please can u write a story where Frank Langdon and a younger girl from the hospital, an intern who’s been there for a little over 6 months, are secretly hooking up because he’s still married even though the marriage isn’t good, and during some teasing between them she tells Frank to take off his wedding ring to sleep with her and he’s kind of shocked?
i’m not exactly sure where this story is going so feel free to make it happy or sad
Gold Lines, You Won't Cross
word count 1.2k
tysm for this!
The hospital didn’t feel quiet anymore. It felt like it was holding its breath.
Frank shut the on-call room door a little harder than he meant to, the latch clicking sharply in the silence. His shoulders were tight, jaw set, the kind of tension that had been building all night and hadn’t found anywhere to go. She was already there, perched on the edge of the bed as she had been before, in the same spot, same posture, but something about her felt different. Still.
Too still. “Thought you weren’t coming,” she said. He exhaled through his nose, dragging a hand down his face. “Yeah. Well. I did.” Not warm. Not teasing. She noticed. “Rough night?” “When is it not?” That earned him a look. Not sympathetic measured. “Okay,” she said slowly. “So we’re in a mood.” “I’m not in a-” He stopped himself, shaking his head. “Can we not do this right now?”
“Do what?” “This.” He gestured vaguely between them, already irritated. “The commentary.”
Her lips pressed together, but she didn’t back down. She never really did. “Fine,” she said. “No commentary.” Frank stepped closer anyway, like muscle memory, like habit. Like if he could just fall into the same pattern, it would smooth everything over. It usually did. But when he reached for her, she caught his wrists. Again. He froze, a flicker of déjà vu hitting before the confusion settled in. “What now?” Her grip wasn’t tight, but it was firm enough to stop him. “I think,” she said, her voice carefully even, “you should take your ring off.” There it was. Frank blinked at her, like maybe he’d misheard. “…What?” “You heard me.” A short, disbelieving laugh escaped him. “No. No, I definitely didn’t, because that would be insane.” Her expression didn’t change. “I’m serious.” “Yeah, I got that part.” He pulled one wrist free, running a hand through his hair. “Since when do you care?” “Since always,” she shot back. “I just didn’t say anything.” “Well, maybe you should’ve kept it that way.” The words came out sharper than he meant, but he didn’t take them back. Her grip loosened, then dropped entirely. “Wow.” “Oh, don’t do that,” he snapped. “Don’t act like this is coming out of nowhere. You knew what this was.” “I do know what this is,” she said, her voice rising despite herself. “That’s exactly the problem.” “It wasn’t a problem yesterday.” “Yeah, well, yesterday I didn’t have to look at that while you-” She cut herself off, shaking her head, frustrated. “It’s not nothing, Frank.” “It is nothing,” he insisted. “It’s a ring. It doesn’t change anything.” “It changes everything.” They were both louder now, the careful quiet of the hospital forgotten. He scoffed. “You’re being dramatic.” “And you’re being a coward.” That landed. His expression hardened instantly, something cold sliding into place. “Excuse me?” “You heard me,” she said, echoing him this time, but there was no teasing in it. “You want to pretend this is just… compartmentalized, like you can walk in here and be someone else for an hour and then go back to your life like it doesn’t touch anything.” “That’s exactly what this is.” “No, it’s what you want it to be.” Frank let out a sharp laugh, pacing once across the small room before turning back to her. “You don’t get to rewrite the rules halfway through because you suddenly feel guilty.” “This isn’t about guilt.” “Then what is it about?” he demanded. She hesitated just for a second, but it was enough. “That’s what I thought,” he muttered. Her face flushed, anger flaring hotter now. “No, say it. Go ahead. Tell me what you think this is about.” “I think,” he said, voice low and cutting, “you’re getting attached, and now you’re trying to make it into something it’s not.” The words hit like a slap. Her breath caught, eyes widening not because it wasn’t a possibility, but because he said it so easily. “So that’s it?” she asked, quieter now. “That’s what you think of me?” “I think you knew the situation,” he said. “From the start.” “I did.” “Then don’t act surprised.” “I’m not surprised,” she snapped. “I’m just-” She stopped, pressing her lips together hard enough they almost disappeared. “I’m tired of pretending it doesn’t matter.”
“It doesn’t matter,” he repeated, more forcefully. “Then take it off.” The room went still. Again. They stared at each other, the challenge hanging thick in the air. Frank’s hand twitched at his side, but he didn’t look down at the ring this time. “No.” The word was immediate. Firm. Her expression cracked just slightly. “Why not?” “Because it’s not your place to ask that.” Something in her face shifted completely then. Hurt, sharp, and unmistakable. “Right,” she said, voice thin. “Of course it’s not.” “You’re crossing a line.” She let out a hollow laugh. “That’s funny, coming from you.” “Don’t,” he warned. “No, really,” she pushed, blinking rapidly now, emotion spilling over whether she wanted it to or not. “We’re way past lines, Frank, but this is where you draw it?” “You don’t get to.” “I don’t get to what?” Her voice broke, and she hated it, but she couldn’t stop now. “Ask you not to bring your marriage into this room? Into me?” “Stop.” “Or what?” she demanded. “You’ll leave?” He didn’t answer. That was answer enough. Her chest rose and fell too fast now, anger collapsing in on itself, turning into something messier. “God,” she whispered, shaking her head. “I feel stupid.” Frank’s jaw tightened. “That’s not my fault.” “No,” she said, a shaky laugh escaping. “No, it’s mine, right? For thinking for even a second that this meant more than”. “I never said that.” “You didn’t have to.” Silence crashed down between them. Heavy. Final. For a moment, it looked like he might say something else. Like he might soften, or explain, or- He didn’t. Instead, he grabbed his jacket from the chair, movements abrupt and angry. “Frank.” “Don’t,” he cut her off, already at the door. “You’re seriously just going to walk out?” He paused, hand on the handle, but he didn’t turn around. “That’s what you wanted, isn’t it?” he said flatly. “To make this complicated.” The words felt like a closing door before the actual one even moved. Then he was gone. The click echoed louder than it should have. For a second, she just stood there, staring at the empty space he’d left behind, like her brain hadn’t caught up yet. Then everything hit at once. Her breath stuttered, chest tightening painfully as the adrenaline drained out and left something raw in its place. “God,” she choked, pressing the heel of her hand to her mouth like she could hold it in. It didn’t work. The first sob broke through anyway, sharp, sudden, embarrassing in how loud it sounded in the quiet room. She sank down onto the edge of the bed, shoulders curling inward, hands gripping at the fabric of her scrubs as if it might ground her. It didn’t. Nothing did. “I’m so stupid,” she whispered to no one, the words dissolving into another broken sob. The room felt too small now. Too empty. Her gaze flicked to the side table automatically out of habit, expectation. But there was nothing there. No ring. No proof that any part of him had ever stayed. That might’ve hurt the most. Because it meant she’d been the only one who’d wanted something to be left behind. And now she was alone with it.
hi everyone i kinda lost my will to write due to college kicking my ass but i was wondering if yall would like me to write about the pitt ? if so please so requests !!
Summary: After the final battle in Hawkins, Y/N is trying to move on from the loss of Steve Harrington, the boy who stayed behind in the Upside Down so everyone else could survive. But strange things begin happening. Reality starts shifting, and Y/N finds herself waking up in different versions of her life. No matter the world, no matter the life, one thing never changes, Y/N always finds Steve, and she always falls in love with him. But as the timelines begin collapsing, Y/N discovers the truth. The Upside Down fractured reality, and Steve became the fault line holding it together. Only one timeline can survive, and in the one where the world is saved, Steve Harrington never made it out alive. Now Y/N must make an impossible choice: save the world and lose him forever, or save the boy she loves and let every other reality disappear.
word count - 3.1k
Chapter One - Three years later.
Three years later, Hawkins almost looked normal.
Almost. If you stood on Main Street long enough, you could almost pretend nothing had ever happened. The storefronts had fresh paint. The sidewalks had been repaired where the ground once cracked open like the town itself had been split in half. New streetlights buzzed softly overhead, replacing the ones that had shattered during the earthquakes that everyone insisted were just earthquakes. The town council called it reconstruction. The newspapers called it recovery. But people who actually lived in Hawkins knew better. Hawkins wasn’t rebuilding.
It was pretending. Pretending the sky hadn’t once torn open above them. Pretending monsters had never crawled out of the earth. Pretending a war had never been fought in the shadows of their quiet little town. Pretending boys and girls hadn’t died. Pretending heroes hadn’t been buried. You stood outside the rebuilt Hawkins High School with your hands shoved deep into the pockets of your jacket, staring at the parking lot. The asphalt was new. Fresh. Unscarred. It didn’t look like the place where everything had ended. You could still remember the night clearly, though. The screaming. The fire. The red lightning splitting the sky open. And him. You closed your eyes for a second. Three years. Three years since the final battle with the Upside Down. Three years since the gate finally collapsed for good. Three years since the world was saved.
Three years since Steve Harrington died. The wind brushed against your face, cold and restless, and you exhaled slowly before forcing yourself to move. Standing in the same places never helped. You’d learned that the hard way. Memories liked to live in places like this. They waited quietly in parking lots and empty streets, hiding in corners of buildings that had once meant something. All it took was one glance at the wrong spot, and suddenly it felt like the past was right there again. You turned away from the school and started walking down the sidewalk. Hawkins in November always smelled like damp leaves and cold pavement. Cars passed occasionally, their tires whispering against the road. Somewhere down the street, a radio played faintly through an open window.
Life had gone on.
That part had been the strangest. For weeks after the battle, you had expected the world to feel… different. Louder. Heavier. Like something enormous had happened. But the truth was much simpler. People mourned. People rebuilt. And then people kept living. The town bakery reopened. The grocery store stocked its shelves again. Kids went back to school. The world didn’t stop. Even though yours had. You crossed the street toward a small coffee shop that had opened last year, where an old pharmacy used to be. The bell above the door chimed softly when you stepped inside. Warm air wrapped around you instantly. “Morning,” the barista said from behind the counter. You nodded slightly. “Morning.” You ordered the same thing you always did. Coffee. Black. No sugar. The barista handed you the cup, and you moved toward a small table by the window. Outside, the town moved slowly. Normal. Peaceful. Safe. Exactly the way Steve would’ve wanted it. The thought came automatically. It always did. Sometimes you hated that. Because it meant he was still part of everything. Every quiet moment. Every normal day.
Every breath of peaceful air in a town that had once been a battlefield. You wrapped your hands around the coffee cup. Warmth seeped into your fingers. Across the street, two kids rode their bikes past the hardware store. Their laughter drifted faintly through the glass. For a moment, something tightened in your chest. Steve had always loved the kids. Even when he pretended he didn’t. You could still hear his voice sometimes, joking about how he had accidentally become a babysitter to half the town. You stared down into your coffee. Three years. And somehow it still felt like yesterday. The first glitch was small. So small you almost didn’t notice it.
You were halfway through your coffee when the clock on the wall above the counter caught your attention. 11:42 AM. You looked away. Took another sip. Looked back again. 11:41 AM. Your eyebrows pulled together slightly. That… wasn’t right. You stared at the clock. The second hand ticked forward normally. The minute hand moved. Everything looked normal. You shook your head slightly and looked away again. Maybe you had read it wrong. People misread clocks all the time. Especially when they were distracted. You finished your coffee, threw the empty cup away, and stepped back outside. Cold air hit your face again. The sky was pale gray. A typical Hawkins afternoon. Nothing unusual. Nothing strange. Nothing wrong. Except something tugged at the back of your mind. Like a memory that refused to come into focus. You frowned slightly as you started walking down the street again. It felt like you had forgotten something. Something important. But no matter how hard you tried to grab the thought, it slipped away. You turned the corner toward the small bookstore where you worked. The shop had survived the earthquakes surprisingly well, and the owner had reopened it a year after the battle. Working there had been… peaceful. Quiet. Books didn’t ask questions. They didn’t remind you of the past. Most days, you could hide between the shelves and pretend your life had always been normal. The bell above the door chimed softly when you stepped inside. “Hey,” your coworker called from behind the counter. “Hey.” You hung your coat on the rack and moved toward the back shelves.
The store smelled like old paper and dust. Comforting. Familiar. Safe. You started organizing a stack of returned books when something small caught your eye. A pen rolled slowly across the counter. You blinked. The counter was perfectly flat. There was no reason for the pen to move.
You stared at it as it rolled another inch. Then stopped. Your stomach twisted slightly. “Did you see that?” you asked. Your coworker looked up. “See what?” “The pen.” “What about it?” “It moved.” She glanced down at it. “It… rolled?” “No,” you said slowly. “I mean, it moved by itself.”
She gave you a puzzled look. “Maybe the counter’s uneven.” You looked at the surface. Perfectly level. You didn’t argue, though. You just nodded. “Yeah. Maybe.” But the uneasy feeling in your chest didn’t go away. The second glitch happened an hour later. You were shelving books near the back of the store when a strange wave of déjà vu washed over you.
Suddenly, you knew exactly what was about to happen. Your coworker would walk into the aisle.
She would say something about lunch. Then she would drop the stack of magazines she was carrying. The thought felt so clear it almost scared you. And then “Hey,” she said, stepping into the aisle. Your heart skipped. “I’m gonna grab lunch soon. You want anything?” She shifted the magazines in her arms. They slipped. And fell everywhere. Your breath caught in your throat. The magazines were scattered across the floor. She groaned. “Ugh. Seriously?” You stared at the mess. Your heart was beating too fast. “How did you-” you started. “What?” “Nothing.” You knelt down and helped her pick up the magazines. Your hands felt slightly shaky. Because you had known. Not guessed. Not predicted. Known. The moment had already happened somewhere in your mind. And you had no idea why. That night, Hawkins was quiet. You walked home alone through streets glowing faintly under yellow streetlights. The air smelled like rain.
Leaves rustled across the pavement. Everything felt normal again. Maybe you had imagined the strange things earlier. Stress could do weird things to the brain. Grief too. You unlocked the door to your apartment and stepped inside. The room was quiet. Dim. Your small kitchen light flickered faintly when you turned it on. You kicked off your shoes and moved toward the living room. And froze. The clock on your wall read: 8:17 PM. You blinked. Looked away. Looked back. 8:16 PM. Your stomach dropped. The minute hand slowly slid backward. Tick. 8:15 PM.
The room suddenly felt colder. Your breath caught in your throat as you stared at the clock.
That wasn’t possible. Clocks didn’t move backwards. Your pulse hammered in your ears.
Tick. 8:14 PM. A cold wave of fear crept down your spine. Something was wrong. Very wrong. The lights flickered softly. You took a step back. The air in the room felt heavy now. Like pressure building before a storm. And then the world shifted. Just for a second. The room blurred. Like reality had slipped out of focus. Your heart slammed against your ribs. You grabbed the edge of the table to steady yourself. The moment passed instantly. The room snapped back into place. Everything looked normal again. The clock read: 8:17 PM. Exactly where it had started. Like nothing had happened. You stood there breathing hard. Staring at the wall. Your mind racing. Because deep down, beneath the fear and confusion, a single thought echoed quietly in your chest. Something had just changed. Something in the world had moved out of place. And somewhere in the back of your mind, a memory flickered. Messy brown hair. A crooked smile. A voice you hadn’t heard in three years. Steve. Then the feeling disappeared.
And the first reality shift was complete. You didn’t sleep much that night. Every time you closed your eyes, you kept seeing the clock on the wall moving backward, the second hand ticking in reverse like time itself had forgotten which direction it was supposed to go. You tried to convince yourself there was a logical explanation. Faulty wiring. A broken clock. Your imagination running wild. But none of those explanations accounted for the way the room had blurred. Or the way the air had felt heavy, almost electric, like the moment before lightning strikes. Or the memory.
That brief flash of Steve’s face in your mind. You rolled over in bed and stared at the ceiling.
The apartment was quiet except for the occasional hum of the refrigerator in the kitchen.
Three years. Three years since the Upside Down. Three years since the final battle. Three years since the last time you had seen Steve Harrington standing under a blood-red sky with a bat in his hands and that stubborn determination on his face. You squeezed your eyes shut.
Sleep eventually came in short, restless pieces. Morning arrived gray and cold. Hawkins looked the same as always. That was the strangest part. After everything that had happened, the town had returned to its quiet rhythm like a record needle settling back into the same old groove.
