#Robin helps them find a new place to live when Steve is too embarrassed to leave the house | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

blushweddinggowns · 2 years

Text

Eddie was biting at his nails as he paced around the apartment.

Steve still wasn't back.

He still wasn’t back and it was an hour past when he said he would be.

He checked out the front window every few minutes, praying that he would show soon. He wouldn't be able to take this all night, he was only ten minutes away from finding him himself, parents be damned. He was probably overreacting, Steve had insisted he was overreacting, but nothing about this felt right.

Two years they had been together, two years and Steve hadn’t seen them once. They had been at their vacation home in Jersey when things went to shit, and decided to stay there for the foreseeable future, son be damned. There were a few calls here and there, maybe once every two months, calls that Steve was always expected to initiate, calls that he would walk away from downcast and depressed, always crawling into Eddie’s lap with a short, “I don’t want to talk about it.”

Eddie’s not exactly proud, but he had eavesdropped once on the other line, morbid curiosity and worry taking full control. It was his dad who picked up, who completely ignored Steve’s small, “Can I talk to mom?” to berate him over still living at home, and how he was lucky that the housing market in Hawkins was at its worst or he’d be homeless, and how it was about time he started to pay some rent.

“If you can actually learn to be responsible down there, we might let you live with us when the house is sold, whenever that may be. But we'll be damned if we let a free-loader stay in our home. Do you understand Steven?”

He hadn’t even said goodbye when he was done, just a short, “Your mothers sleeping, I’ll tell her you called,” and the click of the phone.

Steve hadn’t set foot in his old house for nearly a month before that call, it was more of a glorified storage unit if anything. Steve had basically moved in with him and Wayne when they were still dancing around each other, and he could probably count the times they’d slept apart in the past two years on one hand.

And he was already paying rent, in his own way. Even when Wayne had absolutely refused to take a dime from Steve the first time he’d tried it.

“Just keep my Eddie out of trouble and smiling, and you can stay here as long as you want, free of charge,” The embarrassing, wonderful old fuck.

It helped that Steve was slowly becoming Wayne’s new favorite, because his uncle had fantastic taste, and Steve was probably the sole reason they had stopped eating cut up hot dogs and canned green beans every other day.

So Steve bought groceries, gas, even snuck in a few twenties into Wayne’s wallet every month, the little weirdo. He cooked and cleaned, forcing Wayne and Eddie to do the same, out of the sheer guilt of watching someone so sweet do all of their dirty work.

It’s not that Eddie and Wayne couldn’t take care of themselves, they could, but it had been just the two of them for so long, and Wayne had been a mill working bachelor living in a trailer park before Eddie came along, he hadn’t been brimming with knowledge on how to keep a clean house, just a moderately decent one that CPS wouldn’t raise a brow to.

But Steve…Steve was a cleaner.

“You learn a thing or two when you gotta get rid of all traces of a house party,” he had laughed, when Eddie had caught him cleaning under the couch, a concept neither Wayne or he had ever grasped. Though that explanation hadn’t explained how he was so good at cooking.

It had been almost shocking the first time Steve had cooked for him. He loved Steve, he really did, respected him too, but back then the guy basically subsisted on granola bars and pop tarts, and it was Robin or Eddie who usually had to shove real food down his throat, even if it was from a shitty fast food place half the time.

He couldn’t really be blamed for the expectation that Steve couldn’t cook for shit. So imagine his surprise when Steve blew him away with something he hadn’t even heard of before, beef bourg-something, which ended up being about the best thing Eddie had ever tasted.

“You can’t be gorgeous, sweet, and a good cook Stevie, you gotta pick a lane here.” He had been worried for a split second that he’d gone too far with the gorgeous and sweet bit, but Steve had just laughed, so obviously pleased that Eddie liked what he made. Which, in hindsight, Eddie should have taken as a massive green flag, it could have saved him weeks of pining.

It became a regular occurrence after that, and Steve would always glow from the approval he would get from Wayne and Eddie, like they were doing him a favor by eating delicious food.

“My mom used to like it, when I cooked,” Steve had admitted, much later one night, “Dad hated it, said that it was a short fall to being a fag, but my mom…she always said thank you. Always smiled. She’d ask me about my day sometimes, if I made something she really liked.”

“I like doing it,” he confessed, “But I haven’t had anyone to cook for in a long time."

"Steve…"

“But now I do.” Steve interrupted with a grin, so sincere as he grasped Eddie’s hand, “For someone who deserves it."

