Any Nancy wheeler fics perhaps…?
New Girl in Town
(Nancy Wheeler x fem!reader)
Summary : Nancy just moved into her dorm at Emerson, expecting some nightmare roommate. She wasn't prepared to find a smart, pretty girl waiting for her.
Warnings / Tags : fluff, pining, college!Nancy + r, intoxication (@ a party), lowk nervous!Nancy
Notes : oml i went through so many iterations of this fic since its been forever since ive written anything for ST so pls dont mind if this is a little ooc </33
i hope this does the req justice !! 🫶
Nancy Wheeler wasn’t exactly excited to go to college. Sure, she was excited to get some distraction from everything back home… but it sort of felt wrong, just leaving like that. Still, she reassured her mom over and over again that she would make the best of it. That she would make it worth it.
She gave her mom one last goodbye hug outside of the entryway to her new dorm. After Karen drove her all the way to Emerson, she was half convinced her mom wouldn’t end up letting go at all and that she’d just stay the night. Maybe Nancy was secretly hoping for the whole thing. A little stability in her life. Something familiar—even if that thing was her overbearing mother. Plus, Nancy had been racking through all the possibilities in her head on the way here. What if her dormmate was some self obsessed, materialist bimbo who just wanted to talk about boys with her? What if it was some stoner who’d try to get Nancy to come smoke with her? The possibilities were endless. And they commonly kept coming as she dragged her duffel bag and suitcase up to her dorm.
The sight she saw when she opened the door was… unexpected.
A clean, empty bed on one side and, on the other, a girl, definitely her age, sitting on a well made bed with a green floral blanket. Her side of the room was already decorated. A calendar hung on the side of the bed, along with a wall full of polaroids. Beside her was a bedside table with a small lamp and a stack of books—one of which the girl on the bed was currently reading. She spotted The Handmaid’s Tale… The Color Purple… Beloved… What the hell? Of all the issues Nancy was picturing, someone who was more well read than her was not on the list.
“Oh, hi! You must be my new roommate?”
Nancy snapped her gaze back up to the girl on the bed—you. She smiled, taking you in for a second. You’re pretty. Like, really pretty. Not too much makeup, hair clearly not sticky with spray. Just pretty in this refreshingly natural way after Hawkins. She realizes she’s staring after a moment. Her cheeks go hot before she speaks.
“Yeah. I’m Nancy. It’s nice to meet you.” She asks as she drags her bag into the room and smooths out her sweater, suddenly very conscious of the wrinkles from the drive over. Nancy glances at you.
Play it cool, she reminds herself. No reason to be acting weird right now.
“It’s nice to know that my roommate isn’t a total nutcase.” She mumbles as she looks away, tossing her bag onto the bare bed.
You laugh from behind her. Nancy feels her ears heat up. What is going on with her?
“How do you know I'm not a total nutcase?”
Nancy pauses. How does she know you’re not a nut case? Well. She doesn’t. Technically. But you’re organized, clearly at least somewhat of an intellectual, and you’re beautiful. Not that beautiful can’t be nutcases… but that part might be influencing her impression a little.
“You seem organized. Most insane people aren’t very organized.” She’s speaking from experience.
“I dunno. Only time can tell.” Nancy turns around then, giving you a look. Sarcasm like yours would usually piss her off. But you kind of pull it off. That much is clear from the small smile on her face.
In the first week, you and Nancy get close. Like, much closer than Nancy had imagined she ever would be with her roommate. She still couldn’t really get the hang of being at Emerson yet… but you made it easier. Lunches spent talking about your professors, nights that went until the sun was down, both of you sharing details about yourselves like little offerings—it all helped Nancy feel a little more natural here. It made her feel a little better about making the move from Hawkins, at least.
“Okay. Come on.” You sigh dramatically, hopping up to sit on the edge of Nancy’s bed. “It’s one party. We can just have a few drinks and mingle a bit and then leave!”
Nancy is sitting in bed, looking at you with this conflicted expression. She doesn’t do parties. Not anymore. She has more important things to worry about. But, on the other hand… you’re gonna be there.
“I just don’t get why you want to go so badly. These things are always boring anyway.” Nancy complains, scooting over to sit beside you, legs dangling off the bed.
“Because it’ll be fun, Nance!” Before Nancy can process what exactly is happening, you reach over and place your hands on her thigh. Like it’s nothing. And then you look at her with this stupidly cute pout. “Please? I don’t want to go alone.”
Nancy feels herself heating up for a moment. Her cheeks warm as she glances down at your hand on her thigh—even though the fabric of her pants—and then… she gets this warm feeling low in her stomach. Fuck. She clears her throat.
“Fine. I’ll go.”
“Really?” You snap back up, hands flying up to Nancy’s shoulders instead. She finally manages to take a normal breath.
“Yes. But we leave after a few drinks, okay?”
“Deal.”
The party was exactly what Nancy expected: just like one of Steve’s parties back in Hawkins. Sure, maybe a few more people and a bigger venue, but it’s all the same thing in a different year. Still, she got herself dressed up—hair curled perfectly, a pair of pinstripe trousers on with a striped sweater tucked in. She walks in just half a step behind you, taking it in as you smile and greet people, beelining for the kitchen. The music is, at least, slightly less loud in there.
“What do you want to drink?” You have to raise your voice so that Nancy can hear you over the music still.
