#steve and nancy

[loveinhawkins]

ao3

Eddie falls asleep in the back of the RV. Steve watches it happen in stages, after the stop at The War Zone—driving a little further out for a food shop, away from prying eyes.

He announces that the coast is clear when the roads become reassuringly empty. For the first time in days, he relaxes into the rhythm of driving: he’s triple-checked that no-one’s tailing them, and if it weren’t for the hastily bought weapons, he could almost pretend that…

He glances at the rearview mirror, sensing movement. It’s Eddie, standing up from where he’d been huddled against the back of Steve’s seat. He looks like he’s relishing the freedom to stretch his legs—Steve thinks, with a pang, that he’s probably sick of hiding—and takes his time on his way to the back seat.

Keeps his balance for the most part, only stumbles once, briefly latches onto Robin’s shoulder with a sheepish smile, says something like, “Role reversal, Buckley,” and she laughs.

He settles with the kids in the back. Clearly tries to give them the most space, folding his legs awkwardly in the corner almost like he’s already back to hiding again, but they won’t let him; Dustin wiggles along to create more room, and Erica pins Eddie with a look—the most Steve can make out is, “You look like a…”, but whatever she says makes Eddie snort, then smile with obvious affection.

The next time Steve looks to find Eddie’s reflection, he’s relaxed into his seat, legs stretched out in front, the edge of one sneaker bouncing up and down absent-mindedly—but growing slower and slower.

He’s talking to Lucas, the speech drowned out by the RV engine; Steve can still see how it makes Lucas relax in turn, even giggle, which has been an all too rare occurrence lately. How Max, despite carrying the heaviness of the Walkman, looks on with a spark in her eyes.

If Steve had to guess, he’d say that Eddie doesn’t mean to fall asleep. Maybe it’s the motion of the RV or the angle of the sun through the windows. Maybe it’s just that he finally feels safe.

Either way, his blinks get longer and longer, and then he’s drifted off, out completely, and Steve watches with something close to pride as the kids all get off the bench in silent agreement—Max confidently lifting Eddie’s legs and swinging them up onto the cushions like it’s second nature. He barely stirs, head nodding a little until he’s lying down properly.

Steve splits the last of his cash with Nancy on the food. They make a trio with Robin for heading to the store, the kids on what they’ve dubbed ‘Eddie watch’ and what Steve has dubbed, “Yeah, I’ve left it running—that still means no driving unless, like—actually no, I’m not even gonna—yeah, Dustin, I’ll get you more Pringles, Jesus Christ.”

And because he’s weak, he still ends up caving to Max’s loophole that yes, if demodogs and/or bats and/or people that just look at them funny show up, she’s got permission to floor it; he’s not gonna tell her he’d scoped the place out well before he’d parked.

Ten minutes later, laden with bags, Nancy says, “We could use somewhere with more space. For…”

She indicates the supplies of a more grim variety than snacks.

Steve thinks about it, then exhales with a little laugh. “Yeah, I’ve got somewhere.”

Robin eyes him curiously. It’s like she’s heard through the laugh, can somehow feel the thing that wells up in the back of his throat—only for a second; he’s used to pushing it back.

She squeezes his shoulder. He pats the back of her hand before driving away. Sometimes words spill out between them, ever flowing. Sometimes they don’t need words at all.

There’s a strange kind of thrill in feeling the tires go right over the grass. Feels bigger than what it is—like something’s finally been unearthed.

They’re all quiet as the group starts to filter outside. Steve looks over his shoulder: Eddie is still fast asleep. His lips move every so often, drowsy half-formed words.

Steve wonders what he’s dreaming about. He hopes it’s something good.

He lets everyone go in front of him—Robin snatches a bag of food out of Dustin’s hands, whispering fondly, “That one’s mine, you animal.”

Nancy hesitates just outside, then turns back into the RV to sit on the step.

“It’s just…” She tilts her head to the side with meaning. “I don’t think he should wake up alone, you know?”

Steve nods. “Yeah, me too.”

And that’s how they end up sat together, half in the RV and half outside. Nancy dangles her feet above the grass—she could reach it, of course, but it seems deliberate, like she’s enjoying the breeze.

Or trying to, at any rate: there’s still a restlessness to her, an anxious pinch to her face, like she’s one step away from jumping to her feet and—

Steve squeezes her knee—hears the way she exhales, like she’s finally caught her breath.

“Food first,” Steve says gently.

She nods belatedly, like the words take a little while longer to reach her. “Food first.” She rustles through one of the bags, brings out something wrapped in foil. “Robin said this is for you…?”

Steve chuckles. It’s a sesame bagel: bacon, egg, and cheese.

He gives half to Nancy.

They eat in companionable silence—just listening to the breeze and the occasional shout of laughter: Robin’s formed a circle with everyone up ahead, a chaotic game of duck, duck, goose, which is a ridiculous choice because her run is ridiculous, and Steve feels his cheeks ache with a smile at the grass stains already on her shirt, as Dustin and Lucas pull her down in some kind of duck-goose uprising, and Max gets Erica up on her shoulders, joining the fray; and underneath it all, he can hear Eddie hum slightly in his sleep, but it’s not a noise of distress—like he knows subconsciously that he isn’t alone.

“Here,” Nancy says.

When Steve turns to her, she’s got a packet of chips open between them. Salt and vinegar.

He doesn’t mean to say it out loud, but—

“You remembered,” he says through a rush of affection; it hits him square in the chest.

Nancy smiles. “Can never forget you and Mike fighting for the last packet.”

Steve knocks their knees together. “Yeah, he fought dirty.”

They laugh together, hushed but heartfelt.

There’s a streak of ketchup across Nancy’s face that she hasn’t bothered wiping away. She looks years younger somehow—looks lighter, like the food in her stomach has settled something intangible.

Her smile turns even softer, thoughtful, and warmth settles behind Steve’s eyes.

I’m sorry, he thinks. I’m sorry I couldn’t be what…

You never deserved to hurt.

“Did you get changed in the dark?” Nancy says, eyes bright with mirth.

It’s so sudden that it startles Steve right out of his thoughts, a welling emotion halted.

“Excuse me, Nancy Wheeler?” he says with a faint grin.

“Steve Harrington,” Nancy returns teasingly. She ruffles a hand through the back of his hair with easy affection, “There. That’s more like it.”

“Am I presentable now?”

“Oh, you’ll do.”

She rests her chin in her hand, just considers him—but it’s a gentle kind of look. Almost like they’re back in English class, and he’s just answered a question without stumbling over his interpretation, and he glances across to her desk, finds her watching him with pride.

“You suited the denim,” she says sincerely. Mimes how he’d shrugged into Eddie’s vest.

Steve feels touched in a way that he can’t fully place, like she’s said something else. Maybe she has.

“Thanks,” he says.

They both look over to the field at a cry of victory. Dustin’s found the stash of 3 Musketeers, holding it aloft like he’s just won a science trophy.

“Hey,” Nancy calls, laughing, “at least one of those is mine!”

Steve can feel her shift, about to stand, and impulsively, he says, “Nance, wait.”

She’s stood already in the split second it took for him to speak, but she turns back.

Steve stands up. Hugs her.

He tries to put all he doesn’t know how to say into it; he does his best, pressing a chaste kiss to her temple. Thinks of how he swept her into an embrace next to the school lockers, her surprised shout of laughter, if you can be this for her, she’ll be happy, you’ll be…

And maybe she’s heard some of it, because her hold tightens around him, like she’s saying, you never deserved any of it, either.

She pulls back. Claps his shoulders to make him sit back down, and they both giggle slightly, both vulnerable. Nancy’s eyes are shining at the corners. But Steve knows they’re the good kind of tears.

He feels them, too.

Nancy nods, smiling wide, blinking in quick succession before the moment’s gone.

He nods back.

And then she’s running over to Dustin, and it almost looks like she’s flying, like she’s sixteen years old again, and nothing ever…

Steve has to close his eyes for just a second. Breathes through it.

Minutes pass before he catches a change in Eddie’s breathing—hears him shift and sigh as he stretches.

Steve tilts backwards, just enough to see Eddie slowly drifting awake on the bench.

“Hey,” Steve says as soft as he can, so Eddie can go back to sleep if he wants; so it can just be part of a dream.

For a moment, it looks like that’s exactly what Eddie will do. But then his eyes find Steve’s, and they light up in recognition.

And he smiles. Sits up.

“Shit, did I really…?” The rest of the question’s lost to a yawn, and he stretches again, rubs a hand across his face to wake himself up.

