#robin buckley scenario

[moonstruckme]

I had an art show tonight and no one showed up(strangers did, but my friends and fam didn't. They were all too busy i guess). If it's okay with you could I get some comfort from Robin? I need my beautiful girlfriend to hug me 😔😪🤧

I'm really sorry it went down like that sweetheart, I hope the show was good overall and you feel more supported if you do it again! Thanks for requesting <3

Robin Buckley x fem!reader ♡ 473 words

“I think it went well, right?” Robin sits atop the one table you haven’t folded up yet, eating mini brownies right out of the tray. “I mean, plenty of people came, and that one lady said she’ll come to your next one, too. You gave tons of people your info.” 

“Yeah.” You try to sound upbeat, packing away the last of your pieces and joining her on the table. “You’re right, it wasn’t bad.” 

Your girlfriend turns her head to look at you, mouth puckering. “Okay, you say that, but you’re still looking all mopey.” 

“Sorry,” you sigh. “I just wish they’d come.” 

The bridge of her nose wrinkles, pretty eyes squinting distastefully. “Whatever. More brownie bites for us,” she says, popping another one in her mouth. 

You try to laugh, but it’s not very convincing. Robin’s expression creases further. 

“Sorry,” she says around the brownie. Swallows. “Sorry, it’s just, it’s shitty. It is.” She hops down from the table, standing between your knees. Her ringed hands travel up the outsides of your thighs. “You were amazing today. Like, seriously. You were so good at talking to people, and everyone wanted to hear about your art, and they should, because it’s the fucking coolest, you know?” She looks into your face, seemingly to make sure you do know, and she doesn’t push you when you look away. 

“It really sucks that they didn’t get to see it,” she says, so earnestly disappointed it makes the ache of your own heart worsen. 

You twine your arms loosely around her neck, and Robin doesn’t need more urging to hug you, pushing in between your legs as her hands slide up around your lower back. You’re just taller than her like this, her face pushing into your shoulder while your cheek squishes against her hair. She holds you tight around your middle, fingers clutching at your shirt like you’ll disappear if she’s not careful. 

“We should stop going to any of their things,” she mumbles, turning her face into your neck so the words vibrate against your skin. “There are too many birthdays in a year anyway.” 

You laugh, for real this time. “No, I don’t think I’m that mad.” 

“This is the problem,” Robin sighs, though she sounds happier than before. “You’re too nice.” 

“Like you would do any different if you were me.” 

She makes a cute disgruntled sound, hugging you tighter. Something in your chest lightens. “It’s different when it’s you. I have more of a thirst for vengeance.” 

“Sorry.” You turn your face into the crown of her head, lips curving. “I hate to leave you unquenched.” 

Robin’s quiet for a second, thoughtful. “Can I at least make pointed comments about how cool your show was the next time we see them?” 

“I mean, if you really want to.” 

“Oh, I do.”

[ddejavvu]

Play wrestling with your gf Robin Buckley, but Steve walks in and practically shrieks because he thinks you two are doing something wildly different

In Steve's defense, you are biting Robin's thigh. But you're biting her thigh to overpower her, which- doesn't sound much better. But you're wrestling - really wrestling, not wrestling.

You've got her pinned to the wall, and you'd dropped to your knees to gnaw at the sensitive skin of her inner thigh. The pinch from your teeth is meant to make her knees give out, and once she's on the floor you'll grab her wrists and pin them to her back. Then you'll declare yourself the winner before she can escape. It's meant to be a foolproof plan, but- well, Steve Harrington has been called a fool before. Perhaps no plan is foolproof enough for him.

He's accustomed to walking into Robin's room like it's his own, but this time you're sure he wishes he'd knocked. He finds you kneeling between Robin's legs, face buried in her thigh a little too close to what's between them for Steve's comfort.

He screams. He screams, and slaps a hand over his eyes, and stumbles backwards all at once, which means he goes tumbling back down Robin's staircase. Her bedroom is right at the top of it, and the hallway is evidently not wide enough for Steve to stop in before he falls right back down the way that he came.

You both dart to the staircase and watch as he lands at the base with a sickening thud, and a groan that you've come to associate with visits to the emergency room.

"Steve?" Robin calls, feet pounding against the stairs as she races to his side. She prods at his temple, and when he grumbles something incoherent in response, she lifts his head off of the floor. She cradles it in her hands, checking for his pulse, "Steve, can you hear me?"

"Yes, dipshit, stop poking me," He swats her hand away when he regains the wind that was knocked out of him, and he sits up while glaring at you where you stand at the top of the staircase.

"That was fucking disgusting." He accuses. You're fairly certain you have the right to do whatever you want with your girlfriend in her own home, but you'd just caused Steve possible brain damage, so you don't point that out.

"We were play-fighting," Robin huffs, rubbing the back of her hand where Steve had smacked her, "You're the one who didn't knock."

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry, I've been your best friend for two years," Steve gripes, struggling to his feet and rubbing at the back of his head where you presume it hit a step, "I didn't know I had to alert the presses to my arrival. Listen- you two," He turns his glare back to you, "I'm- happy for you, okay? But don't- don't ever do that shit again. Close the door, put a sock on it, put up a sign, I don't care, just- never again."

Steve chooses to ignore your rather snippy 'Yes, sir,' in favor of exaggerating a wince as he prods at a sensitive spot near the base of his neck. "Un-fucking-believable," He scoffs, "Another concussion, and this one didn't even come from an interdimensional monster.

[chalametluvrz]

stranger things p♡rn links

steve harrington

steve’s passenger princess

kitten licking

railing your cunt

he knows how to treat you

manhandling you

eddie munson

his good little maid

using your pussy

playing rough

thigh fucking you

morning sex

robin buckley

playing with your pussy

enjoying her ‘cock’

eating your cunt

making a mess of her face

destroying your fuckhole

nancy wheeler

eating her out in steve’s car

overstimulating her

when she misses you

showering together turns dirty

taking control of her

jonathan byers

treating you good

“painting” you

rough backshots

riding him desperately

it’s all about you

note: all the links are working as of sep 13th!!! you will need to log into ur twitter and remove the sensitivity setting <3

[lily-fics-11]

The Cynic and The Sweetheart

You are cynical about love but Robin, the hopeless romantic with a secret crush, tries to convince you that love is real. 

Warnings: not beta read, cynicism, a little bit of angst, a little bit of fluff, kissing/making out, revelations about sexuality

You enter Family Video, and your sort-of-friend Robin is behind the counter. 

“Hey Y/N!” She seems happy to see you. You two run in different social circles but frequent the same parties and have classes together.

“Hey, how’s it going?” You ask with a smile.

“Good, I’m good. Are you looking for anything specific?”

“Not really, I’ve got nothing to do tonight so I figured I would watch a movie.” You sigh. Your best friend had said that she would hang out with you tonight but she bailed on you at the last minute to go on a date. 

“Why don’t I help you pick something out,” Robin offers.

“That sounds great, thank you.” Even though it’s her job, you appreciate her taking the time to help you out after being blow off by your friend. 

Robin heads down one of the rows of videos. You follow her until she stops scanning the shelves and pulls something out.

“Sixteen Candles” she says, holding the video out to you. “We just got it in, I saw it when it was in theatre, it was great.” You can tell she is a fan of the movie by the way she talks about it so you feel bad not accepting the video and rolling your eyes by accident. 

“Robin, I appreciate your help, but I don’t think you know me well enough for this. In all honestly, I wouldn’t be caught dead watching a rom com.” Any of your close friends would know better than to recommend a rom com to you. You don’t blame Robin though, even though you were more than acquaintances you were not quite friends.

Robin looks shocked to say the least. “You don’t like rom coms? Who doesn’t like rom coms? Everyone loves rom coms!” She almost sounds offended. 

“Me I guess. I’m just, not a fan, you know?”

“No, I don’t know. Like at all! I don’t get it, what’s not to love about romance and happy endings?” She is defending rom coms like her life depends on it. 

“Because love is just a concept, Robin, it’s intangible!” You are just as defensive as she is.

“Love is absolutely real!” She seems very protective of this concept.

“Alright then, prove it to me,” you laugh knowing that making reality out of fiction is an impossible task.

“How am I supposed to prove it? I can’t just prove that love is real. Love and romance means something different for everybody. I wouldn’t know what the definition of love and romance would be for you, especially if you don’t even know it yourself. Haven’t you ever had a crush that makes your heart beat fast? Haven’t you ever felt the magic of falling for someone? Haven’t you ever had a perfect kiss? Haven’t you ever had someone look at you like you put the sun in the sky?” Robin is absolutely flabbergasted. 

