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devondespresso · 7 months

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Never Again

Nancy is trying to have a good time with her boyfriend after season 1. It would be a lot easier if the last time they did this wasn't the same night her best friend died, but she needs the break to avoid those thoughts, even just for a night. Apparently, she doesn't get a choice.

Thank you so so much to the super epic @museumgiftshoperaser for beta-ing the first bit for me! Genuinely couldn't have done it without her!

TWs: Implied past SA (coersion, not from nancy's experience and not directly described), past character death (Barb), accidental self-injury (and blood), and overall themes of grief (if your unsure about the sa tw i have a brief explanation of the context it appears in on ao3)

**This is the Explicit (and original) version of this ficlet. If you don't do explicit but want to read, I have a sfw version here. ALL other tws still apply!**

ao3

___

Her heart was racing, her mind tuned into every touch and feeling, an electric excitement buzzing through her skin and fluttering in her stomache.

She broke the kiss for just a moment to take off her shirt and tossed it away from her bed, leaning back and lying down. Steve followed her lead, tossing his own shirt in the same direction before reconnecting their kiss.

They finally touched skin to skin and electricity turned explosive, feeling so much, everywhere imaginable, her face burning and mouth aching from holding in smiles, warm and light pressure on top of her and the gentle brushing of soft skin on skin, as comfortable as it was frustratingly insufficient.

Just go home… okay…

Her heart was racing.

Her mind tuned into every touch and feeling.

An electric anxiety buzzing through her skin and swimming in her gut.

“Hey, what’s wrong?”

He was looking at her with that face. She looked away, closing her eyes and trying to get herself back into it. It’s okay, it’s fine, you’re okay.

I’m fine.

Just go home, okay.

“Nancy.” He leaned back, propping himself up on one arm. “What’s going on, are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, just. Overwhelmed.” She smiled, “I’m okay. We can keep going.”

He studied her face for a moment.

“You’re sure?”

“ Yes .” She made herself roll her eyes and smile.

“Okay,” he said, climbing back over her even more carefully than before, “You have to tell me if you need a break, okay?”

“I told you I’m fine.” She made herself laugh. She grabbed around his neck and pulled him for another kiss.

It was good. Great actually, definitely great. Her heart was still racing from excitement as she took the kiss deeper and made them both moan. Steve’s shoulders finally let go of that tension keeping him at a cautious distance, and the weight and warmth came back euphorically.

..This isn’t like you…

She chased the feelings, letting her hands journey slowly down, letting them stop and smell the roses along their way. Dancing between feeling light teasing circles into skin and pulling the weight down, inviting more warmth to her skin.

..Nance.

She planted a foot and ground her hips up and into him on top of her. They both let out another moan and Steve grinded back.

And Nancy let out tears.

Just go home, okay?

She tapped a hand against his chest, over and over, and he got up. She sprung forward, off the bed, fumbling over to the bathroom and trying to keep him from seeing her cry.

“Nanc- Nancy! What’s the matter? Nance?”

Nothing.

“Just gimme a minute.” she called to the room behind her, then rushed in the bathroom and closed the door with a gentle thud. She sat on the toilet seat, covering her mouth with her hand and tried willing herself out of whatever headspace made her cry when she was supposed to be happy.

She tried to focus on down there, the good feelings it was supposed to give her. The sparkling in her skin, the rush of good good, right there, more more more that was supposed to be running through her head. She moved her legs back and forth just a little, trying to find the feeling, the good, the sparkle. Different angle, leaning back a little, maybe side to side, acros- there.

But dread ripped through her gut, making an open bleeding wound that scared any good out of her mind. And she cried harder.

“Nancy. It’s Steve. I have your shirt, do you want me to leave it on the door knob or can I come in?”

“No no no it’s fin-” her breath cut her off. She took another in, deep, “I’ll be back in a minute.”

“No, we’re stopping. I can leave the shirt on the knob for you.”

“Steve, it’s okay, I’m just being. weird. It’s not a big deal.”

Silence from the other side of the door, long enough for her to think maybe he left already.

He took a deep breath from behind the door.

“Nance, can I come in?”

She took a moment to breathe and wipe her eyes.

“Yeah.”

The door opened slowly and Steve already had his shirt back on. He closed the door behind him, crouching in front of her.

"Something is wrong." And he held her shirt out to her. More tears spilled out as she took it, and they agreed with him for her.

Steve sat on the floor and leaned back against the wall as she put the shirt on, slower than she had to.

“Can you tell me what’s going on?” he asked gently after she was done.

“I-” she shook her head, looking for the most normal way to describe it.

“Did I do something to make you upset?”

“No, no. You’re fine, I promise, I- It’s just me being weird, nothing to do with you.”

He studied her face. She wiped at her tears with her sleeve. He reached out and stopped, then grabbed her a towel from by the sink.

“You can touch me, it's fine.”

“Good to know.”

Silence for a moment.

“You know you don’t have to, y’know… we don't have to sleep together. Like, ever, if you don’t want to.”

“That’s not…” she paused. It's not. But it leads where she needs to go. “Never, huh? You’re okay with never sleeping with someone ever again?”

“Yeah. Especially if you don’t want to, okay? You’re not losing anything if you decide you never want to do it again.”

She gave him a look.

“You’d stay in a relationship where you can never sleep with your girlfriend.”

“If I happened to love this girl, I’d do pretty much anything." he smiled, "Maybe even, oh I don’t know, run at a 10 ft tall monster man with a baseball bat I found on the ground,” he nudged her leg, “Y’know, if this girl was really special.”

She tried giving him another look, but her smile broke through, followed by more silent tears.

“You’re not losing me for anything, okay? Never feel like you have to do shit you don’t want to just to keep some boyfriend around.”

“Says the guy who ran towards a monster to keep his girlfriend around.” She shot back halfheartedly.

“That’s different, that’s-” he scooted in closer, stressing the point even more, “I wanted to help. You gave me the chance to leave and I almost did, but I wanted to protect you.” he took one of her hands in his, “You have to want to, otherwise it’s not-” he looked away, searched for a word and couldn’t find it. Instead he made a tense sort of eye-contact, “You don't really come back something like that. Just promise me you’ll never do it unless you want to.”

She exhaled, glancing away to cut tension and nodded. “Promise.”

He nodded, but his eyes still searched her face. She searched back.

“And it has to be because you want to actually sleep with them… not because you want to have them around or…"

She sobered and tentatively brushed the hair out of his face with her free hand.

“or you think you have to.” she finished. He gave a short nod, the look he gave her asking for the promise again.

"Steve, I promise I want to. It’s something else- and I don't know how to say it. But yeah, somethings... It’s something in my head. I had a good time, the first time, and I was having a good time just now, right until the..”

She looked for a vague enough word to fit without making it something he could’ve knowingly caused.

“...until The Something happened?”

“Yeah.”

“Good.” he exhaled, then caught himself, “Well, not- not good, you’re still upset. I mean. Do you know-”

“Would it be weird if I gave you a hug right now?” she interrupted. He shook his head and rubbed at his eyes.

“Go for it.”

She wrapped her arms around his back and he leaned into it. They both rested their head on the other’s shoulder, the air softening back into something comfortable again.

“I love you, too. By the way.”

“Thanks,” he whispered, relaxing.

“And you never have to do it to keep me around, either. I-” She took a breath, and the moment to think. Another breath. “I’m not with you because of that, I’m with you because of you.”

He nodded slightly into her shoulder, holding onto the moment. Then drew back, no longer concerned with hiding the tears.

“I’m with you because of you, too. Even with The Something, okay?” he took her hand and rubbed a thumb along her fingers almost absentmindedly, “Do you know what you want to do about it?”

She sighed.

“I don’t know what I should do. I can’t… ignore it.”

“Yeah, probably not… We can avoid getting- avoid doing it, if you want. Or figure out why it’s happening.”

“I know why.” she cut in, “I mean I just… I have an idea, maybe.”

“Do you want to try and fix it?”

“I dont think it's like that…”

“That’s okay, that’s okay. Do you want to see if it’s something we can avoid?”

She looked down at the thumb gliding across her fingers. She put her other hand over it, stopping the motion and just holding.

“I think I just need time. To figure it out and work through it, on my own.”

“Okay, that’s fine." he squeezed her hand gently, then let go. "Never again, if you need that."

"Maybe again. Eventually again." she exhaled, shaking her head, "Thanks."

"Mhm."

She looked around the room for a segue that could get them back to somewhere relaxed, but found nothing relevant. Her eyes wandered back down to Steve, who was absentmindedly fiddling with loose strings on the bathroom mat, the other arm propped up on his knee, and-

"I'll… give you the bathroom." she said, then immediately cursed herself for the awful transition, standing decidedly to mask the awkwardness.