People walked their dogs. Cars pulled out of driveways. Kids trudged toward school with backpacks slung over their shoulders. Normal. Perfectly normal. You poured yourself coffee in the kitchen and leaned against the counter while the kettle hissed softly on the stove. The clock above the sink read 7:12 AM. You stared at it for a long moment. It stayed still. Moving forward normally. Tick. 7:13. You exhaled slowly. Maybe last night had just been exhaustion. Maybe grief still played tricks on you sometimes. You grabbed your jacket and headed out. The walk to the bookstore took fifteen minutes. The sky hung low and pale over Hawkins, and the wind pushed dead leaves across the sidewalks in soft scratching sounds. Halfway down Maple Street, you passed the old movie theater. It had reopened last year after months of repairs. New posters filled the glass display cases. You slowed without meaning to. For a second, you could almost hear Steve’s voice again, loud and animated as he argued about which movie was better. You forced the thought away. Some memories were better left untouched. You kept walking. The bookstore was quiet when you arrived. Your coworker hadn’t shown up yet. You unlocked the door and stepped inside, flipping on the lights as you went. The warm glow filled the shop.
Dust floated lazily through the air. You moved behind the counter and set your bag down. The store had always been your safe place. Rows of books. Soft music playing from the radio near the register. The faint smell of paper and ink. Normal things. Real things. You flipped the OPEN sign in the window. The moment you did, the radio crackled. A burst of static filled the shop.
You frowned. “Seriously?” You tapped the side of the radio. The static continued for another few seconds before the music finally returned. You shrugged it off. Old building. Old wiring. Nothing weird about that. You started organizing the counter when something strange caught your attention. The calendar hanging on the wall. Yesterday’s page was still up. November 14. You reached up and tore it off. November 15 appeared beneath it. You tossed the page in the trash.
A minute later, you glanced up again. The calendar read: November 14. Your hand froze in the middle of stacking books. Slowly, you stepped closer. You stared at the page. November 14. You had just changed it. You were certain. Your fingers trembled slightly as you reached up again. You tore the page off once more. November 15. You watched it carefully this time. The page stayed still. Didn’t move. Didn’t change. You let out a shaky breath. “Okay,” you muttered quietly. “Definitely weird.” The bell above the door chimed. Your coworker walked in, shaking cold air from her jacket. “Morning.” “Morning,” you said, still staring at the calendar. She followed your gaze. “What?” “Did you change the calendar?” “No?” You pointed. “I just tore yesterday’s page off, but when I looked back, it was there again.” She blinked. “That’s… creepy.” “Right?” She shrugged and moved toward the back room. “Maybe you forgot.” You didn’t respond. Because you knew you hadn’t. The déjà vu returned around noon. You were helping a customer find a book when the feeling suddenly washed over you again. Strong. Sharp. The customer, a tall man with a blue jacket, was flipping through a paperback while asking questions. “Do you have anything by-” Your stomach dropped. You knew what he was about to say. Before he finished the sentence. “Stephen King?” the man asked. You swallowed. “Second shelf, horror section,” you answered automatically. The man looked surprised. “Oh. Thanks.” He walked away. You stood there frozen. Because the moment felt like it had already happened. Exactly the same. Word for word. You rubbed your temples. Your head was starting to ache. Something wasn’t right. That afternoon, Hawkins felt… different. Not obviously different. The streets looked the same. The buildings were the same. But something underneath the surface felt slightly off.
Like the world had shifted half an inch to the left. You closed the bookstore at five and stepped outside. The sun was already dipping low behind the trees. Golden light stretched across the street. You started walking home. Halfway down the block, you stopped suddenly. Your breath caught. Across the street was Family Video. Or at least where it used to be. The building had burned down during the chaos three years ago. You remembered watching the flames climb the walls. Remembered the roof collapsing. Remembered Steve running through the smoke with Dustin yelling behind him. But now the building stood perfectly intact. The bright red sign hung above the windows. Family Video. The glass doors reflected the fading sunlight. Your heart began pounding. “That’s not…” You whispered. You crossed the street slowly. Your footsteps felt heavy against the pavement. The doors were locked. Inside, rows of movies lined the shelves.
Exactly the way they used to. Like the last three years had never happened. You pressed your hand against the glass. Cold. Real. Your reflection stared back at you. “What the hell…?” you breathed. A car passed behind you. You turned instinctively. When you looked back, the building was gone. In its place stood the empty lot you remembered. Burned pavement. Broken concrete. Just like it had been for three years. Your heart slammed against your ribs. You stepped backward. “No,” you whispered. “No, no…” You turned and hurried down the street.
Your breathing came faster now. Your thoughts raced. The clock. The calendar. The déjà vu.
And now this. Reality was glitching. Just like a broken tape skipping pieces of time. That night, the wind howled softly outside your apartment windows. You sat at the kitchen table staring at a blank notebook. Finally, you picked up a pen. If something strange was happening, you needed to document it. You wrote slowly. November 15: Strange things are happening today. Then you listed them. The clock moved backward. Pen rolled by itself. Calendar rteset. Déjà vu moments.
Family Video appeared again. Your pen hovered over the page. Something inside you felt certain this wasn’t the end of it. You added one more line. Reality feels wrong. You closed the notebook and leaned back in your chair. Outside, thunder rumbled faintly in the distance. Your eyes drifted toward the window. The sky looked normal. Dark. Quiet. Peaceful. But you couldn’t shake the feeling that something enormous had shifted somewhere beyond what you could see.
Something old. Something connected to the Upside Down. And deep inside your chest, beneath the fear and confusion, another feeling stirred quietly. A strange certainty. Like a memory waiting to surface. Like someone just out of sight. Your fingers tightened slightly around the notebook.
Because for the briefest second, a thought crossed your mind. Not a memory. Not exactly. More like a whisper. A name. Steve. You frowned. That didn’t make sense. Steve was gone. He had been gone for three years. You had watched the gate close behind him. Watched the red lightning fade from the sky. Watched the world return to normal without him. You closed the notebook and stood up. “Get a grip,” you murmured. You turned off the kitchen light. The apartment fell into darkness. But as you walked toward your bedroom, something in the hallway mirror caught your attention. Your reflection stared back at you. But for a split second, just one second, you could swear someone was standing behind you. Tall. Messy-haired. Familiar. You spun around. The hallway was empty. Your heart pounded. Slowly, you turned back to the mirror. Only your reflection remained. You stared at it for a long moment. Then shook your head. “Definitely losing it,” you muttered. But as you turned away, the faintest flicker of movement crossed the mirror’s surface. Gone before you could see it clearly. Like reality itself had blinked.
And somewhere beyond the edges of the world, the timelines had begun to break. And soon, you would meet the boy who was supposed to be dead.
Finally, part 6! So sorry for the delay and for the short chapter. I am quite tired, but do enjoy!
word count - 990
The morning of the wedding arrived too quickly. Snow covered the castle grounds like a quiet blanket, soft and deceptively peaceful. Inside the castle, however, nothing was peaceful. Servants rushed through the halls carrying flowers, ribbons, and trays of food. Nobles from across the kingdom filled the corridors in shimmering silks and heavy winter cloaks. Everyone was smiling. Everyone was celebrating. Because today, Princess Robin Buckley was supposed to marry Prince Steven Harrington. And no one suspected anything.
Robin stood in front of a tall mirror while the final dressmakers adjusted the hem of her gown.
The dress was exactly as beautiful as everyone had promised. White silk. Silver embroidery. Long sleeves that shimmered when candlelight touched them. A princess’s dress. A queen’s dress. A dress meant for a life Robin didn’t want. Hidden beneath the sweeping hem were the boots. Dark leather. Practical. Ready. Robin flexed her toes inside them just to remind herself they were there. Just to remind herself, this was real. Behind her stood Captain Nancy Wheeler, arms folded, posture calm and steady like always. But Robin could see the tension in her shoulders. Nancy was watching the door like a hawk. A knock sounded outside. “Five minutes,” a servant called. Robin’s stomach twisted. The dressmakers finished their work quickly. “You look radiant, Your Highness,” one said softly. Robin forced a smile.“Thanks.” One by one, they left the room. The door shut. Silence filled the space. Robin stared at her reflection. “Well,” she murmured, “this is it.” Nancy stepped closer. “Yes.” Robin turned to face her. “What if this doesn’t work?” Nancy didn’t hesitate. “It will.” Robin studied her. “You sound very sure.” Nancy’s voice softened. “Because I won’t let anything happen to you.” Robin’s breath caught. From the great hall outside, music began to play. The ceremony was starting. Robin swallowed. “That’s our cue.” Nancy moved toward the door. “Ready?” Robin took one last look at herself in the mirror. The crown. The dress. The boots hidden beneath the silk. She took a breath. “Ready.”
The great hall was packed. Hundreds of nobles filled the rows of benches while torches flickered against the stone walls. At the altar stood Prince Steven Harrington. He looked perfectly composed. Perfectly royal. But inside his heart was pounding. Because he knew exactly what was about to happen. The officiant cleared his throat. “We gather today to celebrate the union between...” Steven lifted a hand. “Actually.” The hall went silent. The officiant blinked. “…Your Highness?” Steven stepped forward. “I have something to say.” Whispers rippled through the crowd. Kings leaned forward. Queens exchanged worried looks. Nobles murmured nervously. Steven inhaled slowly. Alright. Time to ruin a wedding. “I can’t marry her.”
The hall erupted. Gasps filled the room. “What?!” “This is absurd!” “You can’t just...” The officiant looked horrified. “Prince Harrington” Steven kept going. “I won’t do it,” he said loudly. His parents were already on their feet in shock. “Because I’m in love with someone else.” The chaos doubled instantly. Royal advisors shouted. Guards shifted nervously. Nobles argued loudly.
Everyone was staring at him. Exactly like he planned. Which meant no one noticed the quiet servant’s door behind the altar opening.
Nancy grabbed Robin’s hand. “Now.” They ran. The narrow corridor behind the hall was dim and empty. Robin gathered the skirt of her dress and sprinted as fast as she could. The boots helped. A lot. Behind them, the noise from the great hall grew louder. Someone shouted. “Find the princess!” Nancy cursed quietly. “They noticed.” Robin laughed breathlessly. “Well, yeah!”
They turned down another hallway. Nancy pushed open a door. Cold air rushed over them as they burst into the snowy courtyard behind the kitchens. The supply gate stood just ahead. Two guards turned in surprise. Nancy drew her sword instantly. “Step aside.” The guards hesitated when they recognized the captain. That hesitation was enough. Nancy shoved the gate open.
“Go!” Robin ran through. Nancy followed, slamming the gate behind them. Ahead of them stretched the dark forest. Freedom. They ran. Snow flew beneath their boots as they raced down the narrow path toward the river. Behind them, shouts echoed from the castle. Horses.
Guards. The search had begun. Robin’s lungs burned. “Nancy.” “Keep running.” Finally, through the trees. The river appeared. And there, tied to the bank, waited a small wooden boat. Robin laughed breathlessly. “He actually did it.” Nancy helped her climb in. Footsteps crashed through the trees behind them. Too close. Nancy shoved the boat away from shore and jumped in. “Go!”
Robin grabbed the oars. The boat glided into the dark water. Moments later, guards burst from the forest. But they were already too far out. Too late.
Meanwhile, in the great hall, chaos had fully taken over. Prince Steven stood at the altar surrounded by shouting nobles. “What do you mean you refuse the marriage?!” “This alliance is essential!” “Where is the princess?” A guard rushed forward. “Your Majesties!” Everyone turned.
“The princess is gone!” The room exploded again. “Gone?!” “How?!” Steven widened his eyes dramatically. “She’s… gone?” The guard nodded. “And Captain Wheeler is missing as well.” Steven placed a hand dramatically over his heart. “Well, that seems… concerning.” His father looked ready to collapse. “Find them!” someone shouted. “Search the grounds!” Guards rushed out of the hall. Steven stayed exactly where he was. Trying very hard not to smile. Because somewhere out beyond the forest, two people were finally free. And if everything went right, he’d soon be heading home to see Genevieve again.
The castle lights faded behind them. Snow fell gently onto the quiet river. Robin rowed while Nancy sat across from her, watching the dark shoreline carefully. Finally, Robin laughed softly.
“We actually did it.” Nancy reached across the boat and took her hand. “Yes.” Robin squeezed her fingers. “No more weddings.” Nancy smiled slightly. “Agreed.” And as the boat drifted farther into the winter night.
part 5 or ? No idea yet, still working on that, but updates may be slow, I am a bit busy with work and get over very late, so I apologize ahead of time!
Summary: They finally bring up their idea of running to Prince Steven
word count: 2.1k
Winter had settled over the castle. The gardens were buried beneath a quiet layer of snow, the hedges dusted white, and the fountains frozen into pale glass sculptures. The cold air made every breath visible. Which, apparently, made it the perfect setting for another courtship event. Princess Robin and Prince Steven were currently being encouraged by several enthusiastic nobles to take a walk through the winter garden together. Romantic. Or at least that’s what everyone watching seemed to believe.
Robin trudged through the snow beside Steven, wrapped in a heavy blue cloak trimmed with white fur. Her boots crunched loudly with each step. “This,” she muttered under her breath, “is freezing.” Steven adjusted the clasp on his own cloak. “Careful,” he said lightly. “If the nobles hear you insulting their carefully planned romantic outing, they might faint.” Robin gestured at the snow-covered hedges. “They put us outside in winter.” Steven nodded thoughtfully. “That’s true love.” Robin snorted. A few steps behind them walked Captain Nancy. Her armor had been replaced with a thick winter cloak, but her sword still hung at her side. She kept the careful distance expected of a royal guard. But her attention wasn’t on the snow. It was on the two people in front of her. Steven noticed her watching. He leaned slightly closer to Robin. “Your knight still looks like she’s considering murder.” Robin muttered back, “She’s thinking.” “That’s worse.” Robin glanced briefly over her shoulder. Nancy gave the smallest nod. Now. Robin swallowed. “Steven,” she said quietly. The prince glanced at her. “That sounds serious.” “Hypothetically,” Steven groaned immediately. “Oh no.” Robin ignored him. “Hypothetically, what would you do if you didn’t have to marry me?” Steven stopped walking. Robin nearly walked into him. “…That’s a bold hypothetical.” Robin shrugged slightly. “Answer the question.” Steven looked around quickly. Several nobles were walking far enough behind that they couldn’t hear. Nancy slowed her steps to stay just behind them. Steven lowered his voice. “Why are we talking about this?” Robin glanced at Nancy. Nancy stepped closer. Steven noticed immediately. “Okay,” he said slowly. “Now I’m concerned,” Nancy spoke quietly. “You told me last night about the girl in your kingdom.” Steven stiffened slightly. “…Genevieve.”
Robin nodded. “You still love her.” Steven looked down at the snow. “Yes.” Robin took a breath.
“What if you could go back to her?” Steven blinked. “I’m sorry?” Nancy spoke calmly. “What if the marriage never happened?” Steven stared at both of them. The snow fell softly around them. “You’re joking.” Robin shook her head. “No.” Steven laughed once, sharp and disbelieving. “Okay. I’m going to need more explanation than that.” Nancy lowered her voice further. “We leave.” Steven blinked. “…Leave?” Robin gestured between herself and Nancy. “We run.” Steven stared at them like they had just suggested burning the castle down. “You’re serious.” “Yes.” Steven rubbed his face with both hands. “Oh, my god.” Robin tried to look reassuring. “This is a good plan.” Steven dropped his hands. “This is an insane plan.” Nancy didn’t argue. “Yes.” Steven pointed at the castle behind them. “That is two kingdoms' worth of political disaster.” Robin nodded. “Also, yes.” Steven looked at Nancy. “You’re the responsible one. Why are you encouraging this?” Nancy’s voice was steady. “Because I love her.” Steven froze. Robin turned slightly red. Steven slowly looked between them. Then he sighed deeply. “Oh.” Robin rubbed the back of her neck. “Yeah.” Steven exhaled into the cold air. “So let me get this straight.” He counted on his fingers. “You two want to disappear.” “Yes.” “You want me to help.” “Yes.” “And you think the royal families won’t immediately start a manhunt across the continent.” Nancy answered calmly. “They will.” Steven stared at her. “You’re not making this sound better.” Robin stepped closer to him. “But if the wedding doesn’t happen…” Steven looked at her. “…My parents lose their alliance.” Robin nodded. “And you’re free to go home.” Steven’s expression softened slightly. “To Genevieve.” Robin nodded again. Snowflakes drifted slowly between them. Steven stared at the ground for a long moment. Finally, he muttered, “This is completely reckless.” Robin smiled nervously. “Probably.” Steven shook his head. “You two are going to start an international scandal.” Nancy said quietly, “Maybe.” Steven sighed again. Then he looked up at the sky. “You know,” he said slowly, “I was expecting this visit to be awkward.” Robin tilted her head. “Not revolutionary?” Steven laughed under his breath. “Not revolutionary.” He looked at them both again. “You’re serious about this.” Nancy didn’t hesitate. “Yes.” Robin nodded. “Yes.” Steven stared at them. Then he sighed. “Give me a minute.” He started walking again through the snow. Robin and Nancy followed. After several long seconds, Steven muttered, “You know my parents are going to lose their minds.” Robin grinned slightly. “That’s a risk.” Steven shook his head again. “This is still insane.” Nancy said calmly, “Will you help us?” Steven didn’t answer immediately. Snow crunched under their boots. Finally, he said quietly, “…Maybe.” Robin brightened instantly. “Maybe?” Steven pointed a finger at her. “Don’t celebrate yet.” Then he added, “If this works… I could go back to Ravaryn.” Robin smiled. “And Genevieve.” Steven looked out across the snowy garden. His voice softened. “…Yeah.” Then he sighed again. “You two are unbelievable.” Robin grinned. “But?” Steven groaned. “But I’ll listen to the rest of your plan.”