“Yup,” Steve says. There’s one last bag by his feet, which he picks up to put in Eddie’s view. “This has got your name on it, man.”

Eddie sits down next to him. Steve shifts closer as he hands the bag over, feels the gentle press of Eddie against his side, the warmth left over from sleep.

Eddie whistles at the assortment of food. “Thanks, Steve.”

“Yeah, no—like, thank Dustin, not me.”

Dustin had rattled off a list of Eddie’s favourites—“Actual food this time, Dustin, he’s not surviving on just cereal, it’s depressing,”—which Steve had written hastily on the back of his hand.

He knows that Eddie’s seen the evidence of the list on his skin, faded as it is from the dying pen he’d used, because he smiles when he says, “Mm-hmm, I will,” like they’re sharing a secret; and then he looks off into the distance, squinting against the sun with a hand over his eyes, barks a laugh. “Besides, he looks kinda busy, uh… I don’t actually know what he’s doing. Killing Buckley, maybe?”

Robin’s joking yell punctuates Eddie’s words; it looks like she’s somehow recruited Lucas over to her side, because Dustin’s trying to flatten the pair of them; Erica’s got Dustin’s thinking cap on backwards, while Max shouts, “That’s a foul!”; Nancy’s sat crosslegged, eating candy and throwing out words of amused encouragement.

Eddie chuckles so fondly. He eats some of his share, then sighs with contentment. He stands but doesn’t go far at all, drifts over to a patch of ground like he’s drawn to it. Sits down. Runs his hands through the blades of grass and flowers, even the weeds; it makes Steve smile.

He follows.

They sit close to each other almost like they’re still sharing the step, even though there’s more than enough room to…

Eddie keeps watching the roughhousing. His eyes crinkle at the corners. He looks… happy.

He sighs again, leaning back a little, “This is nice. Who’s idea was it to come here?”

“Nancy’s, really,” Steve says.

But he can tell that Eddie notices the evasion—there’s a barely perceptible twitch of his eyebrow as he listens. He’s getting almost scarily good at it, Steve thinks, but it’s not done in an intimidating way; it’s not like Eddie wants to catch him out in something. It’s more like he… just wants to know. Like he cares.

“But you knew a spot?” Eddie prompts.

“Yeah, I…”

Steve could still avoid it—could just say carelessly, ‘cause we drove past it, duh, and Eddie would let it drop, he knows he would. But…

“I came here when I was a kid. Like, years ago. It was summer, and I think the car broke down or something? So we had to wait for…” Steve shrugs, but it’s just movement for the sake of it, trying to conceal the way his throat’s tightening in slow increments. “It was… I liked it,” he adds. Nods towards the kids. “I thought they might like it, too.” He tries to laugh, “Guess that’s kinda stupid to—”

“I think it’s sweet,” Eddie interrupts firmly. “This place, it’s…” He smiles at Max’s squeal, Lucas lifting her up in a bridal carry. “It’s perfect, Steve.”

Steve tries to smile, because it is perfect, but that suddenly makes it hurt all the more. He’s gripped by a fierce, desperate urge to seize the weapons and burn them, to just let everyone fucking rest, to tell them they don’t have to do it anymore, they never have to—

“Steve,” Eddie says, soft, dismayed—sitting up and touching Steve’s hand where it rests in the grass, so delicately, so kind—

Steve swallows; he must not have pushed it all back in time. He doesn’t want to know what his face looks like, but he can guess, can feel the telltale burn in his eyes—and wavers on the brink. Almost falls. But he catches himself, only just, and when he’s forced to quickly swipe at his eyes with the back of his hand, he reasons that it’s okay. Only Eddie can see.

Still, he should—

“Sorry,” he waves a hand, tries to laugh at himself again, “just ignore me.”

When Eddie smiles, it looks as if he’s only doing it because he’s taking his lead from Steve. His eyes speak for him—like he’s thinking, you’re breaking my heart.

“Ignore you? Shit, man, that’s hard. Have you seen you?”

It’s said with a ridiculous amount of theatrics—so obviously done to lift Steve’s mood. But there’s a note of sincerity that Steve can hear above everything; Eddie isn’t hiding it.

Perhaps he doesn’t need to, either.

“I’m more than just a pretty face, Munson.”

He expects Eddie to laugh. And though he does, it’s quieter than he’d expected, and he says, “Oh, I know. Trust me.” He’s looking at the kids as he speaks. “They’ll be okay, you know.” He doesn’t say it like a platitude. He says it like a promise. “Wheeler, Buckley… me. We have them, too.”

And Steve doesn’t know how Eddie could ever accuse himself of cowardice. God, if you could only hear yourself, he thinks.

“I don’t want—I know. I know you do. I just—just wish—”

His voice fails him.

Eddie tilts his hand, palm up. Steve could act like he’d never seen it all. It’d be easy.

He takes Eddie’s hand. Breathes, and tries again.

“I just wish we didn’t have to—”

It’s as far as he can manage.

Eddie squeezes his hand. Murmurs, very gently, like a memory, “And so do all who live to see such times.”

Steve doesn’t need to ask. He can feel the weight of it through the words alone. Focuses on Eddie’s touch, the way his fingertips brush against Steve’s knuckles, over and over.

And then Steve lets go, but not before squeezing Eddie’s hand in return. Twice. He doesn’t know Morse code, but he hopes he’s understood.

He watches the kids play again. Glances over to the side when he feels another touch, Eddie’s shoulder briefly skimming his. This time he can tell it’s accidental; Eddie’s swaying a little where he sits.

“Shit, sorry. It’s the sun, it’s,” he yawns, “it’s making me…”

Steve’s reminded of the boathouse; of Eddie’s sunken face at Skull Rock.

“You’re just exhausted, Eddie,” he says.

He stands, briefly places his hands on Eddie’s forearms, tries to shield him from the worst of the vertigo. He feels Eddie jump beneath his touch, a forcible jolt back from the edge of sleep. Visceral.

Steve’s chest hurts.

“Wait there,” he says. “I’ll be right back. Hey, try to not fall asleep just yet, ‘kay?”

“M’not,” Eddie says, not very convincingly.

When Steve returns with a pillow from the RV, Eddie is lying in the grass, flat on his back. One hand floats in front of his face, fingers curling like he’s playing guitar chords—like he’s doing it to keep himself awake.

“Dude, that can’t be comfortable,” Steve says. He bends down, taps Eddie on the forehead, which makes Eddie blink slowly, looking at him upside down. “Can I…?”

“Yeah, whatever,” Eddie says softly. It sounds like I trust you.

Gently, Steve cups the back of Eddie’s head, moves it up ever so slightly and puts the pillow in between him and the ground. Eddie settles onto it with a sigh.

Steve moves away, sits back down; Eddie turns to lie on his side, facing him. His cheek presses into the pillow, one leg bending a little, like this is how he lies in bed; there’s a fragile vulnerability to the sight.

The sun draws attention to the grass in his hair. The slightest trace of freckles underneath his eyes; they’ll come out more in summer, Steve finds himself thinking. He wants to be there to see it.

It was summer when he first thought a boy was pretty. That day the car broke down, but his dad was laughing, making the most of it; he’d walked and walked to buy ice-cream and returned victorious to the field, where Steve was waiting with his mom.

They weren’t the only families there—the spot had been much busier years ago: people using it as a pit stop on road trips, Hawkins locals mixed in with folks from out of town, so it felt like the whole world was to be found here, stretching out before them in the grass.

Steve had seen the boy playing tag—it was over in barely a flash, but he still remembers how he held his breath when their eyes met, without understanding why.

He’s pretty, he’d thought, it was the only word he had for it—an instinct from his mom teaching him words, bouncing him on her hip, oh, Steve, look at the pretty flowers.

He’d known even then it was a thought he couldn’t share—like how a child comes to know that they’re not to touch a hot stove.

He’s pretty.

Steve could tell himself that he doesn’t know why he’s remembering it now. But it would be a lie.

Eddie’s tugging idly at the grass, but his hand keeps going slack, twitching with oncoming sleep.

“You know how t’whistle with ‘em?” he asks clumsily.

His eyes are closed. Steve stills his hand, slips a blade of grass out from his loose hold.

“No,” he says, drags it through his teeth like he’ll miraculously make it whistle just by doing that.

Nothing happens, of course; the grass tastes just a little sweet on his tongue. He takes it out from in between his lips and lets it go, to be lost on the wind.

When the taste dissipates, he misses it.