Steve seemed more shaken by the sudden movement before a clear realization. She gave her hand out to help him up.

"Thanks, I- uh. Mind if I shower?"

"Yeah, yeah, just- sorry. Probably the worst timing imaginable for this conversation."

"Hey, no. It's fine. Literally the least of our problems right now."

He ran a hand through his hair, embarrassed despite everything they've already done.

"Thanks for understanding." she leaned forward and planted a kiss on his cheek, "I'll be in my room when you're done."

"I'll knock. No answer and I can hang out in the living room until you're good. You're feeling okay now, right?"

"As okay as I'm going to be right now."

"Cool, cool. So.." he jutted a thumb back to the shower.

"Yeah." and she headed out the door, almost closing it before he spoke up again.

"Nance."

She paused at the door.

"I love you."

She relaxed a little.

"I love you, too."

They shared a smile and she closed the door.

Nancy made her way back, strolling slow down the hall to her room, closing the door behind her and leaning back against it, locking it out of habit. She closed her eyes and leaned her head back, taking a long breath, as much as he lungs could take, then let out as slow as she could without suffocating. They fixed it, or at least found the work-around. It's okay now. She's okay.

She looked over at her bed, and the tousled sheets on top of it made the dread crawl back in. Cold and shaky, heart rate still too fast despite it being over now.

She pushed off the door and ripped the blanket off, then the next blanket, the sheet under, then pillows, yanked off the bed one by one, to just get it all off, start over, get it back to-

Wood on wood knocked from the nightstand beside her. She turned her head and froze. The photo of her and Barb gone.

She dropped the pillow and leaned over the desk, searching for where it fell. Back left corner, a little raccoon plush breaking its fall.

She dropped down and rescued the picture, checking for cracks in the glass. It was fine. She stood up, avoiding hitting her head on the desk, and examined it again for any slight new imperfections. It was still fine. She set it back on the nightstand where it belonged, tidying a few other things that fell over but not quite off the ledge. And it looked fine.

She took the last few pillows off the bed carefully, dropping them on the pile behind her.

She took a breath. Another.

Now would be a pretty good time to start crying again. It's supposed to be better, make you feel better afterwards, or at least numb. Her last cry didn't do that, didn't even touch whatever immovable heaviness lived somewhere behind her ribs. Metaphorically the heart, but physically deeper. The true center of her body, below her lungs that seemed allergic to air, above her gut that stayed hooked on feelings well past their welcome.

Now would be the time to cry. No one to see it but her, like crying on the inside but if crying inside could do anything to actually help.

She didn't cry.

So she made the bed. Refitted the sheets tighter, neater. Laid both blankets over top, one flat to tuck under the pillows, one folded to be used. Arranged pillows, biggest by the headboard, smallest towards the center. A few stuffed animals added around for good measure: a worn white rabbit, a puppy with a pink collar, a black cat, a light brown teddy bear, and the raccoon.

And it looked perfect. She won't be using it for that anytime soon, it's just her childhood bed again. The assortment of stuffed animals specifically helped distance it from the dread, and if she was lucky it'd be completely forgotten by morning.

She let out a deep breath and flopped down on her back, the bed bouncing and springs creaking loudly from age.

She's a little too big for this bed. She can still fit, technically, as long as she doesn't stretch out too far. They're lucky Steve doesn't mind curling up a bit, otherwise he'd never fit with both of them there.

A knock on the door. A gentle three taps, barely audible. She looked over to the door. She was basically done tidying up, the bed looked perfect again.

Three more knocks. Louder, just in case the first three hadn't been heard. She kept her eyes trained on the door. The room was perfect, she stopped crying and she was just lying down before bed now.

He didn't even try the doorknob, had no idea she locked it.

She couldn't convince herself to let him in.

Another second of silence, then the sound of the stairs creaking gently.

She should've let him in.

But the bed still holds a whisper of their time earlier, the only evidence left being the memory. And her guts still carrying the dread it found earlier, like a toddler clinging to their first toy.

She looked back over to the plushies, grabbing the Teddy Bear in hopes it could drive the dread away. It was nice, but didn't do anything, and she tried the raccoon after. Nice, but not helping.

She reached for the puppy but she was gone. She put the others back and looked over the bed, and found it on the floor. She rescued it and held her close.

The dread still didn't get better, and if anything it was getting worse, but she didn't let go. She sat up with it in her arms and could feel the tears finally coming back to her eyes. She held tighter, but they wouldn't fall.

The room looked perfect. Exactly like it did a few months ago.

Only she knew something's different. Only she knew that Barb will never lay on her bed next to her, never call her phone over and over until she answers, never play with the little music box she had gotten when they were both tiny and happy and alive.

When they both fit on the bed, starfished out beside each other, talking about every little nothing that meant the world to them a few months ago.

She needed to fucking cry.

Because nothing was wrong. Will came back and Barb skipped town, problem solved, nothing to see here. A rocky month for Hawkins and then everything's normal again.

She pushed off the bed, holding the puppy tight and pacing a circle, careful not to hit the nightstand again.

She’s too careful.

The picture could've broken, but it didn't. She could've hit her head, but she didn't. The puppy plush could've been lost, but she wasn't.

Too careful and now everything looks perfect.

It was all just fine.

Barb wasn't dead, she ran away. No one was grieving, they were missing her. Nancy wasn't a careless ass, she was a teenager with one rebellious night.

And people had the audacity to think Nancy felt betrayed that Barb left her.

She threw the puppy plush at the bed and it bounced before landing somewhere on the other side. Guilt punched her gut and strangled her throat, but the puppy didn't hit anything, barely even jostled the bed.

Like nothing happened.

She grabbed the picture of her nightstand, holding the top and bottom of the oval in each hand, put a foot up on her bed.

And as hard as she fucking could, slammed the frame down on her thigh.

Glass shattered and the wood split along the sides, the little frame bent but still in one piece. She held it still in front of her, staring down at the split fibers sticking out, the glass chunks at her feet, the few clumps falling from the still frame as gravity slowly pulled them away from her.

She doesn't regret it. Or maybe she does.

She turned the frame around slowly, looked Barb in the eye, both of them surrounded by shards of glass. The front of the frame's wood was more bent than split and would probably look okay after some work to it. But the glass was still broken, never to be glued back together or look quite the same ever again.

Something here was finally broken.

Her thigh was itchy, so she moved the frame to one hand and looked at it. A few crumbs of glass sitting on top, a scattering of cuts and speckled with dots of red like her first attempt at shaving.

That wouldn't be a fun fix. Nor would finding all the scattered pieces of glass surrounding her.

She could ask for help, but that'd mean explaining why she broke the picture of her dead best friend, on purpose, and finding a reason that doesn't sound awful. She could fix it on her own, make the problem just broken glass, like the frame just fell off the table. She could pretend it upsets her.

She did neither.

She cried.

___

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madaboutmunson · 1 year

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Nancy can't go to the party tonight.

She has a deadline for an article tomorrow.

An article she'd finalised last week.

Nancy can't even pop in for pre-drinks.

There is a talk from a journalist she admires just out of town, and she can't miss it.

Even though she's been to this talk twice already, honestly, it wasn't as inspiring or informative as she'd hoped.

Nancy definitely can't come around after she's done.

She needs to get her beauty sleep, according to her Mom.

Though she knows one night of lack of sleep wouldn't ruin the whole routine, she religiously carries out morning and night.

But Nancy will drop off her mystery present because Steve asks her to. He knows that not everyone has bags of cash, so if all the presents are mixed up, they won't know who any of the gifts are from.

So Nancy sits and waits at the back, for the present opening to begin.

Nancy really wants to go to the party tonight.

But she knows she'll drink.

She'll drink because it takes the edge off of being the responsible one.

And then drinking will mean she can't drive, so she'll need to stay, and sure Steve's house has enough room, but it always ends up the same, and she's wondering if this time will be the time she slips up.

If this time they'll make her favourite drink, exactly the way she likes it because they listen, that Nancy will drink so many of and say something she shouldn't.

If this time, when they lock eyes with her to check she's ok when someone brings up Jonathan because they care, that Nancy won't get lost in their eyes.

If this time, when they snuggle up next to her all sleepy, that Nancy won't throw her arms around them and pull them in so tight, they can't breathe because that's how they make her feel.

So Nancy waits, as present after present is unwrapped. They have no idea who most of them are from, though some are a little on the nose.

But then they get to her gift. As they pull on the end of the bow, the packaging falls open just as Nancy had envisioned when she crafted it.

She represses a small smile of pride and excitement, but to the eagle eyed they might have noticed the split second twitch.