Two nights before the wedding, the castle was quieter than usual. Snow pressed softly against the tall windows of the west tower, and the wind carried a low whistle through the stone corridors. Most of the castle believed Princess Robin was already asleep. Instead, she was sitting on the edge of a long wooden table in an unused council chamber, her legs swinging restlessly while she waited. Across the room, Captain Nancy stood near the door, listening carefully for footsteps in the hall. Robin sighed. “This feels extremely illegal.” Nancy didn’t look back. “It probably is.” Robin kicked her heels lightly against the table. “Great.” The door creaked open. Both of them turned instantly. Prince Steven slipped into the room and quickly shut the door behind him. He brushed snow from his cloak. “You know,” he muttered, “sneaking around castles in the middle of the night is a lot harder than it looks in stories.” Robin grinned. “You’re late.” Steven pointed at her. “Do you know how many guards your knight friend has stationed in this hallway?” Nancy crossed her arms. “They’re doing their job.” Steven looked around the empty room. “Well, congratulations, Captain. I feel very protected.” Robin hopped off the table.
“So?” Steven sighed. “So.” He leaned against the wall. “I’ve been thinking about your absolutely insane plan.” Robin clasped her hands eagerly. “Good insane or bad insane?” Steven considered. “…Both.” Nancy stepped forward slightly. “We don’t have much time.” Steven nodded. “I know.” He glanced between them. “Alright. Let’s say we do this.” Robin brightened immediately. Nancy remained calm but hopeful. Steven held up a finger. “The biggest problem is the wedding itself.” Robin groaned. “Yes, we noticed.” Steven ignored her. “The ceremony will have half the kingdom in attendance.” Nancy nodded. “Which means chaos if something goes wrong.” Steven snapped his fingers. “Exactly.” Robin frowned slightly. “…That sounded like you had an idea.” Steven smiled faintly. “I do.” Nancy leaned forward slightly. “What kind of idea?”
Steven looked between them. “A distraction.” Robin’s eyes lit up. “Oh, I love distractions.” Nancy narrowed her eyes. “What kind?” Steven began pacing slowly. “The wedding ceremony starts in the great hall.” Robin nodded. “I walk down the aisle.” Steven pointed at himself. “Exactly.” Nancy followed his thought. “Everyone’s attention will be on the altar.” Steven smiled. “Right.” Robin tilted her head. “So where does the chaos come in?” Steven stopped pacing. “With me.”
Nancy raised an eyebrow. “You’re going to interrupt your own wedding?” Steven shrugged. “Dramatically.” Robin laughed. “Oh, this I need to hear.” Steve leaned on the table. “Picture it.”
He gestured like a storyteller. “You’re about to walk down the aisle.” Robin mimed holding flowers. “Beautiful. Elegant.” Steven continued. “And right before the ceremony starts…” Nancy folded her arms. “You do something reckless.” Steven grinned. “Exactly.” Robin laughed again.
“Like what? Setting something on fire?” Steven blinked. “…Okay, maybe not that reckless.” Nancy sighed. “We need confusion, not a disaster.” Steven nodded. “Right.” He tapped the table thoughtfully. “I could publicly refuse the marriage.” Robin’s eyebrows shot up. “That would definitely cause chaos.” Nancy considered it. “The nobles would panic.” Steven nodded. “And while everyone is focused on me…” Nancy finished the thought. “We disappear.” Robin blinked.
“Wait.” They both looked at her. Robin pointed between them. “Disappear where?” Steven looked pleased. “I knew you’d ask.” He reached into his cloak and pulled out a folded map. Nancy stepped closer as he spread it across the table. “This is the forest road behind the castle,” Steven said. Nancy studied it carefully. “There’s a supply gate here.” Steven nodded.
“Behind the kitchens. Barely guarded during ceremonies because everyone’s inside watching the wedding.” Robin leaned over the map, squinting like she was trying to memorize every turn of the road. “And we escape through there?” Nancy traced the route with her finger. “We’d reach the river within an hour.” Steven smiled. “And there’s a boat waiting.” Robin blinked. “You already arranged that?” Steven shrugged. “I told you I was considering the insane plan.” Nancy looked up at him. “You’re serious about helping us.” Steven shrugged again. “If this works, I get to go home.” Robin smiled softly. “To Genevieve.” Steven nodded. “Yes.” Silence settled briefly over the room. Then Robin said, “Okay, but there’s still one problem.” Nancy glanced at her. “What?” Robin pointed at herself. “I’m supposed to be standing in a wedding dress.” Steven grinned. “The world’s least practical escape outfit.” Nancy thought for a moment. “Can you move in it?” Robin shrugged. “Technically.” Steven raised an eyebrow. “That doesn’t sound encouraging.” Robin spread her hands. “It’s a wedding gown, Steven. It’s designed for standing still and looking decorative.” Nancy frowned slightly. “There won’t be much time once the distraction starts.” Steven nodded. “A few minutes at most.” Robin leaned back dramatically. “So if I trip over my own dress, we’re all doomed.” Nancy considered that. Then she said simply, “You’ll wear boots.” Robin blinked. “…What?” Nancy gestured toward her. “Under the dress.” Robin looked down like she was picturing it. “My wedding dress… with boots.” Steven grinned.
“I actually love that.” Robin snorted. “It’s incredibly rebellious.” Nancy nodded. “And practical.” Robin thought about it. “I could run in boots.” Steven shrugged. “Then that’s settled.” Robin pointed at him. “You’re enjoying this way too much.” Steven leaned back against the table. “I’m helping orchestrate a royal scandal. Of course I’m enjoying this.” Nancy ignored him and continued focusing on the plan. “When the ceremony begins,” she said, “Robin will be waiting in the preparation room beside the hall.” Robin nodded slowly. “That’s where they’ll keep me before I walk in.” Steven tapped the map again. “That’s where I cause the distraction.” Robin leaned forward. “By publicly refusing this wedding.” Steven smiled. “Yes, in the most dramatic way I can do it.” Robin shook her head in agreement. Nancy tilted her head slightly.
“That will create the chaos.” Steven nodded. “Oh, it absolutely will.” Robin laughed nervously.
“You’re just going to… announce that?” Steven shrugged. “In front of everyone.” Nancy could already picture it: nobles shouting, royal advisors panicking, the entire hall erupting into confusion. It would work. Steven continued. “Everyone will be staring at me.” Robin finished the thought. “And Nancy and I slip out.” Nancy nodded. “We go through the servant corridor behind the hall.” Steven pointed to the path on the map. “That leads straight to the supply gate.” Robin smiled slightly. “And the boat?” Steven smiled. “Already waiting at the river.” Nancy looked up at him. “You really planned this all out on your own?” Steven shrugged again. “I had motivation.”
Robin smiled softly. “Genevieve.” Steven’s expression softened for just a moment. “Yeah.” Silence settled briefly over the room. Then Robin sighed. “You realize this means I’m running through a forest in a wedding dress.” Steven grinned. “With boots.” Robin pointed at him. “If I fall, I’m blaming you.” Nancy added calmly, “You won’t fall.” Robin glanced at her. “You sound very confident.” Nancy’s voice softened slightly. “I’ll be right beside you.” Robin smiled. And suddenly the idea didn’t feel quite as terrifying. Steven folded the map again. “Well,” he said, “that’s the plan.” Robin crossed her arms. “This is either going to be legendary… or disastrous.” Steven nodded. “Probably both.” Nancy looked at them both. “In two days.” Robin nodded slowly. “In two days.” And for the first time since the engagement had been announced… The wedding day wasn’t something Robin feared anymore. It was their escape.
Hi everyone, I am posting this to talk about a fic idea that came to me last night, and I was wondering if anyone would read it!
Summary: After the final battle in Hawkins, Y/N is trying to move on from the loss of Steve Harrington, the boy who stayed behind in the Upside Down so everyone else could survive. But strange things begin happening. Reality starts shifting, and Y/N finds herself waking up in different versions of her life. No matter the world, no matter the life, one thing never changes, Y/N always finds Steve, and she always falls in love with him. But as the timelines begin collapsing, Y/N discovers the truth. The Upside Down fractured reality, and Steve became the fault line holding it together. Only one timeline can survive, and in the one where the world is saved, Steve Harrington never made it out alive. Now Y/N must make an impossible choice: save the world and lose him forever, or save the boy she loves and let every other reality disappear.
If you are interested in this story, please let me know! I will try to start writing it soon, or after my current fic is finished. If I should make a tag list and a little teaser for it, please, please let me know. This will be my first official x reader fic, not just a short little blurb!
PLEASE DO NOT USE THIS IDEA AND MAKE IT YOUR OWN STORY. THIS IS MY ORIGINAL IDEA. DO NOT STEAL.
Summary: adding onto the talk between Nancy and Steven, and finally the confession.
a/n I have written so much, I am very locked in and can not sleep
word count - 1.8k
Nancy didn’t answer. Steven glanced at her. “You ever thought about running away with her?” Nancy turned sharply. “That’s treason.” Stevenn grinned slightly. “Hypothetically.” Nancy shook her head. “That would destroy both kingdoms.” “Yeah,” Steven admitted. “Probably.” They stood in silence again. Then Steven quietly spoke, “You know what the funny part is?” Nancy looked at him. “This whole alliance is supposed to solve everyone’s problems,” he said. “But all it’s really doing is trapping four people who don’t want to be here.” Nancy frowned. “Four?” Steven counted on his fingers. “Me. Robin. You.” He paused. “And Genevieve.” Nancy felt the truth of that settle heavily in her chest. Steven pushed away from the railing. “Well,” he said lightly, “at least we’re all miserable together.” Nancy almost laughed. As he walked toward the door, he paused beside her. “One piece of advice, Captain.” Nancy looked at him. Steven’s voice was quieter now. “If you love her… You might want to tell her before someone else decides her future for you.” Then he left the balcony. Nancy stood there alone in the cold night air. And for the first time since this whole arrangement began, she realized something terrifying. The prince might not be her rival after all. He might be the only person in the castle who understood exactly how trapped they all were.
Nancy didn’t remember deciding to run. One moment, she was standing alone on the balcony, staring out into the dark courtyard and thinking about what Prince Steven had said. If you love her… You might want to tell her before someone else decides her future for you. The next moment, she was already moving. Her boots echoed sharply against the stone floors as she hurried through the castle corridors. Servants stepped aside quickly as Captain Nancy passed, her pace faster than anyone had ever seen from the usually composed knight. Her heart was pounding. Not from fear. From urgency. Because tomorrow, maybe even tonight, the entire kingdom would decide Robin’s life for her. And Nancy couldn’t let that happen without telling the truth. She reached the princess’s wing of the castle and pushed open the doors to the dressing chambers without knocking. Inside, the room was bright with candlelight. Bolts of white fabric were draped across tables. Silver pins and ribbons were scattered everywhere. And standing in the center of the room, surrounded by dressmakers, was Princess Robin. She was wearing the wedding dress. Nancy stopped so suddenly she nearly forgot how to breathe. The gown was made of pale silk that caught the candlelight like frost. The sleeves were long and delicate, the skirt falling in soft layers to the floor. Robin looked… breathtaking. And miserable. She was staring at herself in the tall mirror like someone examining a stranger. One of the dressmakers noticed Nancy first. “Captain Wheeler.” Robin turned. Their eyes met. For a second, neither of them spoke. Then Nancy cleared her throat. “Leave us,” she said. The dressmakers exchanged confused glances. “Captain, we’re in the middle of...” Nancy’s voice was firm. “Please.” Robin watched her carefully. Something in Nancy’s expression must have given away how serious this was. Robin nodded to the dressmakers. “It’s okay,” she said quietly. “Could you give us a few minutes?” Reluctantly, the women gathered their supplies and filed out of the room. The door closed behind them. Silence fell. Nancy was suddenly very aware of how hard her heart was beating.
Robin shifted awkwardly in the gown. “Well,” she said lightly, “this is terrifying.” Nancy blinked.
“What?” Robin gestured at herself. “You burst into my wedding fitting, looking like someone just declared war. It’s not exactly calming.” Nancy stepped forward. “You can’t marry him.” Robin froze. “…What?” Nancy’s voice came out breathless. “You can’t marry Steven.” Robin stared at her. “Wow. Okay. That’s a strong opening.” Nancy ran a hand through her hair. “I talked to him.”
Robin blinked again. “You what?” “On the balcony. Earlier tonight.” Robin frowned slightly. “Why?” Nancy stepped closer. “Because he knows.” Robin’s stomach dropped. “Knows what?”
Nancy met her eyes. “About us.” Robin’s face flushed instantly. “There is no ‘us.’” Nancy shook her head. “There could be.” Robin went very still. Nancy’s voice softened. “Robin… he’s in love with someone else.” Robin blinked. “What?” Nancy nodded. “A girl in his kingdom. Her name is Genevieve.” Robin stared at her. “He told you that?” “Yes.” Robin looked genuinely stunned.
“And his parents arranged this marriage to make him forget her.” Robin let out a disbelieving laugh. “You’re kidding.” “I’m not.” Robin paced slowly across the room, the long skirt of the dress whispering across the floor. “So the prince doesn’t want this marriage.” “No.” “And I don’t want this marriage.” Nancy shook her head. “You definitely don’t.” Robin turned back toward her.
“So what does that mean?” Nancy took a breath. It was now or never. Her voice dropped.
“It means we could leave.” Robin froze again. “Leave?” Nancy stepped closer. “Run away.” Robin stared at her like she’d just suggested they jump off the castle walls. “You’re serious.”
Nancy nodded. “We could ask Steven for help. He doesn’t want this any more than we do.”
Robin’s voice came out shaky. “Nancy… that’s insane.” Nancy swallowed. “I know.” Robin looked down at the wedding dress. Then back at Nancy. “You’re suggesting we abandon two kingdoms.” Nancy stepped even closer. “I’m suggesting we choose our own lives.” Robin searched her face. “But why?” she whispered. Nancy’s heart pounded. Because this was the moment she’d been running toward. Her voice was quiet. “Because I love you.” The words hung in the air between them. Robin stopped breathing. Nancy forced herself to keep going. “I’ve tried not to,” she admitted. “I told myself it didn’t matter. That my duty was to protect you, not…” Her voice cracked slightly. “But every time I imagine you leaving this castle with him…” She shook her head. “I can’t do it.” Robin’s eyes were wide. “Nancy…” Nancy’s voice softened. “I know this is dangerous. And reckless. And probably the worst idea I’ve ever had.” Robin’s hands trembled slightly. “But I had to tell you before it was too late.” The room was completely silent now. Robin slowly stepped closer. The silk of the wedding dress rustled with each movement. She stopped only a few inches away from Nancy. “You love me,” Robin whispered. Nancy nodded once. “Yes.” Robin searched her face like she was trying to memorize every detail. “And you want to run away with me.” “Yes.” Robin looked down briefly. At the dress. The silk sleeves. The future everyone expected her to accept. Then she looked back up at Nancy. Her voice was soft but certain. “Good.” Nancy blinked. “What?” Robin smiled slightly. “Because I was really hoping you’d say that.” Nancy’s breath caught. Robin reached out and took her hand. “And if we’re running away,” she added, glancing down at the gown, “I should probably change first.”