“Yeah, me neither,” Eddie says, amused. His voice is lilting with exhaustion. “My uncle tried to teach me once, but I couldn’t… maybe ‘cause… still had some of my baby teeth… maybe that makes it harder?”

“Maybe,” Steve agrees quietly. He picks some grass out of Eddie’s hair, as lightly as he can. “I’ll ask him for some tips.”

Eddie smiles at that. “He’ll like you,” he says.

He’s half-asleep, Steve reminds himself. He hardly knows what he’s saying.

But he can’t help feeling pleased at the thought.

“Oh, yeah? You think so?”

“Mm-hmm. He likes…” Eddie yawns. “Likes everyone I like. And I… I really like you.”

It’s said so easily. Like it’s simple.

Maybe it could be. Just this once.

Steve feels emotion creeping up his throat, resting heavy on his tongue. This time, he doesn’t push it back; he speaks through it.

“I really like you, too,” he whispers.

Eddie hums sweetly, like he’s heard even when almost all the way to dreaming. “Think there’s a trick to it,” he mumbles, and Steve realises he’s talking about whistling again, lost to a childhood memory.

Stay there, Eddie. Rest.

“A trick?” Steve says in hushed tones.

“Yeah, I… remember he’d… he’d say…”

Eddie falls asleep mid-sentence.

Steve watches him. Angles his shoulder to create shade, shielding him from the sun.

He looks over at the kids: they’re playing tag with Robin now, Nancy joining in—a little quieter, like maybe they’d seen…

If he unfocuses his eyes just slightly, he can almost see his dad coming over the hill with the tubs of ice-cream. His mom smiling, sunburn on her shoulder, and Steve hit with a wave of inexplicable sadness, like he already knew, she’ll never be this happy again.

Eddie sighs in his sleep.

Steve feels a subtle change in the sun on his skin, the afternoon dying.

Stay, he thinks. Mouths it with childish hope, stay, like he’s still the boy who fell asleep right here, in between his parents, wanting the day to stretch on and on—the one who couldn’t outrun the feeling, even then, that he was coming to the end of something.

[onedreamonelife]

SOMEONE FOUND THE PICTURES OF STEVE AND NANCY!! HES SO BF

[stancyler]

Steve Harrington and Nancy Wheeler.

[ilovetwig]

I always think it's funny that people call Nancy dating Steve "forced conformity" because that's literally the first time we see Nancy doing something that SHE wants to do. Without anyone else telling her what to do. Like she's so excited about it, but she's also worried what people are going to think since people view her a certain way and by dating Steve, it goes against the image that people have of her. So she tries to hide the relationship and hide that part of herself from the world. But being with Steve is something SHE still wants to do!!

The real forced conformity is when she starts dating j*n because that is so much more aligned with what people expected from her. It's also because a lot of other people TOLD her to be with him because it's what THEY wanted to see from her. Honestly, why do you think she puts up with so much of the stuff that j*n does to her...she's literally trying to make things work because she thinks she has to make that relationship work since it's what OTHERS want from her.

[ghostofsasha]

“Your lips, my lips…apocalypse.”

(Apocalypse - Cigarettes After Sex)

…They kiss so passionately.

[harrington-love]

Happy Friday Stancy is endgame everyone say amen

[mvltifxndomchaos]

Steve: You love the pink ones.

Robin: I love the color pink. But I like the chocolate macarons. Steveee! I've already said I wanted these two.

Steve: No. You can't have two.

Robin: But I said...

Steve: You had three this morning.

Robin: I have not!

Steve: Downstairs. I saw you.

Robin: I've had one!

Steve: Not true. Eddie saw you. You’re lying. Why are you lying?

Robin: I am not lying. You are. Eddie!

Eddie: What? I like the chocolate ones as well. I have not had...

Robin: I wanted them!

Steve: I have the solution.

Nancy: Put them back. Stop.

Eddie: Why are you getting involved?

Nancy: Can you not just divide them?

Steve: ...three chocolate this morning!

Robin: I have not! I haven't had...

Nancy: Three banana macarons for the one chocolate.

Robin: Not a chance.

Eddie: That is devious.

Steve: That's very unreasonable.

Eddie: Please!

Steve: Why not? Eddie, you cannot... Why are you getting involved?

[fics-and-quotes-andthelike]

Nancy Wheeler: Wait, what does it feel like when you sense Vecna?

Will Byers: Do you ever feel bugs on you when really there’s nothing there?

Dustin Henderson: That’s not Vecna, those are the ghosts of the bugs you killed before.

Will Byers: …..

Nancy Wheeler: …..

Everyone else: …..

Steve Harrington: Goddamn it, Dustin

[peter-pantomime]

Ok but Steve genuinely feeling like he’s on good terms with Nancy and is completely fine with their break-up, and telling Robin for years now that it just fell apart and that honestly probably all the problems could really be traced back to him (not channeling what he’s heard his mother talk herself into feeling at all or anything), and just sort of giving Robin his conclusions and his version of events rather than an actual, neutral description of what really went down.

And this all being a fine and good and stable shared understanding of events until Robin like, seriously expresses an interest in or is actually on the cusp of dating Nancy, and then suddenly Steve is overwhelmed with this “oh no don’t do that!!” feeling.

And he feels terrible and confused because he’s figured out he doesn’t love Nancy anymore, he understands that they’re better off as friends, and so it’s not like he’s jealous or something, and he still cares about Nancy deeply and he wants more than anything for Robin to be happy, so why does this thought make his gut churn?

And finally, he’s able to articulate that he doesn’t want Robin to get hurt and he’s afraid she’s gonna get blindsided and heartbroken and made a fool of, all these things that he was fine having been done to him and just accepting, but can’t bear the idea of Robin being stunned with or made to feel like are her fault. Steve only able to realize he’s super fucked up by his relationship with Nancy and everything it made him feel and believe about himself when he gets perspective on it by watching someone he loves be put at risk of going through what he experienced.

And from this, him and Nancy finally acknowledging that what they’ve been pretending was friendship for a few years now was just the sort of polite, casual, small talk kind of relationship you have with a coworker or neighbor that let them skate over the discomfort and sadness and awkwardness left unresolved under the surface. Them both finally being able to actually talk about what they tried to be for each other and what they asked of each other and how they hurt each other equally, sometimes on purpose in these head-on collisions and sometimes just by not being the right fit for each other in sideswipes and hit-and-runs.

Them finally holding themselves accountable by being their truest selves around each other, not who they thought the other wanted them to be or who they could use the other to let themselves pretend to be, and actually seeing each other, fresh and raw and honest, and from that, all of them starting on a genuine path towards love and friendship that can actually last.

[moonscarrabbit]

Super happy to know Stranger Things is back in Dead By Daylight. Really regretted not buying it before it went. Really glad to have it now. DBD feels like DBD again

[jazy3]

We’ve got a new podcast episode out today and it’s all about Stancy! This one is for the shippers! What ship would you like us to cover next? Vote below and click the link above to listen!

[loveinhawkins]

The problem is that a part of Steve knows the spider isn’t real.

But it’s the suggestion of it, right? Cobwebs in his hair, movement just out the corner of his eye; it’s all enough to convince him that there’s something crawling on his skin, to let out a panicked whisper to Nancy, there was a spider. It’s a black widow.

He tries to disregard it as a one-off. It’s an old creepy house. Just got him spooked for a bit, that’s all.

But then… diving into Lover’s Lake. Bats biting into his flesh. Overwhelming dizziness.

Nancy wrapping torn strips of clothing tight around—there’s something crawling, crawling underneath his skin, no, there isn’t, no, there—a bike ride through The Upside Down; one hacking cough, pushing through it, pushing through it—

Swallows it all down. Ignores the sweat, the tackiness around his bandage. Shh. Calm, calm.

Drives the RV. Doesn’t know how he’s even moving, is just grateful—grateful that his mind on autopilot seems to still function.

The War Zone. In and out. Parked. Sun in his eyes. Kids outside.

The feeling comes back. Something. Something under his skin. (In his blood, in all of him—)

“S’there something in my hair?” he asks Eddie, who’s mid-step out of the RV.

Eddie turns back with an air of amusement. “Nope,” he says. “Looks perfectly coiffed to me, man.”

“Can you—can you just check?”

Look closer, something’s wrong, something’s wrong.

“Uh, sure,” Eddie says, bemused. He sits next to Steve and tilts his head before lifting a hand uncertainly. “You want me to, uh?”

“Yeah, thanks. Just… there was a spider on me.”

It’s not what Steve wants to say at all, but there’s a sudden, terrifying disconnect between the thoughts in his head and what actually comes out of his mouth.