Then they flip open the jewellery box, and their eyes and smile widen.

"It's so beautiful!! Thank you!" Robin exclaims as she throws her arms around Steve's neck, "Help me put it on!!"

Nancy's heart leaps at the excitement in Robin's voice.

"I mean, sure, Rob…but…er" Steve starts and receives a thump in the arm from Eddie, "Ow!"

"Just help the girl put it on!" Eddie says as he goes to grab a drink.

Steve obliges, though it takes a while because the clasp is so dainty.

The silver robin, with the tiny diamond embedded on the tip of its wing, swings down and glints in the light.

Instinctively Nancy secretly reaches for her ballerina pointe shoe pendant as Robin proudly shows off her new necklace.

Nancy feels something bump her arm. She turns and finds herself a centimetre from Eddie's face, "If I were you, I'd stay", he quietly rasps, handing her an overly foamy, obviously rush-poured beer, "You can't run forever, Wheeler. She'll notice and think you hate her." He narrows his eyes, "Do you want that?"

Nancy shakes her head.

"Then stay. Look, I've known for weeks, well suspected at least. Which means it's been going on for much longer because, let's face it, I'm a dumbass." Eddie smiles and shakes his head as he glances at Steve and Robin for a second and back to Nancy, "and you know Harrington can't keep a secret, especially not from Buckley, and as you can see, he's just working it out. This means it's maybe an hour, two tops before he blurts it out."

Nancy looks over at them. Steve does indeed look like he's calculating something, but every time Robin looks back at him, he quickly puts on his big smile and waves his hands around in a silly way as the kids all gather around them, trying to get a glimpse of all the different gifts, trying to guess who got what.

Nancy sighs, "Eddie, I can't. It's not…."

"Right? Acceptable? What you want? Straight?" Eddie tries to finish urgently, still whispering.

"Real," Nancy says quietly.

Eddie laughs, "Are you kidding me? I thought, other than Henderson, you were the smartest of us. It looks pretty fucking real to me."

"It does?" Nancy says, looking back at Eddie's earnest eyes.

"Shit Wheeler, yeah! But you know, I'm not trying to push you. I'm just saying, at some point tonight, she's gonna find out who got her that gift, and it's up to you whether you are here for that revelation or not." Eddie shrugs and takes a sip of his beer.

Nancy swirls the beer around in her cup and looks into it for a second.

"You know, for a guy who spends most of his time chucking his brain into the sides of his cranium, you're pretty wise." She says, smirking into her cup.

"Ah, that is because wisdom and intelligence are totally different stats, my dear", Eddie smiles.

"So I could still be super smart and not wise?" She looks up at Eddie and smiles.

Eddie grins back knowingly, "Oh yeah, absolutely!"

"Good to know," Nancy says as she takes a sip of her beer.

#nancy wheeler #ronance #robinbuckley #nancywheeler #robin buckley #steve harrington #eddie munson #parts of this story are absolutely not a projection or retelling of something from my youth. nope. not at all.#ronance ficlet #nancy wheeler ficlet #nancy wheeler fic #ronance fic #ronance fluff #nancy wheeler fluff #eddie the all seeing

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anarcoqueer1994 · 25 days

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Give me the fruity 4 all hanging out after Spring Break, and Eddie whips out a joint. And Steve may be very aware he is bisexual and very much into Eddie. Nancy and Robin watch in disbelief as Steve, in his smoothest voice says "I've never done this before. Can you help me, Eds?" As he honest to God bats his eyes. Robin and Nancy know damn sure that Steve has done this before and does not need help. But they watch on as Eddie malfunctions while trying to shotgun with Steve, who knows perfectly well what he is doing.

#stranger things #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #nancy wheeler #robin buckley #fruity four #bisexual steve harrington #ficlet?

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stevieschrodinger · 1 month

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Everyone is stoned. Just. So stoned. Eddie brought over the good stuff. The TV's been stuck on static for like, forty minutes, but no one can be bothered to move.

"You shut up Steven, you've practically dated everyone in the room."

"Robs. Robs. We never. Not even prac-ti-cly."

"Yeap, yeap, you asked me-"

Steve huffs, "we were drugged and in a bathroom, and doesn't count. Said no."

"But I nearly said yes. So you've nearly dated everyone," Robin tells him confidently.

Steve's vaguely aware of either Nancy or Eddie making a noise at that revelation, but he's not looking at where they're lying on the floor, so he doesn't know which of them it was.

And for a split second, Steve's back there. Drugged, confused, sitting in a bathroom and absolutely certain that he's in love with Robin, "you never told me that."

She shrugs, she shrugs like it's nothing, like she hasn't just turned Steve upside down a little bit, "I only figured it for a second, but I thought, if there was someone I could...fake it with. It would be you."

And there's just so many things she's not saying there. That don't need to be said. About the world and why she would consider that. Too many things for Steve to process. And Steve's crying, he doesn't even know why really, just big feelings that he can't define. A life they nearly had that would have been a lie, but still a forever with Robin. He's got a lapful of Rob now, and he holds her so tight, so so tight. And he knows Eddie is there, rubbing his back, and Nancy is doing the same for Robin.

And he kind of thinks that things do just work out.

#eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #steddie #ficlet #headcanon #robin buckly #nancy wheeler #ronance #steve and robin #platonic stobin

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unclewaynemunson · 6 months

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Pt2 to this post

'Is something wrong?' Nancy asks, not long after the two of them have taken their familiar spots on the hood of Steve's car. They're basking in what might be the last warm sunlight of the year, looking out over the quarry, at a safe distance from the edge.

It's become a tradition the two of them share, ever since they reconnected back in March. It calms them both, to just sit here and take in the view, no one around but each other. Nancy is one of the few people Steve can share a comfortable silence with: sometimes they sit here quietly for what feels like hours, side by side, listening to music or to nothing but the birds singing around them. But they also have their best conversations here: it's the place where Nancy entrusted him she wanted to break up with Jonathan; it's the place where they talked about their shared past and decided they would always love each other as friends; it's the place where they finally talked about Barbara in a way they couldn't when they were younger. It's where Nancy talked about the ghosts still haunting her and Steve talked about how lonely he sometimes felt.

Steve huffs. 'How did you guess?'

'When you frown, you always do it with your whole face,' Nancy notes. 'So it's hard to miss, really.'

Steve glances at her side profile. There's a serenity to her features that's still relatively new. It means she's healing, slowly learning how to be happy again. It means she stopped waiting for the end of the world and started believing in a real future again. It makes Steve proud of how far they both have come.

'I had a fight with Eddie,' he confesses. 'And with Dustin, I guess.'

'What happened?'

He sighs. 'It's complicated.'

'Wanna tell me about it?'

The look in her eyes is kind and inviting. Steve hesitates. He wants to, but he doesn't know if he can. It's a risk. It's scary.

But he can't imagine Nancy Wheeler ever being careless with his secrets. He can't imagine her judging him, can't imagine her being as small-minded as most people in this town.

He was planning on telling her anyway, because things had been going so well with Eddie lately and – no, he shouldn't think about that right now. But maybe it would actually be nice to talk about it with Nancy.

'So, um...' His throat feels tight and his hands are sweaty. 'I recently discovered some things about myself. I-' The words get stuck somewhere on the way to his mouth, and he clears his throat.

Nancy doesn't push, but only gives him an encouraging nod, waiting for him to find his voice again.

'I found out I like boys,' he finally manages to confess. 'And I need you to know that – that that doesn't mean that what I felt for you wasn't real. It was. I loved you, and now I fell in love with a boy. And-'

'Steve.' Nancy's hand suddenly covers his, causing him to finally jerk his head away from the view over the quarry, to focus on her face again instead.

Her eyes are wide, and she squeezes his hand.

'You don't have to explain yourself to me,' she tells him. 'We're good. But thank you for telling me. For trusting me with this.'

Steve heaves out a relieved sigh, and Nancy smiles; it's that genuine kind of smile which reveals all kinds of dimples and soft lines across her face.

'We might be more similar than you thought,' she tells him, a faint blush spreading over her cheeks.

'Really?' Her words make his breath catch in his throat. He squints at her, trying to see her in this new light. 'Are you saying what I think you're saying?'

She shrugs. 'I don't know. I'm not sure yet,' she admits. 'Still figuring things out.'

'Take your time, there's no rush,' he tells her. 'But...' He bumps his shoulder against hers. 'When you're done figuring it out, talk to me, okay?'

She nods. 'Okay.'

For a while, it's quiet between the two of them. Some kind of raptor circles high above them in the sky. They both follow it with their eyes until it disappears among the tree tops west of the quarry.

'Is it Eddie?'

