#stancy is bad for both nancy AND steve | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

the-case-book-of-fanfiction · 1 year

Text

Bob Seger

Ship: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Summary: Is there a handbook for what to do when your crush walks into your store to buy a gift for his girlfriend? There should be!

Word Count: 5,432 words

Warnings: Stancy, Steve being deeply in love and then getting his heart broken, brief mention of Steve's asshole dad, pining reader, hurt/comfort, Tommy & Carol, language, innuendo

Note: Inspired in part by Steve's rendition of Old Time Rock & Roll.

☟ Continue below the fold ☟

Nancy hadn't been herself, not since Barb disappeared, and her mood had only been getting worse every day. Steve could feel her retreating into herself, hiding from the world and from herself and from him. He could feel Tommy and Carol getting progressively more frustrated with her (and with him for putting up with it) with every passing day.

And it's not like Steve blamed Nancy. Her best friend had gone missing while Nancy hung out with people Barb wasn't the biggest fan of. And, to rub salt in an open wound, Nancy had been having sex with Steve while Barb disappeared.

Steve felt a little guilty, to say the least. He'd had the thought of If I hadn't wanted to sleep with Nancy so bad, she would have gone home with Barb and they'd both be safe. But after a while, he wasn't so sure about that. The longer he thought about it, the more he became convinced that if Nancy had gone with Barb, they both would have gone missing.

Whether it was through his own guilt or because he wanted to make Nancy feel better, he wasn't quite sure, Steve found himself driving to the record store just off Main Street after school got out. He'd blocked out the noise of Tommy and Carol bickering, Tommy in the passenger seat and Carol leaning forward from the back seat, too busy trying to remember which bands had played from the radio the night he was studying at Nancy's house, and whether or not Nancy had actually liked them. He didn't want to screw up his little surprise by getting her music she wouldn't listen to—or a vinyl she already owned. Maybe he should have discreetly snooped through her pile of records before he'd made up his mind to do this...

Tommy sharply elbowed Steve in the ribs. Before Steve could snap at him, he said, "You're overthinking this, man. She's either gonna pretend to love it and not actually care, or she's just gonna not care."

Behind them, Carol giggled. It sounded far more sinister than it should have.

Steve glared at him for a second before he made the turn into the store's parking lot. "You're no help, you realize that?" He parked the car and turned to the two of them. "You're gonna stay here and wait, got it? And don't do anything stupid, I'll make you clean the back seat this time."

Carol grinned. "What if it's the passenger seat?"

"Or the driver's," Tommy added, leaning back to kiss Carol, before Steve could snap that the passenger's seat was Nancy's seat. Steve felt his throat constrict.

"Do not get it on in my fucking car," he warned, "or I'm never driving you anywhere ever again."

He got out, slamming the door behind him, and sent a warning glare back over his shoulder. Tommy flipped him off through the windshield. Beside Steve, an elderly woman gasped in offense and Steve winced.

"Sorry about him," he muttered, but the woman was already scurrying off into her own vehicle. Steve sighed and pushed open the front door to the record shop.

A little bell above the door chimed once as he swung the door open, and then again as it closed behind him. Steve had only been in the store a handful of times, but he loved it more and more with every visit. The walls were plastered in old vinyls, displayed so that the name of each band was readable. No vinyl was the same color, some of them blue, some red, some multicolor, but all of them were different. A small gold plaque designated the oldest vinyl the store had on the walls, which was a reddish Vocalion from 1922 and was positioned directly above the door.

Rows and rows of alphabetized vinyls spread throughout the store, which was bigger than it looked from the storefront. In the lefthand corner nearest the door, a cashier's desk was set up, though there was no employee behind it. A plastic sign read I'm in the back! I'll be back soon!

Steve headed for the aisles of vinyls, then recognized what was playing over the speakers—Bob Seger's Night Moves.

Humming as he flipped through the stacks, Steve didn't notice the door to the back open, or you walk out of it and back to your desk.

"Mmm, sweet summertime, summertime," Steve sang, keeping his voice low, still embarrassed by his voice, an instinct his father made sure he would never shake.

But you heard it, even with the volume of the radio. You looked up from the desk, gaze scanning the rows. You spotted the back of Steve's head and recognized him immediately. That hair was unmistakable.

Heat burned in your belly. Suddenly, you really wished your coworker hadn't gone home just ten minutes earlier, complaining of nausea. If she'd just stuck around a few more minutes...you wouldn't have to face your long-time crush who was absolutely not available, happily dating Nancy Wheeler and unlikely to leave her any time soon.

You resisted the urge to hide your face in your hands. Sure, you'd liked him since middle school, long before he'd become part of the popular crowd and back when his hair was still a mess that hid his eyes from the world, and yes, you had two classes with him, but it's not like he'd know who you were, right? You'd keep relative anonymity and he would remain none the wiser of your long-standing admiration of him.

But then the song changed to The Fire Down Below and Steve was shimmying where he stood, singing the line "Here comes hot Nancy, she's steppin' right on time" with the hugest grin on his face.

You sighed. The school, your best friends, the entire senior year was right—Steve Harrington was down bad for Nancy Wheeler.

The tiniest bit of hope that he might one day notice you was dashed every time you heard that loving croon of his voice every time he sang Nancy's name.

This is why we don't get our hopes up, you told yourself, echoing a sentiment your best friend had drilled into you ever since Steve became the ladies' man that made him so popular in high school. Not that it erased the previous middle school years of drooling over Steve, back before anyone else had really considered him attractive.

You watched as Steve meticulously went through every record in the store, clearly searching for something specific. You normally would have gotten up and approached a customer taking this long, but it was Steve. You knew the instant you got up from your stool, your legs would give out underneath you. And if that didn't happen, you'd walk into a shelf on your way over to him. And if that didn't happen either, you'd start stuttering the moment you tried to talk to him. And if that didn't happen, you'd turn bright red and combust on the spot when he either asked for your help or turned you away.

Too stuck in your head, you didn't even realize the record had stopped playing until you heard Steve's singing stop. A pang went through you at the sound of silence—Steve's voice was almost more soothing than the music itself.

You turned around and dug through your pile of vinyls the store let you play until you found another Bob Seger—the album he'd released last year. Steve had been singing Bob Seger, and you desperately wanted him to keep singing.

You cleaned off the record before placing the needle down. A few bars into Even Now, you turned back around and squeaked, jumping in surprise.

Steve was standing at your desk, a pleasant but awkward smile on his face.

"Uh...hi," he said. "Sorry if I scared you."

You blinked at him and cleared your throat, hoping your voice didn't come out squeaky. "It's...it's fine. Can I help you with something?"

"Uh, please, I'm looking for—" He snapped his fingers. "You're in my chemistry class, aren't you?" You nodded, meekly adding that you were also in English together, and he beamed. "I knew I recognized you from somewhere!"

"Yeah, uh... Hi, Steve," you said. "You said you were looking for...?"

Steve shook himself out. "Oh, yeah, um... I'm trying to find a record for Nancy, my girlfriend, because I want to cheer her up after...everything. I'm sure you've heard about it."

The tiredness in his voice surprised you. But you nodded without bringing it up. "I have. How's she holding up?"

Steve sighed. "Not...fantastically. That's why I'm doing this, I want to get her something to take her mind off things."

You raised your brows. "So you decided on a record?"

Steve shrugged, his cheeks turning a soft shade of pink. "I thought it would be something we could dance to, and that that might make her feel better."

Your heart squeezed. How are you so sweet? "Alright, makes sense. What does she like to listen to usually?"

Steve shut his eyes as if thinking for a moment, then said, "She likes ABBA and Michael Jackson, she has a Fleetwood Mac tape but only ever listens to Rhiannon, but she sings under her breath every time Journey comes on the radio, doesn't matter what song it is. She's got Madonna, Bowie, Blondie, and The Beatles already as tapes and vinyls, so I don't want to get her those."

You blinked at him. "You really do pay attention to everything, don't you?"

Steve smiled shyly. "I...I guess so, when it comes to Nancy."

You left the back of the desk, hoping you weren't visibly shaking too much. "Let's go find you a Journey vinyl, okay? They just released a new album a few months ago, I'm pretty sure we've got it on vinyl..."

Steve followed you to the J section and the two of you started flipping through, both of you softly singing along to Love's The Last To Know as you did.

Halfway through the song and completely through the Js section, you interrupted the song with a gasp.

"I know where it is! Wait here," you told him, and hurried into the back room. You dug through the most recently delivered box of records until you saw the familiar blue album cover of Frontiers, letting out a victory cry as you grabbed it.

Steve was leaning on the shelf, still singing "We lost our way and our love's the last to know" so mournfully you wondered what heartbreak he'd been through before.

"I got it!" you said, grinning and holding the record aloft.

Steve beamed. "Thanks! I really appreciate it. I know I was kind of...out of my depth for a bit there."

You shrugged. "Eh, that's nothing. I've had people come in here demanding records we don't carry from bands that only just released music." You rolled your eyes. "'No, sir, we don't carry Metallica, and even if we did, the album came out last week, so we wouldn't have it yet anyway!'"

Steve snorted with laughter, handing you cash to pay for the vinyl. "Let me guess, it was the Munson kid."

"The Munson kid," you confirmed.

"Thanks again," Steve said, though he didn't seem inclined to head out the door.

"Any time," you said, instantly regretting the words because if you saw Steve at your workplace more than this, you were going to have a heart attack, but you paired the words with a kind smile anyway.

"See you in class tomorrow," he said, stepping out the door and waving goodbye. You watched him go, putting the record in the back seat, snapping at Tommy and Carol in his car, and pulling out of the parking lot.

You let go a tense, nervous breath. The pain in your chest eased. Well, at least Steve knew of you now. And even if his dedication to Nancy was unfailing, at least you might get to talk to him now, even if it only worsened the ache in your heart.

~❊~

Steve skipped third block.

The entire school seemed to be talking about why—or at least, his entire gym class, who had told a story about Billy Hargrove getting in his face the entire basketball game, and then Nancy dragging him out of the class to "talk" about something. At first, everyone had assumed they were banging in the locker rooms, until somebody reminded them Nancy hadn't been in first block, and she never skipped, and that Steve usually drove her to school—but he hadn't missed first block. Then when he'd come back, upset and angry, from his talk with Nancy, people started to put a story together.

You weren't sure you wanted to believe the story, or the many versions of the story, that were floating around you chemistry class. It didn't line up with what you knew of Steve, or what you knew of his relationship with Nancy, most of which you heard straight from him.

But then again...

You shook yourself out of your head, your gaze straying back toward Steve's empty seat. You sighed, pulling your notebook toward you and copying down the notes on the board as neat as you could—undoubtedly you'd need to give them to Steve when he decided to come back to class.

But when your best friend came into the class, handing your teacher a doctor's note, her wide eyes already told you Steve wasn't coming back today.

She sat down beside you, hissing your name. You looked at her. "What? What's wrong?"

"Is there a reason I just saw Steve Harrington crying in his car?" she whispered to you.

Your eyes went huge. Whatever had happened between him and Nancy, it wasn't good. "Keep your voice down and don't tell anyone else about that," you said.

She flipped her notebook to a blank page and started writing. "You better fill me in on everything I missed today," she said.

"Obviously, but only once I know exactly what happened," you said. "Which means only once Steve tells me what happened. However long that takes."

~❊~

It became painfully clear that Steve didn't want to talk—to anyone. He snapped at anyone who tried to bring it up with him, and his mood was waspish. The situation was made worse by the rumors spread by Tommy and Carol—that Nancy had only been with Steve for his money and the sex; that she left because Steve wasn't good enough for her; that she was cheating on him with Jonathan.

You knew that the jibes about Jonathan hit Steve a little too close to home. The same rumor had circulated last year when Will and Barb went missing, but this time, you were almost positive they were true.

Nancy was entirely unbothered by the whole thing. Seeing her prance around with Jonathan, not caring that doing so was hurting Steve more than anything, made your blood boil.

On your way to the record store for another one of your slow closing shifts, a week after Steve skipped chem class, you saw the two of them walking together along the sidewalk. You rolled your eyes at them. You had once thought Nancy to be the luckiest girl in the world: smart, pretty, and dating the hottest man Hawkins had to offer. Now you were certain she was the most careless, throwing it all away for a mediocre man.

