#nancy wheeler fanfic | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

robinsno1lesbian · 1 year

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𝐈'𝐌 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐆, 𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆 - 𝐍.𝐖.

nancy wheeler x female! reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: a trip to murray's cabing changes everything between you and nancy. 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 6226

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 18+ mature content! (MDNI), mention of alcohol, fingering, soft dom!nancy, oral, thigh riding, finger sucking, praise kink, use of petnames, dirty talk (let me know if i missed anything!) 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: we need more nancy wheeler x reader content on tumbrl!!! no beta read because who needs that anyway? (i definitely do but...you know?) also the ending is kind of rushed because i had to leave lmao

he raises his brow in surprise as you friendly decline the offer of sleeping in one bed with nancy.

"oh" you say. "oh no- we aren't- we aren't that- i mean...we're friends"

he huffs, leaning forward in his armchair, his elbows resting on his knees.

"now this is interesting..." he glares from you over to nancy, then back at you.

"you're telling me there isn't some secret thing going on between the two of you?"

you watch nancy from the corner of your eye, the question seemingly catching her by surprise.

before either of you can give an answer, he leans back again.

"well Y/N Y/L/N you are quite easy to read...always present, yet somehow you never fit in. some might say it is because you're insecure or...whatever girls your age might be. but I don't think that's the whole truth, or is it?"

you open your mouth, then close it again like a fish on land.

"you, Y/N, are different from all the others and you know it. you know you won’t fit it. you know you won't ever like a boy the way your girlfriends might, don't you? and this is why you keep a distance from everyone else in this world because, god forbid, what if someone finds out?"

you can hear nancy inhale sharply right next to you, but you are too focused on his words to care.

"you, however,” he turns to face nancy. "you are harder to read…" he nods slowly.

"but i think....i think I figured you out too...nancy wheeler you aren't that different from our lovely Y/N here, you know? well, you have been with boys, haven't you? but here is my theory-"

he inhales.

"you have been running your entire life. when things get messy, nancy wheeler is the first to run. but it's not just with others, you do it to yourself too. you run away from your own feelings, desperately trying to push them away. as if they'd vanish into nothingness as long as you just keep running"

you shoot a glare at nancy.

her eyes are wide, her nostrils flaring in the dim light of the room.

"you seek the comfort of some boy, am i right? thinking that the salvation of his arms will eventually drown out all of the other things that your heart is longing for. i just know there is one, i just need a name...what's his name, come on. what's his name?!"

"steve" you say. the name alone is enough to make your blood boil. "his name is steve"

"steve! you seek steve's comfort, love and maybe even validation because it might make it all go away. but nancy wheeler, it won't. and you see this is the difference between the two of you. Y/N is keeping her distance because she knows what she's feeling and she's scared other people will know it too but you...my god you just run away from it until your whole body is sore"

your heart is beating a mile a minute, thundering within your chest.

could he be right? he certainly was when it came to his assumptions about you.

"so..." he spreads his arms. "how was i?"

nancy jumps up from the couch fast -too fast.

"whatever you think you know" she nearly snaps, close to losing her temper.

"it's wrong. i will gladly take the couch. y/n can have the bed. now if you would just...leave us?"

you swallow the spark of hope that you've felt about the thought of nancy, secretly being just like you, and get up.

"where is the bedroom?" you ask, trying to ease the tension.

"nancy and girls" you sigh, as you sit down on the bed. "as if!"

you scoff, trying to push the thought away for another time, and lay down in the bed that is supposed to be yours for the night.

you very much know you'd be lying if you said the thought of it wasn't thrilling. you know you've liked nancy for a long time now -longer than you'd care to admit.

though you've always thought she was straight, well, until this very moment.

your desperate attempt of trying to escape the thoughts turns out to be unsuccessful as you find yourself tossing and turning relentlessly.

eventually, you sit up again.

you feel the urge to explain it all to nancy. to at least clear out whatever has gotten into her.

and even though you have no idea how to start, you move towards the door.

when you open it, the darkness of the night immediately spilling into your room, you are surprised to see another silhouette making its way through the living room -one you would recognize out of a million others.

'nancy?' you whisper, your fingers searching for the light switch.

once it's found, light floods the room, allowing you to see more of her than just a shadow.

her hair is put up messily and she's wearing her pajamas already. her arms are hugging her own body tight as if that would make the uncomfortable autumn cold go away.

'hey..'

'hi,' she replies, awkwardly stepping closer to you.

'look, y/n, about what he said earlier...i don't even know where to start but...'

'he's totally drunk' you interrupt, your face growing hot. 'that's all!'

she looks up, and something within her eyes, her big blue doe eyes, is different. you just can't place it yet.

regardless of that, she nods, a brief smile flashing over her face.

'yeah right? i mean he is so drunk...'

you quickly nod, fighting back the urge to bite your lower lip, as you always do when telling a lie.

he might have been drunk, but that isn't what this is about. it isn't the reason why he said all of those things.

'he totally was...' the silence that follows is nearly unbearable.

'i am...i am gonna go to bed now' you finally speak, your words cutting through the night like a knife.

'oh- yes sure'

'good night, nance'

you turn on your heel, not really waiting for an answer, to go back to bed.

'what the fuck y/n' you whisper to yourself once you have reached the safety of being behind closed doors.

you shake your head slightly before laying down again.

frustrated you turn off the light on your nightstand, a gesture that is supposed to be final.

just a couple of seconds later you switch it back on.

how is one to even think of sleep like this? and why did this guy, murray, have to bring this stuff up?

your head is spinning, filled with questions that need to be answered.

for the second time, you throw the thick blanket aside to sit up.

you feel so stupid, but the uncertainty is even worse. there is a bit of worry, too, because something, though you aren't entirely sure what it is, is clearly wrong with nancy.

the cold floor beneath your feet makes you shiver as you walk through the room.

once you’ve made your way to the door, your hand reaches for the doorknobs.

as you try to walk out of it, you notice that the lights are still turned on.

yet before you have the chance to focus on that, you crash into nancy, who is standing just a couple of inches away from your door.

her sudden presence takes you by surprise, yet the fact that she is standing as close to you as she currently is, causes your mind to go completely blank.

your eyes meet hers and the glance that is exchanged tells you more than a thousand words.

her pupils are blown wide, leaving little of the blue in her eyes. there is something else in her gaze, something you have never seen in her before.

almost a hunger for something and...

oh.

before you can question what exactly is going on, you feel nancy's lips on your own.

plump and pink, they're pressed against your skin and you can't help but return the kiss.

and as unsure and delicate as it might be, it rouses all the feelings you've tried to oppress.

the stolen moments of loving nancy in silence threaten to spill out all at once, all of that just because of a simple kiss.

you wonder what else nancy could do if this results from nothing but her lips on yours.

unfortunately, the sensation goes just as fast as it has come.

nancy takes a step back and stares up at you apologetically.

she's pounding and shocked by her own actions and all you can do is stare right back at her, surprised by the unsaid confession she has made.

she brings her hand up to her chest in what seems like an attempt to stop her heart from racing.

she stumbles backward too, as if in fear.

it is painful to watch her like this. as if you’d judge her -or even worse hate her- for kissing you.

too painful, you quickly decide.

so you go after her, follow her, and within two big steps, your chest bumps into hers.

carefully, you place a hand on her cheek, taking in the heat that's radiating from her skin.

'nance' you choke out.

then your lips are pressed against hers again and everything falls into place. you move quicker than your brain can comprehend but none of it matters.

her hands are in your hair and on your waist and her lips, god, her lips are the only thing you can focus on.

every inch of your skin is on fire at the feeling and the more your lips move together, the more confident you grow.

eventually, her tongue slips past your lips and the last bits of ice are broken into nothingness.

she nearly throws her body towards you, catching you by surprise as you manage some shaky steps back until hitting the door behind you.

nancy's lips never leave yours as she cups your face with both of her hands, the kiss growing more and more intense with every second that goes by.

you can feel the pad of nancy's thumb, gently caressing your cheek. you can feel the same breath the two of you are sharing, coming hot and heavy from her lips.

at the first small noise that erupts from the back of her throat, you nearly cry out, as you've been dying to hear such sweet noises coming from nancy's lips.

she must have noticed, as a steady flow of light moans and gasps escapes her lips.

eventually, you have to break the kiss, trying to catch your breath as you stare at her.

you are mesmerized, her lips puffy from the kisses you have shared.

'nance...' you whine, hating yourself for how desperate you sound.

'god nancy...'

she takes the hint, pushing you into the room and closing the door on your way in.

she takes advantage of your foggy state of mind and guides the two of you through the room, until the back of your knees hit the bed.

you gladly allow her to push you down onto the mattress but she eagerly follows, crawling over your body until her face lingers above yours.

her lips are slightly parted and shine in the dim light of the room. her chest rises and falls as her breaths come in short puffs.

you’re thankful that she has decided to take control over the situation. it’s pleasant but not surprising: nancy has always liked to be in control of things.

you reach out and brush the hair out of her face -a gesture to calm down both her and your own nerves.

your heart is beating a mile a minute and your mind is struggling to keep up with everything that is happening.

"what do you want nancy?" you whisper and bite your lower lip. she looks gorgeous, towering over you with a determined look on her face.

"i want you. all of you" she licks her lips. "if that's okay?"

"more than okay" you reply, nodding eagerly.

she leans back. "sit up"

you do as you're told, all of your limbs listening to nancy's command.

you sit up slowly, leaning against the headboard for support as you watch nancy straddle your lap.

you can immediately feel the heat coming from underneath her thin shorts. you mutter curses under your breath at the new feeling.

she takes your head in her hands, her thumbs massaging your cheeks.

"we don't have to do this okay? i don't want you to feel pressured or-"

"nance" you cut her off sharply. "i do want this"

you emphasize your point by placing your hands on top of hers.

"i want this so bad" your voice turns into a whine that you can't find the strength to feel embarrassed about. but if anything, it spurs nancy on.

she kisses you again, passionately and with purpose.

you fight back the urge to roam her entire body with your hands and choose to place them on her waist, giving her an encouraging squeeze.

the moment you part your lips, nancy's tongue slips past them again.

you moan into her mouth at the feeling.

you doubt that you would ever get tired of kissing nancy but she isn't done with you yet.

she yanks your head back and attacks your neck with kisses.

you can feel her sucking on your skin, right below your jaw, and that feeling alone is enough to let you see stars.

"oh god" you mutter.

nancy looks up at you to make sure what she's doing is alright.

"take off my clothes" you murmur, lost in the blue of her hungry eyes.

"gladly" she replies, already fumbling with the hem of your shirt.

you lift your arms, giving her easier access as she strips off the item and throws is across the room. you are not wearing a bra and, with the clothing gone, you find yourself topless underneath nancy wheeler.

she takes a moment to admire your body, her eyes looking at you in awe.

"you're beautiful" she finally speaks, all while unbuttoning her own shirt as well.

she's a tease, pushing each button through its hole slowly while never breaking eye contact.

"god nance" you groan with anticipation that makes her giggle.

the shirt falls loosely around her slender shoulders and she pushes it off of her body in a smooth motion.

it pools around her hips and you are face to face with nancy’s tits. she is, without a doubt, gorgeous and it takes everything within you not to put your hands all over her.

"you are stunning, nancy" you tell her, your fingertips ghosting over her back, moving downwards.

goosebumps start to rise beneath them and she shivers.

"touch me" nancy mumbles. her eyelids flutter close when your touch becomes firm on her back.

you allow your hands to wander for a bit before moving them to her chest.

you inhale sharply as your palms cup her breasts.

nancy lets out a breathy laugh at your reaction.

"like what you see?"

you nod, your mouth falling slightly open while you run your thumbs over her nipples.

nancy sucks in a breath, her back arching further into your touch.

"f-fuck" she mumbles and you smile.

if this is a dream, you find yourself thinking, please let me stay here forever. fortunately, it is not a dream. nancy is there, on top of you, impatiently straddling your lap.

without giving it any further consideration, you lean forward and put your mouth on her.

nancy shudders beneath your lips. her hands are immediately curling up in your hair in an attempt to pull you closer.

you place gentle kisses on her skin before wrapping your lips around her nipple, sucking carefully.

you’ve never done this before but nancy’s reaction confirms that she seems to like what you’re doing to her:

her head falls back and you watch her through thick lashes. she is completely blissed out, experiencing this much pleasure from nothing but your lips.

“oh” she breathes shakily.

your fingers dance over her ribcage, slowly moving further down, all while your lips never leave her chest.

but just when you reach the elastic of her shorts, she grabs your wrists and stops you.

you immediately release her nipple with a wet pop and lean back.

nancy's pupils are blown, giving her a dark look. it sends another heatwave straight to your center and you nearly moan at the sight of it.

"wait" she whispers.

"are you okay?"

she nods slowly. "don't worry, i just-"

blush creeps up her cheeks and you grin sheepishly. "it's okay" you reassure. "whatever you want"

"need you like this" she slurs.

you raise your brows at her. "like what?"

but she's already shifting her body, leaving her straddling just one of your thighs.

you can feel her hot center against your exposed skin, her heat soaking through the thin layer of fabric.

"i want to ride you" she admits in one shaky breath. "is that okay?"

god, you know you want nothing more than for nancy wheeler to make a mess on your thigh.

"yes please" you place your hands on her hips. "you can do whatever you want to me nance"

the confession slips past your lips before you can comprehend your words. but nancy doesn't seem to mind: it even turns her on further.

"yeah?" she mumbles against your lips and, to test the waters, rolls her hips against you for the first time. her center creates a delicious kind of friction that runs through your entire body.

your fingers tighten around her hips which she takes as a sign to move faster.

"fuck" nancy groans “you’re so good for letting me ride you like this” she presses her lips against yours.

the kiss is uncoordinated, all tongue and teeth while nancy never stops rutting against you.

she reaches out to grab the headboard behind you for support, caging you in between her arms. you wouldn’t mind dying like this, suffocated by the magic that is nancy wheeler.

the friction between your bodies gets more fiery as the seconds pass by and you can’t stop your hips from bucking upward im sync with nancy’s slow rolling.

you stare up at her. her eyes are shut tightly and her head has fallen back. her lips are parted and a steady stream of quiet moans is coming out of them. she looks like a mess.

a beautiful fucking mess, all because of you.

"yeah" you encourage her and her eyes fly open to look at you. "just like that nance"

feeling especially bold, you ground her against yourself, once, twice.

her eyes roll back and the loudest moan so far leaves her mouth.

god, more of that, please.

as she gets off on your thigh, an idea occurs to you: her tits are bouncing right in front of your eyes, her nipples still glistening from your previous actions.

you kiss the valley between her breasts before working on her left breast. you flick your tongue over the hardened nipple harshly and nancy moans again.

"fuck y/n- feels so good! you’re doing such a good job” her voice sounds breathless and high pitched but there is something firm about it. like she’s still the one in charge.

nancy’s praise goes straight to your center.

your hands cup her other breast and give it a squeeze.

"god" she keens. "god, fuck- please don't stop"

you would not dare to stop. not when you can feel her cunt throbbing against you through her pants. not when she's holding onto that creaking headboard for dear life. not when this whole sight is making you wetter than you've ever been all your life.

so, naturally, you just keep going. after a couple of minutes, the only noise that is filling the room is the one coming from between nancy's legs. the delicious sounds of her arousal, being dragged over your thigh by the force of her hips. her eyes have fallen shut again but she's closing them tightly now. squeezing them together with a concentrated look written over her face.

you can tell, right then and there, that she is close. her breath is becoming shorter with every exhale and her movements are faster than they have been before.

"'m close" she mutters through gritted teeth. "y/n please, so close-" the headboard gives another concerning creak.

the sensation and heat of the moment are becoming too much and not nearly enough.

nancy reaches for the back of your head with one of her hands and yanks you back, away from her sensitive breasts. your gaze instantly meets hers.

“kiss me” she groans.

you follow her order immediately, pressing your lips to hers. you drink every noise that comes from nancy’s throat, take in every moan and whine that she can’t oppress.

you can feel her on your leg and you don’t even have to look at it to know that she’s incredibly wet. your teeth graze her lower lip at the same time you flex your muscle against her at and that is all it takes.

"gonna cum, gonna cum" she cries out.

her movements stutter and you take the opportunity to move her against you by the hips.

nancy throws her head back, her curls framing her face perfectly. her mouth has fallen open and her eyes have rolled back.

her body goes completely rigid as her orgasm washes over her.

"fuck" she cries out loudly, not stopping her movements just yet. you let go of her, allowing her to ride you mercilessly but at her own pace.

the room felt cold before, but that seems to be long gone. you can feel a thin layer of sweat of your forehead and hot puffs of nancy’s breath on your skin.

nancy, who is still cumming on top of you. her orgasm ripples through her in waves and she’s grinding down desperately.

“y/n” she manages. “look at me”

your eyes meet hers. her mouth hangs open, her chest heaving rapidly. you can’t help but take pride in that. you are the one who made her look like this.

she slows down, her clit too sensitive for any further stimulation.

once she has ridden out her orgasm, her limbs begin shaking against you.

"hey nance" you spread your arms and she immediately understands. with her body slack, she drops against you, but you gladly let her.

you wrap your arms around her and she places her head on your chest.

her hand finds yours and she reaches for it in an instant. you smile at the feeling of her fingers linked with yours.

there is no place in this world you would rather be right now.

"thank you" she murmurs hazily.

you press your lips to her temple.

"do you need something? water? a blanket?"

she shakes her head. "just you. for now."

you nod because you know she's right. nancy wheeler is all you ever needed in life.

after a while, nancy untangles herself from your sweet embrace. you raise your brows at her but she just smiles, takes you by the shoulders, and pushes you down into the pillow.

"woah nance" you laugh. "we don't have to-"

she cuts you off. "i want to. if that's okay?"

you don't need to be asked twice. of course you want nancy, considering the wetness that's still pooling between your legs, you actually need her. desperately.

"it's more than okay" you lean up to meet her lips halfway.

you moan against her lips as she parts them for you. she takes her time kissing you, exploring every inch of your mouth as her hands pin you down.

making out with nancy is pure bliss but, by the way your hips buck up involuntarily, you know you need more than that.

nancy hums against your wet and plump lips. "what do you need?"

"please" it's barely a whisper. "touch me"

her hand moves down your body, all the way down to the hemline of your pants.

your whole body shivers at the contact and your hips buck into her hands.

"shhh" she whispers. "don't worry. I'll take care of you”

you nod and she strokes your cheek gently before leaning in to kiss your earlobe.

the sensation of her breath against your skin sends shivers down your spine.

her lips are right next to your ear as she whispers: "take your pants off”

you moan and nancy chuckles. "so needy for me?"

you can't help but nod enthusiastically.

"you sound so pretty when you moan" she continues. "i wanna hear more"

you flick the buttons of your pants and pull them down your legs before kicking them off the bed, leaving you in nothing but your panties.

nancy's hand returns to your lower half and she lets her trimmed nails slightly scratch down your belly. she watches you with careful eyes, taking in each one of your reactions.

then, finally, she reaches your panties.

"are you sure this is okay?"

"yes" you breathe. "yes, yes. just please touch me already"

she grins and her fingers finally crawl below the waistband of your underwear.

your eyes flutter when you feel her hand cupping your core. her palm is warm against you. her lips part and she gasps when she moves a single, delicate finger down to your entrance.

"you're so wet for me" she mumbles, her voice sounding genuinely surprised.

she collects some of your wetness on her digit and brings it up to your clit, drawing small circles around it.

"fuck" your legs violently shake underneath her body and you nearly choke on a moan. "fuck nancy"

"does it feel good?" she asks with a smirk plastered over her face.

of course it feels good. how couldn’t it?

"y-yeah" you mutter.

"good" she whispers and removes her fingers.

"nancy-" you whine at the loss.

but the brunette leans back and brings up her hand in front of your face.

her fingers are glistering in the dim light of the room. you can see a string of your own arousal between her middle and ring finger as she experimentally spreads them apart.

"you made such a mess" she bites her lip. "such a pretty fucking mess. and i didn’t even touch you yet…”

her dirty talking does things to you that you have never experienced before. if she talks for long enough, you fear you might actually come undone.

"can you clean it up for me?" she questions, her clean hand moving under your chin to lift your gaze.

nancy stares down at you expecting an answer and you feel like putty in her hands.

"y-yeah" you rasp.

"good girl" she murmurs and you clench around absolutely nothing.

"fucking hell, nancy"

"too much?" she asks, sudden worry written all over her face.

you shake your head immediately. "god no. it's perfect. you're perfect"

she smiles, then brings up her fingers and moves them along your lower lip.

“open up” she murmurs.

you don’t need to be told twice.

you’ve never tasted yourself before, the thought has never even occurred to you before. but now, with your wetness coating nancy’s beautiful fingers, there is nothing holding you back.

you can feel your own wetness coating them, but you can't bring up the willpower to be disgusted by it. not in the slightest. you want this more than ever.

your lips part and nancy inhales sharply as you take her fingers into your mouth.

you taste salty, with an edge of sweetness and something that is entirely your own. it makes you moan around her.

the brunette watches you through half lidded eyes. she can tell you’re enjoying this by the way your eyes roll back as she explores your mouth.

your legs tremble when nancy pushes them further into your mouth.

"god" she groans as she watches you. "fuck, y/n, you look so pretty like this"

you swirl your tongue around her fingers, sucking off the last bits of your arousal. but it doesn’t end here.

nancy crooks her finger inside of your mouth, hooks them right behind your front bottom teeth and pulls your mouth open slightly.

all you can really focus on is the way she’s pressing down on your tongue.

you hum around a mouthful of wetness, licking her digits clean. to give her an extra show, you move your head as you lick over them.

nancy strokes your hair out of your face to get a better look at you and smiles.

eventually, she removes her fingers from your mouth.

"i need to taste you" she mumbles absentminded as she stars at her wet hand. "are you okay with that?"

the thought of nancy's head between your thighs is dizzying. you never had someone going down on you before but, secretly, you always wondered what it would feel like to get fucked mindlessly by someone else's tongue.

just that until this moment, no one ever offered to actually do it.

"please do" you whisper.

that's all nancy needs. she pushes you down and starts kissing your torso.

she's taking her time to give your breasts equal treatment to what you have given her before: sucking your soft skin into her mouth and leaving a generous amount of marks before swirling her tongue around your nipples.

when her lips begin to move lower, you instinctively open your legs for her, bending them at the knees.

you lean your head back in anticipation and look up at the ceiling above.

so this is actually happening.

your cheeks flush when nancy hooks her thumbs under the waistband of your panties. the thought of her actually seeing all of you makes you nervous.

but when she tilts her head you give her a firm nod.

she pulls them down slowly, giving you time to stop her in case you'd change your mind.

and then they're gone.

you are in bed, completely naked and with nancy wheeler towering above you.

you can't help but feel the slightest bit exposed and close your legs.

but nancy places her palms on top of your knees.

"don't" she whispers. "don't hide from me. you're gorgeous"

you allow her to push your legs apart again, her eyes grazing downward as she does so.

you don’t miss the way she licks her lips when her stare reaches your pussy.

"keep your legs open for me, okay?"

you nod and she moves to lay in between them, her face just inches away from your pussy.

"god" she groans. "fuck y/n, you’re so fucking wet for me"

your eyes roll back in your head as her breath hits your exposed clit.

nancy notices and raises her brows, surprised at how badly you seem to need her.

"please" you mouth, unable to form a proper sentence.

and who is nancy to deny a pretty girl like you?

her head dips in between your thighs and just a second later you feel her tongue on you. a shuddered breath escapes your lips as she licks through you, collecting your wetness on her tongue.

the feeling is different from anything you’ve ever known. it’s so much better. her velvet tongue moves through you as if she knows exactly what to do and where to touch you.

nancy herself lets out an obscene moan at the very first taste of you.

“you taste so good” her dark tone is almost unrecognizable.

she then licks upward, moving the arousal she has gathered up to your clit.

she kitten licks over your bundle of nerves, her palms pressing against the soft flesh of your thighs to spread you open for her.

you grip the sheets beneath you. the feeling of nancy's tongue on you is enough to make you cum right then and there and for a second you're afraid that might actually happen.

"nancy" you moan. her name falls from your lips like a prayer, over and over again. “nancy, fuck-“

her tongue circles your clit, right before her lips wrap around it. your hips jerk into her face over and over and not even nancy's hands on your waist can steady you.

“oh my god” you gasp.

the sheets beneath you are no longer enough. your hands reach for nancy’s curls and you pull her closer to you. she hisses at the sharp tug you give her hair but the noise turns into a pleased hum when she notices what you’re doing.

you already know you won't last long like this, but when nancy begins stroking through you with her middle finger, you’re genuinely afraid that this might just be your very end.

your back arches off the mattress im a beautiful bend while she carefully works a single finger into your throbbing cunt. she barely meets any resistance at all, with how wet you are.

feeling her inside you takes things to a whole new level: her fingers are longer than yours and she’s buried knuckle deep inside of your pussy, reaching depths you were never able to reach on your own.

she keeps it still and leans back to make sure this is not taking it too far.

“please” you plead. “fuck me with your fingers already”

the sob that erupts from you the second she moves inside of you for the first time is hardly human anymore.

the sensation of her fingers thrusting into you and her lips around your clit has you seeing stars.

it’s so much, so good and not nearly enough.