Steve blinks dumbly a couple of times.

'Wha- what?'

'The guy you were talking about. The one you fell in love with. It's Eddie, isn't it?'

'Jesus, Wheeler, what kind of sorceress are you?' Steve exclaims.

Nancy laughs again. 'You're not being as subtle as you think,' she tells him. 'The two of you have been hooking up for a while now, haven't you?'

Steve huffs dramatically. 'This is unfair. You know everything; I can't even tell you my own secrets anymore!'

'So what happened?' Nancy asks. 'You said you had a fight with him?'

'It's fucking stupid,' he sighs. 'Dustin was getting way too excited about the fact that I was gonna be hanging out with you, so I told him I was seeing someone. Next thing I knew, he was telling Eddie all about how I was seeing a girl.' He waves his hands around to make annoyed air quotations. 'I wanted to tell Eddie it was a misunderstanding, but Dustin was there, so I couldn't out us just like that, and he looked so betrayed and heartbroken... He didn't wanna listen to me.'

Steve sighs; he still can't manage to forget that look in Eddie's eyes when Dustin delivered the big news. 'I wish I would've talked about what I felt for him earlier. I should've been honest when I had the chance, y'know. But I was afraid he wouldn't wanna label what we had, that he wouldn't feel the same way – and now we're in this whole mess. God, he must hate me right now, Nance.'

To his surprise, Nancy gives him an unexpected slap against his arm.

'Ouch, what the hell was that for?!'

'What are you even doing here with me, Steve? You should've gone after him, tell him how you feel!'

'I tried, obviously, but he didn't wanna listen to me!'

'So make him listen! You're in love with him, he obviously feels the same way about you, and you let him leave to wallow in a broken heart he doesn't even need to have!' She rolls her eyes and slides off the car, adding something under her breath that sounds suspiciously like an exasperated 'Boys!' before she pulls Steve off the car as well. 'C'mon, time to get your ass over to the trailer park. Right. Now,' she says through gritted teeth. And, well, Steve knows better than to argue with a determined - and truthfully quite terrifying - Nancy Wheeler.

Read the last part here Taglist: @withacapitalp @ultimatedreamer104 @irregular-child @jcmadgirl @estrellami-1 @myguiltyartpleasure @hallucinatedjosten @jaybren @thew1ldblueyonder @melodymeddler @alycatavatar @zoeweee @lolawonsstuff @fairy-princette @saramelaniemoon @phirex22 @krazyperson @xxsky-shockxx (I only put people on this list who explicitly asked to be tagged. That's really no problem, I love to do that so dw about asking, but I got a lot of relatively vague reactions to the previous post that i'm not gonna dissect and interpret, bc I don't wanna clog anyone's notes unwanted. So just to be clear: i consider it a huge compliment if anyone asks for a tag but please do it clearly if you do!)

#look i can and i will exploit the miscommunication trope until yall are sick and tired of it #bc steddie is actually the perfect couple for keeping that trope believable #they're idiots with terrible communication skills it's canon #they WOULD #“can't you just talk to him?” “wait what i can????” IT'S SO THEM OKAY #nancy is the only sane person here i don't make the rules #don't mind me rambling about stranger things #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #nancy wheeler #platonic stancy #(i love platonic stancy they mean the world to me)#(i truly didn't mean to trick anyone into reading about them this just kinda. happened. idk)#this is making me wanna write more about their friendship actually they deserve their own fic #stranger things #fruity ficlet

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steddiealltheway · 6 months

Text

The upside down is colder than Steve remembers.

To be fair, he only wearing a vest, pants, and no shoes at the moment, and he may be actively bleeding out even with the bandages because of the damn bats but… he just doesn’t remember it being this cold.

He probably didn’t spend long enough in the tunnels to truly get a feel for things. But now that he’s fully here, he can’t imagine what it must’ve been like for Will.

The place is dark enough to even give Steve nightmares although he has Robin, Nancy, and Eddie at this side. How did Will survive with no one?

Steve looks down and carefully steps over a vine as he makes his way through the woods. Did Will ever step on-

“Is this a bad time to mention that I haven��t kissed anyone?”

Steve and the girls turn to Eddie, giving him looks of confusion at the random outburst.

Eddie keeps walking, staring at the ground as he tries not to activate the hive mind. “I’m just saying, it kind of feels like the end of the world here, and it makes you think. Like, do I really want to die a virgin? Not really, but dying without kissing anyone… I feel like that’s a bigger problem in my book.”

Robin and Nancy share the same look of confusion mixed with an air of why are you talking to us about this? But Steve thinks he gets the nervous rambling. He wouldn’t want to die unkissed either.

Eddie slowly stops and turns around, finally noticing that the three of them stopped when he made his first comment. He just stares at them for a moment before sighing, “Forget I said anything. I just hate walking in silence with all these thoughts of impending doom.”

With that, the girls start walking again, quickly catching up to Eddie, but Steve struggles as he thinks a little too hard about what Eddie said instead of thinking about not stepping on a vine. So he compromises speed for a very important thought.

Eddie wants to kiss someone. Probably. Definitely.

He can’t kiss Nancy because she’s with Jonathan, and Steve’s pretty sure Nancy would not be the greatest choice of a first kiss - since she would be unenthusiastic.

And Robin… well. She would be equally as unenthusiastic, probably even more so.

And really, everyone must be thinking the same thing. Because there’s one obvious solution.

“I’ll kiss you,” Steve announces as he steps over a vine. He watches as the three of them freeze in front of them, and Eddie almost even trips on a vine.

Once he catches up to them, Steve says, “It’s the clear solution to the problem.”

Robin shoots him a look of bewilderment and mouthes what??

Steve just looks away from her. It’s not a crazy thought really. Eddie wants to kiss someone before the world maybe ends, and Steve is just a really generous person who would like- enjoy- no, volunteer very very generously to help the good cause.

“You’re kidding, right?” Eddie asks.

And oh. Steve hadn’t really thought about how Eddie might not want to kiss him. Shit. He shakes his head. “I’m not kidding, but I wouldn’t do it unless you wanted to. And it’s okay that you don’t. Let’s just keep going.”

Eddie reaches out and grabs his arm. “I never said that I didn’t want to,” he says quickly.

Steve’s pretty sure he hears Robin snort at the comment, and he can sees Nancy trying to hide an amused smile behind her hand. He ignores them and puts his hands on his hips. “Alright.”

“Okay,” Eddie says.

They both stare at each other not moving.

“We’re going to give you some space,” Robin says, grabbing Nancy’s hand and pulling her deeper into the woods.

Steve doesn’t pay much attention to them as they walk away, he’s too busy staring at Eddie. And yeah, he’s a good looking guy. He knew that from high school whenever he would go on his rants, and Steve had an excuse to stare. And really the thought of kissing him is definitely not the worse and actually… he’s kind of looking forward to it, if the fast beating of his heart is any indication.

Eddie though, he looks… scared. Maybe just nervous. But his expression definitely isn’t in any way happy.

Steve takes a step toward him and softly says, “We don’t have to do this, okay? And it’s okay if you don’t want to.”

Eddie shakes his head and laughs humorlessly. “It’s not that I don’t want to it’s just… you’re Steve Harrington.”

“And?”

“And that name means something. And it shouldn’t be tangled up with my name.”

Steve raises his eyebrows at him. “I’m pretty sure we already crossed that line a while ago.”

“But you know what I mean,” Eddie sighs, looking at the ground.

Yeah, he does know what he means. But… “The world might end. I think there are stranger things than you and me kissing.”

Eddie shakes his head. “I think that would be the most shocking thing out of all of this.”

“Then get ready for me to rock your world, Munson,” Steve says with a smirk, stepping closer and brushing a curly strand of hair out of his face.

Eddie takes a deep breath and settles his hands on Steve’s waist above the wounds he’s forgotten about. “Is this… okay?”

Steve nods and wraps his arms around Eddie’s shoulders. “Yeah. Is this?”

Eddie just hums mhm, his eyes get a little wider and his cheeks flush a deeper pink.

Steve can’t help but look over Eddie’s face, taking in what he looks like at the closer proximity when he’s allowed to look. His eyes wander down to where Eddie’s full lips are slightly parted as if they’re just waiting for him to kiss them. But Steve looks back into Eddie’s dark eyes, searching for hesitation but only sending nerves and anticipation.

“I like that you’re the same height as me,” Steve randomly blurts out.

“Why’s that?”

Steve feels a blush creep up his neck. “Because my neck won’t strain when I kiss you.” Eddie laughs, and Steve decides that if the world really is coming to an end, he should be fully honest. “Plus, it’s easier to look at your eyes when they’re at my level.”

