#Ronance fic

[ronanceautistic]

WE ARE SO BACK

Originally conceptualised by @/lionydoorin, now hosted (with permission) by yours truly! Happy Ronancetober 2024, gang!

For any form of media. Feel free to bend the prompts however you like, the most important part is having fun :) Tag your works with #ronancetober to share your work with other people.

Prompts:

Day 1. Ghost

Day 2. Woods

Day 3. Dead

Day 4. Historical or Mythical

Day 5. Blood

Day 6. Action Movie

Day 7. Possession

Day 8. Free Day!

Day 9. Body / Outfit Swap

Day 10. Time

Day 11. Autumn

Day 12. Upside Down

Day 13. Fantasy

Day 14. Apocalypse

Day 15. Trick or Treat!

[carriedawatermelon]

Doing some little kinktober ficlets because why not. Please find the first installment of soft Ronance filth, which in this case is not actually that filthy, below.

Prompt: Seven Minutes in Heaven

Someone bumps into Nancy for about the hundredth time, a shoulder jostling her own near the wall of the living room, which Nancy uses to brace herself. At least the girl—Megan, third grade, sixth grade, a few years of ballet and most recently, second period US history—apologizes, genuinely. 

“Sorry, Nancy. Too many people.”

“Too many people,” Nancy agrees and tries for a smile, which maybe works as she gets one in return. 

And there are too many people, and there’s too much noise, and Nancy knows the occasional, protesting throbbing behind her eyes is going to become a full-fledged headache soon, but still, she stays. She stays and makes her way successfully out of the living room and into the kitchen. It’s still too crowded but only with people moving through, grabbing beer and whatever godawful punch is on the counter as they pass into the backyard or the living room or the den, where a whole other mass of bodies has congregated to talk and flirt and try to pretend like this is a normal week-before-graduation party. 

It’s why she’s still here, that last part. Because it’s the week before graduation, and she’d been sitting with Hopper and Steve talking logistics two days ago and realized that the enthusiastically offered invitation from Becky, who like Megan, she’d known for most of her life and also hardly knew at all, would be the last one she ever got. Shit, she’d thought, absently correcting Hopper’s patrol map to accommodate for the newest construction. Shit, this is it. 

She’d had that thought many times over the last few years, in a life-or-death way. It was jarring, to have it in the way she was supposed to, in the way that pretty much every other teenager in Hawkins and if John Hughes was right, everywhere else in America, had it, too. 

“Steve, switch with me for Friday,” she’d said, and he’d done it, and now Nancy is leaning against a kitchen counter, wincing as something lukewarm soaks through the back of her pale yellow button-down and watching as her classmates do exactly what they should be doing the week before summer break. 

She doesn’t feel angry that they’re pretending, the way she had with Steve. Well. She does feel angry. She always feels angry. But for the most part, it’s not with the people around her. For the most part, it’s on their behalf. On Barb’s behalf. On her own, even, when she can let herself. 

They’ve all suffered. They’re the ones who stayed or came back, the crowded party at this point consisting of most of what remains of Hawkins High, grade irrelevant. Nobody is trying to kick anyone out, and nobody’s policing the door. 

As of about two weeks ago, curfew had been lifted. Officially, the army finally managed to secure the area after the earthquake. Unofficially, El had demolished a weakened Vecna, the party offering her backup in the real world and the upside-down and the space in between. The work that’s left is still left, but it’s eliminating stragglers and maintaining vigilance, and El and Will both have a kind of ease and confidence that makes the rest of them feel hopeful, that made Nancy feel like she could switch a patrol shift to Steve to go to a party. 

“Nancy,” someone shouts from the door of the kitchen. Ally, eyes bright with a plastic cup in one hand, shakes her shoulders. “Come play spin the bottle.”

In a small mercy, she’s being dragged toward the den before Nancy is forced to provide an answer, laughing an “Okay, okay, okay!” 

In a bigger mercy, her body is replaced by one that makes Nancy’s shoulders relax, a genuine smile break across her face. 

“I was going to ask if you wanted to sneak out back and smoke, but I’d hate to stop you from a game of spin the bottle with Hawkins High’s most eligible bachelors.”

Robin’s grin is big, her hands shoved into the pockets of her black jeans, an oversized green t-shirt tucked into the front under...Nancy’s favorite jean jacket. 

“Thief!” 

Robin’s grin grows. “Fair’s fair.”

And, well, Nancy can’t exactly argue. Robin’s black jacket is in her possession—currently neatly folded in the passenger seat of Nancy’s car—where it’s been since about two weeks after their first encounter with Vecna and where Nancy intends for it to remain until…until. 

She scowls anyway, pushing back from the counter and making her way to Robin, who stiffens for a second at Nancy’s hug before relaxing into it, wrapping her arms around Nancy’s shoulders and holding her close. The jacket smells like the detergent her mom uses and a little like Nancy’s perfume, but underneath is all Robin, lavender and cloves and the cigarettes her mom smokes. She can smell weed, too, and she pulls back a little to look up at Robin, who’s looking down at her with a faint blush. 

When Robin told her, fingers twisting and face paler than usual on the couch in her basement, that she likes girls, she’d put herself as physically far from Nancy as possible in the shared space. Nancy, heart broken as she listened to halting, stuttering sentences so far from the Robin she had grown used to, had tentatively scooted closer, lifting an arm in offer. Robin had hesitated for a second and then collapsed into her, crying while Nancy reassured her. Now, with Nancy’s constant encouragement, she’s getting better about touch, about initiating it and accepting it.

Of course, it is different now, but that’s Nancy’s fault. That’s because Nancy, as she has let herself admit for the past six or so weeks with increasing acceptance, wants to kiss her. She hasn’t yet and doesn’t now, but she does reach down and lace their fingers, tugging Robin toward the sliding door to the back. 

“There’s a Robin/robber pun here somewhere but I can’t quite get there,” she admits, happy to see that the crowd of their peers thins significantly after the deck.

Robin snorts, follows easily as Nancy begins pulling them past small groups of people and toward the grass. It makes her bristle, still, the relative quiet in the largely dark yard, and Robin squeezes her fingers like she understands, because she does. The house and the summer night give enough light to navigate well enough, and Nancy has her eyes on a set of lawn chairs that seem to have been abandoned by a group now moving back toward the house, but as she moves toward them Robin stops her. 

Her grin is pulled up at the side as she looks from Nancy to a tree with a tire swing and a set of boards nailed to its trunk. Nancy sighs, and Robin moves toward them, grinning, letting go of Nancy’s hand to pull at the steps and look up at the tree house. 

“Robin. No.”

“What?” She says, in a terrible attempt at guilelessness. 

“You know what.”

“I don’t.” She says easily. “I don’t know what.”

She shades her eyes like that’ll help her see in the dark, and Nancy rolls her own, stomach swooping with affection, before reaching into her bag and pulling out a flashlight. 

When it clicks on, Robin looks back at her and bites her lip. “Nancy Wheeler. The Boy Scouts have got nothing on you.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Nancy says, like she isn’t about to indulge a terrible idea. “Investigation purposes, only, Buckley. We didn’t survive the upside-down so you could break yourself climbing a tree.”

“Totally, totally,” Robin responds, like she doesn’t know Nancy is about to indulge her terrible idea. “I’m just gonna investigate these first few steps and, uh…” When the first two hold, she looks down at Nancy happily and keeps climbing. 

“You have no sense of self-preservation,” she calls after her. “Ms. Delayed Walker.”

When she reaches the platform at the top, she pouts down at Nancy, features a blend of shadows in the strange light. “That’s really rude, Nance. I think you should come apologize.”

“You’re ridiculous,” Nancy says, already on the second plank, flashlight shining up from where she’s tucked it vertically in her purse. It catches Robin’s grin, and Nancy stares, feels like she’s falling with her hands securely gripped on the wood. Robin’s not the only one who’s ridiculous. 

She pulls herself into the plank next to Robin, who wraps an arm around her waist. It’s reflex maybe, because the platform is small, and Nancy sees the flash of panic across her face so she leans into Robin’s body before she can pull away, hand moving to hold Robin’s against her. 

“If we fall out of a tree before graduation, I’m going to be so pissed at you.”

Robin laughs, squeezing her, and then begins scooting back, Nancy releasing her so she can make her way into the little house behind them. For all her talk, she wouldn’t be up here if she didn’t think it were sturdy. The climbing planks are relatively new, wood stained and smoothed against splinters, so she suspected the house would be, too, and she’s pleased to find that she’s right.

