to an hour sat next to Steve, miscommunication galore, watching her and Vickie talk to one another for as long as it took.
On one hand, if she pretended like everything was off, Steve would pick up on it and he'd find out about the two of you anyways. Or, she could wait it out, act as normally as humanly possible and risk Steve accidentally ruining everything the two of you had.
She honestly wasn't sure what was worse, but given that you hadn't expressed any intent in wanting to go public or tell anyone about the two of you, she took a risk. An incredibly calculated risk, but a risk nonetheless, and she began to talk to Vickie.
"Don't you find it interesting, that like- they won a championship, like right after you graduated?" The blonde twirled a piece of curled hair around her finger and stared up at Steve with you trailing behind, offering a shy wave to Robin in the stands as she returned one tenfold, smiling widely.
She wasn't quite sure when she'd get to look at you like that again, so she was going to make the most of it.
(Realistically, she knew that you were likely to handle this well, but then again, she wasn't entirely sure where you stood on the 'serious relationship' mark, and she didn't want you to realise that maybe, just maybe, she wasn't worth all this hassle. She just hoped that it hadn't gotten to that point just yet.)
"Yes, Brenda, that's an interesting point. Thanks for bringing that up." Steve grumbled and helped her up another step, looking at you and enacting an overly-exaggerated eyeroll. You had to stifle a laugh, quickly caught by Steve as the two of you began to chuckle.
Robin saw as he leaned over and whispered something in your ear (it was, in fact, a snarky comment about how Brenda had been making similar comments for the remainder of the day, and how oblivious she actually was), quickly turning to Vickie to ease her racing mind. The two chatted playfully, until she mentioned Tammy Thompson and her muppet-esque voice.
(It only made her think back to you and your god-awful wailing impression of Miss Piggy in the Scoops toilets after several hours drugged and tied up; despite the connotations of the memory, you were there, and so she smiled.)
This got a small chuckle out of Vickie, something that she hoped would go unnoticed, but Steve shot her a half-encouraging glance and all of a sudden her stomach was turning. Why couldn't she have said someone else? She figured that Vickie was a safe bet given her reasonably-stable relationship with her boyfriend, but apparently not. She could see the hidden disappointment in Steve's eyes on your behalf, and she wonders how he must feel, having to encourage her chasing after someone else, knowing about your blatant feelings for her. She swore in that moment she would have the conversation the second the set ended, and she would make you understand just how much she wanted you.
It didn't take long for the set to finish after that, Robin's nerves getting the best of her early on, and she found herself rushing to meet your side the second the band had finished packing up. It had taken an hour after the rally had finished before she could even consider leaving, her instructor still rather strict on them, so she could just hope that you were still there.
You were, leaning against the side of the brick wall with Steve long gone, enjoying the pale moonlight against the inky-black of the sky. There weren't many nights where you could see anything clear enough to make out regular shapes, let alone the moon. It was special. Unique. A truly extraordinary night.
As Robin found herself freed from the confinement of the hall, she walked over to you and wrapped her arms around you, grinning wildly as you reciprocated.
"What's this for?"
"Missed you." She muttered.
And as she stared at you beneath the flickering streetlamps, all was right with the world.
Other than the fact that Chrissy Cunningham was now hanging upside down on Eddie Munson's ceiling, jaw hitched open in a permanent wail as she bled from her eyes; limbs sprawled out and snapping with a series of violent cracks.
PLS this is so cute here ya go love!!
a kiss only meant to last a moment, but when your lips meet, you can't pull away from each other AND pulling your lover closer by the waistband
-
The door to Robin’s apartment flies open mere seconds after your first knock, startling you a bit. You let out a laugh, shifting the paper bag in your arms as your girlfriend ushers you in, “You were so quick, Robs.”
“I’m starving,” she replies, hands vying for the bag that contains the dinner you’d picked up on your way over.
You jerk the bag away as you kick your shoes off, pushing your bottom lip out into a pout. Robin gives you a confused look for a moment until you huff, “I don’t even get a kiss? I brought you all this food and I don’t even get a peck on the cheek. Unbelievable.” You let out a giggle as Robin’s jaw drops slightly, and you leave her standing in the entryway as you head to her small kitchen.
You’re not actually mad, and Robin knows that, but she’ll grovel anyway if it’ll make you laugh. She follows you into the kitchen like a lost puppy after a moment, and gives you the most pleading eyes she can muster, “Babe, I’m so sorry. Lemme make it up to you?”
“Hmm…” you pretend to mull it over as you take the last container out of the paper bag and set it on the counter.
Before you can say anything else, though, her hands are slipping around your waist as her face appears over your shoulder. Her voice is soft as she folds her arms across your torso to keep you close, “‘M sorry. Nothing is more important than you. Not even… not even my favorite food.” She punctuates her last sentence with a kiss to the soft skin just below your ear.
Twisting in her arms so your back is against the counter, you raise an eyebrow at her and do a poor job of hiding your smile as you finally reply, “‘Spose you can make it up to me… I’ll take a kiss or two as payment.”
Robin hums, face absolutely lighting up with delight, and leans in until her lips are pressed to your cheek, just missing the corner of your mouth, “One.” She leans in again, lips pecking yours softly. But before she can count the second one and pull away, your fingers slip into the belt loops on her jeans and you tug her forward until her chest is against yours.
One of her hands drops to your waist with a squeeze, the other cradling your jaw gently as she kisses you back, lips fitting together perfectly. The food is momentarily forgotten as the two of you kiss — no matter how hungry she’d been, Robin can’t resist you.
You can’t seem to help the soft noise you let out as she squeezes your hip, but neither of you have a chance of even thinking about taking things further because Steve’s voice interrupts, “What smells so— Jesus Christ can you two just not?”
Warmth fills your cheeks as you quickly break apart from Robin and cover your face with your hands, laughing quietly behind them. Robin scoffs, face screwing up as she turns to her best friend and roommate, “Leave us alone, Steve. You’re no longer welcome to any of the food.”
“In the kitchen of all places?” he asks, ignoring her request, knowing he’ll definitely leave with some of your food.
“Sorry, Steve, I didn’t know you were here,” you interject, “It was Robin’s fault. Won’t happen again.”
Robin gasps, as if you’ve just betrayed her, and gives you the biggest pout you’ve ever seen, “Okay, now you owe me.”
You bump your hip into hers and press a kiss to her cheek with a wink as you go to find a few plates for all of you, “I will later, bub.”
(Pairing: Robin Buckley x fem!reader, Medical Au - Also, skin tone and descriptions of reader are INCREDIBLY vague, so anyone with she/her pronouns can read!)
(A/N: Hi everyone! Welcome to the first chapter of Birds Don't Sing, this took me ages to write. I haven't decided if I like it or not just yet. Hope you enjoy! This particular story is 16+ purely on the basis of the amount of profanity used and the adult topics mentioned. Other than that, Reblogs and comments are hugely appreciated as I love hearing your thoughts and any recommendations for the future! Thank you so much for reading!)
Word Count: 6.5k
Series Masterlist
Main Masterlist
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Hour 1 - 05:00 AM
"Rule one: Don't think."
Your voice rang out against the room, fingernails tapping incessantly over the whiteboard you'd taken out from beneath the Hospital's resident lawyer, Samuel Westley. Not that you had anything against the boy, but he turned into a stuttering, flustered mess anytime anyone in a position of higher authority than him even spoke.
Looking out around the sea of interns that had flooded in, you began to take note of who exactly was paying attention. Those would be ahead, and the first to personally be thrown to the wolves during rounds. Taking your job very seriously was something the other staff prided you on, picking on the interns until they simply couldn't handle it. You stalked the halls like some kind of prideful Saint, preying on the blood of the innocent.
The halls were quiet when you walked them.
Too quiet. Far too quiet. You'd grown to hate it, in fact. Loathe the sudden emptiness of the world, the absence of anyone. It was why you enjoyed the rush; the screaming, the crying, the restless whining of the patients. The beep of the heart monitors. You sometimes wondered if you belonged for the right reasons, taking your hatred for the world out on the new blood. It wasn't always fair, you understood that much, but it was why you were employed. If anyone believed they could do a better job, you held the belief that they were welcome to the position. You certainly didn't want it.
In your opinion, if they couldn't handle it, they shouldn't be there. People's lives were at stake, you wouldn't have some mediocre wannabe Doctor roaming the halls, picking off your patients at will. Your ruthlessness had driven you over the years, watching you rise promotion through promotion. This year, you'd been appointed secondary head of the interns; someone to show them the ropes, help them if they found it difficult.
You were sure that the Chief of Medicine was enjoying fucking with you this year.
"You think," You continued, slamming a book down on the desk beneath you and watching as several pairs of eyes found yours rather quickly, "and you freeze. You freeze, and someone dies. So don't think, unless you have time."
Some of them nodded along, hesitantly fidgeting with the neck of their scrubs or their notebooks, rapidly flipping through pages to show off. Fingers twisted in the strings, sweat coating their forehead in a thin sheen. You didn't care much for show-offs.
"Rule Two: You always, always respect the nurses. I don't care who you think you are or how important you are, if you disrespect any of the nurses without good cause then you'll be out of here so fast it'll make your head spin. They work their asses off, harder than any of you and they deserve to be treated as such. Do I make myself clear?"
They nodded, wallowing in the silence. A few chuckled, some blonde pretty-boys in the back of the room, having already proved your point. Unfortunately, you couldn't send any of them packing on their first day, so they'd have to suck it up for now. Your temper fizzled in the heart of your stomach, rising and poking angrily at the walls of your ribs. They were crawling all over your last nerve.
"Good. Now, our lawyer here has run you through all the technical procedures and what you can and cannot address with your patients, you'd be smart to listen unless you want to end up robbed blind thanks to some minor slip up." You pulled Sam closer, affectionately shoving his shoulder before grabbing a stack of files, accompanied by a bag of black devices.
"These are your pagers; they control your life now. If you want a patient, you need to be the first Doctor in that room, or you've lost them. You move quickly or you don't bother moving at all, here. Your first shift is 36 hours total, you start in 30 minutes. I'll take you all for rounds later and introduce you to our lovely Chief of Medicine, and you can get a feel for the hospital." You waited, leaning forwards to address each and every one of them, cold façade slipping for a moment.
"Your first shift's always the worst. It's long, you have no one, so I advise you make friends very quickly. You need to have each other's back's here, or you'll sink. Good luck." You mumbled, stalking out, followed by the brunette lawyer as he trailed helplessly after you. Robin Buckley found herself in a state of shock and awe, unsure of where this persona of yours had come from and utterly astounded at how much progress you'd made in your time away, left staring at the empty space you'd stood only moments ago.
Robin Buckley was certain of one thing, and one thing only; she was going to kill Steve Harrington.
He was going to be dead by the morning, strangled by her own hands as she made him choke on the jokes he'd made about familiar faces less than two hours prior. He knew exactly what he was doing! He was aware you worked here, having looked at the staff sheets over and over before sending Robin to meet her fellow interns. He knew you'd see her, and he sent her anyways. The knife was fresh in her back, and she felt the creeping temptation to ask him to twist it just that little bit further.
Oh he was so dead.
