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heartbreak-sandwich · 6 months

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Ronance blurb below the cut 💕 I hope you love them as much as I do. Sneak peek:

Robin was talking about a swing she had as a kid – now she’s talking about a video game she played at the arcade that she can’t remember the name of – and that reminded her of a milkshake she tried once that had a similar name – and now she’s talking about her old manager at Scoops Ahoy who was a total jackass. She’s talking a million miles per second, and Nancy is nodding along…but then Nancy looks at her – really looks at her – and she has an epiphany.

She loves her.

Robin is still talking, and Nancy’s eyes have glossed over, fixating on Robin’s lightly mascara’d lashes, her cherry-stained lips, her blonde chin length hair with bits of sunshine scattered in the highlights.

Nancy is in love with her.

She has always known this deep inside her chest, somewhere underneath all the guilt and the piles of memories stuffed away in the catacombs of her ribcage where the light could never reach them. She pushed her feelings for Robin down there, too, not knowing if she ever really deserved to be happy. But today, she couldn’t help but let the magic creep into her thoughts.

What if it works?

Robin is still talking, and Nancy realizes she loves that, too. She is enamored with Robin for being herself even though she knows Robin could never be anything else if she tried. Nancy aches for her own authenticity, and Robin’s being so effortless captivates her. She hasn’t realized she has stopped nodding along with Robin’s ramblings until she hears her name.

“Nancy? Sorry. Did I lose you? I’m doing it again, aren’t I?” Robin sighs apologetically and averts her eyes as Nancy snaps out of her dreamlike state.

“No, no, I’m listening. Sorry, I was just thinking…about what you were saying,” Nancy lied terribly.

“No offense, but you’re the worst liar I’ve ever known.” Robin chuckles to herself as she focuses her attention back on the stack of videos she’s filing away on the shelves and notices Nancy is unusually quiet all of a sudden. “You okay?” Robin looks at Nancy, her eyebrows raised in concern.

There they are again, those sky blue eyes, fixed on Nancy, and her stomach is suddenly full of a thousand butterflies. Nancy opens her mouth to speak, but no sound comes out. Robin files the last few tapes on the shelf in front of her and closes the gap between them, resting a gentle hand on Nancy’s shoulder. “Nance?”

Nancy shakes her head to make the clouds dissipate. She wants to say this right. She looks at Robin again, into her eyes, studies her face, and stands square in front of her, mustering all of the courage she can. She never thought the most important speech of her life would be given here in the New Releases aisle of Family Video, standing in front of her best friend on a sunny Tuesday afternoon with too many memories flashing through her mind and not enough words in the English dictionary to accurately describe how she feels.

“Robin,” she starts. “You know how you sometimes say that things about you are defects?”

“Yeah. Most of the things about me tend to be,” Robin scoffs, half smiling.

“They’re not,” Nancy says matter of factly.

“What?” Robin is taken aback. This isn’t their usual conversational map.

“They’re not defects,” Nancy repeats. “They’re…assets.” Nancy grips both of Robin's shoulders firmly as she locks eyes with her.

It's now or never.

Robin notices the tears gathering in Nancy’s eyes as she speaks passionately and deliberately. “I have never known anyone else who cares like you…who thinks like you…who loves like you do. Robin, you are so special in every way, and nothing about you is wrong. It never has been.” Robin’s stomach does a backflip at Nancy’s words, and her mouth feels like desert sand as she searches for something to say.

“Nancy, I –”

“No. I’m not done,” Nancy interrupts. “You see me, Robin. You see me like no one else ever has. I’m not lost when I’m with you, and you make me feel heard, and right, and…validated. I feel real when we’re together, like my feet are on solid ground for the first time in my life.” Robin’s hands are trembling, clutching her vest as a tear falls from Nancy’s eye. “Robin?”

“Yeah?”

“You are everything I didn’t know I needed, and I can’t live another second without you knowing that I –”

“Me, too.” Robin interrupts Nancy’s soliloquy, cupping her face and swiping away her single tear with her thumb. Robin smiles so wide her cheeks start to ache, but she doesn’t care because Nancy is holding her closer now, their noses almost touching.

Nancy echoes her smile as they lean in closer, their lips brushing together before they connect in the sweetest first kiss either of them had ever shared. It is slow, syrupy, the texture of honey pouring into a piping hot cup of tea, and they melt into each other for a moment. Their lips part, eyes opening slowly, each of them catching their breath before Nancy speaks again.

“I love you,” she says simply, another tear cascading down her cheek.

“Today and every day,” Robin replies, her smile plastered on her face. She swipes away Nancy’s tear again as both of them let out a sigh and a half giggle, relieved that the feeling was mutual. They’re still holding each other close when they hear a voice from the front counter.