Eddie’s grin turns into a soft smile. His eyes glance down at Steve’s lips.

He knows the moment has come. “I’m going to kiss you now, if that’s okay.”

“It’s more than okay,” Eddie says, leaning in closer.

Steve smiles before closing the distance between them and kissing Eddie slowly as if they have all the time in the world. He breaks the kiss and pulls back enough to take in Eddie's expression - eyebrow raised in astonishment, lips slightly parted, and eyes still closed.

And yeah, they might not make it to tomorrow, plus Eddie looks hot. So, Steve doesn’t pull away. Instead, he kisses him again, this time with much more fervor and… yes, tongue. Sue him. He just wants to make Eddie’s first (and second) kiss memorable.

Eddie’s hands press into Steve’s back, pulling him closer as Steve slows the kiss, needing air. He pulls back and breathes in deep, staring at Eddie’s kiss swollen lips and feeling… many things.

But instead of giving into those feelings, Steve just pats Eddie on the arm and says, “See, you’re a natural.” As soon as he walks away, Steve wants one of the vines to drag him far far away so he doesn’t have to think about what he just said. Christ. He’s not smooth.

As soon as he catches up to Robin, she practically yanks him back so Eddie and Nancy can wander off out of earshot.

Steve crosses his arms and stares at her. “What?”

“Don’t ‘what’ me. You know exactly what this is about,” Robin says, jabbing a finger into his chest.

Steve winces. “Okay. Yes. I kissed Eddie. But what else was I supposed to do? Make you or Nance kiss him? No way.”

“You realize that he was just thinking out loud, right? You turned his thought into an invitation.”

Steve shrugs and walks toward the other two, trying to make sure they don’t go too far. “It sounded like an invitation to me,” he says with a shrug.

“I’m sure it did,” Robin mutters.

Steve turns to glare at her.

Robin sighs and lays a hand on his arm. “You can talk to me, you know? Even if you’re in the process of figuring things out and can’t get a true read of things.”

Steve turns and looks back at Eddie, noting how his heart beats a little faster and his body wants more than anything to get closer to him. He looks back and Robin and asks, “How obvious am I being?”

The tension in Robin’s shoulder goes away slightly at the question, and she smiles. “With the ‘you’re a natural’ comment? Totally fooled. No one would guess a thing.”

Steve’s jaw drops. “You were watching that?”

“How could I not? And do I regret it?” Robin pauses before answering her question, “A little when you started using tongue.”

“Jesus, Robin,” Steve says, trying to sound annoyed, but he can’t help but laugh.

Robin smiles and nudges him. “It seems like you have a type.”

Steve raises an eyebrow before he looks to where Robin is staring. He watches as Nancy and Eddie talk quietly about something, both sharing a small smile, amusement evident in their big round eyes, and dark, curly hair framing their faces. Maybe Robin has a point.

“Maybe I do,” Steve says as Eddie glances back at him and smiles. When he turns back, Steve asks Robin, “Do you think we could talk more about it when we’re not in an alternate dimension, and I have time to think about things?”

“Of course,” Robin says and squeezes his arm. “But for now, I’m going to give you things to think about!” she announces before running ahead to Nancy and quickly starting some type of hushed conversation.

Steve looks at where Eddie lingers behind the girls and quickly runs up to him, deciding maybe he can figure things out now. And maybe he can verbally thank him for saving his ass instead of just kissing him and hoping he gets the message.

Gosh, he doesn’t know if he can get through this without getting distracted by his lips. But he’s going to try.

(And he’s going to fail)

#steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie ficlet #stranger things #robin buckley #nancy wheeler #did I just accidentally sort of make this canon compliant?#maybe #do i regret it?#not at all #now I’m just going to insist this is a deleted scene #because it is #they kissed your honor

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loveinhawkins · 10 months

Text

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.”

#another concept has ensnared me oops #i can only apologise for the cliffhanger #pre steddie #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #steddie #steve and nancy #steve harrington #eddie munson #nancy wheeler #steve x eddie #flayed steve harrington #body horror cw

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morganski-19 · 2 months

Text

The One with the Gossip

The group is hanging out at the café, all in different conversations when Jonathan comes into the bar and flops down on the couch. Camera bag sliding off his shoulders.

“When does this place start serving alcohol?” he groans.

“In about thirty minutes,” Nancy starts, “are you ok?”

Argyle trades places with Robin, sitting next Jonathan. “That bad?”

Jonathan nods, widening his eyes. “Messiest wedding I have worked months. There were so many things and they just piled on top of each other. The amount of bridesmaids and groomsmen that had previously slept together and didn’t know about it was insane.”

Steve and Eddie turn their heads at the same time. “What now,” Eddie says intrigued.

“I love messy shit I’m not apart of,” Steve mutters under his breath.

“It was crazy,” Jonathan sits up, turning toward Steve and Eddie at the side table. “And it all started for the most stupid reason. The guys apparently had a bet when to see how many of the bridesmaids they could sleep with. And the girls didn’t know about it, and a few of them fell with their ‘charms’ and were none the wiser. Until, one of the groomsmen said who won in their speech.”

“Holy shit,” Robin says with a sip of her tea.

Eddie winces. “That is such a dick move.”

“How likely was it that they were part of those fraternities that just liked to terrorize people,” Steve asks. Having almost accidently joined one of these fraternities when he was in college.

Jonathan nods with disgust. “That only scratches the surface. The best man had won, having slept with six out of the seven bridesmaids, and he was engaged to the maid of honor.”

Everyone winces with disgust.

“Not cool, dude,” Argyle says with disappointment. “So not cool. How can people do this to other people. And think that they can get away with it.”

“Because they’re inconsiderate assholes,” Steve says at the same the same time Eddie says “They’re disgusting bags of shit.” They high five each other.

Jonathan lets out a long breath. “And I’m not done yet. It gets worse.”

“Oh my god, how,” Nancy questions.

Argyle stands. “I’ll be right back, continue without me.” He walks over to the bar and starts to talk to the barista.

“He got bonus points for sleeping with the bride. And the second-place winner, was the groom.”

“Holy shit,” everyone says in unison.

Jonathan nods with wide eyes. “And the groom got a bonus point for sleeping with his future mother in law.”

They were too stunned to speak, just letting the silence fill that moment. Argyle returns with a cup of something and places it in Jonathan’s hands.

“What did I miss?” he asks, looking at them all super confused. “Are you guys broken?”

Steve shakes his head, trying to wrap his head around what was just said. “I don’t think I’ve heard that one before.”

“And this is coming from someone who has actually slept with one of his frat bro’s moms,” Robin interjects.

“On accident. And she was his stepmom, that was much younger than his dad, well after I was in college. He doesn’t know, it’s fine.”

“Did that cause another sex ban?” Eddie asks.

Steve laughs. “No, that’s when the figured out that the previous sex ban wasn’t working.”

Jonathan takes a sip of the drink Argyle gave him. “Jesus, that’s strong. Did you bribe them or something?”

“Something like that. Seriously though, what did I miss?”

“Groom slept with the future mother-in-law,” Robin fills in, Argyle winces. “What is with people?”

Jonathan shrugs. “Don’t know. But it was a big wedding that they are not getting a refund for. And I still got cake, well what was left of it.”

Eddie leans forward. “What was left of it?”

“Yeah,” Jonathan nods. “Speeches were right before cake, so the bride took the entire top layer and slammed it over the groom’s head. Followed by the maid of honor taking two giant handfuls and shoving it into the best man’s face. Arguments broke out and all that shit. I stayed back to help clean up.”

“Had they signed the marriage certificate yet?” Nancy asks.

Jonathan sighs. “No clue, don’t care. It’s over and I got paid. A lot. This was not a cheap wedding. Oh right,” Jonathan reaches down into his bag and grabs a takeout container, handing it to Argyle. “Saved you a piece of cake.”

Argyle takes it, opening it and starting to eat it. Nodding his head in appreciation.

The rest of the group looks at Jonathan. “Where’s our cake?” Robin asks, a little hurt.

“You don’t live with me, you don’t get cake.”