She presumed you hadn't seen her just yet, eyes glazed over and hazy from the hours you'd spent wandering and treating the patients. You were always good with stress, never once faltering in the years of which you'd fought nightmares beside them. You held strong throughout. Mind settled, pulse racing, and you craved the rush above all else.
She knew; even if she didn't want to admit it, deep down, she knew this was where you'd end up. It was where you belonged. Like a moth to a flame, far too difficult to resist. It had drawn you in the same way it had drawn her, nonetheless.
"Bastard!" She shot up from her seat, mumbling the word over and over as she raced for the door, coming face to face with just the man she was looking for.
"Bastard, bastard! Why the hell would you do that?" She shoved Steve backwards, glare present on her face. It contorted as he chuckled, pushing his charts to the side and straightening his I.D.
"Hello to you too, Buckley."
"Oh don't you Buckley me! You knew she was there, dimwit! You let me see her anyways?" She accused, hurt creeping through and seeping from her eyes. He felt bad, guilt settling in his stomach as the memory of her feelings came to light.
"Figured you might need a reunion at some point. Come on, how could I have told you? You would've turned on your heel and sprinted."
Shit.
He was right, and she knew it. He was agonisingly, tongue-bitingly right, and she could feel the urge to run, even now. To never see you again, leaving the remnants of you in the rubble of Hawkins. Nothing but dust, a distant memory. Nostalgia in thirty years time as your name came to light, a flicker of smile on her lips as she thought about the most important almost in her life.
She'd never forgive herself if she ran, and Steve knew it.
Bastard.
"Who's a bastard?" A young blonde boy found his way to Robin's side, smirk present on his face and rather insistent on finding out why his fellow intern had left their training course so imminently.
"What?"
"Earlier!" He clarified, "You rushed out and kept muttering bastard, you were sat in front of me. Kenny, by the way." He held a hand out and Robin hesitantly shook it, glancing back and forth between her fellow intern and Steve. He'd seemingly made his own way back to the nurse's station, scribbling down a prescription for an elderly man in a wheelchair.
"Robin." She confirmed, nodding her head slightly as another group of interns raced past, hot on the lawyer's heels. It was the same man from earlier, except he'd developed a much more confident attitude regarding the interns, at least. Evidently you'd spoken to him in the meantime. Robin recognised the group instantly, the green scrubs sticking out against the ivory of the hospital walls.
Surgical.
She found almost immediately that both sides of the hospitals were separated by their competitive nature, split up into surgical interns and medical interns. Robin gravitated towards the medical side of things, rambling nature allowing her to think on her feet and remember the most bizarre combinations of conditions you'd ever heard. In fact, she'd come top of her class in med school, acing every paper exam she'd taken. Obviously she had little to no experience to back it up, and often struggled in situations of high pressure.
Sinking, she found. The scenarios were like sinking. Robin always found her head further below water than anyone else; the sounds in the rooms were muffled and a high-pitched ringing made itself known, heavy in her ears when she poked needles through a cadaver's skin.
Meanwhile, the lawyer grumbled, making his way down the corridor, ignoring the entirety of the hoard chasing him, pointing them all of in separate directions to find the Chief of Medicine. Apparently there were rumours of a lawsuit seminar for Neurosurgeons, led by a high-end professor, top of his field. Anyone who was anyone in the hospital was dying to attend, surgical residents included.
"So, who's a bastard?" Kenny pushed, already far-too-invested in Robin's life than she would've preferred. However, it had been you after all to tell her that she needed to get herself out there, make new friends. This was a start.
"The doctor that took us this morning, heard she's a bit pushy." She lied through her teeth, biting down on her lip afterwards, begging he would take this for an answer and keep the ball rolling. Robin simply prayed that you would forgive her for using you as a scapegoat, nothing more than a conversation-starter.
"Oh yeah! She's like, ridiculously strict, but she's the top resident in this place. Everyone wants her to take them on to mentor this year. Apparently she's got close connections with the Chief of Medicine." He rattled on, bringing his voice to a hushed whisper as Steve tossed Robin a concerned glance and then a rather informed smirk; he knew who they were talking about.
Good.
Things hadn't ended amazingly between you and Robin, and although you'd known Steve longer, he was still hesitant to take your side when you'd left and withheld contact for such a while. He didn't like seeing Robin Buckley hurt, so he could handle a bit of gossip every now and again. Plus, it would give him a chance to check up on what you were like now. He'd subtly pulled himself to the side only a few minutes prior to Robin's outburst, using his only break to call Joyce Byers and Hopper to let them know you were there. You'd kept contact with them but refused to tell them where you were, insisting that they would drag you back to Hawkins. They told you they wouldn't, but they both knew they would. They'd drag you back, tearing down every inch of the life you'd built in favour of movie nights and familiar hugs. Kicking and screaming, if they had to.
"Move! God, you're ridiculous!" You yelled, and all three of their eyes widened, leaning against the nearest counter for support. You were nowhere to be seen, a figment of their imagination until they caught sight of your lab coat from across the hall. You were rushing, trailing after a silhouette with ever-thinning black hair, snapping at other residents beside you.
"Am I?" The silhouette turned on his heel, looking down at you as he smirked.
"I hate you. So much." You emphasised, irritation painted over your face as he practically giggled. He was enjoying this, whatever this was, and Robin could feel a familiar emerald envy wash over her in waves as you stared up at him.
"You need to teach them to learn, you know this."
"I don't! Damn it Hicks, I'm the best resident in this place and you know it."
"That's exactly why you're looking after the interns. You don't listen, and you need to learn a little patience. Good day, Doctor."
"Hicks!"
"I believe I said good day." He smirked, turning once more and stalking off down the hall, as you stood there wounded. Frown etched onto your features as if you were prey, curled in on yourself in the midst of the woods.
"Cannot stand him." You muttered to another resident, and Robin stared intently as the man beside you tossed an arm around your shoulders.
"He practically gets off on irritating you, y'should know this by now."
"Oh don't touch me, Kaiser." You grumbled, shoving his arm from yours, watching as he chuckled at your reaction. Robin can tell you're joking with him, because despite the annoyance on your face, you still have that teasing glint in your eye. The blonde man didn't get much time to relish in your irritation, as your pager flashed a dark red, emitting a high-pitched whine, much to your annoyance. It was as if everything else in the hospital had ceased to exist, blocking out anything but the patient as you raced towards the nearest room.
"She's coding! Marissa, crash cart, now!" You yelled at the nearest nurse, momentarily shutting your eyes to calm yourself. It was an unconscious practice, something you'd learned to do after hours of being on-call. You were no help to anyone if you freaked out.
Deep breath in, deep breath out.
It was such an intimate moment that Robin felt she no longer had the privilege to witness. Still, she watched, eyes always trained on you as mindless commands spilled from your lips. Staining them, hopeful drawls trickling out into the room to assure the latest round of interns that everything would be alright. Things didn't seem alright.
You struggled to place an oxygen mask over the elderly woman's face, watching closely as she heaved in and out, seizing against the bed. Hands clutching the sheets, eyes flickering an ivory white. She wasn't as pretty as she was a few minutes ago, but Robin found it fascinating.
It reminded her of Max, the images that Lucas had subconsciously painted for her as he described how empty her eyes were. The greying of her face, blood dribbling from her lips. She didn't ever want to feel that helpless again, and she can tell you didn't either. Not with the way you push and push, grasping at this stranger only inches from death, commanding her back to life. Dragging her from the edge of the universe, tying her to the hospital bed. Her breathing slows, and the heart monitor returns to normal.
A steady beep, an occasional flicker to signify that everything's alright. It seems much more alright, now.
It's awe-inspiring, watching you work, Robin decided. You were right, you don't think. You grasped at instruments as if you knew them, a master of your own craft as you directed the room. You're better at this than the others, and now she understands why Hicks picked youto lead the interns.
Not because you're the obvious choice, or because he wants to be petty; it's because you're the only one who can.
Hour 6 - 11:07 AM
You sauntered out the room with a spring in your step, trailed endlessly by another group of younger doctors, clinging onto your every word as they take in what they can. You're still high from the adrenaline, Robin can tell, although it's something Robin hasn't seen within you in a long time. Not since you'd fought off a hoard of Demodogs to protect Steve Harrington, not since you beat the living hell out of a Russian General for laying a hand on Robin.
It was a good look on you.
You brushed them off without care, tossing a small smirk to Hicks, before spinning on your heel to face the newly-gathered group of interns, Robin included. Your eyes roll past her face with ease, unable to pick her out as she blends in so seamlessly with her navy scrubs and stern gaze. Every one of them hangs off your syllables as if you hung the moon- you're the first doctor they've seen save anyone, and that is enough to impress all. They've counted three patients you've stopped coding and that's just today. A new record.
"Good morning everyone; ever so sorry for the delay, but if you'd split yourselves into two large groups that would be incredibly helpful."
They did as you said, Robin shuffling anxiously to the left, eyes not leaving your figure for a second.
"Everyone on the right will be working with me, everyone on the left will be following Dr. Kaiser here." Robin groans slightly, entirely unimpressed by the notion of having to spend even more time distanced from you and practically disgusted by the look of the Doctor beside you. It's the same resident from moments earlier, the one that slung his arm around your shoulder as if he owned you. The sight of him makes Robin's blood boil, although she knows she has no right. Not after how things ended.
"Amazing. Now we've sorted that, you'll be following us both for rounds. We'll meet Doctor Hicks, our resident Chief of Medicine and then you'll be on your own for the rest of your first shift. Am I clear?"
Everyone nods, and you smile. It's a borderline grimace, and Robin recalls seeing the same expression on your face the day you slapped Jason Carver for insulting you. It's an expression she likes.
"Good. Follow." You order, and you begin the walk. You find yourself rushing through the interaction with the Chief of Medicine, and you seem to hold a particular disdain for the man. Robin's not sure why. Eventually, after that, you address almost every patient on the floor, asking rapid questions and correcting any wrong answers. You're a great teacher, albeit strict. You know how to comfort people, even though it seems like you don't. Even your presence is comforting, especially after all this time.
"...his loss of temperature sensation on his contralateral side is consistent with which syndrome, Ramsey?"
A smaller man to Robin's left shakes slightly, hesitant to answer. He takes a second, and runs a hand through his hair, tugging at the end of the strands. He's stressed, and even Robin knows that this isn't a fantastic first impression.
"Wolf-Parkinson white syndrome?" He murmurs, distrust heavy in his words.
"Well done. Buckley," You start, reading further down you chart, and Robin can tell you don't recognise the name. You don't even wince, unaware of who exactly you're dealing with, "What do I look for in a uremic patient?"
She thinks.
She freezes.
"Uh," She stammers, attempting to avoid your eyes for as long as possible, "I'd be looking for a change in mental status, and then continuing with a cardiac exam to rule out pericarditis, with a large concern for platelet dysfunction."
By the third word you've figured out who she is, eyes not leaving hers as she hesitantly meets your gaze.
"Absolutely right. You're all free to go." You mutter, and she knows she's taken you by surprise. The other interns disperse, and you head directly for the nurses station, Robin following pathetically behind you without asking.
"Marissa, do we have a Nurse Harrington on the register by any chance?" You ask, saccharine sweet smile plastered over your face. It's too sweet. Biting, even.