Eddie had kissed him silly that night.

He still wasn’t sure if he actually deserved it, but he could agree that the Harringtons certainly did not. He didn’t even know what the fuckers looked liked. Their house was always shockingly impersonal, no family photos ever in sight, just expensive meaningless art that went with the furniture.

So why were they calling now? And how did they know to call Eddie’s house?

It had been Wayne who picked up the phone, just on his way out, eyebrows raising to his hairline as he passed it to Steve. It had been a short call, and then Steve was getting dressed, trying and failing to reassure Eddie that everything was fine.

“It happens sometimes, when they get back, it’s like a checklist item, to see me.” Steve had said, shrugging on Eddie’s jacket. He was failing to reassure him, not when he could see his hands shaking as he tied his shoes, “I’ll be fine. It will be one awakward dinner, and then I’ll be back before you know it.”

Eddie watched him, trying to process the whiplash of Steve being calmly cuddled up to his side to getting ready to rush out the door.

“If it’s not gonna take long then I can just wait in the car baby, it’s not that big a deal-”

“Eddie, no,” He was firm and unyielding, but was refusing to look Eddie in the eye,“I’ll be fine, trust me okay?”

He kissed his cheek on the way out the door, “Nine at the latest, I swear.”

Eddie didn’t trust him, not with this. Steve didn’t talk about his parents much, but the small things he had been able to coax out of him were never good. Selfish, neglectful, mean, but he wouldn’t elaborate, never going further than small stories and tidbits. Eddie never pushed him, never asked explicitly, but he had a pretty strong suspicion it didn’t end there.

Steve had scars, some he would talk about and others he wouldn’t. He could perfectly recite the story of the mark on his chin, even though he was messed up on truth serum with a russian induced concussion, but when asked about the thin, silvery lines that adorned his body, he suddenly couldn’t remember a thing.

And Eddie wasn’t the only one suspicious, the rumor mill of Hawkins was strong. Daniel Harrington was known for his temper, and was borderline psychotic in highschool according to Wayne, always trying to pick fights, and always buying his way out of the consequences.

Back in highschool, there were a few whispers in the hallways, small shit about hearing screaming from the Harrington household, rumors about hand shaped bruises seen in the locker room, questions about why Steve startled so hard at loud noises.

Eddie had dismissed it, something he still hasn’t quite forgiven himself for, and most of the school did with him. Afterall, kids who had their dads beat the shit out of them weren’t popular, they weren’t captains of the swim team, they didn’t walk around in designer clothes or drive new cars. They were supposed to be damaged losers, easy to pick from the crowd. Someone like Eddie, never someone like King Steve. When in reality, even without his parents, Steve had been dealing with shit that would have sent normal people spiraling for years.

Even Wayne was on edge, obviously disturebed by the Harrington's sudden arrival. He eventually called from his girlfriend’s place, checking in on how it went, grunting unhappily when Eddie told him he still hadn’t gotten back yet, “If he’s not home in a few hours call Hopper.”

“Agreed.”

Eddie gave up on pacing and peeking, deciding to just sit his ass down on the front stoop and stare at the street. He was seconds away from giving in entirely, already trying to remember where he put his keys when he saw it. Familiar headlights were making their way up his street, parking crookedly on the curb.

Oh thank god. Eddie finally let himself breathe for the first time in hours. He should have just trusted Steve like he said-

His brain short-circuited as he watched the car door open and Steve tumble out of the driver's side, falling to the curb. Eddie was flying off of the stoop, at Steve's side in a moment as he struggled to stand.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, his baby was bleeding. His baby was bleeding and blurry eyed as he pathetically tried to stand up. Eddie didn’t hesitate, scoping him up in his arms to bring him inside.

“What the hell happened Steve?” Eddie asked, panicked as he laid him out on the couch. He looked awful, so bad that Eddie wanted to cry. His right eye was swollen and already purpling, his lip was split, sending dark, red tracks down his chin. Eddie took his jacket off for him, eyes widening to see the blood running down his arms, embedded bits of glass sparkling in the light.

"I'm sorry I’m late," Steve slurred, trying and failing to help Eddie remove the jacket, “It didn’t go so good.”

That was the understatement of the fucking century. Eddie’s mind was a cluster fuck, filled with worry, confusion, rage, despair at seeing Steve so hurt, for no fucking good reason. But he needed to focus, freaking out wasn’t helping Steve, who was still fucking bleeding. Stopping that took precedent.

