Releasing another snippet of some stancy fic because I am shameless and love to share.
Below the cut because it's a little 👀
"Wait-" She kisses his mouth with a fury, "—Nancy, wait."
"What?" She huffs. She can feel electricity building between her thighs, and with all the love she can muster, she really wants to just shut him up. Just for the moment.
"Is this…are you sure this is what you want?"
His hesitation is palpable, and for a moment Nancy can feel their liminal paradise quickly fading into reality.
Space to be with somebody else?
Her breathing is growing more rapid, and all Nancy can think about it the fact that she might not be here tomorrow.
It was never like that.
Even though he's hovering above her, Nancy can feel the heady haze of control wash over her. The last few months (hell, the last few years) have been nothing but loss after loss. Barb, Fred, Max, her parents, Holly, Jonathan...Nancy hasn't had the ability to fully sit with just how much of her world has vanished.
Except for Steve. Steve, who was there when she needed him (and when she didn't). Steve, who always made an effort to make her smile. Steve, who protected the kids when she couldn't. He's still here.
He's still here.
(But for how long?)
"What I want," she starts, slow, "is for you to—please—stop thinking for one minute, and let this happen." If there is a tomorrow, they can deal with it then.
He dips his head, and maybe she is being too harsh. He's always been sensitive to her words, always holding her opinion as gospel. It made her feel powerful as a junior, the most beautiful boy in Hawkins following her every word (until it all felt too hollow, to empty, without the warm, conspiratory smiles she shared with Barb during their late-night phone calls), but now something about it feels cruel.
She sees it. The looks he casts her way. The guilt that washes over his face in a rosebud blush when her hand accidentally grazes his arm, or when he stares a little too long at her during their mission debriefs. Most days, she wishes she could just smack him on the head to snap out of it. Others, she finds herself memorizing his gaze during late nights in her bedroom, with locked doors and light moans.
Nancy almost tells him she is sorry. For what? She can't keep count. Before the words pour out of her mouth, however, he presses his lips against the valley between her breasts, and Nancy's eyes flutter at the warmth. His hands are now positioned on both sides of her hips, holding her gently in place.
She wraps her legs around his waist, want deep in her bones. Her hands find their way into his hair, and the sounds he makes as she twists his curls is prettier than any musical note Nancy has ever heard. Steve works his way down her torse, his nose lightly trailing down the path his lips previously forged, and she feels the lightest fluttering of his lashes against her skin.