She nods, gesturing over to the man wheeling an elderly man across the ward, and you recognise him in an instant. Robin knows she's been caught.
Bastards, you think.
You smile even sweeter, thanking the nurse gently before heading to the nearest supply closet, tugging the girl in behind you by the wrist. The light flickers on and you lock the door, staring her down.
"The hell are you two doing here?" You choke out, unable to comprehend how you feel.
They shouldn't be here. They shouldn't.
There's no rule against it, of course, but it is throwing you off your game. The other residents have heard stories about the infamous Robin Buckley and how exactly she affected you throughout her time in Hawkins high (and after, but you didn't want them to be party to your fights with inter-dimensional monsters just yet), and whilst her being here brings back such a phenomenal euphoria that you find you've missed, it's not something you can afford to be distracted by just yet.
She takes your words as gospel, remorse crashing over her in waves as she hears the snarl in your tone. She knows where she is unwanted, and you have made yourself more than clear. She goes to turn the handle and you stop her, keeping her wrist tight against one of the shelving units, and you realise how you must have come across. It's been a long day, you reason.
"No! No- I'm sorry. God, I just- what are you doing here?" The regret is heavy in your words, and you step back for a moment. Your hand stays firm in hers, wrist against wrist. You don't want to let her go just yet. Your tone stays cold for the most part, but she can hear the cracks of affection seeping through. She knows how much she means to you. Even now. Especially now.
You hope she does, at least.
"Just something that I liked, I guess-" She mumbles; it's a pathetic reason, she knows. She likes the closeness, the relaxation of your voice. She's missed it.
It's a change from the bitter façade you present to the other interns, and it makes the girl feel special. She relishes the feeling of your hand against hers, and is pleased to find that it's oddly similar to the flickering images that dance across her mind as she falls asleep. Your hand in hers, her body beside yours, wrapped around each other beneath the tangled sheets.
It's a fulfilling feeling.
You sit there for a minute. Maybe an hour. You're not entirely sure, anyway. It's not like it would matter- you just sit and enjoy Robin Buckley in her entirety. Like a fine piece of artwork. Polished, refined; she is to be taken in with grace, the full experience.
"You know this means I can't show prejudice, right?" You grumble, hating to admit that for once you cannot use your authority to bribe your superiors into something. She must abide by the rules, and so must you.
"Yeah. Figured- Steve's here, too. Missed you when you left."
The room's aura turns in a minute. Comfort to a bubbling rot, flowers wilting in the dark. It's empty. It's violent, now. She knows she's made the wrong choice, bringing up your abandonment.
You left for a reason, after all.
"I left because I had to, Buckley." She's Buckley now. Back to the basics, the day when you first met her. Back to trembling besides the other interns. Robin is gone, any love and affection that crept into your voice disintegrated in a second.
You're building your walls back up, brick by brick. You regret letting her in at all. She can see it, just behind your eyes; swirling pits of warmth turned cold in a moment.
"You should go. You're on call, you'll get tired soon. Nurses will need you. Harrington will need you." You spit out his name, almost as if he has done you wrong. Perhaps he has- just by staying, Robin supposes. You missed him, for certain, but there was no time to miss anyone here. You remember why you left now. You'd let the world run away with you for a second, and it was coming back to bite you. Hard.
This feels an awful lot like a rejection, Robin decides.
She stays silent.
"Have you told anyone I'm here?" You asked, gaze growing in curiosity by the second. You wonder if she's told Nancy Wheeler. Joyce Byers. Vickie.
You know you have no right to feel your stomach turn at her name, as it was Robin's choice. Nothing to do with you anymore. You'd left, and that was on you. You know that. You can't afford to get swept up in Robin Buckley. You can't.
Not after last time.
"No." She murmurs. It's not a lie. Not a direct one; she, per say, didn't tell anyone, but she knows for a fact that Steve did. She remembers how close you were with Hopper, she imagines he was the first to know. He was the first person you'd run to after it was revealed that he was alive, brought back from Russia by Joyce Byers and Murray Bauman. A rather nice change in scenery from the torture he'd faced. He was glad to be home.
"Right. You should get back to work Buckley, it's gonna be a long night." The nickname is scathing, and this time, it's meant to be. You leave, letting the closet door slam on your way out as you adjust your hair, shoving down your feelings into a dark, unreachable place inside you. Folded messily into a pile, stuffed behind thoughts of childhood and left abandoned besides the remnants of Hawkins. Where all those feelings belong.
She hesitates before she follows, overly aware of the implications. She's flustered, her scrubs are messy from all the rushing around that morning, and she's trailing after a resident. She's all too familiar of the routine from med school, the stress getting far too high, far too often.
"Hey! Patient here, he's hemodynamically stable. Consider him officially turfed to Medicine." Another nurse, you'd called her Marissa, stood in front of her and quickly shoved a bundle of files into her arms, presumably sent from a surgical authority. Now, Robin had two choices.
1) Admit that she knew absolutely nothing about where these files were or what to do with said patient, when she finally figured out who he was and where he was.
Or,
2) Go to someone superior for help. Robin knew she couldn't go to you, especially not after that little scene; you'd made it clear you wanted her to keep her distance (whether or not she would stick to that was another matter,) which left you with her supervisor. Kaiser.
She really, really didn't want to go to Kaiser, but she also knew she didn't have much of a choice.
Hour 16 - 21:00 PM
This was exactly how she found herself tailing him for the rest of the night, watching him work and throwing him careless compliments to get him on her good side before asking a favour. She'd spent the rest of the day doing mindless tasks for nurses and other residents, finding that some were nicer than others. However, she couldn't shift her mind from the case she'd been given hours earlier. It was a heavy file, and she was yet to work out whatever was wrong with the man, wherever he was. As far as she knew, he'd been moved to a bed, I.V placed by another intern and left abandoned without a diagnosis.
"Uh, Dr. Kaiser?" She questioned, voice wavering slightly as he turned to face her with a smirk.
"Ah. You're one of the interns from my group, aren't you? Buckley, is it?"
"Yes, that's uh- that's me. I was just wondering if you could take a look at this file for me and help me out with this diagnosis?"
"Your first diagnosis! God, they grow up so fast," He chuckled, holding an expectant hand out to take the case. He was cocky. Smart. Charismatic, to Robin's dismay. He had you written all over him.
"He's been complaining about fatigue, loss of breath, sweating, chest pains-"
"So what should we do?" He interrupted, turning on his heel to face her and handing her back the file.
"What?"
"You heard me; what should we do? You know the symptoms, you'd be able to solve this in a second if you weren't under pressure. Do whatever you need to, tell yourself it's not real, whatever, but how would you handle this if you were back in med school?"
"I'd send for an echocardiogram." She responds without hesitation. It's from memory, she's faced this case before. Middle-aged-man, showing signs of restlessness and heavy chest pain with no signs of heart disease. Arrythmia.
He smiles. She fights off a grimace.
He's nice, too, apparently. A good teacher. She's not surprised you've ended up here, not surprised you're working with him. You can be nice, and you're a hell of a good teacher.
"Then you'll have your echocardiogram, Buckley. Have a minute, you'll be on break soon. Go be social; make some friends! God knows I needed some when I was doing this last year." He chuckled, handing back the files before returning to work, calling over a nurse and ordering the echocardiogram for the man on her behalf.
Robin abandons everything in an instant, already entirely willing to crash. She needs sleep; she's on her last legs, having been unable to sleep the night before her first shift. The added stress of seeing you again is pushing her closer and closer to the edge. If she doesn't find somewhere to sleep soon, she'll find herself collapsing on top of a patient.
Or worse, collapsing on top of you. Sleep-drunkenly stumbling into your arms, mumbling about just how much she's missed you, despite everything. Tell you about all the nights she spent alone, just wishing you were there. Sobbing into Steve's arms, entirely unaware of how many you spent crying into Jeffrey Kaiser's. Maybe she'd feel better if she knew. Or worse, you couldn't decide.
So Robin Buckley does what Robin Buckley does best; she finds a spare bed in the on-call room, willing away the nightmares (and the rather intrusive thoughts of you). It's a routine she's come to know well.
Hour 18 - 23:36 PM
She wakes properly now, having been roused a few times to check over patients, place a few foley catheters, change a few IV's- everything that she could practically do in her sleep. Which she does, wandering around in an almost-state of consciousness, mumbling a few incoherent sentences every now and again.
Although instead of a rogue nurse, (Or Steve, who had insisted on making a few visits to relentlessly mock the girl, and give her food and water to make sure that she is, in fact, taking care of herself, though he'd never admit it) this time she was woken by the piercing sound of her pager. Screaming against the side, it echoed around the room, pulling her from her slumber.
She bolted up, scrambling to her feet and out the door, barely scrabbling with her pager in hand, clipping it to her scrubs in order to make herself look professional. Or presentable, at least.
"Listen up people!" All of a sudden, Robin was wide awake. Hearing your voice against the sea of interns beside her was like dunking a bucket of ice cold water above her, leaving her shivering in the cold of the ward. If she felt even slightly disoriented, it was gone now. You had her full attention. You always did.
"This is your first moonlight shift. I'm not gonna tell you that it's going to be fun, or easy. It's not. You're going to lose people, you're going to be running on less than a few hours sleep. You'll work for the nurses and the higher-ups, you will do as they say. Am I clear?"
A choruses of yes ring out around the room, and you give the group of interns a quick nod. It feels almost like a congratulations. They've made it this far, at least.
"You want to be doctors? Make it through tonight and you'll be well on your way."
They do as you say. Scattering like mice, running after doctors as if they owe them something. Medicine is brutal, you know that much. It's dog-eat-dog, as much as you try to deny it. You don't worry too much for Robin Buckley; she's done worse, and she'll learn. Quickly.
She'll slither her way into the gaps and crevices that others ignore, charming her way into patient's lives. She's braver than you want to admit. You don't worry for her, not one bit.
You train your own, leading them around the hospital, biding your time until you're allowed to leave. To walk free of the building that has demanded so much of you. Driving home to your own place, the empty house that holds no familial memories. Not anymore.
You'll do what you do every night. Stare at old pictures of yourself, wondering if you can recognise the person staring back at you in the mirror. You'll drink, maybe watch a film if you're up to it, and you'll sleep, trying to keep the thoughts of Robin Buckley astray. You wonder if it'll be different now she's around. You doubt it.
Hour 25 - 06:00AM
You've slept for the night. You return in the morning, awfully chipper, wearing a brave new face for the struggles that the day demands. You have to schedule five echocardiograms, treat Mr. Berkley for his Scoliosis and then deal with any train-wreck codes that might occur. At least.
That, and you have to deal with a group of struggling interns that can barely place central lines and ever so often run into your almost-ex-girlfriend. You're sure that someone out there in the universe is having a great time enjoying your misfortune.
Suddenly, your wrist is grabbed and you're swung onto the nearest sofa in the waiting room, a man in a familiar nurses uniform sitting by your side.
"You have so much explaining to do." Steve Harrington, in the flesh. His voice is richer, gravelly with the residue of his last cigarettes, and there's a tinge of anger beneath his words. You don't blame him. It's red-hot, burning the way through his mouth, spilling from his lips as he glares at you. You know he doesn't mean it, the mischievous look in his eye giving away his intentions from the start.