Steve looked down at himself, frowning as he seemimly took in the damage for the first time, before stupidly trying to sit up, “I’ll get blood on the couch,”

That stupid statement was enough to get Eddie out of his shock.

“I don’t give a shit about the couch Steve.” Eddie hissed out, fighting not to yell. He was feeling too much all at once, but he refused to let himself be mad at Steve for being so idiotically self neglinat, not when he needed him. He rubbed a hand over his face, steeling himself to get his shit together before standing.

“Wait here sweetheart, and keep your eyes open, okay? I’ll be right back,” Eddie had to gently push Steve back down when he tried to sit up, “Just let me take care of you.”

Steve nodded, seemingly accepting the fact that yes, his literal life took precedence over cheap furniture. Eddie made it to the bathroom in record time, for once surreally grateful he had experienced the Upside Down, because it had forced him to have multiple first aid kits on hand.

He was back in less than a minute, horrified to see Steve standing on unsteady feet, spreading a blanket on the couch, like ruining the upholstery with this blood was really the priority here. He had the good grace to look guilty when he saw Eddie, sitting back down with a heavy sound, unprompted.

Calm down, calm down, calm down, Eddie thought to himself, before kneeling in front of Steve. His hands were shaking as he opened the first aid kit, but he made them work. He pressed up against the cut on his lips with cotton rounds, placing Steve’s hand against it to keep the pressure. His arms were worse, and his shaking wasn’t helping him tweeze the glass out, beer bottle by the looks of it, but he managed.

Steve was still acting woozy, barely acknowledging the sting of the alcohol as Eddie bandaged and cleaned all of his cuts, “What hurts the most baby? I need you to tell me.”

“Head,” Steve mumbled, “feels like it’s burning.”

Fuck, Eddie didn’t know what to do with that. Surface level shit he could handle, but it sounded like he had a concussion, “Steve, I think we need to take you to a hospital-”

“No.” It was automatic, so quick from Steve’s mouth that Eddie did a double take.

“Why the hell not?”

"I don’t…" he sighed, "I don't want everyone to know, okay? Not yet. I just want you."

"But-"

“Eddie, please?” He was begging, pleading in a way Eddie didn’t know how to say no too.

Eddie pinched the bridge of his nose, forcing himself to be patient, “Okay, okay. Just stay right here, and keep your eyes open, got it? I’ll be right back.”

Eddie kissed him on the forehead, ignoring his soft comments about being sweaty and gross. He went straight to the phone, calling the only number he could think of.

Wayne picked up on the third ring, obviously expecting the call. He told him everything, desperate for advice, “He doesn’t want to go to the hospital, but he looks bad, Wayne. I-I don’t know what to do,”

“Jesus christ, wait a second.”

Eddie kept peeking his head out into the hall, like Steve was going to spontaneously combust if he let him out of his site for too long. He repeated everything to Mindy, relieved that there was someone who knew what to do.

“Oh honey…Keep him awake okay? If he can’t stay conscious, call 911, don’t wait for us. And don't move him too much, we’ll be right there."

Thank god for Mindy, the saint. He had already adored the woman the first time they’d met, just from the way she made his uncle smile, but this was going to have her in his good books for the end of time.

Steve was still awake when he got back, thankfully. Eddie sat on the floor next to him, taking his hand, “Wayne and Mindy are coming over in a bit, okay? Someone has to check on you.”

Steve started to protest, but one look at Eddie’s unamused face shut him up. He looked away, “I forgot she was a nurse.”

“If she says you need to go to the hospital, you’re going.”

“Okay.”

Eddie waited for Steve to start telling him what the fuck had happened, so he knew who he had to murder. But he didn’t say anything, he just kept occasionally playing with the rings on Eddie’s hands, proving that he was still awake.

Eddie broke the silence first, he just couldn’t take not saying anything,“You’re not going back there. Ever. I'm never letting you out of my sight again.”

Steve laughed, wincing when it made his lip bleed a bit more. That was almost enough to have Eddie crying all over again.

“I, um, can’t go back there, actually.” He didn’t even look sad, just resigned, “They said it was you or them. I chose you and,” he chuckled, humorless, “And they did not take it well.”

“They know?” Eddie asked, the answer obvious, but the how wasn’t. They were hundreds of miles away, never giving a single shit about their son’s life.