“more” you beg. “please nancy, more- i need more”

you roll your hips with every thrust of her finger and you can feel a second one toying your entrance.

you don't mind at all, far too blissed out to care. in fact, this is exactly what you wanted.

the delicious feeling of being stretched out only turns you on further when her ring finger pushes into you.

she slowly pumps them in and out of you, drawing obscene noises from the in between if your legs.

you squirm wildly on the bed, your knuckles turning white from the strong grasp you have on her hair.

you briefly register the flutter of your walls around nancy’s fingers, the way it’s getting harder for you to keep your legs open.

"nancy, nance, I'm close" you whine, feeling the build-up of your orgasm in your lower abdomen.

she growls against you, determined to make you cum.

she pumps her finger into you, the base of her knuckles pounding against your skin and her tongue not once stops flicking over your clit.

your breath hitches as she hits the spot inside of your that makes you scream, moving both of them in a “come hither” motion against you.

"nance" you say. it is somewhat of a warning. "nance, god, yeah just like that-"

your cunt squelching against nancy's fingers and your eyes roll back as she pushes you over the edge.

"you're gonna make me cum- nancy you’re gonna-“ you moan, right before your climax washes over you.

and then you cum. hard.

the orgasm completely shatters your body and all nancy can do is flatten out her tongue so you can ride it out.

your hands on her are the only thing grounding you to this earth.

your hips buck into her face uncontrollably and you bring up a hand over your mouth to hold back the scandalous moans.

nancy continues to fuck you through your climax, and you can feel your arousal flowing out of you.

your muscles twitch and your hips slow down. you wince at the overstimulation over her tongue lapping over you.

“‘s so much” you slur and all stimulation stops at once.

you look down to find nancy already looking up at you. her face is ruined.

your arousal is dripping down her chin and her hair is a mess. she has a smile on her lips nonetheless.

"god y/n you're so beautiful" nancy whispers.

you let out an airy laugh, the aftershocks of your orgasm rippling through you.

“i’m gonna remove my fingers now, okay?” she asks, her voice impossibly gentle.

you nod and she slowly pulls them out of you. you sob at the loss of being filled by her.

“shhh” she hushes you. “it’s okay, i’m here y/n.”

she moves up to you, careful not to accidentally put her weight onto your shaking body.

"are you okay? was this okay?"

you nod, unable to form a proper sentence yet.

“i’m gonna get water for us” she informs you but you stop her.

“stay” you whine. “just…for a little bit”

a sweet smile creeps up her cheeks and she gently carcasses your neck.

“of course” she speaks calmly. “of course. i’m staying here”

you try to sit up and she immediately reaches out to help you.

you love this and you might just love nancy too. you know you can’t tell her that, not yet at least. but when she lays you down on her chest and wraps her arms around you, you know you want to stay like this forever.

“promise me you’ll stay?” you mumble sleepily.

nancy smiles.

“i promise”

#nancy wheeler #nancy wheeler fanfic #nancy wheeler x reader #nancy wheeler x y/n #nancy wheeler x you #nancy wheeler smut #nancy wheeler fluff #nancy wheeler imagine #nancy wheeler x female reader #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fanfic #stranger things x reader #stranger things x female reader

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ghosttotheparty · 1 year

Text

change of fate

also on ao3 cw: death, wounds, blood, grief, depression spoiling this for you already eddies not actually dead bc i cant do that

This wasn’t supposed to happen. This wasn’t supposed to happen at all.

The bat falls from Steve’s hand when he sees them on the ground. He told them to get out. His breath leaves his lungs, and he barely hears Robin’s voice quietly say, “Oh, fuck.”

Nancy says something too, but Steve doesn’t hear it, his legs carrying him to where Dustin is holding Eddie.

Dustin’s face is stained with dirt and blood and streaked with tears, his eyes glistening and shining in the dim light of the red sky. He’s sobbing, his whole body trembling as he holds Eddie in his arms.

Steve touches his face, panic making his chest so tight he can barely breathe, wiping a tear away from his cheek, quickly looking over him before his eyes fall.

And Eddie.

He’s covered in blood, his hair tangled and matted with dirt, lips parted for each ragged breath that scrapes at Steve’s skin like sandpaper. He looks at Steve and smiles. There’s blood in his teeth and on his lips.

“What the fuck did I tell you?” Steve snaps, ripping the bandana off Eddie’s head and pressing it to his face, where blood is seeping from a wound on his cheek.

“I know,” Eddie says weakly, his voice rough. “They were— They were gonna follow us through, I’m sorry, Stevie.”

“Dustin,” Nancy says. Her voice is thick, wavering. “Come… Come help up,” she says, pulling at Robin’s hand. Eddie’s eyes wander up to her, and he says so softly he’s almost just exhaling the words, “Thank you.”

“But…” Dustin looks down at Eddie, whose eyes flutter shut for a moment.

“Come on,” Nancy insists.

Dustin’s lip quivers, and he looks down at Eddie, who nods and whispers.

“‘S alright, man.”

Dustin stifles a sob and carefully shifts so Steve can take Eddie in his arms. Steve watches them go, trembling as Eddie takes a breath.

“‘S okay,” he says quietly when they’re gone from view, looking down at Eddie. “It’s gonna be fine.”

“Steve.”

“It— It’s just the same as mine, right?” he says frantically, looking at Eddie’s blood-stained shirt and jacket, at the mangled flesh he can see through the rips and tears in the fabric.

“Steve.”

“We’ll have, like, matching scars, they can— they can be like fucked up friendship bracelets—“

“Steve, please,” Eddie breathes.

Steve shuts up. Eddie is shivering, his limbs trembling, and one of his hands finds Steve’s sleeve, holding the fabric weakly.

“I’m not gonna make it,” Eddie whispers. “‘S okay.”

“Don’t say that,” Steve says sharply. “You’re gonna be fine, they— they’re going to get help, it’s gonna be okay—“

“Steve,” Eddie murmurs. His eyes are half-lidded, glazed over like he’s high. “They just wanted Dustin away from me. He doesn’t… He doesn’t deserve to see this.”

Steve’s throat tightens, and his eyes burn, and he realises what Eddie’s quiet thank you was for, and his whole body hurts. He squeezes his eyes shut and leans over Eddie’s body, suppressing a sob. Eddie’s hand slides up Steve’s arm.

“‘S okay, Steve.”

“No, it’s not,” Steve insists, his voice breaking. His throat feels dry with the dust of the Upside Down. “It’s not okay, and it— it’s not fucking fair, Eddie, you don’t…”

“I know,” Eddie exhales.

He blinks at the sky, and a tear falls across his temple. Steve wipes it away as gently as he can. He’s never been very soft, always a little too rough around the edges, but he doesn’t want to hurt Eddie.

“Steve?” Eddie asks weakly.

“Yeah, Eds?”

“Can you…” He exhales, breathless as he shivers. “Can you tell my uncle Wayne… that it was quick? Just to… ease his mind.”

Steve squeezes his eyes shut, his chest aching.

“I can do that,” he says as firmly as possible.

“And… Tell Dustin that I’m— I’m sorry.” Eddie’s voice squeaks and breaks as he lets out a weak sob that tears through Steve’s skin. “And Nancy and Rob— Robin that I… thank them.”

“Okay,” Steve says gently, running a hand up and down Eddie’s arm.

Eddie exhales shakily, nodding, relaxing. His eyes trace the dark clouds above them, and Steve shifts so Eddie is laying in his lap, watching as Eddie winces.

“Does it hurt?” Steve asks stupidly. Eddie nods.

“You make it better,” he says quietly.

Steve swallows thickly, the words stirring something inside him even though he can’t tell what exactly it is. His stomach flutters, and he feels like he might be sick.

“It’s okay, Steve,” Eddie says softly. “I’m… I’m really tired.”

Steve nods, touching Eddie’s face, brushing over an unwounded spot on his cheek.

“You can rest,” he whispers. “You don’t have to worry about anything anymore.”

Eddie’s eyes skim over to Steve's face. His eyelashes are clumped with tears, and there are tracks in the dirt and blood on his skin, and Steve briefly thinks that he’s beautiful.

“You… You think God’ll let me in?” Eddie asks softly, a smile teasing his lips.

“If he doesn’t, you better come right the fuck back, you understand me?”

Eddie laughs softly, coughing as he nods.

“Okay.”

He’s quiet again for a moment, his breathing ragged.

“Can I tell you something?” he asks quietly. “If you… promise not to get mad at me?”

“Yeah,” Steve says, brushing his thumb over his cheek. “Of course, tell me.”

Eddie stares up at him for a moment before he slides his hand to Steve’s, holding it to himself weakly. His hand is freezing, trembling and covered in dark, tacky blood. Steve doesn’t mind. As long as he’s touching him.

“I gotta crush on you,” Eddie says after a moment, his voice slurred. Steve blinks, his stomach fluttering again.

“…Really?” he chokes.

Eddie nods weakly.

“Since… high school,” he murmurs. “Always thought you were this… pretty mystery boy. Wanted to… to know all your secrets.”

Steve smiled weakly, his eyes flicking across Eddie’a face, over his glistening eyes and blood stained lips, and his stomach twists, and his heart fucking hurts and

Oh.

“You…” He swallows, blinking tears back. “You wanna know a secret now?”

Eddie’s lips twitch into a smile.

“Yeah.”

Steve’s hand falls from Eddie’s face, and their fingers lace. Steve wants to keep him warm.

“I like you too,” he whispers after a moment of hesitation. Eddie blinks at him.

“Don’t do that,” he breathes.

“I’m serious,” Steve says, his voice thin as he tries to hold his tears back. “I… I really like you, I just…” A sob rips itself from his chest, and he gasps, squeezing Eddie’s hand tightly. “If we just— If we just had more time, I—“

“I know,” Eddie whispers. His eyes close as he exhales, and Steve’s stomach lurches, but his eyes open a moment later, cloudy and unfocussed as he tries to find Steve above him.

“I’d take you on a date,” Steve says, forcing a soft smile, ignoring the distant rumble of thunder.

“Really?”

Steve loves the lines in Eddie’s skin that deepen when he smiles. He’s beautiful. Even like this.

“Yeah,” he says. “To the movies. I’d pull all the moves on you, I’d— I’d yawn and stretch and put my arm around you, and I’d pay for everything, and I’d—“ He takes a breath. “I’d tell you how beautiful you are every fucking chance I get.”

Eddie’s smile widens. He exhales roughly.

“Next time,” he whispers.

“Next time?”

“Mm.” Eddie nods weakly. “In our next… next life.”

Steve laughs tearfully, nodding.

“I’ll find you,” he says, his voice too high. “Will you wait for me?”

Eddie sighs.

“Of course, sweetheart.”

Steve closes his eyes, biting his quivering lip.

Eddie turns his head and pulls at Steve’s hand, pressing a bloody kiss to his knuckles. He’s quiet for a moment, his breathing shaky as he shivers. Steve pulls him closer, wraps his arms around him, desperate to keep him warm, to keep him safe.

“My uncle…” Eddie starts quietly. “My uncle says people… aren’t really gone until they’re forgotten.”

Steve smiles fondly, running his thumb over Eddie’s fingers.

“I’m not gonna forget you,” he murmurs.

“No?” Eddie teases. “You gonna keep me in that golden heart of yours, Harrington?”

“Yeah,” Steve chokes, smiling. Eddie’s eyes drift away, and he looks at the sky again. The red glow of it reflects in his eyes, gleaming blankly. “Eddie?”

“Wayne never knew my Ma,” Eddie says weakly. Steve blinks, catching up, his heart pounding from the fear of seeing Eddie’s eyes like that.

“Your Ma?”

“She…” Eddie’s eyes flutter, and he’s crying again, a tear falling down his temple. “She died when I was little. And Wayne… Wayne never met her. He took me in when Dad took to drinkin’ and…” He chokes, his chest seizing as he coughs. More blood appears on his lips, and Steve wipes it away, his hands trembling. “She’s gonna be gone when I’m gone,” he cries, squeezing his eyes shut.

“No, tell me— tell me about her,” Steve says quickly, holding his hand tightly. “Tell me, baby, I’ll— I’ll keep her alive for you.”

Eddie blinks tears out of his eyes, looking at him.

“She…” He takes a shaky breath. “She had hair like… like mine. But she was always braiding it and she always had it… tied up. Out of the way. She was always… working. Painting and cooking and fixing shit. She had calluses…” He pulls at Steve’s hand, tracing a light line across his palm, just under his fingers. “All along here.”

Steve smiles, listening intently.

“She loved sweet tea,” Eddie murmurs. “And strawberries.”

He’s quiet again, his eyes closing, his breath slowing, but his fingers keep moving on Steve’s, fidgeting weakly.

“She used to sing to me,” he breathes.

“What’d she sing to you, baby?” Steve asks quietly whispering.

Eddie sighs, melting into Steve’s lap, letting his head rest again his torso. And then he starts to sing. His voice is weak, and uneven, and off-key, but Steve never wants it to end.

“I was dancing, with my darling… to the Tennessee waltz…” His eyes find Steve’s face, shining and wide and unfocussed as he sings, as Steve touches his cheek again, brushing a tear away. “When an old friend I happened to see… I Introduced her to my loved one and while they were dancing…”

His voice cracks when it gets higher, weak and fading.

“My friend stole my sweetheart from me. I remember the night…” He pauses, taking a breath that catches in his throat, that strains on its way out. “And… the Tennessee Waltz. Now I know just how much I have lost.”

He whispers the words, eyes blinking slowly at Steve, and Steve listens, touching his face. The world around them disappears as he listens, the quiet thunder distant screeches of dying creatures fading into nothing, because nothing matters except this.

“Yes, I lost my little darling on the night they were playing, the beautiful…”

And then it’s silent. Except a soft exhale, a final puff of breath from Eddie’s mouth, and Steve watches as his eyes drift and glaze over, his expression fading.

Steve squeezes his eyes shut, clenching his teeth and gasping for breath as his body seizes, leaning over Eddie’s body.

“Eddie?” he chokes.

Eddie doesn’t answer.

“Eddie,” he tries again, his voice weak, barely there. His vision blurs as he looks at Eddie’s face, and he can barely see him even as he leans close enough that their noses touch. “Eddie, please.”

He falls forward, and Eddie’s head rolls lifelessly, turning away from Steve.

Steve’s arms tighten, and his eyes squeeze shut as he sobs.

He’s never cried like this before. Not when he was a child, not when he’s been injured or scared after nightmares that have made him wake up in cold sweat and tears and sore muscles. It’s never been this violent, sobs and screams ripping their way out of his chest, out of his throat, rough and raw.

He cries until he runs out of tears. Until his voice is almost gone.

He begs him. Pleads with him.

He wants Eddie to finish the song. He wants Eddie to sing forever, until the sun gives out, and he wants Eddie to kiss him.

His throat hurts when he leans down to Eddie’s face, and he gets his own tears on Eddie’s skin as he presses kisses across his cheeks, his forehead and nose and chin and lips. He’s whimpering as he does, each gasp for breath hiccuping and choking as he whispers to Eddie.

My boy, my baby. I’m sorry, Eddie. I shoulda come back sooner, I shoulda… Wait for me, Eddie baby, please. I’ll come find you, I promise.

He makes sure Eddie is comfortable. Folds his hands over his stomach, cleans the blood off his face as best he can. He closes his eyes before pressing soft kisses to his eyelids. He’s so cold. Steve takes off his jacket and drapes it over him, caressing his face, murmuring that he’s okay.

You can rest now, baby, it’s okay. I’ll see you again.

He fluffs his hair out, lays it around his head like a halo, thinking about Eddie’s mother, wondering if she’s holding him in her arms. He sets aside the bandana, the skulls now blood-stained, and carefully takes the guitar pick from Eddie’s neck, holding it in his palm close to his chest as he leans over to kiss his forehead.

“I’m gonna take good care of the little shits,” Steve promises quietly, his voice rough. He sits next to Eddie, holds his hands. He’s so cold. But he’s not shivering anymore. “And I’ll tell Wayne you love him. ‘S gonna be okay, baby.”

He runs his fingers over Eddie’s, over his bloody rings.

He takes one. The one from Eddie’s right ring finger. He rubs the stone on his own jeans, cleaning it before he slides it onto his own finger. It fits.

“Next time,” he whispers, brushing his nose against Eddie’s. “Okay? I’ll take you out, and I’ll treat you real good. We won’t have to worry about… about monsters. Or anything like that. We can just be boys like we’re supposed to.” He’s quiet for a few moments, tracing Eddie’s fingers, gazing at the wound on his face. It doesn’t hurt anymore. “I love you, baby.”

He presses kisses to Eddie’s hands. His fingertips and knuckles and palms. And then he leaves.

He feels heavy. Like every limb is filled with dread, with dirt and broken glass, and every step that carries him away from Eddie’s body makes his throat tighten and muscles ache.

Robin, Nancy, and Dustin are in Eddie’s trailer when he find them. Nancy has Dustin in her arms, his face hidden in her neck, his shoulders shaking as he sobs. Nancy’s face is streaked with tears as she runs her hand over his head. They don’t notice him come in until Robin speaks.

“Steve?”

Her voice cracks, weak and unused, and his eyes find her sitting on the floor across from Nancy and Dustin, who both look up at him.

He can’t speak.

Robin’s eyes are filled with tears as they look at each other, but his are dry now. He shakes his head.

Dustin wails, muffled by Nancy’s shoulder, and she gasps, sobbing weakly.

Steve sits heavily on the floor, clutching Eddie’s bandana and guitar pick to his chest. His eyes unfocus as he stares at the floor. There’s a stain in front of him, dark and oddly shaped. He can’t tell what it is. How long it’s been there. If it’s from a childhood accident or a recent spill.

Dustin’s sobbing fades into white noise, blending with the rush of the blood in Steve’s ears. He’s shaking. Even though he can’t feel it.

Steve?

Robin’s voice is muffled, like Steve is underwater. Her hand touches his shoulder lightly, and he shrinks away from it, shaking his head. He doesn’t want to be touched.

She sits next to him. She doesn’t touch him. This has happened before. Some nights after particularly bad nightmares he can’t stand the feeling of anything on him. She waits for him. Always.

“Dustin,” he says after a while, when the room has fallen silent except some weak sniffles and coughs. His voice is rough like he’s sick. His throat is raw. “Come here.”

Dustin comes here. Nancy helps him.

He sits in front of Steve, one of his legs outstretched because his ankle is broken. Steve forces himself to look at him, at his cracked lips and bloody skin, at his glistening eyes and tear-clumped lashes. He looks so… young. He’s just a kid.

He’s just a fucking kid.

Steve swallows his anger down, taking a breath.

“He said…” He pauses, clearing his throat. “He said he’s sorry.”

Dustin’s lip quivers.

Steve’s fingers tighten on the bandana, and then he separates it from the guitar pick before holding it out to Dustin.

Dustin looks at it, reaching for it with a tentative, trembling hand. The fabric shakes. He starts to cry again, bringing the bandana for his face as his shoulders shake, and he falls forward, into Steve’s arms.

“It’s okay,” Steve lies, hugging him tightly, kissing his head.

He closes his eyes, listening to Dustin cry into his chest, running his hands over his head and his back, only stopping when Nancy’s hand rests on his his. It takes her a moment before she notices the ring around his finger.

Their eyes meet over Dustin head, and he knows she can tell. That she knows everything.

“It’s okay,” she murmurs.

He closes his eyes.

Nancy kisses Dustin’s head, whispering something to him that Steve can’t hear, rubbing his back, and after a moment Steve holds his arm out in Robin’s direction, his fingers still tight around the guitar pick. There’s a brief moment before she’s hugging his arm tightly, and he pulls her closer, feeling her press her face into his neck. She’s crying.

The chain of the guitar pick digs into his skin, and Dustin is leaning on his side, over his haphazardly bandaged wounds. (Eddie’s wounds should be bandaged. This isn’t fair.) But he barely feels any of it.

He feels so fucking empty.

—————————

They go to the hospital.

Dustin gets a cast on his leg, and Steve gets fresh, pristine white bandages and antibiotics and painkillers.

Max gets casts on both arms and legs, and her eyes are covered, and she’s silent but breathing. Lucas won’t leave her side. When he tries to, just to get some water, he has a panic attack. Robin holds his hands and talks to him until he can breathe again.

Steve goes home the next day after staying overnight for observation. He doesn’t sleep at all.

He leaves in the morning, after stopping say bye to Lucas and Erica and Max.

His house is empty. There’s plenty of furniture in every room, but it still feels like it echoes, like it’s bare and desolate. He leaves the guitar pick on the counter in the kitchen. Dry blood turns to dust around it when it clatters.

There’s a grandfather clock in the living room. It’s been there his whole life, ticking and ticking and ticking, standing tall in a corner. He never cared about it. Never bothered to notice it.

He stares at it now. There’s still blood in his nails, and his clothes are filthy, stained with dirt and grime and blood and ash, and his throat still hurts.

This clock.

It’s staring at him.

Taunting him.

Ticking in the aching silence of the house.

He doesn’t know how long he stands there, glaring at the clock, listening to it tick, the living room dim because the windows aren’t facing the sun. And then, before his brain can catch up with his body, he’s moving to pry it away from where it stands against the wall, shoving it until it tips over and falls onto its face. The glass shatters, and it dings loudly, and Steve’s heart is pounding as he goes back to the kitchen and snatches his baseball bat from where it’s resting by the door. (Nancy had grabbed it when he dropped it in the Upside Down. He’d wanted to be angry that she had, wanted to forget about it completely, but he likes having it here now.)

The first smash of the bat into the clock is loud, but Steve barely hears it. His vision is blurring suddenly, his eyes hot and stinging as he hits the clock again, and again, and again. The wood splinters and cracks, sending chips flying into the air, just missing his face.

Tears land on the wood. He doesn’t notice. He’s screaming. He doesn’t notice that either.

—————————

“Steven?”

Steve’s eyes flutter open. His room is dark, the curtain drawn to keep the sun out, and his blanket is tight in his hands, drawn to his chin.

“Steven?”

His mother’s voice makes him ache. He stares at the wall as his bed shifts under her weight as she sits beside his body. Her hand is gentle on his side.

“Was there a break-in?”

He shakes his head minutely, just enough for her to notice.

“Are you alright?”

He shakes his head again.

“What happened, dear, talk to me,” she says softly, rubbing his arm, and he sighs heavily.

It’s been too long for him to be feeling like this. The Byers and Mike are back. Max is awake. She can’t see, and she can’t use her legs, but when Steve spoke she smiled, and he could swear it was the like the sun rose again.

Robin’s clothes are still on the floor from the last time she slept over a few days ago. She left wearing Steve’s sweatpants and t-shirt, and Steve hasn’t bothered to clean up.

Steve sits up slowly, tiredly. He hasn’t gotten out of bed in at least a day, but he’s barely slept. Eddie’s vest is by his pillow. It still smells like him, like weed and cigarettes and something masculine and warm.

His father is standing at the end of his bed, watching him with the same shining concern his mother is eyeing him with. He hasn’t seen them in months, but it’s not the longest they’ve gone without seeing each other.

His mom takes his hand. Her hands are always a little cold, soft and smelling like floral lotion. They’re covered in wrinkles. They’ve always looked older than they should, but he’s never minded. He’s always found them lovely. Her ring sparkles even though the sunlight is dim in his room.

“My friend died,” he whispers.

They both exhale.

“The earthquakes?” his mom asks, and he nods, looking down at their hands. She squeezes when his lip quivers.

“Not Robin,” his father says carefully, tentatively, and he shakes his head, taking a hiccuping breath.

“Robin’s fine, it was…”

“You took it out on the clock?”

Steve nods.

“Sorry.”

He isn’t sorry. He can’t bring himself to care.

His mom just rubs his hand gently, squeezing, but he pulls his hand away after a moment, wrapping his arms around himself and curling into a ball.

“I just wanna be alone,” he says weakly.

“Do you?”

He squeezes his eyes shut as they sting, and he’s so fucking sick of crying. The skin of his cheeks is dry from the salt, and he just wants to feel fine again, but it feels like he’ll never feel fine again.

“I don’t know,” he chokes, his arms tightening. “I just want him.”

“Come here, Stevie.”

He falls into her arms, a sob wracking his body, and she holds him, pulling him closer like he’s a baby again. She doesn’t say anything about the vest, or about the ring on his finger, or about the way he cries I just got him, Mommy, it’s not fucking fair.

They never talk about the clock again. His father cleans it up and throws it all away. Steve finds his bat in the corner a few days later, but they don’t say anything about it either.

—————————

Steve goes back to the hospital for a required checkup. Mandatory. He hates it, that he doesn’t have a choice. He supposes he does have a choice, as a twenty-year-old man (that doesn’t really feel like a man at all) that drives himself. But Owens said if he doesn’t go, he’ll go to Steve’s house, and Steve doesn’t want that.

They test his vision and his hearing. Shockingly, miraculously, his vision is more or less okay. They still give him glasses to wear home. He leaves them on his bedside table.

But his hearing isn’t good. In his right ear, it’s okay. But his left ear is almost deaf, which he had noticed before, but he hasn’t really cared. He gets by with it. Steps around people so they’re to his right, watches their mouths form words that he can’t really hear.

They give him a hearing aid. Beige and white, already fitting fine when they give it to him that day. Owens shows him how to use it, how to adjust it, and kindly ignores the way Steve winces and cringes at the feeling of it. It’s uncomfortable. He knows he just has to get used to it.

He goes back to work. Keith let him take some time off after Robin talked to him.

He hates the vest he has to wear, and he hates how bright the store is with the glass doors, and he hates the customers even though he knows they just want distractions from all the bullshit that’s going on. He hates everything. He’s always angry now.

He’s shorter with customers than he wants to be, shorter with Robin than he wants to be. But she gets it. She lets him be angry.