“Oh, you don’t like them, huh?”

Eddie’s not even teasing, just sounds understanding; he lifts up a few sections of hair carefully, taking his time. He’s so kind. Steve abruptly wants to cry.

“Yeah, I don’t blame you,” Eddie continues. “I have the same thing with mice. The way they move. Creepy little feet.” He shudders dramatically.

Steve wants to laugh at that. Can’t.

Eddie runs his fingers through Steve’s hair a couple more times, gentle.

You don’t have to, Steve thinks. Make it hurt. Get it out. Did you find it? Please say you found it.

“Good news, you’re officially spider-free, Harrington.”

Eddie claps him on the shoulder, stands up.

Steve doesn’t move.

Eddie pauses again, halfway out the door. “Hey, you okay?”

“Yeah,” Steve says. “Just need some air.”

He goes through the motions of prepping for the fight. Chats with Robin. She talks about a terrible, gnawing feeling, and he wants to scream yes, I know, I know, but he can’t tell her, why can’t he tell her?

Shh. Calm, calm.

Drives the RV. Forest Hills.

He brakes with no warning, sends bottles of alcohol rolling across the floor. He’s mad suddenly that they didn’t smash. He’s so—

Slip away.

Eddie’s trailer. Lets himself in.

Bathroom.

The wound on his stomach pulses. He doubles over the toilet. Throws up.

His skin is crawling.

There, in the back of his mind, a creeping coldness. A thought that is not his own.

I will kill them all. And I will make you watch.

Oh, God. Oh, God, he’s been so stupid.

-

Eddie finds him first.

He picks up one fallen bottle of alcohol before a gut feeling pulls him out of the RV—because Steve Harrington is a good driver, and he’d only brake like that if he had no choice.

“Steve?”

But Steve’s not waiting for them on the porch, he’s not even by the Gate.

Clattering; a strangled cry.

Eddie’s stomach lurches.

He runs towards the noise, opens the bathroom door and is instantly hit by the acrid smell of vomit.

“Steve! Jesus Christ.”

Steve’s pushed up against the cistern. There’s a damp patch all across his stomach, and his chest is heaving.

“Oh my God, Steve, what’s—”

Eddie reaches for him instinctively, and Steve flinches as if he’s been struck.

“No, don’t!”

“Jesus, you’re burning up,” Eddie whispers, drawing his hand back; Steve’s skin is feverishly hot, slick with sweat. He looks around frantically for a cloth, turns on the cold water. “Gotta get you cooled—”

Something slams into him; he’s pinned against the sink, Steve’s hand clamped around his throat.

“No,” Steve repeats. “Don’t.”

“Okay,” Eddie manages. He chokes on a swallow. “S-Steve, you’re—you’re—”

His hand flails, trying to pry Steve’s fingers off.

Steve’s grip loosens ever so slightly. His eyes are wide, bloodshot. Pleading.

“Eddie,” he says through gritted teeth. “You need to hurt me.”

With the last of his strength, Eddie gets his knee up and jabs—it’s barely anything, but it works enough to break Steve’s hold.

Eddie staggers; his back slams against the door. He’s shaking.

Steve stares at him. He’s gripping onto the sink so tightly that Eddie thinks it’s a miracle that it doesn’t crack.

And then there’s a horrible, guttural noise like Steve’s started to choke too, like he’s at war with himself.

Barely audible, he says, “Get… get Nancy.”

Eddie runs.

He nearly falls into Nancy as he opens the front door. He’s breathless, can’t think of what to say, save from—

“Wheeler, he needs you.”

It happens in an instant: Nancy’s brow pinches, and then she goes very pale, and she’s shouting for Robin and Dustin to stay in the RV, like she can turn on a dime, launched into an unknown crisis.

She pushes past Eddie, and he follows her, back into the bathroom.

The cold water is still running.

Steve’s got his hands in the sink. He looks at Nancy desperately.

“S-stop me.”

Another choking sound is ripped from Steve’s throat; Eddie realises that it’s actually a dry sob.

“Nance,” Steve says. It’s half her name, half a pained whine. “Fuck. I’m sorry. I—I know everything.”

And then he’s suddenly launching towards them—it’s only the fact that he’s so completely freaked out that makes Eddie move in time, saves him from getting strangled again.

He grabs Steve’s wet hands, pins them behind his back and tries to hold him still.

“Jesus! Wheeler, what the fuck is going—”

“Do you have anything that can knock him out?” Nancy says.

“What?”

“Drugs, Eddie!”

“Are you crazy? There’s no way—oh my God, what are you—”

Crack.

Nancy’s grabbed the cistern lid, brought it down upon Steve’s head. Eddie looks at Steve lying eerily still on the floor in abject horror.

There’s blood in his hair.

Eddie feels sick.

But Nancy just watches, as if to confirm that Steve’s not moving. She looks Eddie in the eye.

“Come on. That’s only gonna work for so long.”

Eddie just follows her out, too shocked to even attempt speaking.

It’s chaotic at the RV; Dustin sees them coming, leaps out of the door as Robin yells at him.

“Where’s Steve?”

“Get back inside.”

“Nancy, where the hell is he?”

“We can talk inside.”

“Bullshit, I’m—”

“Dustin, he’s Flayed,” Nancy says, her voice breaking, and all the fight goes out of Dustin at once.

“No, that’s—he can’t—”

Eddie finally finds his voice. “Can someone tell me what the fuck you’re talking about?”

Nancy doesn’t speak, not until they’re in the RV, the door locked behind her.

“I think it’s the—the bites—”

Robin swears, a hand over her mouth.

“Flayed?” Eddie persists.

“The Mind Flayer,” Dustin says numbly. “It’s what we—it’s a part of The Upside Down. It—it used Will to… to spy on…”

“And what, it’s—” Eddie swallows. “It’s inside him?”

“Like a virus. He’s part of the Hive Mind,” Nancy says.

Eddie’s knees feel weak.

“Fuck,” Dustin says. “He knows where we are, he’ll know—”

“It’s too late to change that,” Nancy says. “We just have to—at least someone needs to stay with him.”

“I will,” Robin says instantly, eyes blazing.

“Me too,” Dustin says.

Nancy glances at him, shakes her head—firm but apologetic. “You can join Erica.” And as Dustin opens his mouth, no doubt to argue, she adds, “I’m sorry, Dustin. It’s just—we might need to… to fight him.”

Dustin doesn’t reply, but looks so utterly devastated that Eddie wishes he’d insisted on diving first, that the bats had torn into him instead.

“Keep him warm,” Nancy tells Robin urgently. “And I don’t mean just—it’s got to be unbearable.”

Robin nods, ashen-faced.

Nancy catches Eddie’s eye. “The one thing that fucker can’t stand is heat.”

She paces up and down the RV, checking for stray bottles. Then she comes to a stop right in front of Robin.

“He—he might beg,” she whispers. “And it won’t—it’ll sound like him. Like he just wants the pain to stop.”

Robin’s eyes look glassy. “Nance, I don’t—don’t know if I can—”

“I’ll do it,” Eddie says.

He feels everyone’s eyes on him, but he just looks at Nancy, at the determined set to her jaw.

He doesn’t know when he made the decision, if he can even pinpoint a conscious moment of thought—but now that the words are out, he feels the vow he’s made, deep in his chest.

Nancy hands him a bottle and cloth.

A lighter.

She fixes Eddie with a piercing look. “It’s going to look like you’re killing him,” she says.

Eddie nods.

He turns, offers Robin his hand.

“C’mon, Buckley. Let’s get that bastard out of him.”

[dreamfinder83]

My favorite thing is when people talk about how us Stancy fans need to rewatch the source material to figure out our ship makes no sense and our ship will never happen but then they tag ships like Ronance or Steddie like … should I tell them?😂

[stancyler]

A picture of her steve

[ilovetwig]

I think it's very evident what type of people the guys in the love triangle are like when it comes to Nancy. We have Steve, who when he saw that Nancy was choosing Jonathan over him in season 2, he encouraged her to go with Jonathan, supported her choices, and was understanding of her decision to move on from their relationship. He told her it's okay. He did some self-reflection and worked on himself after learning from his experience. It was painful for him to let her go, but ultimately he loves her so much that he just wanted her to be happy and if that meant letting her move on and her being with another guy, then he wasn't going to get in the way of her happiness. Then we have Jonathan, who is so bitter about Nancy choosing Steve at the end of season 1. At the hotel, he tells her that she only waited around a month or so before getting back with Steve, and that she should have waited around longer than that. Waited until he wasn't so busy with Will and his mom. Waited until he was ready. He would rather have her wait around and be lonely and unhappy than to see her with Steve. He was okay with being selfish and wanting to keep Nancy only for himself, even if there was a chance where Nancy could be with someone that could comfort her and try to make her forget her pain. We've gotten to see exactly what these guys are like from the beginning and honestly, I would rather have Nancy be with someone that was selfless and really wants to put her happiness first.