Princess Robin Buckley was still holding Nancy’s hand. The silk of the wedding dress rustled softly as she stepped closer, her eyes bright with something Nancy had never seen there before. Hope. Nancy blinked. Robin grinned. She turned toward the door like she might actually sprint straight out of the castle. Nancy quickly grabbed her wrist. “Robin, wait.” Robin stopped and looked back. “What?” Nancy shook her head, trying not to laugh. “We can’t just run.” Robin frowned. “…Why not?” Nancy gestured vaguely around the room. “Because you’re a princess.” Robin rolled her eyes. “You keep saying that like it’s helpful.” Nancy stepped closer again, her voice gentler now. “If we disappear tonight, the entire kingdom will start searching by morning.”
Robin crossed her arms, the silk sleeves bunching slightly. “Okay, but they’re already planning to marry me off tomorrow.” Nancy nodded. “I know.” Robin looked at her impatiently. “So running still seems like the better option.” Nancy took a breath. “We need a plan.” Robin sighed dramatically. “You and your plans.” “They’re useful.” Robin paced across the room, the long skirt trailing behind her. “What kind of plan?” Nancy lowered her voice slightly. “We talk to Prince Steven.” Robin stopped pacing. “Oh.” Nancy nodded. “He doesn’t want this marriage either.” Robin rubbed the back of her neck. “Yeah, the whole ‘Genevieve’ situation.” Nancy gave a small smile. “He loves her.” Robin looked thoughtful. “And his parents want him to forget about her.” “Exactly.” Robin slowly turned back toward Nancy. “So if this wedding doesn’t happen…” Nancy finished the thought. “He can go back to her.” Robin’s eyes widened slightly. “Oh.” Nancy nodded again. “He might actually want to help us.” Robin tilted her head. “You think the prince of Ravaryn will help a princess and her knight run away together?” Nancy shrugged slightly. “He told me something earlier.” Robin stepped closer again. “What?” Nancy hesitated before answering. “He said if I loved you, I should tell you before someone else decided your future.” Robin stared at her. “He said that?” “Yes.” Robin laughed softly. “Wow.” Nancy raised an eyebrow. “What?” Robin shook her head, smiling. “I kind of like him.” Nancy tried not to look too relieved. Robin glanced down at the wedding dress again. “You know this is completely ridiculous, right?” Nancy followed her gaze. The silk gown looked like something from a fairy tale. Just not the kind Robin wanted. “I know.” Robin sighed. “I spent an hour being stabbed with sewing pins for a dress I’m not even going to wear.” Nancy smiled faintly. “Tragic.” Robin grinned at her. “Extremely.” Then her expression softened slightly. “So we talk to Steven.” Nancy nodded. “Yes.” “And then what?” Nancy thought for a moment. “We figure out a way for the engagement to collapse without starting a war.” Robin groaned. “That sounds complicated.” “It is.” Robin studied her face. “But you already have ideas.” Nancy hesitated. “Maybe a few.” Robin smiled. “Of course you do.” She stepped closer again until they were only inches apart.
The candlelight flickered between them. Robin’s voice dropped slightly. “You know,” she said quietly, “a few minutes ago you were confessing your love and suggesting we run away together.” Nancy’s cheeks flushed slightly. “Yes.” “And now you’re talking about political strategy.”Nancy shrugged. “Both things can be important.” Robin laughed softly. “You’re unbelievable.” Nancy tilted her head. “Is that a compliment?” “Definitely.” For a moment they just stood there again. Robin still in the wedding dress. Nancy still trying to act like a responsible knight even after confessing something that could ruin both their lives. Finally, Robin squeezed Nancy’s hand gently. “Alright, Captain.” Nancy raised an eyebrow. “Captain?” Robin grinned. “You’re clearly in charge of the escape plan.” Nancy tried not to smile. “Temporarily.” Robin nodded toward the door. “Then let’s go talk to the prince.” Nancy hesitated. “Not tonight.” Robin groaned again. “Nancy.” “We need to be careful.” Robin leaned her head back dramatically. “Careful is so boring.” “Careful keeps us alive.” Robin sighed but nodded reluctantly. “Fine.” Nancy glanced toward the door. “We’ll find him tomorrow.” Robin looked down at the wedding dress one more time. Then she muttered, “Tomorrow I’m supposed to agree to marry him.” Nancy’s expression hardened slightly. “Tomorrow we change everything.” Robin looked back at her. And for the first time since the prince had arrived, she felt something stronger than fear.
Part 3, hooray, I had them both done, just had to do some final edits, but first I had to take my midterm, so now we can celebrate with ronance being canon in my world
Summary: The courting starts between Robin and Steven, but during this steven starts to notice the looks between Nancy and Robin and later admits something to Nancy...
word count - 1.6k (a little shorter, I apologize, Tumblr is glitching out)
In the days following Prince Steven’s arrival, the castle of Hawthorne turned into a stage.Every morning, there were new events arranged for the visiting prince and the princess, walks through the gardens, formal lunches, music performances, and hunting demonstrations. Each one was carefully designed so the court could observe their “blossoming romance.” To everyone watching, it looked almost convincing. Almost.
The first outing was a stroll through the winter gardens. Frost coated the rose bushes, and pale sunlight filtered through the glass canopy above the stone paths. A small crowd of nobles followed at a respectful distance. Princess Robin walked beside Prince Steven, her hands clasped behind her back. Behind them, just far enough away to remain unobtrusive, walked Captain Nancy. Her armor was quiet as she moved, but her eyes never left Robin. Steven noticed this almost immediately. “Okay,” he said quietly to Robin, “question.” Robin glanced at him. “That depends. Is it about politics? Because I’m bad at those.” “It’s about your knight.” Robin blinked. “What about her?” Steven tilted his head slightly toward Nancy behind them. “She looks like she wants to duel me.” Robin tried not to laugh. “That’s just her face.” Steven raised an eyebrow. “I’m serious.” Robin glanced over her shoulder. Nancy quickly looked away, pretending to inspect a nearby statue. Robin smiled faintly. “She’s just… protective.” Steven hummed thoughtfully. “Protective is one word for it.” Robin nudged him. “You’re imagining things.” “Am I?” He didn’t sound convinced. To keep up appearances, Steven lightly offered his arm. Robin hesitated for half a second before looping her arm through his. From across the garden path, Nancy saw the gesture. Her jaw tightened slightly. Steven felt the tension behind him immediately. He glanced back. Nancy’s expression was perfectly neutral. But her eyes flicked briefly toward Robin’s arm resting against his. Steven filed that away. Interesting.
The next afternoon, they were seated in the castle’s music room while a court musician played a soft melody on the harp. Robin sat beside Steven on a velvet bench, pretending to listen attentively. In reality, she was slowly losing the will to live. Steven leaned closer. “Are you dying inside, too?” he whispered. Robin whispered back, “I’ve been dying for the last hour.” Steven snorted. The nearby nobles smiled approvingly, assuming the laughter meant the couple was bonding. Across the room, Nancy stood near the doorway.
Robin looked up. Their eyes met. For just a second. Nancy softened slightly. Robin smiled. It was small. Private. A smile meant only for her. Steven saw it. He followed Robin’s gaze across the room. Nancy quickly straightened when she realized she’d been caught looking. Steven blinked slowly. “Oh,” he murmured under his breath. Robin turned back to him. “What?” Steven waved a hand. “Nothing.” But something had definitely clicked in his brain.
Two days later, Steven suggested archery practice in the castle training yard. It was the first event that actually excited Robin. “You shoot?” she asked, surprised. Steven shrugged. “Badly.” Robin grinned. “Perfect.” Targets were set up along the far wall of the training field. Robin took the first bow eagerly. “Watch and learn,” she told him. Her arrow flew across the yard and struck the outer ring of the target. Steven clapped politely. “Impressive.” “I haven’t practiced in years.” Steven stepped up next. His arrow missed the target entirely. Robin burst out laughing. “Okay, wow.” “I warned you.” Nearby guards chuckled. Nancy stood beside the weapons rack, arms crossed. Robin looked over at her. “Captain Wheeler!” Nancy looked up. Robin tossed her a bow. “Show him how it’s done.” Nancy hesitated. “I’m on duty.” “Your duty is protecting me,” Robin said sweetly. “And my pride is in danger.” Steven watched the exchange carefully. Nancy stepped forward reluctantly. She nocked an arrow. Pulled the string back smoothly. Released. The arrow struck the very center of the target. Robin cheered. “That’s my knight!” Nancy tried not to smile. Steven clapped slowly. “Okay, that was impressive.” Nancy nodded politely. Robin looked between them. “You two should compete.” Steven held up his hands. “I already know I’d lose.” Robin laughed again. Nancy looked at her. And the softness in her eyes returned. Steven saw it clearly this time. The way Robin’s entire expression changed when she looked at Nancy. And the way Nancy looked back, like Robin was the only person in the yard. Steven rubbed the back of his neck. “Well,” he muttered quietly to himself, “that explains a lot.”
The castle had grown quiet again. The celebrations for the evening had ended hours ago. Most of the nobles had retreated to their chambers, and the halls of Hawthorne were lit only by scattered torches flickering against the stone walls. Captain Nancy stood alone on the balcony outside the great hall. The cold night air helped clear her mind. Or at least, it was supposed to. Instead, all she could think about was the way Robin had looked at her earlier in the corridor. The question Robin had asked still echoed in her head. If I married him… would you be happy for me? Nancy tightened her grip on the stone railing. She hadn’t answered. Because the truth was too dangerous. Behind her, the balcony doors creaked open. Nancy straightened instantly.
When she turned, she found herself face-to-face with Prince Stevenn. He looked surprised to see her. “Oh,” he said. “Sorry. Didn’t realize this spot was taken.” Nancy nodded stiffly. “Your Highness.” Steven walked out onto the balcony anyway, rubbing the back of his neck like someone who had wandered into an awkward situation. They stood in silence for a moment.
Finally, Steven glanced sideways at her. “So,” he said casually, “you’re the terrifying knight everyone keeps talking about.” Nancy raised an eyebrow. “I’ve heard that description.” Steven leaned against the railing beside her. “Don’t worry. I mean it as a compliment.” Nancy didn’t respond. For a while, they just listened to the wind moving through the castle towers. Then Steven sighed. “You love her.” Nancy’s head snapped toward him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Steven gave her a tired look. “You really going to keep pretending?” Nancy’s voice hardened. “She’s the princess.” “Yeah,” Steven said. “And you look at her like she’s the sun.” Nancy didn’t answer. Steven tapped his fingers lightly against the railing. “For the record,” he added, “I don’t blame you.” Nancy frowned. “That’s an odd thing for a man engaged to her to say.” Steven laughed quietly. “Engaged is a generous term.” Nancy studied him carefully. “You don’t want this marriage.” Steven shrugged. “Does it look like I do?” Nancy hesitated. Earlier, she might have said yes. But now she wasn’t so sure. “You seem… agreeable.” “That’s because I’ve had years of practice pretending.” Nancy looked at him more closely. Steven stared out at the dark forest beyond the castle walls. His voice softened slightly. “My parents arranged this alliance months ago,” Nancy said nothing. Steven continued. “Ravaryn needs stronger ties with Hawthorne. Your kingdom needs support on the northern border. Everyone wins.” Nancy tilted her head. “Except you.” Steven smiled faintly. “Except me.” Nancy folded her arms. “If you don’t want the marriage, why agree to it?” Steven was quiet for a moment. Then he said something unexpected. “Because they think it’ll make me forget her.” Nancy blinked. “Forget who?” Steven looked down at the stone floor. “There’s someone back home.” Nancy waited. Steven let out a slow breath. “She’s not noble,” he said. “Not even close.” Nancy didn’t interrupt. Stevenn gave a soft laugh. “She works in a bookshop in the capital.” Nancy’s expression softened slightly. “A bookshop?” “Yeah,” Stevennn said. “Small place on a crooked street near the river.” He leaned his elbows on the railing. “I used to go there all the time when I wanted to escape the palace.” Nancy studied him quietly. Stevenn smiled faintly at the memory. “She’d always argue with me about the books I picked.” Nancy raised an eyebrow. “Argue?” “Oh yeah,” Steven said. “She told me my taste in stories was terrible.” Nancy almost smiled. “What’s her name?” Steven’s voice grew softer. “Genevieve.” The name hung gently in the cold air. Nancy watched his expression. It was the kind of look people only had when they talked about someone they loved. “You’re in love with her,” Nancy said quietly. Steven nodded once. “Helplessly.” Nancy looked back out over the courtyard. “And your parents disapprove.” Steven snorted. “That’s putting it mildly.” “Because she isn’t royal.” “Because she’s normal,” Steven said. Nancy glanced at him again. “And they think marrying the princess will fix that.” “Exactly.” Steven rubbed his hands together for warmth. “They think if I marry Robin, I’ll forget Genevieve.” Nancy’s voice was thoughtful. “Will you?” Steven laughed softly. “Not a chance.” Nancy believed him. The sincerity in his voice was impossible to fake. After a moment, she said, “Robin doesn’t want this marriage either.” Steven nodded. “I figured.” Nancy looked at him carefully. “You noticed.” “Captain,” Steven said, “you two practically glow when you look at each other.” Nancy stiffened. “That’s not.” Steven held up a hand. “Relax. I’m not judging.” Nancy looked away. Steven leaned back against the railing. “For what it’s worth,” he added quietly, “I think she feels the same way.” Nancy’s breath caught. “You don’t know that.” Steven shrugged. “I know what it looks like when someone’s trying not to stare at the person they love.”
Helloooo, welcome to part 2 of I don't know how many, yet I do hope you all are enjoying this !!
Summary: The first meeting of Princess Robin and Prince Steven, then Captain Nancy and Princess Robin speaking after the meeting is over
word count - 2.1k
The great hall of Hawthorne Castle had been transformed overnight. Golden banners hung between the tall stone columns. Hundreds of candles burned along the walls, their warm light reflecting off polished floors and jeweled goblets set neatly across the banquet tables. It was meant to look welcoming. Grand. Impressive. To Princess Robin Buckley, it felt like a very fancy execution. She stood beside the throne at the front of the hall, wearing a deep blue gown that someone had laced so tightly she suspected it might qualify as a medieval torture device. “Remind me again,” she muttered under her breath, “why I’m not allowed to flee through a window?” Beside the throne, her mother didn’t even glance at her. “Because the windows are three stories above the courtyard.” Robin sighed. Across the hall, nobles and visiting dignitaries whispered quietly as the Ravaryn delegation approached. At the edge of the room stood the royal guard. Among them was Nancy Wheeler. Nancy’s armor gleamed beneath the candlelight, her hands resting lightly on the hilt of her sword. She stood perfectly still. Alert. Professional. But her attention wasn’t on the hall. It was on Robin. The princess shifted her weight nervously, fingers twisting slightly in the fabric of her skirt. Nancy noticed everything. The way Robin kept glancing toward the door. The way her shoulders tensed whenever someone mentioned the prince’s name. Nancy told herself she was watching for threats. That was her job. But the tight feeling in her chest had nothing to do with security. A trumpet sounded at the far end of the hall.
The massive doors opened. “Presenting His Royal Highness,” a herald announced loudly, “Prince Steven of Ravaryn!” The hall erupted into polite applause. Through the doors walked a tall figure dressed in dark royal colors, a cloak draped loosely over one shoulder. Steven Harrington moved with the relaxed confidence of someone very used to being the center of attention. His hair was slightly windswept from travel, and his smile came easily as he acknowledged the nobles around him. Nancy watched him approach with careful attention. He didn’t look particularly dangerous. Just charming. Which, Nancy suspected, might actually be worse. Prince Steven reached the front of the hall and bowed respectfully before the queen.
“Your Majesty.” The queen inclined her head. “Prince Steven. Welcome to Hawthorne.” Then she gestured toward Robin. “And this is my daughter, Princess Robin.” Steven turned toward her. For a moment, he looked like someone had forgotten his next line in a play. Robin awkwardly waved. “Hi.” Steven blinked. Then a crooked grin spread across his face. “Well,” he said, straightening up, “you’re definitely not what I expected.” Robin raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”
“I was told to prepare for someone terrifying.” Nancy almost smiled. Robin crossed her arms slightly. “And instead you got…?” Steven looked her over thoughtfully. “Someone who looks like she’d rather be anywhere else.” Robin laughed. “That obvious?” “Extremely.” The nobles nearby exchanged confused glances. This was not how royal introductions usually went. Steven stepped closer and bowed slightly again. “Princess Robin,” he said smoothly, “it’s an honor to finally meet the woman I’m apparently supposed to marry.” Robin winced. “Yeah… about that.”