“And what do we have here?” Steve had returned from his break to see the tail end of their interaction, and the blush in his cheeks confirms that he had witnessed more than just the last ten seconds. Nancy and Robin looked at each other for less than a second before bursting into a fit of laughter.

And the rest is history. 💕taglist: @broodpuff

#ronance #robin buckley #nancy wheeler #robin buckley x nancy wheeler #ronance fluff #ronance blurb #ronance fic #fluffy fic #just pure love #I love them so much #I did not cry writing this (a lie)#oc #sando writes #stranger things fics

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snowangeldotmp3 · 1 year

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having some ✨ writers block✨ pls send help but i stumbled across this old spidey-nance scene so, just wanted to share it.

“I do have an important question, though, Wheeler,” Robin says, resting her head on her fists and her elbows on the bar. Nancy grabs a spare banana, taking a bite.

“Go for it,” she says around the food.

“How do you get all of your hair in that suit?”

Nancy snorts, Robin thinks it’s a beautiful sound. “I’m serious! Have you ever thought of cutting it short?”

“Short?”

“Yeah! Or like an undercut or something? I think you could rock it. Very butch though.”

Nancy crinkles her nose, but Robin doesn’t think it’s in disgust. For a moment, Robin lets herself think about Nancy with a shorter style. The chestnut curls still intact, still framing Nancy’s delicate (not-so-delicate) face. Robin thinks of running her fingers through such soft, short curls. The image begins to change in her mind. Nancy with her hair now, curls long and vibrant. Robin imagines carding her hands through the thick curls and—

Heat floods Robin’s face, forcing her gaze down, trying to think of anything and everything except Nancy.

“You okay?” Nancy asks, and Robin knows immediately that Nancy knows what Robin was thinking about. She can see it in the mischievous glint in Nancy's eyes. She’s been caught--caught in the spider’s web.

#ronance #ronance blurb #robin buckley #nancy wheeler #stranger things #my writing #spidey-nance #this was just something cute and short that i've been thinking abt heh

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mayahawkeslay · 2 years

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They fit the Vans x Converse theory <3

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powderblueblood · 5 months

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please do something with nancy wheelr i miss my baby

-🧞‍♀️

SAVE ME FROM WHAT I WANT - nancy wheeler

author's note: my beautiful jean genie anon, i love you so much for asking for this and i hope to god you like it. this honestly maybe might be a prologue to something bigger i'm toying around with (spot the references l o l) but-- let's just get into it, shall we??? content warning: nancy wheeler being semi in denial about her sexuality, nancy wheeler is a lesbian, mentions of pussy eatin but no actual pussy eatin, references to complicated stancy and jancy, mention of parent illness, a little angst and a little fluff word count: 1.7k

The first time Nancy Wheeler kissed a girl was not a light bulb moment.

There were no choirs of angels singing, no great and fantastic revelation about who she is.

Because it’s not like she hadn’t thought about it before.

Nancy, a student of the human scene, has entertained the curiosity the same way one might like, want to see what happens when they throw a watermelon off the top of an eleven story building. The fall and the impact will surely be thrilling, but then there’s the cleanup. Did you know it’s illegal to throw watermelons off buildings in most US states? So theoretically, if she were to throw the watermelon, she could always toss and run. But then she’d have to live with the guilt of not going back and owning up to her mess. It could have really hurt someone. Maybe it did!

But the temptation to throw is still there.

Anyway, she doesn’t think about it that much. So it’s fine.

She only thought about it when her feminist lit professor paused at her desk, returning the paper she’d written about Gloria Steinem infiltrating the Playboy Club. Professor Gonzalez, who Nancy can’t quite bring herself to call Flo despite her insistence, has sleek black hair that tumbles over her shoulder like dark and deadly sand through an hourglass. It fell in a sheet then too, almost hitting Nancy in the face as Flo told her, “This is great. I know Gloria, and she would totally love this.”

Despite Nancy’s best friend derisively protesting that Professor Gonzalez does not know Gloria, are you shitting me, Nancy entertains daydreams where she and Flo and Gloria Steinem meet up in a dark bar for a gorgeous, stimulating meeting of the minds. In some versions, Flo goes home first, leaving Nancy and Gloria alone. In other versions, the versions that throw heat on Nancy’s cheeks even just thinking about them, Gloria goes home first and Nancy and Flo are staring at each other through the brine-heavy buzz of dirty martinis.

Nancy doesn’t even like dirty martinis.

She discovered this at some dorm get together or another, where one of her similarly-affected-by-pretentiousness coursemates attempted to mix them. Badly, she assumed, because they tasted like crap. She winced on every sip.

“Someone once told me these were supposed to taste like pussy,” her best friend had said from the common area couch, to which Nancy had snorted, Jesus!, a little gin and vermouth and brine coming out of her nose.