Tag list (let me know if you want to be added or taken off) @slowandsteddie, @annieofhearts, @cacdyke, @ubpd, @captain--low, @thespaceantwhowrites, @goodolefashionedloverboi, @anne-bennett-cosplayer, @lunaticparisianlady, @apomaro-mellow, @dolphincliffs, @dragonmama76, @maggiebug417, @stevesbipanic, @fearieshadow, @mentallyundone, @eightpackdiaz, @au79burger @bookworm0690 , @practicallybegging, @potato-of-the-lord, @autumncrocusandladybug

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steddieasitgoes · 6 months

Text

written for @eddiemonth Day 16 Prompt: Library & Curious a/n: This one might be my favorite one I've written yet! It's set at the start of season 2! read on ao3 | link to my ao3 Edde Month series

Eddie’s well aware there are a lot of stupid classes that Hawkins High requires its student body to take. Algebra (there’s no reason for the alphabet and numbers to mix, except in very rare cases, like D20 type cases), Physics (what more do they need to know beyond what goes up, must come down), French (as if anyone from Bumfuck, Indiana could afford to go to France — okay maybe some can, but Eddie’s certainly not one of them that’s for damn sure), goddamn Physical Education (only way he’s running is if someone is chasing him, thank you very much). But the stupidest class of all has to be Study Hall.

An entire class dedicated to doing work for other classes? What kind of idiot dreamed this one up? Instead of letting them out an hour early, some guy, probably in a suit because all bad ideas come from guys in suits, decided to hold them hostage to do more work. It’s ridiculous. Not to mention, it’s one of the few times, outside of lunch, that the grades get to mingle with each other. Sure, lots of studying goes on in between freshmen drooling over seniors and sophomores paying juniors for last year’s test answers.

The only time Eddie actually liked study hall was during his sophomore year when he had it first period and could do all the homework he neglected to do the night before. It’s the only time it actually made sense. And the only time, thus far in his high school career, that Eddie actually turned in more assignments than not.

But now, he’s a senior stuck with study hall as his last class of the day, and he wants to die. Okay, maybe not die die. But die in the sense that he’d rather risk bodily harm escaping the hellscape that is the Hawkins library during 6th-period study hall than sit here. His freedom is so close — nothing but a few windows and a brick wall separating him from the brisk late-October air. Eddie can’t risk it, though. He’s already reached his detention quote for the semester, and if he wants to keep using the drama room for Hellfire meetings, he has to sit in this damn library seat and at least pretend to get some work done.

Which, honestly, isn’t the worst thing in the world. At least it gives him time to work on his latest Hellfire campaign without the prying eyes of Jeff and Gareth or the unnecessary questions from Freak. Sure, he’s supposed to be working on an essay for English Lit, but he doesn’t think Ms. Washington is going to appreciate his take on Frankenstein, so he’ll worry about coming up with a dumbed-down idea another day.

Besides, even focusing on his new campaign is hard enough with the idle chatter going on that the librarian is either pretending not to hear or is too tired of shushing them for.

It’s the usual sort of study hall gossip. Who’s screwing who. What teacher is going to pull a pop quiz tomorrow and become the biggest asshole at Hawkins High. The occasional nervous whispers of the geeks actually studying.

It’s all mindless chatter that drifts into the background when the topic of Tina’s Halloween Bash comes up. That’s the real gossip of the night. Who got the keg, and what other alcohol is being provided? Who is going to be the best dressed? What couple is going to get caught screwing in Tina’s parent’s bed? Are there going to be any good fights or breakups?

Eddie rolls his eyes. Jesus H. Christ, can’t anybody be original around here?

Unfortunately for Eddie, there’s no escaping Tina’s Halloween Bash since he’s been summoned to provide some extra party favors, as the “cool” kids like to call them. Eddie, never one to back down from being a thorn in a “cool” kid’s side, always responds with the same spiel: “Drugs. What you want is drugs, right? Or should I go raid Melvald’s for you?”

Whatever. Money is money, and Eddie can take all the money he can get his grubby hands on if he wants to get out of this shit-hole town when he graduates in June.

Glancing at his watch, he tips his head back in a silent groan of annoyance. Only ten minutes have passed since he slunk into the uncomfortable library seat. Christ, why does time move so slow, sometimes? Eddie tries to focus on his Hellfire notes in front of him, and he’s successful for all of thirty seconds before something catches his attention in the corner of his eye.

Nancy Wheeler and the former Hawkins High King, Steve Harrington, are whispering to each other by the pencil sharpener. He rolls his eyes. Of course, no one else in the library is paying them any mind. And why would they? Harrington fell from grace last year, and Wheeler isn’t exactly the “look at me” type. Still, Eddie finds them morbidly interesting in a way he finds all the tragic heterosexual couples in this stupid small town interesting.

Before Eddie has a chance to fall deeper into his cynical outlook on this stupid Hawkins High couple, Wheeler starts tugging Harrington toward the private study room in the back of the library. It’s a move that shocks Eddie to his core. Don’t get him wrong, he’s heard all bout Harrington’s little trysts in that very room over the years (thank you gossip mill for the very cheap porn), but he never would have assumed Wheeler would be the one tugging him toward it.

It’s that detour from who she’s supposed to be that has Eddie peeling himself off his chair. At least, that’s what he tells himself as he saunters toward the stack of books in the back of the library closest to the private room. If he hears moaning or anything remotely sounding like they’re hooking up, he promises himself he’ll leave. He’s a freak in many ways, but a creep, he is not.

Glancing over his shoulder, Eddie can see the two of them in the small room. They’re close but not close enough to be doing anything beyond talking. From the look on her face, doing anything of that sort isn’t even on her mind.

Interesting.

Eddie creeps closer.

“Barbara. It’s like nobody cares. Except her parents. And now they’re selling their house.”

“Nance—“

Wheeler rants about something, but he misses most of it. Only catching the very end.

“It’s destroying them.”

No shit, Eddie thinks with another dramatic eye roll. Of course, losing their only daughter is destroying them. The Hollands are one of the few families around here that actually have a heart. At least they did before Barbara tore it from them by running away. Or so the story goes. Eddie’s always been a bit suspicious of Holland’s disappearance. He knows the runaway type, and a straight-A girl, with a well-off family who loves them like Holland had doesn’t fit the bill.

“I know. Okay? I get it,” Harrington says, glancing away from Wheeler to peer out the window. Eddie grabs the first book on the shelf and buries his face in it. It must fool Steve because he starts talking again. “But listen, there’s nothing we can do about it.”

“Yeah, we could tell them the truth.”

“This isn’t some game, Nance. If they found out that we told any…” He trails off again, and Eddie reaches for another book.

Eyes peering over the pages, Eddie watches as he shuts the blinds before presumably returning to Wheeler. With the blinds shut and their voices even lower, he can no longer hear what they’re talking about. Which is a damn shame because Eddie’s never been more curious about what the disgraced King was about to say than right now.

+ + +

“M’telling you guys. It was weird,” Eddie says through a mouthful of Doritos.

They’re hanging out in Gareth’s garage. Jeff sits in the old recliner while Gareth stays perched behind his drum kit. Freak is running late, as usual, though Eddie’s not too pressed about it today. Too distracted filling the boys in on what he overheard in the library.

“I don’t know man; it sounds like she was just concerned about her best friend,” Gareth says, lightly tapping his drumsticks on his snare.

“Yeah, those two were inseparable, remember.”

“All the more reason why it’s weird she’s been mopping around lately. Obviously, she knows where Holland is. Or what happened to her.”

“Not this again,” Jeff groans, sinking further into the recliner.

“Yes, this again,” Eddie retorts, throwing Jeff an intense glare. “This town is weird as shit. If the Byers kid can come back from the dead—“

“I thought they proved it wasn’t actually Byers they found in the quarry,” The Freak says, finally joining them in the garage.

“They did, but Eddie still thinks—“

“Shut up!” Eddie shouts, taking a moment to throw a Dorito at all of their heads. “Let me level with you for a second, okay? Yeah, sure, they said that kid wasn’t Byers, but they never said whose kid it was, which is weird. And then right after that, they “find” Holland’s car? It’s too coincidental, man. You know a story isn’t right when it’s too easy.”

“This isn’t one of our campaigns,” Gareth sighs. “Sometimes things really are just accidental coincidences.”

Eddie shakes his head, running his Dorito-stained fingers over his face. “Nah, man, m’not buying it this time. Harrington and Wheeler know what really happened to Holland. And I think they’re responsible for it.”

“So, what?” Jeff asks, leaning forward so his elbows rest on his knees. “You think they made her disappear or something.”

“Maybe Harrington got Holland knocked up, and his family gave her money to leave.”

“See!” Eddie shouts, slapping his hands together as he jumps on the balls of his feet. “Freak gets it! That’s the kind of thing I’m talking about.”

“Okay, but if Harrington knocked Wheeler’s best friend up, why would she still be dating him?” Jeff asks.

“And why would they both be hiding her from her parents?” Gareth adds.

Okay, so maybe these are valid questions, but Eddie doesn’t appreciate the doubts they’re throwing at him. “I don’t appreciate you doubting me,” he says plainly. “You’ll see. M’gonna figure this out.”