[harringtonlovers]

COME AND GET YOUR LOVE | STANCY

chapter 6

“ meet the harringtons ”

ao3

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The rest of the weekend went by in a flash. Nancy had woken up Saturday morning, head pounding and eyes sensitive to light. She had to stay in bed for the whole weekend, ignoring her schoolwork as much as she could. Eyes hazy and full of regret, Nancy knew that this would backfire somehow, someway. Chrissy Cunningham would make it known that Nancy had gotten drunk.

The worst part was the fact that she couldn't remember everything. All she could recall was when she walked away from Steve at the party and felt the weight of Steve Harrington on her body as she lay in bed. Of course, he wasn't taking advantage of her. The boy was simply putting the covers over her body so she could sleep peacefully.

Steve had helped Nancy up the water spout, put her in bed, and let her sleep for the night. She stayed put, vague memories of the night creeping into her mind. Saturday morning, she woke up to a call from the devil herself: Robin Buckley. Robin had cursed Nancy out, telling her to never walk away ever again. Nancy felt like she was getting scolded by her mother, which only made her more depressed.

On top of that, Steve hadn't called her at all. He didn't attempt to talk to her or ask her if she was doing okay. It was depressing, really, that Nancy even cared about Steve calling. She just thought of it as more of a respect thing. She figured that he was off with Chrissy, leaving Nancy in the dust to go back to the party. But she tried her best not to jump to conclusions.

That's why, on Monday morning, Nancy didn't even try to look presentable. She went from trying her best to not giving a crap about her outfits. Instead of a more put-together look, Nancy decided on a simple look: her favorite pair of Levi Jeans with a long-sleeved white henley. She layered a pink cardigan on top, as well as her usual pair of white sneakers that she found at a garage sale years ago.

Her hair was normal, down and cascaded. Nancy's eyes remained dull, bags still hanging below. She tightened her grip around her backpack, staring out the window of the car as her mom drove her to school. Nancy let out a shaky sigh, scared to make a peep. Her mom had no idea of Nancy's acts at the party, especially how she got home and the state she was in. The last thing Nancy wanted to do was worry her mom. "Hey, mom?"

"Yes?" Her mother replied.

Nancy bit down on her bottom lip, chewing on the cracked skin. "You think it's normal for a guy not to call...even after he said he would?"

Nancy's mother didn't answer, thinking for a moment. "He said he would?"

Nancy sighed, looking down at her lap. "Kind of? I mean...it was implied?"

"So, he never said he would call you."

Nancy looked at her mom, mouth open trying to form words. Instead, she had to tell her brain to calm down to prevent from spilling some secrets as to why Nancy thought she deserved a call. "No...I guess not."

Nancy's mother sighed. "I wouldn't stress about it, Nance. You're a beautiful girl who's going to find a great guy someday. Okay?"

All Nancy could do was nod. Before she knew it, they had pulled up to Hawkins High School. Nancy looked out the window, a bubble forming in her chest. Her eyes softened, seeing Steve from a few yards away. Giving her mom a quick thanks, Nancy was out of the car and onto school property. The girl shut the car door, listening to the screeches of the tires as her mom drove away.

Nancy peeled her eyes away from the car, staring at the school. Her eyes couldn't pull away from the crowd, noticing a few people looking at her. With a shaky breath, Nancy crossed her arms over her chest in a swift manner. She pulled the cardigan close to her body, playing with the small button. Her curls were tighter today but laid lazily upon her head. She wished she had time to do her hair this morning.

As she walked into the school, all eyes were on her. Some people gave her a strange look, while others flashed her with a smile. A few greetings flew her way, smacking her in the face with surprise. She returned the favor, smiling softly as she felt anxious as ever. Running her hand up and down her arm, Nancy tried her best to remain calm. It didn't help that when she passed by Eddie Munson and Billy Hargrove, they both whistled at her. And right beside them, Chrissy Cunningham stood with her usual smug look.

At times like these, she wished that she had Steve by her side.

Approaching her locker, Nancy placed all her attention on it. She twisted to the knob, focusing hard to get it correct. It took her a few moments and some shaky laughs to get the combination right and have the lock pop open. Shoving her bag in there, Nancy almost forgot about the unbearable attention she was getting. That was until someone snaked up behind her, leaned their lips down to her ear, and whispered. "Hi,"

Nancy jumped and spun around, locking eyes with the last person she wanted to see. "Hi, Steve." The very last person she wanted to see. Nancy glanced around the hallway, taking notice of all the beady eyes staring at her. She turned her attention back to her locker, organizing her books for the day.

Steve leaned against the locker, letterman jacket on and hair done as usual. He wore a pair of black sunglasses on top of his head, hands shoved into the pockets of his jacket. His eyes looked anywhere but Nancy. "What's with the formalities, sweetheart?"

The boy glanced around, noticing that people were staring a bit at Nancy. For some reason, he felt an urge to protect Nancy from the stares, confusion at an all-time high. "We're not friends nor dating." She spoke, closing her locker. Nancy spun around, books for the next couple of classes in her hands.

"Hey!" He scolded a bit, glancing around to make sure no one heard her statement. Steve brought his attention to Nancy, eyes narrowed with a look of disgust on his face.

"Oh, who cares? It's not like this was going to last very long anyway." Nancy pushed past Steve.

The boy turned around, following Nancy in a heartbeat. "Hey, what's the matter?" He asked, jogging to catch up to Nancy.

"There's nothing wrong." Nancy continued to walk.

"Bullshit." He grabbed her arm and spun Nancy around.

The girl felt her cheeks heat up, eyes avoiding Steve as much as possible. Nancy gulped, staring up at Steve who was already staring back at her. His hand gripped around her wrist, causing her to wince slightly. The girl pulled her arm away, rubbing her wrist gently. "It's...It's not bullshit. You scored with Chrissy on Friday I'm assuming since you didn't call me this whole weekend."

The corner of Steve's lips curled up into a smirk as Nancy went on a tangent. "Wait...you're acting this way because I didn't call you? God, Wheeler, I had no idea you felt this way about me."

Nancy's eyes widened. "Oh, shut up! I'm not upset because you didn't call me. I'm just more upset over the fact that you ditched me! I didn't know the plan was done, hm? It's just pathetic and I'm done with the deal. And to think, it was actually going to work! But you just had to go and leave me to go be with Chrissy!"

Steve listened, crossing his arms over his chest. His smirk only grew wider, curiosity getting the best of him. "You think I didn't call you all weekend because I ditched you after the party to go be with Chrissy?"

Nancy listened to his words, realizing how ridiculous it sounded but she had to keep up the act. "Precisely."

"God, you're pathetic." Steve sighed. "I didn't go back to the party, Nance. I just went home and went to bed. The rest of the weekend I just spent with my parents who are never around. And, occasionally, smoked some weed at night. That's all. Super casual, fun weekend."

Nancy's cheeks brightened. The girl felt like an idiot. It didn't help that Steve's smirk grew wider the more her cheeks reddened. "Awesome." She mumbled, rubbing her hands up and down her arms once again.

"Jealous?"

"Absolutely not!" Nancy shouted, causing the hallway to peer down at her. She rolled her eyes, turning her attention back to Steve. "I don't have a jealous bone in my body."

"Then why did you just assume I ditched you for Chrissy?"

"Because!" Nancy sighed. "Because..." She felt herself calm down, slowly but surely. "I'd like to actually gain some sort of advantage out of this...agreement."

Steve thought for a moment before the words suddenly clicked in his head. "Ah..." He chuckled, running a hand through his hair. "How about this? We have our first study session tonight. I give you some tips, you give me some tips. Both in two, totally unrelated topics. It's perfect, yeah?"

Nancy's signature scowl returned to her lips. However, at the end of the day, the two had an agreement. She would tutor him to gain information on Jonathan, all while adding a bonus topic to her college resume. In exchange, he got to make Chrissy jealous while getting his grades up for school. It was foolproof, even though the party had taken a wrench into their plans.