It’s big for a tree house, and tall enough that Nancy can almost stand comfortably, bent just a little to explore, fingers on the cross beams below the roof so she doesn’t bump her head. There’s a little table shoved into one corner, a window in each wall where she can see that the little platform they landed on extending around the house like a porch. When she turns around, Robin has made herself comfortable on some cushions against the back wall, a pink floral print that looks like maybe it was stolen from lawn furniture. She has a joint in one hand and pats the seat next to her before reaching into her pocket (Nancy’s pocket) for a lighter. 

There’s a lantern hanging from a hook near her head, two candles inside and Robin lights them as Nancy clicks off the flashlight and settles, close enough that their knees touch. Robin hands her the joint but keeps the lighter, and Nancy bumps her shoulder as she lights it. 

“Such a gentleman,” she says, before inhaling, and Robin rolls her eyes but blushes. 

Nancy doesn’t cough, though it’s still sometimes a close thing, the weed a post-Vecna addition to her life. It helps her relax and it doesn’t make her feel bad the way drinking does and it’s given her some of her favorite nights, sitting around smoking and talking and watching movies with Steve and Robin and Eddie and sometimes Jon or Vickie. 

She passes the joint back, and props herself back against the wall, lets herself look at the girl next to her as they smoke together for a little while, making aimless conversation. There’s something undeniably attractive about watching Robin smoke, the shape of it between her lips and the way they move as she pulls, the smoke that she exhales slowly, eyes exploring the little house. 

Eventually, Nancy asks, “How’re you feeling about next week?”

“Eh,” Robin offers along with another hit, which Nancy takes. “Weird. Fine. Nervous. Excited.” She brings her eyes back to Nancy, who smiles at her. “How ‘bout you?”

“Eh,” she echoes, and Robin pokes her gently. She’s warm, this close to Nancy, and she wants more, scoots closer, takes her hand and twines their fingers. Twirling the thick silver ring around Robin’s index finger, she feels Robin’s breath stutter, her own breath escaping with a happy sigh at their proximity. Robin mutes the joint and sets it against a Coke can. “Fine, I think. I feel good about what’s coming. Good about Chicago.” She squeezes at Robin’s fingers and Robin squeezes back. “Good about Chicago with you. I’m ready, I think. It’s not like…I didn’t exactly love,” she stops playing with the ring for a second and gestures out toward the yard, the house, “all of this. High school. You know.”

“Yeah,” Robin agrees. “Yeah, that’s for sure.”

Nancy presses closer, drops Robin’s hand in favor of wrapping it around her under her (Nancy’s) jacket, bullying her way into her side until Robin wraps an arm around her shoulders, laughing, thumb running a gentle up and down against her arm as they settle. 

“The ending hasn’t been so bad,” Robin says, pauses. 

Nancy can’t help but repeat, stoned and uncertain she’s heard correctly, “The ending hasn’t…” She can’t even finish, her voice cracking on what surely is a joke, and then they’re both cackling, clutching each other. 

“Dingus,” Nancy gasps, mostly in Robin’s lap now, and Robin groans. 

“I am. I’m a total dingus. ‘The ending hasn’t been so bad,’” she repeats, mocking herself, and Nancy tucks her head into her neck, laughing, Robin’s arms tight around her waist. “That’s what I get for trying to be smooth, I guess.” And then she shuts up so fast Nancy hears her jaw click. 

And maybe Nancy should be nervous, but instead all she feels is immensely pleased. “Oh?” She says, voice teasing as she pulls herself away, adjusting until she’s straddling Robin’s thighs. Robin looks terrified and also can’t stop staring at Nancy’s legs where they now bracket her own, eyes flitting between Nancy’s and their laps. Her hands are hovering at her sides, fingers opening and closing around nothing, and Nancy takes pity, full of smug affection as she takes them and puts them on her thighs. 

The noise Robin makes is something between a groan and a whimper, and it makes Nancy more than a little feral. 

“Trying to put the moves on me, Buckley?” She doesn’t try to hide the want in her voice as she lets her own hands settle on Robin’s neck, thumbs tracing the corners of her jaw. 

Robin finally holds her gaze, fingers spreading and squeezing at Nancy’s thighs. Nancy shivers. Robin squeezes harder. 

“Nancy.”

Robin’s lips are warm and waxy, the last of the vanilla chapstick she likes clinging on through their smoking. It’s perfect; she’s perfect, hands climbing to Nancy’s waist, where she holds her steady as she deepens the kiss, the taste of weed and lemonade and Robin filling Nancy up. 

“Nancy,” Robin says when they pull away, voice breathy. “What’s happening right now?”

The affection Nancy feels is almost violent, it’s so overwhelming, and she lets herself kiss Robin again, hard and quick. “Well,” she says. “You attempted one of the worst lines I’ve ever heard.” She keeps her tone teasing, and Robin closes her eyes and groans, head thudding against the wooden wall behind her. 

Nancy tsks, and Robin blinks open her eyes, blush in full force in the candlelight. She’s fucking gorgeous. 

“And it worked,” she says primly, moving a hand to Robin’s sternum, flattening her palm and feeling her breathe before tugging at the lapel of her (Nancy’s) jacket. “Because it appears I like you so much that I’m willing to overlook things like thievery and terrible come ons.” 

“You…you like me so much that…” And then she’s kissing Nancy again, less gently, and Nancy sighs approvingly, sucking at Robin’s bottom lip. Robin’s mouth moves to her neck, her hands shifting to Nancy’s hips to urge her closer, and she goes easily, moving a hand into Robin’s hair and moaning as her tongue and then her teeth find a spot that makes her hips cant.

“Fuck, Rob.” 

She pulls away, gasping, hands flexing on Nancy’s hips. 

“Do you…do you want…” She shakes her head, eyes closing, and Nancy kisses her gently. 

“I want to date you,” she says, watching as Robin’s eyes snap open. “I want to hold your hand while you talk to me about whatever the movie of the day is, and I want to fix your collars and leave lipstick on your cheek when I kiss you goodbye, and I want to ask you to stay over and have you know exactly what I mean.” 

“Yeah?” 

Her voice is small, almost scared, and Nancy channels as much love as she can into her own as she says, brushing a thumb over a beautiful cheekbone, “Yeah. Is that something you could want, too?”

“Yes.” A hand cups Nancy’s jaw. “I want that so much, Nance. I can’t even…I want you so much. I’m…it’s…” She laughs, running a hand through her hair. Nancy misses it. “Sorry, um, sorry. I just, I really can’t believe this is happening. Holy shit.” Her smile is wide, her eyes bright. “Nancy Wheeler wants to date me.”

Nancy laughs, tucks her hair back. She feels the flush in her own face and doesn’t hate it, for once. “Yeah, I really do.”

“You’re beautiful,” Robin says, and bites her lip. “Is that…I think it all the time, you know. Like, all the time. Like, yesterday when you got mad at that guy for turning without his blinker, and you made this face, and your lips did this thing, and all I could think was how gorgeous you were. And then tonight, when I showed up and you were leaning against the counter, and I could tell you were trying to figure out how you were gonna say no to Ally, you know, you have this, like, thinking face, and God, Nancy, all I wanted was to press you back against the counter and…”

She stops, catching herself, but Nancy wants none of that. “And what, Robbie?” She takes Robin’s hand and puts it back on her hip, greedy and pleased as she watches Robin’s eyes grow big, feels her fingers flex. “What did you want to do?”

She moans into the kiss, into the grip of Robin’s hands, letting her hips roll into the body pressed against hers. When her mouth moves to her neck again, kissing and sucking, Nancy throws her head back and holds Robin close. 

Hands move from her hips to the buttons of her shirt, tentative, and this had probably been the conversation Robin wanted to have earlier, about what Nancy wanted.

It takes an incredible amount of willpower but she manages to pull back, panting, tilting Robin’s face to meet hers. Because Nancy will absolutely let Robin fuck her in this treehouse, but Robin’s a virgin, and she deserves better than cramping hands with their clothes still on. Nancy has plans. 

“Come home with me.”

“Okay,” Robin agrees immediately, head bobbing eagerly, and Nancy grins, kissing her gently.

They tidy themselves as best they can, hands untangling as they reach the house again, and the party’s still in full swing, loud and bright and smelling like cheap beer and fruit punch. 