He closes doors harder than he needs to, and on some day he takes his new hearing aid off with a huff because everything is just too much. Too loud, too bright, too close.

It’s slow today, luckily. He’s still angry. And tired.

Robin has some movie on the television above the counter. The volume is low. She’s doodling on a scrap of paper. Steve is staring at the ground. He does that a lot now.

The bell above the door dings happily when the door opens, and Steve blinks, his eyes refocusing before he looks up, finding a man at the front door, taking a flier go the glass carefully. A lot of people do that now, looking for missing pets or trying to sell cars and furniture before they leave town.

It takes Steve a moment to recognize him, and Robin seems to recognize him at the same time, letting out a quiet, “Oh,” as Steve straightens up, watching. He can see Eddie’s face as the sunlight shines through the paper.

“Mr Munson?” he says weakly as he comes out from behind the counter, approaching him slowly, tentatively, eyes trained on the flier.

“I’m not botherin’ anyone,” Mr Munson says gruffly, the sentence familiar and practiced, like he’s said it a million times. “Just a flier.”

“I was with him.”

Mr Munson turns slowly, tape still sticking to his callused fingertips. His eyes are shining, his brows furrowed, and he looks some awful place between scared and angry.

“What?” he asks, his voice low, breathy.

Robin says Steve’s name behind him.

“During the— the earthquake,” he adds carefully, telling Robin that he’s not violating the NDAs.

Mr Munson stares at him. His breathing is shaky.

“What happened to my boy?” he asks gruffly.

Steve’s throat tightens, and he twists the ring around his fingers, blinking his burning eyes hard.

“Can we talk?”

He takes him to the break room.

They sit at the circular table, across from each other, and Steve never realized how small the room was until now. Their knees are almost touching.

“Tell me.”

Steve takes a breath, his fingers twisting.

“He… He saved our friend.”

Mr Munson stares, but he seems to understand it. He seems to know.

“Who?” he asks quietly.

“Dustin… Dustin Henderson. From— From Hellfire.”

He nods, looking at the ground. His hands are shaking. Steve watches.

“He was…” He takes a breath, swallowing, trying to stop his eyes from burning and his heart from pounding. “He was brave. He was a— a hero.” His voice cracks.

“Did he suffer?” Mr Munson asks the floor.

“No,” Steve lies, the blood flashing in his mind, the sound of Eddie’s strained breathing, his furrowed brows and squeezed shut eyes. “It was quick.”

Mr Munson nods.

Steve hesitates, listening to the painful silence before he reaches to the chain around his neck, pulling the guitar pick out from under the collar of his shirt. Mr Munson watches, his expression shifting as he watches it appear. There’s blood on the chain.

Steve holds it out to him, his hand trembling, and he takes it. His eyes catch on the ring.

Mr Munson holds it, looks at the blood, at the way the red of the pick shines even in the mundane, fluorescent light of the break room.

“What about…” He swallows, blinking. “What about the girl? Chrissy? And— And the other boys, they—“

“It wasn’t Eddie,” Steve says sharply before he can stop himself. “Eddie was just… He was just an easy target, he didn’t do anything wrong. He was trying to help Chrissy.”

Wayne stares, eyes flooded with tears.

“They think it was him,” he says weakly. “They all think he hurt them.”

“They don’t know Eddie like we do,” Steve says softly. “Eddie wouldn’t do that.”

Wayne looks away, his lip quivering, nodding.

“He was scared,” Steve says weakly, his throat tight, voice thin. He wants to hide when Wayne looks at him, but he doesn’t. “He ran. It was…”

Wayne nods, wiping his face, smiling a little. He’s quiet for a few moments, gazing at the guitar pick. His hands are shaking, and he’s a little breathless when he speaks again.

“Were you…” He pauses, clearing his voice because his voice is too rough, too wobbly as a tear falls from his eyes. It feels wrong to see him cry, this man with his calluses and sunlight stained skin, with his work clothes and the cigarettes sticking out of his chest pocket. This man that’s gruff and intimidating, reduced to tears. “Were you in love?”

The question makes Steve’s blood run cold, and he doesn’t really know why. He doesn’t ask it rudely, or like he’s upset that Eddie’s ring is on Steve’s finger.

“I think—“ Steve’s voice cuts off. He exhales. “I think we could have been. If we had more time.”

He nods.

“Mr Munson—“

“Wayne. Please.”

“…Wayne,” Steve whispers. Wayne looks at him, eyes oddly soft. “Eddie… Eddie was good.”

Wayne nods, his lips twitching into a smile even though his eyes are glistening with tears.

“He was, wasn’t he?” he says fondly, looking at the guitar pick. “Didn’t deserve any of the shit he got.”

And then he’s crying. Squeezing his eyes shut and leaning over, bringing the pick to his forehead as he shakes silently. Steve wipes his own face, taking a shuddering breath.

“Thank you,” Wayne chokes after a while, eyes trained on the pick.

“I wish I could have…”

Helped him. Saved him. Found him sooner.

Wayne shakes his head.

“You did it all right, kid.”

Steve crumbles.

Wayne is there to pick him up.

He smells like Eddie did, Steve learns when Wayne holds him in his arms. Like cigarettes and leather and whatever lingers in their house. Wayne’s hands are rough but gentle on him, running over his head and back as he cries. Wayne is kind.

“He loved you more than anything, Wayne.”

Wayne just closes his eyes.

Robin looks like she’s been crying when they finally emerge from the break room, and Wayne gives her nod before he leaves, hand still clutching Eddie’s guitar pick.

The flier isn’t on the door when he leaves, and Steve finds it a moment later on the counter, next to Robin’s doodles.

“I thought… I thought maybe you’d like a picture of him.”

Steve stops at the counter, looking down at it. Robin is quiet as he touches the paper, brushes his thumb over the photo of Eddie the way he did when he wiped away his tears as he was dying. He skims the text under it, reads Eddie’s description.

Edward.

He was only 20.

He didn’t even get to graduate this year.

Heat rushes through Steve’s body and he briefly wants to grab the paper in his hand, to crumple it up into a ball or rip it to pieces, but he doesn’t. He knows he’d regret it if he did.

The description mentions the vest that’s in Steve’s room, resting on his pillow. His chest hurts.

Steve swallows, his throat tight, and he turns to Robin, arms open. She wraps her arms around his neck, and he hugs her waist so tightly he almost lifts her into the air.

“I love you, Robbie,” he whispers. He doesn’t know why he says it. But she seems to get it. She always does.

“I love you, too.”

—————————

It’s nice to get away from it all sometimes.

Steve sometimes takes his car out to the quarry, or to the lake, just to watch the water. Or the sky. Just to sit in the silence by himself, twisting Eddie’s ring around his finger. He stays there for hours, until the air is cold and the sky is dim.

He goes to the woods behind Forest Hills, sits on a dead tree and watches the dry leaves blow across the ground. He stares at the green grass and moss, at the mushrooms and flowers and twigs. He doesn’t look up when he hears branches break and leaves rustle. He can’t really be bothered to care.

He knows it’s all over. That Vecna is gone, as are the demodogs and the bats and the vines. It still lingers in his mind when he hears something in the woods around him, that there might be a demodog watching him, quiet, ready to pounce. But he still can’t bring himself to fight back.

Nothing ever attacks him. It’s always a squirrel, or a deer, and once a teenager looking for a place to get high. The world leaves him alone. It lets him rest.

He leaves Hawkins for a day. Just to get out. To see what it’s like.

He goes to Indianapolis. It’s a quiet drive up, the volume of the radio down low. It’s raining out, and the sound of it is nice on the windows and the roof of the car, tapping like it’s asking to come inside, to join him. The swiping of the windshield wipers is calm, consistent and steady, and as he drives, one hand on the wheel, the other lifting a cigarette to his lips, he feels calmer than he’s felt in a while.

He gets a coffee from a cafe and sits at the window, watching people pass in the rain, their umbrellas blurry in the misty window. He takes his hearing aid off. The mug is warm on his hands.

He didn’t bring an umbrella, but he doesn’t mind his hair getting wet.

He walks. And walks. And walks.

He only stops when his eyes find a record store. The sign is big, wood painted with black text and a spiderweb that extends over the building, matching a spiderweb that’s painted on the front door. There’s glowing open sign on the door.

He goes inside. It’s warm, and the music is quiet because he hasn’t put his hearing aid back on. (It’s in the inside pocket of his jacket.) There are more people here than he expected, all looking through stacks of records and tapes and posters.

He explores quietly, avoiding people’s eyes, eyes skimming the records. He sees some that he recognizes, Tears for Fears, Wham!, Duran Duran, and a lot that he doesn’t.

He stops when he finds the metal section. It was unintentional, coming across it, but a part of him wonders if he was looking for it.

He comes closer, stepping past a man with long, straight hair, looking at the row of band names. They’re alphabetical, and he doesn’t know any of them. Some of them sound kind of scary.

DIO

Steve stops, his eyes catching on the name, and he swallows, reaching for it with a shaking hand. He pulls the other records up, moving them out of the way so he can slide a record up, looking at the cover.

THE LAST IN LINE

He lets the other records fall, holding the record to his chest, suddenly protective of it.

He holds it as he looks through the rest of the records, looking for names he recognizes. He stops at Megadeth, recognizing it from a patch on Eddie’s vest, and then Ozzy Osbourne. He can practically hear Eddie’s voice in his head.

Ozzy Osbourne? Black Sabbath? He bit a bat’s head off on stage— No? Doesn’t matter.

Steve blinks at the ceiling, pulling a record out of the crate and adding it to the other two against his chest.

“Hi,” a voice says next to him, on his good side, and he startles, almost fumbling with the records as he turns to look. It’s an employee, smiling at him, friendly. His hair is tied back with a black bandana.

“Hi,” Steve says.

“Do you need help finding anything?” the man asks, speaking slowly like he notices right away that Steve is watching his lips move. Steve hesitates, looking down at the records in his arms.

“Uhm.” He almost says no. But a thought crosses his mind. “I don’t… know what it’s called,” he says, looking back at the man. He’s older than Steve, maybe around Hopper’s age, his eyes hooded and kind. “Something about, uhm— Tennessee waltz?” Steve finishes awkwardly.

“Oh, classic,” the man says, his face lighting up with a smile. “Patti Page, right?”

“I don’t… I don’t know.” Steve shrugs weakly, but the man tosses a hand.

“I’ll find the tape and you can give it a listen,” he says. “See if it’s the right one.”

“Okay,” Steve says softly, nervously. He follows the man across the store, hands shaking, and he sets the records down while he looks for the tape and brings back a Walkman and headphones. He sets the tape up while Steve puts his hearing aid back on.

He seems to notice how Steve is feeling. How anxious he is. How his eyes are burning a little bit. And he tells Steve he’s going to help some others while Steve listens.

Steve leans against the counter, taking a breath and sliding his thumb over Eddie’a ring before he presses play.

It doesn’t sound like anything Eddie would listen to. It’s almost funny.

It’s slow, and soft. The singer’s voice is lilting, shaking in a way that it’s supposed to, not because she’s breathless and bleeding. Steve presses his hands to the counter, steadying himself.

Now I know just how much I have lost…

He squeezes his eyes shut, the store falling silent as he listens, as he holds his breath.

Yes, I lost my little darling on the night they were playing

The beautiful Tennessee Waltz

It was only two more words.

Eddie missed two goddamn words.

Part of Steve wonders if it would have made a difference. If he’d have been less angry if Eddie had managed to get them out, but he knows that it wouldn’t have mattered. He’s still angry. He’s still heartbroken.

The song repeats it all over again, and Steve finally breathes, inhaling slowly, carefully, trying to release the tension in his shoulders.

When it ends, Steve opens his eyes and blearily stops the tape, pulling off the headphones. His vision is blurry with unshed tears, and he blinks them back, looking up at the ceiling. It’s covered with posters.

A hand touches his back gently, and he startles again, turning to find the man again, smiling at him.

“You alright?”

“Yeah,” Steve says quickly, looking away and blinking hard, pinching his nose as he clears his throat. “Uh, can I— can I get this tape?”

“‘Course,” the man says, his hand lingering for a moment before it falls. “Those records too?”

“Yeah, please.”

The man is quiet while Steve pays, while he puts the records and the tape in a paper bag that’s stamped with the spiderweb from the sign outside.

“Thank you,” Steve says softly when he takes the bag. The man smiles.

“Take care.”

Steve goes back to his car. He sets the bag in the passenger seat. And he cries.

It pours as he drives home, the rain loud and shattering as he breathes. The road is slick, shining in the grey evening light, and his vision blurs as he cries again.

He pulls over.

His whole body hurts. It feels like he’s being burned, like every cell in his body is sizzling, drops of water on a hot pan. His tears sting on his cheeks, and his hands are shaking too much for him to wipe them away.

The rain drowns his screams out.

He brings the bag to his room when he gets home, setting them carefully on his bed after kicking aside the clothes on the floor, dropping his jacket to join them. And then he goes downstairs to where his mom is sitting on the sofa, sipping a glass of wine with a magazine in her lap. He wordlessly pushes the magazine aside and she lets him, lifting her arm as he lays on his side, curling up into a ball, making himself as small as possible, his head on her lap.

Her hand is gentle as she combs through his hair. It’s longer now, practically at his shoulders, always falling in his face. He barely ever has the energy to do anything with it.

“It’ll pass,” his mom murmurs softly, combing his hair gently, lovingly. He closes his eyes, shrinking into himself and exhaling. He falls asleep there, listening to her breathe.

—————————

I was dancing

With my darling

To the Tennessee Waltz…

Steve tightens his arms around himself, his eyes squeezing shut tighter. His hands are gripping his blanket, and his fingers are tired, but he doesn’t move. It’s dark in his room, but it can’t be past three in the afternoon. His curtains are drawn. Robin’s clothes are still on the floor.

His ears are sore from his headphones. He’s been replaying the song for hours, over and over and over, and it’s echoing in his head, but he doesn’t stop. He just wants to fall asleep.

He doesn’t move when he hears his door creak open except to open his eyes, watching as Robin navigates the room in the dim light, stepping over clothes and garbage. He’s embarrassed about it, if he’s honest, even though he knows he doesn’t really need to be. She doesn’t mind. She understands.

She climbs into bed in front of him, rolling onto her side and facing him. They stare at each other for a few moments.

Steve wants to cry. He can’t.

Robin reaches up and touches his face, brushing her thumb over his cheek, over his dry skin, soft and gentle. He closes his eyes, exhaling, and she keeps touching him, running her fingertips back and forth over his cheek and down his neck, avoiding the chord of the headphones. It tickles over the scar on his neck. He doesn’t mind.

He opens his eyes after a while. Her eyes are glistening. She nods at the headphones.

He reaches up to take them off, sighing, and she takes them, putting them on and listening. He can hear his own blood rush when they’re off. It’s too quiet without it. He can still hear it playing faintly as Robin listens.

I remember the night and the Tennessee Waltz

Now I know just how much I have lost

Robin takes them off after a moment, a silent question in her eyes, and Steve takes them as she hits pause on the Walkman.

“He was singing it,” he whispers, his voice broken from disuse. “When he died.”

She nods, her lips twisting as she touches his face again, and she leans forward, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth before their foreheads touch. He closes his eyes again, reaching to pull her closer by her waist. Their legs tangle under the blanket, and she pushes her fingers into his hair, untangling it.

“Will you come downstairs?” she whispers after a while.

“I don’t want to,” he says weakly, almost whining. Childish.

“Your parents are worried about you, babe,” she says softly. “You gotta eat.”

“Robin…” he breathes, closing his eyes, his brows furrowing.

“Come on,” she says gently, sitting up, taking his hand even as he whines in protest. “Your mom made soup.”

He lets her drag him from the bed, sighing heavily as they make their way downstairs slowly, fingers linked. His mom is at the sink, washing some dishes, and his father is at the stove, stirring the pot slowly. They both turn to look when Robin and Steve come in, and Steve stops in the doorway, watching as his dad sets the spoon across the pot.

“You okay?” he asks gently, his hand touching Steve’s shoulder. Steve shakes his head tiredly. His dad pulls him into his arms, swaying gently as Steve melts against him.

They haven’t always seen eye to eye in things. On most things. But Steve lets him pull him close, closing his eyes and burying his face in his shoulder.

“You’ll feel better after you eat,” he says, gently pulling Steve to the island, where he sits in a seat heavily, sighing when a bowl of soup in placed in front of him.

He stares at it. At the pale broth, speckled with flakes of seasonings and herbs, at the noodles and pieces of chicken and carrots and celery, at the spoon shining at him. It’s hot, the steam wafting into his face. There’s lemon in it.

“I think I’m gonna be sick,” he mumbles.

His father’s hand pauses as it runs over his back.

“Now?” he says. “Or if you eat?”

“If… If I eat.”

“Why don’t you try just some broth first?” him mom suggests gently. “And then try some more if it’s okay?”

“…Okay.”

She takes the bowl back. He waits as she pours it back in the pot, as she ladles broth into his bowl carefully. He’s vaguely aware that Robin leaves, that she goes upstairs, but he doesn’t really notice, too focussed on the bowl in front of him. On the way his hands shake as he brings the spoon to his lips slowly.

It tastes good. But it also feels muffled, like all of his senses are under water. Like everything has to go through something before it gets to him.

It takes a long time for him to finish the bowl. It’s almost cold by the time he gets to the bottom of it.

He sets his spoon down when he finishes, sliding his bowl away, and his dad pats his back gently.

“You wanna try some more?”

Steve just leans against him, exhaling, and he closes his eyes. He hears the bowl scrape across the counter as his mom takes it, and his dad wraps an arm around him, gently hugging him.

He manages to have a half a bowl of soup, including some of the chickens and some of the vegetables, before he feels sick. He pushes the bowl away wordlessly, grimacing, and his dad pats his back again, murmuring, “That’s alright.”

He sits there for a few more minutes, sipping a glass of water slowly, until Robin comes up behind him, wrapping her arms around his neck gently. He lifts his hands to her forearms, closing his eyes and resting his cheek against her arm. Her skin is cool.

“I miss him,” he breathes.

“I know. It’s gonna be okay.”

He distantly hears his mom’s voice say, “Thank you, Robin,” as Robin takes him back upstairs, their fingers linked again.

He stops short in his doorway, his tired eyes scanning across the room. The floor is clean, the drawers of his dresser shut neatly. His bed is made, Eddie’s vest folded and placed on his pillow, the Walkman and headphones on top of it. His hamper is gone.

“Your clothes are in the wash,” Robin says quietly, squeezing his hand.

He exhales, pulling at her hand, tugging her into a tight hug before he lifts her up, carries her over to the bed, and sets her down, laying on top of her. She hugs him back, shifting to move the Walkman out of the way, and then she gets the vest, carefully setting it over his back as he nuzzles into her chest, closing his eyes, sighing.

He finally falls asleep.

—————————

Nancy comes over after a while. She brings a casserole her mom made, and when Steve’s parents go out for the day, off to support some displaced families, Nancy drags Steve downstairs. For a change of scenery.

She looks nice. Her hair is curly, tied up in a ponytail in the summer heat. (She comments that the air conditioning is nice at Steve’s.) She crosses her legs when they sit on the sofa, looking over at Steve.

He feels like shit.

He hadn’t realized how long it’s been. Time passes differently when he doesn’t open his windows, and when he hasn’t even bothered to call Keith to let him know that he won’t be coming in.

“Steve.”

He blinks, realizing their eyes are locked.

“Yeah, sorry.”

“You’re not eating.”

“Sorry.”

He pokes at the food with his fork. There’s chicken in it. He doesn’t want to eat it.

He takes a small bite anyway, feeling Nancy’s eyes on him.

“You okay?” she asks after a quiet moment.

“…Not really.”

He can see the pain shine in her eyes, but he doesn’t want her to ask, so he interrupts with, “How’s, uhm. How’s Jonathan?”

She nods, taking a bite.

“He’s good. He and Argyle are going to California in a few weeks.”

“Are you still going to Boston?”

“Yeah, just… Term starts in October, so. I have some time.”

He nods. He can feel her pity. He’s pathetic, he knows. She and Jonathan and Argyle are going to college, moving on with their lives, and Steve is here, wearing the same sweater he’s worn for the past week, his hair greasy and flat. He barely cares anymore. But he still feels…

He doesn’t know what. Guilty, maybe.

“How are the kids?” he asks quietly.

“Everyone’s fine, Steve,” she says softly.

“Just… Tell me. Please.”

She’s quiet as he stares at his food. Mostly uneaten.

“Max started physical therapy,” she starts. Her voice is gentle. He thinks it would be a nice voice for story-telling. “She still can’t feel her legs, but she’s getting really good with her arms, she’s getting the hang of pushing the wheels of her wheelchair. El got her some sunglasses, per her request. They’re purple.”

Steve takes a small bite of his food, nodding.

“She misses skating,” Nancy continues. “Erica found some rollerblades and took down a long sidewalk. Jonathan monitored. Max said it was nice to feel the wind in her hair again.”

Steve’s chest hurts, imagining it. Max’s red hair flying in the wind behind her. Her smile. Erica cackling happily. Jonathan watching raptly, just in case.

“Will is good,” Nancy says. “It’s like he can finally rest now. He’s just being a kid again, and it’s… It’s really nice. He and the boys played D&D with Argyle. It was… Well. It was a lot.” He can hear her smile as he speaks, and he half-smiles, softening. Argyle seems like he would enjoy it. “Dustin has a cane. Will painted it for him. Red. Mike said he should get another and paint it like a giant candy cane for Christmas.”

“How’s Mike?”

“Mike is good. …He and El broke up.”

Steve looks up, wide-eyed, and she grins, nodding.

“It’s all fine,” she says. “They’re friends. It seems easier for them now, to be around each other as friends. El keeps making fun of his hair.”

Steve’s lips twitch into another smile.

“Oh.” He pokes at his food again. “Lucas?”

“Good. He convinced Mike to help him practice basketball. It’s funny.”

Steve scoffs in spite of himself, imagining Mike and his gangly arms bouncing around the Sinclairs’ driveway. Complaining, most likely.

“How’s, uhm, Max’s mom? The earthquakes…”

“She wasn’t home,” Nancy says, quickly easing his worry. “She was out, at the, uh, the liquor store. Owens got her a new apartment like he did with— with Wayne. It’s in town,” she says, quickly moving past the mention of Wayne. The mention that makes Steve’s stomach ache. He doesn’t want to eat. “It’s not really… very wheelchair accessible,” she continues. “Argyle helps Max in and out. He usually drives her around anyway, since her wheelchair fits in his van.”

Steve nods. He should be helping Max. He should be driving her around town, taking her and the kids to the arcade, to the roller rink, to the movies, to lunch, to school. Has school even started yet? Probably not, if Argyle and Jonathan are still here. What day is it?

Tears are falling from his eyes before he even notices them flooding, and he drops his head, looking down, covering his face with a hand. He hears Nancy exhale.

“I’m sorry,” he says weakly. “I feel like— like I fucking abandoned all of you, I—”

“You didn’t abandon us, Steve,” Nancy says gently, and Steve feels the sofa shift as she moves closer, her hand touching his arm. “We understand.”

He shakes his head, squeezing his eyes shut. It’s not fair. Dustin was close with Eddie, too. Closer than Steve was. And Wayne— He was practically Wayne’s son. But Steve is the only one like this: shut away from the rest of the world, wrapped in fabric despite it being July (August? He doesn’t even know anymore), ears hot from headphones, fingertips cold because he hasn’t been eating enough. It’s not fair.

“I’m so sorry,” he chokes, and Nancy sighs as she takes his plate. He lets her, hands falling to his lap.

“Steve,” she says firmly. “You haven’t done anything wrong. You’re depressed.”

His body aches. He falls against the back of the sofa, arms wrapping around himself, shivering.

Depressed.

The word feels so grey. Too pale. It’s not dark enough for this, for what Steve is feeling. But he can’t think of a better word for it, for the way he can’t stand the idea of stepping outside, for the way he can barely even remember what it’s like to have enough energy to step into the shower, to cook a meal like he used to. He can barely believe it, the fact that he used to cook and clean and work, like a grown-up. That he used to make meals for himself, pack leftovers for Robin, that he used to drive himself and the others around town, that he used to laugh and banter and tease. That he used to make phone calls when something wasn’t working in the house, that he used to fix his car up, change the oil. He’s so helpless now. He barely eats the food his parents bring him, barely moves enough to keep his muscles from aching every time he shifts. He doubts he’d even be able to carry Max or her wheelchair. The thought makes him cry harder.

“Can I hug you?” Nancy asks.

He nods.

She immediately climbs across the sofa, lifting her arms up to wrap around his neck, pulling him close and exhaling when he relaxes against her. Her hands are gentle, combing through his hair even though it’s unwashed, over his back and shoulders. He closes his eyes, taking stuttering breaths, and even though it’s nice, even though she’s soft and gentle and comforting, this feels wrong. Because he feels so small, so helpless and young, but they’re the same age. He might even be older. He doesn’t know.

And he remembers Barb. How everything changed when she disappeared, how the world turned upside down, and how he didn’t even notice that everything changed for Nancy in a different way. Steve feels guilty for being here, for being at home while Eddie is lying lifeless in hell, and Nancy must have felt the same way. Going home to her family, to her house, to her bed, while wondering where the hell Barb was, wondering if she was scared when she died.

“I’m so sorry,” Steve chokes, his voice broken and weak and whining, muffled by Nancy’s arm. “Nancy, I’m so— I’m so sorry.”

“You don’t have anything to apologize for, Steve,” she says quietly.

