radzxvz
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Robin Buckley hates Nancy Wheeler. She hates her for what she did to Steve Harrington, for the way one thing detonated his life and left him hollowed out.
Nancy Wheeler, on the other hand, doesn’t hate Robin, she just doesn’t think she deserves anything better than the slow punishment she’s been giving herself ever since.
Forced into each other’s orbit through school work, and Steve himself, Robin and Nancy navigate a battlefield of sharp words, buried guilt, and unresolved pain. What starts as mutual resentment slowly fractures into something softer, more dangerous, understanding.
(Guys, I promise this is one of my best works yet and you will NOT be disappointed. It's not all sad <3)
TW!! (ED, BULIMIA, SMOKING, ANGST, ONE MENTION OF SH)
Bookmarked by radzxvz
09 Apr 2026
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'It had never taken anyone this long to write a phone number. Both because Robin was really trying to make sure her handwriting was legible, and because she was having trouble remembering what her phone number even was at 7:47 in the morning while she held Nancy Wheeler’s hand. Not for any weird reason, they had just never touched hands when their lives weren’t in danger. It was different, that was all.
“I think that’s right.” She mumbled as she dropped Nancy’s hand and offered the pen back.
“You think?” Nancy smiled at her, teasing, pulling a smile through the cloud of fatigue that had been keeping Robin’s face in an unconscious grimace all morning.
“It’s so early…” She said by way of explanation. Nancy chuckled.'
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post s4 everybody lives split pov ronance becoming close friends and pretending they're not deeply in love until it's ridiculous
Bookmarked by radzxvz
09 Apr 2026
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- Words:
- 254,418
- Works:
- 3
- Bookmarks:
- 41
Bookmarked by radzxvz
09 Apr 2026
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Robin had been in love with Nancy since high school, it was finally time to let go. After all, Nancy doesn't like girls. Right?..
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all's well that ends well (to end up with you) by mfst4rb0y
Fandoms: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
07 May 2022
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“Shut up.” And she pulls Robin back down to her lips.
Nancy doesn’t know how long they stand there, making out in the kitchen like a couple of horny teenagers (which, she supposes, they technically are—she’s not twenty until next year and Robin’s only just turned nineteen). It’s long enough for their kisses to turn desperate, for Robin’s lips to move from her mouth to her neck, nipping and biting just light enough to avoid leaving a mark, for her hands to move upwards under Nancy’s shirt, carefully tracing the bottom of her bra. Long enough for Nancy to weave her fingers into Robin’s hair, pulling her closer, for her free hand to travel to the waistband of Robin’s jeans, scratching gently over the skin just above it.
Long enough that Nancy’s senses are overwhelmed by Robin enough for them to miss the footsteps coming up the stairs.
“Oh my god, my eyes!”