Nancy had made a complete fool of herself and didn't even get to talk to Jonathan. On the other hand, Steve wasted his night taking care of Nancy. Deep down, she knew she didn't deserve him. He took care of her and brought her home and into bed. Nancy always assumed that he would be the type to just ditch his date, not a care in the world unless it pertained to him. However, he showed a new side that Nancy could barely remember.

"Fine." Nancy sighed. "Library after school."

"Cool." Steve smiled. "Your place after dinner sounds awesome!"

"Huh?"

"See ya!" Steve walked away, never looking back.

Nancy spun around on her heels, scoffing as she watched Steve leave her. She felt stupid, allowing him to walk all over her like that. However, she found herself smiling at just how charming Steve Harrington could be.

Steve hunched over his desk in Journalism, folding paper to create a makeshift paper airplane. His tongue stuck out as he concentrated, the creases nice and sharp. "Aha!" He exclaimed, holding up the precious piece of paper he had just created. "What do you think, hm?"

Chrissy glanced over, her fingers typing away on the computer in front of her. She looked at Steve, then down at his airplane. "Wow, Steve! How...precise!" She giggled nervously, hands hovering over the keyboard. "How'd you make it so...clean?"

Steve smirked, leaning back in his seat. The boy shrugged. "I'm a master at paper airplanes!"

"And you're done." Nancy interrupted, snatching the paper airplane from his grip.

Steve spun around a look of shock across his face. "How dare you?"

Nancy flashed a smug smile, holding the airplane in her hands. "You can get it back after you complete your assignment." Her eyes narrowed to the computer in front of him, the word document empty as usual. "We just got these computers...it's a privilege that you got this job."

"It's a privilege that I'm using a computer? Truly, I don't care. Give me a typewriter and I could do just as good."

"Well."

"Huh?"

Nancy scoffed. "You could do just as well. Not good. The first lesson in our sessions, huh?"

Steve shushed Nancy, turning his attention toward the computer. "Well...I can do well whenever I wanna do well."

Nancy rolled her eyes. "Whatever."

"What exactly am I writing about?"

"I told everyone to come to class with a rough draft prepared for their assignment. Since you've failed to do so, you're already a step behind. Therefore, go grab an encyclopedia and find a topic."

"Jeez, okay, boss." Steve pouted.

Nancy glanced over at Chrissy. The redhead had a dull expression on her face, but her eyes were full of hatred. Nancy felt her cheeks heat up, embarrassed over the fact that Chrissy was listening to their conversation the whole time. Looking down at the airplane in her hand, Nancy also came off as rude for taking Steve's toy. Granted, it was her job to keep people in check. However, it would help him when it came to their deal. "Write about something you like, Steve. Literally anything."

Steve glanced up at Nancy, eyebrows raised in suspicion. "What's with the change of heart?"

"Just..." Nancy sighed, dropping the airplane onto Steve's desk. "Just go with it. Mhm?"

Steve thought for a moment. He glanced around the room, catching wind of Chrissy. His eyes went wide as he stared back at Nancy, a smile growing. "Ohhhh." He nodded, cracking his knuckles and neck before giving his full attention to Chrissy, the computer, and the paper plane. "Chrissy, would you do the honors?"

Chrissy beamed. "Sure!" She smiled and carefully took the plane from Steve. With one quick throw, she aimed the plane toward Nancy.

The plane flew through the air, hitting Nancy square on the nose. The brunette let out a frustrated sigh as Steve and Chrissy erupted into a fit of giggles. Before they could insult her anymore, Nancy turned on her heel. With a defeated look on her face, she made her way back toward the desk.

Steve took notice, his laughter calming down as he watched Nancy walk away. "Nancy!" He called out, sighing once she ignored his call. The boy felt guilt, his smile fading completely. All he could hear was Chrissy's giggles, but his attention stayed focused on Nancy. The look on her face made him want to sigh, talk to her, and ask why she was upset. Beg for an explanation, even though he knew exactly why she looked defeated.

His mood changed as his attention shifted elsewhere. Someone approached Nancy, hands shoved into their pockets with a grin on their lips.

Jonathan Byers.

Nancy's hands worked quickly, organizing her papers. She let out a few sighs, trying to contain her anger from Steve's actions toward her. At the end of the day, Steve Harrington would always be a jerk. He didn't deserve her, and Nancy was starting to wonder if this bet was even worth it.

"Nancy?"

The girl looked up, eyes softening at the sight in front of her. "Jonathan!" She stood up frantically, a smile on her face. Nancy adjusted her hair, crossing her arms over her chest with a smile. "Hi! How're you? Everything okay?"

The boy stood with a smile on his lips, watching as Nancy became flustered by his sudden appearance. "Everything's great. Are...are you okay?"

"Yes!" Nancy beamed. "Why wouldn't I be?"

The girl looked around the room, gaining eye contact with Steve. The boy sat in his chair and leaned back with his arms across his chest. He watched Nancy look like a fool, amusement spreading throughout his body. But all Nancy was focused on was trying to come up with some type of signal to get his attention.

Steve could tell Nancy was struggling. Even though he was enjoying the view, he figured this was his chance to prove to Nancy that he was in it to win it. He was as much involved in this agreement as much as Nancy was. Now was his time to shine, providing Nancy with the best advice he could offer from afar.

"Smile." He mouthed, showing off his smile toward Nancy.

One thing about Nancy was that she was the worst at reading lips. Her eyebrows furrowed as she tried to make out what he was saying. However, the sudden action of Steve's smile gave away the hint. She nodded slightly, attention going back to Jonathan. A smile spread across her lips, wide and full of teeth.

Steve shook his head, indicating to her that her smile was too much. Almost scary-looking. The girl caught wind of Steve toning down the smile, following his instructions.

The sudden back and forth of eye contact brought up concerns for Jonathan. "You seem a bit...flustered." Jonathan chuckled.

Nancy glanced back at Jonathan, her smile only growing more awkward. A nervous laugh escaped his lips. "Flustered? No...No! Not at all!"

"Oh, I get it," Jonathan said. "The party! You really let loose, ya know?"

Steve's hand flew to his mouth, suffocating himself to prevent his laughter from bursting out. He stared at Nancy with happiness in his eyes, amused at the fact that Jonathan had brought up her infamous moment at Chrissy's party.

However, Nancy found it anything but amusing. She also found it odd how she managed to completely miss Jonathan at the party. Between Steve prying her away from Chrissy and her drunken haze, Nancy mentally cursed herself. How could she have been so drunk to the point of missing the chance to have a conversation with Jonathan?

"Yeah!" Nancy laughed, the nerves showing through her teeth.

Steve's laughter calmed down as he heard Nancy's laugh. It was horrid, deep, and full of tiny snorts. The boy rolled his eyes before shaking his head at Nancy. "Less laugh, more smile." He mouthed, demonstrating once again.

Nancy leaned against the desk, trying to make out what Steve was saying. However, she knew that she lacked in the 'being able to read lips' department. Completely missing the first word of his sentence, Nancy emphasized her laughter and flashed her goofiest smile.

Jonathan's eyebrows furrowed, a nervous chuckle escaping his lips.

Steve's eyes went wide, and he shook his head. He signaled Nancy, his arms crossing over one another to form an X.

Nancy got the hint, her cries of laughter dying down at the seams. She looked up at Jonathan, sighing. "Sorry. I..." Her eyes trailed off, finding Steve's once again.

The jock let out a frustrated grunt, leaning back in his chair. He tried his best with advice, but he was slowly giving up. Nancy sucked at reading lips and he viewed Nancy as a lost cause. So, he coughed up the only piece of advice he could come up with on the spot. "Just...Be yourself."

Nancy's eyes softened at the advice. It never occurred to her that she didn't take advice well, considering what Steve gave her was difficult enough. Being herself seemed like a risk she was willing to take, considering how awful she was doing so far with Jonathan. Her attention flashed back to Jonathan, a soft smile on her lips. "I'm sorry. I just...that was my first party, you know?"

Jonathan's eyes adjusted. "Wait, really? Well, what a great first impression."

Nancy's smile grew wider. "You think?"

"Oh, for sure. I enjoyed it at least." Jonathan smirked, running a hand through his hair.

Nancy nodded. "Well, at least someone did."

"Most did. I could tell with all the cheering and shit."

The two shared a fit of giggles, Nancy's cheeks turning bright red as she watched Jonathan. He always knew how to make her feel like a little girl again, experiencing a crush for the first time.

"Anyways," Jonathan chuckled, clearing his throat for a moment. "I was just wondering...if you'd like to go to my house after homecoming? I'm throwing a party. Flyers haven't been made but the after-parties are usually at mine..."