“No, Barb, you— you were missing her, and I— I didn’t get it, but—”

She pulls him back sharply, holding his shoulders, and he thinks she’s angry, flinching, but she just looks into his eyes, eyebrows furrowed. Her eyes are gleaming now, shining with tears.

“Don’t do this to yourself.”

His chest clenches, and he blinks tears out of his eyes, focussing on the firm grip of her hands on his shoulders.

“Nance…”

“You haven’t done anything wrong,” she says firmly. “You understand me?”

He closes his eyes, and she holds his face, pressing their foreheads together. He aches. He aches. He aches.

“You’re struggling,” Nancy says softly, and her voice is tense, tight and thin. The very though of her crying makes him sob weakly. “And I’m sorry I left you down there, Steve, that wasn’t— that wasn’t fair.”

He shakes his head, letting out a quiet no, reaching to hold her arms. She’s wearing a t-shirt, the sleeves cuffed cutely, and her skin is warm, soft. Like summertime. He misses the sun.

“You don’t— Don’t apologize, it’s— it’s okay, Nancy, I…”

“I’m sorry,” she whispers anyway. He pulls away, holding her arms, looking at her as best he can even though she’s blurry, swimming in tears.

“Don’t,” he says, chokes. “You— You got Dustin away, that’s what Eddie wanted.”

He hasn’t said his name in a while. It feels foreign in his mouth, but also… oddly familiar. The way it felt to wander the Wheelers’ house in the Upside Down, like he knows it, like he’s at home with it, but like he isn’t supposed to be there. It’s too dark. Lonely. Infested.

Nancy seems to feel it too, and Steve suddenly wonders if the others have talked about it.

About Eddie.

“It’s okay,” he says. Whimpers. She nods, her hands shifting to hold his jaw, cradling his face.

“It’s okay,” she repeats quietly.

They end up tangled together on the sofa, arms and legs wrapped around each other, and it feels somehow easy. Easy as she pets his hair, as he listens to her heartbeat.

“I was thinking,” she says softly after a while, after the tears have dried on their cheeks. “If you aren’t ready to go out yet, we can… we can invite them over here. Robin and Jon and Argyle. For a movie or something.”

He closes his eyes.

“I’d like that.”

“Yeah?”

“I miss them.”

She’s quiet for a moment, her hand pausing in his hair, her cheek pressing to the top of his head.

“We miss you too.”

Like she can tell that he’s not really there.

They come over the next week, while Steve’s parents are gone for dinner with some of their friends. Steve told them they’d be coming, and he felt a little better upon seeing the way their faces lit up, the way they smiled at each other. Like everything was finally getting better.

It might be. Just a little.

Steve finally showers. Puts some product in his hair to help it get back to normal. He changes into clean clothes, shorts that used to be sweatpants and a light sweater that hangs down past his hips, and when he drops his other clothes in his hamper, his dad stops outside his room, knocking lightly and asking if Steve wants him to take it downstairs, to put it in the washer. Like he knows how drained Steve already is.

Jonathan’s the first to show up, oddly enough. Even before Robin.

Steve squints in the sun when he opens the door, glancing past him to look for Argyle, but he isn’t there. It’s just Jonathan.

“Hey,” Jonathan says lightly, looking at Steve, who says the same back, holding the door open for him to come in. Jonathan pauses when he’s inside, after kicking his shoes off, and he doesn’t ask how Steve is like Steve expects. Instead he just turns to him and opens his arms, tilting his head, wordlessly asking permission. Steve just steps into them, hugging him tightly. Jonathan’s arms are firm around him, hands rubbing his back. Steve doesn’t know how long they stand there, just holding each other, swaying slightly, but he doesn’t even want to cry.

When they part, they don’t say anything. Steve just leads him to the living room to look at the selection of movies he has laid out on the coffee table.

Nancy and Robin show up together, and they hug Steve at the same time, his head between theirs, their scents mixing. (Nancy uses strawberry shampoo. Robin uses something vaguely masculine.) And then Robin hooks an arm around Steve’s shoulder, pulling him closer as Nancy moves past them to kiss Jonathan lightly.

Argyle shows up a little later, carrying some pizzas, commenting that they may not be Surfer Boy pizza, but any pizza is good pizza in his book. It’s about the spirit, man. The pizza spirit. He’d been taking Max and Lucas around, following from a respectable distance as Lucas took Max on a date before he took them to Max’s apartment.

“Third wheeling’s not so bad,” he says when he tells them all, arms wrapped around Steve, covering his face almost absentmindedly like he doesn’t even notice that he’s hugging him. Jonathan is watching, an amused grin on his face. “They’re so happy, man. I love love.” And he sighs heavily, laying his head on top of Steve’s.

Steve laughs.

He hasn’t laughed in a long time. Even the thought of laughing felt foreign to him. But he giggles, feeling the weight of Argyle’s head, the secure hold of his arms around his neck, the lingering scent of weed on his arms, mixing with some kind of cologne.

Steve ends up between Argyle and Robin during the movie, his legs tangled with Robin’s, head resting on the back of the sofa. He’s barely watching the movie, nibbling his pizza slowly, quietly. He gets through one and a half slices before it’s too much, and he gives the rest of his second slice to Robin.

When Argyle finishes eating, he wraps an arm around Steve’s shoulders, pulling him close, wordlessly asking if he’s okay. Steve sighs, nuzzling into his shoulder, closing his eyes. It occurs to him that he and Jonathan haven’t even mentioned weed all night, that they haven’t offered any up like they usually do, and he wonders if they all talked about this beforehand. If they discussed the fact that mind-altering substances aren’t a good idea for Steve right now.

Steve’s chest flushes with warmth at the thought. He presses closer to Argyle, reaching over to find Robin’s hand, pulling her closer and lacing their fingers. She squeezes three times. He squeezes back.

He tries to watch the movie. He doesn’t know what’s going on it, hasn’t been following the plot for a while. His chest tightens when he realizes that it feels like something is missing, and that something is Eddie. He pushes down the urge to go get Eddie’s vest, to curl back up against Argyle with the vest hugged to his chest, his face buried in it for the remaining traces of Eddie’s scent. He knows how weird that would be. Robin might be the only one that even knows he still has it.

He touches the ring around his finger, brushing over it with his thumb, pushing it to twist slowly. He hasn’t taken it off. He can’t even feel it anymore, like it’s just part of his finger, like the stone is just a small extension of him. But he knows that if he took it off, it would feel like the world is ending. He’s thought about it, about leaving the ring on his bedside during the day, to get used to Eddie’s absence, but the very thought made his chest tighten and breath shorten, and he wondered if this was how Lucas felt when he had to leave Max at the hospital. And then he was just mad at himself, because that wasn’t fair. To anyone.

Robin squeezes his hand again when she notices him touching the ring. He blinks his eyes, taking a deep breath, nodding.

—————————

It feels weird to drive again.

Weird, but now wrong. He supposes it’s like riding a bike. Everything comes naturally, and he barely thinks twice about anything as he pulls out of his driveway, as he scolds Robin for putting her feet on the dashboard. (He lets her put them on her seat, sitting all curled up as she looks out the window. She can never sit normally, both feet on the ground. So he allows it.)

She’s rocking back and forth as he drives, humming along to the radio.

The sun is shining brightly. It’s hot out, and the car is a little cool from sitting in the garage, but the seats are still warm, sticking to Robin’s thighs as her shorts ride up. There are people outside, loading boxes into cars, barbecuing on grills. Children jumping through sprinklers, laughing and smiling. It all feels surreal, seeing them all living their lives in spite of it all.

“You didn’t tell them I’m coming, did you?” he asks after a while. He glances at Robin to see her grinning.

“Nope.”

“Because why would you.”

“Mhmm.”

His heart is beating fast as he pulls into the Wheelers’ driveway, and he puts the car in park, he takes a deep breath, exhaling shakily, his hands falling to his lap as he leans back. Robin leans over and bumps her forehead against his shoulder fondly.

“They’re gonna be so excited to see you, Stevie,” she says softly. He nods, sighing, blinking his eyes. “You ready?”

“…Yeah.”

Karen opens the door for them. She’s beaming when it swings open, holding a doll that must be Holly’s, and before Steve can even say hello, she’s pulling him into a hug, rocking back and forth.

It’s a good hug. Warm, tight, comforting. She tells him softly how nice it is to see him again. He thanks her for the casserole. She says she’ll cook for him anytime, that if he and his parents ever need anything she’s available. He can feel the doll she’s holding pressing into his shoulder, but he doesn’t mind it.

“The kids are all downstairs,” she says when she finally releases him, reaching to touch Robin’s face lightly, motherly. “They’ll be glad to see you. I’ll keep an ear out for Dustin screaming.”

Steve laughs lightly, nodding. She touches his face, nodding as she looks into his eyes, like she knows. She doesn’t know much, but maybe that thing Steve’s mom’s always said about a mother’s intuition really has something to it. He feels better when he feels her hands on his face, soft and loving, when she looks into his eyes and smiles in a way that says it’s okay even though she doesn’t know the half of it.

Steve heads toward the basement stairs with a heavy sigh, feeling Robin’s hand rub his shoulder.

It’s a little dim downstairs, as usual, and the stairs creak as he descents, but the kids’ voices don’t quiet. Dustin and Will are bickering, Erica is laughing, Lucas is scolding her, Mike is groaning dramatically, El is giggling, Max is commenting dryly. It’s all the same. He makes it to the bottom of the stairs before they notice him, and he manages to take a moment to look at them all. Watching them. Kind of wishing he could just be a fly on the wall, watching them be kids and fuck around, fighting about something stupid and mundane and normal.

Mike notices him first.

“Steve!”

He practically tackles Steve in a hug, gangly arms tight around Steve’s middle, and Steve startles, a grin overtaking his face because Micheal Wheeler is hugging him, hugging him back with a light laugh before the others are joining, all yelling variations of his name. Max pushes herself to sit up straight on the sofa, beaming and turning in his direction, waiting patiently.

“Hi, hi, hi,” Steve says, hugging them all, touching the tops of their heads. Erica has purple beads in her hair now. Eleven’s hair is getting curly again. (Steve likes it like this.) Mike’s hair is even longer, wavy and too dry, hanging over his shoulders. “Hi.”

“God, I missed you,” Dustin says. He pushes Lucas out of the way, bear hugging Steve and tucking his face into his neck. Steve hugs him back, closing his eyes for a moment. It feels surreal, holding him again.

“I missed you, too, man,” he says weakly, tears sparking his eyes. “I’m so sorry.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

He snorts, squeezing his eyes shut before he opens them again, patting Dustin’s back. Dustin lets go, stepping back.

He has Eddie’s bandana tied around his arm. Steve’s gaze lingers on it for a moment before he tears his eyes away, reaching for El and tugging her close, putting his hand in her hair and ruffling her curls as she giggles.

“Look at you,” he says fondly. She swats his hand away, reaching for his hair and tugging the ends of it.

“You need a haircut.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

She giggles again.

Lucas is next, his arms tight as he hugs Steve, swaying a little bit.

“You okay?” he asks quietly before they part, holding Steve’s arms. He’s too fucking tall. Man-sized. But still a kid. His eyes are shining vulnerably, childishly, and Steve wants to scream. He wants to take him back into his arms and hold him until they’re both elderly.

“I will be,” Steve says lightly.

He lifts Erica up when she hugs him, and he’s reminded that she’s even younger, just a little girl. She’s going to be a freshman this year. He thinks. She’s just a baby. He holds her tightly, laughing softly and she complains, “You asshole. I missed you.”

Will holds him for a while. He’s shaking. Steve holds him so tightly it kind of hurts, but neither of them says anything. (His hair is different now too, a little longer, messier. It looks nice on him. More careless.)

“Excuse me,” Max says after a while, her voice loud, sarcastic. “I missed you too, dick.”

“Language,” he scolds lightly, smiling as he sits on the sofa next to her. She faces him when his weight makes the sofa shift, face lit up, eyes wide even though she can’t see him.

“Gimme your face,” she says, holding her hands up. “Gotta make sure you’re still pretty.”

He snorts, taking her hands carefully and lifting them to his face. She grins, touching his face, feeling his cheeks and his jaw, his nose and chin and forehead. He has to close his eyes for a moment so she doesn’t poke them, but he gazes at her while she touches him. Her eyes are cloudy, pale, and unfocussed, but her eyebrows are set, focussed on navigating his face like she’s remembering it. Her freckles are bright, her nose and the tops of her ears red. She’s been out in the sun. Just knowing it makes Steve happy.

He snorts when she tries to stick her finger up his nose, and she gives an evil laugh, reaching to pull him into a hug. The others are all quiet as they embrace, as Steve leans over and pulls her close, closes his eyes and sighs heavily. Her hair smells like El’s.

“I missed you,” she says softly, her arms tightening around him. “Like, a lot.”

“I missed you like a lot, too,” he murmurs.

He sighs when they part, his exhale shaky because he’s containing himself, because he can’t let himself cry in front of them all. They’re all watching him, around the room like he’s about to pull out a picture book and read to them. He ruffles Max’s hair one last time before he looks back at them all.

“So, what’d I miss?”

“Mike and El broke up,” Dustin says loudly, and a laugh bursts from Steve’s chest as El giggles and Mike shoots Dustin a look.

“You are so fucking annoying, you know that?”

“You said he could know.”

“Yeah, but you said it like–”

“Mike and I broke up!” El interrupts excitedly, beaming when Mike rolls his eyes and falls onto his back where he’s sitting cross-legged on the floor. Will laughs, glancing at him.

“I did weed for the first time,” Will says brightly. Steve’s stomach plummets.

“No, you fucking didn’t—”

“No, I’m messing with you. Erica went on a date, though.”

“Wh—” Steve startles, relaxing for a split second before he tenses again. “You just gave me fucking whiplash, what?” He fixes a look on Erica, who’s reaching across a cackling Dustin to smack at Will’s arm. Will giggles, recoiling.

“It wasn’t a date,” she insists.

“You went to the movies and he paid,” Will says sassily.

“Yeah, and?”

“And that makes it…” Will gestures with his hands like he’s conducting a band. “A date.”

“Shut up. Max and Lucas made out.”

“Erica,” Lucas scolds, reaching over to swat at her, his eyes wide.

“Just the facts.”

“Did you walk in on it?” Mike asks, laughing, and Erica nods solemnly.

“Lucas threw a pillow at me.”

“You’re lucky it wasn’t a dictionary. Stay out of my room.”

She just sticks her tongue out at him.

“El got her ears pierced,” Max says brightly, and El sits up on her knees, lighting up, pushing her short curls out of the way so Steve can see. He leans closer, squinting a little bit. The studs are sparkling flowers, tiny blossoms on her earlobes, and she’s grinning widely, happy.

“How was it?” he asks.

“Very uncomfortable.”

“Fair enough.”

They all keep talking. Bickering and bantering and teasing each other, talking over each other’s voices, laughing and telling Steve everything. Catching him up. Reminding him that they’re all growing up. As they talk, Max reaches over and takes his hand, finding it by grabbing his arm and sliding her hand down to his before she squeezes.

They make him stay over for a movie. Robin curls up next to him on the sofa, and Erica lays between them, her head on Steve’s arm that’s around Robin’s shoulders. Max lays on his other side, her legs lifted to rest across Lucas’s lap. He rubs them gently, absentmindedly, as El sits next to him, leaning against his side and sighing.

Mike and Will sit on the floor, side by side. After a while they relax, and their shoulders press, and a part of Steve wonders. Dustin sits on the floor in front of El, who reaches down to play with his hair.

“Where were you?” Max asks quietly as the movie is playing. Steve looks down at her. Her eyes are open, facing the television, and he wonders if she can see the light from it. She’s close enough that no one else hears, and it’s like she just knows that Steve isn’t really watching the movie.

“Home,” he says softly. “In bed, mostly. Not doing much.”

“Did you miss us?” she asks after a moment. His chest tightens. He turns to kiss the top of her head.

“A lot. Yeah.”

She nods, laying on his shoulder.

“Do you feel better?”

“...I’m trying.”

She nods again.

—————————

Steve’s parents leave in August.

They had been meaning to leave in May, down to Floria so they could find a place for their retirement, but they stuck around longer than they planned to because of Steve. They don’t let him feel guilty about it. His dad very firmly reminds him, you’re our son, Steve. No matter what. Through thick and thin. Love and grief. And Steve cries.

They offer to take him with them. They can find him a job there, he can stay with them for as long as he needs to.

But he refuses. Tells them he needs to stay for the kids, for Robin. He can’t leave yet, not until they’re all gone too, until they’re all at college or wherever they decide to go next.

So they leave him the house. And money. They tell him they’ll be home for Christmas, that they’ll call when they arrive at their new house, and if he needs anything, they’ll provide. They both hug him tightly when they leave. They don’t usually have these long, drawn-out goodbyes when they travel, and it’s really no different now (they’ll only be gone a few months), but it feels somehow different now. Like something shifted over the summer, in every dish that he pushed away, every time he crawled onto the sofa and put his head on his mother’s lap, every time he fell against his father and let him catch him. Every time they came in just to sit on the edge of his bed and put a hand on his arm, just to whisper and ask if he feels any better, to pet his hair and kiss his forehead when he doesn’t respond.

The house feels empty when they’re gone. So he calls Robin to come over, and they fall asleep on the sofa after eating leftovers.

She moves in for a while. She’s supposed to stay in the guest room, but she spends most nights in Steve’s, cuddled up against him. She never says anything about the vest.

The kids come over. Max likes being at Steve’s. The hallways are big and empty (especially after he moves the decorative table out of the way), and she can roll her wheelchair down them as fast as she can, laughing and smiling as her hair flies behind her like flames.

Steve spends more time with them, even when he just wants to lay in bed and close his eyes. He leaves his curtains open, forces himself to let sunlight into the room even though it makes his head hurt early in the morning. He discovers that he can still lift Max and her wheelchair, and when Argyle leaves for college with Jonathan, Steve takes over helping Max get home. When the kids start school, he gets up early to take her. Max is in charge of the music.

Robin decides to take a gap year. Steve feels like it might be because of him, because sometimes she worries, on days that he can’t get out of bed, on days that he just sits on the floor with Eddie’s vest and cries, headphones on, on nights that he wakes her up by sobbing in his sleep. She helps him through it all, holding his hand or just being there until he can stand feeling anything again. She makes brownies and brings home cheesy movies to cheer him up, even though it doesn’t always work.

His parents call once a week. Every Thursday evening, before they go to bed, just to check in, see how he’s doing. He knows they worry about him now. He tries not to feel guilty about it.

—————————

They had sandwiches for lunch. Steve made them. Robin praised them, complete with the obnoxious chef’s kiss. She told Steve he makes a lovely housewife. It made him laugh a little.

She knocks her hips into his as she navigates the kitchen, putting away dishes as he washes them. She pauses to push his glasses up his nose when she notices them sliding down. It’s quiet. Sunny. Warm.

Wednesday. It’s hard for Steve to keep track of the days of the week. He’s always asking Robin what day it is, just in case, and she always tells him before commenting that there’s a calendar in the kitchen. (It’s a nice calendar, every day noted with what Steve has to do, drive Max to school, pick Lucas up after basketball practice, drive El over to the Sinclairs’, get groceries. Et cetera. Every day gets marked off with a black marker, and medical appointments are marked in red. They both hate medical appointments. They go together.)

He’s tired today. He’s tired a lot of the time. Even though all he’s done today is take Max to school and make lunch, he feels drained, fatigued. He wants to go lay in bed in the dark, but he won’t. Maybe he’ll fall asleep on the sofa for a while before he goes to pick Max up.

Robin is humming. He doesn’t recognize the song. It might be some new hit from the radio. He doesn’t really listen to the radio anymore.

He listens to the metal records he got in Indy, and to Tennessee Waltz, and that’s about it. He doesn’t listen to Tears for Fears anymore, or Toto. Instead it’s Metallica, and Judas Priest, and Ozzy Osbourne, all of which are truly weird to cry to, but he manages. It’s noisy, loud and heavy and comforting when the inside of his head feels louder than anything. The music shuts him up, and it’s nice. He plays it while he lays in the living room, staring at the ceiling and thinking, while he cleans and cooks and works out, and Robin lets him. She knows when to leave him alone.

He shuts off the water when he finishes with the dishes, sighing and reaching for the towel in Robin’s hands. He snatches it as she reaches for a cup to dry, and she stares at him, impatiently watching him dry his hands, and when he finishes, he tosses it to land on her head, covering her face. He sees her shoulders rise and fall as she sighs heavily.

Before she can say anything, they’re distracted by the sound of tires rolling over the gravel in the driveway. Steve stops short, and Robin pulls the towel off her head, turning a little toward the hallway. It’s unmistakable, the sound of cars pulling into the driveway. Several cars. Not just one, not Ms Henderson or Joyce, but something else.

Anxiety pits in Steve’s stomach, twisting and knotting, and they wordlessly move toward the hallway, slowly, tentatively, like they’re waiting for the door to burst open. The baseball bat is in the hall, and Steve leaves it, aware of where it is. Just in case.

Robin follows close behind, her footsteps quiet on the floor like they’re hiding.

The cars stop when they reach the door, and they both listen to the silence as Steve’s hand hovers over the doorknob before he pulls it open, shivering in the breeze that blows over him.

Black cars. Shiny black cars. Government cars. Bad cars.

Steve’s chest tightens as he steps out so Robin can see, and the door shuts behind them as they watch. He hates that all the windows are tinted.

It’s silent for a moment before a door opens, and Owens steps out. He gives Steve a tight smile, and Steve exhales sharply, already going through every possible thing that could be happening. A gate reopened. Hawkins lab spilled some kind of chemical or something. Steve’s bites are actually going to cause long-term side effects. He hasn’t gotten a code red today. Fuck, are the kids okay? Steve would know if something happened, right? He would notice something? It’s only been a few hours since he saw them outside the high school, since he waved at them all as they waited for Max. Nothing could have happened since then, right?

As he spirals, more cars open, and men in suits step out. They all have guns. Steve hates guns.

His eyes scan the men, watching them all stand up straight, and his eyes catch on Wayne.

Wayne.

Steve blinks, staring at him, looking at Owens, who takes an awkward breath, still smiling that way he’s always smiling, like he doesn’t quite know what to say.

Wayne’s been crying. His eyes are shining, which Steve can see even from this distance (maybe it’s the glasses), and Steve says his name weakly. Did they tell him? Does Steve not have to hide any of it anymore?

Wayne gives Steve an odd smile, like he knows something Steve doesn’t, and he glances away, still standing behind the car’s open door, an arm propped up on it. Steve stares at him, his eyes burning. He hasn’t seen him in months. He’s been too scared to see him, scared that seeing him will send him into a spiral, scared that Wayne would say or do something that would just break Steve. He feels very breakable.

Steve only looks away from Wayne when he hears Robin’s voice say what weakly, brokenly, and he hears the sound of footsteps on gravel.

He freezes.

Eddie.

EddieEddieEddieEddieEddieEddieEddieEddie—

He looks different. His hair is still long, overgrown and curly, and he’s wearing a dark sweater, grey, with black sweatpants, and white sneakers, but there’s something… off. His skin is pale, almost a little grey, but his cheeks and lips are red, like he’s wearing makeup. His hair blows in his face in the wind, and he pushes it back, reaching up. His fingers are… clawed. The ends are dark, like he’s dipped them in ink, like he’s been tattooed. But he’s still Eddie.

Steve can’t hear the car doors shut as Eddie comes closer. He can’t hear the way Robin is stifling gasps, her hand over her face, and he can’t hear the wind rustling the leaves around them. He can’t hear anything. His eyes don’t even hurt in the sunlight anymore. Nothing exists.

Except for Eddie, coming closer. His eyes are wide, still the same, still brown and sparkling and beautiful, looking up at Steve, who’s standing on the top step of the door. Steve looks down at him, hands shaking, breath stilled in his chest, caught in his throat, blood cold and hot at the same time. His vision blurs and unblurs and blurs again, and a tear falls down his cheek. He doesn’t wipe it away.

He’s dreaming. Or hallucinating, or something. He’s been drugged.

There’s no other possibility that doesn’t include everything happening in Steve’s head. He can only hear the rush of his own blood, loud and pulsing, the steady flow of a violent river, and his lungs ache from holding his breath, and it’s not real. It’s taken this long for it to happen, for him to just imagine Eddie, during the waking day, in the sunlight and not in the dark of Steve’s bedroom late at night when he’s drowning in his own tears, but it’s happening. He’s imagining Eddie. And when he disappears, when it sets in that it’s not real, Steve will break.

But Eddie reaches up and wipes Steve’s tear away, because he’s close enough to, and Steve feels it. His thumb is cold, gentle and tender and soft in spite of the claw, and Steve feels the tear slide across his skin, cold in the wind, but it can’t be real, it can’t be real, this can’t really be happening, Eddie is gone, Steve knows it, Eddie died, he heard him stop breathing, and

Eddie’s voice is the same as it was when he died. Soft and quiet and almost nervous as he speaks.

“He didn’t let me in.”

#so anyway #dont know why i did this to myself but i cried several times writing this #i am incapable of writing actual permanant character deaths i assure you #eddies chillin #hes rly not bc hes traumatized beyond repair but he's alive #steve harrington #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington centric #steddie #steddie fanfic #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #robin buckley #robin buckley fanfic #nancy wheeler #nancy wheeler fanfic #stranger things #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction

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stvolanis · 3 months

Note

saw the post about cutesy smut and im thinking like,,, cutesy smut is such a nancy wheeler thing in a coquette way ykwim? im thinking youre both super friendly with each other cause youre practically best friends who are dating each other with tons of quick kisses and soft touches and giggly makeout sessions and really sweet movie cuddles and eating each other out at one of your houses during sleepovers like UGGH 🎀😩

OMG I ABSOLUTELY ADORE THISSS!! I made both reader and Nancy subs in this because I thought that would be a cute idea, hope you don’t mind💕💕

Strawberry kisses

(one-shot)

PAIRINGS: Sub!Nancy Wheeler x Sub!Fem! Reader

WARNINGS: Nancy & reader are basically FWB, foul language, honestly just fluff and cutesy little things

NSFW WARNINGS: cunnilingus, breast play, fingering, making out, praise, scissoring

Nancy Wheeler had to be the prettiest girl you knew.