"Hi to you too, Harrington."
"Why didn't you tell us?"
"You know why. I kept contact and I came back every few months."
"Did you not want us in your new life or something?" You vow to never again make a mistake like this, as you quickly learn that Steve Harrington looks like a kicked puppy when he's hurt. He brushes the words off as if they mean nothing, but you can tell that a hint of insecurity creeps into his tone. He's scared. Scared that the words are real.
"It wasn't that. I just- I just couldn't, alright? It was a lot of things."
He hesitated, before nodding slowly, pulling you into a tight embrace. He'd grill you on your excuse another day.
"Missed you." He mumbles into your shoulder, clutching you closer. You were his saving grace after Nancy, the person he'd cry to over the loss of his relationship and the lack of his parent's care. The person he'd cry to after the Russians had beat him bloody, after you'd been attacked by a hoard of Demodogs. You were always there, and then you weren't.
You'd struggle to forgive yourself for that for a very long time.
"Missed you too." You admitted, wrapping your arms around him and pulling him closer before moving to wipe your eyes. Tears flowed freely and you were met with resistance when you told him you were still on call, chuckling and trying to supress all the hurt that had bubbled up over the last few hours. You promised you'd see him around, and you'd have a movie night. Sometime.
You willed yourself to calm, attempting to stop your hands from shaking as you led your group of interns around the ward. You only run into Robin Buckley three times after that.
Hour 29 - 10:04AM
You'd been pulled away from the chaos for a few minutes, dragged into a draining conversation with a blonde surgical consult. You'd gone to med-school with her a year or so ago, leading your classes easily. It hadn't started out your way, but your confidence in her words was slowly increasing by the second. Your long-term patient, Mr. Skinner was headed towards the bottom of the transplant list for a new liver. Until this morning, of course.
"So you're saying he has a slot?"
"Look, there's only a certain amount I can do but I managed to shuffle a few slots around and I can schedule Mr. Harmon in for later this afternoon." You smiled, a genuine smile as you thanked her, rambling over and over about your appreciation.
"I owe you one."
"When don't you?" She chuckles, turning on her heel. Robin watches from a distance, biting her tongue. She's managed to avoid you for this long, what good would another few hours do her? You're infectious. Your laugh, your smile, it's all dazzling and Robin's having a hard time focusing on something else. Anything else.
You looked happier than you did when you were still in Hawkins. When you suffered through Robin's endless hook-ups, the girls that threw themselves at her when she finally showed up to Corroded Coffin's performances, Vickie. The way she'd temporarily disregarded you because she didn't know you were an option. You look healthier, able to take care of yourself. You know who you are now. Somewhere, besides all the hurt, all the pain and the anguish of your leaving, she's proud of you. She's really, truly proud of you, and she hopes you know.
You have to know.
She feels as though this is a second chance. As though all the stars are aligning for this one moment, this one last chance. She wouldn't be here, wouldn't have seen you again if it wasn't right. You seem to be less angry than you were with the world when you left, more at peace. More content. It suits you, Robin thinks.
Steve already knows that Robin will do whatever it takes to win you back, and he also happens to know that you won't hold out forever. Not when it comes to Robin Buckley. One look at those downturned eyes and you're putty in her hands. Steve knows that it'll be alright.
So Robin starts small. A wave when she sees you in the corridor, an odd question over the course of your shift. A cup of coffee when your breaks line up. She holds it out to you expectantly, and at first you're curious.
"Need something, Buckley?"
"They still sell your favourite. Would you want to sit down for a few minutes? I think we've got a lot to talk about." Her voice is soft, gentle, as if she's expecting rejection. She wants to talk, wants to know how you are. She wants to know everything about you, even now. You could never reject her, even if you tried. It takes one glance up at you with tear-filled eyes for you to give in, admitting that yes, you both have a lot to talk about.
So while you find yourselves slumped in the small coffee shop attached to the side of Indiana's Hospital, Jim Hopper checks himself in under a false name and strides across the ward to find you. He manages it in a total of two minutes and thirty seconds, staring the two of you down. There's anger in his eyes. Pure, unbridled rage. It burns hot. It burns red.
"Where the hell have you been?"
---------------------------------------------
Tag List: @onceandfuturequeenofthecats , @shysneeze-recs
Series Warnings: Blood, mentions of medical devices and practices, jealousy, expletives and relevant warnings per scenes & chapters.
---------------
"Rule one: Don't think."
Robin Buckley was never one for the long-lasting lectures. In fact, she hated them. Robin Buckley didn't hate much, but she could make an exception for the drawling tone of voice her lecturers held. Med school had taken anything even remotely interesting about the girl, the stereotypical hopes and dreams of saving the world, and crushed them beneath a large leather boot.
The lectures were the worst of it, she was certain.
Occasionally, when she'd stumble across a scribbled name on her timetable that she didn't recognise, she'd be filled with a temporary sense of glee only to realise that they'd be rattling on about the same nonsense that they'd shoved down her throat for the past several years. She'd lost count of when she'd started the torture, insistent on pushing and pushing whilst Steve cruised through his nursing exam.
Steve Harrington; what a bastard. He'd taken to the job instantly, connecting to the patients on a level that doctors rarely could. He looked after people, it coursed through his veins like blood. Mixing with the adrenaline and the rush of saving lives, Steve Harrington thrived on social interaction.
Now, Robin wasn't saying that nursing was easy. She'd seen her fair share of mishaps, and within the twenty-seven minutes and thirty seconds she'd spent inside Indiana Hospital, she'd understood how easily Steve had slipped into routine. He took absolutely no shit from anyone else, standing his ground under pressure instead of buckling at the knees. Steve Harrington was born for this, Robin had no doubt.
Her? She wasn't as sure. Med school had been easy for the most part, the information washing over and engulfing her like white on rice until she was a walking medical textbook. She knew her stuff, but had no experience whatsoever other than the odd stitches she provided the kids. She spent the prior years blurting out random medical facts to the others, boring Dustin Henderson and his gang of cronies to bits. However, she'd found that it was more than useful when the Upside-Down made an appearance every now and again. Both her and Steve had left the cursed town behind, at least four years of ruthless customer service under her belt before she even considered the medical field.
You on the other hand, Robin never thought she'd see again. The girl who had left Hawkins at the first opportunity, getting the hell out of dodge the second you could. You'd lost enough, the deaths of your friends rattling you to your core. She had no idea where you went, having avoided giving Nancy Wheeler any information about your new life other than the updates on yourself to inform the group that you were, in fact, still alive.
Evidently, you didn't go far. Not when you were stood less than twenty feet away, droning on about the rules of medicine with the staff lawyer by your side, enforcing your points.
You looked better than ever, adorning a white lab coat with fancy blue lettering embroidered onto your top pocket. Your face was stone-cold, showing no signs of pity for the newest interns or remorse for your harsh tone. No, you meant business; if anyone messed up, it could get someone killed, and the board would have your head, not theirs.
You needed them to stay focused.
Robin Buckley was finding that exceedingly challenging by the second, mind drifting back to the afternoons you'd spent walking across the cursed town, talking about nothing and everything all at once. Eyes fixated on her like she was the centre of your universe. The same eyes that she was certain she'd never see again, staring right back at her from across the class.
Robin's first mistake was she thought this was going to be easy.
Then again, when had you ever made anything easy for her?
Summary: Having to spend spring break in a new city as a stranger wasn’t going to be easy, but fate sometimes comes through when you need it the most. Or: It only took you one week to fall for the weirdest girl in Hawkins.
CW: Language. Robin being hard on herself. Period typical homophobia (I’m sorry, but it’s brief in this chapter and I promise it isn’t the main focus of this story) Reader has divorced parents. Reader has an asshole dad. Reader is from New York City.
A/N: This was requested but I wanted to turn it into a series. This story will be 7 parts. Each part will be equivalent to a day so the story will take place over a week! This first part is more like an introduction, but don’t worry, there will definitely be more Robin in the next parts.
Masterlist
🎶Enjoy my 80’s Robin playlist here🎶
Sunday, March 20th 1986 - 10:35 AM
“God, I can’t do this anymore.”
You cross your arms defiantly as you inspect the plethora of moving boxes that cluttered your semi-empty room. You’ve been unpacking for the last two days straight, but it’s like the damn things were never ending. For every box you emptied, two more seemed to have popped up from thin air and you’re certain that you’re no closer to seeing the floor then when you started. Your mom wasn’t fairing much better either. Who knew two women could have so much shit between them?
If you feel like it/have the time, could you do a Robin Buckley x reader (platonic or romantic) where the reader is having really bad anxiety one night and Robin sits with them to calm them down. Maybe plays with their hair or touches their face to ground them.
Thank you for all your lovely work <3
thank you for your request! robin and her anxious gf
"... there's a huge maple tree out there," Robin says, talking to talk, not because she thinks you're listening.
You're trying your very best to listen to her though you know she's not offended by your inattention, head to her chest, ear to her heart. Her pulse patters where yours races, a steadying repetition to your jackhammer.
You curl your fingers in her sweater. "Out where?"
She toys with the very ends of your hair. All you can hear is her heart and her hand as it moves. "My grandma's house."
"Do you see her?"
"Sometimes. Usually for Christmas. Maybe you could come this year."
"Really?" you ask, forgetting for a moment what's wrong.
"You'd have to come as a friend, but… but I would want you there. If you wanted to come."
You slide your hand under her t-shirt and try not to burst into tears, fingertips searching her abdomen for nothing in particular. She has soft, soft skin, and the fine hairs stretching up her navel are like silk under your touch. You traverse until you've found her ribs, the suggestion of them, and squeeze.
"Of course I want to. We'd have to be careful, but…"
"I know," she says.
You sigh. Even now, your girlfriend comforts you through one anxiety and another nips at your heels.
"It's okay," she says lightly, fiddling with the hem of your sleeve. "You're okay," — her voice drops to a whisper as her hand runs down your arm — "it's just you and me here."
"Just you and me," you repeat.
She gives you a minute, your breath coming shallow but not as bad as it had been, and then she asks, "Is there anything else I can do? I- I feel so helpless."
You kiss her chest. Slow, light presses of your lips. "No," you mumble into her skin. "This is good. This is all I need."
Her hands pause their reassurance. "Yeah?"
"Promise."
She wraps her arms around you in a tight hug. "Good. You're all I need, too." Her hand creeps up behind your head, her fingertips kiss your cheek. It's a grounding touch. It calms your racing heart.
Ok so its me again and im currently bombarding you with requests but this is one that has been just COMPLETELY taking over my brain atm.