Steve's car was in the store's parking lot when you arrived. You parked next to him, looking over to find him in the driver's seat, staring into his lap.

You got out and knocked on his window. "Steve? You okay?" He looked up, sporting red-rimmed eyes. You could hear Bob Seger's Comin' Home playing quietly on his radio. "Oh, Steve..."

Steve got out of his car. Voice quiet and rough, he asked, "Can I hang out for a while?"

"Yeah," you said. "Whatever you need."

His lip trembled. "A...a hug?" His voice as meek and barely there. But you heard it and the request made your heart break. You enveloped him in a tight hug, letting him soften into your hold. You remained that way until Steve decided he was done, not caring how many of your classmates walked by, staring in wonder at Steve clinging to you, new gossip already burning on their tongues.

~❊~

A good day meant boppier music at the record store as soon as you started your shift and shoved your coworker from the mid-afternoon shift out the door. So you swapped out all the mellow music in the stack of records beside your record player with music with a good beat that you could dance to while you restocked and reshelved.

Not even half an hour into your shift, the Naked Eyes record spun into Always Something There To Remind Me. You turned up the volume as high as you could without destroying the speakers and being chewed out by your managers, singing along and dancing by yourself while you worked.

"Well, how can I forget you, girl? When there is always something there to remind me!" You finished stacking your records in the aisle and turned back for a new pile. "Always something there to remind me. I was born to love her, and I'll never be free, you'll always be a part of— Steve!" You careened into his chest, grateful you weren't holding anything, because it all would have dropped to the floor. Steve's arms looped around you, stopping you from falling. "Don't sneak up on me, you scared me!"

"The doorbell rung!"

"Well, I didn't hear it!" You finally looked up at him, heart beating wildly out of your chest at the feeling of his chest against yours, his arms around your waist. You realized he looked downright miserable. "What happened?"

He sighed. "Remember how I said I was gonna try and patch things up with Nance?"

"Yeah..."

Steve's lower lip started to tremble. "It...it didn't go well."

Your heart dropped to your feet. "Oh, Steve, I'm...I'm so sorry."

He sniffled. "It's, uh, it's over. She...she doesn't love me, has never loved me, I'm still bullshit, and she's been sleeping with Jonathan. So..." He heaved a heavy sigh. "It's over. Completely, totally, officially over."

"Steve," you whispered. "I'm so sorry, honey. Is there anything I can do?"

He smiled, lips trembling and eyes watering. "Change the song?" The words came out with a little hiccup and a laugh.

You realized what the song was about. "Oh! Yeah, sure, right—sorry. It's such an upbeat song in the actual music, I didn't even think about the words!" You untangled yourself from his arms to change the record. "What are you in the mood for?"

"Nothing romantic, please," he said, sitting down on your stool. "And, after you're done..."

You looked at him, sensing his hesitation. "Yeah?"

"Can I have another hug?"

You smiled at him, looping your arms around his back where he sat. He fell into you, burying his head in your shirt. "Of course, Steve."

You held onto Steve as tightly as he held onto you, praying he wouldn't notice the fast beat of your heart while he wallowed in his grief. It was a strange feeling, for Steve to be hiding from the world, form Nancy, from his broken heart in your arms, all while you harbored a horribly deep crush on him and a secret, guilty delight that it was over with Nancy.

"I just..." Steve huffed, clearly trying his best not to sob into your shirt. "I don't know where I went wrong. I don't know why I wasn't good enough."

Without really meaning to, you put your hand in Steve's hair. "Does there need to be a reason? Some people just aren't meant for each other, Steve."

Steve looked up at you with his red rimmed eyes, tears on his lash line. He hesitated a moment and then said, "If I tell you something...promise me you won't just...laugh at me."

Your heart broke for him. How many times had he told Tommy or Carol or, what the hell, even Nancy something, only to be laughed at, for him to ask that of you? "Of course I won't laugh at you, Steve." You squeezed his shoulder. "Why would I laugh at you?"

He didn't answer your question. "I know it sounds...ridiculous, but...I just—" He sighed. "I thought Nancy was the one. I've never been happier with a girl before, and she was honest, she was smart, she was determined, she had goals, she was nothing like the girls I was with before, and she made me feel alive! I thought for sure that I was... That I was maybe gonna spend the rest of my life with her."

You bit your lip. "There was no maybe about it, was there, Steve?"

He sighed, letting his head fall back into you. You muffled your grunt as he hid his face in your stomach, his arms sliding up your back and hold you closer to him. "No," he mumbled into the fabric of your shirt.

You smoothed your hand through his perfect hair and kissed the top of his head. You froze, hearing his tiny intake of breath. "Oh, I'm...I'm sorry, that was kind of...automatic, I guess?"

Steve peeked up at you and tugged you closer to his body until your feet hit the legs of your stool he was perched on. "It's okay. Um... Can you...keep doing that? With my hair?" Pink tinged his skin. "If you don't mind."

"I don't mind," you whispered, rubbing your fingers across his scalp. He sighed, pushing into your touch. Heat bloomed across your body.

"Sorry," he whispered. "I know this is...weird. But, um, Nancy never... Never really touched me or— Or held me or anything, so..."

"You don't have to explain yourself," you whispered. "Not to me, not to anyone. Okay?"

"Okay," he agreed, slowly relaxing in your arms.

"I've got you, Steve," you assured him. "I've got you."

~❊~

Before he'd even pulled into the parking lot, Steve was mentally apologizing to you. You'd told him time and time again when he visited you while you were working that you enjoyed your slow closing shifts. It meant there was no one to bother you while you were in the middle of a restock, making you forget where you were; it meant there was no one to complain about the music you played, so you could listen to whatever you wanted; it meant your final hour was spent just closing up shop instead of shooing customers out the door—except for Steve, who had become a regular and always stayed until you left, sometimes to give you a ride home and other times just to have a friend around.

But today, he wasn't coming alone. His car was full to bursting with young children: Dustin, Max, Lucas, Mike, and Will, all of whom he'd been tasked with picking up from their after school activities for the day. He had tried to get them to go home quickly, but his attempts to rush them out of his car had led them to discover that he was seeing a girl, which they all took the wrong way, of course.

Sort of.

Now that Steve was prowling the world alone again, he'd realized his initial estimation of you—pretty, smiley, shy with new people but confident with your friends—was right, but it was a muted reality compared to how you really were. It was like he'd been looking at you with sunglasses covering his eyes this whole time. Now that those glasses were gone, the record shop girl had become more than just his best friend.

And he was really hoping the kids were not about to point that out.

As per usual, you were playing Bob Seger when Steve pushed the door open. He'd yet to figure out if you played Bob Seger so much when he came to visit because you loved Bob Seger, or if you had (correctly) pinned Steve as a fan.

(Not that Steve had ever told anyone he was a fan; he let them think the only reason he even knew about his music was because of Carol's obsession with Risky Business.)

You weren't at your desk like Steve had expected; you were carrying a huge stack of records in your arms, shelving them as you walked along the rows, singing along to Sunspot Baby without a care in the world.

"Sunspot baby," you sang. "She sure had a real good time."

"I looked in Miami, I looked in Negril," Steve joined in. You turned with a grin, heading back to your desk. "The closest I came was a month old bill."

You noticed the kids as you put down your stack. "You brought company today, I see."

Steve gave you a look while the kids were still behind him. You stifled a giggle. "Uh, yeah, these are the kids. Dustin Henderson, Lucas Sinclair, Max Mayfield, Will Byers, and Mike Wheeler."

Dustin walked straight up to your desk. "So you're the girl Steve talks about all the time?"

"All the time, huh?" you said, smiling in a way that suggested you were sure Dustin was exaggerating.

"Every time we see him," Mike groaned. You stared at the younger Wheeler in surprise.

"Oh, really? Is that so, Steve?" you teased.

He rolled his eyes, unable to stop his blush. "Sorry to interrupt your quiet shift. They wanted to stop in and grab some records."

"No we didn't—we just wanted to meet you," Lucas said. Steve's calm expression became painfully forced.

The young redhead snorted. "Speak for yourself." She looked up at you expectantly. "Do you have any David Bowie?"

You grinned. "I like you, you have good taste. Back side of the first row."

Max grinned and dragged Lucas with her.

You looked back at Steve. "Do you have enough room in your car for one more?"

"Need a ride when you leave?"

You nodded.

"Yeah, I've got room. I'll just make the kids rearrange."

You laughed. "You don't have to do that," you insisted.

Steve leaned across the counter. "Don't worry about it—I want to. I'd feel terrible if I left you to get home on your own."

You smiled at him, noticing Dustin nudging Mike and Will and pointing in your direction out of the corner of your eye.

~❊~

Somehow, the kids' presence lightened up the rest of your shift. Time passed quickly with them there, adventuring through the store and asking you question after question about the vinyls lining the walls.

You waved off Steve as he tried to get the kids to leave you alone. "They're fine, Steve. It's okay. You wanna help me get everything packed up? I've gotta lock up soon."

"Oh, yeah, sure." Steve took the vinyl off the record player and slipped it back into its case. He glanced over his shoulder and called to the kids, "Hey, guys! We're gonna head out soon."

You ran through your closing tasks as quickly as you could, anxious to head home for the night.

"Alright, everybody out. Got everything?" you asked, ushering the kids to the door and taking out the key. You set the alarm system for the building and locked the door behind you.

Steve put a hand on your back. Warmth bloomed through you from where he touched you. "You're all ready to go?"

You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak.

The kids opened the doors of Steve's car, jumping in quickly. Dustin made his way to the passenger's seat. Steve stopped him, gently shoving him toward the back seat with everyone else.

"Hey—move it, Henderson, she's got the passenger's seat."

You stared at Steve. "No, no, it's okay, he can—"

Steve shook his head, holding open the door for you. "Come on, it's fine, just..." He gestured into the car. The kids whispered and giggled at him. He sent them a glare and Dustin's annoyed face shifted into a gleeful smirk.

You got in the front seat, unaware of the glances being exchanged in the back or the glare Steve was giving them.

"Seat belts!" Steve said as he got into the driver's seat. You giggled at him as the kids groaned. You caught the way his face lit up when he looked at you, and butterflies tickled your insides.

Once the kids had listened and all were buckled, Steve pulled out of the parking lot and started his way through Hawkins, dropping them off one-by-one: Will first, on the outskirts of town, his mother waiting at the door; Max, who was relieved the Camaro wasn't in the driveway; Dustin next, his new cat sitting on the front step; Lucas, who was immediately met with his snarky young sister; Mike last, Nancy already at the door—saying goodbye to Jonathan.

You glanced at Steve. "You alright?"

Steve looked at you, releasing a deep sigh. "I'm okay," he said. "I...I'm doing better now."

"Good," you said. "You deserve it."

Steve gave you a curious look before he said, "Let's get you home, right?"

"Right."

And if Steve drove slower the whole way back to yours compared to driving the kids home, you weren't going to say anything.

When he got back to your house, Steve pulled into the driveway and sighed. "Well. Home sweet home," he said.

You looked at Steve with a smile. "Thanks for the ride home." You picked up the bag you had put on the ground. You got out, then stopped yourself before you could close the door. You crouched to look at him in the car. "Hey, Steve?"

"Yeah?" Was it just your imagination, or did he sound nervous?

You took a deep breath. Now or never.

"I talk about you all the time, too."

For a moment, Steve processed your words. Then his eyes went wide. Hope bloomed on his slack-jawed face. "You..." He bit his lip, holding back a smile. "You mean that you..."

"Yes, Steve," you said, voice quiet. "Always have. Just ask my friends—they'll give away my secrets just as quickly as Dustin gave away yours." You drummed your fingers against the roof of his car. "Do with that what you will. It's up to you if...you want to even acknowledge it or not." You closed his door and started for your front door.

A door squeaked and then slammed shut moments later; running steps approached you.

"Wait!"

You turned as Steve's hand fell on your shoulder, pulling you close to him. He yanked your body close to his, his arms sliding around you, his hands gripping your shoulder blades. For a split second, you reveled in his hug, noticing the difference in it, relishing in the love in his arms instead of the misery.

Those few seconds became nothing as Steve pulled back. You gave a sound of protest, quickly squashed by Steve's lips.

Your heart had stopped beating, but was simultaneously pounding. You moved on instinct, looping your arms around his shoulders, yanking him down to you. Never once did your lips part from his as the two of you grappled to hold each other in the best way possible.