“Right, just like you figured out that Ms. O’Donnell was actually failing you for a reason and not because she had some vendetta against Wayne for not dating her.”

“Hey. That was a good theory, okay. One I still think is true, by the way.” Turning his back on the boys, Eddie crosses the room and tosses the empty bag of Doritos into the trash bin before heading towards his badly parked van.

“I thought we were practicing!” Gareth shouts after him.

“Just let him go,” Jeff sighs. “He’s impossible to work with when he’s in conspiracy theory mode.”

Eddie flips Jeff off, climbing into the van. “I’ll see you boys tomorrow.”

+ + +

Eddie’s been at Tina’s party for an entire hour and a half, and there’s still no sign of Harrington or Wheeler. Not that he’s actively searching them out, of course. He’s just had some downtime in between upselling Hagan for the world’s shittiest pot he could get his hands on, and explaining to some cheerleader how Special K hits differently if you snort it. Plus, his supply ran out about ten minutes ago, so he’s just buying time before someone notices him lingering and kicks his ass to the curb.

He’s about to save himself and whatever jock gets thrown his way the trouble, when he spots Harrington and Wheeler arguing by the punch bowl. He’s too far away to hear what they’re saying, but he has a sneaking suspicion it has less to do with the conversation he heard in the library and more to do with Wheeler’s drunken state. Case in point: the red liquid she just spilled all over her blouse.

Chasing after her, Harrington cuts through the crowd and makes his way toward one of the bathrooms. Eddie waits a minute before following them down the crowded hallway. Thankfully, no one is in line for this bathroom — still too early in the night for the alcohol to have hit their bladders — so he’s first in the unofficial bathroom line. Leaning casually against the wall, Eddie angles his ear closer to the door so he can hear inside.

It takes a minute for his ears to tune out the music and nonsense chatter, but when they do, he can clearly hear Wheeler slurring her words.

“You’re pretending like everything’s okay. You know, like we didn’t… like we didn’t kill Barb.”

Eddie’s never experienced shock before, at least, he doesn’t think he has; the early days of his life are a little hazy around the edges, but that’s the only word he thinks fits what he’s experiencing right now. Part of him wants to shove his ear closer to the door to continue listing, while the other part of him wants to run for the hills, screaming in victory. And if he’s straight with himself, maybe screaming in fear a little, too. Harrington and Wheeler murderers? Who knew?

He knew, that’s who!

He knew there was something shady going on between those two.

Pressing his ear closer, he can hear Wheeler slurring more words, though he’s not exactly sure what she’s saying. Honestly, he doesn’t really care what she’s saying. He’s listening for Harrington’s response right now. What does the mighty King have to say about the bomb she’s just dropped?

“This is bullshit,” she slurs.

“Like we’re in love?” Steve asks.

Huh, clearly, Eddie missed a step or two in his shocked state. He’s not exactly sure how the conversation strayed from them killing Holland to their, clearly, toxic relationship, but the fact it did is all the proof Eddie needs. If they didn’t kill her, Harrington would have been vehemently denying her claim. And yet, he sounds like a kicked puppy dog right now because she doesn’t love him.

Join the club, Harrington.

The doorknob starts to jiggle, and Eddie bolts. It’s not that he’s afraid about coming face-to-face with the two who apparently killed Holland. It’s just that, well, he needs a minute to think about the information he’s just learned.

+ + +

With Gareth and Freak both busy supervising their siblings around Hawkins and Jeff on candy duty for his family’s house, Eddie has no one to share the good bad news with. RIP Holland and all that, but he’s sitting on some serious dirt right now.

The good part of Eddie’s brain knows he should head straight for the police station. Pull good ole’ Chief Hopper aside and gloat about how he did his job for him. But Eddie’s spent enough time at the stuffy station to know no one is going to believe him especially not against Harrington and Wheeler. He’d have better luck marching in there and turning himself in for her murder. Not that he’s going to do that.

He supposes he could tell Wayne about it, but he doesn’t need to be dragging his uncle into any more of his messes. And since Eddie has no proof beyond overhearing a drunken confession, a mess it’ll surely turn into.

So, he opts for the third option and heads out to Skull Rock to do some thinking.

Maybe Freak is right, and it was some sort of jealous rage brought on by a Holland-Harrington pregnancy. Or maybe Holland saw something she shouldn’t have; the possibilities are endless, and Eddie’s imagination is limitless.

Eventually, he circles back to what he’s supposed to do with this information. Should he turn them in? Maybe not Wheeler; she seems like she’s experienced enough guilt as it and the girl has a bright future or whatever it is the teachers are always talking about. Harrington, though? Harrington, he should turn in, right? I mean, he didn’t even seem phased when Wheeler brought up the murder. Eddie’s watched enough horror movies to know that’s psychopath behavior right there. Besides, it would be nice to see the King behind bars. But then again, he hasn’t been the King in a while. And Harrington’s never really done anything to Eddie beyond standing idle while Hagan threw slurs at him. But he’s not hanging out with Hagan anymore, so maybe he should cut him some slack.

Though they did murder someone.

Jesus H. Christ.

Maybe this is why they say curiosity killed the cat — Eddie’s head is throbbing. He’s about to take another hit from his joint when he hears leaves crunching in the distance.

Shit.

Someone’s coming.

Snubbing out his joint against the rock, Eddie tries his best to make it seem like he’s just here, escaping the busy Halloween night. Which, like, he definitely is, but he can’t be too safe. Especially not when there are two teenage murderers on the loose.

“She thinks m’bullshit? She’s bullshit! Bullshit.”

The voice is unmistakable.

Jesus H. Christ could tonight get any weirder.

Eddie’s only escape is to run deeper into the forest, and he’s not about to do that so he makes himself comfortable on top of Skull Rock like a fucking sitting duck. Searching the pockets of his vest, he yanks out a pack of cigarettes and his lighter. Neither of which he was looking for. Of course, he left his pocket knife in his van. Stupid. So stupid!

There’s a moment of silence before Harrington emerges from the clearing. The moon is bright above them, making Steve’s tear-stained cheeks and red-rimmed eyes glow in the otherwise dark forest.

Maybe he is feeling guilty after all.

“Ah, fuck,” Harrington groans, stumbling to the ground.

Eddie watches as he rolls around for a moment, struggling to find his footing. If Eddie were a mean person, he might let Harrington suffer. But something about his behavior reminds him of a wounded animal, and Eddie’s always had a soft spot for bruised and broken things.

“Shit, Harrington, you okay?” Eddie asks, jumping down.

Eddie’s boots crunch against the leaves, startling Harrington. He manages to pull himself into a seated position and brandishes a near empty beer bottle in Eddie’s direction. “Stay back!”

“Woah, man,” Eddie yelps, hands raised in surrender in front of him. “Don’t kill me.”

“Oh, s’you,” Steve says, slumping against the tree behind him. He tosses the beer bottle aside and runs both his hands over his face. “Jesus. Why does everyone think I would kill s-someone?”

“Uh,” Eddie stutters, glancing around. Now’s his chance to make a break for it. Put those hours of physical education to good use and sprint to the van before Harrington has a chance to make him his next victim. But there’s something in Steve’s sad eyes and dejected voice that makes Eddie stay. “‘Cause you have killed someone before?”

“Man, what the hell are you talking about?” Harrington snaps, fumbling to get out of his jacket. “I’ve n-never killed anyone.”

“So, you didn’t kill Barbara Holland, then?”

“No! Jesus, ‘course not. Barb was… Barb was nice. She was good. Like Nance. Better than Nance, maybe. I don’t know,” Harrington whines, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Barb she’s… yeah, man, she’s dead. But I didn’t have anything to do with that. N-not in the way you think I did, at least.”

Harrington’s not making a lot of sense, which only spurs Eddie’s curiosity on more. Closing the distance between them, Eddie hops to a squat in front of him. “But you did have something to do with what happened to her?”

“Shit, man,” Harrington groans, words slurring more more. “S’complicated, okay. I can’t talk about it with you or her parents or anyone. Or else they’ll come for me or Nance or our families and then we’ll all be toast like Barb. And that… that thing that came out of the Byers’ wall.”

Complicated? Jesus H. Christ, Eddie’s never heard anything more complicated than the jumble of words that just left Harrington’s mouth. He can feel his heart racing in his chest, the realization that they’re alone in the woods talking about something someone doesn’t want Harrington talking about.

“What?” Eddie says more to himself than to Steve. “Harrington, what thing in the Byers wall? You’re not making any sense!”

“The thing. You know, the… the,” Steve hiccups. “The thing we can’t talk ‘bout, else they’ll come for us next.”

Someone will come for him and his family if he reveals what happened to Barb? And the thing in the Byers wall? He wants to ask who would come. What would happen? Is he being blackmailed? There are so many questions dancing on the tip of his tongue, but none of them win the war.

