robinswrld

[robinswrld]

someone PLEASE request something, i am DYING over here 😭💞

[robinswrld]

Don’t Go Breaking My Heart, L. Sinclair.

# summary: when a snarky red-head comes along, you begin to reflect on your past with the party and a certain sinclair in a sequence of events before, during, and after the appearance of max mayfield. # pairings: lucas sinclair x fem!reader. # warnings: cussing, bittersweet/sad ending, angst angst, unrequited love, the ‘80s, lucas kinda leads the reader on :/ # word count: 2.1k

💭cara’s thoughts: okay first, sorry for kinda totally dropping off the earth! i wrote this like two months ago but i never finished it. but now it is! anyways, some parts are significantly shorter than others! that’s what i’d like to call cara losing her motivation $$ i don’t know why i keep putting myself through writing angst. it kills me but idc!! enjoy <3

FEBRUARY 13, 1982. SOMEWHERE IN HAWKINS, INDIANA.

it was probably around seven in the morning when your house’s landline began the shrill shrieking that woke you from your sleep. lucas had deemed the day, the coldest of the year so far, perfectly suitable for broke person’s ice skating.

unfortunately, while you were preparing, your eleven year old self had neglected that fact that your friend-turned-crush hadn’t mentioned any of your other friends. as usual, you assumed dustin, will, and begrudgingly mike would join you for such occasion.

broke person’s ice-skating was a term you and will came up with back when nancy and jonathan used to take your group to a place called lover’s lake when it was frozen over.

mike and nancy wheeler both possessed a pair of ice skates, nice ice skates. the rest of you, somehow didn’t. however, jonathan byers claimed you didn’t need ice skates to ice skate, earning the confused glances of five other children, including yourself.

the older boy simply covered his huge boots in a plastic bag he stole from his mother’s work and stepped out onto the smooth ice.

it was ridiculous.

while, you and will laughed at him for a good twenty-five minutes before deciding to join him, dustin was the first to accept his own bag. lucas followed almost instantly.

you remember briefly the two slipping the second they rested their feet on the cold surface.

you and will had laughed harder.

that day though, when you arrived at the lake lucas had told you about over the phone, the only person you saw was him.

shit.

he didn’t even seem phased when your head swiveled around the area, trying to catch any sight of your other friends.

his dark eyes glistened pridefully under the rays of the morning sun and he seemed to be sitting on top of cloud nine. or ten, or whatever it was. you wondered what he could possibly be planning as he grabbed your hand and pulled you to the singular bench that sat upon the shoreline.

then, you remembered what nancy had said about boys during this month.

as an eleven year old, who didn’t know a single thing about dating boys or girls, kissing, and all that other gross stuff, you didn’t quite comprehend the meaning of her words.

“if you’re really lucky, some boys will go out of they’re way to make you feel special.”

unwarranted hope rose in your chest at the thought lucas dragging you somewhere to ask you out on a date.

nancy went on dates, jonathan sometimes went on dates, your parents went on dates, you could too, right?

it was the absurd and childish words that passed through your head that made your palms begin to sweat. even when standing in the freezing cold, lucas sinclair somehow made your skin grow warm.

a silly crush, mike would have labeled it as. and maybe he was right, but in that moment by the lake, the day before valentine’s day, you swore to whoever was in the skies that you had fallen in love with your friend.

SEPTEMBER 21, 1983. WHEELER RESIDENCE.

your skin was itchy. unbelievably itchy.

so itchy, in fact, that you were distracted long enough to run face-first into the post my mike’s stairwell.

“what are you doing?”

holding your forehead in your hands, you pivoted around to face the boy in question. his usually styled bowl-shaped hair was disheveled in all the ways it could be after a twelve hour long d&d campaign.

most of your friends were long gone.

will was picked up by his brother and dustin had bid you a goodbye before racing out the door to his bike.

the only three that remained was mike, lucas, and yourself.

the entire party could sense the shift in the wheeler’s attitude after eleven’s death. he had gained a moody sneer, cracked far less jokes, and practically attacked anyone who mentioned those changes.

will was first.

but that didn’t matter right now, because you were next.

the excuse of your itchiness flowed out of your mouth along with more relentless pacing, but it seemed mike wasn’t having it.