Steve's ears perked up. He heard the question, his heart fluttering for Nancy. The brunette's head shot up, staring deep into Nancy's eyes. All he could do was nod rapidly to show her how important it was that she agreed. No playing hard to get or beating around the bush. This would be a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for Nancy. "Yes!" Instead of mouthing the word, Steve's comment echoed throughout the whole room.

Everyone stopped what they were doing and turned their attention toward Steve. Jonathan faced the boy, a scoff escaping his lips. Nancy stood dumbfounded, eyes widened and her usual scowl attached to her lips. She stared at Steve with a 'thanks for that' kind of look on her face.

Steve paused for a moment, trying to come up with a random statement. "Yes...I finally discovered what I was to write about!"

The whole room groaned and returned back to their chores. Nancy's eyes stayed glued to Steve, who sent her an apology through his puppy dog eyes. Before she could mouth something back to Steve, Jonathan interjected her thoughts.

"Nancy?"

The girl looked back toward her crush, the smile instantly returning to her lips. "Oh! Uh..." She paused for dramatic effect, a smile forming on her lips. "I'd love to go!"

It was Jonathan's turn to beam. "Really?"

Nancy nodded. "Really."

"Sweet!" The boy exclaimed. "Amazing. I'll see you then, Nance. Oh, and you can bring Steve. He's usually invited but I figured you could pass along the message."

All the girl could do was smile, watching as he walked away. Her eyes immediately went to his butt, sighing in awe. Nancy looked over to her partner. Steve sat at his desk, hands up wondering what had happened. But all Nancy did was give him a thumbs up.

With this reaction, Steve felt the hole in his heart fills with joy. He had finally given what Nancy deserved: a conversation with Jonathan Byers. Granted, the two couldn't go on a proper date. But Steve figured that by homecoming time, Nancy would be on the market again just in time for Jonathan to ask her out. Or better, at the after-party they could declare their feelings for one another. It was perfect.

And nothing beats seeing a smile on Nancy Wheeler's face.

"Another party?!" Robin exclaimed as Nancy shut her locker door.

Nancy sighed, rubbing her eyes frantically. She looked at her friend, leaning against the lockers. "Jonathan invited me."

"Jonathan Byers? Your biggest crush of all time has asked you, Nancy Wheeler, to attend his Homecoming party?!"

"Precisely." Nancy nodded.

"And you said...?"

"Yes of course." Nancy sighed, rubbing her hands up and down her arms. "But Steve—"

"Screw Steve!" Robin exclaimed, a smile spread across her face. "We're going to that damn party! The Byers house is sooo isolated, I'm sure it's going to be so much fun!"

Nancy thought for a moment. Senior year was supposed to be a year of many lasts, yet she was experiencing a lot of firsts. First parties, first homecoming, and first sporting events to come as Steve's fake girlfriend. Granted, she was waiting for a few lasts. Last time walking down the hallways, last time feeling ignored by her peers and having to submit a college application. Going to this party seemed bittersweet in a sense. "Maybe."

"Maybe?!"

"Maybe, Rob." Nancy sighed. "First, who knows if I'll even be going to homecoming. Second, it depends on homework and if I need to stay home for Mike and—"

"Blah, blah, blah!" Robin chuckled. "This is your senior year, Nancy! Who cares about school work and if you get asked to homecoming?"

"I care!" Nancy said, feeling sadness flood her chest. "Steve and I...just started dating. I don't know if I'm ready to just...party all the time. School is my number one priority, Robin. Besides, I won't be going to homecoming if he doesn't ask me. I've never been asked to homecoming or any kind of dance! Just because I got invited to a stupid party doesn't mean I need to give up on everything and do everything for Steve!"

Robin stared speechless. The girl let out a shaky sigh, nodding. "I'm sorry, Nance, I didn't mean it to come off that way."

"It's fine." Nancy sighed, pulling her bag over her shoulders. "I have to go study. I'll see you."

Before Robin could answer, Nancy was bolting down the hallway. Not that she was upset at Robin, but her best friend's enthusiasm threw her for a curve ball. Nancy had just gotten used to this sort of spotlight, and she felt that it was all getting to become too much. All she hoped was that Steve would be in the library, ready to study.

Her feet were fast and eventually brought her to the library. She walked in, adjusting her outfit to look as presentable as possible.

Giving a quick greeting to the librarian, Nancy found her way around the library. She glanced around for Steve, wondering if he was there already. Seeing many empty tables, Nancy figured that Steve hadn't arrived. Remembering their past conversation from this morning, Nancy wondered if Steve was going to show up at all. With a quick grunt, Nancy waltzed over to the pay phone that stood outside the library doors.

Digging into her backpack for some change, she managed to find a couple of quarters, plugging them into the tiny slots of the phone. She dialed his number, cringing over the fact that she had it memorized. Listening to the dial tone, Nancy sat with her thoughts. The phone continued to ring until it eventually picked up. "Harrington residence, how many I help you?"

Nancy froze. The girl glanced around, realizing that someone other than Steve had just picked up the phone. Mouth opened ajar, she took a moment to collect her thoughts. "He...Hello." Nancy cleared her throat. "Is...Steve home?"

"Steve?" The other person questioned. "Well, he's at practice actually. Who's calling?"

"Uhm, Nancy Wheeler." Nancy gripped the phone. Of course, he had been at practice.

"Nancy Wheeler? As in Karen Wheeler's daughter."

Her eyebrows furrowed. "Uhm...yes. Yes, ma'am."

"Oh, what a small world! This is Jennifer Harrington, I used to work with your mother!"

Jennifer Harrington never rang any bells until Nancy realized something. The only girl in Steve's family was his mother, considering there had been no mention of a sister, cousin, or anything under the realm. It was obvious that Nancy was on the phone with Jennifer Harrington, Steve's mother. "Re-Really? Wow, that's amazing! Is this...Steve's mom?"

"It sure is!" The voice beamed. "Did you want me to leave a message for him?"

Nancy's eyes screwed shut as she tried to collect her thoughts. "Oh, uhm...We're supposed to have a tutoring session and I just wasn't sure when. I assume not now because he's in practice." Nancy chuckled nervously.

"A tutoring session? Wow, I'm so proud of Stevie." Nancy blushed at the comment. "How about you come here? I'd love to see you, it's been too long! I've known you since you were young, Nancy, believe it or not. I must see you all grown up and with my Stevie!"

"Oh, wow," Nancy mumbled to herself. Steve's mother seemed eccentric, but she went along with it anyway. "I don't know if I'm wanted at Steve's house, ma'am."

"Nonsense! This is my house and I want you here! Stevie is usually done with practice around 6, so why don't you stop by at 7? Just in time for dinner."

"I don't think so, I wouldn't want to intrude." Nancy hoped that Jennifer would give it, but something told her that his mother wouldn't budge.

"Oh, Nancy Wheeler, you're just like your mother. Please, come for dinner. Afterward, you can continue your tutoring session. Is this a new thing? Steve hasn't mentioned anything."

Nancy rolled her eyes at the normal circumstances of Steve Harrington. "Yes, we're starting our sessions..."

"Amazing! God knows Stevie needs it." Jennifer huffed. "Anyways, come over tonight at 7. I'll let Steve know!"

"Wait, I don't think I—"

"I'll see you then, Nancy!" Jennifer hung up the phone before Nancy could get another word in.

Pulling the phone away from her ear, Nancy hung the phone in defeat. With a tough grunt, Nancy let out a soft wail. How did she manage to get wrapped up in a meal with Steve and his family tonight, completely without Steve knowing? She figured he was going to murder her, but probably not until after their deal was done.

Steve ran through the front door, slamming the door behind him. He rushed off into the kitchen, sliding his duffel bag and his jacket off of his arms. "Hi, ma!" He shouted, throwing his belongings onto the nearest table at the dining room table.

Paying no mind to his mother, Steve frantically searched for his keys. "How did I manage to lose them so fast?!"

Jennifer Harrington, small and full of might, spun around. She stood in front of the stove, cooking what seemed like chicken. The sizzling of the food made Steve's stomach churn, hungry for anything. "Hi, Stevie!"

Steve glanced at his mom and did a double-take at the sight. His eyebrows furrowed, and he watched as his mom went back to cooking. "Hi..." His eyes wandered off to the stove, the aroma filling his nose. It was a rare sight to see his mother cooking, especially in their own kitchen. He waltzed over, leaning over his mom. "Chicken?"

"Yes!" Jennifer beamed. She flipped the cutlets over, allowing the other side to cook.