Robin and reader getting into an argument and making up a few days later! And its just all brainrotting fluff and kissing and ugh ;(
༺ ˖࣪ all i need to hear
pairing. robin buckley x f!reader
content warnings. angst! with a happy ending. long post ahead! light makeout session.
note. sorry again for the late reply :sob: i hope u like it anon, i wrote it as fic than a blurb bc i thought it fit hehe
robin is amazing. the sweetest girlfriend you could ever ask for. she takes care of you, makes you happy, and loves you endlessly. you’re always on her mind, just as she is on yours. but it’s hard being together in this predominantly small-minded town, always having to hide your love for each other. you wish you could show the world how incredible she is, how happy she made you. but maybe in another time, you suppose.
and you miss her. even though you see her everyday at school; fleeting gazes during classes you shared with each other, hiding in the corner of the library on different occasions, meeting in the bathroom to share a few secret kisses when no one’s there. but then after school, she gets busy.
it bothers you, how robin seems to have enough time to hang out with everyone but you. she always meets you at lunch, and by your locker right after the last bell, then leaves for band practice and works right after. it’s nice hearing her voice when she calls at night right after she gets off work, but you can’t help but miss her still. you need to see her, be with her, touch her, hold her, kiss her.
luckily, you’ll be able to do all of that tomorrow on saturday before the sun sets, out in some field far from everybody on a picnic blanket you bought at joyce’s store. you had spent days preparing, making all the food robin likes, and cakes, and sandwiches. you couldn’t wait.
that’s why you walk up to robin when she’s packing her things from her locker, after the last bell when everybody rushes out to leave, to tell her all about your excitement. but she looked tired, stressed even, and you wish you could fix it. she’s busy all the time, and you wonder how well she is doing mentally. she also seemed to be rushing a little faster than she usually does, making you wonder what was going on inside her pretty little head.
“hey, rob,” you smile brightly at her, clutching the strap of your backpack a little tighter as she continues to pack, “no band practice? headed to work?”
“uh, no and yes.” she says rather quickly.
robin sighs and turns to look at you, her lips curving into a feeble smile. you looked pretty today, she wishes she could spare a minute to just stare at you, tell you all about how beautiful you are, but she couldn’t. not with the sound of steve’s horn blaring just past the school doors, when it seemed to get louder after each honk.
“is that steve—“
“yeah, we can’t be late to work or else keith’s making us work the morning shifts on the weekend and steve has plans on the weekends and, you know, i won’t get up early on the weekends, so we really have to go now,” robin rubs your shoulder with her hand and smiles. “but i’ll call you later!”
she mouths an ‘i love you’ and quickly rushes past you before you could say anything back. you turn around, slightly troubled, as you watched robin run through the school doors. you see steve in his car, waving briefly at you with a smile before driving off as soon as robin gets in.
a sigh escapes your mouth as you lean against the lockers, already missing your girlfriend’s presence. it’s fine, though, you tell yourself. she’ll call. and you’ll see her tomorrow. everything’s going to be okay.
at least you hoped it would be.
because, well, she didn’t call. it was almost midnight and robin usually calls you before eleven and she didn’t call. you sigh as you lay in bed, still waiting. maybe she fell asleep the moment she got home, because she does that sometimes. and she’ll tell you about it the morning after. that was probably the case.
you fall asleep waiting, shutting your eyes before the clock strikes one. the next morning you wait for her call again.
your phone never rang.
you hoped for the best, assuming that she was preparing for today, maybe she was already on her way to your house, the thought making you jump up from your bed, running down to the kitchen, packing all of the food into a basket your mom bought for you before running back up to dress up and make yourself all pretty for robin.
you do everything with all possible haste, checking the time and deciding that it was still a little bit early. laying in your bed, hoping you don’t mess up your hair too much, you wait and wait. and it was a lot waiting.
where was she? it was already three in the afternoon and it takes a while to get the field. you want to get there before it gets dark, but you also want enough time before the sun sets so that it wouldn’t be as hot as it was at noon. you pick up your telephone and dial her number. she doesn’t answer. where are you, robin?
you spend the next two hours glancing out the window repeatedly, hoping to see robin riding up on her bicycle, fluffy hair ruffled by the wind, a big jacket hanging loosely on her shoulders. but no one was there.
it had gotten partly dark already and your eyes brimmed with tears, threatening to smudge your eyeliner and the rest of your make up. you hated everything you were feeling; lost and dejected and stood up. you decide to get yourself out of your nice clothes and back into your pajamas, wiping all of your make up off afterwards. and just as you were about to get into bed, you hear a some shuffling past your window, then a multiple taps, pebbles clattering against your windowpane.
there was only one person who would do that. and it’s your girlfriend. you see robin looking up at you with a shameful smile, her bicycle laid flat in your lawn, her hair ruffled, her chest rising and falling rather quickly, panting as if she had just ran a mile as fast as she could.
after basically pleading, motioning you to come down, you mustered up all of your courage, still heated from earlier before running down the stairs of your house. stepping out the door, you tugged on your shirt watching as robin reluctantly walked closer. you could tell she had a lot on her mind, a lot of guilt sitting in her chest.
she opened her mouth to say something, but nothing came out. and you can’t help but bite your lip, eyebrows furrowing in confusion.
“why didn’t you call?”
robin flinched slightly at the tone of your voice. it was quiet. faint. like you’ve been crying. and she already knew that after seeing the way your eyes puffed up, nose a little red and stuffy.
“last night. i-it was really, really busy, i don’t know why. it was like the the whole town was in to have movie night or something and i-i got home and i just passed out the second i stepped into my room. i was tired, a-and i meant to call, but i fell asleep first! (y/n), i was just—“
“and this morning?”
robin answered truthfully, fingers playing anxiously with the hem of her denim jacket, “i-i was at work this morning. keith ended up giving us the morning shift anyway and i- i was rushing again earlier, didn’t have the time to call because steve was already in the driveway so—“
“you could’ve called me while you were at work, robin. it only takes a second.”
“i know! i know. i should’ve. (y/n), i’m so sorry i didn’t—“
“then, why didn’t you?” you say slowly, folding your arms and tears threatening to stain your cheeks once again as you watch robin fidget in distress. “you… you forgot, didn’t you?”
robin’s shoulders slump, eyes falling to stare at the cold ground. she didn’t mean to. she remembered before, but she had gotten so busy with work, practice, and everything else, stressing her out daily. her heart breaks as she watches the look on your face. she wants to take it all away from you; to hold you, to make you smile.
“i feel like you never have time for me anymore, robin. we haven’t done anything together in weeks and the day of the date we planned, you don’t show up. do you know how much i miss you? do you even miss me?”
“yes! of course, i miss you. i miss you everyday—“
“but not enough to remember me?”
robin swears she can hear her heart crack as she opens her mouth to speak, voice straining obscurely, “(y/n), please don’t—“
“just go home, robin.” your voice breaks.
and you don’t say anything else. instead, robin watches you rub your face hurriedly, wiping the tears that you didn’t even give the chance to roll down your skin. she watches as you step away from her, flinching softly at the sound of you slamming the front door. and she stands there for a while, just staring up at your window, hoping you would come to watch her leave like you always do.
but you don’t.
so she bikes all the way home, cries all the way home, misses you all the way home. she wants to go back, to see you again, to tell you how much she loves you. and she calls tonight, but you don’t answer. and she calls again, but you don’t answer.
it’s been happening for three days now; you avoid her during class, you pack your things and leave early after school, you don’t pick up the phone. she wonders what it’ll take for you to notice her, to talk to her. she missed you. she’s been missing you. she wants to hear your voice, wants to feel your skin against hers, wants to kiss you. she misses you so dearly. she loves you so dearly.
on the fourth day, you pick up when she calls you after school. it surprised her when the phone stopped ringing, when she was finally able to hear your voice at the other end of the call, leaving her speechless. in fact, you almost ended it when she went on for so long without saying anything.
“can i come over?” she was hesitant, you could tell by the sound of her voice. it was shaky and she talked slow, almost breathlessly.
you sat on your bed, holding the telephone to your ear for a couple moments, thinking about your decision. you missed her, too. dearly. you wanted her with you. even if you were mad at her. it was one of the many reasons you said yes.
robin bikes over in less than twenty minutes, surprisingly, as it usually takes her a little over thirty minutes to get to your house. she knocks on your door with a rhythmic pattern only you know of and gives you no less than a second to react to the hug she pulled you in for, stumbling a couple of clumsy steps into your house. you breathe her in, still hesitant to hug her back, but you can’t help but give in and wrap your arms around her waist. she smelled of grass and flowers and soon, you figure out why when you pull away from her. she held a flimsy bouquet of flowers that she obviously picked out herself, dirt slightly stuck between her fingernails, petals of yellow and white in her hair, and some of the stems were broken, flowers hanging on for their dear life.
“um, i-it’s for you.” robin, stretches her arm out, handing them to you nervously.
“thank you,” you reply. you could feel her hands shaking, when you take them from her hands. “i’ll go put them in the kitchen. and… it’s just me here, so you don’t have to worry about my family...”
it has her in a daze, seeing you walk away. you were still in the clothes you wore to school, no shoes on, hair down. you look pretty. it’s a thought that often resides in robin’s brain, but you really do. you always do. she mindlessly follows you into the kitchen, watching your every movement. but you did everything to avoid her eyes, and it hurt her.
“are you hungry?”
robin’s eyes widen, your voice pulling her out of her daydream. you placed a tiny mug full of the flowers robin picked out for you onto the kitchen table. she stared at you, unable to formulate the words she wanted to say to you, not knowing if she should answer yes or no, questioning all of her decisions like her life depended on it.
“the cake i made you is still in the fridge. i don’t know if it’s as good as it was before but—“
“yeah! i’m hungry.”
and robin eats it all. not caring if she gets sick from eating too much cake. the only thing that mattered to her was the way you tried to hide your smile when you see some of the icing sitting at the top of her nose, the way you shifted to turn away from her, trying to escape from her.
her hand lands on the leg of the chair you sat in right next to her, dragging it across the tile floor, pulling you closer. she then uses it to lace her fingers between yours, bringing your hand up to her mouth, pressing her lips against your knuckles.
“i love you, (y/n).”
your heart pulsed wildly while she continued to press light kisses on your fingers, repeating the three words again and again against your skin as she watches you bite your lip. your eyes welled up rather quickly; the sound of hear voice, her name in your mouth.
robin wanted to cry at the sight knowing how much she hurt you. and she hated herself for it. she wished she could reverse the time, do everything over, just so that you wouldn’t feel the pain you were feeling. now, all she could do was hold you, if you let her. tell you how much you mean to her. how sorry she was.
“i-i took the week off. steve said he’ll cover for me. and…i know i’m… i’ve been a pretty shit girlfriend lately. i know how much you were looking forward to our date. how hard you worked for it. all for me to just forget about it like the stupid idiot i am. it really sucks, and i am so, so sorry, (y/n).” robin’s voice trembles as she rubs her thumb against the skin your hand. “you didn’t deserve that. not from me, or anyone. especially not from me. i was just—“
robin stopped herself, not wanting to keep building up lame excuses to help her dig a deeper hole for herself.
“i know you were stressed, rob,” you tell her, staring down at your intertwined hands. “you were just tired and—“
“no. it doesn’t matter because what i did was not okay. i shouldn’t have done that in the first place. seriously, (y/n), what kind of person am i to forget that sort of thing? i’m honestly an idiot. a complete, total idiot,” robin scoffs at herself, free hand running through her hair in exasperation.
your can’t help but give her a weak smile, holding her hand tighter. it had been a while since you held hands, or of your favorite things as it is one of hers. her hands are a little rough, calluses at the palm of her hand, most likely from all that biking she does, and light cuts along her fingertips, probably from when she picked out the flowers.