“No,” you just laugh more. “I’m still in high school. Isn’t it kind of intense? All of that at such a young age?”

“Well, I haven’t exactly experienced most of that myself. But I’ve read so many romance novels and watched so many movies and listened to so many love songs. Love just seems like something to strive for. It seems like falling in love would make the sun shine brighter,” Robin explains slightly in distress. 

“Other people might have a definition of love, but I don’t. Because no one would ever feel that way about me, so I would never let myself feel that way about someone else. I understand that love is real for some people, but it’s just not real for me.” You try to clarify, stubbornly attempting to prove your point. 

“I’m sorry.” Is all she has to say about that, looking like you just crushed her dreams.

“Why are you sorry?” You question.

“For starters, a life without the prospect of love is like a puzzle you can’t finish because there is a piece missing. But also because I can’t imagine what it’s like feeling as if no one could ever love you. I wouldn’t wish that upon anyone. Not even my worst enemy, and you’re a good person.” She looks genuinely concerned about you. 

“Don’t worry about me, Robin.” You laugh again, trying to make light of what has become a deep conversation “I’m just being realistic.”

“What if you’re not?” She suggests. 

“What do you mean?” You are not exactly sure what she is trying to get at.

“Y/N, what if you’re not being realistic? What if there was someone out there who felt drawn to you? That would kiss you if they got the chance? What if there was someone who saw you for who you are, not even caring that you don’t believe in love, because they could see themselves falling for you?” She offers that all to you, reserved but hopeful.

“I don’t know, Robin. I’ve never really thought about it. I guess I just have faith in my assumptions.” You shake your head, trying not to let her into it. You never intended to have a philosophical conversation. You just wanted to watch a movie. 

Robin puts the video back on the shelf and then takes a step towards you. You are not sure why, but you also don’t question it. 

“Just play devil’s advocate for a minute. What if you found out that your assumptions were wrong? Would that be enough to sway your opinion?” Robin seems well intentioned but you really aren’t sure why she is bothering. What does she get out of this? She is, however, starting to make you think no matter how hard you are trying to resist.

You ponder over what could persuade you to view love and romance differently. You eventually come to the conclusion that “I guess I would need some proof, like an experience that made it tangible for me. I guess it would take someone genuinely liking me, or kissing me and actually meaning it. Not just any person could convince me. It would have to be real and special.”

“So what you are telling me is that if someone genuinely wanted to kiss you, they should do it?” She’s got an air of curiosity.

“I wouldn’t want someone to kiss me that I couldn’t see myself with. But I guess if I let someone close enough to kiss me, why not? Neither of us would have anything to lose.” You tell her all this hoping to have satisfied her curiosity. You expect this to be the end of the conversation. There is no one else to turn to and it’s not like she is going to romance you. And she is definitely not going to kiss you. 

That imaginary prospect sparks something in you though. You had never really thought that much about kissing anyone because kissing boys seemed like the only option. But the new found option of kissing a girl, that is intriguing. Your head begins to spin.

Robin takes another step towards you, leaving less than a foot of space between you. She reaches out her hand to brush a piece of hair off of your face. 

“Is this close enough?” She asks with a smirk. Robin seems to be testing the waters, as if she were following the steps you have given her. But that’s ridiculous. Right? You are just letting yourself get carried away. She’s only gotten inside your head to prove her point. Right?

There is something about the way that Robin looks at you that causes a fluttery feeling in your stomach that you’ve never felt before. It reminds you of the way people describe their first crush or first kiss.

But now you are met with Robin’s pretty face, beautiful smile, and, now that you are looking deeply into them, alluring blue eyes. Something about Robin and this conversation has practically changed the chemistry of your brain and triggered a part of your imagination that you didn’t know existed. You can hardly believe it. But god is she endearing. You’ve quickly come to the conclusion that if it were with a girl, kissing was something you were interested in. Especially if that girl was Robin, who has taken the time to challenge your cynicism in a way that no one else ever cared enough to. 

“I… I… um. Yes. I would say that’s, um, close enough.” You squeak out nervously. Your heart is racing from the attention that no one has ever given you before. You feel drawn to her like a magnet. 

“So you are sure, you wouldn’t mind if I…” Robin begins but you cut her off, taking another step so you two have mere inches between you. “Just shut up and kiss me.” 

Robin leans down towards you and you can feel her smile against your lips as she kisses you, as if she’s been waiting for this moment for a long time. At first you are both standing there a little awkwardly. But you just can’t seem to get enough of Robin. So you get as close to her as you can, your bodies pressed together, and you wrap your arms around her neck. She follows your lead and grabs your hips, clumsily at first but once her hands are settled in their position she tightens her grip. Robin was pulling you in as if she were trying to get closer despite the absence of space between you. Does she feel the same gravitational pull you feel towards her? The way that Robin holds you in place against her and insatiably kisses you starts a fire deep within you. You can tell that she really means it. She kisses you with an intention you didn’t know she had. You never imagined that another girl could make you feel this way.

You have no idea how much time had passed when you hear the door open. You and Robin quickly separate yourselves from one another and try to act casual. But you are unable to take your eyes off eachother or stop smiling. 

“You know what Robin, I think I’ll take that movie,” you tell her nervously. Now that you have had this revelation about her she is making you nervous. Is this a crush? Is this more?

“Really?” She asks, sounding surprised and looking excited. 

“I think you’ve started to convince me that romance is all that it’s cracked up to be.” She looks a little disappointed when you tell her that, “only started?”

You lean towards her and whisper in her ear with a smirk: “I think you should come over after work and watch this movie with me. You can finish proving your point.”

Robin’s jaw drops and her eyes go wide. She takes a moment to recollect herself. 

“You will be a firm believer by the time I’m done with you.”

Thanks for reading, lmk what you think:)

[fuckmymunson]

🎄𝗨𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗿 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗖𝗵𝗿𝗶𝘀𝘁𝗺𝗮𝘀 𝘁𝗿𝗲𝗲: Send me a character + prompt from this smut list ;)!

robin buckley “I’m going to fucking ruin you.” +“You’re so in for it when we get home.”

your writing is SO GOOD! i hope you’re having a wonderful december <3

THIS IS MY FIRST TIME WRITING FOR ROBIN OMG, I'M SO EXCITED! Thank you so much!!! I really appreciate your kind words and I hope you had a wonderful December and a Happy New Year! 💛. Btw, I'm on my phone so I don't have the «read more» feature, so sorry!:(

18+, smut! Sub!Robin ♡, Dom!Reader, drunk(ish) sex, dirty talk, (if you squint? Idk), fingering.

︵‿︵‿‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿ʚ♡ɞ‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿

Robin was your local awkward, adorable girlfriend. Always wearing a lovely blush on her cheeks and still getting all flustered by your kisses, pet names and compliments after almost a year of dating.

Her sweet and rambling personality completely bewildered you— yet, it was one of your favorite things about her.

But god forbids, the moment she sips a single drop of alcohol.

Goodbye shy, nervous Robin, hello bratty, cocky Robin.

You two weren't used to public displays of affection, your friends were pretty much into it and even encouraged you two to be more comfortable between them, making you feel safe in an environment where you knew you wouldn't be judged. No one cared if you two kissed, or held hands, or whatever!

But unfortunately not everyone thought like that.

Don't get me wrong either— You love a touchy Robin, a smiling gorgeous girl who cupped your face and kissed you lovingly; But, you weren't quite fond of the way a couple of immature jocks looked at you, laughing and clearly whispering obscenities.

Or the group of childish cheerleaders that kept gossiping at the way Robin's hands sneaked under your skirt and grope at your thighs.

"Darling" You whispered to her ear, removing the red cup from her ringed hand. "Let's cut the alcohol a bit, yeah? I need to take you home and I don't want you puking your mom's couch again"

"Baby— Come on" She said, loudly. Brunette locks framing her freckled cheeks. "I just wanna give my girl some sweet lovin', don't be bitchy!"

"Me? Bitchy?" You inquired, huffing. You slap her hand away from your ass again. "Robin, stay still. Or else you know what happens to bad girls" You let the threat linger in the air.

"Yeah? What? You gonna send me to sleep without a goodbye kiss?" She mocked and grabbed the first red cup on her eyesight, not bothering to check it before drinking from it.

"Robin, this is your last warning"

"You gonna spank me or what?" She giggled and playfully slapped your thigh.

"You're so in for it when we get home"

Your hand trapped her wrist, dragging her outside Steve's house. Robin saw the look on your eyes gulped, suddenly nervous. She didn't realized how much she was pushing her luck. As if every drop of alcohol and bratty confidence drained from her body, she tried to save herself.