Her hair, once long, was now short and curly, rested a little above her shoulders. It made her neck look inviting as you watched her click on a necklace with a heart locket on it. The necklace you gifted her about a year ago, a celebratory gift for her 18th birthday. There wasn’t a day after that she didn’t wear it, only removing it when she was going to take a shower or sleep.

You were kids together, girls together, and now you were women together. You’ve been with her for every birthday, every Christmas, and every heartbreak. The most notorious being Steve Harrington; the man you hated since the day you met him. Always an asshole.

You hated him so badly because you knew she deserved better. Someone who could treat her better. Someone like you.

But, nonetheless, you sat and comforted her through it and effectively helped her through the breakup—and only then had she realized just how much she loved you; and not in a friendly way. In a “I want to hold you while we kiss in the rain and then go home and sleep together” kinda way.

She looked beautiful tonight, even in her pajamas she’s had since she was a freshman. Her skin glowing from the moonlight peaking through her blinds, the soft light of her lamps illuminating the room. You sat perched at the head of her bed, watching her with soft eyes as she brushed through her curly hair.

“You look pretty, Nance.” You muttered. She giggled as she looked at you through her mirror. “I’m not even all dressed up.” She smiled. You felt your heart thud against your chest. Your beautiful, beautiful girl.

“Still pretty.” You replied back with a toothy smile. Blush formed across her cheeks as she broke eye contact through the mirror. “Let’s watch a movie.” You huffed out, dragging yourself out of the bed and to her growing collection of comedy movies.

You happily picked up “The Breakfast Club”, a favorite of you and Nancy’s, sliding it into the Tv. Nancy laid down on her bed, gently patting the empty space next to her, an invitation which you took as you slid yourself next to her. Nancy’s hand intertwined with yours and the jewelry on her finger was cold against your skin, but you didn’t mind.

This was how you always dreamed it would be. You and her together, just like this. Content. Happy. She made you happy. You only hoped you did the same for her. You couldn’t think of anything else but her, even as she giggled at the movie on screen, you were focused on her. Always only her.

She was your sun, and you were here moon. Orbiting around her, basking in her golden light. You were in her shadow when it came to social aspects, but it was other people who made you feel that way; never her. She introduced you, always involved you in conversation, always smiled at you to make sure you were okay. The small hand she would rest on your lower back made you feel a sense of peace, knowing she would always be there.

“Are you alright, sweet girl?” She asked as she titled your head up to look at her. You blushed profusely. “Perfect, baby.” You replied with a reassuring smile. You couldn’t help yourself as your lips connected with hers. So soft and plump, it only made you want more.

She giggled into the kiss, making you giggle. Your legs tangled together and your hands roamed her slim body as hers roamed yours. Her manicured nails skimmed across your back, skillfully unclipping your silk bra from under your shirt. She gave a toothy smile as you laid butterfly kisses on her neck; your hands sliding up to cup her cheek softly.

Your knee pressed into her clothed core, and she let out a small whimper when you began rocking her against your knee. Her hands found their way to your breasts, fondling them and gently pinching and pulling your perk nipples, hard from the touch of her hands and sensitive to the touch.

She panted against you when your hand slipped into the waist band of her pajama pants and down her laced underwear. Your finger circled around her clit teasingly, and her hand found it’s way into your panties. You felt so dirty, having her against you like this. The both of your touching each other, the both of your mouths hung agape as soft whines and moans slipped past them.

Two of her fingers slipped into your entrance, and a squelching noise could be heard, making Nancy moan softly. She pumped her slim fingers in you at an even pace, curling her fingers just enough to hit your sensitive spot inside. Each time her fingers rubbed against your g-spot, you felt yourself come closer and closer to your orgasm.

“Need you. Need your pussy, Nance.” You whined against her, she nodded her head. Nancy slipped her fingers from your entrance and your fingers left her bud as she stripped herself of her clothes. You slid your underwear down and took your shirt off.

Nancy laid down as you hovered your core over her face as you came eye level with hers. She was so pretty. A soft pink hue, glistening with her wet slick, and she had a patch of hair just above her pussy. You blew cold air against it, and she whimpered; but regained herself as she gently guided your hips down onto her face.

Her tongue delivered little kitten licks to your opening, slurping up the juices you were leaking. “Mmm, so good, honey.” She groaned against you as she gripped your ass cheek tenderly. You giggled into her pussy before suckling her clit into your mouth. “Such a pretty little cunt f’me, Nance.” You said, releasing her clit with a pop.

She tried to close her legs but you gently held them open with a soft hand. “Don’t be shy, sweetheart.” You said as she bucked her hips upward into your face, making you dive back in and start swirling your tongue on her clit. You felt Nancy’s tongue poke at your entrance, before harshly entering, making you let out a gasp.

Your hand moved up to rub her clit from side to side in a painful pace for your poor wrist, but it had her withering beneath you; her tongue sending vibrations through your gripping cunt. You knew you were close, and your other free hand moved to start fingering her profusely while still harshly rubbing at her throbbing clit.

You could feel her gummy walls gripping around your two fingers beautifully, and you groaned as she sucked them back in each time you left. You curled your fingers into her g-spot, and Nancy squirted all over your fingers with a loud moan against your pussy, yet her lapping at your cunt never let up; if anything, her tongue seemingly sped up.

You forgot the world for a second, how to breathe and even where you where as you reached the orgasm you were on the verge of so vigorously. It was intense, the way your body shook as the feeling in your lower stomach snapped. Nancy held your waist, keeping your pussy still against her face as she let your ride out your orgasm.

Both of you were dripping in juices and her bedroom that usually smelled like strawberry pound cake with a hint of lavender now smelled like sweating bodies and hot sex. As the two of you came down from your high, Nancy gently moved you off of her, gently dragging you up to lay with her.

“Wanna take a bath with me?” She whispered softly as she kissed the side of your head. You hummed in agreement, and got up to go to the restroom. Nancy followed behind you, her soft footsteps echoed down the hall. No one was home but you and her.

Her mother was at the local pool, Mike was with his friends doing god knows what (you both definitely knew what), her dad was out gambling and her little sister was with the babysitter till 11. You didn’t have to hide, or walk on eggshells. The setting almost felt domestic as you watched her start the water, adding a little bit of soap for bubbles the both of you enjoy. Her house smelled of natural, almost woody scent, and her bathroom was no exception.

She submerged herself into the water, and gestured for you to join her with a smile, which you did. The water was warm, almost hot; as that was the way Nancy liked her baths. You’ve complained to her about it before, it’s almost a painful kind of hot but she seemed to enjoy it, so you stopped bothering her about it. Today, she was being considerate of the temperature for you, even going as far as to add your favorite scent into the bath; vanilla.

Her chest was pressed against your back, and your head lulled onto her shoulder as she began to gently massage your body with her lavender body wash. The smell was her, as was everything else. Your senses were consumed with nothing but her, yet you couldn’t find it in yourself to ever even think of complaining about it. The way her pink lofa skimmed over your body, lathering you in soap was the least sexual interaction. Purely out of love and admiration for you.

“I love you, Nancy.” You said as you turned your head, coming into contact with her her pretty blue eyes. She smiled. That smile was enough to make your knees weak, head spinning and heart throbbing in your chest. “I love you too, baby.” She said, delivering the softest peck to your lips.

And you did. You loved her, with every fiber of your being.

don’t be shy, ask to be a part of the tag list and request things!!

TAG LIST: @elvisalltheway101 @epthedream69 @claire-elvisgirl @elvisrealgf @littlehoneyposts @ireallydontcareanymorebrooo @luxuriouslokistan-3 @foxevxid @sapriao @parkbabyj @xiyingly

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tfyoulookingatgiuxs · 4 months

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hola , can i please request a sub!nancy and she’s needy and whiny after a while of being away from R

thank you 🙏🏾

-🧞‍♀️

•Ooooh. my. God. 😜 I like this request!

Take a sweet relax

Sub!Nancy Wheeler x Dom!Reader

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: Needy. Your girlfriend was needy but you couldn't keep up with her, so what could you do? Maybe relaxing wasn't such a bad idea, what do you think?

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: SMUT!!! +18!!! MDNI!! Lesbian sex, fingerings, mommy kink, praise kink, pet names (good girl, pretty girl etc...),degradation (slut, whore etc...), begging, nipple sucking, cunnilings, overstimulation, aftercare, bad language, Dom!fem!reader, slightmean!reader, Sub!Nancy, no use of Y/N.

𝐀/𝐍: Requested by an anonymous person. I had never wasted my hours thinking about a sub!Nancy, so I wasn't sure where to start but, I must say, I don't mind the result! I hope I have satisfied your request, anonymous! Sorry for my english this is not my native language. Please support and reblog. Hope you enjoy! (DIVIDER NOT MINE)

You arrived home tired and destroyed. That Friday afternoon it had sent you to the mental hospital! Too much fucking work! You couldn't stand it anymore...luckily you still held yourself up and with those only strength you managed to enter your apartment. You turned the key in the lock and then opened the door and didn't find your girlfriend in the living room. Maybe she was already in bed? Probably. You thought. It was very late and perhaps it was a good thing that Nancy was in bed at this time.

You made sure not to make too much noise as you placed your jacket on the coat rack. You headed to the bedroom and almost jumped when you saw her. Nancy sitting on the bed without her nightgown and wearing a white lace bra decorated with a few pastel pink bows, she smiled lovingly looking down at you "Welcome back darling" she said while you responded with a simple "Hi".

Nancy knew you would be late today, so you didn't think she was worried "How come you're not sleeping Nance? It's very late" you told her taking off your white shirt "I was waiting for you" she said and you heard the bed springs make a strange noise, now Nancy had gotten up and was behind you, you could feel her breathing on your neck. Her arms wrapped around your waist gently as her trembling fingers traveled from your belly to your breasts "You know I felt very lonely without you" she continued and you felt her cold skin on your back, making you realize she was completely in underwear.

You knew what she wanted. But no. You weren't in the mood "No, Nancy. I'm very tired, I don't think I'm in the mood for sex" You answered and heard Nancy whimper slightly "But work has you too stressed love, maybe some sweet sex can help you relax, what do you say?" She tried to convince you. She was needy, and you knew she would continue like this all night. You snorted. “Nancy, please” your tone was tired and exhausted but her cold fingers on your bra were impossible to miss. You didn't want to, but you weren't doing anything to stop her from groping your tits "Please love, you need it, I need you" she had chosen perhaps the worst time to be needy and as beautiful as she looked in that sexy underwear, your answer was always "No" You took her hands off of you while you put on a white t-shirt with nothing underneath, remaining in your underwear, you didn't even have the strength to put on pants apparently.

Meanwhile, Nancy remained looking at you and sulked and sat back down on the bed offended, while every now and then she whined or muttered something. You closed your eyes for a moment, she knows how much you can't stand these stupid scenes of a needy bitch "Nancy, stop, go to sleep please, tomorrow I promise I'll fuck as you want, okay my love?" You proposed but she let out a grumble before replying with an “Okay” in an annoying tone as she slipped under the covers and turned off the lamp on the nightstand next to the bed.

You didn't want to believe that your girlfriend was serious. She should have understood you and instead she starts mumbling and acting like an offended fucking child! You brought a hand to your forehead, feeling the heat. No. You should have let it go, tomorrow morning she would surely rejoice again when you fucked her good. You headed to the bathroom and washed your face noticing the dark circles under your eyes. You looked at your reflection for a while, as if your face had taken you into oblivion and made you think for at least four minutes straight. Fuck it. You thought as you exited the bathroom with a rather irritated expression.

Your heavy footsteps could well be heard on the wooden floor as you walked back into the bedroom "Hey" You said turning on the light that Nancy had previously turned off and you saw her open her eyes, most likely trying to sleep but failing as soon as she got you you heard "What—" you didn't even give her time to speak before in no time you discovered her, revealing her beautiful body with shiny pink skin. Nancy was taken aback and looked at you with her brown eyes submissive to you. With one hand you took her jaw, forcing her to kiss you, throwing you both headfirst onto the bed, with Nancy under you while you continued kissing her passionately and without stopping. She didn't stop you, in fact she let you do it as her fingers slipped through your hair. The kiss was intense and hungry, you were tired it's true, but thinking about the way Nancy had behaved and the shitty day you'd had, you couldn't help but vent like your girlfriend had advised you to do. You had to relax. And what better way than to ruin your girlfriend? Letting her become a complete mess before your eyes while she would cry and praise. You fucking needed it.

You separated from the kiss while you tried to catch your breath "Damn, can't you even wait for tomorrow? Do you always have to want everything now? You little bitch" You regained your breath while one of your hands groped her breast forcefully making her let out a moan "Please...” is all she could say feeling between your legs how she squeezed her thighs together in excitement “Just as I thought, you can't hold yourself even a fucking minute without mommy can't you, whore?” She nodded and you let out a light laugh "I'm too tired to punish you, so be a good slut and let me fuck you so you don't whine anymore" she nodded again and you pressed your grip on her breasts tighter making her whimper, making her understanding that that wasn't the correct answer "Yes mommy" she corrected herself as she watched your figure move.

You took off her white panties noticing the wet puddle that had been created "Are you already this wet? For two words I said to you? You're pathetic Nance" your words were hard as ice, mean but Nancy didn't care, she loved when you acted that rough, especially in bed making her even more excited. You threw her panties on the floor making her totally wet pussy air, she was fucking beautiful and ready to be destroyed by you "Mommy please" Nancy begged you as her eyes were focused on your hand dangerously close to her pussy "Tell me one more time and I swear I'll leave you like this" you threatened her and she went quiet "Good girl" you praised her sticking two fingers in her needy hole. You didn't waste any time, you didn't want to tease her, so you started moving your fingers in and out repeatedly until Nancy was a mess of whimpers and moans.

“Mommy—ugh” she called out to you as more sighs and moans overwhelmed her, at the sight of your girlfriend totally out of it you showed a smirk on your face feeling that tingle forming under your legs “Show me those tits” You almost whispered getting faster the rhythm. Nancy didn't have to repeat it and with one move she uncovered her breasts showing her hardened nipples "Oh fuck" You exclaimed cursing while your fingers were wet with her juice. You bent down to get your lips to her tits sucking on one “Yes mommy!!—” she said throwing her head back. You licked every inch of her nipple sliding your saliva onto her cold tit “Mommy—I‐ugh!” She tried to speak and failed again. You looked up "Mmhh do you want to come? Do you want mommy to let you cum on her fingers? Do you want that?" Nancy nodded quickly "Yes!" She almost screamed as she was reaching the edge, the sound your fingers made in her pussy was inaudible "So come on you fucking whore, come on my fucking fingers now" you told her and soon Nancy reached her orgasm filling with her cum your fingers “That's my sweet Nancy, well done” you praised her, removing your fingers from her pussy and getting dangerously close to it again.

Nancy, while she was trying to catch her breath, looked at you "Darling..." she said to you in a tired tone "Darling? Mommy hasn't finished with you yet, do you think that after the scene you made I'll leave you like this?" You told her as you placed her legs on your shoulders bringing your lips closer to her pulsating pussy "I'll make you come again and again so you'll stop feeling needy" and so you would. You brought your lips to her clit, stimulating it with your tongue while Nancy gripped your hair. From her clit you moved down to her folds sucking and tasting every nook and cranny of her vagina “Oh fuck—” she cursed.

And so you moved on. It was one in the morning and you were still eating out your girlfriend even after her fourth orgasm "Mommy! Please stop!—" She still begged you as she pulled your hair trying to get you to come off "Come on gets to the fifth darling, you can do it" you told her, letting your tongue go into her hole. Nancy couldn't help but cry and moan louder and louder, surely making herself heard by the neighbors "I-I can't! - ah" she replied and you raised an eyebrow "Yes instead Nance, come on, obey your mommy" at that sentence Nancy relaxed the grip on your hair, letting go and arriving at her fifth orgasm "Yesyesyesyesyes-" and as you wanted, Nancy came again on your face and you moaned between her pussy "Good love, just like that" and you pulled away looking at the state where Nancy was. She was totally destroyed and ruined, the tears had now wet the bed sheets and the mascara that she hadn't taken off that day had all dripped onto her sweet cheeks.

You lay down next to her placing sweet kisses on her shoulder and the same thing on her neck taking care of her "Thank you‐" she managed to say between labored breaths, you smiled giving a light and sweet kiss on her wet cheek. As soon as Nancy fully recovered you looked at her sweet brown eyes "So, now how about we make mommy feel good before going to sleep?" You proposed and she nodded. You took off your now completely wet panties and positioned yourself on top of her with your pussy on her face, letting yourself be carried away by the sweet sensation of pleasure. You couldn't relax any better than this.

#stranger things #nancy wheeler x reader #nancy wheeler imagine #stranger things nancy #nancy wheeler fanfic #nancy wheeler #sub!nancy #nancy wheeler smut #lesbian #lgbtqia #request

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southelroydrive · 8 months

Text

safe from the world.

pairing: nancy wheeler x f!reader summary: you and your girlfriend take a moment to yourselves before the battle against vecna. word count: 1.3k title: intertwined by dodie warnings: none a/n: probably not accurate to the canon timeline, a short draft whilst i painstakingly write this ghostface!ronance au

the world seemed to be at peace that one spring morning. a truly spectacular thing despite everything the town of hawkins had been through in the last few days. but, as nature began its rebirth, you find a rare moment of serenity in the seemingly cursed town.

the wind rustles through the trees, birds chirping their sweet symphony that fills the peaceful quiet that surrounds lover’s lake. morning dew still clings to the grass, glistening in the sunlight as it casts a golden haze over the town. a breeze of the wind swirls around you, brushing against your skin with the soft caress of a lover.

“we’re almost there, i promise.”

her voice, a caress much like the wind. it wraps you in its embrace, soothing the terror that plagues your mind in a time like this. the death and tragedy, the horrors that scar the back of your eyelids as you try to sleep each night, all slipping away with the weight of her hand in yours. you feel the blades of grass tickling your ankles as she guides you along.

a tender smile spreads across your lips, not uncommon in the presence of the girl in front of you. the picturesque display of nature around you fades away, not worthy of your attention when you’re distracted by her curly hair that bounces with every step of her boots against the ground.

in fact, you're so distracted that you don't notice your foot getting caught in a tree root. in a matter of seconds, you let out a panicked yelp that alerts her, head snapping to look back at you and a sharp cry of your name leaving her lips. your eyes screw shut, anticipating the moment your body hits the grass-covered ground but it never comes. instead, her arms wrap around you, your face smacking into her shoulder.

“sweetheart!” she gasps through her laughter, stumbling backwards as your entire body weight slams against her. “be careful!”

“sorry, sorry! it was an accident!” you can’t help but laugh along with her, your cheeks flushing with embarrassment. your hands press against her chest, gently pushing yourself upright. her grip loosens around you, resting lightly on your hips just to be safe.

her chest vibrates with her dying laughter, a soft sigh spilling from her lips as she gazes up at you. her lips curl into an amused smirk, but her eyes still hold the same tenderness they always do as she looks at you. she carefully brushes your hair, smoothing down the frazzled pieces from your stumble.

“come on, before you break a leg.” her loving gaze shimmers with a teasing glint as she pats your cheek, placing a sweet kiss to the tip of your nose before abruptly turning around. her hand slides into yours once more, keeping her grip firm as she gently tugs you along.

“hey!” you whine, lips forming into a pout despite the fact she couldn’t see. but she can practically hear it in your tone, making a smirk tug at your girlfriend’s lips. with another soft tug, you roll your eyes and fall back into a comfortable silence.

it’s not long until you reach the clearing, just as she had promised. the trees wrap around the space, offering you complete privacy from the prying eyes of the town. nobody but you, your lover and the lake, which sparkled with every ripple of the water. the sun gracing the land in its light.

nancy’s hand slowly slips away from yours, fingertips brushing against yours as her feet carry her to the edge of the lake. you watch as she lowers herself to the ground, knees pulled to her chest. she learned a long time ago not to care about the mud staining her skirt, rather a delicate reminder of the time spent with you.

her head turns to look back at you, the tenderness in her eyes never leaving once. fingertips brushing against the grass, an invitation.

you take it.

you walk over, sinking to the ground beside her, your legs stretched out in front of you. she rests her head against you, her rosy cheek warm against your shoulder. like a moth to a flame, her hand finds yours. covering it with hers, the pad of her thumb grazes over your skin.

her touch lingers on the scar that decorates your knuckle, a scar she knows all too well. she could never forget that night, the flickering lights, the beastly screeches and piercing gunshots echoing in her ears. the same night, the same scar that proved that she had broken her promise. she was going to keep you safe, she wasn’t going to let anything hurt you. why did she let it hurt you?

“nance?” your voice is gentle, like the ripple of the water or the breeze, when you call out her name. and in an instant, her worries melt away, tucked neatly into a box for another time. her attention now solely devoted to you, the you that is safe and, most importantly, alive.

head tilting down to look at her in the eyes, your brows are laced together in concern. lips twisted into a small frown, gazing at her with a benevolence that makes her heart warm in her chest. “you okay?”

“now i am.” she whispers, meeting your gaze with her own look of affection. and she means it. with you, the storm that is nancy wheeler’s mind calms, you’re the sun that permeates the grey clouds that form her thoughts.

and when her eyes flicker back down to the scar on your hand that has long healed, she tries to see it as less of her mistake and more of how brave her girl is. a display of how much you had grown in those few years.

a peaceful silence falls over the two of you, and as you sit together in your own safe haven away from all the ugly truths of the town you lived in, you feel at peace.

nancy suddenly shifts, her head lifting off your shoulder and hand leaving yours. you turn, watching with a loving smile as your girlfriend tilts her body to lie down in the grass, her own head resting in your lap. her curls form a halo around her face, your own angel on earth gazing up at you with eyes that hold nothing short of pure love and affection.

your hands quickly find her hair, brushing through the curls you love so much. she rewards you with her soft hums of pleasure, like sweet music to your ears. her eyes shut, dark lashes fluttering.

the tenderness of this moment with the love of your life makes the rest of the world come to a stand still. you knew there was nothing else you would ever want, for all you could ever need was right in front of you. and as that silence washes over you once again, the looming threat of what is to come fades away.

until she breaks it.

“angel?” she murmurs, eyes cracking open to peer up at you. blue eyes filled with uncertainty, causing your own expression to twinge with concern.

“yes, nance?”

“do you… do you think we’ll be okay?”

her words make your movements falter for a moment, your girlfriend’s uncertainty becoming clear to you now. you are both no strangers to the monsters of the upside down, yet you know how much responsibility she feels over how this battle will turn out. you let out a deep sigh, your breath shaky as your free hand finds hers once again.

“we’re gonna be okay, baby. i know it.”

you accompany your words with a squeeze to her hand. and, despite the fact that nancy nods in response, you both know your words aren’t entirely true. there was simply too much that could go wrong to safely say. yet, in this moment, all your worries were better left unsaid. scared that speaking the truth could make it a reality.

“i love you.”

“i love you too.”

because no matter what happens in the next few hours, when you’re forced to fight horrors that will remain unknown to the rest of the world, you know that you have your love. and that’s all that mattered.

#nancy wheeler x fem!reader #nancy wheeler x reader #nancy wheeler fluff #nancy wheeler imagine #nancy wheeler fanfic #nancy wheeler #nancy wheeler x you

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harringtonlovers · 2 months

Text

take me to the edge of heaven (tell me that my soul’s forgiven)

pairing: steve harrington/nancy wheeler

warnings/tags: SMUT (18+), house party setting, steve’s jealous, stancy fwb turned lovers, unprotected p in v, oral sex, happy ending!!

summary: steve’s tired of their friends with benefits deal. nancy just wants to make steve jealous.

word count: ~9k

ao3

Steve was pissed.

He held his drink close to his chest, taking a swig of the ill-tasting beer. His eyes scrunched up, mouth twisted into a sour expression. Steve took one look at the label, PBR, and knew all too well. Bottom-of-the-shelf beer. For a bottom-of-the-shelf party. Anything to feel some ounce of drunk, though.

Taking another sip, he held his composure. Steve's eyes scanned the party, realizing two things.

One, it wasn't a horrible party. At least in everyone else's eyes but his.

In the haze of cigarette smoke, people around his age stumbled around. Drinks in their hands, touching their lips, crashing onto the floor. Groups of people crowded various areas of the house, mainly the living room couches or the outside patio. The music was great, playing his favorite songs from Mötley Crüe to The Police. But, Steve wished they'd stop playing Sweet Dreams. It had been played at least five times. That's what he got for leaving Robin in charge.

His parents were out of town once again, giving him the perfect opportunity to throw a party. It had become a biweekly thing. In fact, all of Hawkins High knew to clear their schedules every Saturday night just to attend his parties. Steve never knew why people seemed so interested. The house smelled like spilled beer and cigarette smoke. It was loud and hot and sweaty, everything deemed horrible to the normal person.

But they were teenagers. All they wanted to do was party.