He nodded, “They told me on the phone, said they knew what I was up to, that I owed them an explanation.”

“How?”

“Tommy, I guess. He called them, sat down with them or something,” he shrugged and even that small movement looked painful, “Worried about my life choices or some shit.”

Another one to the list of people Eddie was going to have to choke out.

Eddie should have never let him go over there alone, or at all. He knew something was up, he fucking knew it, but he was here sitting on his hands while Steve was getting the shit beat out of him.

Eddie wanted him to look at him, needed him to look at him. He cradled Steve’s face, carefully moving him to meet his eyes, "Stevie…baby, why did you go?”

He looked so broken down, tears starting to gather in the corner of his eyes. Steve went to bite his lip, flinching when he realized what a mistake that was, “If I didn’t go he would have shown up here. A-and I didn’t want you to get hurt. I thought I could talk them down or something, or just lie my way through it but…I couldn’t.”

Eddie resisted the urge to argue with him, to say that Steve mattered more, that he couldn’t put himself in harm’s way for his sake, that he would have gladly been the one to take the beating if it meant he would be okay. He was tracing the outline of his jaw, half for comfort and half to check for more injuries, biting down all of his indignation.

“How many times have they done this before?”

“They haven’t-”

“Sweetheart, please don’t lie to me,” Eddie wiped the tears from his good eye, patient.

Steve took a deep breath, closing his eyes, admitting the truth out loud for the first time in his life, “I’ve lost count.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

"I didn't want to scare you away,"

Eddie frowned, immediately confused, “What does that mean?”

The tears were really starting to fall now, Steve wincing at the sting of them in his cuts, “I-I know I’m already a lot okay? I’m clingy and annoying a-and I fucking scream and shit in the middle of the night and I just didn’t want to add another thing for you to have to deal with.”

Blaming himself for the terrible things other people did to him, classic fucking Steve. Eddie wanted to shake him, to yell at him that he was the most important person in his world, how could anything ever scare him away? But he held it all back.

"There is nothing that would ever make me not want you," Eddie swallowed, his own eyes starting to sting, "I'll always love you, don't you know that?"

"I-I do, really, I just...I don't know. I should have told you," Steve managed to look ashamed through his tears, and it just made Eddie's heart hurt more. He wanted to hug him, to hold him tight, and never let go. But he couldn't, not without hurting him. Steve's favorite thing in the world was getting held, and they managed to take that away. Eddie didn't know why that fact was standing out so much, but he'd never forgive them for it.

He could hear the sound of Wayne’s truck pulling into the driveway, footsteps not far behind. Eddie kissed the side of his mouth, as lightly as he could before standing to let them inside.

Mindy made quick work of tending to him, revealing more injuries under his clothes that Eddie hadn't even realized were there. His heart almost stopped at the sight of Steve shirtless, mottled yellow bruising strewn across his sides.

He and Wayne stood on the sidelines, both anxious as they waited for the news. Wayne was furious in a way that he hadn’t seen since he was a kid, back when it was Eddie being patched up from his own shit dad.

"You can stay home tonight," she finally declared to Steve, gesturing Eddie over, "You just need lots and lots of rest. Give those ribs a chance to heal a good while before you do anything strenuous. Now let's help get you to bed.”

"Thank you," Steve mumbled as Eddie scooped him up. Now that he had gotten the go-ahead to sleep, Steve was already letting his eyes fall closed, clearly exhausted. He set him down on the bed carefully, helping him change into clean clothes, ignoring the weak protests that he could do it himself.

“Please don’t go after him,” Steve mumbled when Eddie got him under the covers, "Promise me?"

Eddie hesitated, "But-"

"It's not about them," Steve rushed out, shaking his head, "Getting arrested isn't worth it. Losing you isn't worth it. Swear?”

He was right, Eddie knew Steve was right. His father wasn't just anybody, he'd press charges against almost any offense against him. And he had the lawyers to back it up. Steve was still looking at him, struggling to keep his eyes open as he waited. Eddie relented, begrudgingly giving into stupid things like logic, “I swear.”

"Thank you," Steve whispered, finally letting himself fall asleep, "I love you."

Eddie kissed his forehead, staying by his side until he was fully out of it, losing himself in his own thoughts. He wouldn’t lie to Steve, he couldn’t lie to Steve, even if he wanted to.