"Babe! I w—was just joking you know? Haha, you know I didn't mean any of that"

Your answer was silence.

You stomped your way to your car, opening the passenger door and pushing her inside, gently yet firmly. Crawling on top of her, you locked the door, cupping her face and kissing her. Robin moaned against your lips, already full aware of what was about to happen.

"I'm going to fucking ruin you" You promised.

Usually, you would take your time with her, one by one pushing her buttons and turning her into a needy, begging mess— Not tonight, though. Robin moaned against your hair when you sank two fingers inside her, curling them and squeezing her thigh as you held her legs open. The position was uncomfortable, your car wasn't that big but it had to do. Without hesitation you moved your fingers at a mean pace, in and out, in and out, the wet noises of her pussy made you choke a moan, this was a punishment, you needed to remind yourself that.

Your thumb rubbed her clit, already swollen between her puffy, sweet lips. Robin cried your name, ashamed of how quickly she was cumming.

"I'm sorry—I'm sorry!" She almost yelled, biting her lips. "Please mommy I'll be good!"

"Now you wanna be good?" You rolled your eyes but your voice was hoarse and trembling.

With a high yelp, Robin came around your fingers, clenching around your digits and yanking your hair almost unconsciously. Her lips searched yours and you gave in just this time, because what was about to happen will be way worse.

Instead of removing your fingers like you would usually do, you continued your movements, this time adding a third finger easily due to the new wave of slick that coated them. Your girlfriend mewled, a bit overwhelmed by the sudden overstimulation.

"Nononononono—" She shook her head, already knowing your plans.

Robin hated to be overstimulated to the point that it brought tears to her pretty light eyes and turned her into a wet, putty mess.

You, on the other hand, were having the time of your life.

"Remember the last time you came four times and squirted?" You talked, nonchalantly. Not giving her time of replying, you continued: "Let's see if I can make you squirt before the third time"

"But—fuck" She cried, clenching around your fingers when your teeth gazed over her nipples over her thin cotton shirt. "Baby, your car— it's gonna be all m—messy"

"Don't worry, it's leather. You can clean it with your tongue"

[sunricecake]

skates ahoy! | robin buckley

synopsis — a rink-o-mania date with robin makes you fall for her harder than you already have.

cw : none, this is all just cheesy fluff :3

a/n : okay this is a fucking REPOST bcs it wouldnt appear in any of the tags the first time if u saw it then no u didnt hopefully tumblr stops being lesbophobic this time. also i love writing cliche scenes but making it wlw it makes my heart flutter sm 💕 like yess this is the shit i wldve loved watching while growing up

“i swear i know how to do this it's just that it's been a while and i'm just not really-i just-”

“it's alright, robin,” you chuckled, “i've got you.”

her lips parted, ready to tell you that she'll be fine and all she needed was to adjust, but you cut her off as you extended your arm towards her.

“here, grab my hand.”

“are you sure 'cause i might slip and make you fall and i really don't wanna injure you on our first date and leave you with a pretty bad concussion—”

“trust me, buckley.”

you pressed on, reaching out to grab her hand with a determined look on your face. robin let out a surprised yelp as she felt your fingers wrap around her wrist, slowly pulling her with you as you began moving. her breath hitched as the two of you slowly glided across the wooden floor, shoulders stiff and square as a board as she allows you to take lead.

“okay maybe this is easier than i expected,” robin lets out a dry laugh. “but i'm still not too sure about this whole thing.”

“we're gonna be fine, robin. see no accidents—” you said reassuringly, looking back to see how robin was doing.

as you turned your head straight, a flash of colors interrupted your vision and you vaguely hear robin exclaiming something. you let out a gasp, preparing yourself for collision.

you kept your eyes shut tight, waiting for the strong impact which never came. you crack an eye open, wondering why you weren't laying flat as a pancake on the floor with terrible bruises on the making, only to be met with a strong cologne. robin's.

“you bastard! watch where you're going!”

you lift your head from her chest slowly, being greeted by the sight of her flipping off whoever you nearly just crashed into. a deep sigh of relief slipped past your lips, thankful to the heavens robin had reacted on time and saved you from god knows what terrible accident might've happened.

“hey, are you alright?” robin asked, voice trembling and eyes all wide, turning her full attention to you as she inspected you for injuries. “did he actually hit you back there? i swear i made sure to pull you before he could even graze you but, oh, i'll never forgive myself if i didn't make it in time.”

you could only chuckle and nod, still too shocked and flustered from being so close to her and practiclly being engulfed in her scent to form a coherent sentence.

“god i don't know what i'd do if i ever lost you— i mean, i'm just really glad that you're safe.” it was robin's turn to heave out a heavy sigh, covering her mouth immediately in fear she'd say even more than she intended to.

“thank you, robin. really.” you squeezed her hand as a bright smile crept to your face and heat crept up your neck, hoping that would be enough to show your appreciation. had you been in less compromising circumstances, you might've just tackled her and peppered her freckled face with kisses; for now, you supposed that would do.

[sincerelylea]

tw: violence, injuries.

affectionate friends, also canon divergence.

mdni i block.

12:22 am. steve & robin. sleep thru ur alarms.

she’s got an arm around steve, tucked just under his waist, and the other hand raps against your window fervently. his arm is slung around her shoulders, it’s long since gone limp now and robin’s getting increasingly worried with every passing second. her heart is jackhammering behind her ribcage, she feels it begin to surface to her throat at no visible sign of you within your room. she was strong, and brave, and she didn’t need an inspirational poster to remind her in that moment but she would sure appreciate it all the same. 

she cups a hand to the glass and whispers your name ferociously, as many times as it takes as steve’s limp body begins to truly way her down until the light of your bedroom flickers on and she sees you rubbing at your eyes and nearing the window. it feels like a wash of cool water runs over the fire in her chest, throat, and eyes, and it’s soon that your sleepy eyes widen and quickly your hands work at unlocking your window - worried gaze focused hard on steve as his head lulls aimlessly. 

“jesus christ, robin what the fuck is going on?” you grab steve by the shoulders and robin helps lean his body weight into your own to drag him into your window. she’s groaning, and past exhausted, she feels like she could melt into the earth and find eternal slumber. behind her eyes with every blink she sees his bloodied face first being dragged into that interrogation room, the cold blue eyes of the general, and the feeling of that needle in her neck. her skin crawls, she’s starting to not feel safe in her body; or her head. 

she lowers his legs down to the rug of your bedroom by his calves, her fingers dig into her hairline and her eyes are searching all over your room like she’s thinking through a list within her skull. your hands stable steve’s face, tapping his cheek with your palm continuously. “steve? steve! fuck, fuck, fuck-” 

“fuck we shouldn’t be here, we shouldn’t-” she pushes her hair back with ringed fingers and turns to close your bedroom window with searching eyes to make sure they weren’t followed or being watched. the grass outside your home was clear, and no shadows lurked in the treeline surrounding your yard. she locks it with sweaty fingers and pulls the curtains tight. 

you watch her with hands stable on steve’s shoulders. “dude, robin. look at me.” she turns, hair bouncing along her jaw. she’s biting her lips and thumbnail, gaze focused intently on you and steve. 

“you are safe. no one is here, no one followed you. i promise.” your palm lay parallel to the ground in hand gestures to keep her relaxed. “but you have got to tell me what the hell happened. it’s like twelve-twenty in the morning and steve is unconscious.” 

“i-” she gathers herself on the ground and rests her tappy fingers on her knees. seeing her this shook up has every hair on your body standing on edge, constantly looking her over for any injuries or any other signs of what happened. “i can’t… right now i can’t just-”

you lift a finger, focus a kind gaze into her eyes, “that’s okay. don’t explain if you don’t want to, let’s- let’s get you guys cleaned up,”

you focus your eyes back on steve, he breathes heavy from his mouth, eyes peeking open ever so slowly and your heart picks back up in your chest. “steve? steve, it’s us. wake up, hun.” you push the hair from his face and robin plants a hand on his knee unconsciously. 

it’s hot in your room, you put a hand on robin’s forearm. “i’m gonna go grab some food and water, watch him okay? i’ll be right back.”

you slip out of your door, conscious not to wake your mother in the dead of night to avoid her questioning; you had to be quick. you turn the thermostat down and tip toe to the kitchen to grab bottles of water and a few things to make sandwiches in the hazy panic of your brain. when you return to your room, steve is awake, though barely, and he looks at robin and sighs. “robin?” he questions, head lulling back until you close the door softly and sit next to him on the ground. 