“And?” That came from a girl in a smart ponytail, who was wearing smart suit slacks and a smart sweater in ultra smart, muted colors. She had taken a seat next to Nancy on the floor by the fire, and Nancy found herself awkwardly adjusting her off-the-shoulder sweatshirt. She should have dressed up for this, right? But these common room salons were always happening, and it felt like it was so hard to gauge the dress code.

“How does that flavor profile match up?”

Nancy realized that the low tone this girl was speaking in wasn’t meant for the room. It wasn’t even meant for her best friend, who’d posed the question. It was just meant for her.

Ah, Nancy mouthed. “Um. I don’t know. I’ve never… tried it.”

Oh, the girl mouthed back, her head cocked toward her shoulder. “Maybe you should think about expanding your palate.”

Nancy’s stomach had jumped and she had drunk the rest of her shitty martini way too fast. By the time she had figured it was time to head to bed, her head felt like it was floating a couple of inches above her neck, and she was hand-in-hand with the smart girl from the fire.

Back slumping against the door in a clumsy stumble. Nancy giggled. The girl, who said her name was Sal, which Nancy thought was very glamorous, leaned against the door next to her.

“I wish I dressed like you,” Nancy said, reaching out to finger the arm of her sweater. Cashmere. Something expensive. People were always wearing expensive things here. They looked so grown-up, so continental, compared to Nancy’s department store skirts and pastel shades.

“We can swap outfits,” Sal hummed, the words coming from low in her throat as she tilted her head towards Nancy’s, “if your roommate isn’t home.”

Nancy Wheeler, even four crapshoot dirty martinis in, is not obtuse. Seeing double might make it a quadruple entendre, but she still knows one when she hears it.

“I… have a boyfriend,” she’d whispered, almost into Sal’s mouth. That was, at the time, only half true. She and Steve were still navigating long distance in a post-Jonathan-breakup world. It wasn’t perfect yet, so no promises were made. But history weighed heavy on them.

Sal reached out to pluck at Nancy’s old sweatshirt, the one she’d cut the neck out of to make it drape around her shoulders like Jennifer Beals in Flashdance. It was a comfort thing, an old blanket, a teddy bear. “A Hawkins Tiger, no doubt?”

“Used to be.”

“And what does a Hawkins Tiger know about pussy?” This, Sal had whispered into the shell of her ear, arm tightening around her waist. Her lips met that spot of skin behind Nancy’s ears that she liked to have touched, how did Sal know that. Giggling lowly, Nancy tilted her head to meet Sal’s lips, the kiss so small and so delicate that it hardly felt like launching anything at all. No great pull, no absolute passionate urgency.

Suddenly, as Sal flushed her chest against Nancy’s and deepened the kiss, she had a vision of splattered watermelon.

Projectiles are so dangerous.

“They know… more than you’d think,” Nancy said, and smiled, and slipped away from Sal and into the darkness of her bedroom.

Better to be safe than sorry.

The second time Nancy kissed a girl, she didn’t even look like herself.

She had come stomping into her best friend’s off-campus apartment (this girl being one year her senior) with her makeup kit in hand, like she was cashing in a makeover coupon that was about to expire. “Please, help me out here. I need to– it needs to be different this time.”

Now, that statement could have meant anything; it being New Years Eve, which they were about to celebrate, it being the most recent iteration of her breakup with Steve, it being her entire vision of herself.

Nancy was fashioned into a vixen of epically out-of-her skin proportions, but she loved it. And maybe it was the bottle of cheap champagne they’d indulged in while getting ready, but she couldn’t quit gazing at her sparkling sapphire eyelids, the dress with chains for straps draping over her lithe little frame, the body waves her perm had been gelled into. She felt so far away from the hardheaded provincial do-gooder she’d admonished herself for being, a tiny bumpkin of a fish in the humongous, rushing, risque pond of college life. She felt alive and mischievous, like a nymph, her blood sparkling in her veins like the bubbles in her coupe.

She and her best friend set off out to a party, shivering against the sub-zero temperatures and whooping like hyenas all the way there. Arms linked, sharing what little body heat they had, their mood soon flatlined as they settled into the festivities– average college fare, you know, with all of their other friends already paired off for their New Years’ kisses. They were the only two single people there, it seemed– she, recently liberated and her best friend, taking her seasonal sabbatical from mistletoe-themed hookups. It reminds her too much of a boy she knew in high school, though she’d never admit that.

But Nancy knows. And Nancy loves her, despite the collegiate wild streak that has alienated her a little bit. And Nancy wanted to show her as much.

Before the countdown even began, Nancy entwined their glitter painted fingers and said, “Hey! Promise me something?”

“Anything, Pants.”

“Promise me we’ll always be as fun as we are right now,” she said, beaming. “Promise that no matter what happens, we’ll never lose it.”