The queen cleared her throat loudly. Robin coughed. “Wonderful tradition. Very exciting.” Steven’s grin widened. Nancy watched the exchange from across the room. Something about it made her stomach twist. Steven was charming. Effortlessly so. He leaned casually against one of the throne steps. “You know,” he said, “I was expecting this to be a lot more awkward.” Robin tilted her head. “Why?” “Because arranged marriages usually involve a lot of staring at the floor and pretending we’re both thrilled.” Robin snorted. “Wow, you really came prepared.” Steven shrugged. “I practice honesty when possible.” Robin glanced sideways toward the guards.
Her eyes briefly met Nancy’s. Nancy looked away almost immediately. Steven noticed the movement. His gaze followed Robin’s. “Your knight?” he asked. Robin nodded. “Captain Wheeler.” Steven studied Nancy for a moment. “Intimidating.” Robin smiled slightly. “She is.”
Nancy felt heat creep up the back of her neck, but kept her expression neutral. Steven turned back to Robin. “So,” he said, lowering his voice slightly, “should we get the awkward flirting part out of the way now?” Robin blinked. “The what?” “You know.” Steven gestured vaguely. “Where I compliment your beauty, and you blush politely, and everyone thinks this is going wonderfully.”
Robin burst out laughing. Nancy’s jaw tightened. Steven continued, clearly enjoying himself. “Let’s see… um.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Your eyes are very… eye-shaped.” Robin stared at him. “That’s your line?” “I panicked.” Robin laughed harder. “You’re terrible at this.” “I know,” Steven said cheerfully. Nancy watched the interaction, her grip tightening slightly on the hilt of her sword. Robin looked relaxed. Happy, even. Laughing in a way Nancy hadn’t heard all morning. The sound twisted something unpleasant in her chest. Steven leaned closer to Robin.
“But in all seriousness,” he said softly, “you’re very beautiful.” Robin blinked. “Oh.” Nancy looked away immediately. Steven continued, though there was a faint awkwardness in his voice now.
“And charming. And uh, probably very good at royal things.” Robin laughed nervously. “I am deeply average at royal things.” “That’s okay,” Steven said quickly. “I’m terrible at them.” Robin studied him for a moment. “You don’t actually want to do this either, do you?” Steven paused.
Just for a second. Then he smiled again. “Well, duty calls.” But Robin noticed something in his eyes. Something tired. Like he was playing a role he’d already memorized. Nancy noticed it too.
And strangely, it didn’t make her feel better. Steven stepped back slightly. “Well, Princess,” he said, “shall we pretend to be delighted about this engagement together?” Robin sighed dramatically. “Only if you promise not to compliment my ‘eye-shaped eyes’ again.” “No promises.” They both laughed. Across the hall, Nancy’s chest felt tight. She hated the way Steven stood so close to Robin. Hated the easy way he made her laugh. Hated the thought that in a few days Robin would belong to him. Nancy forced her gaze back to the room, trying to focus on her duties. But when Robin laughed again, bright and effortless, Nancy’s jealousy burned sharper than she expected. And she realized something dangerous. Watching Robin fall in love with someone else might be the hardest battle she’d ever fought.
By the time the formal introductions ended, Princess Robin Buckley felt like her brain had turned to porridge. Hours of smiling politely. Hours of standing beside Prince Steven while nobles whispered and stared like they were watching the beginning of a grand love story. The moment she was finally allowed to leave the great hall, Robin escaped like someone fleeing a burning building. The heavy doors shut behind her with a deep echo. The hallway outside was blissfully quiet. Robin let out a dramatic groan and dropped her head back against the stone wall. “Okay,” she muttered to herself. “That might have been the longest two hours of my entire life.” A familiar voice answered from down the corridor. “You handled it well.” Robin straightened immediately. Leaning against one of the torchlit pillars was Captain Nancy Wheeler. Robin blinked. “Were you following me?” Nancy raised an eyebrow. “That’s literally my job.” Robin laughed softly and pushed away from the wall. “Well, congratulations. You’ve successfully protected me from polite conversation.” Nancy’s lips twitched slightly. Robin walked toward her. Now that the hall was quiet and empty, the tension she’d been holding all evening started to slip away. “You can relax,” Robin said. “The terrifying prince is gone.” Nancy studied her carefully. “He’s not terrifying.” Robin shrugged. “He’s… something.” Nancy tilted her head. “What does that mean?” Robin hesitated. Then she sighed and leaned against the pillar beside Nancy. “He’s actually kind of nice.” Nancy’s chest tightened before she could stop it. “Oh.” Robin noticed the reaction immediately. Her eyes narrowed slightly. “That sounded disappointed.” Nancy crossed her arms. “It’s good if he’s kind.” “I didn’t say that was a compliment.” Nancy looked at her.
Robin ran a hand through her hair. “He’s charming,” she admitted. “In that very practiced, royal way where you can tell he’s done this before.” Nancy didn’t answer. Robin glanced at her. “You don’t like him.” Nancy kept her voice neutral. “I don’t know him.” Robin hummed. “You were glaring at him earlier.” “I was observing him.” Robin smiled. “Right. Observing.” Nancy ignored that. “What do you think of him?” she asked instead. Robin looked down the hallway for a moment, thinking. Then she sighed. “I think he’s trying.” Nancy frowned slightly. “Trying?” “To make this less awkward,” Robin said. “Which is nice, I guess.” Nancy nodded slowly. Robin glanced sideways at her. “But it doesn’t change anything.” Nancy’s stomach twisted. “What do you mean?” Robin pushed away from the pillar and started pacing slowly down the corridor.“I still don’t want this marriage.” Nancy followed a step behind her. “You knew that before you met him.” “Yeah,” Robin said, turning around suddenly. “But I thought maybe..” She stopped. Nancy waited. “Maybe what?” she asked quietly. Robin rubbed the back of her neck. “I don’t know. Maybe if he was awful, it would make things easier.” Nancy’s brow furrowed. “Easier?” Robin laughed bitterly. “Yeah. Because then I could hate the whole thing.” Nancy watched her carefully. “But he’s not awful,” Robin continued. “He’s funny. And nice. And clearly just as stuck in this whole situation as I am.” Nancy looked away. “That sounds like a good match.” Robin froze. The words hung in the air between them. Slowly, she turned toward Nancy. “You don’t actually believe that.” Nancy’s voice was steady. “It would be a stable alliance.” Robin stared at her. “That’s not what I asked.” Nancy didn’t respond. Robin stepped closer. “What if I said yes tomorrow?” she asked softly. Nancy’s head snapped up. Robin held her gaze. “What if I agreed to the engagement?” she continued. “Married him. Moved to Ravaryn.” Nancy felt something sharp twist in her chest. Her voice came out quieter than she intended. “Then you’d be doing your duty.” Robin searched her face. “And you’d be okay with that?” Nancy forced herself not to hesitate. “My feelings don’t matter.” Robin looked hurt. “They matter to me.” Nancy didn’t answer. Robin’s voice softened. “Nancy.” Nancy met her eyes again. Robin took another step closer. “So tell me honestly,” she said quietly. “If I married him… would you be happy for me?” Nancy opened her mouth. But the words wouldn’t come. Because the truth was sitting in her chest like a stone. No. She wouldn’t be happy. She’d be miserable. Robin watched the silence stretch. And suddenly she understood something. Her voice dropped to a whisper. “You wouldn’t be.” Nancy inhaled sharply. Robin stepped even closer. Now they were standing so near that Nancy could see the tiny flecks of gold in Robin’s eyes. “You hate this marriage almost as much as I do,” Robin said softly. Nancy shook her head. “That’s not.” Robin reached out suddenly and caught Nancy’s hand. The contact shocked them both. Nancy looked down at their hands. “Robin..” Robin’s voice trembled slightly. “Tell me I’m wrong.” Nancy’s heart pounded. She should pull away. She should say something responsible. But instead, she just stood there. Robin’s fingers tightened slightly around hers. “You’re not wrong about him,” Nancy said quietly. Robin tilted her head. “What do you mean?” Nancy finally looked back at her. “He’s kind,” she admitted. “And he’s trying.” Robin waited. Nancy’s voice softened. “But he’s still not the right person for you.” Robin’s breath caught. “Why not?” Nancy hesitated. Then she said carefully.
“Because he doesn’t look at you the way someone who loves you should.” Robin blinked. “How would you know?” Nancy froze. Robin’s eyes were searching her face now. And suddenly the hallway felt very small. Nancy’s voice dropped to barely a whisper. “Because I know what that looks like.” Robin’s heart skipped. For a moment, neither of them moved. Then Robin asked. “And what does it look like?” Nancy’s breath caught. She couldn’t say it. Not out loud. Robin waited. But when Nancy didn’t answer, Robin slowly let go of her hand. The loss of warmth felt immediate. Robin stepped back slightly. Her voice was softer now. “Well,” she said, forcing a small smile, “at least one of us still believes in love.” Nancy watched her walk toward the end of the corridor. And for the first time since the prince had arrived, she wondered if protecting Robin might one day mean letting her go.
a/n I am back with the ronance. This is my first au, I do hope you all enjoy
In which Princess Robin is set to marry a prince and is given a personal guard to protect her until the wedding day. While time passes, waiting for the cursed day to come upon them, they grow closer
This is heavily inspired by the Laufey song I have been listening to while writing
THIS IS PART 1 OF I DON'T KNOW HOW MANY
word count - 2.5k
The kingdom of Hawthorne had not known peace in years. Not the loud kind of war, the kind with marching armies and burning fields, but the quieter, more dangerous kind. The kind fought with treaties and forced alliances and marriages that felt more like weapons than promises. That was how Princess Robin Buckley found herself standing in the royal gardens on a gray morning, listening to her mother explain her future like it was already decided. “You will marry Prince Steven of Ravaryn,” the queen said calmly, hands folded behind her back. “The alliance will secure the northern border.” Robin stared at the fountain in front of her. “You mean it will secure your war?” “Robin.” The queen’s voice sharpened slightly. “This is your duty.” Robin laughed under her breath. “My duty is to be traded like livestock?” “Your duty is to your kingdom.” Robin turned away, running a hand through her short hair. “I’m twenty,” she said. “You’ve spent my entire life reminding me that I’m the spare heir, and now suddenly I’m the solution to a political crisis.” “You are a princess,” the queen replied evenly. “You have always been a solution to something.” Robin felt the familiar burn of frustration rise in her chest. Before she could answer, the sound of armored footsteps echoed through the garden. Both women turned. A knight approached through the stone archway, armor catching the pale morning light. The royal crest was etched across the breastplate, polished to perfection. The knight stopped several paces away and bowed. “Your Majesty.” Robin’s attention drifted to the knight’s face and stopped.
Dark hair pulled back neatly. Sharp eyes that missed nothing. A posture so straight it looked painful. “Captain Wheeler,” the queen said. “You’re early.” “I prefer to be prepared.” Robin tilted her head. So this was the infamous Captain Wheeler. Nancy Wheeler had joined the royal guard at sixteen and had somehow climbed through the ranks faster than anyone in the kingdom’s history. People whispered about her skill with a blade and the way she never seemed to hesitate in battle. Robin had never spoken to her before. Nancy looked between them. “You asked to see me, Your Majesty?” “Yes.” The queen gestured toward Robin. “You will be assigned as Princess Buckley’s personal guard.” Robin blinked. “I will be what?” Nancy didn’t move, but Robin saw the flicker of surprise in her eyes. The queen continued as if nothing had happened. “The princess will soon be traveling to Ravaryn for her engagement announcement. Until the wedding, her safety will be your responsibility.” Robin scoffed. “Oh, fantastic. A babysitter.” Nancy didn’t react. The queen ignored the comment. “You will remain at her side at all times.”
Nancy bowed her head slightly. “Understood.” Robin crossed her arms. “Just to clarify,” she said loudly, “I didn’t ask for this.” Nancy finally looked at her. Her gaze was steady. Calm. “Your request was not required.” Robin huffed. Great. A knight with no sense of humor. The queen clapped her hands once. “Excellent. Captain Wheeler, you may begin immediately.” And with that, she walked away. Robin stared after her. “Well,” she muttered, “that was terrifyingly efficient.” Nancy remained where she stood. Robin turned back to her. The knight was watching her with the same careful attention one might give a dangerous animal. “Relax,” Robin said. “I’m not planning to stab anyone today.” Nancy raised an eyebrow. “Good.” Robin paced toward the fountain. “So let me guess. You’re going to follow me everywhere now.” “Yes.” “That sounds exhausting.” “It’s my duty.” Robin glanced over her shoulder. “Do you always talk like that?” Nancy frowned slightly. “Like what?” “Like a rulebook.” Nancy didn’t answer. Robin sighed dramatically. “This is going to be a long few months.” Nancy’s voice remained even. “Possibly.” Robin leaned against the fountain edge. “What if I refuse to go to Ravaryn?” Nancy’s expression didn’t change. “You will go.” “Or what?” Nancy met her eyes. “Or I will escort you there myself.”
Robin stared at her for a moment. Then she burst out laughing. “Oh, I like you,” she said. “You’re terrifying.” Nancy didn’t look amused. “I’m serious.” Robin waved a hand dismissively.
“I know, I know. Duty. Honor. Protect the princess at all costs.” Nancy didn’t correct her.
Robin studied her for a second longer. Then she said quietly, “Tell me something, Captain Wheeler.” Nancy waited. “Do you actually believe in all of that?” Nancy hesitated. Then she said carefully, “I believe in protecting people who can’t protect themselves.” Robin’s smile faded slightly. “That’s noble.” Nancy didn’t respond. The garden fell quiet for a moment. Robin suddenly felt strangely aware of the knight standing only a few feet away. The armor. The sword at her hip. The steady calm in her expression. Nancy Wheeler looked like someone carved from iron. Robin wondered what it would take to crack that composure. She grinned. “Well, Captain,” she said. “Let’s see how long it takes before you regret this assignment.” Nancy met her gaze without blinking. “I won’t.” Robin didn’t know why that answer made something in her chest feel warm.
By the time winter arrived, the entire castle had noticed something. The princess and her knight were rarely apart. Robin dragged Nancy everywhere. Libraries. Markets. The stables. The cliffs overlooking the sea. Nancy followed, patient and silent. At first. But over time, something changed. Robin learned Nancy had a dry sense of humor buried somewhere beneath the armor.
Nancy learned Robin was far smarter than people assumed. And slowly, dangerously, they began to trust each other. One evening, snow drifted quietly across the castle courtyard. Robin sat on the stone wall overlooking the gardens. Nancy stood nearby like always. Robin swung her legs idly. “Tell me something,” she said. Nancy sighed softly. “What?” Robin tilted her head.
“Do you ever wish you weren’t a knight?” Nancy blinked. The question caught her off guard. “No.” Robin studied her. “Never?” Nancy thought for a moment. Then she said quietly, “No.”
Robin nodded slowly. “I wish I weren’t a princess.” Nancy’s gaze softened. “That’s different.”
“How?” Nancy hesitated. “Knighthood was something I chose.” Robin looked down at the snow gathering on the ground. “I didn’t choose this.” Nancy didn’t answer. Robin’s voice dropped.
“I don’t want to marry him.” Nancy’s chest tightened. “That isn’t my decision.” Robin laughed bitterly. “It’s barely mine.” The wind stirred around them. Robin looked at Nancy again. And suddenly the world felt smaller. “Can I tell you something?” Robin asked. Nancy nodded. Robin’s voice was almost a whisper. “Sometimes I imagine running away.” Nancy’s heart skipped. “Running where?” “Anywhere.” Nancy should have said something sensible. Something responsible. Instead, she asked, “Would you go alone?” Robin’s eyes met hers. And something unspoken passed between them. “No.” Nancy looked away first. Because suddenly the idea of Robin leaving, of Robin belonging to someone else, felt unbearable.
Most of the castle had gone quiet for the night. But the princess had not. Robin stood on the balcony outside her chambers, arms resting on the stone railing as she stared out at the dark forest beyond the kingdom walls. Behind her, the door opened with a quiet creak. “Your Highness.” Robin didn’t turn around. “You know,” she said, “you’re the only person in the entire kingdom who still calls me that.” Nancy stepped onto the balcony, the metal of her armor muted beneath her cloak. “It’s proper.” Robin smiled faintly. “Proper is boring.” Nancy stopped a few steps away, taking her usual position like a statue posted at Robin’s side. For a while, neither of them spoke. Snowflakes drifted lazily through the torchlight. Finally, Robin sighed. “Everyone’s acting strange.” Nancy glanced at her. “The prince arrives soon.” Robin groaned and dropped her forehead against the railing. “Right. The prince.” Nancy’s jaw tightened slightly at the words.