They pass by the group playing spin the bottle on their way out, a series of shouts coalescing into a chant as a couple is sent off to the closet for seven minutes in heaven. 

Robin shakes her head. “Nightmare,” she says under her breath, and Nancy laughs. 

“I don’t know.” She grins at Robin and uses the crowd as an excuse to grab her hand again, keep her close. “I feel like you’d find lots of jackets to steal.”

She doesn’t need to see her to know her eyes are rolling. “I would bet 20 of Steve’s dollars that my jacket will be in the passenger seat of your car when we get there. The hypocrisy is heavy, Nance.” 

“So, what?” She shrugs as they break through the front door, making their way to Nancy’s car up the block. “I like wearing my girlfriend’s jacket.”

It’s quiet, and Nancy’s worried for a second that she’s overstepped, but when she looks, she finds Robin staring at her with heat in her eyes, her jaw set. 

“I bet,” Robin says, looking around and keeping close to Nancy, voice low, “I bet you’d look great in that jacket and nothing else.”

Nancy swallows, stops as they reach the car. “Wanna find out?”

[eskawrites]

It’s 1979, and every day, Barb wears a dark purple bracelet around her wrist. It’s pretty, although a bit more basic than what Nancy would normally wear—just a simple band of woven fabric, and a little star charm dangling from the middle.

“Where’d you get it?” Nancy asks her one day out of the blue. She does that sometimes—asks people things without any lead up. Her mom tells her she’s inquisitive. Her dad just says she asks too many questions.

Barb never seems to mind. Over the last few weeks of getting to know each other, there’s never been a question that Barb isn’t happy to answer.

This one seems to make her sad, though. She holds her arm up and twists her wrist a little, watching the charm catch the light.

“It’s a friendship bracelet,” she says. Nancy is old enough to recognize the twinge of jealousy for what it is, but she isn’t quite old enough to understand why it’s there.

“With who?” she asks anyway.

This time Barb does hesitate. She looks around the middle school cafeteria, but they’re the only ones sitting at this end of the table, and the buzz of students is loud enough no one can really hear them even if they decide to pay them any mind. Not that they ever would. Nancy and Barb tend to fly under the radar.

“You know Robin Buckley?” Barb says, lowering her voice.

Nancy shrugs. She’s heard the name. It’s a small school, after all.

“She has the other one,” says Barb. “My parents took us to Indianapolis a few summers back. A lady at the mall was making them. I got purple for her favorite color. She has pink for mine.”

“And the star?” Nancy asks. She reaches out without really thinking about it, holding the little charm in her fingertips.

Barb smiles. “We used to stay out in the park for hours after dark, watching the stars. She knows all the constellations, and a bunch of old stories about them. She knows a ton of stuff like that. She’s pretty cool.”

“You guys don’t hang out anymore,” Nancy feels the need to point out. But Barb just shrugs.

“Yeah. We had all different classes last year, and I guess we just drifted apart. I say hi when I see her in the halls sometimes, but we just…don’t really talk anymore.”

“Oh.” Nancy lets the charm go. Barb lowers her arm and picks up her fork again. “We could get friendship bracelets.”

Barb’s eyes light up. “I saw some charms and stuff at Melvald’s the other day. We could make some!”

“Let’s do it,” Nancy decides. “When you spend the night Friday, we’ll ask Mom to take us to Melvald’s.”

“Deal.”

-

It’s 1983, and Nancy has a pink bracelet—with a pen charm, not a star—that she keeps in a shoebox of all of Barb’s things.

She only pulls it out and looks at it when she knows it’s a bad idea; when she’s already one bad thought away from breaking, and she holes herself up in her room so she can push herself recklessly over the edge.

She takes the bracelet in her hands and runs her fingers over the soft, time-worn threads. Pink for Barb’s favorite color. Barb had a soft, sky blue for hers. She thinks about that bracelet, dangling around Barb’s wrist while she drove them to Steve’s house, tied to her still, soaked in blood and rot as she decays in the Upside Down.

Nancy tucks the bracelet into her pocket. If Barb’s association with Nancy led her to her death, then Nancy’s association with Barb can mark her until the day she dies.

-

It’s 1985, and when a new girl walks up with Steve, Dustin, and Erica, looking terrified and in shock, the first thing Nancy sees is a pink bracelet around her wrist.

“I’m sorry, who are you?” Nancy asks.

“I’m Robin, I work with Steve.”

But that’s not the answer. She’s not Robin who works with Steve. She’s Robin who carries stories of the constellations in her head and memories of Barb on her wrist. Robin, with a pink bracelet and a star charm that, quite frankly, looks ridiculous among the leather bands and thick rings she wears.

The group sits down once they’re finally all together. They exchange stories and make a plan, and all the while, Robin sits off to the side, on her own.

Nancy thinks about Barb sitting on her own by Steve’s pool, her gaze turned down and her shoulders stiff around her ears. She watches Robin curl up and hug her knees to her chest, and that damn pink bracelet is all she can see.

-

It’s 1986, and Robin complains every step of the way as Nancy wrangles her into a blouse and skirt.

“You should lose the rings,” Nancy tells her. “They’re unprofessional.”

“Gee, thanks,” Robin mutters.

“You can borrow some of mine if you still want to wear them.”

“No, it’s fine.” She pulls the rings off one by one, dropping them onto Nancy’s desk with small, satisfying clunks. She shakes out her hands when she’s done, and Nancy watches that star charm bounce back and forth along its soft pink band.

Robin notices her looking. She covers the bracelet with her hand and scowls.

“The bracelet stays. I’m not taking it off.”

“That—that’s fine.” Nancy thinks she should say something else—she’s not sure how they’ve gone this far without talking about it—but she can’t stop staring at it.

Robin’s shoulders slump. Her grip on the bracelet shifts and she runs her fingers over the charm, her expression turning sad.

“Sorry,” she says softly. “I just—I got this because of—”

“Barb.”

Robin meets her eyes.

“She told me,” Nancy says. “She—she still wore yours.”

And for the first time, it occurs to her that Barb was wearing a purple bracelet that night, too. That there has always been a part of Robin Buckley rotting in the Upside Down along with her, along with Nancy.

Maybe they were all doomed, intertwined, forsaken from the start.

“A purple bracelet,” Nancy says. “And a star charm. Because you liked watching the stars together. She said you knew all the constellations. She said—”

Robin’s arms are around her the second her voice breaks. She hugs her close, and Nancy swears she can feel that star charm pressing through her shirt.

-

It’s 1989, and Robin is moving box after box from her house with Steve into Nancy’s apartment.

It takes all day to get her clothes in the closet and her desk into the second bedroom they’ll use as an office and her frankly excessive collection of tapes onto the bookshelf in the living room. By the time dinner rolls around, they’ve both decided everything else is a job for tomorrow, or the day after, or next week.

But before they go to bed that night, Robin digs through a box of photo albums and picture frames to pull out a small, black shadowbox. She holds it carefully in her hands and walks over to where Nancy stands by the bookshelf. Nancy takes it from her with a soft, sad smile and reaches up to place it on the shelf. She feels Robin’s hand on her waist, and she steps back to tuck herself into her side.

They both look up at two pink bracelets, a pen charm and a star charm, hanging safely side by side.

[thisapplepielife]

Written for a @astrangersummer.

Of All the Gin Joints

Week #17 Prompt: "I can't believe you!" | Word Count: 1938 | Rating: T | POV: Nancy | Characters: Nancy, Robin, Steve, Eddie | Relationships: Ronance, Steddie, Past Mentions of Stancy, Fruity Four | CW: Language, Alcohol Consumption | Tags: Future Fic, Bisexual Nancy Wheeler, Old Friends, And Maybe New Love, Getting Together, First Kiss

Nancy lets her eyes adjust to the darkness and flashing lights of the club. It's not exactly her comfort zone. But she watches as the men, and the women, move to the beat of the music that's bouncing the speakers, thumping so hard she can feel it in her chest. 

She's never been anywhere like this, not really. It's not exactly her scene, never has been. 

So, she finds a spot to stand in the corner, leaving a buffer, so she can take it all in. She always needs to study first, she never just dives face-first into anything. Unless it's an emergency. And this? Not an emergency.

This is just an unknown, an exploration of her sexuality that might be coming later than most. She thinks she should have done this sooner. Maybe not the club part, but the acting on her interest in women. But she didn't. Not the women, and definitely not the club, so now she'd like to know more before deciding to be all in on being a club-going person, especially at her age. 