It also helped that Steve had a huge house. Two stories, the upstairs full of bedrooms for teenagers to screw in. Bathrooms full of toilets to throw up in. The occasional shower to drown out the sounds of sex on the bathroom counters. A big living room full of leather couches and coffee tables to sit on. Steve encouraged coaster usage for the tables.

He had a tv, huge and took up a good amount of space. People often stole the remote to play the raunchiest things they could find. Steve had to explain to his parents once why he had left the channel on a free version of amateur porn. It was embarrassing, but he learned to check the TV before bed. His den held a pool table, as well as an extra table perfect for beer pong. The kitchen remained grand and full of everything needed.

Cups scattered on the counter, mixers, and alcoholic drinks laid out on the island for all to see. People also brought their own things, leaving them on the counter for all to share. Steve appreciated it since buying alcohol was the worst party about these biweekly parties. His pantry remained stacked with snacks for those who for the munchies.

And the patio. The goddamn patio. Open backyard right into the woods. A pool. He had a pool, such a rare luxury in Hawkins, Indiana. Everyone loved it, getting to undress themselves for the world. Swimming under the moonlight, drink or joint in hand, cascading through the soothing water.

Steve loved the patio, except for all of the various smells. Urine, weed, cigarettes, and chlorine. As one would expect, the smells didn't go well together. Steve had found puke in their once. It was hard to explain that one to his parents. He also needed to stay away from the weed, since it diverted him from the agenda. He came to the party to hang out, not to be stabbed with the sudden feeling of jealousy.

Which brought him to his second realization.

Nancy Wheeler looked like a babe, and she wasn't anywhere near interested.

Not that she wasn't interested in Steve. It was more of a mutual understanding. Their relationship was short-lived, full of ice cream dates and losing their virginities to one another. However, it fell flat on their faces when they realized that they enjoyed one another, but it would never work. Nancy was planning on going to Boston for college. Steve would be lucky to get into State.

Thus came the agreement of friends with benefits. They'd sneak into each other's houses, share a quick session and spend the night. The other would be gone by the morning, never speaking of it at school or social settings. It wasn't the most ideal solution, really. They got sex out of it but recently, Steve had wanted more. He found himself staying up afterward, talking to Nancy about what was going on in her life.

She got into Emerson College and recently started babysitting for extra money. Nancy was starting to become interested in scrapbooking, finding it satisfying to place random scraps of paper into a fashionable order. Sometimes she even wrote notes, journaling her thoughts and feelings at the moment. It was an interesting concept, but Steve found it fascinating.

Steve's head started to become filled with Nancy. Her likes and dislikes, the way her hair curled. He looked forward to seeing her at school and talking to her, not just to sneak in a quick make-out session to let off some steam. Getting any chance to speak to her felt like a dream to him. And that's when he realized he had fucked up royally.

He wanted more with Nancy. But she just wanted to remain friends with benefits. Granted, he never asked. But it seemed plausible since Nancy often rolled over after sex at his place and dozed off. Assuming was never Steve's vibe, but he knew if he asked Nancy it would ruin their relationship.

Their weird, fucked up relationship.

Lower back pressed against the kitchen counter, his dark eyes aimed in on Nancy. She looked good. Hell, Nancy always looked amazing. But something about tonight seemed different. She had this natural glow to her, one so attractive it brought in men like a siren call. Steve didn't know if it was the alcohol talking, but she looked beautiful.

He sipped slowly, admiring her every move. Nancy wore her favorite little black dress. The fabric stopped right above the knee, exposing her calves in all their glory. An off-the-shoulder grey sweater hugged her upper half underneath the dress. Classy yet stylish. Perfect for the strange September weather of Indiana.

Billy Hargrove is insufferable. Transferring from the sunny state of California, all the girls fell head over heels. Including Nancy. Steve could see it in her eyes, the way they beamed whenever he made his way down the halls. It didn't help that Billy was a natural at basketball, dominating the court and slowly dethroning Steve as the best player on the team.

Part of the hatred was based on jealousy. The other remained on the fact that Billy draped himself all over Nancy, one hand on her waist while the other held a red solo cup. His face close to hers, whispering sweet nothings in her ears. His smirk brushed up against her cheek.

Nancy fed into it. Her smile was as bright as the sun, batting her eyelashes to attract all of the attention. It worked, clearly, since Steve knew what it was based on.

Nancy's poor attempt to make Steve jealous.

Poor attempt, he thought. Although, he noticed he had been squeezing his cup tighter than before.

The sudden sound of glass breaking diverted his attention for a moment. Steve looked over, seeing that Chrissy Cunningham had broken a vase from the kitchen counter. The boy rolled his eyes, knowing his mother was going to murder him.

His head snapped back to his original view, seeing the worst sight imaginable. Billy planted kisses along Nancy's neck, her head tilted to the side. Eyes closed, lip curled into a grin. In one sudden moment, Nancy's eyes flickered open. They caught sight of Steve's brown eyes. All she could do was grin wider, eyebrows wiggling in amusement.

Steve chugged the rest of his drink. His eyes never left hers, a fire burning deep inside. He had enough. As crazy as he seemed, Steve refused to let Billy get his girl. Nancy belonged to him. All the late nights, in the back of his car with Nancy riding him like a horse. Their impromptu fucks in the janitor's closet, usually Nancy's doing. The flashbacks of their first date, ice cream on her lips, and a sudden brightness in her eyes.

Warmth. Safety. Comfort.

Steve knew what she was doing. And he made it his mission to stop whatever was happening, despite how much of an asshole he was going to be. At the end of the day, it is his party.

And Nancy's his girl.

Pissed off with an empty cup, Steve chucked the piece of plastic into the garbage. Without a care in the world, Steve pushed his way through the crowd. His eyes on the prize, ready to pry Billy's lustful lips off of Nancy's soft neck. He didn't deserve to kiss her neck like that. Only Steve knew how to do it, suckling toward the collarbone. Nancy went wild for that. Every. Single. Time.

As he walked over, Nancy's hand snuck up into Billy's curls. She let her eyes settle again, exaggerating her moans so Steve would hear. Her nails raked Billy's hair, tugging gently to get him to moan. Also, she was completely aware of Steve's presence. He loved his hair being pulled, especially during a heated make-out session. Nancy knew how to play her cards right.

Making his way past another couple, grossed out by their innate ability to hump one another with no worries in the world. With sweaty palms and a creased forehead, Steve cleared his throat. "Nancy?"

Nancy and Billy continued their road to intercourse, Billy's hands gripping her waist. Steve's eyes glanced down and watched, fuming. "Nancy, I need to talk to you."

Billy released his lips from Nancy's neck after hearing her groan. "I'm busy, Harrington," Nancy spoke, words laced in laziness. Her hands rested on Billy's shoulders as her eyes peered up to Steve.

Steve crossed his arms over his chest, Muscles flexed, Nancy imagined his strong arms around her. Holding her up as he fucked her. The pool between her legs began to form, imagining Steve whispering in her ears as they had sex.

"Harrington, what the hell do you want?" Billy barked, his grip tightening around Nancy.

Steve's eyes caught sight of Nancy's neck, noticing bruises forming. With a deep exhale, he relaxed himself. Or attempted to. It didn't help that his eyes caught Nancy's, full of delight. "I need to talk to Nancy. Alone."

"Didn't you hear her?" Billy asked, giving his undivided attention to Steve. "She's busy. With me."

Nancy rolled her eyes, releasing herself from Billy. "I appreciate the backup but I can take care of myself, Billy." The girl turned to face Steve, deadpanned. "What do you want to talk about?"

"In private," Steve said. "Now."

Nancy scoffed, shrugging slightly. "I'm trying to enjoy the party."

"Jesus Christ," Steve mumbled, grabbing onto Nancy's hand. "I'll drop her back off."

He rushed off, dragging Nancy behind him. The girl tugged her arm for a second, eventually giving in to being walked around like a puppy dog. Steve pushed past the crowd, using himself as a shield for Nancy. A few people greeted Steve, a few girls sending winks down the way. It only made Nancy roll her eyes harder than ever.

He could have anyone. But he chose her.

They eventually made their way toward the back hallway of the house. Behind a quiet corner, the music playing in the background. Nancy could barely make out the song, but she knew it was something Madonna. One of her favorites. And she had to miss it because Steve Harrington wanted to have a useless conversation.

With a glare, Nancy broke the silence. "What?"

Steve narrowed his eyes, trying his best to suppress any hints of jealousy. "Are you fucking Billy?"

Silence.

Nancy scoffed, running her hands through her hair. "I can't believe this..." She muttered to herself. "You can't be serious!"

"Dead."

"We aren't exclusive, Steve." Nancy crossed her arms over her chest, bottom lip poking out in a sneer. "You and I made an agreement. Sex. That's all it is! Who cares if I fuck someone else?"

"I care!" Steve admitted, flustered. "I care so goddamn much, Nancy!" Then an idea struck him. "If we're not exclusive, then I can screw whoever I want?"

Nancy tensed up. Her signature pout turned flat, eyes wild and full of confusion. Why the hell would he want to fuck anyone else? Playing with the sleeves of her outfit, Nancy retorted. "And why would you do that?"

The smirk returned to Steve's face. He had struck a nerve. "If you can do it...why can't I?"

"Pfft." Nancy chuckled. "You already have, hm?"

Steve cocked an eyebrow. "I did?"

"Tina's party? You got so drunk you made out with that random girl?" Nancy laughed, masking her jealousy. "You didn't think I'd find out? Or worse...see it with my own eyes?"

"Ahh," Steve busted out laughing. "I see! This is all because you're jealous!"

A blush fell upon Nancy's cheeks. "Excuse me?"

"You're so jealous, Nancy!" Steve held his stomach, aching from laughing so hard. Of course he remembered making out with the random girl. It lasted a total of a minute, resulting in a limp dick and more alcohol. He didn't go home with her. He'd never do that to Nancy. No one made him feel the way Nancy did.

All he knew was that he had no interest in fucking anyone else but Nancy.

"Did you fuck her?" Nancy asked, ignoring the laughter.

Tricky question. He knew exactly what Nancy was referring to. Steve had taken Chrissy Cunningham, Hawkins High princess, out on a handful of dates. It started off as Chrissy asking to study which turned into full-blown make-out sessions paired with random movie dates. They'd talk at school, ending conversations with kisses on the cheeks. Nancy must've caught sight of that.

Hence the jealousy oozing from her body, as well as the unbearable hickeys from Billy. Nancy found Billy to be attractive, but he wasn't number one on her list. In fact, up until right about now, Steve took the cake.

It took Nancy a while to realize everything.

First, the idea of a relationship scared her half to death. Instead of establishing one, Nancy felt it would be easiest to continue down the road of friends with benefits. She enjoyed Steve's company. In fact, he was the only guy ever to make her giddy. Cause the butterflies in her stomach to erupt, flap around, and bump against her beating heart. Steve Harrington, the catch of the town, felt the same.

But the idea of college got in the way. It wasn't that Steve wouldn't be attending college. Nancy just knew of his aspirations, wanting to get out of Hawkins as fast as he could. But she was aware of the potential threat of long distance and just the mere thought of a relationship in general.

How could Steve move off to bigger and better things, leaving Nancy behind for another year in high school? Would he find someone better? What if he never came to visit? What if she got in the way of his life? Anxiety coursed through her veins since day one. But she always wanted to keep Steve in her life.

Even if it meant meeting up late at night to sneak a quick fuck and then return home. Anything to get a chance to see Steve, touch and feel him. Exchanged a few words before allowing her world to be rocked by Steve.

Seeing Steve with Chrissy Cunningham had been the worst sight. She was well aware of their weird relationship. Chrissy had a crush on him for ages, but Nancy caught wind in their math class. Eavesdropping, her specialty, on Chrissy was the worst decision she had made. The strawberry blonde giggled her heart out as she bragged to her friends about Steve.

How great of a kisser, how tender and kind he was. Nancy couldn't help but roll her eyes but it was hard to deny the sting. It burned and itched at Nancy's skin, reminding her that Steve had given his attention to another girl.

One that wasn't her.

Nancy's mind flipped like a switch. She's jealous and angry, ready to take any moment to attack. And she decided to do it at Steve's party. The perfect place to piss him off.

Clearly, it had worked. The two cramped toward the end of the hallway, knowing how easy it would be to escape. Go to the guest bedroom located at the back of the house, away from the party for the rest of the night. Express their anger in animalistic ways: clawing, gnawing, going at one another without a care in the world.

Instead, they would spend the rest of their time together arguing. Arguing over stupid things, such as Chrissy Cunningham and Nancy's inability to be straightforward.

"Who?" Steve asked. "Chrissy?" Nancy rolled her eyes. That was enough of an answer for Steve. "Jesus, Nance."

"What?" Nancy asked, flinging her arms in the air.

"You're jealous," Steve said. "Bedridden with it."

"That's an issue?"

"Yeah?" A scoff. "You're not allowed to be jealous when you ended our relationship. You created this whole...friends with benefits bullshit. Then you go and flaunt Billy in front of me? But I can't go on a few dates?"

Nancy listened, eyes softening the more Steve spoke. She knew she had been in the wrong, using Billy to get a reaction out of Steve. Seeing the brown-eyed boy in front of her only made her feel worse about herself. The fear of rejection and abandonment flashed back into her mind, reminding Nancy of her struggles with Steve.

He's everything she's ever wanted. Yet, Nancy can't bring herself to come face to face with the potential heartbreak. The thought of losing Steve made her ill. Her head spun a bit, a mixture of the alcohol and Steve's words, aching for another shot. "I..." She exhaled, trying to refrain from crying. "I never said you couldn't go on dates, Steve."

Steve placed his hands on his hips, anger surging. His eyes flickered up at the ceiling, collecting his thoughts. Ordering what to say and what not to. He brought his attention back down. However, the minute he looked into those familiar blue eyes, he lost all words. Speechless, tongue in cheek, unable to speak. Steve noticed the glassiness of Nancy's eyes, indicating she was on the verge of tears.

All arguments went out the window. The music seemed to grow quieter, the world pulling into them. Just Steve and Nancy. Alone.

All worries melted away. It became clear how their relationship seemed strong, enough to realize what they had been doing for the past few months. Screwing one another out of true love. The mere thought of Chrissy Cunningham left his mind completely, honing in on Nancy Wheeler.

"Nancy," he whispered, licking his lips for reassurance. "How...How could you think there's anyone else?"

A gulp. "I-I don't know." She shrugged, the tears growing by the second.

Steve didn't waste a second. His hands guided Nancy toward the wall, pressing her back against the cold surface. Nancy shivered for a moment, the sudden contact with the wall and Steve causing her body to melt.

Leg tucked between Nancy's legs, Steve rested his forearms against the wall. He caged Nancy in, chest open to make her comfortable. The last thing he'd want to do is make her feel trapped. If she wanted to leave the situation, all she had to do was push him, and tell him to back off.

Instead, the ends of her lips twitched into a grin. It was subtle, but Steve basked in all its glory. All he ever wanted to do was make her happy, see her smile. A silly need, but whenever she flashed a smirk in his general direction, Steve felt the world shift on its axis. Everything seemed to be right in the world whenever Nancy glowed brighter than usual.

Eyes, piercing and ready to attack. Nancy batted her eyelashes, anxiously awaiting a kiss or two from Steve. Instead, he removed his forearms from the wall, dropping them to her side. Fingers tracing against her exposed skin, lips parted to speak.

A sigh. The space between the two dwindles by the second. Another sigh. Their breaths intertwine with each other's, the two finding it hard to breathe. The bass of the music banged against the wall, causing Nancy and Steve's hearts to skip. Chests touching. A third sigh, exhaling against Steve's lips. "You're crazy," He whispered, the gap turned into a crevice. One so small, so unimportant. Yet, no one made a move.

Not just yet.

"You're crazy to think you're not mine, Wheeler." Steve admitted.

Lips parted, Nancy let out a whimper. She found it difficult to form any sentence. How do you respond to that? Word vomit a love confession or stay silent?

Her mind grew hazy, partly from alcohol and the other from Steve's comment. Gulping, Steve waited for Nancy's answer. However, after a few moments of silence, he started to grow impatient.

The only thing on his mind was Nancy. Kissing her, touching her, pleasing her. Reminding her that she's loved. Trailing kisses all over her body, leaving love bites in the places that belonged to him. Her neck, stomach, hips, inner thighs. All the places he worshipped, needed to have to go on.

One night. All he wanted was one more night.

And within the internal battle, Nancy unraveled.

She sealed the void, engulfing Steve in a passionate kiss. Her hands went straight for his hair, tugging and pulling as hard as she could. Steve reacted quickly, hands landing on her ass and giving her a tender squeeze. He returned the kiss with no hesitation, the immediate moan they shared echoing throughout the desolate hallway.

Their bodies pressed together, hard and eager. Nancy's lips soft as a feather, Steve loving every moment they shared. The memories flooded his mind, reminiscing on all the times they snuck around to share an intimate moment. He had been craving them, wanting to create memory after memory.

Nancy rejoiced, the thought of Steve Harrington ever leaving making her want him more. Hands trailed along his chest, playing with the buttons of his crinkled shirt. Their lips moved in sync, Steve slipping his tongue into her mouth. Nancy gave in, a smile spreading. Steve would do anything to feel that smile any chance he could.

It all made sense. Their short-lived romance, virginities out the window. They belonged together, Nancy knew it too well. There was no doubt in her mind that Steve Harrington belonged to her, and him the same. Nancy beat herself up mentally for even doubting her feelings. She knew. He knew.

They were just too scared to admit anything.

Nancy pulled back first, aching to continue their make-out session. The second she released him, his lips found a new spot to love on. Steve nibbled at her neck, causing the girl to giggle. Music to his ears.

"Steve," Nancy whined, groaning at the touch of his teeth gnawing at her neck.

"Hm?" He continued on her skin, marking her neck with light bruises. His hands explored Nancy's body, wanting her right then and there.

Nancy closed her eyes, concentrating on the pool forming between her legs. Her neck already ached. She made a mental note to wear a turtleneck to school for the next few days. "You want me?"

The question stumped him. Steve removed his lips from her neck, bringing his attention back to her. He centered in on Nancy, giving her the undivided attention she deserved. "What do you mean?"

"Do you want me?" Her eyes full of despair, trembling at the potential negative answer.

His eyes softened, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. Steve let his thumb linger against her cheek, caressing it. Nancy found herself nestling into the palm of his hand, knowing the answer. The familiar smile returned to her face, arching her eyebrows at Steve. "I'll take that as a yes?"

"Hell yeah, Nance." His hands returned to her butt, gripping onto it and hoisting her up.

Nancy squealed, instantly wrapping her legs around his torso. The sound of glass echoed, followed by a few gasps and giggles. However, Steve didn't pay any mind considering he had Nancy Wheeler in his arms. In response to the sound, Steve squeezed her ass before making his way out of the hallway and toward the nearest bedroom.

Nancy rested her head on his shoulder, peppering kisses along his sharp jawline. She left a few bites, not wanting to bruise him just yet. Her lips lingered along his moles, showing extra care to his collarbone. Steve let out a groan, pushing the door open. "Jesus," He whispered, holding Nancy's body against his.

Steve recognized the room. He slammed the door behind him, reaching his arm back to lock it. His eyes flickered around, thanking every God above that it was the guest room. Granted, his bedroom would've been ideal but he settled. At least no one had occupied the room just yet. However, the thought of someone else getting plowed in his room made him cringe a bit.

Shoving the thought past his mind, Steve dropped Nancy onto the bed. She bounced, kicking her shoes off while giggling. "Guest room?"

"Mhm," Steve nodded before settling himself on top of her.

Nancy couldn't help the giggles, pulling him on top of her. The feeling of the soft fabric below her comforted her. She loved the feeling of silk pressed against her exposed skin, especially when Steve lay on top of her.

Steve hesitated for a moment, settling himself. His legs snugged in between Nancy's. His erection grew at a rapid pace, pressing against her inner thigh. "Nancy Wheeler," He breathed out. His brown eyes poured into hers, never wanting to miss a moment.

Nancy returned the gaze, her eyelashes batting against her cheeks. She flushed, growing shy at the intense eye contact. "Steve Harrington." She said.

Silence fell over the two. Comfortable, sweet silence. The kind anyone longs for. Full of lust, love, and warmth. Nancy lifted her hand, tracing her fingers along the fabric of Steve's t-shirt. Her fingers played with the buttons, chest heaving with anticipation.

"You're so beautiful." Steve whispered. "But I'm still pissed off."

Nancy whimpered. Steve grinned.

He knew how to get her.

The gap closed once again, this time Steve took control. A soft gasp escaped Nancy's lips, taken off-guard by the sudden contact. Steve allowed his hands to explore Nancy's body, hiking up the skirt of her dress to expose her lacy thong. His strong hands continued to run up and down Nancy's body, landing on her ass and giving it a hard squeeze.

Nancy felt her body go limp, letting Steve take control over her and her body. "You're...pissed off?"

"Fucking Billy," Steve mumbled against Nancy's fair skin. He began to mark up her body, starting with the neck and making his way down to her chest. Steve knew not to leave a too-noticeable love bite on her neck. Nancy hated having to wear turtlenecks. "Touching you, kissing you." His bites turned vicious, letting a bit of his anger out on her.

"Steve," Nancy whispered, whimpering at the sudden feeling of his teeth against her skin. She reached for his brown locks, intertwining her fingers into the thick strands. Nancy pulled gently.

Steve's teeth took a break, peppering the bruises with kisses. He had bruised her chest pretty well, leaving splotches of purple all along her breasts.

The sound of breaking glass echoed throughout the hallway, causing Nancy to giggle. "The party is getting a little hectic."

"Shut up," Steve mumbled, ripping off his shirt. He leaned back down, towering over Nancy with a smirk.

Nancy looked up into Steve's eyes, arching an eyebrow at him in amusement. He was trying to be rough. Cute. The girl bit down on her bottom lip, allowing him to give him what he wanted. However, Steve was going to have to work for it. "Make me, Harrington." Nancy slithered out of his grip, moving herself along the sheets.

Steve watched as Nancy shimmied her way to the other side of the bed. Of course she had to pick the room with the king bed. Steve rolled his eyes at the sight of Nancy, trying to contain his erection. "What are you doing, hm?"

Nancy giggled, laying herself down. She lifted herself, resting her elbows against the bed to gain access to Steve. Eyebrows pinched, eyes full of woe, and lip curved into a frown. Steve was getting annoyed, and it only made Nancy aroused. "Pissing you off." Nancy cocked a brow, lifting her legs up.

Steve watched in amusement. "Why would you do that?"

Nancy lifted her dress, giving Steve full access to her cunt. The brunette spread her legs, maintaining eye contact the whole time. She couldn't help herself. With the swift motion of her hand, Nancy's palm rested against her core. The girl let out a gentle noise, touching herself lazily.

Steve gulped, eyes shifting from Nancy's face to her pussy. The lacy thong barely covering her was enough to make him go into a spiral. "Nance,"

"Hm?" She perked up, fingers circling her swollen clit. Nancy poked at herself through the thin fabric, biting hard on her lip. "Is there a problem?"

"You're such a tease," Steve confessed. He began to crawl toward her, approaching slowly, like a hunter after his prey.

Nancy narrowed her eyes at Steve, shoving her underwear to the side. The cool air hit her dripping cunt, causing Nancy to seethe. "Oh," She whispered, fingers crawling around her hole. Nancy finally shoved two fingers inside of her, releasing a high-pitched moan.

"Jesus Christ," Steve whispered to himself, watching as Nancy pleasured herself. The mere sight of her exposed pussy made his pants tighten. She had never done this before. Acting so careless about her pussy, exposing it for the world to see. For Steve to see. All for Steve. "Nance, quit teasing."

"Never," She breathed out, pumping her fingers in and out of her. Nancy grew sloppy, lazily dragging her thumb against her clit while her fingers went ham. Eyes beginning to close from the pleasure, Nancy lost sight of Steve. Her back rested down against the bedspread, continuing to please herself. "Oh fuck," She moaned, clenching her legs around her hand.

Steve used the moment of vulnerability to sneak his way in. He quietly brought his hands to her sides, watching as her thighs trembled in pleasure. Steve smirked, watching as Nancy twitched and cried as she touched herself. It was a sight to see, and Steve basked in its glory.

Nancy Wheeler was hot and horny.

All for Steve.

In a quick motion, Steve grabbed ahold of Nancy's thighs. Without giving her a chance to speak, Steve laid his body down on the bed and pushed her core into his mouth. Steve let out an exasperated moan, tongue working overtime.

Nancy gasped for air, feeling the bruises form on her thighs. Steve gripped her skin hard, holding her in place as he ate her out feverishly. The girl felt her chest cave in, finding it hard to breathe as Steve devoured her whole. "Steve! Fuck!" She cried, voice cracking from the intensity.

His tongue lapped against her clit, hands pushing her thighs down hard. Steve had Nancy pinned down, eyes focusing on the way her chest rose and fell in quick intervals. Steve smirked against her clit, watching as she squirmed. "Give it to me, Nance." He said, letting go of one thigh.

Nancy's leg began to tremble after being released from his grip. She tried to level her breathing, but the sudden sensation of two fingers entering her cunt caused her to malfunction. Overstimulation began to kick in, causing her body to shake and convulse. "Steve!"

"Hm?" He asked, humming against her clit. Nancy shuttered at the vibrations against her pussy, eyes screwing shut to focus on her climax. Her hips bucked up, fucking Steve's mouth as best as she could.