“could you sit down?” he said, his words underlined with blatant disinterest. “you’re annoying me.”

you understood where he was coming from. eleven was your friend too. he was simply upset. blaming himself for what happened not to long ago.

so, you did as he said, and sat yourself on the musty basement couch. the boy next to you, your best friend, seemed just as agitated. however, his wasn’t pointed at you.

“could you stop being such an asshole?”

a gasp tumbled past your lips before you could stop it. lucas had never really talked back to mike after the whole “she’s a weirdo” incident.

“you’re acting like you’re the only one who lost her.” he reasoned. “i get she was your first girlfriend, or whatever, but she was our friend too.”

mike scoffed, his back turning to face you.

“i’m serious, man. you’ve been acting like steve harrington for the past two weeks! we were having fun half an hour ago!”

the smaller boy didn’t reply.

“did you even hear yourself when you snapped at will the other day? he just got back, man.”

this time, mike turned again and sat himself in-between you. what shocked you most was when he stuck both of his hands out in your’s and lucas’ direction.

he grumbled unintelligibly under his breath.

“what?”

his face contorted in mockery, “i drew first blood.”

you spared a glance at lucas, only to find him beaming at his friend.

“‘s alright, mike.”

“learned your lesson, huh, mike?”

just like the first time at the lake, you swore again to the people above, you wouldn’t stop loving lucas sinclair until your heart stopped beating.

OCTOBER 31, 1984. HAWKINS MIDDLE SCHOOL.

you were sick to your stomach the very second your gaze fell upon her. max.

she was gorgeous. fiery red hair with the brightest eyes you’d ever seen. her skin was pale, but it held some kind of sunlight glow that complemented the light freckles that dusted her cheeks.

lucas liked her, you could tell. dustin liked her, you could tell. mike didn’t like her, you could tell. will maybe liked her? you weren’t sure.

it didn’t stop you from sitting in your room and wondering what she had that you didn’t. maybe it was the californian roots. you weren’t from california, you would never be from california.

however, you knew that lucas and dustin didn’t like max because of where she was from. the red-head could just as well have been from hawkins or some other rundown town in shitty indiana, they wouldn’t care.

they liked her because she was max.

you couldn’t be max.

her laugh sounded way different than yours. her smile was beautiful. she looked really pretty in a dress too. you couldn’t blame them. she was gorgeous.

you couldn’t hate her just because she was max. she was good. and she’s be good for either of them.

MAY 26, 1985. HENDERSON RESIDENCE.

nowadays, you spent your time with will. being the only two not in a relationship in the group pushed you both to the side. at least you were there together?

you both laughed at dustin’s stupid recommendation to “give it a shot!”

there were so many reasons that wouldn’t work.

reason a; you were still madly in love with lucas and you couldn’t just push that aside like a sugar packet.

reason b; will took his time to explain to you the meaning of homosexuality. which he dubbed, he was. he liked boys!

reason c; will was your fucking friend! you didn’t have a crush on him, and he didn’t have a crush on you. easy peasy!

while dustin was sure you liked each other because of your denial, you slapped will’s arm as you were bent over in hysterics. he was equally as a mess, tears falling from his eyes.

“yeah right!” he’d phrased through harsh wheezing. “okay dustin!”

now that you think of it, that’s the first time you’d seen will laugh like that in a long time. for some reason, even if it meant your unfortunate demise, you’d stay single for the rest of your life if it made will smile that way.

MARCH 24, 1986. WHEELER’S RESIDENCE.

this was the first time you realized you weren’t okay. the first time you realized just how much your hands shook. first time you realized the way your stomach churned painfully even when lucas and max weren’t in sight.

you weren’t okay.

lucas always seemed to make it worse.

for the first time in two days, you sat alone on mike’s front porch, simply listening quietly to your thoughts. the door creaked open behind you but you paid it no mind.

you weren’t okay.

lucas made it worse.

“hey.”

you didn’t acknowledge him. you were tired of hiding everything. sick of being alone because it felt as though you were mentally cheating on a mirage of lucas sinclair.

you weren’t okay.

and lucas made it worse.