“Prince Steven is the future king of Ravaryn.” Robin peeked at her. “You sound thrilled.” “It’s a strong alliance.” Robin turned fully now, leaning back against the railing. “You’ve never even met him.” “That doesn’t change the politics.” Robin studied Nancy’s face. The knight was doing that thing, standing perfectly still, expression carefully neutral. Robin had learned over the past few months that neutrality usually meant Nancy was thinking too hard about something. “Do you think I’ll like him?” Robin asked. Nancy hesitated. “I don’t know.” Robin tilted her head. “Do you think he’ll like me?” Nancy’s answer came quicker. “Yes.” Robin smiled a little. “That sounded almost annoyed.” “I’m not annoyed.” “Uh huh.” Nancy crossed her arms. “You asked a question.” Robin watched her for a moment.“You’re avoiding something.” Nancy’s eyes narrowed slightly. “I’m not.” “Yeah,” Robin said, pushing away from the railing and stepping closer. “You are.” Nancy didn’t move. Robin stopped only a foot away from her. Close enough to see the tiny scar along Nancy’s jaw from some old battle. Close enough to notice the way Nancy’s breathing had subtly changed. “Captain Wheeler,” Robin said softly. Nancy swallowed.
“Yes?” “Why do you look like someone just declared war?” Nancy let out a short breath. “I don’t.”
Robin raised an eyebrow. “You absolutely do.” Nancy turned slightly, looking out over the courtyard instead of at her. “Your engagement is tomorrow.” Robin groaned. “Don’t remind me.”
“It’s important.” “It’s miserable.” Nancy’s voice softened slightly. “It’s necessary.” Robin stepped even closer. “So you agree with it?” Nancy hesitated. “My opinion isn’t relevant.” Robin frowned.
“I think it is.” Nancy shook her head. “I’m your knight. My job is to protect you.” Robin’s voice dropped. “And that’s all?” Nancy finally looked back at her. For a second, the air between them changed. Something sharp and electric passed through the silence. Robin felt her pulse quicken. She didn’t know exactly when it had started happening, these moments where looking at Nancy felt different. Heavier. More dangerous. “You’re more than that,” Robin said softly.
Nancy blinked. “I’m not.” “You are to me.” Nancy’s chest tightened. “Robin..” Robin took another step forward. Now there was barely any space left between them. Nancy could feel the warmth of her through the winter air. “You’re my friend,” Robin said. Nancy nodded stiffly. “Yes.” Robin’s voice got quieter. “And the only person in this castle who treats me like a real human being.”
Nancy looked at her like she didn’t know how to respond to that. Robin laughed nervously.
“You also follow me around like a very intimidating shadow.” “That’s part of the job.” Robin smiled. “I know.” For a moment they just stood there. Snow was drifting around them. Torchlight flickering. Nancy became painfully aware of how close Robin was. The way a loose strand of hair had fallen across her forehead. The way her eyes looked darker in the night. Robin noticed Nancy staring. Her smile faded into something softer. “Can I ask you something?” Robin said quietly. Nancy nodded. “Do you trust me?” The question caught Nancy off guard. “Of course.”
Robin hesitated. Then she reached out. Slowly. Carefully. Her fingers brushed Nancy’s wrist.
Nancy froze. The contact was small. Barely anything. But it felt like lightning. Robin’s voice was barely a whisper. “Then tell me something honestly.” Nancy’s heartbeat pounded in her ears.
“What?” Robin searched her face. “Are you happy about the prince arriving soon?” Nancy’s breath caught. The honest answer sat on the tip of her tongue. No. Not even close. But knights didn’t say things like that. Knights didn’t let their feelings matter. Nancy forced her voice steady.
“If it protects the kingdom, then it’s the right choice.” Robin studied her. Something sad flickered in her expression. “I was hoping you’d say something else.” Nancy felt her chest tighten. Robin’s hand was still on her wrist. Nancy could feel the warmth of her fingers through the fabric of her sleeve. For a moment neither of them moved. The world felt impossibly still. Robin’s eyes drifted to Nancy’s lips without meaning to. Nancy noticed. And suddenly the air felt charged. Robin realized what she was doing and inhaled sharply. “Nancy…” Nancy didn’t step away.
Robin’s voice trembled slightly. “This is probably a terrible idea.” Nancy’s heart raced. “Yes.”
Robin didn’t move her hand. “Okay.” Neither of them moved. The space between them felt fragile. Like glass. Nancy’s voice was quiet. “Robin.” Robin looked up at her. Their faces were inches apart now. Nancy could feel Robin’s breath against her cheek. “Your Highness,” “Don’t,” Robin whispered. Nancy’s voice faltered. “Robin.” Robin’s hand tightened slightly on her wrist.
And before either of them could think better of it, they both leaned in. Not much. Just enough that their foreheads almost touched. Nancy’s breath caught. Robin’s heart was racing so loudly she was sure Nancy could hear it. For one suspended second, the entire world narrowed to the space between their mouths. Then a trumpet blast echoed across the courtyard. Both of them jumped apart instantly. Robin turned toward the castle gates in confusion. “What?” More horns sounded. Voices rose in the courtyard below. Nancy stepped toward the railing, scanning the gate. Torches moved through the darkness outside the walls. A large procession rode through the open gates. Banners snapped in the wind. Nancy’s stomach dropped. “The Ravaryn delegation,” she said quietly. Robin leaned beside her. “Oh.” At the front of the procession rode a tall figure in dark armor. Confident. Relaxed. Smiling as the castle guards welcomed him inside. Nancy watched him dismount and hand the reins of his horse to a servant. He looked exactly like the kind of man kingdoms liked to marry princesses to. Charming. Powerful.
Effortlessly at home in royal courts. Robin squinted. “That’s him?” Nancy nodded stiffly. “Yes.”
Prince Steven looked up toward the balcony. His eyes landed on Robin instantly. And he smiled.
Then he raised a hand in greeting. Robin waved awkwardly. “Wow,” she muttered. “He’s… very confident.” Nancy’s jaw tightened. “Princes tend to be.” Steven turned back to his entourage, laughing easily as someone said something to him. Robin watched for a moment. Then she glanced sideways at Nancy. Nancy was staring at the prince as she’d rather be anywhere else.
Robin smiled slightly. “You don’t like him.” Nancy didn’t answer. “You haven’t even met him,” Robin continued. Still silence. Robin nudged her arm lightly. “Nancy.” Nancy exhaled sharply. “My opinion doesn’t matter.” Robin tilted her head. “I think it does.” Nancy looked back out at the courtyard where the prince was now being welcomed by the royal guard. Her voice came out quieter than she intended. “I just hope he understands how lucky he is.” Robin blinked. “Lucky?” Nancy forced a tight smile. “To marry you.” Robin stared at her. Something about the way Nancy said it felt wrong. Like the words had edges. Robin opened her mouth to respond, but the prince suddenly turned back toward the balcony again. This time, he called up to her. “Princess Robin!”
His voice carried easily through the courtyard. Robin winced slightly. “Yes?” Steven grinned.
“I look forward to meeting you tomorrow!” Robin forced a polite smile. “Likewise!” Nancy didn’t say anything. She was still watching him. Her hands clenched slightly at her sides. Robin noticed. And something in her chest twisted. Because suddenly she realized something.
Nancy wasn’t just uneasy. She looked jealous. And that realization was far more dangerous than the almost-kiss had been
(soo, i have an idea for a fic / one shot abt steve harrington x reader where they were in a fwb situation until they break it off and reader moves on with life while steve is still stuck up on them. HEAVILY inspired by ‘undressed’ by sombr where there’s basically no other way around it cause steve just burns and yearns for reader and doesn’t want to lose her to someone else. ) this is inspired by @stxrgirly tysm for letting me write this !! i also apologize if anything is messed up or looks weird tumblr wont let me edit it without not letting me post it
word count 1.6k
It never started with fireworks. No dramatic confessions. No slow-motion glances across a crowded room. It started with exhaustion. With you sitting on the hood of Steve Harrington’s BMW after a long shift, your sneakers dangling off the bumper while he leaned against the driver’s side door, complaining about customers like he hadn’t once been the exact same kind of entitled. “You ever think,” you’d said, staring at the parking lot lights buzzing overhead, “that maybe we peaked in high school?” He’d scoffed. “Speak for yourself. I’m just getting started.”
But he didn’t sound convinced. You bumped your knee against his. And that was the first time it felt like something. The Rules. You made them because you thought they would protect you.
“Friends,” you said firmly, standing in his bedroom doorway like you were negotiating a treaty. “With benefits. That’s it.” He was sitting on the edge of his bed, trying very hard not to look like he wanted more than he was allowed to. “Okay.” “No jealousy.” “Sure.” “No expectations.” He hesitated for half a second too long. “…Yeah.” “And if it gets complicated, we stop.” That was the one that mattered. He nodded anyway. You both pretended that nod didn’t feel like signing something fragile.It started small. Your toothbrush in his cup. Your favorite cereal in his cabinet.
A blanket you insisted was “yours” even though he bought it. You fell asleep on his chest more nights than not. Sometimes nothing happened at all you just lay there, tracing lazy patterns over his ribs while he talked about nothing and everything. “Promise me something,” you’d said once, half asleep. “What?” “If this ever gets weird… you won’t just disappear.” His hand had stilled on your back. “I wouldn’t do that.” But he didn’t promise. There were moments that felt too close to real. Like the night the power went out during a storm. You lit candles in his room and sat cross-legged on the floor, telling stories like kids. You looked at him through flickering light and said quietly, “Sometimes I wish we’d met differently.” He smiled. “Differently how?” “Without the rules.” The air shifted. He looked away first. You started asking harder questions after that. “Do you ever think about us?” “What about us?” “Like… if this was something else.” He’d always deflect. “Why ruin a good thing?” And you’d always swallow your disappointment. Because you loved him. Even when you weren’t supposed to. The jealousy crept in quietly. You’d see girls flirting with him and pretend it didn’t sting. He’d see Matt laughing at something you said and feel something dark twist in his stomach. But you both clung to the agreement like it protected you. No feelings. No expectations. No heartbreak. It wasn’t just physical. That was the problem. If it had only been physical, you might’ve survived it. It was the way he knew how you took your coffee. The way he’d leave the porch light on if you called letting him know that you were coming over late. The way his hand automatically found your waist in public like it belonged there. It was domestic in small, dangerous ways. You fell asleep on his chest more nights than not. His fingers would lazily trace circles against your spine while some late-night rerun played in the background. Sometimes you’d wake up at 2 a.m. and he’d be watching you. “What?” you’d mumble. “Nothing.” “You’re staring.” He’d smile softly. “Go back to sleep.” You should’ve known then. But you let yourself pretend it wasn’t what it was. It didn’t end with a fight. That would’ve been easier. It ended with you sitting at the edge of his bed, hands clasped together like you were trying to hold yourself in. “I can’t keep doing this,” you said. He looked up from where he was tying his shoes. “Doing what?” “Pretending.” He stood slowly. “I thought we were fine.” “We’re not.” He ran a hand through his hair, that nervous habit he had when he felt cornered. “You agreed to this.” “I know.” “Then why are you acting like I tricked you?” You flinched. “That’s not what I’m saying.” “Then what are you saying?” “I’m saying I love you,” you whispered. Silence. The word hung between you like something breakable. He didn’t say it back. And that was your answer. “I would’ve chosen you,” you said softly. He didn’t move. So you did. You walked out. And he let you. The first week was unbearable. Your hands still reached for your phone at 1:37 a.m. You still turned toward the passenger seat like he might be there. But slowly, you stopped waiting. That’s when Matt showed up. He was kind in uncomplicated ways. Steady. Clear. He didn’t flinch when you asked hard questions. He didn’t dodge conversations about feelings. He chose you without hesitation. And that should have been enough. Steve told himself it didn’t matter. He told himself this was what you wanted.
But every time he saw you with Matt laughing, relaxed, not searching for something missing it felt like swallowing glass. He missed the way you’d curl into his side. Missed the quiet. Missed the way you said his name when you were half asleep. And the worst part? He finally understood. You hadn’t asked for too much. You’d just asked for him. And he’d been too scared to give it. It was cold. The kind of rain that soaked through everything in seconds. You were standing under the diner awning when he saw you. And something inside him snapped. “Y/N!”
You turned. He looked wrecked. “I can’t do this,” he said, walking straight into the downpour.
“Do what?” “Watch you love someone else.” “You don’t get to say that.” “I love you.” Your breath caught. “Don’t.” “I always have.” “Then why didn’t you fight for me?” “I was scared!” “And I wasn’t?” you shouted. Rain ran down your face like tears you didn’t have to admit to. “I stood in your room and told you I loved you, and you said nothing!” “I didn’t know how to be what you needed!” “So you chose to be nothing instead?!” That hit. “You don’t get to wake up now,” you said, voice breaking, “just because someone else finally treated me like I mattered.” “I matter,” he insisted desperately. “Not when it counts!” Headlights turned the corner. Matt. “I needed you when it was quiet,” you whispered. “Not now.” “I’ll fight for you.” “You should have done that then!” “I wake up reaching for you!” “And I stopped,” you said. “That’s the difference.” The rain was relentless. “I still love you,” he said. You closed your eyes. “I know.” And that was worse than if you didn’t. You got in Matt’s car. And this time Steve didn’t follow. The car ride is quiet.
Matt’s hands grip the steering wheel. “You okay?” he asks. “Yeah.” You’re not. All you hear is Steve’s voice in the rain. I love you. I’ve always loved you. You thought you were over him.
You thought you’d survived it. But your heart still feels like it’s standing in the street, soaked and shaking. At your door, you stop. “I need to be honest,” you say. Matt exhales sharply. “That’s never good.” “I can’t do this,” you said at your apartment door. Matt’s shoulders went rigid. Silence. “You talked to him tonight.” You don’t answer. His jaw tightens. “Of course you did.”
“I tried to move on.” “You didn’t try hard enough!” “You think this is easy?” you snap. “He only wants you because I have you now,” Matt says bitterly. “That’s not true.” “Where was he when you were crying over him?” You flinch. “He didn’t fight for you until I showed up,” Matt continues. “And now you’re just proving he can do whatever he wants and you’ll still go back.” “That’s not what this is.” “Then what is it?” You swallow. “It’s unfinished.” Silence. “You’re choosing him,” Matt says flatly. You nod. “I’m sorry.” “You deserve better.”You nodded. “But I don’t want better.”
Silence. “You deserve him,” Matt muttered bitterly. And you hated that he might be right. You pack your things quickly. Your hands shake as you start the car. What if he runs again? What if you’re about to break your own heart twice? But what if he doesn’t? What if this is the first time he’s actually ready? The rain softens to a drizzle. You drive. Steve is sitting on his bedroom floor when you knock. He hasn’t changed. He looks hollow. He opens the door. Freezes. “Y/N?” “I ended it,” you say. “With Matt?” “Yes.” He looks stunned. “You didn’t have to..” “I didn’t do it for you. I did it because I was lying to him.” Silence. “You said you love me,” you continue. “And I believe you. But I need to know something.” “Anything.” “Are you going to run again?” His throat tightens. “No.” “That’s not enough. I need you to promise you’ll try. When it’s messy. When it’s scary. You don’t shut down. You don’t choose fear.” He steps closer. “I was so scared of losing you that I lost you anyway,” he says quietly. “I don’t want to be that guy anymore.” “You hurt me.”“I know.” “You made me feel like loving you was embarrassing.” “It wasn’t,” he says immediately. “It was the best thing that ever happened to me.” Tears spill down your cheeks. “If we do this,” you say, “it’s real. No rules.” “No rules,” he agrees. “You break my heart again and I won’t come back.” “I won’t,” he whispers. “I can’t survive losing you twice.” You search his face. You don’t see hesitation. Just fear. And love. You step forward. This time, it isn’t reckless. It isn’t temporary. It isn’t hiding. Outside, the rain finally stops. And this time you both choose to stay.
This does not really follow the storyline from Fargo. He deserves happiness, and I make it
The first time Gator Tillman realized he was in love with her, he was sixteen and bleeding.