“you are an idiot,” you mumble.
robin smiles, scooting her chair even closer, hands holding yours even tighter. she brings her face close, and for a moment, you thought she was going to kiss you. instead, she rests her forehead against your shoulder, nuzzling lightly into your neck.
you can feel her breath against your skin and you were almost positive she could feel how fast your pulse was beating at the moment.
“i can… i can kiss you now, right?” robin sighs when you don’t answer, pressing the crook of her nose against your neck, desperate to feel your lips after basically a week away from you. “please?”
you stare up at the ceiling and let out a breath. you missed the way robin felt against you, the way her skin felt against yours, and her lips, and her scent, and her hands, and everything else. you missed robin. you just missed robin.
you nod lightly, hoping she could feel it, but your thoughts clear as soon as she presses a gentle kiss to your collarbone, your eyes fluttering shut almost immediately. it trails up alongside your neck, then underneath your jaw, her lips ending up towards the skin behind your ear. all of her kisses leaving you weak, moaning as quietly as you could. robin absolutely melts when you lean your head slightly, giving her more room to do her work, as she places her free hand underneath your sweater, rubbing at the skin of your waist.
“robbie,” you moan as robin hums into your skin as a reply.
“hmm…”
after long moments of sloppy but delicate kisses, her lips finally lands against your mouth, soft and plump. truthfully, robin’s heart hammers in her chest, butterflies invading the depths of her stomach. when she kisses you… it feels amazing. they’re delicate and caring, always leaving you wanting more.
robin carefully pulls you closer until you’re seated directly in her lap, hands palming at your thighs as yours dig into her shoulders, squeezing tightly. she takes her time, teasing you with her tongue, pulling away briefly to speak against your lips
“i love you,” she pecks your lips, pulling away to say it again. “i love you.”
and she does it again. and again. and again. and again. and again. until you say it back.
“i love you, robin.”
and she wants to cry. so she does. her hands leave your thighs and wraps her arms around your waist, hugging you as tight as she could, shoving her face against your chest, forehead resting on your shoulder. she whimpers when she feels your hands run through her hair, soothing her, comforting her with your soft hands.
you feel robin’s kisses along your neck once again, making you tug her hair lightly, silently warning her to not leave any marks. but she never listens anyway. she kisses your lips again and again as you smile against her, giving her the chance to open her mouth while your copy her movements, until your tongues touch, leaving you moaning at the contact. your tongues slide slowly while you kiss, wet and sloppy. she hums at your reaction, your moans, god, she could do this all day. it’s fucking amazing how good this all feels, how right it feels.
you place a last kiss to her lips, making her pout slightly when you pull away from her, still seated on her lap.
“i’m still mad at you,” you tell her, all the while running your fingertips against her scalp, playing with her hair in a way that made her stomach flutter.
“i know, baby. i’ll make it up to you. i’ll make it up to you, i promise.”
my little gay heart would love a "I think... I'm in love with (Name)" || "Congrats on being the last one to find out" with robin
you and @demxters both seemed to be interested in this so here you both go ladies :)
warnings: not proofread
❀ masterlist ❀
"we should start one of those 'you rule, you suck' boards for you, but instead of for girls, it's just for encounters with y/n," steve teased, reminiscing on their ice-cream scooping days before everything that happened with the russians and the mall. now, steve and robin donned heinous vests and worked at the video store.
robin groaned and let her head fall to the counter with a loud thud.
"you okay?" steve checked. the girl was dramatic as she was being right now, but that had to hurt.
"no." robin turned to steve. "i don't know how to act around y/n and i don't know why and now, i have a headache because i'm an idiot."
"i have a headache because you're an idiot." robin frowned at steve's words while his eyes flitted behind her before he let out a disbelieving chuckle. "speak of the devil."
robin froze while steve's smile grew. he left to 'put away some returns' so that he could be close enough to hear but far enough to not be seen. he watched as you entered the store and took note of how your smile grew when you laid eyes on a nervous robin.
"hi robin." you couldn't sound more excited to see her. she was one of your favorite people in the world.
"h-hey, welcome to family video," she stuttered out her greeting that she has said probably a thousand times. your giggle eased her nerves a little though.
"thank you," you returned while leaning against the counter, "has gremlins been checked back in yet? aaron and i have been dying to watch it."
oh yeah, aaron. you always raved about aaron, about how cute he was, how funny he was, how sweet he was. everything about him you loved. just from the movies you guys picked, robin felt he was little more on the immature side, but she wasn't going to say anything about it.
"uh, yeah, i think steve is putting it back up right now," robin shared, disappointment barely detectable in her tone.
"is it a good movie for six-year-olds?" you inquired. you didn't want it to be too scary for him.
robin's brows furrowed. "uh, yeah, i think so. who else is watching with you?"
"aaron." it was your turn to be confused.
"aaron is six?" things were starting to click into place for robin.
"he'll be seven in february."
robin had never felt such relief. "oh, cool."
steve placed the gremlins tape on the counter as he walked by, shot a wink in robin's direction out of your view, and moved to the other side of the store to put up the rest of the returns he held.
"did you not know aaron was my little brother this whole time?" you inquired when robin finished up renting out the movie to you. you'd be lying if you said you didn't notice how her mood shifted when you brought up aaron. you noticed everything about her. robin buckley fascinated you. you adored her. there was probably nothing she could do that you wouldn't notice.
"no, i-i thought he was like a really good friend or something." you knew what she was thinking.
"something like a boyfriend?" you teased. her eyes widened and you knew she was about to blabber so you leaned in closer to whisper to her. "just between you and me, i'm more into girls."
then, you grabbed the movie, thanked her, and left.
"so how'd that go?" steve asked after rushing over to see robin's blank stare.
her eyes moved to steve's and she admitted, "i think i'm in love with y/n."
steve chuckled. "congrats on being the last one to find out."
remember to support writers & reblog :)
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hii! could u do a blurb about robin taking care of sick!reader please,, just tooth rotting fluff!:)
you’re here, that’s the thing!
p. robin buckley x sick!reader
content warnings. none, just fluff! it’s kind of a short blurb + fic lol. not proofread bc i’m lazy :]
calling robin in the morning to tell her that you couldn’t go hang out with her because you weren’t feeling the best was dreadful. it hurt hearing the disappointment in her voice over the telephone, knowing she was looking forward to being with you. like she always does. your parents were no help either, leaving early for work and telling you to stay home so you could get better. but the moment you started drifting, eyelids heavy as you laid in your bed, you hear rhythmic taps against your windowpane. when you open your eyes you can see robin and her cute face smiling brightly through the window, holding multiple vhs cassettes in her hands, motioning you to open up.
and it’s cute, the way her hair was all messed up from the wind, the way a leaf was sticking out from her collar, the way she was sweating on her forehead probably from riding her bicycle as fast as she could:( and when she climbs into your bedroom and places her backpack on the floor, she pulls you close, peppering kisses all over your cheeks and on your nose.
“robin, i’m sick!” you would say, hands pushing against her shoulders. but it’s not like that wasn’t gonna stop her anyway.
“but, i wanna kiss you.” robin’s clingy, especially when she knows that she shouldn’t be — when you’re sick, when you could get her sick, too. but she can’t help herself. she really just wants to be with you. she knows that you probably just want to sleep, in fact, she encourages it. after she’s done kissing you, she immediately urges you to get yourself back in bed. she brings a container full of hot soup she asked her mom to make for her, well, because she can’t cook and pulls your desk chair over by your bed.
she feeds you, all with a smile on her face, encouraging you to feel better. and you do. how could you not? being sick still has you feeling tired, even when robin’s here rambling about her morning, how she had to beg her mother to make her soup, hoping it wouldn’t spill all over her back on the way here, how worried she was about you. it was all worth it though, now that she got to see you. when you finish eating and finally take your medicine, she pulls out her movies, making you pick one out of the dozens she brought, before slotting it into your television. then she’ll lay with you, let you put your head on her chest as her hand plays with your hair, soothing you until you fall asleep. she’ll kiss you on the top of your head and she’ll do the same thing again tomorrow until you get better <3
Summary: You and Robin have been... Something for months now. But you weren't sure where you stood with her. Kisses and cuddles and movie nights were a constant, but what did they all mean? Will Steve's annual Halloween party be the night you finally get your answer?
Content Warning: Brief descriptions of drug and alcohol use.
~~~~~
The house was lit up in orange and purple. A single green light bulb illuminated the front door. You could hear the loud music playing through the expensive stereo system as you opened your car door. Robin stepped out of the passenger seat, swinging her Batman cape dramatically behind her.
"Are you ready to party?" She asked, lowering her voice.
You threw your head back in a laugh as you walked to meet her in front of your car. "Are you gonna talk like that all night?" You asked her as you began to walk up the sidewalk to the front door.
"Yes," she answered in the same low tone. "Because I'm-" she stopped suddenly, pulling her cape up to hide the bottom half of her face. "Batman."
"You're certifiable," you giggled. Robin walked ahead of you, reaching the porch first. She reached one black gloved hand forward and pressed the doorbell. There was a few moments of silence before the heavy wooden door swung open.
"Evening, ladies!" Steve greeted you with a wide smile.
"Good evening, citizen," Robin answered.
"She gonna do this all night?" He asked, his attention turning to you. You didn't answer, simply sighing as you shrugged. Steve closed his eyes, taking a deep breath through his nose and shaking his head. "Fine. Come on in, Batman."
Robin grinned at you before entering behind Steve. You closed the door behind you, trying your best to mentally prepare for having to hear Robin's terrible Batman impression all night. Or, until her voice got tired. Whichever came first, you supposed.
You followed Steve into his kitchen where his girlfriend was leaned against the center island. Steve picked up the stereo remote from the counter, turning down the volume of the music.
"Hey, guys!" His girlfriend greeted loudly. She pulled Robin into a hug first before pulling your shoulders to her chest. "Batman, very nice," she commented. She turned her attention to you, her brows furrowing as she took in your outfit. "I'm sorry, but what is your costume?" She asked you finally.
You sighed, looking to Robin. You twisted your lips as you tried to hide the smile that was threatening to spread over your face. "I'm Robin." You finally answered, gesturing to yourself. You wore Robin's black sweater, a pair of suspenders over it and a pale yellow button up. Her jeans were cuffed to your ankles and a pair of beat up converse completed the look.
Robin dropped the Batman impression as she burst into a fit of laughter beside you. "Get it?" She asked, her nose wrinkling below the black mask that covered her eyes and hair as she clapped her hands in front of her chest. "Batman and Robin!"
Steve rolled his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest. "Absolutely ridiculous," he sighed.
"Oh, come on, it's funny!" Robin cried. "At least we match."
"I was not going to be a pirate," his girlfriend announced. She adjusted the pointed black hat on the crown of her head. "And I wanted to be spooky. It's Halloween!"
Steve wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her hip into his side. He leaned down to kiss her cheek. She smiled wide as she leaned into his lips. "Still a total babe, warts and all," he said, smiling into her cheek.