“steve, christ i was worried. how are you feeling?” you drop a few tabs of aspirin in his palm and he sighs as he throws them back. 

“like a million bucks, honestly.” you breathe out a laugh before throwing your hair back out of your face. 

-

“they kept asking who i worked for. but i told them a million fucking times and they didn’t believe me.” steve shakes out his hair in the towel and you hand him the ice pack from your freezer to hold to his abdomen. robin slips on a pair of your shorts from behind your closet door. “i guess ice scream slingers don’t break into russian bases frequently.”

robin steps out and combs through her wet hair with a borrowed comb, she’s smiling, though you can see that worried shadow in her eyes. you reach for her hand and she grasps it, you squeeze tight. “you’re safe. i promise you that. if russians break into this house they’d be pretty dense. i got years of unbridled rage in this body just waiting to beat the shit out of someone.” she chuckles and leans her head against your shoulder. 

“i’ve never feared… death like that before.” it’s silent in the room when she speaks. “like looked it in the face like that.” steve’s lips fold into a line, eyes falling to focus on the ground and you can tell he’s reliving it for a moment. he looks exhausted, all bruised and swollen, clad in one of your band shirts and shorts he left over once. 

steve ends up laying his tired head in your lap, you run your nails through his hairline and his eyes begin to get heavy as robin continues explaining how they ended up in this predicament. “i wish i was there with you guys. i can’t believe you didn’t tell me!” 

“we didn’t want you in danger.” steve replies suddenly. rolling his head to the side and grabbing your hand to place on his head to continue the threading of your fingers in his hair. “plus you had that internship going on.” robin adds, head still on your shoulder. 

“that’s true but i would’ve kicked ass with y’all! you gotta get me involved with more adventures. unbridled rage, remember?” 

-

you lean over steve to turn the knob of your stereo on, softly playing a quiet station as you sank into your small bed cozied up to the warmth of your friends. the lights are off, curtains still pulled, and 2 o’clock is ticking closer on your bedside clock. it’s mostly quiet, steve is gonna knock out any second, but you wrap a careful arm around his middle anyway, pulling yourself closer to his warmth. 

he never really spoke about it - when he did it was rare - but you knew steve held some pain deep down. down below the cool guy act, the hair, the carefree attitude. that was all to maintain his look, the look everyone expected of him. but within the confines of your bedrooms, when the records would play and your mom’s liquor stash was raided, you heard of the shit he went through. the things that bothered him deep down. and even if it was just a moment you wanted him to feel comforted, comforted from a person he could confide in. though he didn’t say it, getting the shit beat out of you can really damage the spirit. 

robin was still antsy as she rested her chin at the top of your head, arm tucked over your waist. you could nearly hear her thoughts, the codes and words and memories flashing in her head. she was fearless, valiant. you didn’t care about the band uniform, she was definitely smarter than you and steve, though he’d probably have something to say about that. she couldn’t turn off her brain. and you knew she’d be thinking till the sun peeked over the horizon unless you said something. 

“i’d never let anything happen to you guys.” you swallow, eyes open but vision mostly blocked by steve’s neck and collar of your shirt he wore. “never if i could help it.” he exhales, shifting to stroke the side of your head with his palm, robin nuzzles her cheek into your head and finally closes her eyes.

[rogueddie]

Part one

Steve has so many questions, especially once they get in Eddies van. Everything is different- from the shops to the people. Even the trees look different. He wants to know why.

"We already told you," Dustin sighs. "Time has passed, fashion has changed, whatever."

"But why?" He leans forward, jabbing his finger at one of the shops. "Why did they change the colors?"

"I don't know!"

Dustin doesn't yell, not like his father would. He doesn't do anything other than groan too, encouraging Steve to keep asking questions. He even dares to stick his tongue out when he finally starts complaining, asking Steve to shut up.

By the time they pull up outside a small, wooden cabin, Dustin looks ready to strangle him.

It's kind of funny.

"Alright," Eddie finally speaks up. "Let's go."

He quickly jumps out, jogging around to catch Steve as he steps out, throwing him over his shoulder. He laughs when Steve yells, trying to kick him.

"Don't be a brat, Harrington!" He cackles.

"This is why you aren't cool like Robin!" He yells back, twisting around so he can tug at his hair. "You're a meanie."

"Ow, dude, not the hair!"

Someone clears their throat, making Eddie stop walking. Steve tries to wriggle around, trying to see who it is, but Eddies jacket blocks his view no matter what.

Someone snaps their fingers, after a moment, and Eddie gently lowers him back onto his feet.

The man standing in front of the cabin door looks stunned, when Steve turns around. He blinks at the group for a second, before silently pointing to Steve.

"We don't know," Robin answers. "He's been like this for a while."

"Let me guess; parents aren't home. Again."

"They're busy!" Steve defends.

The man snorts, shaking his head. "That's what you always say, kid." He steps aside, nodding towards the cabin. "Come on, she knew you were coming."

Before Steve can step inside, following the group, the man stops him with a hand on his shoulder.

"Kid," the man clears his throat as he crouches down. His hand is gentle on his shoulder. "You doing ok?"

"I'm fine."

"Steve. This is probably very confusing and scary, I know, but you need to trust us. We want to help you."

Steve scuffs his feet on the floor, grumbling, "yeah, I know."

"So if you're not ok, you can tell us."

"Yeah, I know."

The man stares at him for a moment, before nodding. "If that changes, let us know, ok?"

"Ok."

"Good. Come on."

The inside of the cabin is cozy. Cluttered. Lived in.

"Hello Steve!" A young woman greets. Her hair is shorter than his, Steve notes. And she has a nice smile.

"Hello."

"I am Jane, but you can call me El." She offers her hand.

He shakes it automatically, a little surprised when she doesn't let go. "El?"

"That is what my friends call me." She gestures towards the two pillows set out on the floor, in front of the TV. "I am going to find out what has happened to you. It won't hurt."

"Uh, right. What- uh..." He looks to Robin, who nods encouragingly. "What do I do?"

"Sit with me."

She gently tugs him over, sitting on one of the pillows. She smiles at him when he hesitates, waiting, patient.

He keeps quiet, looking to the others when she pulls out a blindfold.

"It helps her think," the man explains.

Steve nods, even though he doesn't understand what that means.

For a moment, nothing happens. They sit there, almost silent- the static from the TV starts to grate his ears, especially with how close they're sat. But the others look tense, impatient, so Steve tries to stay where he is. He tries to behave.

Until he spots blood.

"She's bleeding!" He points out.

He goes to jump to his feet, but a hand quickly lands on his shoulder, pushing him back down.

It's Robin.

"It's ok, she's ok, it's just a nosebleed," she says. "It's harmless, really. She knows what she's doing."

Robin stays next to him. She even lets him hold her hand when he reaches out for her.

It's not long, after that, until El lifts the blindfold off. She looks confused.

"Well?" Dustin snaps. "What is it? Is he ok? Did someone do-"

"Hey," Eddie gently interrupts, leaning over to bump their shoulders together.

"He is ok," El says, once Dustin relaxes a little. "But I... don't know how this happened."

"How do we change him back?" Eddie asks.

"I can't, I'm sorry. But it is taking too much power to sustain itself."

"Wait, wait, wait," Robin rubs at her forehead. "So, you can't change him back but, what, eventually he will on his own?"

"Yes."

"How long will that take?" Dustin asks.

"I am not sure. Maybe a week? Two?"

"And until then he's just stuck like this?"

"I am sorry, Steve," El says, turning to him. "When it is weaker, I might be able to help?"

"That's ok," Steve quickly reassures her. "I will be ok. I know how to take care of myself."

"What?" El tilts her head, confused.

"Kid, you're staying here," the man says.

"No, Hopper," Robin cuts in, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. "I'm gonna take care of him. He's, like, my soulmate! And he likes me!"

"Woah, hold on," Dustin says. "That's not fair! He's my family!"

They continue to argue for an hour. It's mostly playful, but Steve kind of likes it. He's never had anyone fight over him before.

"He is staying here," Eddie finally speaks up, when it looks like the man- Hopper- is about to explode. "Neither of you two have thought of a single excuse for your parents. And you can't leave him in that big house on his own. He's safer here."

"Oh, fuck," Robin suddenly jerks upright. "What the hell do I tell Keith?"