“Um… beer?” The most basic choice Nancy can think of right now. You don't even respond before Nancy sees you weave through the crowd to grab a beer can and to pour yourself a pretty generous cup of cheap flavored vodka…. and take a large sip right then.
“Okay. Wow.” Nancy just blinks at you as she takes the beer. “I think our ideas of just a few drinks are really different.”
“Relax, Wheeler.” You laugh softly, grabbing her hand to tug her closer. “It’s a party. I want you to have fun tonight.”
Nancy feels her cheeks burning the second your fingers are laced with hers. A slew of questions swarm her mind. Why does she always touch me so casually? Is she like this with everyone? Why am I reacting like this? Am I going insane?
“I’m having fun.” She says absently, focusing back on you. It’s a mechanical sort of response.
“Yeah, right.” You snort a laugh as you take a big sip from your drink. Before Nancy can process, you’re tugging her along. “C’mon. You need to mingle.”
Nancy’s inner voice is screaming: “this is stupid” at her right now, but she doesn’t stop. Because this is the first time since leaving Hawkins—fuck, probably since months, maybe even years before leaving Hawkins—that she’s actually willing to let herself relax. Because you’re here. And you’re smiling stupidly brightly and pulling her close and actually making her feel normal. And she’s going to let herself have this.
“Naancee!” Nancy jolts as she feels a pair of arms wrap around her from behind. Yours. And you’re drunkenly cooing right into her ear. She’d lost you about an hour ago when you went off to play beer pong, leaving her in the living room, alone with some group of also somewhat sober people. At least some people she’d seen around campus.
“Hey.” Nancy laughs, turning her head to look at you. Fuck, you’re close. Really close. Her eyes drop to your lips before she can stop herself. She’s so close to just… “You’ve had your few drinks, huh?” She cuts her wandering thoughts off quickly.
“Yep.” You tilt your head, leaving a quick kiss just below Nancy’s ear. She goes stiff immediately. Noticeably so. Thankfully, you’re drunk enough to let it go. “Walk back to the dorm with me?” Your voice comes out in a low, almost slurred mumble.
“Yeah. Sure. Um, let’s just…” She turns slowly, awkwardly placing her hands on your arms to make sure you’re steady. She looks into your eyes for a long moment. Then down at your lips. Before she can make a stupid decision, her arm wraps around your waist—warm and steadying through your shirt—just to make sure you don’t fall on her watch.
“Okay, okay, easy.” Nancy tries to hide a laugh when you stumble through the door to your shared dorm. She can’t help it bubbling up.
“Don’t laugh at me!” You’re both fully in the room now, Nancy clicking the door shut… and you’re both laughing. Because seeing Nancy smile like that just warmed something in you that you couldn’t really name. “Stop it—stop looking at me like that!” You playfully shove her shoulders through a laugh.
Except, you don’t let go. Your hands linger in her shoulders, holding onto her. Nancy’s now fully laughing, her hands coming up with no hesitation this time, steadying on your waist. Her fingers splay casually along the small of your back.
“I’m not looking at you like anything. You’re just drunk.”
“Bullshit.” You scoff, finally stilling, fingers sliding just slightly into Nancy’s hair. Her smile immediately softens. The room goes much, much quieter. “You’ve been looking at me funny all night.”
“I don’t—I haven’t-“ Nancy sputters defensively for half a second before realizing no good excuse is going to come out. The beer has her just tipsy enough to not overthink every possible outcome of each of her actions. So she pauses. Then just… says it. “I just think you look really pretty tonight.”
Now the room goes silent. You could hear a pin drop.
“You… think I'm pretty?” There’s no more laughter coming from your lips. No more drunk mumbles. Just curiosity.
Nancy tries to play it cool.
“Well, yes. Objectively. You’re pretty.” It seems like she’s trying to backtrack now. Instead of letting her, you take a half step closer.
The space between you is… tiny. There’s barely a foot of emptiness and her hands are still on your waist, yours are still gently playing with her hair. Something has shifted in the room.
“But you were looking at me funny specifically because you thought I looked pretty tonight.” You speak slowly, both to avoid the slurring and to make sure nothing shatters the fragile quiet between you two.
Nancy takes a deep breath. She looks at you—really looks at you—for a long moment. Then, as if drawn by some magnetic force, she looks down at your lips. Your pink, glossy lips.
Nancy Wheeler is currently drawing a blank. Her hands tighten their grip on your waist gently, like she’s holding herself back.
“I just…”
Before Nancy can get a thought out, your lips are in hers. Her eyes go wide for a moment, her body going stiff—she hasn’t kissed anyone since her now ex boyfriend (fiancée?) Jonathan. Let alone a girl. A really beautiful, smart girl.
Nancy’s leaning in without a second thought. She kisses you back carefully, savoring the way your lips move against hers for as long as she can.
The room goes silent again when you pull away, breathing slightly heavy, eyes half lidded. “I’ve really wanted to do that since you moved in.”
Nancy lets out a noise—surprise? Amusement? something in between, probably—when you admit how long you’ve waited for a simple kiss. And when you confirm that you’ve wanted this just as long as she has, even if she hadn’t exactly admitted it to herself.
“Me too.” This time, Nancy is the one who leans in, tugging you against her as she kisses you, deep and slow and steady—more confident. Because you want this. Just as much as she does. And she’s not letting go now.