Watching, it's clear that everyone seems to be having a really fucking good time, and aren't paying any attention to her clinging to the shadows, like a wallflower.

She's about to maybe make a move more towards the center of the action, when she catches a glimpse of a familiar smile, and she steps to the side to see better, to clear her sightline, to really make sure. And, yes, it is Robin, bouncing, laughing, dancing with a guy, seemingly having a hell of a good time. 

It's not Steve, this guy is far too short, and it isn't until he turns that she realizes it's Gareth. He's just chopped off all his curls, which she thinks is kind of a shame.

But, beyond that, she knows if Gareth's here, that means Eddie's here, and if Eddie's here, well...there he is. Steve Harrington, bouncing, hair flying, looking twenty instead of over forty. 

Looking free.

And happy. Really, really happy.

She hasn't seen any of them in person in years, only recently watching from afar on the new Facebook thing that she was bullied into joining by Dustin. She's not too mad about it, since it means she gets to see pictures of all her old friends, and gets to know that they're doing okay out in the world, living their lives. At least when she remembers to login and check.

Nancy hasn't decided if she's going to approach them or not. This is new to her, and while she knows they'd be supportive and fun and totally in her corner, she was really only looking to dip her toes in, not plunge headfirst.

But she doesn't get to decide, because Robin's caught sight of her and is waving frantically, with an enthusiasm only Robin can muster. She's missed her, she realizes. Missed all of them.

She sees Robin turn and yell in the other direction, hands flailing, nearly hitting those around her.

She hasn't changed a bit. 

So, Nancy waves back, and heads her way. She's kind of glad the decision was made for her. It's easier that way, and she gets to see Robin.

When Nancy approaches, Steve is suddenly there, picking her up and swinging her around so hard, she feels her back pop. She's not sixteen, not anymore, but he doesn't seem to have gotten that message as he squeezes her against him, before finally putting her back on her feet but still doesn't let go.

"I can't believe you! You're here!" Steve says, smiling wide and so fucking happy. 

He's glowing. 

There's a ring through his eyebrow, and tattoos crawling up his arm, and yet, he looks exactly the same, somehow. Just really, really happy and all grown up.

It's a good look on him. Honestly.

He giggles, squeezing both of her arms, "Nancy Wheeler."

She almost corrects him, but it is Wheeler again. Her divorce was finalized and she took her own name back, and she doesn't expect she'll ever give it up again. It's who she is, and she kind of hates that she ever forgot that. 

"Where's Eddie?" Nancy asks, leaning towards Steve's ear, trying to be heard over the music.

"The bar!" Steve screams back, and she looks that way, expecting to see him in line for drinks, but he's behind the bar. Putting on a show, as always.

It's a little mesmerizing. But Eddie Munson always was, for better or worse. He had an unique skill for capturing an audience and refusing to let them go.

Steve wraps his arms around her neck from behind, forcing her to walk in front of him, leading her right towards Eddie.

"Look who I found!" Steve shouts and Eddie grins, leaning up on and over the bar to cup her cheek, kissing the other one.

"Hey, Wheeler. What can I get you?" Eddie asks, waving his arm down the bar in a sweeping fashion.

She isn't sure, so she lets him pick, and he gets to work, sliding and twirling, dragging the bottle upwards as he pours, and she grins. He was made for this, she's pretty sure. Putting a show, holding an audience.

She hadn't realized he was a bartender, but she crawls up on an open bar stool, to watch him work. She expects that Steve will sit down next to her, but instead he walks around behind the bar, and kisses Eddie before he makes himself a drink. It's not as impressive as watching Eddie do it, but it's definitely not Steve's first time behind a bottle either, that's for sure. 

"Do you own this bar?" she yells, and they both nod.

Of all the gin joints in all the world, she happened to stumble into theirs.

It really is a small world after all. 

She hadn't heard they'd bought a bar. She must be more behind on that Facebook thing than she thought. Or they've owned longer than Facebook has been a thing, and it was old news she'd just missed out on hearing. She'll have to ask Dustin, or Mike. Get filled in on what they know.

"It's great!" she screams back, and it is. It's a little loud, a little overwhelming, but it seems like a really fun atmosphere. 

They both smile, and Steve is holding his own drink, and Eddie leans over putting the finishing touches on it. Then Steve's back across the bar, sitting next to her.

"You're here by accident?" Steve shouts to be heard, and she nods. She heard about the queer friendly bar, that wasn't really a club exclusively for young people, and it looked like something she might want to check out, now that she's open to exploring that side of herself.

She should have known she'd be drawn right to Steve, the only other bisexual person she really knows. That's just how these things work with them. There are no accidents. They've all been tied together for a long, long time, even as they've drifted and lived their own, separate lives.

They try to talk over the music, but it's impossible, and Steve takes her by the hand and leads her behind the bar, and into an office. He closes the door, and the sound is suddenly gone. Silenced. 

"Soundproofed?" she asks, sitting down on the couch.

Steve nods, "I still get headaches sometimes. It gives me a place to go to get away from the noise if I need to, without having to go all the way home."

"Smart. That's smart," she says, looking around. There are pictures lining the walls, filled with tons of familiar faces.

"It was Eddie's idea," Steve says, grinning, "he just wants me to be comfortable."

Then he smiles a different smile, a softer one, "And nearby."

Nancy smiles back at him, happy he's happy.

"He looks good, by the way," Nancy says, "really good. You both do. Robin, too."

Steve just smiles, because he knows that's true. Time has been kind to them, all of them, it seems.

"Gareth should have kept those curls, though," she teases.

"Don't tell him that, it's a sore spot," Steve says with a grin.

"Mum's the word," she promises.

Then the door opens and closes, Robin sliding inside. She bounces up and down, clapping her hands, "Nance! I can't believe you're here!"

Nancy stands up, and hugs her. Robin isn't as awkward as she was at eighteen. But she's still got that funky style that Nancy's always been a little jealous of, if she's totally honest. That innate ability to just be herself.

Steve is standing there smiling, and then says, "I'll let Robin show you around and catch you up. Eddie'll cry around if I skip out on helping him."

Nancy knows that's not true. Eddie Munson worships the ground Steve Harrington walks on, and has since 1986. At first it felt like Nancy was losing something that she might want again someday, and wanted to bristle up at Eddie. Claim her territory. 

But she quickly saw how Steve looked back at Eddie. She knew that look, and well, and she was happy for him, even if it was kind of hard to let that door close for good.

By the time they all went their separate ways, it was pretty obvious Steve and Eddie were in it for the long haul, and probably would always be. 

And here they are, still together, and they still look fucking happy.

She's not surprised one bit.

And good for them. She isn't sure what it would be like to pick right the first time. She's picked wrong twice now, and she's not excited to do it again.

Women. She might try women for a while. Forget all about men for a stretch and see how that feels, how it goes.

Robin is sitting next to her, and as soon as the door closes behind Steve, leaving them in quiet again, Robin's asking a million questions.

Always curious, Robin.

Nancy answers them. Mike's good. Three kids that act just like he did, which he definitely had coming. 

Robin catches her up on everybody she's still close with that Nancy hasn't seen in a while, and it's nice. Comfortable, like no time has passed.

"You want another drink? Dance? Some food? Anything?" Robin offers.

"Yes," Nancy says, and hell, she thinks she might want it all.

Another couple drinks in, they are bouncing around the dance floor as much as their middle-aged knees will allow, when Nancy reaches forward to brace herself against Robin's hip.

She didn't mean anything by it, but the sudden shift on Robin's face is telling another story. 

Oh shit.

Okay, yeah. That. 

She steps forward, and Robin meets her halfway. Lips pressing against hers in a way that she only barely let herself think about, in a time gone by. The curiosity was there, down deep, back when they were just getting close. But Nancy didn't know how to define it, how to understand it within herself.

She does now.

Robin's hand slides up her back, pressing between her shoulder blades, as she kisses her in a way Nancy's never been kissed. Not by anyone, maybe. 

She should have known. She should have realized that this is what she was looking for, missing, late to understanding.

When Robin pulls back, she smiles, and Nancy smiles back, her heart beating hard against her chest. 

She wants to do it again. 

So she does, leaning up, pressing her lips to Robin's one more time, eager to see where this can go from here.

Hopeful, and excited.

Ready.

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @astrangersummer and follow along with the fun!