Part Three

tag list for those who asked; @songbird-garden @str4wb3rry-guy @badcaseofcasey @lioniheart @irethsune @starry-eyedlune @newtstabber @messrs-weasley @vesme @penny00dreadful

[catharusustulatus]

Steve has never actually kissed anyone on New Year’s Eve before. After he and Nancy reconciled post-Demogorgon showdown in 83 they’d gotten close, but Mike had interrupted them on the Wheeler’s front porch, the little shit. And after Nancy, well, he’d been alone in 84. In 85, he and Robin built a blanket fort in his living room and drank themselves sick on root beer until the ball dropped, and he’d held her hand while they drifted asleep, kissing out of the question; he loved her in a different, deeper way.

And now…now it’s 86, about to be 87, and Eddie is alive, miraculously, and all of them are gathered in the new Hopper-Byers house, and Eddie has been flirting with him ever since Steve manhandled his mangled body to the hospital, Steve’s an idiot but he’s not stupid, and here’s Eddie looking at him like Steve is alive, too. Eddie looks at him and something awakens. There’s an electricity in the air, the kind he told Dustin about once upon a time in the woods.

So when he knows no one is watching, he looks Eddie deep in the eye and says “share a smoke?” And they leave the room together for the quiet cold of the backyard, still mostly weeds and the dark of winter and Steve can see Eddie’s breath. Can see how alive he is. He’s been worried about him all year, intrigued by him, pulled toward. And now here they are. The dim patio bulb flickers and before Steve can get out a cig, can say another word, before he can say “happy new year Eddie I can’t stop thinking about you and I know you’ve been flirting with me for months and I want you I want you just as bad will you kiss me?” Eddie is already kissing him.

And it’s soft. It’s so soft, because Eddie is smiling against his mouth in a kiss, his left hand coming up to hold Steve’s chin. And then it’s hotter, their breath mixing as they both open their mouths wider, kissing deeper, feeling their lips move together and Steve can’t believe it can’t think can’t hear the screen door open can’t stop kissing Eddie until he feels Eddie pull away, removing his hands from his hair, hears Robin say “uh, earth to dingus one and two, hello!?”

Steve just stares at Eddie, blushing and smiling. He doesn’t turn to her, can’t look away when he says “hi Rob.” Eddie won’t look away either. Eddie won’t look away from him, does the opposite, grabs Steve’s hand. Steve feels like he’s floating.

“Oh my god, lover boys. It’s only” Steve sees her lift her wrist in his peripheral vision, “ten thirty. It’s only ten thirty and you’re already kissing!” He can hear her exasperation, but beneath he knows, he can feel her approval. He can’t help it, he’s relieved. He’s happy. He starts to giggle.

Eddie starts to laugh too, pulling Steve closer. Steve finally looks over to see Robin rolling her eyes, but she’s also beaming, her face lit by the single bulb, and they pull her down to them, hug her, kiss her on the cheeks. “Ah, my freckled friend. You won’t spill the beans, will you?” Eddie asks.

Robin pinches Eddie’s cheek. “Your secret’s safe with me, hotshot.” Steve knows down to his bones it’s true. Knows she’ll cover for them. This makes him feel even giddier. “I’ll, uh. Let you two get back to it” she says, and then she’s gone, and it’s just Eddie looking at him again, staring at Steve like he’s a second moon, a pretty thing.

They kiss and kiss and kiss, until they slide out of the grass and out the back gate and kiss their way back to Steve’s car, into his house and bed and heart and it’s already a good year.

[ihni]

The sound of the doorbell is what wakes him. The morning sun is shining in through the window, hitting the messy curls on the pillow next to him and making them shine like gold. The sight makes him smile, and his first instinct is to reach over and brush the curls away from his boyfriend’s face. There’s nothing better than getting to watch him wake up, after all; watch those blue eyes flutter open and squint against the light.

The doorbell rings again before he can act on his urge, though. It is followed by loud knocking, which rouses the body next to Steve; unfortunately in a less peaceful way than Steve had imagined. Billy’s eyes shoot open and he tenses as he immediately takes in where he is, and with who. Wide, blue eyes meet Steve’s.

“Shit!” he says and is halfway out of bed before Steve can even react, pulling a shirt – Steve’s, not that it matters – over his head. “It’s Neil!”

Steve has just opened his mouth to protest, say that it’s not – it can’t be, Neil doesn’t know about them – when there’s a knock again, and an angry man’s voice drifts up from outside.

And it is indeed Neil’s voice.

Shit.

Steve jumps out of bed too and nabs for the other shirt that’s been discarded on the floor – but no, no, he can’t show up at the door wearing Billy’s shirt, he can’t, so he drops it again before hurrying to his closet. He pulls on an old T-shirt, and then whirls around and grabs Billy’s face between his hands. Billy’s face, which has gone ashen with fear.

“Stay here,” Steve says. “I’ll get rid of him. It’ll be okay.”

He turns and walks out of the room, squaring his shoulders as he goes. In his periphery, he sees Heather’s head peek out of the guest room that she and Robin stumbled into late last night while blushing and giggling, but he ignores her as he makes his way to the stairs.

The knocking and shouting continues, sending equal measures of anger and fear down Steve’s spine. How did the man know to come here? Billy said he’d told him that he was going to a party last night; said that he wasn’t even given a curfew. The man would have had no reason to suspect that the party was in fact a very private affair at Steve’s place, with just him and Billy and Robin and Heather – a safe place, as all of them knew about each other’s preferences by now – and definitely would have had no reason to show up on Steve’s doorstep this early in the morning. As far as Steve knows, Billy’s dad doesn’t even know Steve by name, and shouldn’t know where he lives.

He’s halfway down the stairs when a hand grasps his arm.

“Don’t,” Billy says, voice shaking. Steve turns – he’s standing a step below Billy, so he has to look up to face him – and sees that Billy’s shaking his head. “Don’t open the door.”

He’s scared, Steve realizes. Really scared.

From outside the door, they can now make out Neil’s angry words between the bouts of knocking. “I know he’s in there! Open the door. William!”

Billy is just standing there, still holding on to Steve’s arm. His eyes are big and pleading. He’s obviously terrified, and it feels so wrong. No one who has fought monsters with the same fervor as Billy should ever have to be scared of a mere human.

A calm settles over Steve, followed by resolve. He gently extricates himself from Billy’s grip – ignoring the way Billy trembles – and says, “Don’t worry. I won’t let him hurt you again.”

He continues down the stairs, but Billy shoulders past him and blocks his way. Puts both hands on Steve’s chest and pushes. “I don’t care if he hurts me,” he hisses. “But he’s dangerous.” The man yells some threats from the other side of the door and knocks again. Rattles the door handle for emphasis, this time. Billy flinches and looks over his shoulder before continuing, “I don’t want him to hurt you.”

“He’s not going to hurt me,” Steve says. He doesn’t know that for sure, but he can’t imagine it. This is his house, or, well, his parents’. Neil is the one who’s trespassing. And Steve knows the Chief of Police.

He walks past his boyfriend and crosses the hall. A hand lands on his shoulder again. Not forcing him to stop or trying to hold him back; just there. Imploring.

“Please,” Billy begs, and it pierces Steve’s heart like a knife because Billy doesn’t beg.

Billy, acting like this, is not right. The man on the other side of the door has brought Billy too much pain already. This has to end. And that end starts now. By getting rid of the immediate threat.

They’ll figure out the rest later.

Steve walks on. Stops in front of the door and only then realizes that Billy’s standing there with him, still with a hand on his shoulder. He’s watching Steve with big, wet eyes and shaking his head silently. Don’t do this, he doesn’t say out loud. Please, just ignore him.

But Steve can’t. Not this time. Not when the man is ranting on his doorstep on a Saturday morning, threatening to break in. Not when Billy’s standing here next to Steve, shaking with terror.

Billy is not getting hurt by that man in Steve’s house. If Neil tries to set one foot inside, Steve will kill him.

Steve reaches for the door, and with his other hand, he pushes Billy up against the wall just inside the door. Close enough to touch, but out of sight of his irate father. He can feel Billy’s heart beat frantically under his hand, and silently vows that this is the last time. This is the last time Billy is afraid.

He breathes in deeply and takes a second to slip into spoiled rich-boy mode. Then he opens the door.

“What?” he drawls, unimpressed. He gives the man outside a contemptuous look. The man draws himself up to say something, but Steve doesn’t let him speak. “Do you know what time it is? It’s Saturday, man. Some people are trying to sleep.”

Neil Hargrove is proper; not a hair out of place. It’s the first thing Steve thinks as he sees him up close – he has seen the man from a distance at times and listened in on the occasional phone call between him and Billy, but Billy has never let Steve even get close to the house on Cherry Lane when he knows that his dad is home.