Aw! her best friend had mouthed, and took Nancy’s heart-shaped face in her hands. She leaned in, lips pulling Nancy’s in. Like tulip petals, Nancy had thought, but hadn’t exactly known why. They kissed and kissed, as the countdown raged and the ball dropped into sparkling smithereens. And as she felt her best friend’s tongue try and brace against her lips, Nancy pulled away. They stood together, forehead-to-forehead, giggling again.

When their bubbles finally flattened, they spent the rest of the night and much of the morning talking about what life would be like if they could be together– because as much as Nancy loved her, and as fun as kissing her was, it was no watermelon. “It was a gas,” her best friend said, in that Fitzgeraldian way she had about her.

They would celebrate the anniversary of what could have been, if they only worked out every year after.

Her first year out of college, Nancy spent her nights praying for a thrill. Six months filled with pulling doubles at a college bar in Indianapolis, hospital rooms, speaking to doctors when her mother couldn’t, fighting against her brother’s sullen silences and explaining to her sister what remission meant. Misery metastasized into monotony. She started staring down watermelons at the market.

And she knows that’s a terrible thing to say and think, but it’s true. Even with all the support she had from Steve, who never knew exactly what to do when she’d report on her father’s diminishing health with the cadence of a newscaster, or even the help she was getting from Eddie, who took her on as a roommate in his shithole apartment. He got her a job in that divey college bar so she could be closer to her family as they all fell apart, shuttling her back and forth to Hawkins in his van. He was a better sibling to Mike than she ever was, she thought. Mike certainly seemed to like him more.

The first time Nancy Wheeler realizes she really, really, really wants to kiss a girl, she stinks of fryer grease and spilled beer. And she should have expected it.

Expected to see her, anyway.

Steve had told her about it weeks ago, but she had smoked half a joint of Eddie’s without telling either of them and zoned out. Very unlike the Nancy Wheeler that Hawkins had once known.

She should have expected to see her, but here she is. Like a shock to the system, a last alarm. Nervous hands curved around a glass of Pilsner. Baseball cap on backwards. Cheeks ruddy with the chill of the city.

“Oh! Hey– hi, Robin.”

#powder room talk #Anonymous #n. wheeler by powder #nancy wheeler fic #nancy wheeler x reader #(if you squint 👀👀👀)#ronance fic #nancy wheeler IS a lesbian #blurbs

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eldritch-thrumming · 1 year

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Nancy Wheeler has always considered herself to be a practical kind of person. She keeps to her schedule, she gets her work done, she makes good decisions for her future. That’s why she can’t believe she’s ended up here, stuck at a minimum wage job at the new Starcourt Mall.

If she’s really honest with herself, Nancy can admit that it was a little bit of wishful thinking and a lot of overconfidence that led her here. She’d applied for a really competitive internship out in Indianapolis for the summer and she’d been so sure she was going to get it. Her application was impeccable and she’d thought the interview had gone so well that she’d quit her after school job at the Hawkins Post that same day. All she’d been allowed to do there was order the office lunches and make coffee on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays anyway, so it wasn’t like it was some kind of great loss to her. She’d practically added a line to the resume that was sitting in her desk drawer just waiting to be turned in to college admissions offices in the fall.

And then the call hadn’t come. She’d waited two weeks and then finally given in and called the Indianapolis Star to ask about the status of her application. She’d held the phone in a white knuckle grip as the man on the other end had told her that, while she’d certainly been impressive in her interview, they’d decided to go in a different direction. They’d be sure to keep her in mind for any future positions, he’d assured her. She’d said “thank you” and slammed the phone back into its cradle; she knew exactly what men like that meant when they used the words “different direction.”

So now, Nancy Wheeler was trudging out to the new mall all the way across town everyday, wearing a ridiculous sailor costume and slinging ice cream alongside Eddie Munson, Hawkins High’s resident drug dealer and repeat senior. If anyone asked her--not that they ever would--she’d tell them this was far stranger than watching a demogorgon rip its way through the walls of the Byers house. Stranger by a long shot.

~*~

Eddie Munson’s not sure how he got here. He’d had a good thing going with Reefer Rick. Decent weed, a place to crash when he didn’t feel like sleeping at the trailer, and a pretty great gig that paid the bills.

And then Rick had to go and get himself arrested. Without Rick, Eddie’s supply completely dried up and he had no other real connections in this shitty little town. So what was a guy to do? He couldn’t lay around the trailer all day. He had tapes to buy and gigs to get to. It wasn’t like he could go an entire summer without a cash flow. He’d only really had one option: the new shining temple to the great evils of Capitalism.