Thunder boomed overhead. You gasped, pulling apart.

"Was it supposed to storm?" you asked.

"I didn't think so," Steve said.

You kissed him again. Steve smiled into the kiss.

"You should get home before it pours," you whispered against his lips. But neither of you made any move to let go of each other.

Steve adjusted so that his head was against yours, his mouth at your temple. "See you tomorrow in class, then?"

You hummed. "Yeah. Tomorrow."

Steve pressed a kiss to your forehead. "I don't wanna leave."

You looked up at the sky, watching the already-grey skies grow darker as storm clouds rolled in. "We're going to get soaked if we stay out here, Steve."

Steve squeezed you tightly. "Tomorrow, then." He kissed your forehead again. "I'll see you tomorrow...sweetheart."

You beamed at the nickname while Steve blushed while he gave you the moniker.

"And to think," you whispered. "You'd known me all this time, but this? This happened all because you stopped in my store one day."

Steve hugged you tight to his chest. "I wish I'd noticed you before, sweetheart, really I do."

You kissed him. "Well, you've noticed me now." Light rain started, dusting Steve's hair until it sparkled. "Now go, before that pretty hair of yours gets ruined."

He grinned, brushing his hand through it. "I knew you liked my hair."

"Always have." You pressed a gentle kiss to his lips. "Always will."

☞ ❊ ☜

Stranger Things // Steve Harrington

part 2? lmk!

Taglist: {comment and let me know if you'd like to be added to the S.H. taglist!} @ohatropa@nix-rose@live-the-fangirl-life

619 notes · View notes

lovebugism · 2 years

Note

for the blurb sleepover thing, i am asking for a crumb of stancy x reader smut 🥺

✶ ┄ LAY ALL YOUR LOVE ON ME !

summary: your lives weren't supposed to turn out like this. but you're so very glad that they did. pairing: steve harrington / f!reader / nancy wheeler word count: 3.2k warnings: threesome, ffm, oral (f!receiving) smut 18+ mdni a/n: you asked for a crumb and in return a bring you a little over three thousand words and some of my favorite smut i've ever written <3 thanks for request anon!

( BLURB SLEEPOVER ) | ( MASTERLIST )

Nancy thought her entire life had been planned out before she was ever born. That her fate was doomed from the beginning and she was destined to end up like her mother — her mother’s mother, her mother’s mother’s mother.

It was too easy to picture a life with white picket fences and too big houses and ten-carat diamonds that didn’t mean shit.

It’s all just a shit show of wealth. None of it’s love. None of it’s real.

And even though she can see it all right in front of her, so tangible she can almost touch it, it doesn’t mean she wants to. Or that she’s ever wanted to. And rather than stare at herself in the mirror and see a life she’s been cursed with, she stares directly at the sun and decides to date the weirdo of Hawkins when she turns sixteen.

Jonathan Byers was rugged and strange and not all there sometimes, but he was kind. And he loved her. More than anything, though, he was a distraction from the plain vanilla lifestyle of the cul de sac. He showed her that there was more to life than pearls and pretty dresses and country-club-coded boyfriends.

For the first time, she saw herself as someone else. Not the goody-two-shoes, straight-A student from the wealthy part of town, but a person who could be so much more than all that. And, for a long time, she thought her happiest moments were spent with the freak from the wrong side of the tracks. They were. Until they… weren’t.

Nancy turns twenty and something shifts. She comes to the sudden realization that she was only happy because she felt like she was rebelling against some great, big, imaginary thing and it pummels her in the face with a closed fist.

She thought they loved each other in spite of how different they were, but the entire time it was because of how different they were. It was something short of a fetish, an acute fascination in each other, because both of them understood that they weren’t supposed to be dating a person on the farthest side of the social spectrum.

Jonathan was never supposed to end up with a pretty girl who grew up in a pretty house with prettier money. Nancy wasn’t meant to settle down with a guy from the bad part of town who worked two jobs to stay afloat and had no real aspirations in life because he was never really able to do anything in the first place.

But he did. She did. And it worked.

Then the dust settled and the fog cleared, and she realized none of that was real either.

Feelings were misplaced. Obsession ebbed to neutrality. Dumb teenagers grew up.

It all faded until the only thing left was a couple of kids who spent so much of their life running in the opposite direction because it felt good to rebel. When there was no authority to raise their middle finger to, there was no love left to give. There was no love at all. A mutual adoration for one another wasn’t enough to keep each other afloat.

And rather than drown in spite of it all, they swim even though it hurts.

Jonathan ends up on the opposite side of the country, still awkward and trying to take shape on the west coast. He keeps reveling in his boyhood with weed and arcades and pretty girls. Nancy stays close to home and tries like hell to grow up. She goes to college and moves out of the suburbs to a string of half-rundown apartments on the far side of town.

Not because it felt good to do the opposite of what her mom had done.

Not because there were a couple of odds she felt the need to defy.

But because it was what she wanted to do.

For the first time in her life, she wasn’t doing something for someone else, and she started to slowly blossom, like a wilting plant that just needed a little extra love.

She gets a lot of that these days, more love than she thought she could ever be deserving of. Because now she has Steve. She has you. And if he’s the rippling waves in the tides of her heart, you’re the moon that guides them.

You keep her steady when shit gets rocky, when she starts to get scared that she’s falling back into old ways. When she’s scared of how much she loves Steve because he’s the carbon copy of the man everyone’s expected her to love and when she’s feeling bad for what she did to Jonathan and it’s got her all scared of herself.

She’s got you to keep her anchored. You tell her that she’s not her past. That she’s still growing all the time and that she’s blossomed into something so beautiful that you’re grateful you get to see it firsthand. “You’re your own person, Nance,” you remind her. “You love us. We love you. So… Fuck everything else.”

Nancy trusts you and she's not exactly sure if she’s ever trusted anyone before. She’s only ever given pieces of herself away before now, but it’s different with you. You look at her in a way that makes her feel naked, like you can see all of her without really trying, and it feels good to have someone who knows her without her having to say very much.

You sit cross-legged on her bed, absentmindedly nodding your head to the music playing from her small television across the room — a static, technicolored picture that croons “hot dog, jumping frog, Albuquerque.”

She smiles at you from across the checkerboard that sits between you. You’re so cute, she doesn’t even care that you’ve taken two of her red pieces in one go.

She lets you talk about everything you’ve got on your chest and right now, it’s Eddie Munson — an ex of your’s you saw on a coffee run earlier that morning. You tell her how much you’d loved him when you were a teenager, how you wanted to get married and follow him across the world when he made it big with his band.

But he hasn’t yet made it out of Indiana and you’ve settled down with somebody else. Somebodies.

“I remember him,” Nancy lilts with a soft smile, ocean blue eyes concentrated on the board as she calculates her next move. “He was… interesting.”

“He was a total freak, but he was the nicest guy I’d ever met. He was, like, super into rock music and the color black and creepy shit — everything super metal, you know? But he was also really sweet… Like sunshine, kinda. Like Steve,” you reminisce distantly.

“Of course, we picked the nicest one, huh?” she teases you, herself. “Steve is like… good.”

“Like prom king wrapped up in sunshine,” you nod.

“Great bod, too.”

“And stupid handsome… Stamina like a super soldier or somethin’.”

Nancy breathes out a laugh, a sad scoff.

Steve’s been busy with work these days. Trying to make it big at his mom’s real estate firm has been taking up most of his time. She’s glad she’s got you to keep her company, to hold her and to hold you when the days are cold and the nights are colder. But she’s noticed the lack of his presence, both of you have.

He left and pieces of the two of you went with him.

“I miss him,” she admits softly.

“Me too…”

She bites the inside of her cheek when a smile threatens to tug at her mouth. Her lashes touch the bottoms of her bushy brows as her eyes flit to yours, scrunching her nose as she jokes: “We probably shouldn’t tell him, though.”

“Of course not,” you scoff playfully. “Don’t want him to get too cocky.”

As much shit as you both of you like to talk about Steve, behind his back and to his face, all in the name of good fun — you love when he’s cocky. When he’s inside you, fucking up into you with all the strength of a madman, he’s King Steve all over again. Because he’s got something to prove.

With his cock nestled deep inside of Nancy and his tongue shoved inside of you, the only thing he wants to do is make the two of you feel good. And he does. Catastrophically so. When he’s brought both of you to mind-numbing climaxes full of wild moans and shaking limbs, you feel him smirk against your skin while he presses wet kisses to your trembling thighs.

It makes him proud of himself, all smug and boastful. And you and Nancy let him have his fun. You figure that he deserves it after making you feel such an unearthly sort of pleasure.

Out of the two of you, Nancy’s orgasms are most violent. They always have been to a certain extent, but more so with you and Steve. It starts as a low ripple in her lower belly that pops into a full boil. Her muscle tense something fierce, she twists herself into knots and rides her pleasure like a bucking bull on Steve’s cock or your face.

They feel a bit like riptides. They pull her under and drown her, force her to ride each rough wave through rough wave. She digs her manicured nails into Steve’s freckled back or your sweat-slicked shoulders or her own pale thighs while the both of you dismantle her piece by little piece.

You’re more like the wings of a butterfly. Built from the same cloth as her, you still have a simmering anxiety beneath your skin, scared of ever enjoying a good thing, lest it gets ripped away. Rather than fight it like Nancy, you embrace it head on. You let it run over you like hot water, revel in the way it prickles your skin, and then thank them for making you feel so good.

You never had to, though. Thank them. They made you feel good because they liked it just as much as you did, but you felt the need to express your gratitude for it anyway. Just grateful for them and the moment and all the ways you get to share yourself with them.

Steve makes Nancy come with his tongue nestled inside her pulsating cunt and giant hands palming her ass. You kneel just beside him, pressing kisses to the outsides of her thigh, as you pull the hood of her clit taut with your free hand for him. The boy suckles at her swollen button and she cries through it all, hips bucking like she’s trying to run away from how good it feels.

You stay soft; kiss up her thigh and her belly, her tits and neck and jaw. Too innocent for all the filth around you.

She makes you feel good next, even though her legs still feel a bit like jelly. The two of you lie on your sides on the pillows, facing one another, kissing each other breathless. You’ve got one hand beneath Nancy’s head and the other folded behind you, entwined in the strands of Steve’s wild hair. He lays behind you, slicked body pressed intently against your own, while he sprinkles wet kisses to every part of you he can reach.

Nancy touches your pussy with methodical grazes. She runs her pointer finger through the hot slick gathering between your lips and Steve holds you open for her as she dips a finger into the fluttering hole of your opening, adding another right along with it.

“Nance,” you moan sweetly, light as air. Your hips rock slowly against her hand, not nearly as rough as her’s had against Steve’s face. You’re much softer than her. More patient. Your clit presses against her smooth palm and you shiver between the two of them “Shit. Right there.”

The girl revels in your sweet pleas and how your warm walls pulsate around her fingers — the wings of a butterfly indeed. You change color in front of her, from a blotchy red thing to a bright burst of rainbows. You let Steve hold you when you come, let him pet you while the aftershocks of your orgasm make you shake.

Nancy brings her come-soaked fingers to her mouth and admires the taste of you and the way you look pressed against him. You, made of vivid and sparkling colors, and Steve, made of gold and velvet and expensive silk.

Truth be told, she likes to watch the two of you fuck the most.

There’s something about seeing Steve on top of you — tanned skinned and fuzzy chest and tremendous strength. His broad shoulders and slick back tense and ripple while he fucks you in brutal, powerful, diligent strokes.

You’re far more delicate in comparison.

Your moans are light, touches lighter, as you let him fuck you so ruthlessly. Even spread open like this, wet pussy on display for the both of them, you still manage to look so sweet, so innocent.

“Can you lift your hips for me, sweetheart?” he coos, your thigh gripped in one hand while he puts a pillow beneath you with the other. And you, obedient you, abide him. He slips the cushion under you and hits new depths within your fluttering pussy. “Aw, fuck yeah, baby— that’s my girl.”

Nancy’s lying right next to you, on her back, with her fingertips swirling around her clit. Her heavy, glazed-over eyes flit between your fucked out face, Steve’s scrunched features, and where his glistening cock pierces you over and over and over again.