The man is of average build and doesn’t look particularly dangerous from an outsider’s point of view, but there’s something cold in his eyes that sends shivers of fear down Steve’s spine when he’s pinned under Neil’s gaze. He doesn’t let his discomfort show, though; just lets the man take in Steve’s appearance fully – his messy hair, the way he’s just wearing a shirt and underwear, and how he’s obviously just got out of bed – and waits for him to speak.

“I know he’s here,” Neil growls – actually growls, like an animal. Steve sees movement out of the corner of his eye but doesn’t dare glance to where Billy’s huddling up against the wall. Instead he leans against the side of the door, placing himself more firmly between Billy and his dad.

He has seen the bruises on Billy’s skin and he has hated that he has to let Billy go back to that house time and again, but this is the first time he truly sees what Billy faces at home. He thinks, idly, that he won’t be able to let Billy go back there again.

“What are you talking about?” he asks, and tries to make it sound as if he thinks the man isn’t all there in the head. By the way Neil’s face turns darker, he succeeds.

“My son, William. I know he’s here.”

“William,” Steve deadpans, as if it’s a word he has never uttered before. He raises one eyebrow. “Look, there’s no William here, man. You’ve got the wrong address. Go yell at someone else’s door. Or don’t, I don’t care. Just go away.”

He starts to close the door, but Neil’s hand shoots out and stops him. He doesn’t move to go inside, but he’s holding the door without letting it close, and staring at Steve with narrowed eyes. A challenge. A threat.

“I’m not leaving without my son.”

So that’s how it’s going to be, huh?

Steve draws himself up and narrows his own eyes as he stares back. He manages to dial back on the disgust, but some of it must shine through because he can feel himself sneering. “Who are you again?” he asks. Flippantly.

“My name is Neil Hargrove,” Neil says, pronouncing every syllable with obvious annoyance. Good. “And my son, William –“

“You mean Billy?” Steve says, letting surprise color his voice. “You’re Billy’s dad?” He doesn’t let the man answer, instead he lets out an incredulous laugh. “You think Billy is here?”

“His car is parked down the road,” Neil seethes, and oh. “You’re on the basketball team with him. And I know what he’s like. He’s a dirty little faggot who –“

Steve lets his face shut down. Slips on the mask that he has seen on his parent’s faces on many occasions during boring parties and work functions. The ‘do you know who I am’ persona. His voice is ice cold when he speaks.

“I’m not sure what you are insinuating, Mr. Hargrove, but if I were you, I’d stop talking.” Something like uncertainty flickers in Neil’s eyes. Steve drinks it in. “I don’t know if you know my parents –“ He nods to the brass plaque next to the door with ‘Harrington’ etched into it “– but I’m sure they won’t be too impressed when they hear that some lunatic showed up at their door on a Saturday morning, accusing their only son of being …” He holds Neil’s eye. Can’t – won’t – say the word the man used, not with Billy behind the door. “… a deviant.”

Disgust is dripping from his voice – disgust over this sorry excuse for a human, disgust over the fact that he has to deal with this at all – but that lends him credibility in this particular instance. He sounds just like an offended rich boy. An offended rich boy with influence.

As if on cue – which it most likely is, since Steve suspects that the girls have been listening in for some time now – there are soft steps behind him on the stairs, and Robin’s voice drifts out from behind him, “Steve? What’s going on?”

He lets the door open just a little bit wider under the guise of turning around, allowing Neil Hargrove to see Robin. Robin, whose hair is also sleep-mussed, and who is wearing an oversized button-up shirt. It’s not Steve’s – she must have taken it from his dad’s closet – but Neil doesn’t know that. She paints a perfect picture of a confused girlfriend who just woke up to the sounds of yelling, and Steve is so grateful that he’s friends with her.

“Nothing, baby,” he says, softening his voice. “Go back to bed.”

Robin hesitates with one more look at Neil. Licks her lips, as if she’s worried. “Should I … call someone? The police, or …?”

Perfect. Thank you for the assist, Robin.

“No, there’s no need to bother Jim this early in the morning,” Steve says, making sure to use Hopper’s first name, and turns back to face Neil. Neil, whose face has paled. Who has possibly started to realize that he may have messed up. Steve gives him a stiff smile and lets his voice go cold again as he continues, “Mr. Hargrove here was just leaving. Isn’t that right, Mr. Hargrove?”

Too proud or too angry to say it out loud, the man just gives a jerky nod and steps back. Steve will take it, as long as he leaves.

Starting to close the door again, Steve sneaks one glance at Billy’s pale face an arms-length away, and adds, in a sudden bout of inspiration.

“Oh, and if you’re looking for Billy in Loch Nora –“ He gives Neil, who’s half-turned to leave, a slow once-over, showing just enough disdain to make it clear that someone like Neil Hargrove doesn’t belong in this part of town, “– then I suggest you try the Holloways next. I think I saw him with their daughter Heather at the party last night.” He gives a sardonic little smile at the way Neil Hargrove’s face shutters. Everyone’s heard of the Holloways, just as everyone’s heard of the Harringtons. “I’m sure Tom and Janet will appreciate being disturbed on a Saturday morning just as much as I have. Who knows, it might get you a mention in the Post.”

With that, he shuts the door in Neil Hargrove’s face and locks it, and turns to his wide-eyed boyfriend. Who hasn’t moved from his space behind the door.

He ignores both Robin running out into the kitchen on silent feet – probably to make sure that Neil Hargrove actually leaves – and Heather coming downstairs, in favor of putting his hands on the sides of Billy’s face and lean in so their foreheads are touching. Billy is shivering and his breaths are uneven, but he reaches up and grabs at Steve’s wrist and the back of his head with something akin to desperation.

“I can’t believe you,” he whispers. “You’re crazy.”

“Crazy about you,” Steve says, and is rewarded with a shaky little laugh.

“Shit,” Billy breathes. “I was so scared, Steve. I thought he was gonna –”

“But he didn’t.”

They stand there for a little while, just looking at each other. Holding each other and breathing each other’s air. Gradually, Billy’s tremors subside. His heart rate slows.

Eventually, Robin comes back into the hall and announces, “He’s gone. Got in his car and left.” She adds, pointedly, “Didn’t look like he was heading for the Holloways’, either.”

Steve looks at her and then drifts his eyes over to Heather, who’s sitting on the second to last step on the stairs, looking at them with one eyebrow raised. He winces. “Yeah … uh, sorry about that, I guess. I should have asked first.”

“You should,” Heather agrees. “But you didn’t, which means that you owe me one.” She looks between Steve and Billy and says, “I would have agreed if you’d asked, but you know. You still owe me.”

Steve laughs. Heather turns to Billy and points one well-manicured finger at him. “So I guess we’re dating now, you and I. I hope you know that I expect to be wooed.”

After Billy gives her a little salute, she nods and turns to Robin. Smiles lewdly as she takes in her appearance in the oversized shirt. “You look good in that,” she says, biting her lip. “Let’s see what other fun clothes we can find in that closet.”

The girls disappear up the stairs, giggling. Steve has a suspicion that his parents’ closet are going to be in complete disarray soon, but can’t bring himself to care. It’s a small price to pay.

“Do you want to go back to bed, too?” Steve asks, and belatedly realizes what it sounds like. “To sleep some more, I mean!” he adds. Because a Neil Hargrove scare first thing in the morning is probably not exactly a turn-on. “Or do you want breakfast? I can make breakfast. We have –“

“I want to go back to bed,” Billy says, thankfully cutting off the rambling.

“Okay,” Steve says and reaches out for his hand. When Billy’s hand slots into his, is it perfectly steady. No more tremors. “Okay, let’s do that.”

But Billy shakes his head. “I don’t wanna sleep, though.”

“… no?”

Billy’s looking at him through his lashes – his ridiculously long lashes, which he knows is Steve’s Kryptonite – and gives a small smile.

“Not gonna lie, babe. That was a terrifying experience. But …” He takes a step closer, brushes the lightest of kisses against Steve’s lip before leaning in and whispering in his ear, “… the way you shut him down like that, that was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”

Then he abruptly turns and sashays away, but not before giving Steve’s butt a quick squeeze as he passes.

He stops at the bottom of the stairs with one hand on the bannister, and looks over his shoulder all seductively. “You coming?”

Oh, Steve is coming, all right.

He chases Billy up the stairs. (And this time, when he catches him, he’ll hold onto him and never let him go back to that house again.)

[helpimstuckposting]

I love buckingham and ronance as much as the next girl but my favorite dynamic is without a doubt qpr stobin who live together no matter who they’re dating. Like, sorry but in my world Robin and Steve Do Not live separately, any girlfriend Robin has WILL just move in with them and if they want kids then they’ll move to a bigger place. “Robin and Nancy’s place” or “Robin and Chrissy’s place” is just a bedroom down the hall qpr stobin for life

[moonstruckme]

so requests are open again, can i así for a Robin fic where she tries to ask Reader out but she is really nervous and all cute?