“Harrington, man,” Eddie says, shaking his head. “Are you in trouble? Do you, like, need help or something?”

Finally, freeing himself from his jacket, Harrington lifts his head and looks up. There’s a moment where Eddie’s life flashes before his eyes, but then the sad replay of his life is interrupted by Harrington’s hand on his cheek. A dopey-looking grin on his face as he squints up at Eddie.

“You have pretty eyes, M-m-munson. Anyone ever tell you that?” Steve slurs before promptly passing out against the tree.

What the hell has Eddie gotten himself into?

#eddiemonth #eddie munson #eddie munson fic #eddie munson ficlet #steve harrington #steve harrington fic #steve harrington ficlet #nancy wheeler #nancy wheeler fic #nancy wheeler ficlet #stancy #stancy ficlet #stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things season 2 #implied steddie #steddie #dani writes

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hannibaldjarin · 9 months

Text

Before the Upside Down, Steve Harrington could sleep like the dead. Once he laid his head on the checkered pattern pillow, Steve would be oblivious to anything happening in the world around him as he found solace in his dreams.

Steve would never admit it to Tommy H or Carol, but his dreams were his only safe place. In Steve's dream world, he wasn't the son to absent parents or the perfect King Steve; he was whatever version of himself that would've never been allowed around the Harringtons or the population at Hawkins High. Steve was comforted by the anonymity that was created as he slept till an alarm or the sunlight peeking through his curtains woke him.

Before the Upside Down, Eddie Munson would laugh as he told the rest of Corroded Coffin about how much he slept during the weekend. But, groan when Uncle Wayne stomped into his bedroom at 4pm wondering, "Boy, since when did you become a vampire?"

Basically, Eddie found it hilarious that he could sleep 16 hours a day and still go to bed at 9pm every night. One thing about Eddie Munson before that fated afternoon with Chrissy Cunningham, he could sleep like a corpse and never worry about sleep avoiding his clutches. Because as Uncle Wayne or a member of Corroded Coffin could tell anyone, Eddie loved to sleep and would theoretically kill anyone who tried to disrupt his slumber.

After the Upside Down, Eddie Munson and Steve Harrington found solace in one another as they struggled to remember who they were before circumstances led them to emotional, mental, and physical scars. Steve could no longer find comfort in his dream world as it replayed his most traumatizing moments from the last couple of years. Eddie could no longer sleep like the dead since he actually knew what it felt like to lay limp and face death.

Eddie and Steve stare into one another's eyes as they share a pillow in Steve's massive bed. Eddie whispers to Steve about how envious he is of his past self as he dramatically recounts Uncle Wayne's stomps or Corroded Coffin's scoffs. As Eddie spoke, Steve wonders if Eddie could be trusted with his deepest secrets about who he wishes he could be.

As Eddie's giggles fade into the dark of the night, Steve clears in throat and begins to tell Eddie about the lack of safety he has felt since turning 12 and being handed bundles of money that were to be budgeted until his parents came back home from whatever business trip Jonathan Harrington needed to attend. Steve mumbles about Tommy and Carol, or anyone else, never being able to fill the hollow space that was this mausoleum of a house until Dustin Henderson hijacked Nancy's roses and forced Steve to go on a wild demo dog chase. With a smile that actually reaches Steve's eyes, he tells Eddie how he finally knew what a mutual love felt like when Robin refused to get a new job without Steve.

Eddie desperately wants to read between the lines and believe himself to be someone who brought something into Steve's life. The begging words he sends up to whatever universal force doesn't want to continue fucking his life are interrupted as Steve looks Eddie in the eyes and admits, "Eddie Munson, you brought light and noise into my life."

Steve Harrington never understood how significant it was to feel the sun on his skin until Eddie woke up from his coma after his encounter with the bats, and begged for the blinds in his hospital room to be opened. Eddie's smile changed as he adjusted to the new scars on his skin, but Steve has never seen something so beautiful in his life.

Steve flinched in noisy environments when he remembers how angry his father would get if Steve existed too loudly. But, since Eddie took Steve to the middle of nowhere and convinced him to just scream, Steve has found himself seeking out music that taught him to release his emotions instead of pushing them further and further down.

Steve Harrington finally found safety in the real world when Eddie Munson whispers, "Stevie, please let me kiss you."

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devondespresso · 7 months

Text

Never Again

TWs: Implied past sa (coercion, not from nancy's experience and not directly described), past character death (Barb), accidental self-injury (and blood), and overall themes of grief (if you're worried about the sa tw i have a brief explanation of the context in the note on ao3)

This is the version of Never Again that has 18+ content changed to just kissing. (shoutout still to @museumgiftshoperaser for beta-ing the nsfw version 💕) **It still has implied sa and all other trigger warning still apply**

ao3

___

Her heart was racing, her mind tuned into every touch and feeling, electric excitement buzzing in her skin at the soft kiss they shared by her bed. Gentle breaths hitting her skin and the echo of her own bouncing back.

No shirts, just the soft contact of skin as Steve held her waist and she held his neck.

She led him over and down to sit on the bed, keeping the contact above all else.

Warm, soft, and absolutely thrilling.

Just go home… okay…

Her heart was racing.

Her mind tuned into every touch and feeling.

An electric anxiety buzzing through her skin and swimming in her gut.

He pulled away.

“Hey, what’s wrong?”

He looked at her with that face. She shook her head, glancing away and trying to get herself back into it. It’s okay, it’s fine, you’re okay.

I’m fine.

Just go home, okay.

“Nancy.” he leaned back fully, “What’s going on, are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, just. Overwhelmed.” she smiled, “I’m okay. We can keep going.”

He studied her face for a moment.

“You’re sure?”

“Yes,” she made herself roll her eyes and smile.

“Okay,” he said, leaning back in more carefully than before, “You have to tell me if you want to stop, okay?”

“I told you I’m fine.” she made herself laugh. She grabbed around his neck and pulled him for another kiss.

He was tense with caution for a few moments. She ran a hand through his hair and he relaxed.

..This isn’t like you…

She chased the feelings, the warmth and excitement and thrill.

..Nance.

She deepened the kiss, going stronger and disregarding the need for breath.

It was still warm. But it stopped being soft, desperate tightness in her lungs and tears in her eyes slowly outshining any joy.

Just go ahead and go home, okay.

A few tears escaped and she barely separated to catch her breath. The tightness in her chest only worsened as her lungs filled with air.

She needed out.

So she pulled back, getting up and rushing to the door.

“Nanc- Nancy! What’s the matter? Nance?”

Nothing.

She tried cold water and breathing, but they did nothing. Dread still twisted at her insides, heart still too fast, tears still running wild and for no good reason.

“Nancy. It’s Steve. I have your shirt, do you want me to leave it on the door knob or can I come in?”

“No no no it’s fin-” her breath cut her off. She took another in, deep, “I’ll be back in a minute.”

“No, we’re stopping. I can leave the shirt on the knob for you.”

“Steve, it’s okay, I’m just being… weird. It’s not a big deal.”

Silence from the other side of the door, long enough for her to think maybe he left already.

He took a deep breath from behind the door.

“Nance, can I come in?”

She took a moment to breathe and wipe her eyes.

“Yeah.”

The door opened slowly and Steve already had his shirt back on. He closed the door behind him, crouching in front of her.

"Something is wrong." And he held her shirt out to her. More tears spilled out as she took it, and they agreed with him for her.

Steve sat on the floor and leaned back against the wall as she put the shirt on, slower than she had to.

“Can you tell me what’s going on?” he asked gently after she was done.

“I-” she shook her head, looking for the most normal way to describe it.

“Did I do something to make you upset?”

“No, no. You’re fine, I promise, I- It’s just me being weird, nothing to do with you.”

He studied her face. She wiped at her tears with her sleeve. He reached out and stopped, then grabbed her a towel from by the sink.

“You can touch me, it's fine.”

“Good to know.”

Silence for a moment.

“You know you don’t have to, y’know… we don't have to sleep together. Like, ever, if you don’t want to.”

“That’s not…” she paused. It's not. But it leads where she needs to go. “Never, huh? You’re okay with never sleeping with someone ever again?”

“Yeah. Especially if you don’t want to, okay? You’re not losing anything if you decide you never want to do it again.”

She gave him a look.

“You’d stay in a relationship where you can never sleep with your girlfriend.”

“If I happened to love this girl, I’d do pretty much anything." he smiled, "Maybe even, oh I don’t know, run towards a 10ft tall monster man with a baseball bat I found on the ground,” he nudged her leg, “Y’know, if this girl was really special.”