“Grab the headboard, baby,” he tells you, not the most wholehearted of his otherwise glaring demands, but more so advice — the number of times he’s driven his hips too hard against you and all but smacked you into the headboard is uncountable at this point. He punctuates his order with the hearty smack of your ass. The palm of his hand collides with your rounded, slick skin and you keen.

You heed his advice as he hooks your knee up and around his waist. He bends over you to sink his tongue into your obedient mouth. Nancy does the same with her fingers, pushing her fingers inside of her gaping cunt, curling them within her like she imagines Steve’s doing inside your mouth just now.

He eases his cock out of you — inch by thick, soaking wet inc — before plunging right back into you. His hips clap against your own and you squeal inside his mouth, grasping the wooden headboard with enough force to crack the damn thing.

Nancy’s bedsprings creak with every one of his barbaric thrusts. It’s almost as pornographic as the wet sounds between your legs, the wet clicks of his cock pounding so aggressively into you.

Each snap of his hips drives you further and further up the bed and you try to match them, hips bucking against his own in attempts to bring him further into you, to swallow every inch of him.

Nancy does the same with her fingers, imagining it’s your hand or Steve’s cock, as she fucks herself with her eyes locked on where his dick disappears inside of you.

C’mon, Steve, fuck all the way into her, she scolds him silently. Hit the furthest part of her. Make her fucking scream—

“C’mon, Nance,” Steve mutters suddenly, gaze heavy and full of fire when he looks over at her. He plants his knees and picks up the pace, fucking you like a fucking maniac. “Make her come.”

He might as well be superman the way he pistons in and out of you, with both speed and diligence that manages not to feel too fast or too mindless. Sometimes you think he is — superman. It feels like he is sometimes. Whether he’s fucking you within an inch of your life or saving you from a spider in the bathroom.

Nancy smiles lazily over at him, happily removing her soaked fingers from her pussy and putting them on yours.

“Yes, sir,” she answers playfully, having no idea what it does to him. Or maybe she does. Maybe that’s exactly why she said it, to laugh softly to herself when it makes his hips stutter.

The girl slithers closer to you, pressing her naked body flush against the side of yours. She kisses the sweat off of your jaw while her fingers settle beside the place where Steve drills into you. He punches into your pussy again and again and again and she circles your clit with the pads of her fingers with a similar mercilessness.

“Feels good, huh?” she asks you, lips like silk against your cheek.

“Yes,” you answer in a moan before a whine climbs through your tightening through. “’S so good, Nance. So fucking good.”

Steve tosses his head back when his own moans escape the depths of his chest. “Fuck,” he drawls, revealing the chiseled columns of his neck and the sweat dripping down his hairy chest. “You’re so perfect, baby. Both of you. So fucking good for me.”

Nancy smiles to herself, spreading her middle and pointer finger around the puffy lips of your cunt and Steve’s cock, before bringing them up again to pinch your sensitive clit.

You cry. You arch. You writhe.

“Fuck,” you sob, one hand clutching Nancy’s wrist and the other gripping Steve’s tensed bicep as you come something fierce.

Nancy can only imagine the way you convulse around him, choke the absolute shit out of his cock with your tightening walls, because Steve’s done for after that. His rhythm stutters all at once and he whines a low and pathetic whine, going rigid as he presses his hips against yours.

He spills all of himself into your pulsating cunt with a drawled out and nearly feral grunt.

He collapses into your arms and you accept him wholeheartedly, letting him hold you as your hands wrap around his sweat-slicked back. Nancy shows no such patience as she pokes him in the ribs to urge him off of you.

“Move,” she orders suddenly. “Move—”

“Alright,” Steve chuckles at her urgency. He’s not too happy to leave the warmth of you, but he’s in no place to deny Nancy. His hand skates down his torso to cup his softening dick when he pulls out of you, falling onto his side next to you. “Jeez.”

Nancy slithers between your legs. She cups her slender fingers just under your thighs and forces your knees back, spreading you and putting you on display all over again. Your cunt is still gaping from Steve’s cock, still sensitive, still hungry.

You’re far too exhausted to say anything. You just flash her a curious look with pinched brows as you stare down at her through a heaving chest. But Steve gets the hint without a word. He holds his weight on his forearm and uses his free hand to help Nancy, pulling one leg up to spread you further for her, for him.

“Just wanna taste you,” she lilts with a too innocent smile, using one hand to reach between your legs and gathering the honey that drips from your opening — a glistening mixture of your and Steve’s climax. “Wanna taste both of you.”

#published by bug #stranger things x reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington smut #stranger things imagine #nancy wheeler x reader #nancy wheeler smut #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fic #steve harrington #nancy wheeler #stevie drabble #nance drabble #st drabbles #bug's blurb sleepover

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breezeoddity · 1 month

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We all know that the Duffers loved Dawson's creek and probably took some references, so here we are. I'm currently watching Dawson's creek and I didn't see someone pointing it out (If you did, show me to me please, send it to me Rachel).

At the end of the first season we see Dawson and Joey kiss. They're happy they finally did it, they are finally expressed their attraction to each other and at first it seems they'll be fine. Dawson couldn't be a normal person with Jen then maybe with his childhood best friend (That is one thing that combine Byler and Joey and Dawson, when we actually compare Joey and Dawson with Stancy/Mileven). But no, he's just a douchebag. Guess who was supposed to be a douchebag at the end of the day?? Steve Harrington, who escaped his bad guy fate all thanks to Joe Keery.

AND ALSO THIS. Scenes look so similar, even checkered curtains in both rooms!!!

At the same time in this episode Jen's grandfather died.

Nancy and Steve on the second episode of season 1 having a sex scenes while our dearest Barbara fighting for her life on the upside down. Both scenes are about an expression of love linked to death and guilt.

Next episode in the second season of Dawson's creek we have a little kiss scene at school with Dawson and Joey just like with Steve and Nancy in episode 3. But then there is a Jen with news about her grandfather's death and there is a Barb missing at school. Dawson and Joey feeling guilty because of their confession of love or whatever after Dawson rejecting Jen when she lost an important person in her life. Joey also feels like she can't be happy with Dawson because his ex or a girl who was nice to her all this time going through the death of a relative. And then there's Nancy, who worries about Barb and feels guilty for leaving her alone by choosing Steve.

Both of these ships aren't endgame. They're the examples of the first love that doesn't last long not only because of the external circumstances that they cannot overcome due to the fading relationship, but also because people have nothing in common in a couple. Sounds familiar, doesn't it? Yes, milkven, I'm looking at you.

But it's worth always remembering that Jonathan or Pacey or Will may appear after the failure in the context of true romantic love in the life of everyone who wants it.

I can talk all day about parallels between stancy/milkven/Joey and Dawson and jancy/byler/jacey. And I will talk about them there more!!!

#stranger things #stranger things s5 #dawson's creek #jancy endgame #jancy #byler endgame #jacey #jancy analysis #nancy wheeler #joey potter #mike wheeler #jonathan byers #pacey witter #will byers #steve harrington #dawson leery #eleven hopper #byler analysis

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laundrybiscuits · 1 year

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Note: this is not a Stancy story.

“Say it,” he bites out. He’s pushing too hard, being too mean, and he doesn’t fucking care. “Say you love me.”

Nancy’s eyes slide off to the side and she—she laughs, like he’s making a joke, but he can see in the way she’s got her arms wrapped around herself that they both know it’s not a joke.

“Steve, come on,” she says.

There’s a hot, buzzing feeling in him like a hurricane.

The words peel out of him: “But…we’re soulmates.”

He’s gripping his forearm, holding it out in front of him even though he’s wearing long sleeves. It doesn’t matter. They both know whose name is written there in careful, neat cursive, like a puzzle piece slotting next to the blockier name scrawled on Nancy’s wrist.

Nancy reaches out to push his arm down and out of the way, out of her eyeline, but she laces her fingers with his like she’s trying to calm him down. Like an apology.

“Steve,” she says. “Let’s just—can we focus on the important stuff, here?”

This is important, why don’t you think that nothing could be more important than this. Steve doesn’t say it because he’s trying to be better. He can be better for her, for Nancy, his soulmate. So he swallows it down and nods, gripping her slender fingers tight in his.

———

It takes him a while, but he figures it out. It’s fate. It’s gotta be. It’s all a big part of their story, the one they’re gonna tell at their wedding, about the time they broke up and made bad decisions and were really unhappy. When you find your soulmate early, sometimes you have some growing up to do, he’ll say. Or maybe Robin will say it. He can’t imagine a wedding where Robin’s not his best man. Best lady?

It’s so stupid, but there was a moment, back in ‘85, when he thought maybe Robin could be his true soulmate. Like maybe there was some giant cosmic error, and the smart, funny, beautiful girl he’d been overlooking all summer was really the one he was meant to end up with after all.

When she tells him about Tammy Thompson, it’s almost a relief. The universe isn’t wrong after all. He actually feels really sorry for Robin, because without a name on her arm, how’s she supposed to know who to pick? And with the gay thing—it’s gotta be tough even just knowing who’s an option. He doesn’t think he could handle that kind of uncertainty.

It’s a good thing he doesn’t have to. All he’s got to do is hang on until his story and Nancy’s story bend together again, and become their story. He thinks it’s kind of romantic, even: like he’s been given this time to learn to be a better boyfriend.

So he’s in good spirits, especially when Eddie Munson gives him a heavy look that shoots through his veins like lightning and says as unambiguous a sign of true love as these cynical eyes have ever seen. If even Eddie can see it after spending about five minutes around them, probably not even knowing about the soulmate thing, it must be true.

———

Afterwards, he finds himself unexpectedly alone with Nancy in the hospital, waiting their turn to see Max and Eddie. It’s not exactly the stuff of fairytales; even though they’ve had a chance to go home and shower and get some sleep, they both have Upside Down gunk caked into their fingernails and purpling shadows under their eyes. The fluorescent lights overhead are way too bright. The flimsy plastic chairs are digging uncomfortably into his thighs.

But he’s not gonna get a better opening than this quiet moment, with Nancy slumped against his arm, tired and lovely.

“Hey, are you—” He clears his throat and tries again. “Hey, Nancy. Did you…think about, uh, what I said? About…you know. The future?”

She goes tense.

“Yes, Steve. I did.”

Maybe something in her tone should be warning him off, but he’s on this road now, careening down the fast lane with no exits in sight.

“And? What did you think?”

Nancy takes a deep breath, then lets it out after a second in a heavy sigh. “Steve, I…I’m with Jonathan now. You know that.”

“Yeah, but that’s—I mean, you know it’s not the same.”

“No.” She slips a thumb under the cuff of her sweatshirt and rubs it over her wrist. It looks like something she doesn’t even know she’s doing. “It’s not the same, no. It’s…Steve, it’s better. This way is better.”

He ducks down, tries to meet her eye. “Nance, I know I was kind of a shitty boyfriend, but—things are different now, right?”

Finally, she turns to him. Her back straightens, shoulders square, like she’s bracing herself.

“Yes, things are different,” she says slowly. She reaches out to take his hand in both of hers, soothing. “This hasn’t changed for me, though. It’s not about—I just can’t be with you, Steve. Not like that. I’m sorry.”

He doesn’t say but we’re soulmates again like a child, but it lives in his throat, in the thump of his heart. Maybe she just needs more time.

Maybe not, though.

(ETA: continuation here!)

#I wrote the first chunk of this a while ago and abandoned it in my scratchpad; had a chat about soulmates today and decided to write more #ofc this whole thing is also a metaphor for heteronormativity (WHEN IS IT NOT) so I may write the steddie follow-up at some point #I’ve never been the biggest fan of soulmate narratives but I find them fascinating from a meta perspective #I want to be clear that I don't think soulmate AUs are ~problematique; they obviously serve a function #the romance genre (and a lot of fic) hinges on the concept of endgame ships #there's a particular kind of comfort in that and I can see how it translates to in-universe predestination #I am personally just more interested in stories about choosing to love without guarantees #and I actually quite like the complexity of Steve and Nancy learning to navigate being friends as well as exes #not!soulmates AU

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dwobbitfromtheshire · 8 months

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I hate how people twist the RV scene with Steve and Nancy into something bad because rewatching it, it's a very sweet scene. You can see how much Nancy is picturing herself in that dream and how badly she wants it with Steve. She jokes about it being a nightmare with six kids, but she can clearly get behind either one of them changing their mind later on. There isn't any pressure to give up her own dream either.