Thanks for requesting babe!

Robin Buckley x fem!reader ♡ 1.1k words

You have no idea how Robin managed to get Keith to let three of you work the Saturday shift, but you owe her your life for it. 

Normally, you end up by yourself, uneventful weekday nights where you organize and reorganize the clearance section, talking to yourself since the last time you brought a book and Keith’s boss caught you on the cameras you got chewed out. 

Robin and Steve have a routine of their own. They pulled a hidden stock of snacks out of the break room, gossipped about who had borrowed what movies for how long and what that meant, made up ridiculous life stories for the customers that came in. Then Dustin had come over and Robin had relegated the boys to the back room. You like Steve, but you’re not mad about it; having Robin all to yourself makes your stomach do flips like it does on a rollercoaster. 

“Okay,” she says in a low voice, eyes tracking a customer who’s just wandered into the teen section. You’ve hopped up on the counter, sitting with your back to the door and your legs dangling, and her elbow is about three inches from touching your thigh. “The guy in the tank top. What do we think about him?” 

“He looks like he just rolled out of bed.” Which isn’t unreasonable, because it’s only ten. “Who comes to rent a movie first thing in the morning?” 

“Someone desperate,” Robin agrees. You’re both leaning in as you talk in near-whispers, but that distance between her arm and your leg stays. 

You hum. “He could have kids.” 

“Does he really look like someone who has kids?” 

“I don’t know what people who have kids look like. I guess there’s probably a variety.” 

“Fair…” She kisses her teeth as she watches him, big eyes narrowed sneakily. “I don’t know, I think he’s horny.” 

Your laugh is so loud and sudden you have to clamp a hand over your mouth. A customer browsing near you gives you an odd look, and you murmur an apology. Robin looks delighted. 

“Why would you think that?” you hiss at her. “He’s just looking for a movie.” 

Her expressions turns sheepish, complete with a cute half-smile that makes your brain buzz distractingly. “It’s possible I have some information you don’t.” 

You lean back on your hands and tilt your head, looking at her curiously. 

Robin leans in close. “He rented Fast Times five days ago and hasn’t returned it.” 

Her eyes are sparkling with amusement. With great effort you tear your gaze from them, looking past her at the man. “Oh,” you say, “yeah, I see it. He looks like he hasn’t shaved in days. I’ll bet he’s been locked in his mom’s basement watching the pool scene on repeat.” 

She turns her head down toward your leg to hide a smile, and her laugh tickles down your spine like a grazing touch. You have to trap your bottom lip between your teeth to keep your own grin from getting too out of hand. 

“This is fun,” you blurt. Or, it feels like a blurt, but Robin doesn’t seem to note your abruptness, only turning her eyes up to yours curiously. “Hanging out, I mean. I wish we worked the same shifts more often.” 

“Yeah, I—it is fun.” Robin’s smile gets a funny look to it, her gaze flitting down to the counter. “I’d rather work with you than Steve anytime. Not that you’re, like, only just better than Steve, obviously you’re tons better than him, I just meant that—Steve, he’s actually not terrible, I mean he’s probably my best friend, and he and I hang out outside work all the time, so—” She presses her lips together as if physically stopping herself. You chew your bottom lip. “Basically, I like hanging out with you even more than him, which is…not as low a bar as you might think.” 

“I don’t think that’s a low bar,” you say through a smile. “Steve seems cool.”

She scoffs. “He’s not. Don’t let him think you think that.” 

“He seems nice, I mean. Nicer than he was in high school.” 

“Exactly.” Robin lifts her stare to yours again, something like relief in it. “Yeah, he’s…better. He, like, had a spiritual change or something.” 

“Maybe he found good influences.” You nudge her leg with the toe of your shoe. She makes a scratchy laughing sound, looking away from you again. 

“We hang out a lot outside of work,” she says.

“You mentioned that.” 

“We could try that.” 

You blink, her candor cutting through the light and flirty feeling you’ve fallen into like a knife. 

“You and me?” 

“Yeah.” Her eyes find yours. “Like, if you wanted to hang out more, we don’t have to—I mean, we could, totally, we just don’t have to—do it here. At the store.” Her throat bobs so quick you almost miss it. Your chest feels tight, but not entirely unpleasantly. “We could go to the movies, or to get pizza, or to the roller rink—I don’t actually really know what you like to do, but you have to like movies, right? We could definitely watch a movie.”

There’s a commotion in your stomach. You want to look down and check again the distance between her arm and your thigh, but for some reason now it feels like too much of a risk. “Like, with Steve?” you ask. 

Robin’s nose wrinkles. “Definitely not with Steve.” 

“So, just us.” 

In the corner of your eye, you see her hands flex on the countertop. “If you want,” she says quietly. 

You wet your lips. When you take a second too long to answer, she goes on, “Or we could totally invite other people, if that’s what you want to do.” 

“No,” you say quickly. “Just us is…is good.” 

“Really?” Robin sounds so surprised you can’t help but smile. She smiles back, tentatively, like she’s not one-hundred percent sure if she’s in on the joke but she’s happy if you’re happy. 

“Yeah.” You lower your voice, glancing around the store. You’d nearly forgotten you were in public. You think for a second you catch Steve looking, but he directs his stare to the movies he’s organizing, smiling to himself and waving off something Dustin’s said. “I’m not doing anything tomorrow, if you want to see what’s showing then.” 

Robin grins, huge and heart-stutteringly pretty. It shows all her teeth and little lines shoot out from her eyes like rays of sunshine. “Do you like thrillers?” 

“Sure.” No. 

She leans forward conspiratorially, and it takes every ounce of willpower you possess not to look down when you feel her skin make contact with the side of your thigh. Your heart starts beating hummingbird fast. “Perfect.” 

[ddejavvu]

m.list - robin buckley

blurbs:

robin is too shy to ask you out

robin wears the crafts you make her

robin and steve take turns with you | 2

robin and steve steal your clothes

you and robin scare steve

[flea-the-circus]

even if ronance isn’t endgame, i need nancy to have an arc where she chooses her friend. in my head, the only thing that makes sense is nancy choosing robin. not even in the romantic sense (although i would die of happiness if it was), just nancy remembering her choices and not making the same mistakes she made at sixteen.

having nancy go through four seasons of chasing/grieving/fighting for her best friend, only to turn her entire character into a plot device for steve or jonathan, would be the worst possible choice the duffers could make.

[lily-fics-11]

Robin’s Jacket

Inspired by a combination of prompts from @novelbear and @creativepromtsforwriting

*not beta read

cw: teen+

(This is my first attempt at writing something a little spicy so let me know what you think)

You turn off you car after pulling into Robin’s driveway. You were planning on sitting and waiting for her, but you see her open her window and it looks like she is saying something. You can’t hear her from inside your car so you open the door and get out.

“Come upstairs, I need your help with something. The door is open!” She calls out to you. “I’ll be right up!” You call back.

When you enter her house no one greets you like her parents normally do so she must be home alone.

A wave of nerves crashes over you. The two of you haven’t been alone since everything changed last week.

You and Robin like to hang out at the park and listen to music most Saturdays during the day before meeting up with the rest of your friends in the evening. But it was raining last week so you had to switch up your plans. The two of you had gone back and forth on what to do and you settled on going to the mall. You needed a new pair of Vans anyways.

The mall is always crowded on the weekend, making it difficult to navigate through the throngs of people. When it came time to cross through the food court it was overrun with mall goers. Robin tends to get lost and distracted in crowds so you figured you would take her hand and drag her through to keep her on course. “Follow me,” You tell her and you lace your fingers through hers. When your skin made contact with Robin’s you felt what you could only describe as a shock of electricity surge through you. You know she felt it too by the way your eyes met, searching for a way to understand the feeling that the connection gave you. You held each other’s gaze for a moment but you panicked and turned away, repeating your instruction for her to follow you.

Ever since that moment thoughts of Robin have filled your head. “What is this feeling?” You asked yourself. “What does this mean?” After thinking things over you realized that a crush on Robin had hit you like a tidal wave. Robin was your best friend, the person you felt closest to in the world. But she is also beautiful like nobody’s business. And now that you are thinking about it, she checks off every item on your list of what you want in a partner.