[smileweakandwrong]

The most accurate summary of critter catching fic 😂

[eds6ngel]

I genuinely love your writing so much! I was just rereading your Ronance fic and it got me thinking:

(This could be with either of them whether it’s Robin, Nancy or Ronance again, so whatever works best for you!)

What about accidentally saying “I love you” during sex? You haven’t said it yet and honestly weren’t planning on doing so. You do love them, obviously, but neither of you has said it out loud so far and you’d been worried they’d reject you.

But when they’re fucking you so good it turns your brain all mushy and foggy with pleasure it just slips out <33

- 🪷

a/n: thank you so much!! i chose ronance! i hope you enjoy, lovely <3

warnings: ROUGH SMUT!! fem!afab!reader. poly!reader. queer!reader. strap-on (nancy using, r receiving.) oral (r receiving from robin.) hair pulling. swearing. pet names (princess, sweetheart, baby, lovely.) some slight fluff [0.4k].

Robin’s body was underneath you, head buried in your clit as she sucked and pulled at the erect bud. Nancy was gripping tightly onto your hips, fingernails digging into your plush skin as she moved your body on and off her silicone cock.

Your brain had turned to mush. You were a babbling mess, completely unaware of your surroundings. All you could hear was the suction sounds of Robin’s juicy lips and the slapping of Nancy’s beautiful cock against your rounded ass.

You could feel the ridges of the toy grazing just perfectly against your inner walls, your pussy sucking her in, wishing to never let her go.

“Nance— Robs— Oh God, fuck!”

Robin hums against you at your words, the vibrational waves making your legs shake immensely, Nancy speeding up the movements of her cock.

“Oh God, shit. I love you! I love you both so much! My favourite girls! I love you!”

The words slipped out without a second thought, your mouth reacting faster than your brain could comprehend. Nancy roughly shoves her cock all the way into the back of your pussy, her hips flush with yours as Robin lets up for air.

‘Oh no…’ you thought, ‘Are they gonna think I’m weird for saying that so soon?’

Nancy leans down to your ear, her breath making your body tingle all over, “Aw, we love you too, princess. Don’t we, Robs? Love her so fucking much.”

“You do?” you question, a slight essence of fear in your tone.

Robin nods breathlessly, “‘Course we do, sweetheart. We were waiting for you to say it. And now we can say it back. We love you so much. I love you so much, baby.”

“I love both of you too,” you smile weakly, mind still foggy over how well they fuck you.

And the gushy moment is swiftly over when Nancy pulls all the way out, just to force her cock all the way back in, the wind being knocked out of you. Robin’s tongue attacks your clit once more, Nancy tugging roughly on your hair and shoving your face into the mattress.

“Right, where were we? Oh yeah, making our lovely girl cum.”

And with that, their paces increase once more. You loved them both so much, and with the way they were fucking you, your brain would definitely be repeating that a hell of a lot more tonight.

taglist: @agxxb @robinsno1lesbian

[ronancecore]

She was a punk, she did ballet

She wanted her, she never tell

[katyswrites]

Nancy nods again, her face soft. “Yeah - there’s a guy out there somewhere who’d be beyond lucky to have you.”

She squeezes Robin’s wrist then, gently, her face sincere as she meets her gaze.

And suddenly, Robin can’t bear it. Maybe it’s the booze that’s still in her system, or the sound of Whitney Houston drifting in from the yard, or the fading adrenaline from trying to bang the door down. Or, maybe none of these things are true at all. Maybe, it’s just that Nancy looks really beautiful, despite everything, and she’s close enough that Robin can smell her strawberry shampoo, and it’s easy to forget that there’s a world outside of this bathroom, even if just for a moment. All she knows is that it’s just too much -

And then Robin is closing the minute amount of space between them, grabbing Nancy gently by the back of her neck, and pulling her forward, pressing her lips hard against Nancy’s.

Nancy lets out a squeak of surprise, but doesn’t pull away. It’s terrifying, and incredible. It’s even more incredible when Robin feels Nancy relax, and oh God, she’s kissing her back.

***

This incredible fanart was made by a mutual of mine (@/Timevortexgirl on Twitter & @/monochromevortex on IG). It was inspired by a scene from my Ronance fanfic, what doesn’t kill me (makes me want you more) on ao3. Make sure to follow her and give her art some love, and check out the fic, if interested!

[th30ra3k3n]

my thoughts cannot move an inch

without bumping into some piece of you.

[lavenderstobins]

you're out of touch, i'm out of time

“What the hell?” Nancy reaches out and touches his hair. “What?” Steve peers at her as if somehow he’ll be able to see himself reflected somewhere. He reaches up to feel his hair and stops short, feeling it positioned much higher on his head than usual, set into shape. He hasn’t worn his hair like this since… He gapes at her. “Nance… Are we in the past?”

During a forest investigation, Steve and Nancy find they’re able to go back to the day Will Byers disappeared and do it all differently. Saving Will is just the start. What they don’t count on is someone else going missing in his place.

Or: Nancy has to go back to 1983 to realise she likes women, Steve misses his best friend, and messing with timelines has unexpected consequences.

Steve & Nancy, Steve & Robin & Eddie & Nancy, Nancy/Robin, Steve/Eddie

Rated T // Multichapter // 75.5k words

read on ao3

[carriedawatermelon]

Ronance kinktober, chapter five. In which Mike makes a plan, Robin has a problem, and Nancy goes for a ride. (I’m sorry; that’s terrible. I will not be changing it.)

Prompt: Riding

“No,” Robin says, so firmly that every head in the room turns to look at her. She’d been propped against the wall but now she’s standing, arms crossed and jaw set in a hard line, everything about her normally fluid body gone rigid. 

“It’s not like-“

“No,” Robin says again, taking a step closer to Mike, Dustin and Lucas parting quickly to let her. “Try again.”

He’s scowling, in a staring contest with Robin, a repurposed map and figurines set out before him on the table in their basement. “You got a better idea?”

“Yeah,” Robin says, so close now that he’s forced to look up at her. “Stop treating your big sister like she’s expendable, shit bird.”

“Robin,” Nancy says softly, at the same time Mike says, “I wasn’t-“ Robin ignores them both. 

“You were. You are. And it’s bullshit. So try again. Or let someone else give it a shot. I don’t care, really. But this,” she gestures at the map, where an elf figure stands in for Nancy, alone in the upside-down, if only for a little while. An advance guard, Mike had called it. “This is bullshit. This is a death sentence. And I think you’d realize that, if you thought about it for more than half a second.”

“I’ve thought about this!” He pushes to standing, and he’s got more than an inch on Robin, but it’s enough to make her tilt her head, just slightly, to keep their eyes locked. Mike looks smug, and Nancy’s stomach turns, but before she can intervene, Robin’s in his space, forcing him to take a step back, and the smug look is gone. 

“That makes it worse,” she hisses. “You realize that, right? That you looked at literal hell and thought, let me send my sister in there alone?”

“So you go in with her!” He says, like he’s made a point, but Robin only rolls her eyes.

“Obviously,” she says, scathing and dismissive, and he wilts, just a little. “If for some reason Nancy and the rest of the people in this room agreed to this fucked up plan, I would be there with her. Fuck whatever else you wanted me to be doing. But even though I’m pretty good with a Molotov and a baseball bat, I’m not a good shot. Definitely not as good as her. None of us are, which you also know, and have somehow decided to treat as an expendable skill belonging to an expendable person. Your sister.” Mike pales, but Robin doesn’t let up. “I would throw myself in front of her, and I’d be dead, and then she’d be alone. Again. So no,” she finishes, stepping back and crossing her arms. “This is not the plan. Call me when you have something real.” 

With that, she turns on her heel and pushes out through the basement door into the night. 

“She’s right,” Steve says, eyes tripping between the door and Mike and Nancy. 

“Yeah, man. She is. And anyway, there’s no way El would go for it,” Dustin adds. 

Nancy stays quiet, watches as Mike fists his hair in frustration, Will quiet on the sofa behind him. She catches Steve’s eye and tilts her head to the door and he nods. 

She’s about made it when Mike says, over the familiar cacophony of boys’ voices, “Nancy!” 

She turns back, waits, and he shoves his hands in his pockets. “I didn’t…I wasn’t trying to…”

“Sure,” she says, because he’s not making anything any better and she’s tired, so tired. “I’m going to find Robin.” She grabs a walkie and holds it in the air. “Call me if there’s an emergency.” 

Robin’s not hard to find, the light to Nancy’s room on, and so Nancy circles the house, goes past her dad, oblivious in the living room, and waves briefly at her mom at the kitchen table with Holly. 