Nancy: *sweetly* It sounds nice.

Steve: Yeah?

He even asked her again if she really thought it was nice and guess what she said?

Nancy: Yeah.

If you see anything negative about that scene, that's your own twisted mind and I get it as a former Stancy hater, I get it but it's really fucking sweet this go around. And God, I want them to get back together and have both their dreams come true.

#stranger things #nancy wheeler #steve harrington #nancy wheeler x steve harrington #stancy #stranger things s4

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starry-eyed-steve · 1 year

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What do you have against Ronance? It's clear Robin was attracted to Nancy as well as Vickie. Not only that, she jumped off a boat into monster-water for her, for goodness' sake. It's a bad-faith argument to say that people don't ship Vickie with Robin because she's a bisexual sapphic woman. Greatwise/Will and Gareth is not comparable in the slightest as that is a crack ship that never interacted. We DID have scenes with Robin and Vickie, though few.

And I'm gonna be So For Real, more people would ship Rovickie if Ronance was not there. People would devour those crumbs. But why choose crumbs, when you have a potential meal we spent a whole season with?

Okay, so this is really long, I'm sorry this took way too much time. I know I went a bit overboard. If there are any errors, please ignore lmao. Thank you for sending me an ask for a discussion. I also want to preface that I don't hate Nancy as a character, I don't like how she is written in certain situations and that the show overlooks mistakes she makes, and by pointing out those mistakes on her behalf is not me hating on her. Overall, I think she deserves better than what she is given both in the show and fandom.

First things first, Robin didn't jump into the water for Nancy. It was a delayed response after seeing her best friend being dragged under water. She's not as brave as Nancy. If we would apply the same logic, then Eddie would have jumped for Robin because he's in love with her. So no Robin jumped for Steve and should have been the first to do so, but because that scene was used for Stancy later (Eddie giving the speech to Steve in the woods) it had to be Nancy in that instance. It's really bothering me that this scene is so misread because people just don't get Robin's character. Who would you jump for, your best friend you know better than yourself or the girl you met a day ago?

The whole premise of Ronance (platonic or romantic) in s4 was so ooc for Robin, s3 Robin would have never acted the way like s4 Robin did. And I think that has something to do with what I said in the other post. We don't have enough time. There is no conflict when different groups of people come together because the show needs everyone to get along to save the world, and they couldn't elaborate on complex feelings a person might have towards others. So the show made Robin throw herself at Nancy's feet, despite thinking not too highly about her a season prior. Same with Steddie, the OG script was about how Steve and Eddie didn't get along first but it was cut out because there is no time to proper develop new relationships, even tho it would be more interesting. But again, that would mean the show would have to give us more episodes, which is unfortunately not the case.

So you see, I just don't think Robin would have acted the way she did around Nancy based on the character traits she displayed in s3. Furthermore, I will bring up Steve, which is a sensitive topic when it comes to Ronance. I don't want to come off as someone who in general makes a lesbian/sapphic relationship about a man's feelings, however because Steve has history with both girls I can't ignore him because Robin wouldn't either.

A little bit of background of Robin prior to meeting Nancy:

In s3, Robin couldn't stand Steve, and later, we found out why. It had mostly to do with her crush, Tammy Thompson, who had only eyes for him. Yeah, he was obnoxious, and Robin couldn't stand his smugness and arrogance, but the main reason was Tammy and her being kinda jealous of Steve in general because he had no problems fitting in. So she held on to this grudge against Steve for maybe even years. That tells us she doesn't forget when someone has wronged her and maybe, to an extent, her friends. Like she seems to be a person who has your back, no matter what.

Idk if you consider Rebel Robin as canon (I mean Maya narrated the podcast soo I mostly view it that way) but before Barb was Nancy's bff, she was close with Robin and later ditched her for Nancy. That in itself would leave a bad taste in Robin's mouth, and I guess she wouldn't be Nancy's biggest fan. Maybe that's why the priss comment in s3. Again, she had no problem disliking Steve because her crush liked him, but then she does an 180 with Nancy despite Barb being her actual friend leaving her for Nancy. Losing a friend to another person is much worse than a crush you never talked to, not liking you back or liking someone else.

But even if you ignore the Barb stuff and don't think it's canon, Robin still wouldn't be Nancy's biggest fan in the beginning and that has something to do with how Stancy ended and Jancy begun. You have to keep in mind Steve is Robin's bff, one if not the most important person in her life. He's everything to her she trusts him completely. He was maybe even the first person to know she was gay. Then why on earth would Robin A try to befriend Nancy, who broke his heart, and B trying to push her without a thought to get together with him again. It doesn't make any sense to me, based on how Robin was introduced.

Steve may have not any hard feelings for Nancy, maybe he only said positive things about her to Robin because he still views himself as the only person who fucked up in that relationship and not that Nancy was already in love with Jonathan for a while before things ended. Idk where you stand on the whole cheating thing, but it doesn't matter because rumors outside of the relationship would spread. Steve, the most popular guy in school, who is well liked, got left by his girlfriend of 1 year for the school freak, not even 2 days after a public fight. Like people would go crazy and Robin would have heard those rumors as well. You have to admit getting together with a new guy, not even after 48h is, I don't want to say weird, but not very cool, okay? Plus, Tommy would spread extra nasty shit because he hates Nancy and Jonathan and wants to hurt Steve as well. Robin would view her through those rumors, plus Steve having a hard time letting go, being heartbroken about it, there is no doubt in my mind that she wouldn't side eye Nancy.

Those two reasons, Barb and how Stancy ended, are the main ones as to why I think Robin was ooc for desperately wanting to befriend Nancy.

So the way I would have built up Ronance would be Robin being aloof towards her, and Nancy would have been the one who wanted to befriend her in the first place. Nancy never has to work for her relationships with others. People usually make the first move with her, so she never has to give much thought to it. Like Steve still loves her, Jonathan was ready to follow her wherever even if it endangered his family, and Fred followed her around like a lost puppy as well. And with Robin, it could have gone differently. Nancy should have made it her mission to make it up to Robin. Like she desperately wants a friend, she doesn't understand why Robin is being cold to her. By making her the instigator, Nancy would have to reflect on her mistakes and how she treated people, which would finally give her some personal character growth. Plus, it would have made the introduction to Stancy (romantic or platonic) way smoother and more balanced because Nancy never reflected on it. Steve's just available she doesn't have to make it up to him as well. Nancy never really addresses her faults in relationships, and the narrative in Stranger Things lets her off the hook every time. Letting Steve believe he was a terrible boyfriend despite liking Jonathan instead of him? No problem, no consequences. Steve still likes her. In s3 the show was again on her side when she fought with Jonathan by giving her the Karen pep talk, yes she apologized to him but she didn't understand his struggles really because she gave him the don't ever doubt me comment which kinda destroyed her apology imo. Furthermore, as soon as there was a rough patch in s4 with Jonathan, she expected him to come to her instead of going to him and fixing it because she has the financial means to do so, which indicates she still doesn't fully understand Jonathan's financial problems. Also, in general, Jonathan is terrified to tell her the truth, so he gets high to cope. It doesn't seem that he thinks Nancy is understanding.

Again, Robin could have been the person that would have made her realize wait, the way I take people for granted, and sometimes treat is wrong. Instead, we got yet another person instantly liking her and going along with everything she does, so Nancy never had to do anything for it, despite the obvious conflicts that should have arisen when they first met. But like I said before, the show doesn't have much time and focuses more on the plot, so there is no real development for characters, and everyone has to get along. I also think Stranger Things wanted a strong girl duo like Elmax, so they just threw Ronance together without conflict because they wanted to avoid drama, which would take up too much screentime. I can't emphasize the fact that Stranger Things suffers so much because it has too much plot and not enough time. Plus, I believe making Robin angry at Nancy on Steve's behalf would mean acknowledging that Stancy ended in a bad way or that Jancy maybe didn't have this cute start as a romance, but that would also mean recognizing Steve might have not been the only one who was wrong which is simply not possible. When s2 aired and people pointed out hey did Nancy cheat on Steve, did they really break up because a lot of people didn't view the fight in the ally as a break, especially because Nancy mentions she likes Steve at Murray's and Steve went to her house, the Duffers had to confirm it via interviews because I doubt they thought people would sympathize with Steve. Hence, why the narrative only blames him because they wanted the audience root for Jancy.

Long story short, I would have switched roles for platonic Ronance in the show. When it comes to romantic Ronance, that's mostly on the fandom. Everyone is allowed to ship whatever, I personally just don't think they are a good match. I don't see Nancy being patient enough with Robin's neurodivergent ways. She wouldn't handle her rambling over time very well. Nancy gets quickly irrated and snaps. Like Robin already felt the need to explain herself to her, making sure everything is okay because Nancy made her feel like her personality is too much and has faults, like her mom constantly tells her. Whereas with Vickie, she felt immediately at ease when they talked. More of that later. Robin is also poor, maybe a bit better off than Jonathan, but still, Nancy already doesn't get Jonathan's problems. Another reason is that because Steve is Robin's bff, Robin wouldn't want to date her all together. Like she sees Steve still likes her, she knows how much Nancy hurt him to a point that he is serial dating because he has like trust issues, that would immediately turn her off. Robin values Steve's friendship way too much than try to jeopardize it in any way. It's not like Steve wouldn't allow her to date Nancy, I think he would do everything to make Robin happy even if it costs his own happiness. Robin knows Steve. She would know that he would be hurt, and that's ultimately the factor that turns her off. Maya already confirmed that Robin values platonic relationships so much, so yeah. Just think about it that way. How would Robin feel if Steve suddenly would show interest in Vickie and starts dating her? That would be kinda fucked, same goes for Ronance, Robin knows Steve still likes her. I'm also a believer that you shouldn't necessarily date your bffs ex, it's just too messy especially if that relationship ended rather badly.

@findafight had this amazing post about one-sided Ronance, where they described exactly what I'm trying to convey. Nancy is the one interested, but ultimately, Robin declines because of her relationship to Steve. They also have several other posts about Ronance if you want to check it out. Another blog that discusses Ronance and has similar opinions is @thestobingirlie

What I dislike the most is that in Ronance, mostly Robin is only an ounce of her typical character. Her relationship with Steve is downplayed. She makes fun of him with Nancy, she lies to him about her relationship, even asks for sex advice in some fics which is just very weird and so ooc for her to do. Same goes for Steddie, as soon as either Steve or Robin go into a relationship both characters are so ooc, you almost don't recognize them, plus they only have time for their partners and their friendship gets sidelined, which again doesn't make sense for their characters. Ronance is also mostly beneficial to Nancy as it's viewed more how Robin can save her so she doesn't have to end up with a man. Hence, all the posts about how Robin is the only person who gets her, which is also such a shitty thing to say because both Jonathan and Steve were trying. Like Nancy's character development hinges more on her relationship with Robin than doing some soul-searching. Because for real, all her relationships so far are kinda meh because she doesn't know how to communicate properly with her partners, Robin wouldn't magically make everything better because she's a girl. Nancy needs to be single first and discover who she is without jumping in a new relationship. She needs therapy and has to work on her people skills to be a better partner for future relationships.

Also, so many people want Nancy to have a friend, and when Robin comes along, they immediately make it romantic. Robin can still be there for Nancy and understand her as a friend. I don't think she was romantically interested in Nancy in the show. She was actively pushing for Stancy. She only ever talked about being into Vickie romantically. Robin should be allowed to make a friend who is a girl without making it into a romance just because she is a lesbian. Lesbians can have platonic girl friends, lol. Fact is that so many see Robin interacting with a girl as romantic because she is looking at her and then ignore her real crush she talks about all the time.

Now to Rovickie and Vickie. What I meant with people not giving Vickie a chance because she's a girl and interested in a sapphic relationship is a common occurrence throughout fandoms in general. Guys are usually preferred when talking about characters or shipping. Girls have it so much harder. Like with Gareth, I don't think my comparison of him and Vickie was nonsensical or dumb. The fandom had no problems coming up with interesting headcanons for him, even outside the crackship. Almost all the hellfire boys, but especially Gareth because he's the most objectively attractive one of the group, got more love from the fandom. Vickie, on the other hand, is mostly used as the villain in Ronance fics, who is in the way of the main ship. People in general call her boring or too similar to Robin, which is insane because we have one scene where she rambles because she is talking to her potential crush. Also, being similar doesn't have to mean it's bad. Like I mentioned earlier, Vickie rambling is showing Robin it's okay to do so, which makes her feel immediately relaxed because she doesn't have to explain herself to Vickie. Not to mention the biphobia that runs through fandoms. The fact that Vickie had a boyfriend, who she broke up with, was enough. People usually headcanon Nancy as a lesbian than making her bi. Steve's only a bi icon when he's shipped with guys, like him dating a girl is seen as less valued or popular. Again, everyone can headcanon characters sexuality how they like, you do you it's just apparent that characters who are seen as bi are only celebrated for dating a person of the same sex.