He wouldn't lay a hand on his father. But that didn't mean he couldn't get his shit back. Preferably before it was thrown out or damaged by his psychotic family. He left Wayne with a sleeping Steve, after a few dozen promises, that no, he was not going to go commit a violent felony.

Just a few misdemeanors.

“If they haven't already skipped town, then you come right back. You hear me?” Wayne insisted, watching him tie up his boots with narrowed eyes.

“I hear you. It'll be two hours, tops.”

He parked a block away, slinking along the sidewalk. Lucky enough for him, there were no cars in the driveway of the Harrington house, and all the lights were off. The whole neighborhood was quiet. It sure looked like they booked it, maybe too afraid of an assault charge actually sticking to stay in town.

Breaking into Steve’s room was easy, first floor with an unlocked window? Child’s play. His room looked untouched, thankfully. Whatever had happened, hadn’t happened here. He didn't waste time, immediately starting to throw the few things left in his bag. There really wasn’t much to grab, a few mixtapes, some drawings from Will, the last of his clothes. Eddie was searching under the bed when he heard it, the sound of the knob turning.

He froze, hearing a sharp intake of breath behind him. He expected whoever it was to start yelling, but instead there was only the click of the door closing shut behind them. He turned slowly, surprised to see who was standing there.

He had never seen her before, but he recognized her immediately. Steve looked just like her. The same big eyes and pouty mouth, the same gravity defying hair. They stared at each other, but she didn’t scream. She kept her eyes on him as she walked forward, primly sitting at Steve’s pristine desk.

Eddie was trying to calculate how much time it would take to book it back down the window and to his car, when she opened her mouth, “You can keep packing, don’t worry. Daniel’s gone for now.”

She was shuffling around in Steve’s old desk as she spoke, "You're Eddie, I presume.”

It was a statement, not a question, despite the phrasing, but Eddie answered anyway, “That’s me.”

She found what she was looking for, plain paper and a pen and started scribbling as she spoke, “Is he okay?”

That broke him out of his stunned little trance. Eddie stared at her, baffled and annoyed that she would even ask, “He’s alive.”

“Did he go to the hospital?”

“Why do you care?” He was pushing it. He should just pack Steve’s shit and go, but he was stuck, seething at the woman who allowed Steve to live with that monster, too angry to keep his mouth shut.

She shrugged, “If my husband is about to be arrested for disciplining our son, I’d like to know about it.”

There it was. Eddie was pretty sure this was the first time he had ever wanted to hit a woman before. He scoffed, “Un-fucking-believable. I’m not even going to answer that.”

He made his way into the closet, grabbing the few things that were still left on hangers. She was still scribbling at Steve’s desk, when he came out, flipping the page over to start on the back.

She didn’t look up at him, “He’s…” she shook her head, eyes on the paper, “It’s never been that bad before.”

Eddie ignored her, hurriedly going through Steve’s drawers, desperate to just get away from this bitch, this house, and get back to his Steve.

She was folding the paper up, letter style, before finally looking back up at Eddie. She was biting her lip, the exact same way Steve did, “Will you take care of him? If he stays?”

“Better than you.” Eddie snapped, mind jumping on the if.

She stood giving him a head to toe look, obviously displeased with what she saw. She held the letter out, “Give him this. He deserves to know he has options, and everything he’s giving up, because of you.” She said it matter of factly, like Eddie was just a temporary bump in the road, “We can give him a new start, and he’ll need a new start somewhere anyway, his father is spreading the news of your affair as we speak.”

Eddie stared down at the letter, making no moves to take it, "Your husband nearly kills him, and you think he’s going to be open to giving him a new start?" He scoffed, “Are you insane? Steve’s never going near that psycho again.”

“I could convince him,” she insisted, “When he calms down and realizes Steve needs help, he’ll be willing to give it to him.”

She shook the letter at him, her forced calm finally starting to crack, “Just give it to him. Consider it a trade for me not having you arrested for trespassing.”

Eddie snatched the letter from her hands, stuffing it into his back pocket, "Fine."

“Good. You can go back out through the window,” she said, turning to leave, “No reason for the neighbors to see more than they already have tonight."

“He won’t come back,” Eddie said, staring at her back,“He has a new family now, a real family, and I’ll never let either of you hurt him again.”

She scoffed, “We’ll just see about that,” Eddie could feel the venom behind her words, a peek into the real person behind the pretty mask. She slammed the door on the way out, like the petty child she was.

Eddie hated her, hated how she was so sure of herself, so confident with someone she didn’t even fucking know.