“Robin looked sad,” Holly says, frowning, and Nancy steps in and kisses the top of her head. 

“She’ll be okay. Maybe in a little while we can come down and play Candy Land?” Holly’s face lights up at that, and Nancy kisses her head again, smiling at her mom. “Thanks for letting her in.” 

Her mom hums and nods. “You know we’re always happy to have her.” Her mom knows Robin’s mom, had frowned in a very particular way the first time Nancy mentioned Robin would be coming over. “Sheila’s girl,” she’d said, and Nancy had been a little worried until her mom had fed Robin extra lasagna and fussed over her and given her a massive hug before she left the next morning. Maybe she thinks that’s why Robin’s sad, and it’s true often enough that Nancy doesn’t offer any other excuse. 

“Thanks,” Nancy says again, and then makes her way up the stairs. 

Robin’s on the bed, shoes kicked off and jacket hanging from Nancy’s desk chair, the sleeves of her black and blue sweater pushed up to her elbows, which are sharp angles at her knees, arms wrapped tightly around herself. 

“Hi,” she offers quietly, and Nancy kicks off her own shoes and crawls into bed next to her. “I’m sorry,” she starts, but Nancy kisses whatever she was going to say next away. 

This is new, months’ worth of build-up and two college deferrals culminating in one desperately nervous, beautifully fumbling kiss at the end of a patrol shift a month ago. Nancy is stupidly in love with the person who’d become her best friend, and she finds herself acting like it, which would be mortifying except for the way that it makes Robin light up or look at her like she’s a dream or kiss her so fiercely she can barely breathe. 

Now, Robin’s arms unlock from her legs, coming to frame Nancy’s face, fingers tracing her cheekbones and jaw, soft and worshipful. Nancy presses at her legs until she gets the idea, straightens them so that Nancy can climb into her lap, thighs bracketing Robin’s and arms wrapped around her neck. 

“Hi,” Nancy says eventually, breath and words unsteady. “Are you okay?”

Robin’s face clouds with confusion, and Nancy kisses the wrinkle in her forehead. Her hands now rest on Nancy’s waist, and her thumbs press lightly into soft flesh, affectionate. 

“I’m okay.” Her head tilts as she takes Nancy in. “Are you okay? That was…that was…I’m sorry. I know you can defend yourself, obviously, like, you definitely don’t need me in there acting like an asshole, but I saw his stupid fucking plan and that stupid fucking elf that he…that was supposed to be you, and I just…” She collapses a little, shoulders hunching as she sighs. “I’m sorry.”

“Please don’t be,” Nancy says. “Please don’t be sorry. Not for that. Not for…”

If it had been Steve or Jon or anyone else, really, Nancy might’ve bristled. Would’ve bristled, would’ve pushed to the front to tell Mike herself that the plan wasn’t going to work, voice loud no matter how tired and hurt she was. With Robin, she hadn’t felt the need. With Robin, she hasn’t felt the itch that had been ever-present with Jon and Steve, the constant, needling reminder that someone wanted her to be kept, to be possessed. It wasn’t fair to them, probably, but it was true. With Robin, it isn’t. Maybe because Nancy feels for the first time that it’s mutual, that she wants to keep and be kept, that Robin wants the same.

She kisses Robin again, hard, teeth nipping at her bottom lip, and her stomach burns when Robin whimpers, grips tighter at her waist, the fabric of her shirt wrinkling against her skin. Robin noses into her neck, wraps her arms around Nancy and pulls her closer. 

“He’s not allowed to do that,” she says, breath hot against Nancy’s skin. “I won’t let him.”

Nancy combs her fingers through Robin’s hair, scratches at her back. “I know, baby. I know.” She kisses Robin’s temple. “You’re not allowed to throw yourself in front of me. You hear me?”

“You’d do the same thing,” Robin says matter-of-factly, only a tinge of petulance, and Nancy can’t argue, but she isn’t happy about it.

“I love you,” she says instead, throwing away all her worries about too much, too soon because that means nothing when it’s the end of the world and it’s her best friend in her arms, anyway. Robin’s breath stutters against her collarbone, body tightening against Nancy’s. Nancy kisses her temple again, softly. 

When Robin pulls back to look at her, her eyes are big and her voice is raspy but unwavering. “I love you, too.”

The kiss moves quickly from soft to demanding, Robin’s hands scratching down her back to the hem of her shirt and Nancy’s got it off and over the side of the bed immediately, unclasping and tossing her bra to join it without hesitation. 

Robin’s mouth is on her as soon as it’s gone, sucking at Nancy while her other hand roughly palms, and Nancy arches into the contact, moaning into her knuckles with one hand and keeping Robin close with the other, fingers tight in her hair. 

“God, I can’t wait until my parents leave next week. Want to hear you.” She licks at Nancy’s nipple, kisses and sucks again before moving to the other side, switching her hand while Nancy rocks her hips down in search of friction. 

She finds none, and, desperate, reaches down to the button and zipper of her jeans, undoing them and forcing herself from Robin’s body so that she can shimmy them off and throw them to the floor along with her underwear. Robin’s eyes watch closely as she climbs back onto the bed, back onto her, and her hands run hot over Nancy’s skin, grabbing at her ass and scratching over her back. 

Her mouth is busy at Nancy’s neck, kissing and whispering affirmations and praises that have Nancy half out of her mind. It had been a very exciting discovery, that Robin’s as free with her words when she’s touching Nancy as she is the rest of the time. Her lips travel lower, and Nancy’s about to start touching herself when Robin’s hand reaches between her legs, finally. 

Nancy’s sigh escapes at the same time as Robin’s groan. “So wet for me, Nance. God. Feel so good.” She slips a finger inside, then two, and it’s so good, exactly what Nancy needs. Her hips rolls down and Robin meets her movement for movement, her free hand resting on Nancy’s hip as she breathes heavily and watches. 

It makes Nancy burn, Robin’s eyes on her as she rides her, and she wants to give Robin all of it, wants her to see exactly how much Nancy wants, so she raises herself off of Robin’s fingers regretfully and puts a little more distance between them, adjusting so that she’s straddling one of Robin’s legs, her own able to spread wider. Settled, she takes Robin’s hand and positions it back between her legs, gliding her fingertips over her clit and then positioning them at her entrance. 

Robin’s eyes are all over her, roaming from her own fingers waiting between Nancy’s legs up and up and when she makes it to Nancy’s eyes, Nancy holds her gaze and sinks down, head back and chest out, showy and as loud as she can be without risking a very awkward knock at her door. (It’s locked. It’s always locked these days, and if her mom has noticed she says nothing.) 

“Nancy,” Robin says, shaky. “Fuck.”

She raises herself up and sinks down again, and when she’s sure Robin isn’t going to move, she brings her own hands to her tits, playing with her nipples and sighing at the feeling. 

She’s been having sex with Robin for about three weeks, and she has, to put it simply, felt like a massive slut, wanting and desperate and giving everything she has away without even the smallest bit of hesitation. She has exactly no regrets, and Robin looks at her like she’s the best thing in the world and gives just as much of herself. Nancy’s obsessed with the ways they’re different, the way they fit together in what they want and how they want it. It’s so good she has, on more than one occasion and so embarrassed she can hardly stand it, cried. 

She isn’t crying now, though. She’s sighing Robin’s name and feeling Robin curl her fingers just the way Nancy is learning she likes, and she’s asking, begging, for, “More.”

Robin sucks at her collarbone as she adds another finger, biting and causing Nancy to cry out louder than she should, the sharp pain and the stretch exactly what she wants. 

“Shh, baby,” Robin says, confident and soothing and making Nancy somehow wetter. She brings her hand from Nancy’s hip to her lips, and Nancy sucks two fingers into her mouth happily. Slut, she thinks, and then wonders how it would feel if Robin called her one, too, shivers and files that away for later. 

“You look so good,” Robin says, leaning back again to watch Nancy work herself against her fingers. “I wonder…” She bites her lip and Nancy sucks harder on her fingers, hollowing her cheeks in encouragement. “Fuck. God you’re so good at that. I wonder if…maybe I can get a strap-on,” she says, coloring even as her eyes grow heavier at what Nancy assumes is the thought of it. 

She moans around Robin’s fingers, nodding, pulling free to voice her agreement, mouth wet. “Oh my god, yes.” She takes the fingers back, pushing her head so far forward she nearly gags, and imagines riding Robin’s that way, imagines taking her into her mouth. She hadn’t ever thought about it before. She is going to have trouble thinking about anything else, now. 