That’s how he found himself pulling on the most demeaning sailor uniform in existence every morning and taking his place next to Nancy Wheeler, the princess of Hawkins, behind the counter at Scoops Ahoy, preparing for a summer full of obnoxious tweens and their even more obnoxious mothers. It was going to be a long three months.

~*~

“Where’s Nancy?”

Eddie sighs, but doesn't take his eyes off the Rolling Stone he’s flipping through at the counter. Thank god for whoever’d left it at their table earlier this afternoon.

“Would it hurt you to be polite? What happened to ‘hello’? ‘How are you?’ ‘Could you please tell me where my sister is?’” Eddie says, finally looking up from his magazine to see little Wheeler scowling at him. Mike reaches over to slam his palm against the bell on the counter, something he knows drives Eddie absolutely insane.

“Hi, hello, how are you? Would you be so kind as to tell me where my darling sister is?” Mike responds, tone dripping with sarcasm.

Eddie sighs again, then calls out, “Wheeler, your demon spawn are here.”

Nancy comes shoving through the door to the backroom with clean ice cream scoops in one hand and a box of little pink sample spoons in the other. Her scowl matches Mike’s.

“I’m not letting you use our mall access for another free movie. Grow up, Mike,” she says, before Mike or his friends can even say anything.

“Come on, Nance, please?” Mike whines. “Will wants to see Day of the Dead and you know we can't get tickets for it.”

Eddie’s eyes shift from Mike to Will, who’s making the biggest, sweetest angel eyes over at Nancy. Eddie can’t help but snort; these kids are good.

“Ugh, fine! But this is the last time.” Nancy shoves the ice cream scoops into their slots by the coolers and then slides the box of spoons toward Eddie, who ignores them. Eddie watches as Nancy leads the kids into the back room. He’s flipped through a couple of more pages of his magazine before she’s back.

“You just got played, Wheeler,” he tells her as she opens the spoons Eddie had left untouched.

“Will’s... been through a lot. He deserves to see a damn movie.” Nancy doesn’t seem like she wants to elaborate on what she means by that, so Eddie lets it drop.

“How’d you end up here at Scoops anyway? Doesn’t seem like something Nancy Wheeler of all people would be that in to.”

Nancy sighs. “Thought I was gonna get this perfect internship in Indianapolis, but... I didn’t, obviously. My options were limited by the time school ended.” She works on replacing the spoons for a moment, before she says, “What about you? Red, white, and blue don’t really seem like your colors, no offense.”

“None at all taken, Wheeler,” Eddie smirks. “Let’s just say, I’m not that interested in seeing what the inside of a jail cell looks like right now.”

Nancy hums in response but doesn’t ask him to elaborate. Eddie knows his reputation often precedes him. He’s kind of into that, anyway.

Nancy rounds the counter with a rag to start cleaning sticky puddles of melted ice cream off the tables and Eddie returns to his magazine. They work in silence for the remainder of their shift.

~*~

Two days later, Eddie’s back behind the counter with that same Rolling Stone he keeps stashed under the cash register. He’s read the damn thing front and back so many times, he’s practically got it memorized.

“Hey, is Nance here?”

Eddie doesn’t have to look up to know who’s asking, but he does anyway. His eyes snap up to meet Steve Harrington’s gaze and he can feel his own heart racing a mile a minute. Of course the first time Eddie sees Steve Harrington after graduation, he’s wearing these stupid fucking sailor shorts. He feels his cheeks burning red.

“Uh, she’s on break. You need something?” Nancy usually takes her break in the back room, but today she’d apparently forgotten to bring her lunch, so she's gone out to the food court.

“Oh, uh. Yeah, just two scoops of strawberry, please? In a cone,” Steve glances to his left and Eddie becomes aware of the girl standing at his side for the first time. He vaguely recognizes her from school, thinks maybe she plays the trombone or the trumpet or something dorky like that. “You want anything?” Steve nudges the girl with her elbow.

“Can I get the Banana Boat with chocolate, vanilla, and strawberry, please? And extra whipped cream,” the girl says.

“That’s for four people,” Eddie tells her, raising his eyebrows.

The girl just smiles and then Steve says, “You've never seen her eat, man, it’s like a snake unhinging its jaw to swallow a baby whole, seriously.” He pulls out his wallet as he speaks.

Eddie laughs nervously. “I’ll take your word for it. That all?”

Steve smiles, seemingly pleased that Eddie laughed at his joke. “That’s it, man, thanks.”

Eddie tells him the total, takes his money, and then works on the Banana Boat for Robin. He slides it across the counter to her and watches as her eyes light up at the mountain of whipped cream he’d piled on top. Eddie grabs a cone and scoops out some strawberry. And so what if he makes the scoops just a little bigger than he normally would?

Eddie hands the cone to Steve over the counter, their fingertips brushing.