“do you remember halloween in 8th grade?”

of course i do, you wanted to say, i would never forget.

you chose silence as your answer. you were so tired of pretending you were fine. you weren’t okay and lucas made it worse.

“do you remember what you said?”

how could i forget? i embarrassed myself.

“you said i was your best friend and that you loved me more than dustin and mike.” his words quieted near the end as if he was afraid to say them.

you said i was your best friend and that you’d always be with me, your conscious says, and then you left and ran up to max, i remember.

“i was an idiot, wasn’t i?”

yes, you wanna say so badly, yes you’re still an idiot. you’re so stupid it hurts me. you’re an idiot.

“you loved me.” he says in disbelief, “that’s crazy.”

i love you.

“what?”

you said it out loud. oh well, you shrug. what’s the worse that can happen? you lose a friend, he doesn’t love you back, he shames you — you didn’t think any of that irrelevant bullshit bothered you anymore.

you weren’t okay.

“present tense love?”

you shrug again.

“come on, give me some answers here.”

your head lulled against the cool brick wall to your left as a light sigh was finally released from your mouth. “yeah.”

lucas’ eyebrows furrowed together painfully, “yeah? yeah to what?”

“present tense.”

“you-you love me?” his throat was clogged. he couldn’t breathe. the world stopped.

“yeah.”

his throat was clogged. he couldn’t breathe. the world stopped. if he coughed, he’d bleed. if he inhaled, he’d choke. his throat was clogged. he couldn’t breathe. the world stopped.

“shit, man.”

“don’t worry,” you went with. you wouldn’t be the person to get in between a wounded relationship, whether it was an active relationship or not. “i get it. you love max, you love her a lot.”

it was lucas’ turn to sigh. “i do, but i love you too. just..”

“in a friendly way?”

“yeah.”

you laughed. the nails on chalkboard sound hurt his ears. it had never sounded like that before, so why now?

“i think i’m gonna go home.”

“what?”

“i’m gonna go home, lucas.”

“okay.”

you hoped this was him finally letting you go. giving you a freedom you craved after three years of yearning.

you stood steadily, not allowing the bare-ness of your arms phase you. you began following the small staircase down to the rough pavement, your mind ignoring the consequences of your actions.

you didn’t care anyways.

and it seemed lucas didn’t either. he didn’t bother to remind you that a inter-dimensional wizard was out on the loose, killing teenagers with boat loads of trauma.

whatever, you thought. you were tired of pretending you were fine. you weren’t okay and that was alright.

“hey!”

turning around, lucas trailing down your similar path with his jacket folded over his forearm. the tears gathering in the corners of his eyes were visible, yet you didn’t comment on them. “take it, can’t have you catching a cold.”

“thanks, lucas.”

“be careful.” i’m sorry, he means.

“i always am.” it’s okay, you mean.

[robinswrld]

Waiting for Him, W. Byers.

# summary: he’s tired of being will byers, but you’ll always be there when he is. # pairing: will byers x male!reader # warnings: angst angst angst, homophobia (use of the word queer in a terrible way), lonnie byers && an extreme self-deprecating mindset # word count: 1.3k

💭cara’s thoughts: i’m really fucking sad, #willbyersdeservesbetter2022. anyways, this is kind of a reflection on my own thoughts so that’s kinda sad, but yeah. the title graphic is really misleading bc this is actually so sad. anywho, happy reading :)

he was sobbing.

again.

quietly, as usual, in his bedroom — praying to whatever the hell was out there that his brother wouldn’t hear.

jonathan wouldn’t notice, of course he wouldn’t, he never did. always high off his goddamn mind and giggling about the stupidest shit he had ever heard, hoping for once, his mind would be somewhere other than nancy wheeler.

not that he could blame him.

because he was doing the same thing.

his fingers shook as tired cries ripped through his body. why couldn’t he just stop?

will byers wasn’t sure how much of this secrecy he could take. the sinking feeling in the pits of his stomach every time he was in public and couldn’t so much as look in your direction the wrong way without being called a raging queer.

he couldn’t spill his guts into letters the way el did, mike wouldn’t care about his problems. he couldn’t speak a word of it to his mother without the accompanying nagging feeling, what if she turned into-?