Lastly, think about it if Vickie was a guy who was the love interest for Steve, there would be non-stop content for her. She would be well loved within the fandom. But Vickie is a girl, and if she were used as the love interest for Steve instead of Robin, she would also face the same scrutiny the already faces now. She's the villain in the way of ships because she's only a side character and not the full meal like you described. A male characters even with almost no screentime, will always get better treatment than female characters.

#robin buckley #nancy wheeler #anti ronance #steve harrington #stobin #platonic stobin #vickie stranger things #rovickie #rockie #stranger things #sandra says stuff #anon #anonymous #answered

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maria-scribbles · 2 years

Text

meet me at midnight

summary: new year's eve, 1983. a rooftop, an epiphany, and a kiss that changes everything

wc: 5k

ship: eddie munson x f!henderson!reader

warnings: underage drinking, mentions of drugs and smoking, mention of barb's death (rip queen), stancy (eugh), kissing, the reader being jealous and insecure and also kinda stupid.

a/n: writing stancy made me physically ill. i really do love nancy but i'm afraid i wrote her terribly ooc in this ugh. also, do i headcannon eddie as a saxophone player? yes, yes i do. why? no fucking clue. robin's favorite band is named 'blush' after maya hawke's first album.

meet me at midnight

December 31st, 1983

"Sweet dreams are made of this, who am I to disagree?"

You were inclined to, that's for sure.

Annie Lennox's voice booms throughout the house as you tuck yourself further into the corner you've managed to claim, a lukewarm cup of punch in hand. It feels like the entire student body of Hawkins High is here at Tina's party, bodies jostling each other on the makeshift dance floor and spilling down the hallway like an overflowing sink, even trickling outside onto the deck to smoke despite the frosty air.

You shift your weight from one heeled boot to the other and choke down a sip of your drink, wincing at the alcohol burning its way down your throat. Leave it to some thickheaded jock to make a punch that's almost entirely rum, you think as you abandon the solo cup on the nearest shelf and pull your sweater sleeve down to check the time.

It's not nearly as late as you'd hoped, the glowing green numbers reading ten-thirty, and you drop your arm with a sigh. An hour and a half before midnight and an hour and a half way too long in your opinion.

"Having fun?" Nancy's face is flushed as she squeezes her way through the dancing crowd to you, dragging Steve by the hand.

Absolutely not.

"Oh, totally!" Your smile feels so forced you're sure she'll notice and call you out but it never comes, both to your relief and disappointment; once upon a time you'd been thick as thieves, the best of friends just like your little brother and hers, before she'd ditched you for Barb and left you behind in the dust.

Barb, whose body lies in another dimension, frozen forever at sixteen.

Yeah, you're still processing that last part and you were there, standing beside Dustin as Eleven confirmed Nancy's worst fear, heart breaking for your former best friend as she cried into Jonathan's arms.

(Later that night, when everything was said and done and you were safe in bed with your little brother sleeping soundly across the hall was when you cried for Barb, too, a girl who was kind and innocent and undeserving of her terrible fate.)

Your relationship's been on the mend ever since but as much as it hurts to admit, you'll never be as close as you once were and Nancy's inability -or unwillingness, you think bitterly- to pick up on your unhappiness is only further proof.

"Wanna come dance with us?" She asks, oblivious, and you shake your head, crossing your arms to keep her from grabbing your hand because as bored as you are, being a third wheel would be even worse. You already feel bad for crashing their date by tagging along for the drive here, even though they both insisted on giving you a ride.

"Trust me, that wouldn't be pretty. Dusty says I dance like a school chaperone."

Steve bursts out laughing at that and it makes your heart do a little flip in your chest, even as Nancy fondly shakes her head. "Come on, you're not that bad."

"Oh no, I am." You wrap your arms tighter around yourself as someone opens the front door and lets in a freezing blast of air. "Seriously, I'm good. I think I'm gonna go grab some snacks."

"Try the snickerdoodles! I ate, like ten of them." Steve admits that last part pretty sheepishly and the way Nancy stares up at him with the most adoring look in her eyes makes you feel like you're intruding on something private.

You offer an awkward smile in thanks and with a tiny wave from Nancy, they melt back into the mess of bodies dancing along to Cyndi Lauper, leaving you alone once again.

For no less than the fifth time tonight, you wish Robin was here, not halfway across the state visiting her grandparents. While you might've lost Nancy as your best friend in middle school, you gained another: Robin had also been dropped by Barb and so it was only fitting that the two of you became fast friends, not just acquaintances that sat beside each other in the band's trumpet section.

(You miss Nancy honestly, you really do, but sometimes you think being ditched was one of the best things that's ever happened. You and Robin just click, two peas in a pod, and to you, she feels like the sister you always wish Nancy would've been.)

If Robin was here, she would've already made some quip about Steve and his coiffed hair, or Carol and the permanent expression on her face that made her look like she smelled something bad, or Jason and his attempts to impress Chrissy with his awful dance moves, and it would've had you doubled over in laughter.

She wouldn't let you wallow in the corner by yourself, an outsider looking in, both unwilling and unable to throw caution to the wind and just let go. But she's not here, so wallowing it is.

Being kind to yourself has never been your strong suit.

As if the universe is listening, mocking, a gap in the crowd grows just enough to give you a perfect view of Steve and Nancy swaying in each other's arms and you hate the bitter taste that suddenly floods your mouth.

You have no right to be jealous.

You've never admitted your little crush on Steve to yourself, let alone Nancy: how was she supposed to know? You're not even sure if it's all about him in the first place because sure, you think he's cute -you always have- but you get the same gnawing feeling watching Bradley spin Tina around the room in a playful waltz or Nate stealing a kiss from Georgina under the mistletoe still hanging in the doorway and you can barely tolerate either of those idiots.

It's all so terribly confusing.

Steve twirls Nancy under his arm and then dips her low to the ground, her delighted laughter reaching your ears even over the pounding music and something ugly blooms in your chest. You make your escape before you can do something stupid like cry, weaving your way across the living room and down the hall toward the kitchen with your head down.

…Which is precisely how you end up head butting one of your classmates directly in the chest when you turn the corner.

They give a soft 'oof' of surprise and you're absolutely mortified when you realize it's a boy, not just from the tone of his voice but from the toes of his white Reeboks bumping into your boots.

The same shoes you've heard keeping time in band every day since seventh grade, tapping along to the beat on the riser behind you with the rest of the saxophone players. The same shoes you see at the desk in front of you in third period English, still tapping along to the music that's always running through his mind, accompanied by the furious scribbling of a pencil across paper as he jots down lyrics for a new song.

You wince and keep your head down, hoping he'll just act like nothing happened and go on his merry way and just when you're about to think you're in the clear-

"Ow. You have a hard head, Henderson."

Shit, you think. Of course you had to literally run into the one person you feel like you can't speak two words to without making a complete fool of yourself; something about Eddie just makes you flustered beyond belief and you really wish you knew why 'cause it's, to put it frankly, annoying.

Really fucking annoying.

"Shit." You say out loud, quickly looking up to meet his big brown eyes before glancing away and staring at the zombie adorning the front of his Iron Maiden shirt instead. "Sorry, wasn't paying attention."

"No shit, Sherlock." He teases but there's no trace of malice in his voice, just amusement, even as his ringed hand comes into view and rubs the spot where your forehead crashed into his chest. "You okay?"

Embarrassment burns your face and you cross your arms defensively, firing back with a weak insult you're sure he can see right through 'cause if there's one thing you're good at, it's looking like an idiot all day, every day.

"I'm fine. You're not looking very festive, Munson."

He snorts in laughter and you finally gather the courage to meet his eyes again, only to find him already looking down at you with something behind his gaze that you can't quite figure out.

"I think you're festive enough for the both of us." He gestures to your deep navy sweater dotted with bursts of silver thread that give the illusion of stars. "You look really pretty, by the way."

Your brain short circuits.

Pretty? You're wearing your mom's sweater and Eddie thinks you look pretty?

You're too busy trying to get your mouth to work as the silence stretches on -you'll take a 'huh?' at this point, or maybe even an unintelligible squeak, just say something, you moron- to notice the pink blooming high in his cheeks and the way he speaks in a rush, the words all jumbling together so fast it's hard for your frazzled mind to understand what he's saying.

"-your help, so keep watch, okay?"

Keep watch?

He turns and strides into the kitchen without another word and you end up following a few seconds later, after you've finally recovered enough to get your legs working, at least.

You find him standing by the big bowl of punch, rummaging around the array of bottles littering the island, every so often picking one up to inspect before putting it back in its place with a shake of his head. To your surprise, it's not more alcohol he finally picks up but a two-liter of Sprite and at last you get your mouth to work as you blurt out, "What the hell are you doing?"

"Fixing this shitty ass punch." He's not even phased by your sudden question, save for the quick smile he sends your way as he pours the entire bottle in. "Have you tried it? Jesus, Jan would be disgusted."

You cross your arms and lean your hip against the counter, keeping an eye on the door just like he'd asked. "I have, unfortunately. Who's Jan?"

"Bartender at the Hideout." Eddie throws a reply over his shoulder as he digs around in the fridge, yelling triumphantly when he finds whatever he's looking for. It turns out to be a can of pineapple juice and he dumps that in, too, turning the blue punch a pretty shade of green. "My band plays there on-"

"-Tuesdays, I know." You interrupt without thinking and rush to explain yourself, almost tripping over your words when he turns his curious gaze on you.

"Um, there's this all-girl band Robin loves, Blush. We go see them sometimes and end up staying to watch you guys, too, because you're really good-" You pause at the smile slowly growing wider on his face and shake your head. "-but you already knew that, didn't you?"

He shrugs, still grinning like the Cheshire Cat as he stirs some cherries into the punch, then dishes out two cups and pushes one across the island to you.

"Yeah, I see you there a lot. You're kind of hard to miss when the rest of the audience is just five old drunk dudes."

Your laugh rings in the cavernous kitchen as you push off the counter to grab your drink, tapping it against his when he holds it out toward you.

"Cheers."

You're not sure what to expect when you take that tentative first sip but it's definitely not something sweet and smooth with just the right amount of fizz, the burn of the rum still present but not as overpowering as it was before.

"Okay, so I don't know how you managed to make this shit taste good but you did."

Eddie sweeps into a low bow and you hide a smile behind your cup at his theatrics. "Thank you, thank you. I do accept tips, you know, and all proceeds go directly to Jan so she can buy herself a car."

You smile wider and take another sip. "I'd love to donate but I left my purse at home, I'm afraid."

He clicks his tongue in mock disappointment before leaning forward across the island and waving you closer, dropping his voice to such a low whisper you would've had to move in anyway to even hear him.

"How about I make you a deal, Henderson? Come watch us next Tuesday, slip Jan a twenty, and I'll play a song -any song- just for you."

"Ooh, tempting." You whisper back just as quietly, tapping a finger against your chin even as a weird feeling takes hold in your stomach at his offer. "Any song I want? How about-"

"Hold on, I take that back. Any song but 'September.'"

Your jaw drops. "How'd you know-"

"Because I hear you humming it every day in band, that's how."

"Oh." How the hell does he know you hum that song when half the time you don't even realize you're doing it? You've annoyed Dustin enough to know it's true, after he told you in no uncertain words. "How about I make you a deal? I give Jan thirty dollars and Corroded Coffin covers Earth, Wind & Fire."

He stares at you for a beat longer before slowly breaking out into a smile. "…I'll think about it."

You've always know he has a pretty smile, catching glimpses of it across the cafeteria from where you sat with Robin and the rest of the marching band or in crowded hallways as you rushed to make it to your locker in between classes, but having its full force directed right at you knocks the very breath right out of your lungs.