Robin gagged dramatically beside you. She turned to you, sticking her tongue out, pointing one finger into her mouth. "Keep it in your pants, Steven." She groaned.
A while later Eddie showed up with his date. Their costumes were less inspired than yours, which Robin pointed out immediately.
"Vampires?" She asked, rolling her eyes. "That's literally just your clothes."
"And she's wearing just your clothes, Buckley."
"But it's funny when she does it!"
Eddie rolled his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest. The chains on his jacket sleeve chimed softly as they moved against one another before being quieted by his chest. He twisted his lips in faux annoyance, trying to hide a smile.
"You girls," he started with a sigh. His curls were more wild than normal tonight, bouncing as he shook his head.
His date touched his shoulder, their fingers splaying over the sleeve of his jacket. "Stop whining," they cooed. "She's right. Their costumes are pretty good. I mean, Batman and Robin?" Their smile was soft as they defended you to him. You watched with delight as his scowl softened and a real Eddie Munson smile took its place.
He rolled his eyes once more as he uncrossed his arms, draping one over their shoulders. "Shut up," he sighed. "Our costumes are awesome." The pair shared a look. It was soft, sweet and full of affection.
More people began to trickle into the party slowly. Jonathan and Argyle, accompanied by a few people you didn't recognize. Nancy and some guy she'd met at school, who for some reason agreed to come back to Hawkins for her highschool boyfriend's Halloween party. Even a few of Eddie's Hellfire friends showed up, neither one in costume.
The music was turned up and bottles of alcohol were opened in the kitchen. Plastic caps of all colors littered the countertops as drinks were poured into black and orange cups. Smoke from cigarettes and joints alike clung to the ceilings as they were lit up and passed around to party goers.
Robin held an orange cup in her when she found you. You had been camped out along the wall for most of the party. A few of your friends had come over to you, offering drinks and smokes and conversation before making polite exits with promises of being right back. They didn't come right back, and that was fine. You had fun watching everyone from your little vantage point at the edge of the party.
"Hello, beautiful," Robin croaked in a fading Batman voice. She pushed her cup towards you and you accepted it without comment. The contents of her drink burned as you swallowed. It was most definitely a Nancy Wheeler concoction. 80% booze with a splash of mixer.
"Havin' fun?" She asked in her normal voice, her tone just a bit raspier than normal. You suspected keeping up the Batman impression sporadically over the last two hours was taking its toll.
"'Course I am," you answered with a smile. Robin returned your smile as she leaned against the wall beside you. Her head tilted down to meet your shoulder gently. "Are you?" You asked only loud enough to be heard over the music.
"Oh, yeah" she giggled. "Think I need to slow down on these, though. Getting a little too drink too fast."
"Happens to the best of us," you omitted the 'babe' that you wanted to tack on to the end of the sentence. The beat of silence that the single syllable should have filled hung between you. You wondered if Robin noticed.
Things with you and Robin were good. Great, even. But they were confusing. Muddled and unclear. You'd been… something for a few months now. But you didn't know what.
It started at the end of summer. Right around the time that the August sun was its highest as it hung over Hawkins. When the sweltering heat had drawn almost everyone you knew to this very house and the large in ground pool that sat in the backyard.
Robin's touches would linger just a little longer than absolutely necessary when you asked for her help applying sunblock to your back. Her gaze was a little slower as she raked her blue eyes over your new swimsuit the day you debuted it to your friends. She'd rest her hand a little too high on your exposed thigh when she'd laugh at your, admittedly, not that funny jokes.
The changes were subtle. Slow and easy to ignore if you'd wanted. But you didn't. You played into them. You shimmied your shoulders against her lotion covered palms. Bent just slightly towards her to give your cleavage a better angle while towel drying your legs after a swim. Rested your hand over hers when it would land on your leg, dangerously close to something that could be considered indecent in front of the kids.
The first few weeks were intense. There was no other way to describe it. The first time she'd kissed you was at Steve's house, in the small shed that held the pool supplies. You'd been sent on an errand to retrieve a floating ring for Nancy. Robin followed you, claiming to need one of the spare towels that was stored in the shed. You handed her a towel, but instead of accepting it she'd kissed you. Her lips were hesitant as they pressed to yours, surrounded by floaties and pool chemicals in a shed that smelled like chlorine and summer.
After that night it was like the floodgates of Robin's affections were opened. You'd go on dates every week. Grabbing burgers at a local diner, or holding hands in the dark of a movie theater. The kisses shared in your car or bedroom grew sweeter and more familiar. Robin kept her hands on you as much as possible. Touching the small of your back as she passed behind you. Your arms linked as you walked downtown. Her hands on your waist as she kissed you against your closed door. It was exciting. It was earthmoving. It was perfect.
But it was also confusing. And at times frustrating. The two of you would do all the normal "couple" things. The kisses and the touches and the phone calls that lasted late into the night, neither of you wanting to be the one to hang up. But you weren't a couple. You didn't think so, at least. Neither of you had actually said the word "date" in regards to your weekly outings. Neither of you would put a label on what was happening. At first that was fine. But as the weeks turned to months and the seasons began to change, the unsureness of it all started to pull at you.
But tonight was not the time to have the conversation you knew you would have to have sooner or later. Tonight was about fun. About gathering with your friends and watching them be stupid together as the discount booze clouded their brains. You allowed Robin to pull you to the center of the living room. She placed one hand on your hip, the other dangling over your shoulder as she moved to the music. She kissed you as the song ended. Her hand on your hip pulled you closer to her. She tasted like chapstick and rum.
You stayed in the middle of the dimly lit living room for a few more songs before Robin announced that she needed a drink. "This costume is, like, ungodly warm," she said with a smile. She leaned into you once more. Her hand that had been over your shoulder moved to your neck. Her long fingers wrapped around the neck of your neck as she pulled into another soft kiss before stepping away towards the kitchen.
You took your previous spot on the wall once more. A few moments later you were joined by Arglye dressed as Cheech Marin from Up In Smoke. He snapped his red suspenders against his chest as he walked up to you.
"Heeyyyy," he greeted with a giggle. "Suspender buddies!"
You pulled your own suspenders from beneath your yellow button up. You stretched them in front you a few times before letting them fall gently back into place. "Where's Chong?" You asked, leaning closer to him.
"Who knows, man," he smiled. "Probably trying to get someone to listen to him explain fuckin' Vonnegut or something. Kid gets real existential on this stuff," he finished, lifting the lit joint in his hand.
"Thanks for the warning," you laughed.
He held his hand out to you, offering a hit of the joint. You politely declined, shaking your head and wrinkling your nose. Alcohol was one thing, but you never partook in the drugs. Not that you were a prude or anything, but being high wasn't fun for you. You much preferred to be the sober one watching everyone else get messed up. He accepted your refusal and brought the joint to his own lips before sucking in a long, deep drag. You had to admit that you were almost impressed by his lung capacity. He smiled at you once more before leaving you alone on the wall, a cloud of smoke following him.
You watched the party for a bit longer. It seemed as though Jonathan has been successful in finding someone who would listen to him wax poetic about the genius and intricacies of Vonnegut, sitting beside a guy you didn't recognize on the couch and looking very intent as he spoke. Steve and his girlfriend were being great hosts. They walked around both separately and together, greeting their guests and making sure everyone felt good and was having fun. It was when they walked hand in hand into the kitchen that you realized it had been a while since Robin left you in the living room in favor of getting another drink. You pushed off from your spot on the wall and walked the perimeter of the living room towards the kitchen.
When you got closer you saw Robin standing with Nancy and her boyfriend. He leaned back against the counter, his arms crossed over his chest and a smug half smile on his face. Robin looked annoyed as she spoke to him. Her eyes were wide as she moved her hands between them, slowly taking steps around him.
As you got closer you saw more of the room and its occupants. Robin, Nancy, and her boyfriend were at the sink. You saw that Eddie was standing with Steve and his girlfriend at the kitchen table in the middle of the room. Eddie was pouring vodka into a black plastic cup, smiling at something as you crossed the threshold into the room.
"- jealous that my girlfriend and I have better costumes than you, it's okay to admit." Robin finished whatever she was saying loudly, her back now facing you. Nancy's eyes widened, her glance going quickly between your face and Robin's.
Robin turned to you and you swear you could actually see the color drain from her face. The Batman mask had been ditched long ago so you were able to clearly see her face go ghostly pale when her eyes met yours.
"What?" Steve all but yelled from his spot near the table. "I'm sorry, Rob, girl-" his girlfriend smacked his arm, effectively stopping what was sure to be a word vomit of epic proportions. His eyes were so wide that his brows were completely hidden by his bangs.
"I- I uh-" Robin stammered, her hands waving between your bodies. It suddenly felt like every noise in the house was silent. Every other person dropped away. All you could focus on was Robin's eyes and the way her body was so rigid beneath the black cotton of her costume.
Without thinking you reached forward and took one of her waving hands in yours. She froze at your touch, for the first time since you met her she was completely still. You turned and started walking towards the back door as she trailed behind you. It felt like you were operating on autopilot as you led her through the living room, down a hallway, and out the back door. The air was chilly as an October breeze swept over you.
"Listen, I'm sorry, I-" Robin started stammering again as she pulled the glass door closed behind her. "I don't know why I said that. Please don't be mad at me, it's just you're so cool and you're so pretty and we have a lot of fun together and I just-"
"Girlfriend, huh?" You asked, stopping her rambling as you turned to face her. You tried to hide a smile but you knew that you were failing at it.
Robin's face relaxed as she scanned your expression. She looked away from you, suddenly shy. Her eyes darted around Steve's yard. The trees that lined the perimeter, the large pool in the center. The shed that held pool floaties and chemicals, but most importantly - your first kiss. Her grin curled high on her cheeks, her nose wrinkling as she showed all of her perfect teeth.
"I guess - I mean, I don't know," she answered. She finally looked back at you. Her eyes were so bright beneath the dim yellow of the porch light. "If you wanted to be my girlfriend, I guess I'd let you."
"Oh, you'd let me?" You asked, taking a step closer to her.
"I suppose that I might, maybe, potentially… want to be your girlfriend, too." She took one step closer to you, nearly closing the space between your bodies.
"Maybe? Potentially?" You asked with a smile. Your hands found their usual spot on her hips.
"Definitely," she corrected herself as her arms came to rest on your shoulders. "I definitely want to be your girlfriend."
You pulled her closer to you, completely closing the gap between your bodies. She grinned as her hips met yours. Her arms wrapped around your neck in a hug you hoped you'd never have to leave. This time when she kissed you, it was like a new world was opening up for you. You weren't just kidding your friend Robin. You were kissing your girlfriend. A word you never thought you'd say out loud.
"Then I guess I'm your girlfriend," you whispered when she broke the kiss. Your lips brushed against hers as you spoke.
Suddenly the glass door was sliding open. Eddie, Steve, and Nancy were standing in the doorway. Of course they'd been watching. Eddie howled like a dog, fist pumping in what you could only assume was his attempt at mimicking Arsenio.
"So, are two, like, official now?" Steve asked, stepping through the door. You smiled at Robin as you both nodded. He threw his head back dramatically and put his hands up to the sky. "Fucking finally! I don't know how much longer I could have sat here and listened to Robin whine and moan about not knowing what you were." Robin didn't answer, simply flipping him off before pulling into another perfect kiss.