Not bad, just a split lip from a fight outside the VFW hall in Stark County. The neon beer sign in the window buzzed like it was laughing at him. Gravel bit into his palms where he’d caught himself. Someone inside was still shouting. A truck engine revved. Boys who didn’t matter slapped each other on the back like they’d won something important. He tasted iron and dust and pride. She found him sitting on the curb, elbows on his knees, breathing hard like the fight had taken more out of him than he wanted anyone to know. “You look stupid,” she said. She wasn’t yelling. She never yelled. She just stood there with her hands on her hips, braid slung over one shoulder, eyes sharp and unimpressed. Gator tilted his head back to squint at her through one swelling eye. “You came to check on me.” “I came because you’re embarrassing,” she shot back. “My mom saw you swinging like a windmill, and now she thinks I hang around criminals.” He grinned, even though it hurt. “You do.” She rolled her eyes, but she crouched down anyway. The streetlight above them flickered, washing her in pale gold. She pulled a clean handkerchief from her jacket pocket, always prepared, always steady, and pressed it gently to his lip. “Hold still,” she murmured. He did. That was the thing about her. Everyone else in his life was noise. Demands. Orders. Expectations that felt like hands around his collar. She was quiet. Not weak, never that. Just calm. Like a still lake in the middle of a storm. “You’re going to get yourself arrested before senior year,” she muttered, dabbing carefully. “And then what? You think that’s impressive?” He shrugged. “They started it.” “You finished it.” He watched the crease form between her eyebrows when she was concentrating. The way she bit the inside of her cheek when she was worried. He fell in love with her right there, on a cracked North Dakota curb, while she cleaned blood off his face and pretended she wasn’t scared for him. He didn’t tell her. He never told her.
Her name was Y/n Jensen.
Three houses down. Same gravel road. Same long winters. Same sky that felt too big for both of them. He knew the sound of her screen door better than he knew the sound of his own heartbeat. Knew when it slammed because she was late, and when it shut softly because she didn’t want to wake her parents. Knew the rhythm of her footsteps on her porch. Knew the way she tucked her hair behind her ear when she was thinking, and the way she crossed her arms when she was trying not to say something sharp. They did everything together because there was no one else who made sense. Fishing by the river where the cattails grew thick, and the water moved slow enough to reflect the sky like glass. She never baited her own hook, but she’d argue about politics and books and whether small towns were cages or anchors. Skipping school once to drive past the county line, the radio crackling between stations, wheat fields blurring gold and endless. “You’re gonna get us expelled,” she said, laughing as he sped down an empty road. “Worth it,” he replied. “For what?” “For this.” He didn’t mean the road. He meant her laughing, hair whipping in the wind, sunlight catching in her eyes like she belonged somewhere bigger than here. At night, they’d lie in the bed of his truck, shoulders brushing, the metal still warm from the day. “You ever think about leaving?” she asked once, staring up at the sky like it might answer her. “Leaving where?” he asked. “Here. All of it. Just… gone.” He shrugged. “This is home.” She turned her head toward him slowly. “That’s not an answer.”
He didn’t know how to explain it then—that home didn’t always mean comfort. Sometimes it meant obligation. Roots that grew around your ankles and refused to let go. Sometimes it meant carrying a name that felt heavier every year. “Where would you go?” he asked instead. “Somewhere warm,” she said. “Somewhere the air doesn’t hurt your face half the year. Maybe Colorado. Or Oregon. Somewhere with mountains.” He snorted softly. “You’d miss the flat.” “I wouldn’t,” she said, smiling gently. “But I’d miss you.” The words hung between them, fragile as frost. He could’ve said it then.
I’d miss you too.
I don’t want you to go.
I love you.
Instead, he bumped his shoulder against hers and said, “You’re stuck with me, Jensen.” She smiled. But her eyes looked like she was waiting.
Senior year came too fast. He started fights he didn’t need to. Took risks he didn’t have to. Acted like the world owed him something he couldn’t name. She studied. Applied. Planned.
When the acceptance letter came from the University of Minnesota, she ran down the gravel road to his house barefoot. “I got in,” she said, breathless, holding the envelope like it might disappear. He felt something twist in his chest, sharp and unexpected. “That’s… that’s good,” he said. “Good?” She laughed, incredulous. “It’s huge.” “Yeah.” He forced a grin. “You’re gonna be a big city girl now.” “Minneapolis isn’t New York,” she said. “Still bigger than here.” Her smile faded slightly. “I don’t have to go.” He blinked. “What?” “I mean, I do. But I don’t have to, if ” “If what?” She searched his face like she was looking for a crack in it. “If there’s something here worth staying for.” The wind picked up, rattling the leaves. Somewhere behind him, he could hear his father’s voice inside the house. Heavy. Demanding. The weight of legacy pressing in. He looked at her and saw possibility. And he looked at himself and saw a trap. “You should go,” he said finally. “You always wanted more than this.” Her face closed off just a little. “Yeah,” she said quietly. “I guess I did.” They almost kissed that night. The air between them felt electric, dangerous. Her hand brushed his. He could feel the warmth of her through the thin fabric. “Gator,” she started. Headlights cut across them from down the road. The moment shattered.
He stepped back first. “Don’t miss your chance,” he said, trying to sound casual. “Go be something.” She nodded slowly. “Yeah,” she whispered. “You too.” She left in August. He stood in the driveway long after her parents’ car disappeared down the road. He didn’t follow.
They tried at first. Late-night calls where she described the city lights and the way snow looked different on concrete. Texts about professors who challenged her. Friends who made her feel brave. He told her about nothing. Work. Weather. The same bar. The same fields. “Are you okay?” she’d ask sometimes. “Yeah.” “You don’t sound okay.” “I’m fine.” He never told her about the fights that got worse. The expectations that got tighter. The way he felt like he was shrinking into something harder and meaner just to survive. One night, sirens wailed in the distance after a scuffle outside a bar. He stared at her name on his phone. He didn’t call. He didn’t want her to hear what he was becoming. So he let the silence grow.
Three years later, she came back for Thanksgiving. He saw her in the cereal aisle. She looked polished. Confident. Like the world had expanded instead of narrowed. “Gator,” she said. “Y/n.”
He noticed the way she carried herself now. Like she knew who she was. They talked in the parking lot, leaning against their cars like they used to. “I missed you,” she admitted. His throat tightened. “Yeah?” “Yeah.” He stepped closer without meaning to. She didn’t move away. “Y/n,” he started. Her phone rang. The smile she gave when she answered it was soft. Intimate. “I miss you too,” she said into the phone. The words landed like a punch. “Your boyfriend,” he said after she hung up. She nodded. “His name’s Aaron.” Of course it was. “You could’ve called,” she said softly. “You just… stopped.” “I was busy.” “That’s not an answer.” He didn’t have one. She drove away again. And he told himself it was too late.
Years passed. Then the county fair. Summer heat. The smell of fried dough and livestock. Kids running past with cotton candy. Music playing too loud from speakers that crackled. He saw her before she saw him. She was laughing beside a tall, clean-cut man with an easy smile. A ring glinted on her finger when she gestured. His stomach dropped. She turned and froze. “Gator,” she breathed. He nodded toward the man. “Aaron?” Her smile was tight. “Yeah. Aaron, this is Gator. We grew up together.” Aaron’s handshake was firm. Friendly. Unthreatening. “Heard a lot about you,” Aaron said. “Hope it was good,” Gator replied evenly. “All good,” Aaron laughed. Y/n’s eyes kept flicking to Gator, like she was checking if he was still there. Later, when Aaron went for funnel cake, she found Gator by the livestock pens. The smell of hay and dust thick in the air. Cows shifted lazily behind the fence. “You could’ve said hi properly,” she said. “I did.” “You were distant.” “You’re engaged.” She stilled. “How did you ?” “Small town.” She looked down at her ring. Sunlight caught on the diamond. “I was going to tell you.” “When?” “I don’t know.” The ferris wheel creaked overhead. A child laughed somewhere behind them. “Are you happy?” he asked. She hesitated. It was subtle. A breath too long. “Yes,” she said finally. He nodded once. “That’s good.” She stepped closer, lowering her voice. “I thought about you when he proposed.” His jaw tightened. “Don’t.” “It’s the truth.” “You’re getting married.” “I know.” “Then don’t tell me that.” Her eyes shone, but she didn’t look away. “We almost,” she started. “Yeah,” he said quietly. “We did.” “But we didn’t.” The silence between them felt louder than the music.
“Why didn’t you ever say it?” she asked. He looked at her, really looked at her.
Because he was scared.
Because he thought he’d ruin her.
Because he didn’t think he deserved her.
“Timing,” he said instead. “Bad timing.” She gave a small, sad smile. “Story of us.” Aaron’s voice called her name from across the fairgrounds. She stepped back. “Congratulations,” Gator said, forcing the word past the tightness in his throat. She watched him walk away through the crowd past the bright lights, laughter, and noise. And for the first time since she’d said yes to someone else. She wondered if she’d said it to the wrong person. The night before the wedding, the town felt too small. The church hall lights were still on, glowing soft and golden against the North Dakota dark. Inside, folding chairs were stacked, white ribbons tied neat and tight. Everything was ready. Everything except her. Y/n Jensen stood outside in her rehearsal dress, the hem brushing gravel, her hands trembling at her sides. Gator Tillman leaned against his truck like he always did when something felt too big, arms crossed, jaw tight, pretending he wasn’t unraveling. “You shouldn’t be here,” he said quietly. “Neither should you.” The wind cut between them, cool and restless. Somewhere down the road, a screen door slammed. She stepped closer. “I can’t do it,” she said. His head lifted slightly. “You’re nervous.” “No.” She shook her head. “Not nervous. Wrong.” The word hit him square in the chest. “Y/n,” he warned.
“I tried,” she whispered. “I tried to build a life that made sense. A good man. A steady future. Something safe.” “And that’s bad?” His voice was rough. “It’s not you.” Silence fell like a held breath. He looked away first. “Don’t say things you don’t mean.” “I’ve never meant anything more.” She closed the distance between them, stopping just inches away. Close enough that he could see the shine in her eyes. Close enough that he could feel the tremble in her breath.
“When I walk down that aisle tomorrow,” she said, “I’m going to be thinking about the boy who sat in the back of my truck and promised I was stuck with him forever.” He swallowed hard.
“You deserve someone better than me.”“That’s not your choice to make.” His hands clenched at his sides. “You don’t know what you’re asking.” “Yes, I do.” Her voice didn’t shake now. “I’m asking you to stop pretending you don’t love me.” He stared at her. The church lights hummed behind them. A moth fluttered against the glass. “Say it,” she said. He had said it once already. Hours earlier. Soft and broken. Now it felt like stepping off a cliff. “I love you,” he said. Not quiet. Not hesitant. Solid. Her breath left her in a rush. “Then don’t let me marry him.” The world narrowed to just her face. “If you walk away from that tomorrow,” he said slowly, “there’s no going back.” “I know.” “People will talk.” “They already do.” “You’ll hurt him.” Her eyes filled again. “I know.” He stepped closer, voice dropping. “And if we run?” Her lips parted slightly.
“We don’t look back.” For a second, neither of them moved. Then she did something she’d never done before. She grabbed his hand. “Okay,” she whispered. They didn’t tell anyone.
Not her parents. Not Aaron. Not the friends who were already in town for the ceremony.
At dawn, before the sun fully rose, Y/n slipped out of her house with a duffel bag and her wedding dress still hanging in the closet. Gator was waiting at the end of the gravel road.
The sky was pink and endless. She climbed into the passenger seat. He didn’t ask if she was sure. She didn’t hesitate. He put the truck in drive. And they left. They crossed the state line before either of them spoke. North Dakota flattened behind them, fields stretching quiet and indifferent. Y/n stared out the window, watching the landscape change inch by inch. “Are you scared?” he asked finally. “Yes,” she said. He nodded. “Me too.” She turned toward him, something wild and alive in her eyes. “But I’ve never felt more right.” He reached across the seat and laced his fingers through hers. For the first time in years, neither of them pulled away.
They ended up in Montana. Not planned. Just kept driving until the air felt different. Mountains rose in the distance, blue and massive against the sky. “You always wanted mountains,” he said. She smiled softly. “Guess I got them.” They rented a small cabin outside a town barely bigger than the one they left. It had creaky floors and a porch that overlooked a river that ran clear and cold. It wasn’t glamorous. It wasn’t safe. But it was theirs. The first night, they sat on the porch wrapped in one blanket, listening to the rush of water. “We’re going to have to call them,” she said eventually. “I know.” “They’re going to hate me.” “Maybe.” She rested her head on his shoulder. “Do you regret it?” He didn’t answer right away. “No,” he said finally. “Do you?”
She looked up at him. “Not for a second.” He kissed her then. Not rushed. Not desperate. Slow. Like something they’d been owed for years. The fallout came quick. Voicemails. Angry ones. Confused ones. Hurt ones. Aaron’s voice cracked when he left a message asking if she was safe. Her mother cried. The town speculated. They didn’t go back. They found work instead. Gator took a job at a mechanic shop in town. Honest work. Long hours. Grease under his nails instead of blood. Y/n found a position at a small marketing firm two towns over. The pay wasn’t what it had been in Minneapolis. It didn’t matter. They built something from scratch. It wasn’t always easy. There were nights when guilt crept in. When she’d sit at the kitchen table, staring at her phone. “He didn’t deserve that,” she whispered once. “No,” Gator admitted. “But I would’ve deserved worse if I married him.” He sat across from her, reaching for her hand. “I won’t waste what you gave up,” he said. “You didn’t make me give anything up.” He squeezed her fingers. “Still.” They fought sometimes. About money. About the way he shut down when things got hard. About the way she overthought everything. One night, months after they ran, she stood in the doorway of their bedroom, arms crossed. “You still think you’re not good enough for me,” she said. He didn’t deny it. “I think you gave up a life that made sense.” She walked to him, cupped his face in her hands. “I chose you,” she said firmly. “Stop acting as if you stole me.” He searched her face for doubt. There wasn’t any. “You’re my life that makes sense,” she added softly. That was the first night he let himself believe it.
author's note: I apologize already for writing this. I am not sorry at the same time. also first time putting a song for a story i recommd listening to it as you read
Steve Harrington x reader
where Steve randomly starts receiving letters from his future self, full of warnings about what will happen...
warnings- death, grief, angst, hurt, no comfort
The first letter arrives on a Tuesday that feels like every other Tuesday.
Steve is half-asleep, barefoot in his kitchen, flipping through mail he doesn’t care about.
Bills. Coupons. Something addressed to “Current Resident.”
And then an envelope.Thicker than the rest.
His name is written across the front in handwriting that makes his heart stutter.
Not similar.
Not close.
His.
The sharp S. The impatient slant of his H. The way the ink presses too hard on downstrokes.
His breath goes shallow.
He opens it.
One page.
Three lines.
Don’t fall in love with her.
I’m serious.
-Steve
The room feels smaller. He laughs under his breath, but it doesn’t sound like him.
“Her who?” he asks the empty kitchen. There’s no answer. He doesn’t throw it away.
He folds it carefully and tucks it into the junk drawer. He tells himself that means nothing.
It means everything.
He meets y/n ten days later.
Family Video is quiet. Robin is reorganizing tapes in a way that defies the laws of logic, and Steve is leaning against the counter, pretending to read the back of a VHS case. The bell jingles. She walks in like she’s thinking about something else entirely. Long, thick hair loosely tied back. Oversized jacket slipping off one shoulder. She doesn’t glance at the romantic comedies. Doesn’t hesitate at the action shelf. She goes straight to foreign films.
Steve feels it. That shift. That small, irreversible click in his chest.
“Oh no,” he murmurs.
Robin appears beside him. “What now?”
“I think I just found ‘her.’”
Robin frowns. “Her who?”
He doesn’t answer. Because the word feels heavy now. Her.
The first time she talks to him, she doesn’t flirt. She critiques. “You don’t actually like half these movies, do you?” she asks, holding up a dramatic romance. “Excuse me? I have excellent taste.” “You have predictable taste.” He smirks. “Predictable works.” She studies him for a second. “You don’t, though.” And something in him stills. Because she’s right. She sees through him immediately. He should walk away. He doesn’t.
The second letter comes after their third date.