he didn’t even want to finish his ridiculous thought. yes it was ridiculous, but a thought nonetheless.

truly, he shouldn’t have even put himself into a situation like this.

it seemed to be one of his flaws. in the wrong place at the wrong time.

if he had just taken another hallway his first day of school, he would have never caught your eye and dragged you into the mess that was his life.

god, the things he would do to go back in time.

maybe if he would’ve just stayed at the wheeler’s house that cold november day in 1983, his life, he, wouldn’t be the piece of shit it was today.

it had been three goddamn years.

three nightmare filled, blood ridden years that would stick with him until the day he died — which could be anytime, if he really thought about it.

no, he was safe now.

california would be good for him. for el, maybe even for jonathan.

he supposed it had been fair so far. he couldn’t say it was the worse time in his life. if he did, he would by lying.

and as el keeps reminding him, friends don’t lie.

every time those three words slipped out of her mouth, the pit of anxiety in his chest grew deeper. they chipped away at what was left of his cracked and raw skin. his bleeding heart was held loosely from his sleeve, becoming an open wound that bled a little harder every second of the day.

will wasn’t sure how much blood he had left to give.

but then again, he had so much to live for.

he had his mom, his heart and soul. she was there through everything and never once gave up on him.

he had jonathan. as much as he hated his sudden distancing, his brother wouldn’t give up on him either. no matter how loud and often he begged and pleaded for him to just leave him to rot in his stupid belittling thoughts.

he had el. while her lies became a tiring cycle, she would fight through thick and thin to make sure that he was okay.

and he had you. switching between being guilty and thankful about your abrupt entrance into his life, he knew for a fact he wouldn’t give you up for anything in the world.

you would squeeze every last drop of blood out of your body, if it meant he wouldn’t have to give more of his. you would slice one of the knives in his kitchen so deeply into your palm, with zero care, if it meant his life could go back to the way it was.

easy.

he wasn’t sure whether or not he was happy about it. you would lay your life down on the line if it meant that will could finally sleep peacefully, no matter what the consequences were.

he was almost angry that you were so wiling to give up yourself, so that he could continue to live his stupid, fucked up life.

what had he done to deserve it anyways?

as he curled in on himself, screaming multiple profanities in his head, a rhythmic knock sounded at his bedroom door.

furiously, he wiped at his cheeks; the soft tan littered in freckles, morphing into a deep red. his brown eyes, that once held sparkling glee, as bloodshot as if he submerged his face into a bucket of bleach.

he couldn’t open that door. not now.

“byers?”

the second your voice hit his ears, his receding tears made their way back into his waterline. he could hear the short conversation you had with his brother, the simple asking of “is will okay?”

god, he was sick of listening to that question.

a few minutes later, just when he thought you finally gave up and left, the knock came again, “will?”

this time, however, the knob twisted gently and your concerned face entered his line of vision. he turned quickly, squeezing his eyes shut as tightly as he possibly could.

the bed dipped beside him, “i missed you today.”

right. earlier that morning, he slouched out of his room into jonathan’s with an embarrassingly unconvincing cough, claiming he was sick. running from his problems, again.

“how are you feeling, my love?”

my love, his stomach churned painfully. he didn’t deserve this kind of treatment, you were too good for him.

will couldn’t even muster a hum. he was pathetic.

maybe his father was right. he was just a pitiful queer, useless to this world and the next. his friends didn’t care, they used him, just like he said they would.

his sobs became louder. he didn’t mean them to erupt like this. not when you were in the room.

you should’ve made him happy, not sad. not angry.

deciding against using words, you simply lay beside him carefully, swinging your arm over his waist.

it took every bone in his body not to curl into your touch. instead, he switched to his instincts, pushing you by your elbow off of him.

he didn’t deserve comfort.

his knees rose to his chest as he clutched them like a child. a baby. like his life depended on not letting them go. with his cries muffled by his jeans, he hoped and prayed you would understand to leave him alone. to just go ahead and pack up your things and walk out the door like everyone else did.

you didn’t.

why’d you have to be so good.

he fought harshly against the urge to turn around and beg you to hug him. kiss him. touch him. do something. but it seemed his heart didn’t want to listen.

because the second he flipped back around, you were there waiting for him.

will froze.

his wide pupils stared up at you. his eyes burned with unshed tears until he willed himself to blink and they came slipping down his face.