"it's not a no, so…works for me." You say, propping your chin in one hand and swirling your cup in the other, watching the opaque green liquid spin around like the center of a hurricane. "Why'd you have me guard the door, anyway? I wouldn't call making this sludge drinkable very deviant of you."

"Please," Eddie scoffs, mirroring you exactly. "'Resident metalhead spotted adding mixers to the jungle juice?' I can't trash my reputation like that."

"No, never." You huff a laugh under your breath. "You'd be ruined."

He laughs, too, and you're not sure when it became so warm in here but it's making you want to roll your sweater sleeves up to your elbows.

"See! I knew you'd have my back, Henderson."

The more you think about it, the more you realize you always have. Every time the rumor mill paints him in a bad light, you're there to put it all to rest with nothing more than a perfectly directed scowl because you like Dio, too and wear black nail polish and occasionally play DnD with Dustin and his friends when they need a sub and no one's ever accused you of worshiping Satan for fuck's sake.

If any of them would bother to look deeper than the surface, they'll see what you do, that he's kind and sweet and caring and you know because you've seen him prove it with your own eyes: driving the rest of the Hellfire Club home if they didn't have rides, sticking up for the freshmen when the seniors decide to be cruel, and even now, witnessing him first hand try to raise money for a coworker to buy a car (granted that method might be called borderline manipulation but still, at least it's for a good cause).

"'Course I do." It's both too simple a statement and more than you ever wanted to admit and the way he's staring at you feels different, somehow, different and yet not unwelcome as you stare right back…

(Has he always had that dusting of freckles across his nose?)

…which is why you end up putting your foot in your mouth without even realizing it. "That's what friends are for, right?"

"Right, yeah."

Something flickers behind his brown eyes but it's gone before you can put your finger on it and he's smiling that smile again, pointed canines on full display as he hastily nods and straightens, downing the rest of his drink in one go.

"Do you have the time?" He sheepishly holds up his bare wrist. "Forgot my watch."

"Oh, sure." The sudden change of subject nearly gives you whiplash as you push your sleeve up to check. "Almost eleven fifteen."

"No time to lose, let's go." He grabs a napkin and swipes a few cookies from the counter, tucking them away into the pocket of his leather jacket.

"Go where?"

"You'll see." Eddie nods his head toward the doorway and holds out a hand, silver rings catching the harsh kitchen lights. "C'mon, you trust me?"

"Against my better judgement." You tease and his laugh is downright devilish when you take his hand anyway, letting him lead you out into the hall.

You're not prepared for the warmth of his palm or the rough, calloused touch of his fingers or how your hand looks so small in his as he expertly weaves through your classmates milling about until you reach the bottom of the stairs, pausing just long enough to make sure the coast is clear before dashing up to the second floor.

"Are we even allowed up here?" You whisper and while the little conspiratorial grin on his face doesn't do much to ease your mind, the quick squeeze he gives your hand somehow does.

"Nope!" He leads you down the dark hallway with practiced ease, opening the last door on the left before pulling you inside and softly shutting it behind you both.

"I feel like a delinquent." Your quiet voice echoes in the large room, clearly Tina's from the Hawkins High cheer uniform hanging on the closet door and the over abundance of pink, and he snickers as he drops your hand to grab a blanket draped over the desk chair.

"Live a little, Henderson!" He opens another door, this one leading out onto a moonlit balcony -Jesus, you knew Tina's family was rich but come on- and holds it for you as you step outside. It's just beginning to snow, specks of white drifting down silently and forming a barely there dusting on the railing and you hold out your hand to catch one, watching as the tiny flake instantly disappears from the heat of your palm.

"C'mon, I'll give you a boost." Eddie says, tossing the blanket up onto the section of roof that's just a bit lower than the others.

"Don't tell me you shoot webs from your wrists." You joke, warily eyeing the spot even as you step forward and stand in front of him, grabbing the edge with both hands.

"Nah, I couldn't handle the responsibility of being Spider-Man." He moves closer and hovers his hands over your sides. "Still trust me?"

You nod.

"Can I touch you?" His voice is a low whisper in your ear and when a shiver runs down your spine, you blame it on the sudden gust of wind, nothing more.

You nod again.

His hands are big and oh so warm as he places them on your waist and before you know it, you're lifted onto the roof without so much as a warning, the rough shingles cold against your knees even through the thick denim of your jeans.

Holy shit, he's strong.

You don't even get the chance to offer your hand as he pulls himself up with an almost casual grace and spreads the blanket out, each step he takes so confident and sure, like he's done it time and time again.

"So, you sure know your way around Tina Williamson's roof." You carefully crawl closer and take a seat beside him, close enough that the length of your body is pressed right up against his to ward off the cold.

To be fair, you're also the slightest bit terrified of somehow falling right off the edge and it's like he reads your mind when he shuffles even closer and rests his arm along the curve of your back, not quite touching but near enough that you just know he'll catch you.

"Found out I could climb up here two years ago and-" He explains, pointing off somewhere beyond the back yard in the vague direction of town. "-it's got a killer view of the fireworks."

"It's peaceful." The sounds of the festivities have faded to nothing more than a faint thumping of bass and the occasional burst of laughter floating up from the smokers on the back deck. "So for the last two years, every party Tina's thrown, you've just been hiding up here?"

"More like escaping." Eddie shrugs and stares ahead at the snow-covered trees. "I don't even want to come to these things and I'm only invited 'cause I deal. Once these rich kids get their stuff and I get paid…no one really cares where I go so I just do what I want."

You care.

"All by yourself?"

He nudges you with his shoulder and when you turn to face him, that same look from earlier is behind his eyes, the one from the hallway and the kitchen that you still can't quite figure out. "You're the only person I've ever brought up here."

"Really?"

It's cold, the snow starting to fall a little bit heaver now, and yet you're so, so warm under his gaze as he nods, the corners of his mouth turned up ever so slightly in the softest smile you've ever seen from him.

It's like hot chocolate on a snowy day or a cozy blanket on a cold night, safe and warm and feeling more than a little like home.

"I'm trusting you with this, Henderson. Don't abuse your power."

You smile and duck your head, pulling your sweater sleeves down further over your cold fingers. "Wouldn't dream of it, Munson."

You'd nearly forgotten all about the cookies hidden in his jacket pocket until he nudges your arm and hands you two, one of his own hanging out of his mouth and you realize they're the snickerdoodles Steve had told you to try.

For the first time, the thought of him doesn't make your stomach twist or your chest hurt. Honestly? You don't really feel anything in particular, other than the fact that he has damn good taste in desserts as you take a bite of your cookie, perfectly baked and covered in just the right amount of cinnamon and sugar.

No wonder he ate ten of them.

You finish eating in silence but you don't feel the need to fill it with anything other than the sound of your breathing; Eddie doesn't either and for who knows how long you sit side by side, watching tiny snowflakes lazily fall from the sky. They dot his dark hair with spots of white and a laugh slips from your mouth before you can stop it.

"What?" He turns your way and you just shake your head as you reach over and brush some flakes from the ends of his curls.

"The snow in your hair, it kinda looks like powdered sugar."

"Oh, so you think I'm sweet?" He waggles his eyebrows and you laugh so hard you have to lean on his shoulder to keep from falling over. The arm he has resting behind you's now fully pressed against your back and it feels like a live wire running along your spine.

"I never said that!"

"But you implied it." Your breath catches as he gently brushes some snow from your hair as well, the warm, calloused pads of his fingers glancing along your face. "And good thing 'cause I think you're sweet, too."

You suddenly get the feeling you've missed something very very important as you scoot away just far enough to turn and face Eddie fully. Down below, your classmates flood out onto the back deck to wait for the fireworks as the new year approaches but you could care less, all of your focus right in front of you on big brown eyes and tiny freckles and a beautifully devastating smile.

"Me?" You speak quietly into the cold air, the question forming swirling white wisps that float above your heads for a fleeting second before disappearing into the night.

You could elaborate but you don't have to because you know he knows exactly what you mean as his hand hovers in the air between you for a long moment before he finally reaches forward and tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

"I thought I was being obvious." He says, a red hue coloring his cheeks that you know now is definitely not from the cold.

"Why?"

"Why did I think I was being obvious? Henderson, I'm gonna play Earth, Wind & Fire for you!"

"No, why do you…why me?"

It makes him pause, a gentle furrow to his brow, and the way he says your name so softly makes your heart skip a beat.

"Because you're you."

A minute to midnight is a pretty fucking weird time to have an epiphany but you've never had good timing.

"Oh."

It's like something just clicks, the last piece of the puzzle you didn't even know you were trying to solve slotting into place and it all makes such perfect sense you're not sure how you didn't see it before.

"I know you're into Harrington," Eddie says hastily, eyes darting away from yours for just a second before they come right back, wide and honest in the dark. "And I get it if you never want to speak to me again 'cause I just made things super weird but-"

"I'm not into Steve."

You don't know how he makes confusion look so cute but he does, eyebrows knit together and making a little wrinkle in his forehead that's just visible under his bangs. "You're not?"

"I thought I was but…" You trail off as more and more people flood outside, their voices loud and full of excitement as the countdown begins. "Turns out I'm falling for someone else and I finally figured out who."

"Ten, nine, eight."

You scoot closer, sitting on your knees so your face is level with his when you reach out to brush some more snow from his hair, letting your fingers graze over his cheek like the ghost of a kiss. "Sorry it took me so long to catch up."

"Seven, six, five."

"Oh. It's okay." He sputters, a brilliant red flush slowly crawling up his neck like ivy. "I mean, I've liked you for a while now, ever since you joined the band when I was in eighth grade-"

"Four."

"-and you sat in front of me with your trumpet, wearing a Judas Priest shirt and I-"

"Eddie?" You interrupt because as much as you want to hear the rest of his story, you've got a more important thing on your mind.

"Three."

"Yeah?"

"Two."

"Please stop talking."

His jaw snaps shut almost comically and he watches with those wide eyes of his as you slowly cup his face in your hands.

"One."

The clock strikes midnight. The first firework shoots off from downtown and explodes in a brilliant flash of shimmering gold in the inky black sky. And you lean forward and kiss Eddie Munson.

The fireworks overhead are nothing compared to the ones you feel when he responds to your kiss with one of his own, his lips soft and sure under yours as he wraps an arm around your waist to pull you closer.

He tastes like cinnamon sugar, spicy and sweet, and you can't get enough of him, of his warmth and his fingers sliding into your hair and the noise he makes low in his throat when you part your lips under his.

Kissing him is addicting, intoxicating. It's all you've ever wanted.

He's all you ever wanted.

You were just too blind to see it.

He's all you can see now when you finally part, all swollen lips and flushed cheeks and a smile that would've taken your breath if you had any left to give. The fireworks are long over but you don't even care that you missed the whole show as you lean forward to press your forehead against his.

"So, eighth grade, huh?" You ask and Eddie nods, rolling a strand of your hair between his thumb and pointer finger.

"You were humming 'Highway to Hell' and had holes in your jeans. And when I heard you talking about learning to play DnD for your little brother? That was it for me."

"I was nervous when I first joined band 'cause I had trouble staying on beat. I was so scared they were gonna kick me out." You say and when a snowflake lands on his cheek, you wipe it away with your thumb. "But I heard you tapping your foot behind me and you helped me keep time. Without you, I don't even know if I'd still be playing."

He tucks your hair behind your ear before taking your cold hands in his and bringing them to his mouth to kiss your knuckles, his touch so soft and sweet it makes your head spin.

"Your hands are freezing."

"I don't want to go home yet."

You could stay like this forever with him and when he leans forward to press his lips to yours, you know he feels the same.

"Where to then?"

He's never looked more beautiful to you, his pretty brown eyes blown wide and full of affection and reflecting the shimmer of the stars overhead and a slow smile creeps onto your lips when you weave your fingers between his.

"Surprise me. I'm all yours."

An adorable pink blush sweeps across his nose as he pulls you in for another kiss and you know without a doubt you're speaking the truth.

You know you mean every word.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #stranger things #eddie x reader #eddie stranger things #eddie munson imagine #joseph quinn #my writing #tag check

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timetobeaghost · 7 months

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Stranger Things Endgame ships

Jopper 110%

No happy ending without Jopper, not even a bittersweet one. Mom and dad.. Solid as a rock. Forevvva!!