“Thanks,” Steve says, and his pink tongue darts out to catch a piece of ice cream that’s about to fall from the cone. Eddie’s brain short circuits watching him. “Can you tell Nancy we stopped by?”

“Yeah, no problem.” Eddie hopes his voice doesn’t sound as strangled and strained as he thinks it does.

Steve takes another lick from his cone. Eddie’s eyes track the movement hungrily. “Wow, this is great. We’ll definitely be back. See you around?” Steve smiles at him again and Eddie feels like he can’t breathe. He couldn’t speak even if he wanted to, so he just nods and waves, which makes Steve’s smile grow bigger before he’s turning and guiding the girl out of the store and into the busy mall. Eddie watches them go, eyes fixed out the door long after they’ve disappeared from view.

~*~

Nancy sits at the food court and contemplates her life. She’s seventeen years old, working at an ice cream shop, and sneaking her kid brother into R rated movies. How did it all come to this?

She knew her job at the Hawkins Post had been a dead end. She was supposed to be a journalism intern, but they’d treated her like their own personal assistant and didn’t even allow her to sit in on pitch meetings or read any drafts before they were sent to print. She’d encouraged Jonathan to take on the photography internship and he’d had more access to the actual news writing than she ever had.

Nancy didn’t consider herself a particularly bitter person, but that had left a terrible taste in her mouth. She knew it wasn’t Jonathan’s fault, that it was a flaw in the system not in how Jonathan saw her, but she couldn’t stomach it when he defended the way she was treated. He was always telling her they were interns and they were just lucky to be there. He didn’t get it.

That’s why she hadn’t felt too bad about breaking things off when she’d quit the Post, so sure that she was destined for bigger and better things out in Indianapolis. Nancy loved Jonathan, she really, really did, and they’d been through so much together. But Jonathan’s ambitions had never really matched her own and she couldn’t ask him to wait around for her all summer, not when she wasn't sure she even wanted to come back. Besides, she was seventeen. No one met the love of their life at seventeen.

“Hey, Nance!” Nancy hears someone call to her from across the food court. Her neck snaps up from where she’s been staring at the congealed yellow substance masquerading as cheese on her fries to see Steve Harrington and Robin Buckley walking toward her. Steve’s got a dripping pink cone in his hand and Robin’s got a half eaten Banana Boat. Nancy sighs. She doesn’t like it when people she knows see her in this stupid fucking outfit.

“Hey, Steve,” she says, trying her bast to smile. “How’s it going?”

“Ah, you know, doing this stupid fucking job my dad got me for the summer,” Steve tells her. Nancy had heard something about Steve getting hired at the Post not long after she’d quit. She hadn’t really been able to believe it, but Mr. Harrington pulling some strings for his son made a lot of sense. “This is Robin, she’s another intern there. I think you guys are the same year?”

“Yeah, I know Robin,” Nancy smiles at the girl next to Steve, who seems too preoccupied with the half melted concoction in her hands to really pay attention to Nancy and Steve’s conversation.

“We were just stopping in to Scoops to see you,” Steve tells her. “Thought you were still at the Post, but then Jonathan said you’d quit? Dustin mentioned you were here now.”

“Yeah, you know, thought I’d get some real-world experience. Make some money. Develop some people skills.” Nancy doesn’t want to admit that she’d made such a huge mistake, doesn't want anyone to know how sure she’d been, only to be shot down in a single phone call. It’s bad enough that Jonathan and Eddie know just how foolish she’d been and she doesn’t even really care what Eddie thinks of her, which is the whole reason she’d even told him in the first place.

“Right.” Steve gets that little frown line in between his brows that Nancy had once thought was the cutest thing ever, back in another life. “Well, we have to get back so...”

“Yeah, no, me too. Break’s almost over. Can’t leave Munson alone with all that ice cream for too long.” It’s a lame joke. Nancy can relate.

She gathers her half-eaten fast food and heads for the trash can. She tries her hardest not to look back at Steve and Robin as she walks back toward Scoops.

Inspired by this post.

#nancy wheeler #stranger things #stranger things 4 #stranger things 3 #eddie munson #steddie #steddie ficlet #ronance #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfic #steddie fic #I posted a shorter version of this and it FLOPPED so hopefully people like this? idk #steve harrington #robin buckley #Nancy Eddie friendship when???#steddie blurb #my writing

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caroldantops · 2 years

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for nancy hours <3

being nancy’s punk outcast gf who’s hella intimidating on the outside but secretly nancy’s slutty sloppy pup (we be out here with the opposite aesthetics). occasionally nancy will let robin join in so one night robin is fucking you doggy style thanking nancy for letting her take your sloppy pussy <3 every time you start to moan and forget your task and robin stops thanking her for letting her use you she shoves your head back into her pussy and pulls on robins leash so she can’t buck anymore waiting till she’s satisfied to let the two of you continue <33