~~~~~
Feedback is always appreciated! Requests are open! Have a great weekend! 🥰
If you want to be added to my Stranger Things taglist, please let me know! I also have individual tag lists for Steve, Eddie, Robin, Nancy, and Steddie.
Tag List: @manyfandomsfanvergent @paradoxicalconundrum @strvngerrose @redwineanddnicotine
Summary: You’re at your best friend Robin’s house once again to watch a movie together, and this time you feel brave (and sleepy) enough to get a little closer.
Warnings: None
A/N: Please lmk if you want a part two of this it’s just giving me such cosy vibes aahhhhh :D I love Robin so much I am begging to do more character letters from her on etsy if you’re interested in that
You stayed at Robin’s house most days. It was never really a planned thing, you just sort of ended up there. You’d be talking and walking in your own little world together and then you’d realise the destination you both stumbled upon, absentmindedly wandering upstairs to her room together as you did each day before. It was nice for you both, as you each enjoyed each others company more than the average friend should, but you were both worried to admit your feelings aloud. So, these sort of incidental hang outs were convenient, as you could both enjoy spending time with one another without having to brave the proposals and suggestions of arranging things to do together. Things just came naturally with the two of you; you were glued together at the hip and you didn’t even have to try.
— ‘halloween is for children and overgrown children.’
warning: biting (not sexual or aggressive), mentions of sex and period-typical homophobia, the word slur (no actual slurs are used), mentions of adult videos
note: i don't like this but oh well
having a picnic wasn't the most traditional halloween activity, but it was what you what you guys did. the kids fucked around at the bottom of the hill, chucking leaves and pieces of liquorice at each other and getting disapproving looks from other adults when they swore too loudly.
robin was splayed out, one of her legs thrown over steve's lap with your head resting on her stomach. her hand stroked your cheek absent mindedly as she looked up at the sky. all three of you were on your backs on the blanket as you played with steve's fingers.
"fuck, so glad we don't have to work tonight," steve said, flexing his fingers. "we get to celebrate halloween,"
robin laughed, and steve turned so his cheek was pressed against the blanket, looking at you.
"don't you fucken laugh," he said, and that just made you crack up. you sat up, coming to rest your head in steve's lap, robin's leg nudging your head every few seconds.
"sorry, what?" robin said, still giggling. she kept nudging you, hoping to annoy you. "celebrate?"
"yeah," steve said, like it was obvious. "what? you to good for halloween?"
"halloween is for children," robin said. "children and overgrown children."
you finally got fed up with her leg, and turned and sunk your teeth into her calf. "fuck!" robin sat up. "babe." she looked serious, and for a second you worried you'd actually crossed a line.
of course steve knew about your relationship, but that wasn't the problem. you hadn't been together long, and you hadn't gone past making out in your bedroom when your parents were at work. and you had never been this forward in public.
you opened your mouth to apologise when she continued, huffing. "not in front of steve," she moved, first back then fowards, to come and lay her head on your chest. her body was between your legs and she burrowed into you. "not for free anyway."
you and steve both laughed, the three of you all sort of on top of each other, and you suddenly felt insanely grateful for steve. you didn't work with them at scoops, but you had been there when dustin came in with the message. you had been friends with steve since you were kids, and you had been in that bathroom when robin tearfully admitted her crush on tammy thompson. you knew there were guys who would have told everyone, who would have called you both awful names and slurs, or he would have perved, sexualised you and robin - your relationship.
but no, he was there, perfectly content to let robin and you lay on top of him completely platonically. comfortably. freely.
"oh yeah?" all three of you were giggly, the high of all of you having an afternoon off and from the sugar you'd hid from the kids. "how much do you think you're worth?"
"well, family video would charge $5, but since you're our friend you get a $2 douchebag tax, so i'd say you could get like..." robin pretended to think really hard about it. "half hour? thirty minutes of the two of us going at it for seven bucks,"
steve considered it mockingly. "y'know, robs, i would, but... i have watched you lick chocolate sauce off your own shoulder so i think i'm good, there,"
"i love you guys," you blurted out suddenly. your girlfriend kissed the elbow of one of the arms that was holding her.
"we love you too, bug," she said.
"you guys are okay," steve said. "you'd be a lot okay-er if you got off me," he jerked his knee up and you rolled off him and landed on top of robin.
her face was muffled in your chest as she spoke up. "$3 douchebag tax now."
What about angst prompt 13 for Robin Buckley x reader?
Run Away // R.B. x Reader
Summary: Reader accepts her fate and takes off, Robin goes after her.
CW: angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, depression, shame, mentions of death
The starry sky was lit up in a beautiful fashion, in early Spring, 1986. Being with your friends on such a cold night normally was quite comforting, but this time was different. This time, the sky felt devastating, horrifying even, the fear of the unknown written into the black of the night.
You sighed as you peered through the blinds of the window, an endless pit of fear in your chest as your friends chatted, debated amongst themselves about how they were going to defeat another monster from a different world that lie under Hawkins.
"I'll be right back," you turned around to face your friends, walking towards the chair Robin had seated herself in to grab your sweater that lay on the armrest.
"Where are you going?" Robin asked, making the rest of the room go silent, waiting for your response.
"I'm just going to the bathroom, geez," you answered her, slipping your arms through your sweater and zipping it up.
"Why are you putting on a sweater to go to the bathroom?" She questioned you again, studying your face. The rest of the room continued to stay quiet.
"Just cold, Robin. I'll be right back."
"Okay." She accepted your reponse, a slight tone of disbelief in her voice.
Your friends began to chatter amongst themselves again, as you slipped away into the hallway. You put your hand on the bathroom door handle, stopping to glance at Robin again. She was silent, still staring at you.
You huffed and opened the door, shutting it behind you. You slammed your hands on the counter, taking in shaky breaths as you brought your head up to look at yourself in the mirror, the dim, yellow light illuminating your features.
You laughed a bit, sounding half crazed as you looked into your own glossy eyes.
"You're next," you announced to yourself. Your own words sent shivers down your spine.
As if you spoke it into existence, you heard the grandfather clock chime again. That god damn, evil chime.
Your terror-stricken eyes hesitantly looked over to the left, the clock suddenly appearing on the wall next to you as the once yellow light went a shade of cold blue.
Hyperventilating and petrified, you stared at it. You didn't know how long, but it felt like an eternity.
You eventually forced yourself to shut your eyes tight, turning to face the mirror again, hoping, praying, willing the clock to be gone from your sight.
After screwing your eyes shut for some time, you shot them open to look at yourself in the mirror again, the room back to the same color as it was before. You looked to your left again. The clock was gone.
You stared at yourself, watching yourself breathing heavily, tears stinging your eyes, as you repeated to yourself once more, this time fear and realization in your voice.
"You're next."
You threw the door open in a hasty manner, gasping for air as you ran down the hallway and out the front door, tears streaming down your face. You heard the voices of all your friends, asking what's wrong, asking you where you're going, yelling at you to stop running, but you tuned them all out as you sprinted down the street for what felt like miles.
You couldn't let your friends watch you be crumpled into nothing, your limbs snapping, your eyes gouged out, their cries when they realized it was too late.
You weren't going to traumatize them any further.
Once your lungs were unbearably on fire, your legs cramped and threatening to give out on you, you set your sights on a dimly lit alleyway.
Panting out of exhaustion and fear, you walked clumsily towards it, letting your back hit the cold brick wall against it, and sliding down until you sat on the concrete, cradling your legs close to you.
You quietly sobbed as you faced the reality that you were never going to see your family or friends again, the reality that your body would waste away in the Upside Down with the others, the reality that you never told Robin how you feel, the reality that Vecna was coming for you.
Your sobbing came to a halt after a good while, sniffling and staring into the night sky, wondering what could have been. You hugged yourself tighter as an attempt to warm up, your nose and cheeks flushed from the chilly air, and from crying.
Memories ran through your head of your friends and family, Robin being the one that stuck out the most. When you accidentally bumped into her at school, dropping your papers everywhere, her laughing, picking them up and introducing herself. All the times you passed notes to each other in class, making fun of the teachers. When she gave you your first free ice cream cone at Scoops Ahoy. All the sleepovers you had, her resting her head on your shoulder as she fell asleep watching a scary movie, you smiling to yourself at the sweet contact. Her smile, her laugh, her clothes, her different hair styles, everything her.
A sad smile spread across your face as you waited patiently for your fate, reminiscing in all of the good- no- great times you had with everyone, feeling a small sense of gratefulness, despite the inevitable.
You didn't know how much time had passed, lost in thought, when you heard a familiar voice.
"What could you possibly be smiling about?"
Your eyes shot open, Robin standing above you, her arms crossed, an angry look on her face.
"Robin," you began to explain, "you shouldn't be here, please go away-"
"I thought I lost you," she snapped, a crack in her voice as she lowered herself to the ground to face you.
"I don't want you to see me when it happens, please, you should go-"
She pulled you into a tight hug, holding onto you for dear life, clutching the fabric of your sweater.
You sniffled, and hesitated for a moment, before you hugged her back, wetting her shoulder with your tears.
She pulled back from you, anger still written on her face, as you looked at her with sorry eyes.
Robin stared at you for a few moments, not knowing what to do with herself, before she grabbed your face with her hand harshly, squishing your cold cheeks together in frustration.
"Don't ever leave my sight again," she demanded, emphasizing each word.
You stayed quiet, your heart heavy with guilt.
"Did you hear me?" She exclaimed, squeezing your face a little harder.
You nodded quickly, choking back a sob.
She released you, sighing, her breath shaky.
"Good."
You both sat in silence for a moment, staring at the cold, concrete ground.
"Robin?" You whispered.
She glanced back at you, a look of relief and sorrow in her eyes.
"What?"
"I'm sorry."
With a deep exhale, her body began to relax, taking your hands into hers.
"It's okay." She assured you.
She reached a hand into her coat pocket, pulling out a Walkman. You looked at her with confusion.
She held it up to your face, smiling, "This will help you. If you listen to your favorite song, it'll help you."
You gave her a questioning look as she slid the headphones onto your ears.
"How do you know what my favorite song is?" You asked.
Robin looked at you affectionately.
"How could I not?"
She slid a cassette into it, and clicked play.
You both breathlessly laughed as your favorite song began to boom through the headphones.
She took a moment to smooth your hair that had been plastered to your face, then rubbed your cheek with her thumb gingerly.
She took in a deep breath before moving one headphone back from your ear so you could hear her speak. She held the side of your face and pressed her forehead to yours. You felt her breath on your lips.
"I love you," she admitted softly, "I'm sorry, but I had to say it, ya know?"
"I understand, Robin," you replied, your heart threatening to leap out of your chest with joy, "I love you too."
She exhaled a chuckle of relief, ghosting her lips against yours, before you gently kissed each other, softly, yet passionate, as if you'd both been waiting to do it your whole lives, her lips soft and warm against yours.
Robin pulled pack, pulling a walkie-talkie out of her back pocket.
"Better alert the others, let 'em know your safe."
Whether you lived or died, you felt that at least, you'd experienced love.
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