They’ve started falling into an easy rhythm late-night diner runs, arguing over films, her stealing his fries like it’s tradition. They sit in his car outside her house, engine off, music low. “Do you ever think about leaving Hawkins?” she asks. “All the time.” “Where would you go?” He shrugs. “Somewhere quiet. Somewhere… steady.” She smiles softly. “I want a little house someday. With creaky floors and too many books. Maybe a dog.” “Only one?” he teases. “At least two.”
He looks at her in the dim light. And something inside him settles. He wants that. He wants creaky floors. He wants dogs. He wants her laughing in a kitchen that smells like coffee. He kisses her that night like he’s already picturing forever. When he gets home, the envelope is waiting on his kitchen table.
You’re starting to picture it.
The house. The future.
Stop.
The more you build, the more it will hurt when it falls.
-Steve
His hands tremble. He presses his forehead against the counter. “What falls?” he whispers.
No answer. He tries to slow it down after that. But love doesn’t slow down because you ask it to.
It builds in small, devastating ways. The first time she falls asleep on his chest. The way she absentmindedly traces circles on his wrist. The way she says, “Come here,” when he’s spiraling.
One night, they lie on the hood of his car at the quarry, staring at the stars. “Do you think we’ll make it?” she asks quietly. “Make what?” “This. Long-term.” He swallows. He thinks about letters stacked in his closet. About warnings, he hasn’t told her. “I want to,” he says honestly.
She turns her head toward him. “So do I.” He laces their fingers together. And chooses her again.
The third letter is longer. The paper feels older. Creased like it’s been folded too many times.
You’re going to start believing you can outrun this.
You can’t.
It’s not dramatic.
It’s not some heroic ending.
It’s a normal day.
A green light.
A moment that splits in two.
-Steve
A green light. His stomach drops. He reads it again. And again. He shoves it into the shoebox with the others. He tells himself that knowing doesn’t mean it has to happen. He tells himself he can change it.
They say “I love you” in the most ordinary way possible. She’s sitting cross-legged on his bed, flipping through a book, hair falling into her face. He’s watching her instead of the TV.
She looks up. “What?” “Nothing.” She studies him. Then, softly, “I love you.” The words hang between them. Fragile. Unavoidable. Unforgiving. The final nail in the coffin. His chest aches.
He thinks about walking away. About protecting her. About protecting himself. He doesn’t.
“I love you too,” he says. And it feels like jumping.
They start planning in quiet ways. Not grand gestures.Little things. She drags him to an open house just to “look.”“It’s not terrible,” she says, standing in a sunlit kitchen.“It smells like old carpet.”“It smells like potential.”She spins slowly in the living room.“You could put a couch there. And a bookshelf here. And a record player.”“You’ve thought about this.”She shrugs. “Maybe.”He imagines her here. Laughing in this kitchen. Dancing barefoot on worn wooden floors.“Two dogs,” he says suddenly. She grins. “At least.”He kisses her in an empty living room that isn’t theirs. And for a second, he forgets the letters exist.
Another envelope appears a week later.
This one is stained, like it’s been gripped too tightly.
You’re planning paint colors now.
You’re naming dogs.
I remember this part.
It’s the happiest we ever were.
I tried to hate myself for not listening.
But loving her was the best thing we ever did.
I just don’t know how to survive losing her twice.
-Steve
He sinks to the floor. Losing her twice. The words hollow him out.
The day it happens is painfully beautiful. Blue sky. Warm air. Windows down. She’s barefoot in the passenger seat, feet on the dashboard. “You’re going to scuff it.” “It’s already scuffed.” She laughs and reaches for his hand. “Promise me something,” she says suddenly. “What?” “If we ever get that house… we paint the kitchen yellow. ”He smiles. “Deal.” The light turns green.
A horn. A blur from the left. Time fractures. Metal screams. Glass shatters. Her hand tightens in his.
Then
Nothing. When he wakes, everything is wrong. White noise in his ears. The world tilted. He turns.“y/n?” She’s slumped in her seat. Blood at her temple. Her chest too still. “Hey,” he breathes. “Hey, stay with me.” Her eyes flutter. For half a second, she looks at him.
Confused. Dazed. “Steve?” she whispers. “I’m here,” he says desperately. “I’m right here.”
Her fingers twitch in his. Her lips part like she’s trying to say more. He leans closer. “I love you,” he says. It spills out of him. Her eyes soften. And then
They don’t move again.
At the hospital, the fluorescent lights hum. Robin’s crying. Dustin won’t look at him. The doctor’s mouth moves. “I’m sorry.” He doesn’t remember sitting down. He doesn’t remember breathing. He just remembers the silence. They let him see her. She looks small. Peaceful in a way that feels cruel. He takes her hand. It’s cold. “You said yellow,” he whispers. “We didn’t even pick the shade.” His chest feels like it’s collapsing inward.
Weeks later, the final letter arrives.
The paper is thin. The handwriting is shaky.
This is the part where you think I was right.
That if you had walked away, she’d still be alive.
You’ll replay the green light.
You’ll replay her laugh.
You’ll replay the way she said your name.
But listen to me
If you had left her before it started, you would still be grieving.
You would be grieving a future that never existed.
And that ache would never end.
Loving her didn’t kill her.
It just made losing her unbearable.
I would choose her again.
Every time.
-Steve
Steve folds the letter slowly. He sits on the floor of his apartment surrounded by memories.
Her jacket over the chair. A book she left on his nightstand. A photo of them laughing in the sunlight. His chest aches in a way that feels physical. Like something is pressing down on his ribs. He thinks about that first envelope. About the warning. About the version of himself who tried so hard to protect him. And he understands now. The letters weren’t trying to stop him from loving her. They were trying to prepare him for surviving it. He presses his face into her jacket and sobs until he can’t breathe. Because the worst part isn’t just that she’s gone. It’s that she was here. She was real. She was warm and laughing and planning yellow kitchens. And he would still choose her.
Even knowing exactly how it ends.
Even knowing it will break him open every single day for the rest of his life.
The sky is gray on the morning of the funeral. Not storming. Not dramatic. Just flat and colorless, like the world couldn’t decide what mood to wear. Steve thinks that’s worse.
Rain would’ve made sense. Rain would’ve felt earned. Instead, it’s quiet. Too quiet. A type of quiet steve hasnt felt or heard since before meeting her.
The church is small. White walls. Wooden pews. The faint smell of old hymnals and lilies. Lilies everywhere. He hates lilies now. He stands near the front, hands in the pockets of a suit he doesn’t remember putting on. Robin keeps brushing her fingers against his sleeve like she’s checking to make sure he’s still there. Dustin’s sitting stiffly in the second row, jaw clenched so hard it looks painful. People keep coming up to him. “I’m so sorry.” “She was such a light.” “You were so good together.” He nods. He says thank you. He doesn’t hear himself speak. It feels like he’s underwater. The casket is closed. He asked for that. He knew he couldn’t see her like that. He never wanted to see her still. She wasnt the type of person to ever be still. She was always so full of life. She was the sun, the moon, and the stars in his eyes in his universe.
He can’t have his last memory of her be like that. He wants it to be her laughing in the passenger seat. Feet on the dashboard. Talking about yellow paint. When the service starts, everything feels distant. A soft hymn he doesn’t recognize. The murmur of fabric shifting as people sit.The sound of someone quietly crying in the back.
Her mother stands first. Her voice trembles. “She always loved stories,” she says, smiling through tears. “When she was little, she used to make up futures for herself. She’d say, ‘One day I’m going to have a house full of books and dogs and sunlight.’”
Steve’s chest caves in. House. Books. Dogs. Sunlight. He stares at his hands. He sees her spinning in that empty living room. “You could put a couch there.” He presses his nails into his palms.
Robin speaks next. She walks slowly to the front, clutching a folded piece of paper as if it might steady her. “I didn’t know her as long as some of you,” Robin says, voice wavering. “But I knew her long enough to know she was stubborn in the best way. She loved fiercely. She believed in people even when they didn’t believe in themselves.” Her eyes flicker to Steve. “And she made my best friend happier than I’d ever seen him.” There’s a soft murmur through the room. Steve stares at the floor. He doesn’t feel happy. He feels hollow. Then someone touches his shoulder.
It’s the pastor. “Would you like to say something?” The room turns toward him.
Every face. Every expectation.
He doesn’t remember standing up. He just knows suddenly he’s at the front. The air feels too thin. He looks at the closed casket. For a second, he almost can’t speak.
Then
“She hated lilies,” he blurts out. A few confused glances ripple through the room. “She thought they smelled like hospitals.” A soft, broken laugh escapes from someone in the back. He swallows. “She..” His voice cracks. He clears it. “She would’ve made fun of how serious this all feels.” His eyes burn. “She wasn’t… dramatic. She wasn’t loud. But she was… steady. She made things feel possible.” He stares at the wood grain of the casket because looking at the room hurts too much. “We were going to paint the kitchen yellow.” The words hang in the air.
He hears someone start crying harder. “She wanted dogs. At least two. She said creaky floors were ‘character.’” His voice shakes. “I keep thinking about the last thing she said to me.”
The green light. Her laugh. “Promise me something.” He can’t breathe for a second. “She said we’d paint the kitchen yellow,” he whispers. Silence fills the church. Heavy. Unforgiving. “I thought we had time,” he says, barely audible now. “I thought we had so much time.” His voice breaks fully. And he doesn’t stop it. “I loved her,” he says. “I loved her so much.” The words tear out of him. “And I would’ve chosen her. Even knowing ” He cuts himself off. He can’t finish that sentence here. Not in front of everyone. He steps back, shaking. Robin catches his arm before he falls. At the graveside, the wind picks up slightly. The sky stays stubbornly gray. The casket is lowered slowly. Mechanically. Too calm. Each soft thud of dirt against wood sounds louder than it should. Steve stands at the edge, hands numb. He remembers another letter. The one that said: You’ll think if you had walked away, she’d still be here. He closes his eyes. He sees her face in the car. “Steve?” she whispered. “I’m here.” He opens his eyes to a wooden box disappearing into the ground. He wasn’t there long enough. He wasn’t enough. His chest tightens painfully. People start to leave. Soft hugs. Whispered condolences. Eventually, it’s just him. Robin lingers for a second. “I’ll be by the car,” she says gently. He nods. He steps closer to the grave. The dirt is fresh. Too fresh. He crouches slowly, knees trembling. “Hey,” he whispers.
The wind brushes through the trees. He laughs weakly. “You’d hate how quiet this is.”His throat tightens. “I found that house again. The one with the creaky floors.” His voice shakes. “I stood outside it yesterday.” He presses his palm into the damp earth. “They painted the kitchen blue.”
A tear slips down his cheek. “You would’ve said that was wrong.” His shoulders shake now.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers. “I’m so sorry.” He doesn’t know what he’s apologizing for anymore.
For loving her.
For not saving her.
For surviving.
“I would still choose you,” he says softly. The words feel like they’re breaking him open from the inside. “Every time.” The wind moves again. And for a second, just a second, it almost feels like she’s there. Not in some dramatic way. Just in memory. In the shape she left behind. He stands slowly. The sky is still gray. The world hasn’t stopped. Cars pass on the road beyond the cemetery. Life keeps moving. He looks down at the fresh mound of earth. And for the first time since the accident, the grief isn’t sharp. It’s heavy. Settled. Permanent. Like something he’ll carry in his chest for the rest of his life. He turns away.
And walking back to the car feels like the hardest thing he’s ever done.
this is such a random post from me and and im lowkey on my phone just to post this but the edits of el/ jane break my heart so much i feel so maternal towards her because i see myself in her she deserved so much more i can’t believe you duffer brothers more like suffer brothers
The three times Robin and Nancy finally tell the group they are together (finally).
Little side note, sorry I disappeared, I got busy and then got surgery last week, but I am back, I am alive, yay!
word count - 1.6k
GIF is not mine, and el is alive in my world, fight me
1. STEVE FINDS OUT
The Hawkins community radio station was quiet in a way that felt unnatural.
Steve noticed it the second he stepped inside.
Usually, Robin filled the space as if it were her personal mission. Talking over static, complaining about playlists, and arguing with the microphone like it could hear her. Silence from Robin Buckley was never a good sign.
Steve frowned, keys still in his hand. “Hello? Buckley? If you’ve abandoned your post again, I am telling your manager.”
Nothing.
He walked farther in, shoes squeaking against the tile, the hum of the equipment buzzing too loud in the absence of Robin’s voice.
“Robin?” he called again. “You can’t just leave the board unattended, that’s like radio law or something.”
He rounded the corner toward the sound booth.
And stopped.
Nancy Wheeler was there.
Sitting on the edge of the counter, legs hooked around Robin’s hips. Robin stood between them, hands resting on Nancy’s waist like that was the most natural thing in the world. Their foreheads were touching. Robin was smiling softly, unguarded, the kind of smile she never wore in public.
They weren’t kissing.
They were worse than kissing.
They were content.
Steve’s brain completely shut off.
“…Huh.”
Robin squeaked like she’d been startled by a fire alarm. “STEVE!”
Nancy flinched so hard she nearly slid off the counter. “Steve oh my god.”
Steve immediately looked at the ceiling. “I’m so sorry. I swear I knock usually. I just there was no talking, and that’s alarming.”
Robin’s face turned bright red. “This is not this is not what it looks like.”
Nancy slowly turned to her. “…Robin.”
“I panic when observed!” Robin hissed. “You know this!”
Steve risked another glance. Squinted. “It looks like… feelings.”
Silence slammed into the room.
The hum of the radio equipment suddenly felt deafening.
Nancy took a steady breath. “Yeah.”
Robin swallowed. “Yeah. That’s… accurate.”
Steve blinked. “Yeah as in-”
“We’re together,” Robin said quickly, words tumbling out. “Dating. On purpose. With emotions.”
Steve stared at them.
Then he sat down. Hard. The rolling chair squeaked loudly and rolled back an inch.
“…Okay,” he said slowly. “Okay. Cool.”
Robin tilted her head. “That did not sound cool.”
“No, no, it is,” Steve insisted, hands waving frantically. “I just my brain is buffering.”
Nancy slid off the counter and stood beside Robin. “Steve, you don’t have to”
“How long?” he asked suddenly.
“Six months,” Robin said quietly.
Steve’s head snapped up. “SIX MONTHS?”
“Lower your voice!” Robin whispered urgently. “This building echoes! The microphones are always listening!”
“You have been lying to me,” Steve said, pointing an accusing finger at her. “To my face.”
“I have been selectively omitting information,” Robin corrected. “Which is legally different.”
Steve stood up and started pacing. “Okay. Okay. Nancy Wheeler. My ex-girlfriend. And Robin Buckley. My best friend.”
Robin winced. “Please stop saying it like a math problem.”
“I’m not mad,” Steve said quickly, turning back toward them. “I swear. I’m just processing.”
Nancy crossed her arms. “Processing what?”
Steve stopped pacing. Looked at them. Really looked.
Robin’s shoulders were tense, braced for impact. Nancy stood steady beside her, protective without even realizing it.
“…You’re happy,” Steve said softly.
Robin nodded. “Yeah.”
Nancy nodded too. “We really are.”
Steve exhaled, long and slow, like he’d been holding his breath without realizing it. “Okay.”
A beat passed.
Then, because Steve Harrington could never let a moment stay serious for long
“But also,” he added, pointing between them, “if either of you breaks the other’s heart, I will simply never emotionally recover.”
Robin let out a shaky laugh. “Fair.”
Nancy smiled despite herself. “Duly noted.”
Steve stepped forward and pulled them both into a hug awkward, one-armed, way too tight.
“I love you idiots,” he muttered.
Robin hugged him back immediately. “We love you too.”
Steve pulled away and sniffed. “Cool. Great. Not crying. Allergies.”
Robin squinted. “It’s February.”
“Radio dust,” Steve said firmly.
Nancy laughed, and for Steve, that was when it fully clicked.
2. DUSTIN, MAX, AND LUCAS
The arcade was loud in the way only an arcade could be.
Machines chimed and beeped, neon lights flashed, and Dustin Henderson was aggressively shaking a claw machine like it had personally insulted his entire family tree.
“This thing is rigged,” Dustin snapped. “There is no universe where I miss four times in a row.”
Max, leaning against a skee-ball machine, didn’t even look up. “Skill issue.”
Lucas, sitting on the edge of a racing game, glanced over. “You’ve been saying that for ten minutes.”
“It’s a fact,” Dustin shot back. “This machine is anti-me.”
Robin cleared her throat. Loudly. Intentionally.
“Okay,” she said, clapping once. “Before Dustin commits a felony against capitalism, Nancy and I have something to say.”