As you climb the stairs all of the interactions you’ve had with Robin over the last week flicker through your mind. After the mall that night Robin had accidentally hip checked Nancy trying to get a spot next to you on the couch. Where everyone sits at your lunch table never stays the same, but in the last week you have found yourself next to Robin every day. No matter what room the two of you were in your bodies are always angled towards eachother. You have made more eye contact with Robin in the past week than you ever have before. You haven’t talked about it, but the two of you have been communicating without words and you didn’t even realize it until now.

You take a deep breath and try to settle your thoughts as you pass through the doorway. You are met with Robin beaming at you. You are sure you are smiling back at her just as brightly.

Robin is sitting on her bed, legs crossed, surrounded by school stuff. “Can you check and see if I did this problem right?” She asks. “I want to make sure I know what I’m doing before the test this week.”

Robin was always asking you to check her work. Not because you were smarter than her. She was smarter than you, if anything, but she is always doubting herself.

“Of course, anything for you.” The last part just kind of slips out, you hadn’t meant to say it even though you were thinking it. You immediately focus your gaze on the notebook in Robins hand.

You join Robin on her bed, nerves blazing as you are forced to sit very close to her by the stuff all over the place. You lean over trying to get a better look at the page. Both your knee and your shoulder touch hers. You don’t fight it though, you settle in, yearning to get as close to her as you can.

You reach towards the notebook to take it from her but you are so distracted that instead of grabbing the notebook you grab Robin’s hand. You both look at each other, eyes wide, then back to the notebook. You notice that she doesn’t pull away so you decide to test your luck. You pull the notebook towards you but leave your hand on top of hers. It takes you longer to look over the problem than it should. Partially because you are distracted, partially because you are reveling in the moment of intimacy.

As you look over the problem Robin starts to ramble. “I’ve done this problem 3 times already and I got the same answer every time. But the teacher specifically said that there would be a problem like this one on the test so I have to make sure it’s perfect. I’m sure it’s fine but I just need confirmation that I’m doing this right, ya know? I wouldn’t want to risk my grade. I really appreciate you checking it over for me Y/N, you are the best.” She hesitates for a moment but Robin starts to go on about how even though she got an A on the last test and all of the homework she could still fail the next test and then she would never get into college. Robin cuts herself off when you look back at her after you finished scanning over her work.

“You,” you begin and stop dead in your tracks, “it” you correct yourself, “looks good.”

You are failing to hide how you feel behind your words and your body betrays you in the way that it is magnetically attracted to Robin’s.

You are embarrassed by the slip of your tongue. Your face is burning red as you quickly scramble off Robin’s bed, leaving her there in shock.

“Are you ready to go?” You ask, desperate to divert attention away from what just happened.

Robin stares at you for a moment before snapping out of it. She quickly puts down the notebook and gets up. She pulls a jacket off her desk chair and throws it on. She starts to walk towards you but then stops.

“What are you wearing?” Robin questions.

You look down at your outfit and assume she is referring to your ripped jeans.

You begin to defend your fashion choice, explaining “I know they aren’t nice or anything but we aren’t going anywhere fancy.”

Robin rolls her eyes. “I’m talking about your short sleeved shirt! It’s cold out, Y/N, you need to wear a jacket!”

You sigh. “I don’t have one with me and I’m not going to go all the way back to my house to get one.”

“We are going to be outside and I’m not going to let you freeze your ass off. You are going to wear one of my jackets.”

Before you can protest she is going through her closet and pulling out a denim jacket. She holds the jacket open in front of her and you realize she is going to help you put it on.

God, you are practically screaming on the inside. Not only will you be wearing Robin’s jacket, she is going to put it on you. You’ve been longing for this kind of intimacy all week, but it scares you too. You timidly approach her and the jacket and turn so that you can slip your arms into the sleeves. Robin brushes your hair to the side so that she can settle the jacket over your shoulders. Her fingers brush your neck, practically setting your skin on fire. She smooths down the collar. You let yourself have a moment to take in Robin’s scent. It’s not only carried by her jacket but she is close enough that it’s all around you.

You turn around to say “let’s go”, taking a few steps while walking backwards.

“Wait,” Robin instructs you so you stop moving and let her approach you. Robin is standing close to you when she starts to button the jacket. She starts from the bottom button and works her way up. But she never looks down, even when she fumbles over one of the buttons. She maintains eye contact with you the entire time.

Your breathes are deep and shaky.

When Robin finishes with the last button her hands linger there for a moment, still holding on to the jacket. One of her hands slides over to your shoulder and the other up to your chin. You had been looking up at her with just your eyes but now she has lifted your face up towards hers. Robin is a few inches taller than you so her face is angled down towards you.

Robin shifts closer, as close as she can, your bodies pressed up against each other.

Her focus drifts away from your eyes to your lips. Her gaze lingers on your lips for a moment before glancing back up to your eyes, asking for permission to give your lips more attention. Your hands had remained by your side but without hesitation they find themselves on Robin. One hand settled on Robin’s waist and the other on the back of her neck so that you can pull her face to yours and close the only distance remaining between you. Robin’s lips touch yours softy at first but she quickly deepens the kiss. Goosebumps race over your skin as fast as your heart is pounding in your chest. Your mouths seem to fit together like puzzle pieces, as if they were made for each other.

Your hand slides down from Robin’s neck to the small of her back. You pull back from Robin and she takes a deep shaky breath. Your lips don’t spare a moment reconnecting, you place gentle kisses along her jaw then move down to her neck. The soft kisses grow hungrier as you nip at her.

“Y/N,” Robin mumbles in your ear. You can feel her hot breath on your skin. Her voice sounds raspier than it usually does and it sends a wave of heat through your body. A tight knot forms in your stomach.

You can’t help but detach yourself so you can take a moment to look up at Robin and admire how beautiful she is. Her pupils are dilated and she looks a little dazed, but she is smiling at you.

You notice over Robin’s shoulder that her closet door is closed so you place one hand on her chest and you give her a gentle push to tell her to back up. She tangles a hand in your hair and pulls you with her. You look her right in the eye and smirk.

As she slowly steps backwards, holding your gaze, Robin tells you “I don’t think I feel like going to the park.”

Then right before you reach the closet Robin spins you around in one quick maneuver and you find your back against the door.

“Babe, we aren’t going anywhere,” you ensure her before grabbing her shirt and pulling her in for another kiss.

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

I was just thinking about how I apparently have the same taste in women as my dad. Can you imagine Steve finding out his parents have a lavender marriage? Also, imagine him flipping his lid when he realizes his dad's taste in men kind of looks like Eddie and his mom's taste in women kind of look like Nancy. Robin, who found out at the same time, was there too. He turns to her.

"Robin!" He squeaked. "I have the same taste in people as my parents!"

Meanwhile, Robin is on the floor laughing her ass off. She sat up for a moment, gasping for breath as tears came, and pointed at him. She collapsed back on the floor, still pointing.

"Robin! This isn't funny!" Steve squawked.

"It's a little funny," Eddie said, snickering.

Oh, yeah, Eddie was there too.

"Eddie, if my dad was younger, he would go for you!" He yelped.

"And I would be very flattered, but baby, you're the only Harrington I want," Eddie replied. "There's nothing to be jealous of."

"I'm not jealous! I'm freaking out!" Steve said. "We. Have. The. Same. Taste."

John Harrington came waltzing into the living room, whistling.

"You want a scotch, son?" John said. "A nice glass of scotch always calms me down."

"No, I do not want a scotch, dad," Steve bitched at him. "I hate scotch."

"See, now, there's something," John said. "Your mother and I both love scotch. We don't have exactly the same tastes. Now, if you want to, you can have the house to yourself. There's a nice bar in Indie your mother and I like to go to."

"Is it the one with all the goofy shit on the walls?" Eddie asked.

"Yes!"

"Robin and Steve like to go there too!" Eddie said, and Steve slapped a hand to his face.

"Well, we're just going to get out of your hair. Edward, don't get my son pregnant. His mother isn't ready to be a grandmother yet," John said and walked out of the room, waving at them.

"I LOVE your dad," Eddie cackled.

"I thought you said that I had nothing to worry about," Steve scowled and threw a pillow at him.

"You know, your mother kind of looks like Robin," Eddie said, scrunching up his nose.

"Does this mean that we're destined to have a lavender marriage of our own and have a turkey baster baby too?!" Robin exclaimed with a gasp. "Because I'm telling you right now I am not pushing your big headed baby out of my vagina!"

"Well, if you give me your gender, Buckley, I would gladly do it myself!" Eddie exclaimed. "It's really very selfish of you."

Robin glared mockingly at him before hitting him with a pillow, which resulted in a pillow fight. Steve rolled his eyes at the ceiling.