Hips riding against his face, Steve carefully inserted another finger. Tongue on the clit, gliding between her folds and licking up any pre-cum, Steve wanted her to finish. The thought of Nancy cumming all over his face was enough to make him finish, but he had to hold on. She had to hold on. Steve needed to fuck her, show her more than just his tongue.

Nancy deserved every ounce of sex he could give.

At that moment, Steve vowed to make this night about Nancy. Show her real pleasure, real love. Give her what she needs, as well as pleasure himself just by watching her. Nancy had a way of controlling Steve, and this night wouldn't be any different.

Nancy's head hit the pillow hard, inhaling sharply. Steve devoured her whole, eating like he hadn't had a meal in years. As if he was just freed, wanting the best meal he could think of. His tongue lapped at her clit, providing her enough attention to release all over his face. The girl could feel her pussy clench around his fingers, an embarrassing blush flashing over her cheeks.

Steve's eyes lingered on Nancy, watching her every move as he ate her out. The way her chest heaved at a fast pace, her thighs trembling. He fucked her hard, making it incredibly difficult for Nancy to not cum. He wanted to open the floodgates and clean her up, show her how much he loved to please her.

"F-Fuck...Fuck, Steve." Nancy purred, her throat aching from the constant moaning and cries. Her chest tightened, making its way down to her stomach. Feeling her climax approaching, Nancy let out a high-pitched scream.

The sound gave Steve the motivation to pick up the pace. Releasing his fingers from her dripping cunt. He made sure to play with her folds for a few seconds—purely to get a reaction out of her—he gave all his attention to Nancy with his tongue. Gnawing, swallowing her pussy whole. Making sure to lap at her clit, as well as brush against her folds.

Nancy felt the slight stumble brushing against her aching core. Reaching for anything and everything, she landed on Steve's locks. She tugged at the roots, indicating her climax was about to hit. "Yes!" She cried out. "Yes, fuck, Steve! Right there! Please, please, please..."

The orgasm hit Nancy like a truck. Her back arched, shoving her pussy in Steve's face. Nancy rode out her high, body twitching and convulsing at the orgasm. It shattered her, leaving her mind cloudy and heart full of lust. A series of different sounds filled the room, mainly soft whimpers and sharp inhales from Nancy.

She missed the feeling of releasing herself. Unraveling for Steve to see. Nancy only enjoyed showing this side of herself with Steve. So vulnerable, so fragile. So hot and lustful.

Steve moaned in bliss at the taste of her cum. He used his tongue to clean Nancy, grinning with a newfound confidence. Pulling away from her cunt, Steve sighed in amazement. The sight was beautiful, breathtaking. The way her core throbbed, Nancy's lips drenched and the little spillage left over. "Nancy Wheeler, you're a masterpiece."

Nancy winced at the sudden contact of his lips on her pussy again. He chuckled, causing Nancy to roll her eyes. Despite how great he fucked her, Steve continued to be a dick. To show her that he's still in charge. She loved it that way, but God, he was going to be the absolute death of her.

Steve peppered kisses against her clit, watching as her body trembled every time. "Someone's jumpy,"

"Shut up," Nancy commanded, sitting up slowly.

Steve kneeled over the bed, looking up at Nancy with a sense of bewilderment. His honey eyes burned into her blue ones, a gentle grin on his pouty lips. Nancy's eyes trailed to his neck, noticing all of the moles and freckles she adored.

Lifting himself, Steve shook his head. He towered over Nancy, slowly lowering himself onto the bed. Crawling toward her, Nancy could sense the animalistic switch in Steve. His eyes, wild and full of lust, never leaving Nancy.

He was hunting her like his prey.

And she loved every minute of it.

"Make me, Wheeler." Steve seethed, bringing his face toward hers.

Nancy batted her eyelashes, trying to put together her thoughts. It seemed like an easy task at hand. However, the way his nose scrunched and mouth twisted into a smirk made her thoughts harder to decipher. He distracted her and brought her to the world of forgetfulness and sex.

Lots of sex.

Their bodies, pumping with adrenaline and lust, pressed against one another's. Steve's hand reached up, combing his fingers through her thick locks. Nancy felt her breath hitch in her throat. Speechless, her eyes bore into his, admiring the slight twinkle.

"You don't wanna go down that route, Steve," Nancy whispered as Steve lowered his face toward her.

His lips curled into a smirk, lips brushing against Nancy's as he spoke. "Oh, I think I do." His hands snaked up to her sides, fingers tracing circles around her waist. "The question is, though..." He paused, eyes glancing up into hers. "Do you want to?"

The question took Nancy by surprise. Of course, she had wanted this. It's the whole reason why they were in this situation in the first place. However, as she stared into his big brown eyes, the question meant something else entirely.

Searching for a response, Steve's forehead leaned against Nancy's. His mind, body, and soul ached for every inch of her. All Steve wanted to do was show her how much he cared for her, worshipped the ground she walked on.

But one word stuck out to him the most.

Love.

Steve was hopelessly in love with Nancy Wheeler. She consumed his mind and controlled his actions and everything he stood for. Nancy inspired him and showed him what it was like to be free and full of life. Nancy was like a breath of fresh air, Steve wanting to take her in like a hit from a cigarette. Inhale her, hold her close. Remind her just how much he cared for her, as well as show her what real love looked like.

It only took him a lousy party and an act of jealousy to realize it.

Now, it was Nancy's turn. Her turn to take her thoughts and shove them to the side, giving in to Steve and allowing him in. Show him how vulnerable she could truly be.

But instead of responding with words, her eyes gave the answer. A slight nod was earned, giving Steve the go. To take their relationship to the next step. To get at least one more night with Nancy and figure out their shitty situation in the morning.

Tonight belonged to them, and Steve was going to make sure it stayed that way.

In a swift motion, Steve pulled off his shirt. He leaned back down, capturing Nancy's lips in a proper kiss. Not too rough but just enough to get Nancy to groan in pleasure. Her lips pressed back, hands reaching up and caressing his warm skin. Nancy's hands slid behind his shoulders and down his back, pulling Steve in as close as she could.

His body rested in between her legs, sighing into Nancy's mouth. He found himself fiddling with her shirt, snaking his hand under her dress. Using both hands, Steve shoved her dress up as far as he could. Enough to expose her flat stomach, pumping up and down as Nancy breathed heavily.

Their lips unlocked, the puzzle falling apart. With a gentle gasp, Nancy couldn't help but shudder as Steve's lips attached to her neck. Kissing all the way down to her collarbone, focusing on her needs before his. "I could kiss you forever, Nancy."

"Please," Nancy begged, her body squirming under his grip.

"No remarks?" Steve looked up with an arched eyebrow. "No witty banter? Just begging?"

"Steve, I swear to Go—"

Steve cut her off with a lazy kiss. His lips lingered before pulling back, the familiar shit-eating grin plastered on his lips. "Just teasing you, Nance." He whispered, his heart thumping against his bare chest. "Let me take care of you."

Nancy's eyes, full of lust and gratitude, stared into Steve's. Speechless, once again. Steve loved to shut her up, in simple ways or others. A wicked grin returned to his lips, Steve anxiously waiting to continue his mission.

Reaching down, his rough fingers trailed her inner thigh. Nancy couldn't help but jump, embarrassed by her actions. Steve let out a soft chuckle, loving how adorable Nancy acted. One minute she was the tough guy, the next she was trembling under his embrace.

Steve's fingers danced across her thigh, crawling up to her panties. Eyes never leaving hers, Steve peeled off Nancy's thong. He dropped it to the side, her pussy on full display.

Nancy felt how sticky she was down there, a mixture of her previous orgasm with her newfound desires for Steve. She inhaled sharply, watching as Steve stood up for a moment and tore off his pants. All that rested on his hips were his boxers, red and black checkered print. Nancy's eyes held onto his bulge, nibbling at her bottom lip as she stared impolitely.

She decided to take control for a second, sitting up. Nancy grabbed ahold of his boxers, shoving them down his hips and letting them hit the floor. She had seen his cock multiple times, and every time it got better and better. The sight of his arousal brought her joy as well as amusement. Anytime she got her hands on his dick was a good day in her head.

"Nance..." He whispered, his eyes lingering on the girl below him. Steve reached down, tilting her chin up to focus on his face.

Nancy's baby blue eyes shined in the darkness, Steve feeling himself engulfed in desire and passion. The two of them, alone, the room filled with love.

Steve was ready.

Nancy was ready.

In a heated moment, the two went for one another. Lips on each other, tongues fighting one another. Hands grabbing onto any piece of skin imaginable, Nancy's moans echoed throughout the room as Steve groaned in response. The kiss made Nancy hungrier for more, emerging herself into Steve and Steve only. Legs spreading ever so slightly, Nancy held Steve close to her.

Steve took the seductive action as a sign, lining up his cock to her core. He teased, dragging his tip along her drenched folds.

Fingers digging deep into his back, Nancy scratched and clawed at Steve. "Steve." She spoke, firmly, and was dedicated to stopping the teasing.

"Shush." He hummed, his dick shoving ever so slightly into her, splitting her in half. Steve's hands came up to grip Nancy's waist, holding her down as he thrust himself into her. "Is this okay?" He asked, his breath tickling her ear.

Nancy's back arched, her body drowning in pleasure as Steve took things to the next level. The warmth of his hands on her hips, pinning her down was enough to send her over the edge. Instead, Nancy lifted her legs to make things easier for the both of them. Lips pressed against her ear, Steve panted softly as he decided to pick up the speed.

"Steve," She cooed, her words wrapped silk, gentle to the touch. Something felt different about their time together. Nancy felt this newfound sense of euphoria, not just arousal. A fire burned in her stomach, twisting and turning and trying to tell her something. But Nancy's thoughts turned cloudy as Steve began to pound into her.

"Nance," He exhaled, his hips pressing harder against hers as Steve continued the steady pace. However, a scratch to his back caused Steve to grunt in satisfaction. "Fuck, you're so beautiful."

Eyes screwed shut, Nancy's claws dug into Steve's back. He pounded, hard and fast, his thrusts deep and with a purpose. Steve's hands moved their way down to her thighs, squeezing the life out of them until they bruised. The whimpers escaping her lips came in a series, some soft and some loud. Steve used all the energy he could to sit them up, Nancy cradling his lap as they continued to fuck.

"Steve!" Nancy whined, Steve's cock disappearing into her. His hands remained on her hips, guiding her as he fucked her. Nancy's head dropped onto his shoulder, her body trembling from the thigh workout. Her breathing, shallow as a pool, huffed and puffed into Steve's ear, causing him to yank at her thighs.

"Nance," Steve spoke, hips bucking at a brutal pace. His strong hands gripped her hard, lifting her up and down on his cock. Steve couldn't help but grunt as Nancy's walls tightened around him. This position had been his favorite, so intimate and up close. Letting Nancy have some control but overall, he fucked her into next Tuesday.

Her breasts bouncing, Nancy plunging onto Steve's dick. Her shaky hands found their way to his hair, pulling at the thick locks in a desperate attempt to answer his call. "Ye...Yes?" She stuttered, trying her best to ride him but it was all becoming unbearable.

The way her walls fluttered around his cock, engulfing his warmth with every thrust. His hands caress the sensitive parts of her body, focusing primarily on her inner thighs. Steve knew how much that made her squirm.

Eyes piercing into hers, Steve pulled Nancy in close. Their bodies pressed against one another's, sweat dripping off of their faces and mixing in with their bodies. The world seemed to slow, turning on its axis ever so slightly. It faded, Steve's focus on Nancy and her the same.

"Nothing," His hand reached up, cupping her face. His thumb stroked her cheek, admiring how red they turned whenever Steve seemed to speak. A wistful smile fell upon his lips as his thrusts slowed. "You're just so goddamn beautiful." He picked up the pace again, cock thick and coated with her cream. "So perfect." Steve croaked, dipping down and leaving kisses along her neck.

"Steve..." Nancy hissed. "Steve, please." Face growing hot, Nancy felt her stomach churn in anticipation.

"Yes, baby?" He asked, nose brushing against the bruises he left along her collarbone. Steve couldn't get enough, planting marks all over her neck. His hands stroked the small of her back, pulling Nancy closer than ever.

"I..." A whine. "I-I'm gonna..." Nancy can't even finish her sentence as her belly twists into a knot. She was approaching her climax, ready to finish all over his throbbing cock.

Steve smirked, his hips beginning to turn erratic. Pounding into her core, Nancy's body turned tingly and bubbly. Her insides turned into mush, and her legs started to tremble in overstimulation. "You're gonna...?" Steve asked, teasing Nancy as usual. He had never felt this way about a girl before. Nancy Wheeler was the girl of his dreams, and he was going to have a hard time letting her go.

As her walls clenched around his cock, Steve groaned.

The sounds of the party died down, the world only revolving around them. The smacking of their hips, Steve's bright brown eyes staring into Nancy's, watching as she unfolded right in front of him.

The orgasm hit Nancy like a ton of bricks. Her head dropped onto his shoulder, sounds of whimpering filling the room. She cries and Steve feels her pooling around his dick. Lifting her head by the chin, Steve rests his forehead against hers. "So good," He whispered, lips parted as he moaned desperately for Nancy.

Once, twice, three more pumps, and Steve was a goner. Eyes screwed shut, his hands bruising Nancy's hips as he reached his climax. "Fuck, Nancy!" He gritted through his teeth, shattering groans leaving his mouth.

Nancy held onto Steve, grip tight but body weak from their actions. The two held onto one another, never wanting to let go. His arms gripped around her shoulders, lifting Nancy up and down at a gentle pace. They embraced one another, Steve planting kisses all over Nancy. Cheeks, forehead, eyelashes, chin, and jawline. Anything he could get his lips on, Steve kissed.

Nancy let out soft giggles, her body continuing to tremble from the intense orgasm she had experienced. Steve's kisses and soft hands made Nancy blush, their intimate act was much more than just a quick session.

Pulling himself out of her, Nancy missed Steve immediately. Her body erupted in goosebumps, the sudden atmosphere coming back to her.

The soft pounding of the bass, the clinking of beer bottles, or glass breaking. Footsteps ran up and down the hallway.

Nancy focused on her breathing, finding the right rhythm. Her eyes glanced into Steve's, a gentle smile on her lips. Steve returned the grin, their noses brushing against each other. Steve wanted to kiss her. Show her that he was in it for the long run. Not just for a quick fuck whenever they needed it.

Nancy hesitated, her dainty fingers reaching out and touching his cheeks. "Steve," She whispered, their lips barely touching.

Steve's hands trailed up to her hair, running his fingers through her strands. He focused his attention on her, needing to hear what she had to say. "Yeah?"

One hand remained in her hair as the other gripped around her wrist, Steve's thumb caressing her fair skin. Nancy let out a soft sigh, her feelings at an all-time high. Romantic thoughts crept into her mind, reminding herself of their short-lived relationship and how much Steve meant to her. How she craved his attention and every move. How her mind was so consumed by him, that Nancy couldn't imagine her life without him.

It was all so clear.

"I love you." She breathed out, finally admitting her true feelings. It took a lot out of her, the vulnerability of it all. Nancy had now opened more than just her legs. Her heart was out in the open, just in reach for Steve to grab. Hold onto it and cherish it. Teach her heart how to love, as well as show her a good time whenever she needs it most. "I love you, Steve Harrington." She nodded, sure of her feelings.

It was Steve's turn to fall speechless. His cheeks flushed, showing off his best blush for Nancy. Steve tried to hide it, but the look on his face said it all. A deep smile, teeth showing and all. "I know." His smile turned into a smirk before pressing his lips to her.

"What the he—" Nancy's words came to a halt, once again, by Steve and his irresistible lips. Steve's fingers curled into her strands, pulling Nancy in close by the neck. Their kiss turned affectionate, Nancy's cheeks heating up. They melted into one another, their bodies fitting together like a pair of puzzle pieces.

Steve pulled back for a moment, lips hovering over Nancy's. "I love you too, Wheeler. I think I have for a while."

"Well, what can I say?" Her hands snuck around his neck, arms draping. "I'm irresistible."

"Tell me about it." Steve kissed her gently, pulling Nancy into another kiss. Her lips tugged into a smile, giggling against his soft smile.

Steve lifted Nancy in the air, earning a warm laugh from her. He returned the chuckle, dropping her onto the bed and falling on top of her. The electricity between the two returned, Steve's hands exploring her body as Nancy whimpered under his embrace.

They went all night, with nothing but sweet emotions and sounds filling the room. Different positions, angles, and gentle praises. The guest room belonged to them, the party drowning out in the background. They couldn't hear the sound of the front door slamming shut, indicating people leaving during the night. Instead, the hum of their hearts pounding and full of warmth, Steve and Nancy fell into a loving haze.

Their relationship, slightly confusing yet perfectly sane, seemed to be the missing pieces in their lives. Nancy, terrified to let anyone in, found herself giving in to Steve. Knowing he was going to take care of her and show her true love and affection. Yet, despite her anxieties, Steve calmed her down in unimaginable ways. All he had to do was look at her and everything seemed to fall into place. Reminding her that everything was going to be okay, despite the complications heading their way.

But Nancy shoved the thoughts into the garbage, focusing in on the now. Steve Harrington was her past, present, and future. And he felt the same about her. And she wasn't going to trade that for the world, despite how rocky their relationship started.

Nancy was sure of herself, finally. Steve knew from the get-go but was too clouded with jealousy to truly understand his feelings. All he needed was a quiet corner of a party to realize what he needed. He needed Nancy more than anything in the world.

The soft sounds of Wham! played in the background as Nancy and Steve found themselves falling asleep, embracing one another in a naked position. Nancy's eyelashes flushed against Steve's chest, eyes heavy and ready to pass out. Steve's hand stroked the small of Nancy's back, the silence comforting to the both of them. His lips lingered against her forehead, signaling Nancy to go to bed.

Take me to the edge of heaven,

Tell me that my soul's forgiven.

Nancy and Steve looked up at one another, laughter from the both of them. All the problems and issues in their lives and the world seemed to melt away just by listening to the song for a moment. As long as they were with each other, everything would be okay.

Even if it took them a second or two to figure it out.

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ashwhowrites · 1 year

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ric idea:

nancy has fallen in love with her ex boyfriend’s sister and she doesn’t know what to do. she’s scared, she’s confused, and she talks to steve because they’re friends now and she wants him to know that the breakup was never his fault, she couldn’t love him that way because she literally couldn’t love him that way. she’s gay. and definitely in love with his sister.

- 🦋

I LOVE NANCY, THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR REQUESTING HER

Steve is a sweetheart and everyone is happy

Not proofread

Nancy Wheeler and Steve Harrington were always the talk of the town. Their relationship had a spotlight and eyes watching everywhere. Then she broke his heart, spilling the truth that she felt as if their love wasn't real love. She didn't feel the things she was supposed to. She didn't feel the things Steve felt for her.

In a selfish way, she thought maybe Steve was the problem, maybe she just can't love him. But then Nancy faced the same problem with Jonathan. Every kiss made her cold, her stomach turn, and her heart racing with anxiety. This isn't what love was supposed to feel like.

Nancy Wheeler wasn't capable of love, and with her parents, it seemed to run in the family.

Steve had an older sister, she moved out at eighteen and moved as far away from her parents as she could. She offered a place for Steve to crash whenever he needed, even though she was far, their relationship was close.

She didn't come home a lot, so when she first met the one and only Nancy, she understood why Steve was still chasing this girl. Nancy Wheeler was gorgeous. Her dark curly hair, beautiful bright eyes, and pink lips.

Steve called many nights about his heartbreak over Nancy, and Y/N felt guilty for finding herself wanting to know Nancy more. But she couldn't forget that this was the girl who broke her brother's heart.

"Nance, this is Y/N, my older sister, Y/N this is Nance," Steve introduced the two. A smirk formed on his face as Nancy blinked and didn't move an inch.

"Nice to meet you," Y/N said politely, moving her hand forward to grasp Nancy's soft hand in hers. Ignoring the way Nancy's touch erupted butterflies in her stomach.

Nancy had no idea why she was stuck frozen to the video store's floor. Her feet couldn't move, her hand was in Y/N's grip and she didn't want to let go. Nancy's heart was beating fast, some type of fluttering in her stomach, and her tongue refused to make words.

And to Nancy's fear, that's how she felt every time she was in Y/N's presence.

~~~

Y/N has been around Hawkins for a month, she grew close to Robin, met the famous Dustin, and a new guy named Eddie. She never heard much about him but he was an interesting character.

Y/N found herself in a rant with Robin, both girls oblivious to the people around them.

"Alright King Steve, think I got a shot?" Eddie smirked, nudging Steve's arm as he looked Y/N up and down. Nancy's ears perked up, finding herself moving closer to Steve and Eddie. A weird feeling in her stomach.

"Not a chance, Munson." Steve scoffed, laughing at Eddie's offended expression. Nancy wasn't sure why, but she felt a small amount of relief that Steve found Eddie and Y/N hilarious.

"Oh come on, no amount of charm? What if she wasn't your sister?" Eddie tried

"Munson, even if she wasn't my sister, she'd still be gay," Steve smirked, watching as Eddie's face morphed into surprise.

Nancy also did not understand why hearing that Y/N Harrigton was into girls made her face flush and her palms sweat.

"Oh great, so Buckley gets her," Eddie groaned, walking away.

Nancy felt her blood grow hot, her eyes locked on Y/N and Robin's body language. Were they flirting? Fuck, did Robin like her?

Wait....why did Nancy care?

~~~

Nancy spent the past week tossing and turning every night. Her brain was trying to figure out these different types of feelings she has been dealing with.

With sleep out of the question, Nancy got dressed in warm clothes and decided to take a trip to a diner. Journal and keys in hand, she started her car.

The diner was dead, just as she expected it to be so late at night. With a sigh, she took a seat in the back booth. An older lady asked her what she'd like. She put in her order and began to write. Writing out every thought, writing out every emotion she has been feeling. Everything that made her confused.

"Seems like you are in love," Y/N's voice came from behind her. Nancy felt her blood go cold and her body froze.

Nancy quickly slammed her journal shut, turning around with a sharp glare.

"Privacy, much?" Nancy scoffed, turning back around. Y/N just read all the different ways she made Nancy feel. Nancy felt like she could die in embarrassment.

"You're right, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have read over your shoulder/" Y/N apologized, shaking her head at her own rude behavior.

Y/N stared at the back of Nancy's curls, the words on the page still fresh in Y/N's mind.

"Why do you think I'm in love?" Nancy asked, looking over her shoulder at the girl. She looked beautiful, also dressed in sweats. Nancy assumed she must have been struggling to sleep as well.

"Well," Y/N started, walking towards the other side of the booth and taking a seat across from Nancy. "I believe you are in love because you sound so scared of what you don't understand. Feeling different things, things you thought you would have felt with someone else, I'm guessing what you wished you felt for Steve?" Y/N asked

It wasn't what she wished she felt for Steve, it was what she should have felt for Steve, and for Jonathan.

"I don't think I could love him in that kind of way," Nancy admitted.

"Well, whoever you wrote about, you can love in that kind of way, because you clearly do." Y/N smiled, offering her hand. Nancy felt her palms grow sweaty, wiping her hands on her pants before holding Y/N's hand.