- 🍓

this is absolutely POSSESSING my brain right now jesus christ i changed it a lil bit but !!

this was probably better before tumblr deleted 3/4 of it and i had to rewrite it but whatever whatever whatever

18+ only, minors dont look at me i s2g

i want this w throuple you x ronance, nancy being her cute lil seemingly prim and proper girlboss self, robin being her cool on the outside geeky on the inside self, and u being a lil angry punk who's besties with eddie and def steal his jackets that r too big on u but you dont care because it makes u look intimidating.

people always assume you call the shots since you’re always throwing snarky comments around and have some serious RBF. robin always plays along too, saying that you give nancy and her ‘scary dog privileges’ (modern au ig jdflkgjd) and you joke about how you’re their guard dog - and if ur eddies bestie i can imagine u being an annoying lil freak and doing a lil growl or baring ur teeth with robin says this i just think that would b cute <3

nancy always lets you and robin have your fun, then the second you get back to your apartment, she’s telling you both, “kneel.”

she collars both of you up, tugging yours to pull you forward. “guard dog, huh? i thought you were my sweet little puppy. guess i was wrong.”

“no, i am miss! i’m your sweet puppy.”

“mm doesn’t sound like it. sounds like you’re a big tough girl who doesn’t need me.”

“no please, i do, ‘m sorry”

“prove it.”

and then u end up with your face between nancy’s thighs, lapping messilyat her cunt just the ways she likes it. to keep her occupied, nancy ordered robin to fuck you from behind. robin’s groans and whimpers mix with your own as she ruts into u sloppily, resisting the urge to press herself fully against ur back and just jerk into u as fast as possible.

nancy tugs at robin’s leash occasionally, ordering her to slow down or speed up, all while her other hand is on the back of your head, basically rubbing your face over her pussy to get off.

“not such a tough dog now huh? you’re just a messy puppy, arent you? all you needed to keep that bratty mouth shut was my clit in it. make me cum and maybe i’ll only edge you once tonight.”

#c: nancy wheeler #c: robin buckley #s: ronance #blurb #silver writes #IM ACTUALLY KIND OF OBSESSED W TOUGH PUNK READER X RONANCE...

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ronanceisintheair · 2 years

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"Robin do you want anything?" Nancy asked, looking over at the other, seated in the passenger seat.

They'd been studying all day and Robin was starting to behave like a cooped up dog; restlessly pacing their small Boston apartment, flipping through the television channels, and unintentionally reading out loud from the text book.

Nancy loved getting to share a space with Robin; it was new, it was comforting and safe, but it also came with some growing pains.

Nothing Nancy couldn't learn to love, just things that would take a little adjustment and understanding. Which Nancy was always open to.

"I want to kiss you," Robin blurted out, brow creased, eyes drawn to the soft pucker of Nancy's glossed lips.

Nancy's eyes softened, eyelids relaxing, hand raising so fingers could carefully run along Robin's jaw. "That's so sweet, but I meant like a drink or something," blue eyes darted towards the menu of the drive thru.

#ronance #robin x nancy #nancy x robin #i think thoughts and write blurbs #ronanceisintheair

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infinite-orangepeel · 1 year

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welcome to the fruity four apartment, where every day eddie puts this exact sign on the front door and nancy promptly replaces it with one that says “doorbell broken! please knock :)” they are informally at war because of this (don’t worry they are still besties)

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longlivefanfic-net · 1 year

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hi friends!! i know i owe everyone a nice smutty bbygirl steve harrington/reader fic but um. would we possibly be interested in a slowburn ronance enemies to friends to lovers medieval au.

this is a genuine question, i think im def going to write it, but like. does anyone else actually want this? i could post wips on here and chapter updates on ao3 i think? let me know please!

#ronance #ronance blurb #stranger things #my fic #stranger things fan fiction #stranger things fanfiction #robin buckley fanfiction #robin buckley #nancy wheeler fanfiction #nancy wheeler

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applewillowstone · 14 days

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😬🍯👄 for Robin x Nancy?

Please?

ASK A BLURB

😬- confessing their feelings

🍯- friends to lovers

👄- sharing their first kiss

—

“Miss perfect.” Robin said sarcastically.

Nancy rolled her eyes, turning on her pillow a little more to face Robin. “Uh huh, well this ‘perfect’ girl saved your butt how many times now?”

Robin gave a passionate speech that Nancy couldn’t even begin to understand because her eyes flicked to her friend lips. Nancy invited her over to spend the night sure but something been bubbling over the past couple of weeks. She wanted Robin in more ways than she should have.

“Nancy? Are you even listening?” Robin laughed as she booped Nancy nose.

Nancy didn’t say anything and apparently that spooked Robin.