Her hips move faster and Robin groans, pulling her hand away from Nancy’s mouth and down, finding her clit with her thumb. Nancy clenches around her, thighs burning as she moves hard and fast, wanting and wanting. She takes a hand from her breast and tugs Robin forward to take its place, and it sends her over the edge, body folding into Robin’s as she comes, shaking and biting into the fabric of her shirt to keep herself quiet. 

Robin’s hand is moving up and down her back, holding her close as she comes down, and when she asks, with a gentle pull at the fingers still inside, “Okay?” Nancy nods against her and whimpers a little at the loss of them, the empty feeling. 

With both hands free, Robin wraps her up fully, pulls so that Nancy is sideways in her lap, pressing kisses to her head and cheek and nose, along her jaw. “I love you. I love you. God, Nancy, you’re so gorgeous. You’re everything. You’re everything.”

Nancy curls further into her, forehead against her neck, and basks in it, tilts and presses her own kisses to Robin’s chin and strong jaw. “I love you,” she echoes, stomach fluttering at the novelty of saying it aloud. They’re quiet and close, and Nancy falls into a calm, happy place. 

“Holly was worried about you,” she says eventually, nuzzling at Robin’s cheek. “I told her we might play Candy Land.” 

“Are you gonna accuse me of cheating again?”

“You were cheating.”

“Not the question I asked.”

“You’re absurd. I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

“I was trying to help her win,” Robin says, and Nancy grins at the pout she can hear in it. 

“She needs to learn how to lose.”

“Not from me.”

“Hmm,” Nancy responds, giving up the argument in favor of a kiss. “Let me put pajamas on and we can go play.”

“I don’t love that plan.”

“I’m not playing Candy Land naked.”

“You know that’s not what I meant.”

“I do.” She presses a kiss to Robin’s cheek and climbs out of bed. “You need to change, too, so Holly doesn’t ask questions.”

She does, pulling on boxers and an oversized t-shirt while Nancy pulls out a matching light blue set for herself. Before they open the door, Nancy presses another kiss to her lips, and Robin smiles into it, easy. 

[eskawrites]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Stranger Things (TV 2016) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Robin Buckley/Nancy Wheeler, Robin Buckley & Steve Harrington, Robin Buckley & Maxine "Max" Mayfield Characters: Robin Buckley, Nancy Wheeler, Steve Harrington, Maxine "Max" Mayfield, Mike Wheeler Additional Tags: Canon-Typical Violence, Blood and Injury, patrols in the woods, nancy's survivor guilt (tm), Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort Series: Part 17 of thriving in the apocalypse Summary:

Mike swings at another demodog, and it doesn’t back off as much as it should. He makes a nervous sound, pulling back to try again, but Nancy steps in front of him and shoots once, twice, three times, until it finally goes down.

Her ears ring. She hears Robin’s voice, “Nice shot, Max,” and Steve’s grunt, and the sound of something making wet, heavy contact.

No screams. No cries for help. Mike steps back around her as she reloads.

Everything is fine.

 or, Robin gets hurt, Nancy has a crisis, and at the end of the day, all you can do is hold onto each other

can i offer you some thriving in the apocalypse in these trying times?

[sapphicsoldierwriting]

I want to do a little challenge, just for fun

Every note this post gets is another 10 words I have to add to my wip

[smileweakandwrong]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Stranger Things (TV 2016) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Robin Buckley/Nancy Wheeler, Robin Buckley & Steve Harrington Characters: Robin Buckley, Nancy Wheeler, Steve Harrington Additional Tags: pre-established ronance, The Struggles of Adulthood, long distance besties, the struggles of asking for help when you're struggling, Post-Canon, late 90s shenanigans, Angst, But also comfort Summary:

The change in phone calls was less gradual. They still called each other a few times a week like they always had, but Steve seemed off— distant, like it was a challenge to find things to talk about. The conversations got shorter all the time, and Steve always seemed to have a reason why he had to go. And then Robin found that if she didn’t pick up the phone and call, she just wouldn’t hear from him at all.

She called one evening and Steve didn’t answer, which wasn’t fully uncommon, sometimes he’d be at the high school late grading essays or he’d stop and grab a beer with a work buddy on the way home. What was uncommon, though, was for him not to call her back when he got home and for the answering machine to greet her for a second day in a row.

“I think Steve is mad at me,” Robin said when the phone just rang until she heard Steve’s recorded voice on the third day, too.

* Or, when Robin doesn't hear from Steve for a week, she and Nancy drive all the way to check on him.

[boldlyvoid]

Silk Chiffon (why wouldn't it be?)

Robin Buckley x Nancy Wheeler

Summary: Robin can read Nancy like her favourite book, it just takes her a few tries to get the translation right.

Warnings: coming out, demisexual Nancy, anxiety about the future ad regrets from the past. first kiss, love confessions

a/n: i know demisexuality wasn't coined till like 2004/2008 (depending on the source) but it just fits here and so I'm using it

word count: 2k

Robin can tell something is up. They’re trying to sleep, laying side by side in her twin bed, Robin facing her while she stares up at the ceiling. Eyes open, hands interlocked and laying on her stomach, her breathing is a little too fast. Like her thoughts are racing and therefore, her heart must be, too. 

“Do you want to talk?” Robin whispers. 

Nancy lets out a deep sigh, “no… but yes.” 

“You can tell me anything,” she reminds her. After all they’ve been through, there’s nothing Robin can’t handle now. 

“Can I ask you a question?” 

She nods, “yeah, of course.” 

She scoots a little closer to Nancy as she turns to face robin, inches from her face now, so her whispers can’t be heard by anyone else. “Are you… asexual?” 

“What? No?” Robin’s absolutely shocked by that. “Why would you think I am?” 

“Cause Steve hits on anything with a pulse and you’ve never gotten with him. You’re so adamant that you’re platonic with a capital P and he obviously would respect you if you turned him down but like… you guys don’t flirt. Steve flirts with everyone, but not you?” She explains, rambling a bit which is so unlike her. 

“He did try and tell me he had a thing for me… when we were high, after the Russian’s… but I uh, I um, I’m—” she tries to swallow, to get some moisture back in her mouth. Terrified that this is where the friendship dies. This is why she never had sleepovers before. Telling someone the truth after spending so many nights side by side can only end one way. Disgust. Betrayal. Being kicked out and humiliated in the middle of the night. 

“Robin,” she reaches out and soothes her hand over her shoulder and down her arm. “It’s okay.” 

She takes a deep breath, nodding slightly. “I’m a lesbian.” 

“That’s wonderful,” Nancy smiles at her. “I’m proud of you for telling me… I love that you trust me.” 

Robin feels like crying but she doesn’t, she just lets out a breath she didn't know she was holding for so long, “thank you. Really.” 

“How did you know?” Nancy asks. “Like, did you always know or did it sneak up on you?” 

“Oh, I uh, I always knew,” she explains. “Like… when all the other girls were swooning over boys, I was so disgusted by it. My mom thought I was just a late bloomer but then, then I got a crush. I didn’t think it was a crush but the more I thought about it, the more I was so worried I was just obsessed with her. Like a freak.” 

“That’s how I felt about Steve at first,” she explains. “But that’s just because I thought that was what you were supposed to do when you like someone.” 

“Yeah, it feels so intense you just want to look at them and be near them and—and relate to them, so you become who they want to get closer to them and you lose a bit of yourself,” Robin rants. “I hate it. I wish someone would like me for me, that someone could see me for who I really am and stay who they really are and we can stay happy together.” 

“I want that too,” she sighs. 

“We’ll find it,” Robin gives her a little smile. 

“Would it be okay for me to tell you a secret now?” 

“Why wouldn't it be?” 

“When I was touring the campus in Boston, mom went to find a payphone so she could call home and see if Holly was okay… I went to the store to get a sweater but I ended up finding all the textbooks for each course and—and I bought the book for the human sexualities class,” she explains. “And I read it all.” 

“Can I read it next?” Robin asks, thinking nothing of it. Nancy loves to learn, there’s nothing wrong with that. 

“Yeah, it’s just…” she bites her lip for a second. “Have you ever heard of demisexuality?” 

She shakes her head, “no.” 

“The way the book described it is basically someone who only develops sexual feelings for someone or enjoys and initiates sex with someone who they’re emotionally close with,” she explains. 