“i’m sorry.” his throat finally cleared, finally opened, and those were the words he chose.

pathetic.

you leaned down, pulling him gently into an embrace.

he shook uncontrollably, slipping away from the corrupt judgement of his mind and into you.

you were always there. always.

you told him he was perfect, that he deserved every ounce of love this cruel place could offer. you gave that to him. you said there was nothing wrong with who he was, it was the world that was wrong.

“i’m sorry, i’m so sorry.”

will byers was a liar. he lied to everyone. his mom, his brother, his sister, his friends.

they didn’t know about what he was.

surely, they would hate him for what he did.

but not you.

he wasn’t even sure you were capable of hating him.

because you had assured him, so many times, that you loved him more than you loved yourself. more than you loved anything.

that was, against all odds, what kept will byers alive.

you’d always be waiting for him.

[robinswrld]

⁀➷❀. will byers.

includes fics, blurbs, drabbles, and headcanons !

full series! (1k+ words with multiple parts!)

none available!

fics! (1k+ words with one part!)

⚘ ❀ waiting for him, he’s tired of being will byers, but you’ll always be there when he is. (will byers x male!reader)

shorts! (300 — 900+ words!)

none available!

blurbs! (100+ words!)

none available!

drabbles! (less than 100 words!)

none available!

headcanons! (ideas rather than full writings!)

none available!

[robinswrld]

⁀➷❀. lucas sinclair.

includes fics, blurbs, drabbles, and headcanons !

full series! (1k+ words with multiple parts!)

none available!

fics! (1k+ words with one part!)

⚘ ❀ don’t go breaking my heart, when a snarky red-head comes along, you begin to reflect on your past with the party and a certain sinclair in a sequence of events before, during, and after the appearance of max mayfield. (lucas sinclair x fem!reader)

shorts! (300 — 900+ words!)

❀ a set of rules, mr. sinclair knows one too many things about how teenage boys act and decides that erica’s room and a set of rules are the only solutions! (lucas sinclair x gn!reader)

blurbs! (100+ words!)

none available!

drabbles! (less than 100 words!)

none available!

headcanons! (ideas rather than full writings!)

none available!

[robinswrld]

boundaries related to my writing!

i do not and will never write the following — rape or non-con, anything having to do with the reader or anyone else being a minor in suggestive content, specified body types — can also include gender depending on the character it’s being written for!

readers will also be race neutral / non-specified, as i am a white person, it is not my intent to word writings like i am a different race (i always write with a white reader in my mind because i am white) and there will be no identifiers (hair type, skin color, facial feature) descriptions that will define / stereotype any races. everyone is welcome on this blog and i intend to keep things as easy to read as possible.

once again, my works should never be published anywhere by anyone other than myself! so pls don’t steal, thank you!

being a non-binary person, as i am, i will write pretty much any kind of relationships (wlw, mlm, nblw, etc..) depending on requests/other circumstances <3

requests are always open unless stated otherwise!

boundaries related to this blog!

like i’ve said, i really don’t care too much about age, therefore; there are really no age restrictions aside from if you are 18+ reading things about minors (don’t do that pls <3)

don’t follow me if you are an ageless/blank blog. (if you’re an adult, just say it. if you’re a minor, just say it, i am too). i want this acc to be as respectful and safe for the actors of these characters as much as the rest of you do.

if hate of any kind is sent, i will simply delete your ask/comments, and then block you. this is a safe space for everyone <3

besides bigots, racists, homophobes, and any other related things.

just be nice and friendly, and you’re all set!

anons are also very welcome <3

[robinswrld]

⁀➷❀. cara / cay! white. she/her. xvi. steven conklin lovebot. eleven hopper stan ‘til the day i’m in the ground.

💐 ─ important links! my masterlist! ⋆ boundaries! ⋆ wips / recs!

💐 ─ requests? open!

💐 ─ recent works! waiting for him, (w. byers x male!reader) don’t go breaking my heart, (l. sinclair x fem!reader)

💐 — layout creds! @gabbimunson