“Oh- crap, did I misread something? See this is why I say that unless you tell me I don’t understand.” Robin gave a shrug.

Nancy took that as reasoning to tell Robin how she felt. She grabbed her friend’s shoulders as she leaned forward to press a soft kiss to Robin’s lips. It was delicate as her feelings were left outside of her heart now. She broke the kiss as fast as she could, and yet she barely moved an inch from Robin.

“I really, really like you.” Nancy breathed against Robin lips. She waited for a moment for her friend to respond, her eyes searched hers to any clue. “Robin?”

“S-Sorry. I’m still here.” Robin blinked as she kissed Nancy back with such haste that it made Nancy burst into laughter. Which in return had Robin belly laughing. Their hands slowly intertwining as Nancy waited for Robin to catch her breath before stealing it away with another kiss.

#HI ANON #idk who asked me this on anon but HELLO #this was cute to do so I hope you enjoyed #Apple blurbs #ronance

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snowangeldotmp3 · 1 year

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who the hell is robin?

(the winter soldier robin au)

(this is a mini au featuring platonic stobin and ronance! for reference; robin is the winter soldier, steve is the captain, nancy is the black widow. @suwunnysideup is the reason this exists, we got to talking abt it and i couldn't stop thinking abt it.)

They’re in broad daylight. In downtown Hawkins. Steve pants, body aching after receiving a blow from the metal arm. Nancy runs alongside him as they stare at the mysterious figure in all of the smoke and rubble. As the smoke clears, Steve catches a glimpse of a blonde bob, a familiar blonde bob. Is that…? She’s alive! A smile spreads like wildfire across his face. Nancy hangs back, squinting to see who it is. She grabs Steve’s arm, briefly holding him in place, “Steve,” she says, voice low, “I don’t think this is a good idea.”

Steve yanks his arm free of her grasp, ignoring her warning. He gets closer to the blonde fringe, coughing through the smoke. The blonde begins to turn, and the reflection of sunlight on the metal arm nearly blinds him. His smile drops, a hard lump forming in his throat. He tries hard to swallow past it, forcing himself to speak. “Robin?” he gasps, tears brimming in his eyes and a sickening, lurching feeling in his stomach.

The blonde turns around, and Steve hears Nancy utter a soft oh my god–like a prayer. It’s her. It’s Robin! She’s alive! Oh my god.

Except she does not recognize them. Steve can see it in the way her eyes remain emotionless, dead. But, he thinks, and maybe he’s just a little too hopeful, he thinks that when he said her name, something registered in her eyes. It’s quickly replaced though, as her eyebrows furrow, fully facing him as she says, “Who the hell is Robin?” She draws the handgun from it’s holster and aims it straight at Steve. His best friend is gone.

Maybe not, he thinks, maybe she’s still in there. And it’s foolish and silly and full of hope, but he knows she’s in there. How does he know? She hesitated.

(Later, when Robin is sitting on the chair of the dreaded, but routine, memory wipe machine, sitting in silence as they routinely fix her arm, pieces of her (?) memory resurface. She looks to one of the Russian guards. “That man in the middle of town,” she starts, her own voice surprising her, “who...who was he?”

“You met him earlier, on a different mission.”

This does not convince Robin. No, she thinks. Her voice hoarse from disuse surprises her once again, “I knew him…”

The guards are angry. She can tell at the way they all tense when she says this. The head guard fills her in on what she’s done, what she can accomplish. But this does not satisfy her. It is an itch that she must scratch, a scab that she must pick at. Her voice is soft, but no longer hoarse, as if the return of her memory alone has made her stronger, somehow. “But I knew him…”

This is the final straw, and she briefly hears someone shout “Prep her!” as the rubber mouthpiece is routinely slid in her mouth and someone pushes her shoulders back, ensuring she sits properly before they place the electromagnetic plates on her skull. She clenches her teeth, waiting for the inevitable, but all she can think about before they pull the switch is; I knew him. I knew him. Don’t forget. I knew him. I knew him. I know him.

They pull the switch, and the cycle begins again.)

#stranger things #steve harrington #nancy wheeler #robin buckley #winter soldier robin au #ronance #platonic stobin #hope y'all enjoy the blurb that came with this! i spent like 30 mins on it lol.#my writing #moodboard #ronance moodboard #yes this sprung from the flayed robin winter soldier post from a few days ago #i couldnt get the angst of winter soldier robin out of my head #AGAIN THIS IS PLATONIC!!! STOBIN!!! I DON'T SHIP THEM #ronance as buckynat tho.... hehehehe #although i was thinking about doing a steddie one shot based on the winter soldier as well. hm #maybe i'm still thinking about it... we'll never know.#if anyone wants to talk abt THAT idea....lemme know bc i have Ideas

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