“Makes sense,” Robin nods along. “So, is that why you asked if I’m asexual?” 

She nods, “Yeah… and because I think that’s me.” 

“Oh?” 

“With Steve, the first time was so— not bad, but uncomfortable. I wanted to, at least I thought I did. I thought lying to your parents and going to a boy's house to drink beer and have your first time was such a normal teenage girl thing to do that I did it. But I didn’t enjoy myself—

“Most girls don’t the first time,” Robin validates her feelings. “I’m not saying you’re not demisexual, I’m just saying that’s normal.” 

“I know it is, but… then I kept dating Steve. I did fall in love with him, he was a good friend to me and the sex did get better, which I know you don’t want to hear about but—

“I don’t mind,” she giggles slightly. “I always knew he wasn’t as good as he bragged to be.” 

Nancy laughs too, “he was good. It just took me a while to initiate it and have fun and then there was Jonathan. It was so different with him, that first time was so good. It was months of building a friendship and an understanding that bubbled to the top and it was wonderful. But then it died. As we drifted apart, as he stopped being my best friend, the longer we weren’t together, the harder it was to keep loving him.” 

Robin nods, “And that happened with Steve too?” 

“No. No, it faded with Steve because of Jonathan. Like, I have a one-track mind when it comes to love and whoever my best friend is at the time is the only person I want to be with. And I hate myself for that,” she explains. 

“You were also a teenage girl, I mean, you still are,” Robin talks her off the ledge. “You’re 18. You don’t need to have all the answers and be 100% perfect all the time. I mean there are adults in their 30s and 40s who cheat and ruin families all the time, you’re not like that. You have time to learn who you are and what you like and be truly loved. It’ll be okay.” 

Nancy starts to cry a bit, “I don’t think it will…” 

“Hey,” Robin moves in closer, pulling her in against her chest, she runs her hand over Nancy’s back. “You will. You are loved. Very loved.” 

“That’s why I’m so scared. I don’t want to lose this,” she whispers, her voice smaller than it’s ever been. She hugs Robin so close, “If I love you… if we get together just to go to different colleges and spend days not talking, it’ll dwindle and die like everything else and I can’t lose you. You’re my favourite friend I’ve had in a long time.” 

“So that’s why you asked… cause if I was asexual we couldn’t hook up and you wouldn’t lose me,” Robin pieces it all together. 

She just nods against her, “I have loved this time so much. I love how we talk about everything. I love how we can do nothing and still enjoy it because we're together. I love that life with you is so easy and fun and—and I just love you.” 

Robin simply kisses the top of her head before resting her cheek against her, “I love you too… but unlike those two idiots, I’m not going to let the best girl I’ve ever known in my whole life just walk away. You’re going to get sick of me. I’m going to call you in Boston, and I’m going to come visit when I can, we’ll be home for Thanksgiving, Christmas and spring break and if you get a summer internship in Boston, I can come out there for the summer. If I get to love you, to really love you, I’m making it work for the long run.” 

“Is Steve going to be okay with it?” She worries more. 

Robin just laughs, “Yeah, seeing as he’s had to listen to me pine over you for months now, he knows. He’s okay… he has someone special of his own now. I’ll let him tell you who, but he’s okay. He’s moved on. We’re allowed to be happy.” 

Nancy lets out a relieved laugh, holding Robin even tighter. “Oh my god, it feels so good to tell you. I have been thinking about this for weeks. Months maybe.” 

“You have a killer poker face then,” Robin teases. “I thought you were so straight.” 

“I did too,” Nancy whispers, adjusting her head so she’s closer to Robin’s throat. She gives her a little kiss, “Then I spent a week with you and something brewed and all I could think about was seeing you again, and talking to you again and kissing you to get you to shut up.” 

Robin laughs, “Yeah, that’s one way to do it.” 

Nancy straddles her, a knee on both sides of her hips, her arms wrapped around her middle, she keeps kissing the side of her neck. “I’ve wanted to kiss you for so long.” 

“I’ve never been kissed before,” Robin admits. “I’ve never done anything, before… I’m not sure I’m ready to just jump into it, either.” 

“I’m not ready for that either,” Nancy agrees, holding her tighter for a moment before she props herself up on her hands and leans over her. Her hair dangling down in Robin's face, she reaches up to push her hair back behind her ear. “But I would like to kiss you.” 

“Please?” Robin all but begs. 

Balancing on one hand, Nancy cups her face gently, rubbing her thumb over Robin’s cheek. She leans in slowly, savouring the moment, building anticipation before it happens. 

One touch, 4 lips meet, one explosion, 2 lives better in an instant.

Suddenly, all at once, she understands the big bang. How something so small could create so much. She understands every love song and poem, every painting and sculpture… every depiction of the world from a lens of love and happiness and longing and belonging. 

The kiss deepens, and she follows Nancy’s lead because she knows what she’s doing. Sure, she’s seen enough movies to get the gist of making out, but there’s something so different about experiencing it firsthand. The way her tongue feels so right against her own, how their lips move in tandem like they were programmed this way… how Nancy slips from her perch and rests her body weight on her and Robin's hands instinctively wrap around her and she holds her there. 

Nancy brushes her hair back a few times, trying to get it out of Robin’s face and stop it from tickling her, but it keeps falling back down. Eventually, Robin misses the feel of her hand on her cheek, so she gathers Nancy’s hair in her hands and holds it as if her fist was a ponytail. To her surprise, Nancy just hums against her, thanking her while her tongue is in Robin's mouth. 

She never wants this to end. 

She could make out with Nancy for the rest of her life if she was allowed. They could never leave this bed again for all she cared. She would give up every early pleasure for Nancy’s. 

When Nancy does eventually pull away, it’s just a millimetre before she rests her forehead against robins. She’s breathing just as deep as Robin, flushed and craving more but they said they wouldn’t. They can’t. It needs to be more special than in the middle of the night in the Wheeler’s house with people on either side of her walls and across the hall. 

“I love you,” Nancy whispers.

“I love you,” she whispers right back. “There’s no getting rid of me now. You’re stuck with me, I hope you understand that.” 

Nancy just giggles that beautiful giggle. “Good.” 

General Taglist 

@ncsls0515 @stevesmunsons @reidsbookclub @sweetyyhippyy @manuosorioh @mrs-dr-reid @k-k0129 @squishyturtle @katsukis1wife @buckleyhans @mrs-ssa-hotch @ssavanessa22

[fragilecapric0rnn]

first lines tag game!!

thank you for the tags my wonderful and talented friends!! @judasofsuburbia @kkpwnall @fastcardotmp3 ❤️ love yall!!!!

RULES: post the first lines of your last 10 fics/chapters posted on AO3 (if you have less than 10 fics posted, post the first lines of all your fics) and try to draw some conclusions

1. Anyway, It's About Old Friends

Robin stands beside Steve, her grip on his arm is the only thing keeping him grounded.

2. Hand On My Stupid Heart [chapter 1]

Instead of warming up for the game, the last game of his high school career, Steve Harrington is making the trek out to the woods behind the school. 

3. Hand On My Stupid Heart [chapter 2]

A pang of guilt hit Steve in the chest as he sits on the dirty bathroom floor.

4. you'll get older (maybe then you'll feel some control)

Something’s not right.

5. Young, Scrappy, & Hungry [chapter 4]

Robin’s tires screech on the pavement, echoing in the almost empty parking lot, before she cuts the engine of her mom’s red Toyota Yaris, whistling as she climbs out of the car, giving no one even the slightest hint that she woke up this morning on the brink of vomiting from the nerves.

6. It Might Be Worth It For Once

Steve feels so incredibly queasy walking shoulder to shoulder in between Robin and Dustin up to their dingy little hometown bar. 

7. Excuse Me, This is a 7-11 in 1985

“No way!” Steve scolds, the top half of his body turned and facing the backseat.

8. The Future is the Same (but i have to try)

The first time, it was an accident.

9. Young, Scrappy, & Hungry [chapter 3]

Nancy shuts off her car, cutting off the radio announcer talking about the ‘chilly morning’ that Orange County residents are in store for today.

10. Heat Wave

It’s an unusually hot night in Steve’s apartment. 

TLDR; we love to start with an action. we LOVE an action and also sometimes some dialogue!

No pressure tagging some friends!!

@cheatghost @figthefruitfaeth @snowangeldotmp3 @gideoncharov @starryeyedjanai @thefreakandthehair