Byler 100%

Might be under Jopper, but still a solid 100%. Iconic, legendary, best thing about the show. Will improve the rewatchability of the show by also 100%! Literally people will gasp when watching S1 after finishing S5. GASP!

Duzie 95%

They gave Dustin the perfect girlfriend. There is no reason to take her away.

Rockie 90%

Obviously happening, as promised in S4. I guess one of them could die, but not likely. Or they could kiss but somehow separate in the end? Very unlikely.

Lumax 85%

I wish they were higher, but I'm not fully convinced she is going to be okay? I really hope they are endgame and I believe so.

Jancy 48%

Could be endgame. I just don't know. It doesn't feel like the resolution of their arc? Jonathan wants to go to that one specific college and be free of his responsibilities, just live for himself for a while and thrive. Nancy feels like another responsibility to him to go to some other college and whatnot... Nancy wants to go to her specific college and pursue a career. What does Jonathan add to her dreams? Both were relieved not to see the other at Spring break even though they love each other, you know? Yeah, sry, I hope they are not endgame. (Better than Jonathan dying tho!!!)

Stancy 10%

I don't think so, as you can tell from the percentage, but I guess they could go crazy to be surprising or something. Please not! Steve deserves real love too and not "I guess you are not as dumb as back in the day and your chest is not bad at all"

Steddie 5%

I'm surprising myself, but I guess the possibility is above 0. No real reason why not. Sure Steve is straight and Eddie is dead, but would you bet a limb on either of those facts? It would be kinda unserious, so I strongly doubt.

Mileven 0%

But I secretly love them and they are canon, so they get a pic. Hope there will be lots of sad Mileven edits for my viewing pleasure post S5! They so cute! Lookatmypookies! Cuuute. And doomed.

#and everything else is below 0 #stranger thinngs #stranger things 5 #byler #jopper #lumax #duzie #rocvickie #elmike #my beloved #stranger things predictions

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avengers-rule103 · 10 days

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i've seen people say that if Nancy had been able to say anything in the upside down to Steve's confession if Robin hadn't interrupted that she would've turned him down, and i've seen it put as a bad thing, but 1: i agree and 2: i don't think it's a bad thing. i think she's just not ready yet. the first reason is that obviously she's still in a relationship with Jonathan, but i also think she's just not ready yet. and i know i'm a broken record about it at this point, but i think all of the stancy moments we got (for the love of god rewatch season 4 - don't make me reiterate every single one) plus her realizing the upside down was stuck in the year of season 1, specifcally when her and Steve had been studying together and Vecna bringing up both Barb's death, and her sleeping with Steve saying "remember what you did", she has to get through her trauma surrounding Barb first, and that can only happen with Steve because while he wasn't the cause of it, that and their relationship was so intertwined. Nancy feels guilty that she didn't go home with Barb, that she slept with Steve while Barb was murdered, she blames herself and some part of her probably blames their relationship from back then even if she doesn't specifically blame Steve. so yeah, i also think she would've turned him down. But i don't think it would've been for a lack of wanting him, for wanting to try again. i think it would be from the blame and fear and pain that she still carries and has pushed down and run away from for so long now. if anything it shows that her story isn't finished yet. this isn't where she ends.

#steve harrington #nancy wheeler #stancy #stranger things

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kennahjune · 9 months

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Some Platonic Stancy + Mike for The Heart

Nancy Wheeler, who cuts her hair short for the first time in 1984 and keeps the short hair going for the next three years until Ted Wheeler makes some bitchy comment on women with shirt hair.

Nancy, not usually the one to people please, ignores the comment. She and Mike both get them often from Ted, shit about Mikes hair being long and hers being short. So she ignores them.

Until their mom joins in with the comments, however subtle they may be.

So, Nancy starts growing her hair out. Mike, however, goes about his life with his hair. He’s never home long enough to really care about the comments— always at the cabin or with the Party somewhere.

Enter the year 1988, and Nancy has successfully grown her hair well below her shoulders. It’s pretty. She gets compliments on her curls and beautiful brown color all the time.

But she hates it.

She fucking hates it.

Three years of having her hair shirt had gotten her used to having it off of her neck. And now that it’s so long, well…

Nancy Wheeler has never had a problem with sensory issues. That was more Mike’s thing— always having to cut the tags off his clothes and downright refusing to eat certain foods— but her hair on her neck makes her want to vomit.

And sure— she can simply put it up, keep it in a high bun and off her neck.

But just the knowledge of it being there makes her sweat. Makes her want to itch the skin off of her neck.

She feels bad for making fun of Mikes hate for tags.

Now, enter year 1989 pursued by Steve Harrington, fresh out of cosmetology school.

Steve had been doing his own hair since he was little and sat with his mom and grandpa at the vanity in their dressing room (because of course the Harrington’s have a dressing room). He’d sit and watch as his mom curled her hair— or straightened, depending on her mood. He’d sit in his grandpa’s lap as he showed little Steve all the different products and tools, letting Steve chip in and help style his hair.

It was a passion handed down from Steve’s moms side, the love for hair. And he planned on finally doing something with it— even if it wasn’t exactly what his parents wanted. (Though they learned to live with it— he did start his own hair salon, after all.)

Now, where does Steve play into this scene?

Well— it starts on a Tuesday afternoon in late July.

Steve Harrington had been cleaning the house while listening to his dads old records on the dingy record player in the living room. The knocking was barely heard over the volume, even with how frantic it was. The only reason Steve— who had lost most of his hearing in his left ear— heard the knocking was because whoever it was nearly knocked a picture off the wall.

So he opened the door to Mike and Nancy Wheeler on his front porch.

Mike looked almost bored, but he gave Steve a smile and a ‘hello’ before dragging his sister in by the arm.

Nancy looked worse-for-wear; her eyes seemed sunken and the eye-bags were darker than he’d seen them in years. He hoped it wasn’t new nightmares.

“Come on in, I guess,” Steve grumbled while Mike made himself comfortable in the living room. He wasn’t actually mad, just playing into a running bit he’d had going on with the mini Wheeler for nearly two years now.

“Watch it, Harrington.” Mike pointed at him. “You’ll loose a paying customer.” But the kid was smiling wide.

Steve scoffed. “‘Paying customer’ my ass, Wheeler! You barge into my home, make me trim your hair, call me an asshole and leave!” Steve himself was grinning wide.

Mike waved him off but Steve heard the giggle he failed to hide.

Nancy stood awkwardly on the living room carpet in the button up she’d stolen from Robin, white tank top, and cut-off jean shorts. She’d been taking a bit of fashion tips from Eddie recently. She found she liked the denim a lot more than skirts in the summer.

Steve finally gave her his attention.

“Hey Nance! What’s up?”

Nancy felt herself relax with the easy smile Steve gave her. She cleared her throat.

“Um— well, Mike said you trim his hair for him every once in a while and I know you just finished school and everything so—“

“You want a haircut?” he cut off her ramble. He and her both have picked up the rambling habit from Robin. “It’s about time, Wheeler. The long hairs cute and all but… so… not you, oddly enough.” He stood with his hip cocked and a thoughtful hand on his chin supported by the arm wrapped around his middle.

Nancy sighed roughly through her mouth and dragged a hand down her face.

“Oh my god, you don’t even know! I can’t stand having it so long— it’s so itchy and scratchy and annoying and not to mention high maintenance! Like yeah it looks good but seriously what is the point other than pain?”

Steve snickered and Mike threw his shoe at her to get her to stop.

“Come on you two, the dressing rooms upstairs.”

In the dressing room, Mike was sat at the vanity first. Steve had gotten Nancy a glass of water and told her to sit on the couch at the back wall and relax.

She tried her best, sipping the water and enjoying the view of the woods in the backyard from the window next to her (even if those woods held darker memories than they should).

She examined the room closely while Steve scolded Mike for using Ted’s shampoo/conditioner (because of course the bastard uses a two-in-one) while Mike pleaded he was desperate after running out of his own stuff.

The floor was tiled for easy clean up, the only carpet being the one under the couch Nancy sat on. The couch was plush leather, the cool touch a welcomed change from the July heat. The walls were a baby pink so light it almost looks white, covered in well-placed posters and photos and even stickers that were stuck on.

The vanity and the couch weren’t the only furniture in the room; a coffee table in front of the couch, a small two-drawer dresser next to the vanity, and nice, tall dresser back by the door. There were plants on the windowsill, flowers in pots on the dressers.

The windowsill was one of those fancy ones that Nancy liked so much; the ones that were like seats with drawers/cabinets underneath. The seat was decorated in an abundance of pillows and blankets.

It was a cozy room, and Nancy found herself zoning out and finally being able to ignore the invading bun on the back of her head. She tuned out the boys’ bickering and just stared at the window. Not through it. Not in it. At it. Examining each speck of dust on the glass and staring her reflection in the eyes.

Until a hair fell loose from bun and tickled her neck. And she almost threw her water at Mike who had sat next to her in her haste to get it off.

“Hey, hey! Nance!” Steve grabbed the water and Mike placed his hands around her neck, effectively stilling her and calming her.

“Hey, yeah, over here.”

Nancy looked at Steve. She kind of wanted to throw up.

“How about we finally get ride of all that length, yeah?”

She’d never heard a better question in her life.

Nancy told Steve to do whatever the hell he thought needed to be done. Steve told her he’d go to just above the shoulders and she agreed.

Mike took a spot on the windowsill, reaching into the cabinet underneath and grabbing a very worn book. Nancy hadn’t realized how much Mike came over to Steve’s before.

“Mike you’re seriously reading that again?” Nancy heard Steve ask. Watching him in the mirror, she saw him never look away from her hair once as Mike replied with a bitchy,

“It’s a good book! I thought you liked The Outsiders!”

Nancy snorted. Of course it was The Outsiders. Nancy remembered watching it with Mike, Will, Dustin and Lucas in the basement of their house when it first came out in March of ‘83.

“I didn’t know you liked The Outsiders, Steve,” she remarked. Nancy saw a red blush ride to his cheek in the mirror.

“It’s a good movie,” he muttered defensively.

Mike snickered. “Yeah— he watched it for the plot. The plot meaning shirtless Darry and half-naked Soda—“

Nancy thought Steve was going to chop her ear off and with how fast he turned around to yell at Mike.

Nancy herself sat cackling in the chair, watching Steve get defensive over his junior year fictional crushes.

When all was said and done, Steve gave Nancy a new shirt from the closet in the dressing room (that she failed to notice earlier). It was a simple yellow dress shirt. Steve said it was one of his moms. She was sent to shower and told to use the shampoo and conditioner on the third shelf in the bathroom.

When she had finished and walked back downstairs to meet the boys, Mike had already changed from his simple t-shirt to a black tank top with a dark blue buttoned flannel. Everyone kept clothes at Steve’s except Nancy, it seemed.

She made her way to Steve and sat her old shirts on the couch. With her hands free she pulled Steve into a bone-crushing hug. Steve was quick to reciprocate, wrapping his arms tightly around her waist.

“Thanks so much,”Nancy whispered into his ear. “This helped me so so much, Steve.”

“Anytime, Nance. You know that.”

And she did.

When Nancy and Mike left the Harrington house with a wave to Steve and a promise of letting him know what everyone thought, Nancy had never felt lighter— both physically and mentally.

That night, Nancy slept like she hadn’t in years.

Her hair wasn’t to bad on her neck with the new length. It wasn’t making it itchy or scratching at her cheeks wrong.

She didn’t have to have her mom braid it before bed to keep it away, ultimately ending up with a headache the next day because she could never sleep with her hair up.

No. When Nancy Wheeler went to bed, she woke up feeling refreshed and energized. No rash on her neck from scratching at it in her sleep.

When Steve heard about this later that same day, he pulled her into a hug and promised he’d cut her hair as much as she needed him to.

Nancy felt much better than she had in years.

And if she got Mike that sparkly, purple D-20 he’d been eyeing in the shop? Well— consider it a thank you.

#stranger things #steve harrington #mike wheeler #nancy wheeler #platonic stancy #platonic #mike and steve bonding time #but throw nancy in as well lol #I have this same problem with my hair #so it’s just more self-projection #mike wheeler with long hair #nancy wheeler with short hair #hair stylist steve harrington #steve harrington doesn’t have really bad parents #this time at least #ted wheeler is useless #and I hate him with a passion #wheeler siblings #cause i love them

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