Steve never understood his family. His parents would leave constantly for business trips and it was very rare whenever his parents were home. Usually, when they were home, they barely spent time together as a family. But he deeply wished to spend more time with them, especially before going off to college. "What's the occasion?"

"Nothing!" Jennifer smiled, glancing at her son. She stared at him for a moment, noticing his body drenched in sweat. "Practice?"

"Everyday, ma." Steve sighed, shaking his head in defeat. He glanced over at the calendar, seeing all the dates filled with trips and random HOA meeting dates.

"Right." Jennifer said.

Steve nodded before retreating to his stuff. "Listen, I'm gonna go out with Eddie and Billy. Is that alright?"

"Go out?" Jennifer asked. "No, we're having dinner."

"Since when do we have dinner?"

"Since I invited your friend over."

Steve thought for a moment. He had just mentioned his friends, Eddie and Billy, so Jennifer must have been referring to someone else. He racked his brain, wondering if he had made any plans with a random girl a while ago, or if Chrissy had reached out. "My friend?"

"Nancy Wheeler?" Jennifer asked. "I'm great friends with her mother. I can't wait to see her!"

Steve's emotions flushed throughout his whole body. The boy stood stunned, gripping the sides of the closest thing: the dining room table. He looked down for a moment, seeing imprints from his nails. "Nancy?"

"Yeah," Jennifer smiled. "She called asking for you. I figured that I would invite her to dinner since you two obviously are friends."

"Ma!" Steve sighed. He spun around, placing his hands on his hips. First, he found it strange that Nancy was calling for him. But then he realized he had completely left her out of the loop. "Why would you invite her?"

Jennifer turned around, turning down the stove to prevent the chicken from burning. "Is that an issue?"

"Yes!" Steve said. The boy was confused, anxious, and full of rage. The vague memory of Nancy mentioning tutoring crossed his mind, which caused him to mentally curse at himself. Nancy had called to ask about tutoring, and he had forgotten to remind her of his plans. At times like these, he wished his parents weren't home to answer the phone. "Did she call or something?"

It's not that he didn't want Nancy to come over. He just found his family life a bit embarrassing, and Steve felt it was too soon for Nancy to come. But it was too late the moment he heard a knock on the front door. That meant Nancy was going from 0 to 100 in less than a couple of weeks.

Jennifer giggled. "Yes, she seemed eager to talk to you. So, I just made it easier and invited her over. Now, go freshen up before she's here. You can maybe see Billy and Eddie afterward."

"Maybe? Ma, you barely come home and the one time you do, I'm forced to have dinner with you and a girl that is just my tutor!"

His eyes glanced over at the clock, reading half past 7. With a sigh, he watched as Jennifer began to place pasta into the boiling pot of water. "Steven, do not give me attitude." Jennifer huffed. Steve knew she meant business whenever she used his full name. "Stevie, I understand if you're upset. I just thought I'd do a good thing and invite your girlfriend over!"

"She's not my girlfriend!" Steve sighed, defeated. He smelled horrible from his practice, and he wanted Nancy nowhere near his house. The boy realized that he would potentially scare the living crap out of Nancy with his family. But he tried his best to push his feelings aside as he walked over to the front door.

As he walked, Steve smelled his armpits. He cringed for a moment, wishing he had come home earlier to take a quick shower. However, he wasn't expecting company so soon.

Opening the front door, his body immediately calmed. There stood Nancy Wheeler, dressed to the nines and holding some sort of baked dish in her hands. The girl wore a simple sweater, hues of grays and blues, with baggy jeans tied together with a black belt. She matched her outfit with Mary Jane loafers, and her hair was tied back into a ribbon. She figured she'd dress up a bit to impress Steve's mom.

Nancy looked up at the sound of the door, smiling the moment she laid eyes on Steve. "Hi. I'm...so sorry."

Steve's eyes softened at her meek apology. His eyes scanned up and down her body, taking in her outfit choice. "Nice outfit, Wheeler."

Nancy rolled her eyes. "Whatever. Can I come in? I brought something for your mom."

"How sweet." Steve smirked, taking the plate from Nancy's hands. "Come on in."

Steve stepped to the side, allowing Nancy into the house. She looked around, admiring all the unique qualities that Steve's house possessed. The walls were lined with beige wallpaper, pictures of the Harrington Family filling the walls along with random paintings of the Chesapeake Bay.

To the left sat the den, full of couches and colorful rugs. A tv stood against the wall on top of an organizer, the shelves full of vinyl records. To the left of the TV stand was a record player that came out of the 1960s. Nancy always appreciated music, so it was refreshing to see all of the records. The right wall tucked away the stairs to the upstairs level, covered in a beige rug and vacuumed to the touch.

"Nice house," Nancy said.

"Thanks," Steve scoffed, brushing past Nancy.

Nancy caught a whiff of his smell. She perked up for a moment, smelling the signature smell of musk along with a faint hint of violet. The girl felt her cheeks heat up, feeling weird over the fact that she enjoyed the smell. And she was very much aware of the fact that he had just finished basketball practice.

Following close behind Steve, Nancy appeared in the kitchen. She took notice of a woman setting the table.

"Nancy's here," Steve said.

Jennifer perked up, locking eyes with Nancy. The older woman felt her smile turn into a goofy one as she caught sight of a grown-up Nancy Wheeler. "My, my, Nancy Wheeler, you've grown!"

Before Nancy could get a word out, Jennifer was one step ahead of her. She wrapped her arms around Nancy's, pulling her into a tight hug. "Hi, ma'am." Nancy chuckled nervously, patting Jennifer's back awkwardly.

Steve leaned against the kitchen island, smirking at the sight of Nancy being uncomfortable. It was sweet, causing his heart to swell as Nancy looked at him for help. "Alright, let Nancy breathe."

Jennifer pulled back, placing her hands on Nancy's arms. Her smile never faded as she stared at Nancy. "I know, I'm sorry! Nancy Wheeler is just so grown up and beautiful. Isn't she, Stevie?"

Nancy looked over at Steve, a soft smile on her lips. Steve couldn't help but turn shy, nervously scratching his head. He thought for a moment, never taking his eyes off of Nancy. Steve thoroughly enjoyed how the creases bear Nancy's eyes grew tighter, indicating how much her smile had grown since she stepped into his house. He also admired her bow, finding it adorable and very Nancy-like. "Yeah," He said. "She's great."

Nancy's cheeks flushed, causing her to tear her eyes away from Steve. To keep the awkward silence at bay, Nancy intervened. "May I help set the table?"

"Of course!" Jennifer smiled. She began to hand Nancy some of the silverware, allowing her to take charge of the project. Stepping back, Jennifer sent a wink to Steve. "Help her out, won't you?"

Nancy looked at the silverware, biting on the inside of her cheek to remember how to set a table properly. Steve enjoyed how concentrated she was on the task at hand. His gaze lingered on her, head tilted as he tried to catch her face. But Nancy faced down, organizing the table to the best of her ability. She placed the forks and knives in the right places and, the plate in the center of the table mat.

Steve found it difficult to look away. Nancy had captivated him—somehow, someway—and he was blinded by her beauty. She hadn't done anything different to herself. But he somehow could sense a difference, whether it was in her smile or just the way she presented herself. He never saw her in this light, painted like a beautiful portrait, so effortlessly beautiful. And Steve felt his cheeks heat up at his thoughts, knowing that Nancy Wheeler was tugging on his heartstrings.

He didn't understand her. Nancy Wheeler was so hard to read. She kept to herself, yet appeared outgoing. She never backed away from what she was passionate about, even if it was him being her new project. Steve felt warmth fill his veins, watching Nancy's every move, from the way she bit down on her lip to the way she tucked a piece of hair behind her ear.

Steve found himself comparing Nancy to the sun: so blinding and beautiful, but if you got too close, you'd burn. And he knew he could never go down that road with Nancy, especially because of their deal and the fact that Chrissy was jammed into the back of his mind. Yet, Nancy seemed to outshine Chrissy at the moment, simply by existing.

"Stevie?"

Steve snapped out of his trance, emotions at an all-time high. The boy looked up to see his mother, who began organizing all of the food onto bigger serving plates. "Mind bringing some food to the table?"

All the boy could do was nod. Glancing back, he watched as Nancy finished setting the table. She took napkins close by and placed them down at each placemat. With a smile, Steve grabbed the plates full of food and brought them to the table, placing them in the center. He glanced up at Nancy with a smile. "Having fun?"

"Loads," Nancy paused. "Stevie."

Steve suddenly found himself fond of the nickname.