Y/N was right, Nancy was in love....with Steve's fucking sister.

~~~

It's been a week since that night Nancy held Y/N's hand in the diner booth. Nancy understood her feelings and that made it worse. Because now she wants Y/N more than anything. Nancy felt like there had to be a rule to not date your ex's sibling and the way she broke Steve's heart, she cannot imagine him ever being okay with this.

But Steve took Nancy for a spin. A smirk on his face as he walked over to Nancy as she searched through the romantic section of the store.

"A little birdie told me you were in love," Steve teased, poking his fingers into Nancy's sides.

"I am not!" Nancy argued, laughing as her sides tickled from Steve's touch.

"Oh stop it, it is so obvious. You have that look in your eyes, a look you never had for me. But you had it for her the second you met her." Steve spoke softly, he wasn't upset at all. He moved on from Nancy months ago, he understood he just wasn't the one she loved.

"Steve, I'm so sorry. I don't know how or why, and I didn't plan to .."She cut herself off, was she really going to admit she was in love with her ex's sister to his face?

"Didn't plan to fall in love with my sister? It's okay to admit it, Nance." Steve answered for her.

"I've been trying to figure out why we couldn't work, and it's me. I couldn't love you, Steve, because I couldn't love you. I couldn't love Jonathan. I was scared that I just couldn't feel love, but I think I was trying to find it in the wrong place." Nancy admitted.

"I forgive you, and I appreciate your apology. You are not a bad person Nance, you just had to find yourself. This whole town predicted you would become a Harrington, no one said it had to be because of me." Steve said with a wink, nudging Nancy towards Y/N as she walked through the door.

"She hates romance, try comedy," Steve offered his advice, pushing her right into Y/N's arms.

Steve watched with a smile as the girls blushed and laughed.

"I hate to say it, but you are a fucking good guy, Harrington," Robin said with a sigh, throwing her arm over Steve's shoulder.

"I'll find my girl someday, it's time Nancy found hers."

#nancy wheeler fic #nancy wheeler x reader #nancy wheeler fanfic #nancy wheeler stranger things #nancy wheeler angst x female reader #nancy wheeler angst #nancy wheeler fluff x reader #nancy wheeler fluff #nancy wheeler x female reader #nancy wheeler angst x reader #nancy wheeler fluff x female reader #nancy wheeler x female y/n #ashwhowrites

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aylasology · 6 months

Text

Robin is "babygirl" girlfriend

Nancy is "babydoll" girlfriend

There will be no further explanation.

#robin buckley #robin buckley stranger things #robin buckley x reader #stranger things #robin buckley fanfiction #robin buckley x fem!reader #aylasology #aylasology4robinbuckley!#nancy wheeler #nancy wheeler x reader #nancy wheeler stranger things #aylasology4nancywheeler!#nancy wheeler fanfic

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milkiangl · 1 year

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hiii could you write fem ready x nancy wheeler where reader and nance are dating and they are the ones going to talk to the victor at pennhurst and nancy does readers makeup or something with the outfit they have to wear before they go ? that sounds confusing so if it is you can change it up as much as you want !😭

pairing: nancy wheeler x fem!reader.

warning: pure fluff, kissing, established relationship, allusions to sexual situation, nancy is a straight up tease, feminine nicknames.

note: this is so sickly sweet i’m actually growing a cavity ( bad pun m’sorry.. ) but anyways!! missing my girl so much and i’ve been really craving writing something super fluffy so why not wack out two birds with one stone?? ♥︎

“Quit being a brat and sit still.”

You huffed in obedience, seizing your prior swiveling upon Nancy’s lap as she continued her present task of cushioning one of her makeup brushes— packed with a rosy powdered blush—against your delicate cheekbones.

Both of your legs were thrown on opposite sides of Nancy’s thighs, caging them between yours whilst your knees dug into the soft bedding of her comforter.

Her tongue lolls out of the corner of her mouth in concentration, applying some finishing touches to your fragile eyelids that were decorated in soft hues of eyeshadow.

Humming in completion, her crystal azure irises leisurely traveling up and down the extent of your figure, giving you a final once over that has you wiggling under the heating surveillance of her stare once more.

Her signature grin takes over her features, watching you as she reaches for her aged hand mirror. “Wanna see, sweetheart?”

Nodding timidly, she flips the object around so you were met with your reflection gazing back at you.

“Pretty, huh, baby?” Nancy tilts her head slightly, examining the way you immediately become flustered; your bashful gaze shifting down to fidget with the hem of her dress that resembles the one she dressed you in. “No need to get all shy on me. Prettiest girl I’ve ever seen, isn’t that right, honey? Say it for me.”

Her thumb and index finger grasp your chin delicately, lifting your head to meet her eyes that has your whole body warming from confronting her praises. Deciding to finally humor her once you spotted the way her eyebrow began inch up impatiently. You meekly responded, “M’your pretty girl.”

Nancy’s lips pull into a satisfied smile, revealing her pearly white canines in full. “That’s right. My pretty girl,” Leaving an unhurried peck on your moisturized top lip, her tongue peaked out to drag across the flesh agilely; tasting coated shimmery lipgloss prior to capturing your eager mouth with her own.

Your incoherent whines and mewls only provoked her actions further, indifferently smearing your freshly finished makeup whilst your bunched skirt rid up your bare thighs increasingly.

Breaking apart, erratic breath decelerating, Nancy’s mouth broke out into another smirk; leaning in to tenderly nibble at the skin of your earlobe. Taking it between her teeth and tugging slightly, her raspy voice fell just below a whisper. “So smart too.”

♥︎ — taglist. @amourrs @bobfloydsgf @alexxavicry @sqpphos @oncasette @fxllfaiiry

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robinsno1lesbian · 1 year

Text

𝐘𝐎𝐔'𝐑𝐄 𝐒𝐎 𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐃𝐄𝐂𝐎 - 𝐍.𝐖.

older!nancy wheeler x babysitter!fem!reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: babysitting for nancy wheeler means getting fucked by her as a reward.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 5261

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 18+ mature content! (MDNI), implied age gap (reader is 18+!!), idk if that needs a warning but reader gets insecure for a second, mention of oral sex, fingering, finger sucking, praise kink, dirty talk, mommy kink, strap-ons, not proofread (very rushed ending because i just wanted to finish it lmao)

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: happy (belated) mother's day to our favorite milf! 💋

her eyes aren't just blue. they also hold a spark of grey in the inner part of their pupils.

this was the first thing you noticed when she let you inside through her apartment door.

she works a lot, needs someone to look after her child occasionally, she'd explained to you with a tight-lipped smile.

her lips had been a light shade of pink, matching the blush she must've applied before -because, truth be told, there is no way her cheeks are such a sweet pink naturally.

somehow you had been a lot less nervous than you had expected that day. you were applying for a job, this should be a lot more stressful, shouldn't it?

you should be rocking back and forth or biting your lower lip -a nervous habit you picked up on somewhen through highschool.

yet her presence had eased your normally anxious way of being.

perhaps it had been her sweet scent that lingered all over her apartment, or the way she held your hand just a little bit longer than she should've when you first greeted her.

or it might have been that little bit of grey in her ocean-blue eyes.

you can see it right now too, though it is much harder to recognize when her eyes are tired and her eyelids are fighting with all of their strength to remain open.

it's hard to believe that months have passed since the first time you met her. when there seemed to be nothing of greater importance than the color of her eyes.

looking back at all these weeks, you can't remember when or how things changed.

was it when you noticed her loneliness? when you left the apartment only for the thought of her following you for hours? when you realized that, even though she was probably in need of somebody, no one ever came?

for some reason, your pity turned into a strange longing.

perhaps because you were well aware that you could be that somebody.

perhaps because you wanted that more than anything.

and yet, none of it explains how things have gotten this far...

you promised each other that it didn't mean anything after it had first happened. an accident. something that would never happen again.

sweet little lies, told in the shameful rush of getting dressed again after you had spent hours in her bed.

that was the first mistake you made. but it was nothing but that, a simple mistake.

"we can not do this again" nancy had said, back turned to you. "she likes you...i like you. we can't- i can't afford ruining this"

of course you knew that already, of course you knew you shouldn't do this again. so you crawled over to her on the bed, a hand to her back to rub her skin to offer some sense of comfort.

nothing but an innocent touch.

one second it was that and the next it was nancy underneath you. it was her moaning your name right into your ear. you holding her while you made love to her slowly until she came around your fingers with that beautiful arch of her back.

it was nancy coming, again and again and again.

nothing stayed the same after that.

your eyes would always somehow find the other pair and you would always tell each other that this was the last time until eventually you just...stopped.

maybe she'd grown tired of the lies too and you weren't the only one who couldn't stand to hear it anymore. maybe she was just repeating them in her head, too scared to say them out loud.

either way, it was like a weight had been lifted from both of your bodies.

somehow there was no shame in the way you touched once you stopped apologizing for it.

her lips on yours became something that felt almost natural to you, like it had always been meant to be.

she gained some confidence in the way she touched you too. suddenly you found yourself on your back a lot more often, her kisses heated and wanting as she runs her mouth all over her body.

because, god, nancy herself has never known this kind of want before.

she didn't even think it was possible to feel this attracted to another.

that's until, well, you.

until she learned how to love you, how to make you moan and cry in pleasure.

after all those months, there is almost a routine in the way you do it.

you're nothing but the babysitter whenever you come around. never look at her for too long, no touching, not a word about any feelings around the baby.

not until you're behind shut doors.

it's like this all the time by now.

you're holding her daughter with one arm, the child propped on your hip while you finish cleaning the tabletop, crumbles of your own dinner, and bits of the baby food still left on the surface.

you look up to find nancy in the doorway and the baby squeals in your arms.

she resembles her mother perfectly; the same brown curls, and the exact same nose. only the eyes are different.

you've often wondered what her father might look like. he must've had brown eyes, that much you know by looking at the little one's face.

"oh look who's home" you smile at the child and take her hand in yours to wave at nancy.

"say 'hi mommy'"

nancy smiles, genuine adoration at the way she watches you, and steps into the room.

"god you're a lifesaver," she tells you. "it's past your time isn't it?"

it's long past your working hours. but you don't tell her that.

you also don't tell her how she is probably overworking herself and how this can't possibly be good for her. you conceal it with a welcoming smile.

you've gotten used to the fact that this happens, that she sometimes gets home later than she has said.

and you always try not to mention it, especially not when her daughter is around.

because if you don't take proper care of her, who will then?

"it's fine, i love spending time with this one" you let her take the baby from your arms and watch as she kisses her daughter's cheek.

you know she's about to fall into a rabbit hole of telling you how this really isn't necessary and how you should get home so instead you take her daughter back in your arms once she has peppered her little face with kisses. she's all ready for bed, you took care of that before nancy has gotten home, and her tiny yawn only proves that it's about time someone takes her to bed.

"don't worry" you quickly speak. "you look like you could use a bath. i'll take care of it, okay?"

"y/n-" she sounds like she is about to protest, but then drops her arms weakly. "i really do need a bath..."

you chuckle sweetly and let her say goodnight to her daughter before carrying her to bed.

⋆

it doesn't take long until she is peacefully curled up in her bed, snoring quietly to the even rhythm of her breathing.

then, and only then, you sneak out of her bedroom, and down the hallway to where nancy's room is. to say goodbye, is what you tell yourself.

this is how most of your days end. in the room of a woman who you technically work for.

you're taken aback by the sight in front of you when you enter the large bedroom.

nancy wheeler is laying on her side, one hand resting on her hip while the other holds a glass of champagne.

she has changed out of her work attire, switching it for a light pink set of lingerie that you've never seen on her.

it's not like there is much to see, anyway. it's a tiny thing, see-through and barely holding anything with its thin, lacy material.

might not be the best for support but, god, she looks good in it.

her hand rests just over her hipbone and, with the way the light of the room reflects on her skin, she looks almost angelic; skin pale and dark brown curls framing her face in all the right ways.

your jaw instantly drops and for a couple of seconds, you're frozen in place just staring at the woman in front of you.

your eyes wander over her body, taking in the swell of her breasts, the dip of her waist, her slim, long legs, crossing slightly just above the ankles.

nancy sees the way your chest is rising and falling, long before you even notice yourself.

she laughs softly before she turns to put the glass of champagne onto the bedside table, giving you a great view of her backside too.

you watch her with hungry eyes and lick your lips. this isn't what you had expected, not the kind of turn you thought this evening would take, but oh well. who are you to complain?

she crawls toward the edge of her bed on all fours and her voice is silky when she finally speaks.

"were you planning on leaving yet?" she nods her chin in the direction of the jacket you have thrown on on your way to her room.

"i- uhm- no, not anymore-“

"not anymore huh?" nancy swings her legs over the edge of the bed and steps closer to you slowly.

"no" you shake your head and gulp audibly. she hums in response. her blown pupils are a lot more visible now that she is stepping into your space with a sway of her hips.

soon enough, her delicate fingers meet your shoulder while she tiptoes around you.

you watch her from the corner of your eye, most of your focus on the weight of her hand on your shoulder.

"i missed you today, you know?" nancy mumbles absentmindedly. "couldn't stop thinking of that pretty body of yours..."

she pushes the jacket off of you as she speaks and you let it drop down to the floor.

her sweet perfume lingers all around you and you inhale deeply, taking all of her in. floral scent -your favorite- mixing with something that is entirely her own.

"y-yeah...?" you breathe, voice hitching in your throat.

"hmh" her hands roam your sides from behind, her fingers hiking up the top you're wearing while her other palm presses against the side of your neck to tilt your head aside.

her lips brush over your skin, hot puffs tickling against it.

"can i touch you...?"

the quiet "please" falls from your lips in a much more desperate manner than you had intended but you're rewarded by hot kisses against the side of your neck that quickly help you forget.

your heart is beating fast in your chest, the sensual kissing reaching new heights as her lips find the structure of your jaw and bite down on your skin.

you hiss out in pain but it quickly changing into a groan of pleasure when she runs her tongue over the pulsing mark it has left.

eventually, she steps around you, your eyes meeting when she gets up on her tiptoes, arms dangling from the back of your neck loosely.

her lips glisten in the light. they're puffy too, from how she has kissed you.

"kiss me" you whisper and it's all it takes.

nancy leans in slowly, so slowly that you catch a glimpse of her biting on her lower lip in the excitement of hearing that you want her too.

but then her mouth is on yours and nothing else matters.

she cups your face with her fingers while her lips move against yours.

they're soft and have a hint of champagne on them.

you really can not help yourself but melt against her touch, allowing her to kiss you however she wants to.

she takes her time today. it's nothing like the desperate times when you end up pressed up against the door while she makes you cum at a fast pace. the times when her kisses are uncoordinated and wild. when her lips are whispering dirty things to you.

you moan into her mouth the second she parts her lips, your hands reaching for her hair, for anything to hold onto so that you don't lose yourself in the taste of her.

she hums, fingers fumbling with the buttons of your top as she steps backward.

you're chasing her, never letting her step too far from you.

you reach down yourself, helping her get you out of the layer of clothing that is separating you from her.

nancy has reached the bed, kneeling on it without ever allowing too much space between both of your bodies.

once you have gotten rid of the shirt, you follow her, knees on the soft mattress and expensive sheets.

she pulls back then, to look up at you. she looks beautiful like this.

nancy always looks beautiful, but never like this: eyes full of want, of need.

"nancy-" you manage.

the woman in front of you bites her lip and sighs. "let me have you..."

her voice is hoarse, hungry for you.

you nod your head erratically, "yes".

her gaze wanders down your body, your legs still in a pair of wide pants.

too much clothing, nancy decides, and unzips them with a well-coordinated flick of the buttons and zipper.

you take them off quickly before turning back around to find that she's already staring at you.

to be fair, you don't really understand what a woman like nancy wheeler sees in you.

only the way you must look next to her right now has you wondering again; in a mismatched pair of light underwear that's got nothing on nancy's fancy set of lingerie.

she can tell something must be wrong, taking your face in her hands by placing her palm to your throat and grabbing your jaw between your index and your thumb.

"what is it, pretty girl?"

blush creeps up your chest and you look down at your own body. nancy's eyes dart after yours and a warm smile lights up her face.

"you're beautiful" she finally speaks, as if she's been reading your mind. "so beautiful"

she sits up on her knees and moves closer to you, one hand flat against your back when she starts kissing down your torso.

she's mumbling sweet nothings against your chest and you hold her there, a hand to the back of her head, silently begging her not to stop.

skilled fingers make quick work of your bra and she throws it over her shoulders carelessly, finally touching you closer to the way you need her.

nancy kisses further down until her lips latch around your nipple.

you gasp and she chuckles. she gets the message though, sucking harder as a first, actual moan falls from your lips.

you're already rolling your hips desperately, in search of anything from her.

"what is it?" she mumbles, staring up at you with her chin against your chest.

"touch me" you simply breathe, too much brain capacity taken by nancy to form a proper sentence.

if there is one thing that has surprised you about her, then it's the way she gets pleasure from getting you off.

of course, she loves to have your head between her thighs too, loves to come around your fingers or lips.

but she uses every possible opportunity to get you beneath her.

"will you let me touch you?" she mumbles. "will you let me take care of you?"

your eyes flutter and you nod, over and over again until you feel her finger run down your body.

her index trails a line down your middle, following the valley between your breasts, down beneath your belly button, where it pushes below the waistline of your panties.

you reach out immediately, arms wrapping around her body, and your back arches forward as her hand finally gets to where you need her the most.

she moves her arm further down until her palm is cupping your mound.

nancy watches you carefully, takes in your reaction to the first time she dips her fingers down to your entrance.

her facial expression matches your own, mouth agape and eyes fluttering when she feels your arousal pooling.

you resist the urge of pressing your thighs together, allowing her to coat her fingers in your wetness.

with a shaky whisper of "fuck, god, nancy" she starts flicking your clit slowly.

she draws clockwise circles around it, exploring the arousal between your thighs every now and then while your nails dig into the skin of her shoulder blades.

you nearly choke on your own breath when she leans close again, pulling you into somewhat of a hug, except that her fingers are working wonders on your throbbing cunt.

your jaw drops and your eyes roll back in your head when she slowly inserts two of her fingers, stretching you out around her in a way that feels a little too good.

even your head drops back at the first thrust of her fingers.

you're canting your hips, rutting against her, a plead for her to finally go faster, fuck you in the ways from which she knows that they will make you cum.

your head nuzzles her neck, all ten of your fingers scratching down her back to keep her close and to let her know how good this feels.

"you like that, yeah?" she whispers.

you bite your lip and nod, "so much nancy, please"

"yeah?" her tone is a kind of mocking that was your walls fluttering, sucking in her delicate digits.

"p-please"

nancy looks into your eyes when she picks up the pace of her fingers, curling them against that spongy spot inside you that has your knees nearly giving out underneath you.

it's heavenly but both of you know that this is not enough yet.

the whimper that falls from your lips when she removes her fingers from you is almost embarrassing but you know she likes it by the way she smirks at you.

"shhh" she takes your chin in her hand again, tilting your head so that you're looking right at her. "you're such a greedy thing aren't you?"

"hmh" you aren't even paying attention to what she's saying. "please, i need you nancy"

"you sound so sweet when you beg me to fuck you" the woman with the power to ruin you chuckles. "i wanna hear more of it"

you reach for her and kiss her, sucking her bottom lip into your mouth in a silent plead.

"don't worry, you'll have me" nancy mumbles. she leans back to look at you; at your messy hair and desperate eyes, knowing damn well that no one else could get you to such a state.

she licks her fingers right in front of your face, moaning at the taste suggestively.

your heart skips a beat and you watch her hungrily while she sucks her digits into her mouth.

"god you taste so good"

the second they leave her mouth, you lean back in. chasing your own taste by letting her tongue glide past your own lips.

eventually, she releases your mouth with a wet pop noise.

"i got something," nancy says. "and i really want to use it on you, if that's okay?"

the idea of what she might've gotten creeps its way into your mind slowly, causing your head to spin. because if your assumption is right, then you want nothing more than just that.

you confirm it by nodding your head. you can't even manage a proper response.

she tells you to wait and you gladly do if that means getting to watch her body move in the set of lingerie, clinging to her skin in all the right ways.

"god you're gorgeous" you groan while she gets on her knees next to the bed, fumbling something out of a drawer of her bedside table.

nancy smiles to herself and eyes you from where she's sitting.

"i got it just for you..." she mumbles. "i knew you would like it on me...same occasion that i got this-"

she finally gets up, revealing the mysterious object in question.

your mouth waters when you recognize what she's holding and your center throbs at the thought of her taking you like that.

"holy shit..."

you drop down onto the mattress as you watch her hand wrapped around the shaft while she's securing the harness to her hips.

you didn't think it was possible for the sight of her body in lingerie could get any better but...oh well.

nancy just chuckles while her hands secure the toy to her body.

"god, i'm gonna fuck you so good-" she whispers absentmindedly, and yet you hear every word, shivers running down your spine at the mere thought of it.

"please" you whimper, your eyes watching her every move when she turns to you again.

"turn around for me, will you?"

you comply immediately, body scrambling over the sheets while you turn and get on all fours.

you put your head down on your crossed arms, arching your ass up in the air.

nancy is out of your sight now, but you feel when her weight moves the mattress behind you, just shortly before she strokes your sides softly.

"so perfect...such a pretty thing..." her fingers trace down your spine until they reach the dip of your waist. they hook under the waistband of your panties and she pulls them down slowly.

"god" she nearly moans, "you're so fucking wet for me"

you nod your head, hips moving back against her on their own accord. at this point, you want nothing more but to get fucked senselessly by her.

"patience"

you gasp when you feel the tip run through your folds slowly, coating it in your arousal.

your eyes are pressed shut the closer it gets to your dripping entrance, silently praying for her to finally push it into you.

"i need you nancy," you whine. "please"

and, just in case that isn't enough for her yet, you add a desperate "mommy" to your begging.

nancy's nails dig into your flesh when she pushes you back against the tip, causing it to sink into your dripping pussy.

"mommy hm?" her chuckle sounds darkly in your ears. "you want mommy to give you her cock yeah-?

"oh my- yes- mommy-" you moan at the delicious feeling of getting stretched out like this.

she stills for a moment, allowing you to get used to the initial first stretch and how it feels to get filled up like this.

but you take it greedily, clenching around the cock the deeper it moves inside you.

"just like that" she praises you. "take me so fucking well...good girl"

this alone is enough for you to push your hips all the way back, taking the whole length of the strap all at once.

the gasp that comes from behind you tells you that this must've caught nancy by surprise too, but she doesn't seem to be too bothered by it.

her hand strokes over your back while she stays entirely still.

you can feel your arousal dripping down your thigh. you need her to move, need her to take you until you're screaming.

"what do you want again...?"

you don't need to see her to know there's a wicked grin on her face.

the pull-out comes suddenly, leaving you empty and clenching around nothing. you wail in agony at the emptiness, ass wiggling after the sensation of getting filled up.

"i wanna hear you...”

"fuck-" you whimper. "please- please put- put it back into me- please- fuck-"

"yeah-? then let me hear you!"

"fuck yeah- god nancy please, i- ah"

she pushes herself back inside, not wasting a single second as she thrusts her hips to meet your ass over and over at a relentless pace.

her grip on your ass hardens, nails digging into the soft flesh to get you closer.

you didn't even think you could make the kind of noises that fall from your lips.

you cry out, your hands tightening to fists in the bedsheets.

"oh- oh my god nancy-"

"yeah- yeah that's it pretty girl" she grunts. "take it so well"

and it is really all you can do; taking it while you're on your stomach for her.

but, god, it's not like you're complaining, no. in fact, she's fucking you better than anyone else ever has.

"you're- fuck- so deep" you babble. "feels s'good-you feel so good when- god- when you're inside me"

"yeah? has anyone else fucked you this good? tell me? does anyone else's cock makes you scream like this?"

you shake your head against her pillows, your eyes pressed shut tightly as you whine.

nancy leans in closer, causing the strap to push into you from a slightly different angle that has it fucking into you in short but deep thrusts.

she takes a fistful of your hair and yanks you back in a way that has you yelping.

"words, princess" nancy whispers, her palm right between your shoulder blades now.

"n-no" you finally murmur. "no- no one- no one has ever fucked me this good before"

"good" she said confidently. "gonna make sure it stays this way hm?"

"yes. god yes."

her strap is pounding against your g-spot in all the right ways to a point where you're struggling to stay up on your elbows.

nancy lingers over you, her breaths coming shorter from the exhaustion of fucking you at such a brutal pace but she doesn't dare stop.

not when this gets you to a point where you can't even form words anymore.

eventually, your arms do give in entirely and your face drops into the soft sheets beneath you.

of course this does not stop nancy from pounding into you further.

"so- fuck- so close-" you mumble, face buried in the pillows.

it catches you by surprise when she suddenly pulls all the way out of you again.

"what are you-" you're about to protest but she cuts you off.

"need to see you" nancy pants. "need to see your pretty face when you cum"

she shifts on the bed and sits down, spinning you around so that you're face to face with her.

she taps her lap.

"come one pretty girl" she breathes, her voice hoarse and dripping with arousal. "ride me until you cum all over me"

you don't even know where you find the strength to straddle her lap but maybe it's just the thought of riding nancy's strap and your building orgasm that makes you do it

she kisses you deeply when you sink onto the plastic cock, a long and lewd cry erupting from your throat when you take it all the way in.

"so pretty" nancy praises while she's brushing sweat-stained hair out of your eyes.

you feel her fingers on your ass, helping you with your movements while you bounce up and down. you do it slowly at first, but quickly pick up your pace to chase your own orgasm.

"fuck please" you whimper. "nancy fuck me already"

and so she does. her hips move upward to meet yours with every thrust. you have both of your hands on her shoulders to somehow steady yourself while she is making you see stars.

she's moving slightly slower than before, enjoying the sinful moans that fall from your lips and trying to make this moment last.

but not slow enough to stop the intense build-up of your orgasm.

you reach down your body and nancy watches it happen, lets you circle your clit to add on to the intense pleasure.

the feeling in your core is swelling further and further.

"fuck nancy-" you moan. "fuck please don't stop-"

her bedroom is filled with the squelching of your cunt around the strap and the breathless moans drawn from your lips.

you're getting closer with every stroke of her and you can tell that she knows.

you can feel your walls clenching around her.

"nancy- holy shit- i'm gonna- you're gonna make me cum nancy"

"i know" she exhales sharply. "cum for me pretty girl. god, please soak my strap and cum for me"

your thankful for her hands on your waist because you would've probably fallen over, that's how much you arch your back against her.

you feel your climax everywhere, each and every nerve of your body on fire when you moan her name in ecstasy.

the hand that you have on your clit can't keep up anymore and you let it drop to your side, but the strap is more than enough for you to ride through your orgasm, coating it with your release like nancy has asked you to.

"fuck, fuck, fuck" you mumble. the sensitivity is slowing becoming too much to handle and you slow down until you come to a halt.

"oh my god" nancy breathes. "that was- god- you look so pretty when you ride me"

you chuckle breathlessly.

"seriously" she murmurs. "you're gorgeous"

you lean down to kiss her but whimper when the strap hits that one particularly sensitive spot, waves of aftershock causing your limbs to shake.

but nancy kisses you through it, hand reaching down to pull herself out of you.

"you did so good" she whispers while withdrawing the strap from you and unbuckling it from her hips.

you drop to the side immediately, the sheets comforting against your damp skin.

nancy joins just a couple of seconds afterwards, throwing the strap aside so that she can nuzzle up against you.

her hand finds yours and she links your fingers together.

"did that feel good, hm?"

you nod your head "hmh"

she wraps a leg over your lower body and holds you close. her arm crosses over your torso, a palm resting against your overheated cheek.

"i'm gonna have to get you out of these" you mumble with your eyes still closed.

"what these-?" she eyes down to her lingerie.

"hmh"

she shifts on the bed and sits up slowly. you don't open your eyes until you hear the noise of a bra getting unclasped.

"god nance you're killing me" you groan at the sight of her stripping out of the top piece.

that's when you know that this was only the beginning...

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