He hated how she thought she loved Steve.

Eddie was still fuming by the time he got home. He dumped the duffle bag into the entryway, the letter still burning a hole in his pocket. Steve wasn't going to leave him because of some scribbled words from his mom, on some level he knew that.

But even on the off chance he had suffered some serious brain damage and wanted to go back he wouldn't let him anyway. He'd kill Daniel Harrington himself before letting his Steve be around the piece of shit. He stepped from the hall into the living room, freezing when he saw Steve curled up on the couch, wide awake. He looked relieved to see him, before letting a frown take over his bruised face.

“What are you doing out of bed?” Eddie asked, shrinking a little at Steve’s glare. He ignored the question.

“What did you do?” Eddie flinched, but he couldn’t really blame him for expecting the worst. His track record wasn’t exactly…stellar in the physical protection department.

He raised his hands, placating, “Nothing, I promise! You won’t be seeing my name plastered on any headlines. I just got your stuff.”

Steve stared at him, looking for any tells. Eddie didn’t know how he did it, but the guy would just know when he was lying. Eventually he seemed satisfied with whatever he saw, relenting.

“Come here then,” he made grabby hands, adorable even when he was pissy and all bruised up.

Eddie went to him, hugging him with careful hands, “How are you feeling baby?”

“Horrible,” Steve admitted, cuddling into his side “But not worse.”

Eddie nodded, taking him in. He still looked awful, but he was way more coherent than a few hours ago, a sign in the right direction. He thought of the letter burning a hole in his pocket, wondering if it would really be so terrible to just throw it away, Steve none the wiser. What could she possibly say to make up for this?

But on the other hand…it wasn’t his choice to make.

“I uh, “ he rubbed a hand against the back of his neck, “Kinda ran into your mom, while I was there.”

Steve went rigid in his arms, staring up at him with wide-eyes.

"But nothing happened!" Eddie rushed out, flinching at the sight of Steve’s panicked face, "We just talked."

“Why would she want to talk to you?”

Eddie sighed, digging into his back pocket. Now or never he guessed, “She wanted me to give this to you.”

Steve stared at the envelope, taking it in shaky hands, “She gave it to you?”

"Wrote it out in front of me. She said, uh, that you deserved to know everything you were giving up.”

Because of me.

He left that part unsaid.

Steve frowned at the paper in his hand, shaking his head, "Help me up,"

“You’re not supposed to be moving-”

“Just to the kitchen,” Steve insisted, “I’ll lay down right after,”

Eddie gave in, helping Steve to his feet, fully intending to drag him back to bed the second he was done with whatever this was. Steve steadied himself, shooing Eddie away to weakly walk towards the kitchen.

Eddie followed him, confused as he dug around in the drawers, finding whatever he was looking for before going to the sink. Eddie watched, wide eyed as he lit a match, promptly setting the paper on fire.

"Steve-"

“It doesn't matter what it says," Steve cut in, letting it drop into the sink, "I made my choice."

He turned away from the sink, stepping back into Eddie’s arms, “All I want is you.”

Eddie held him, forcing himself to be gentle when all he wanted to do was bury himself into the other man, "You won't regret it.” Eddie choked up, teary-eyed, “I'll spend the rest of my life making sure you don't."

"It sounds like you're proposing," Steve said with a wet laugh. Eddie started kissing his face, helpless to not touch him.

"Maybe I am,”He managed to gasp out in between pecks, “But only if you'd say yes."

Fuck being young. Fuck every doubt that other people would have. There was no future that existed where Eddie wouldn't want Steve. This was it, the only person he would ever want, ever need. Steve stopped him at his mouth, careful of his cut as he kissed him, so light it was barely there.

He whispered into the small space between their lips, like a secret just for them, "I would."

737 notes · View notes

theupsidedownsrealestateagent · 1 year

Text

Winter in Hawkins has been brutal this year, snow was falling heavy, there was not a single soul who should be out in these conditions, which is why when Steve hears a knock on his front door he’s confused and also a tad panicked. A number of horrible thoughts plague his head as he rushes to open the door.

Swinging the door open the young man takes a shocked step back, “Erica??”

“Yeah it’s me dipshit, now can I come in or what? People are going to be pretty upset to find an incredibly wholesome child frozen on the Harrington front steps.”

Gathering his senses after a moment, Steve quickly ushers one of his adopted kids into the house. Taking her jacket and stowing her boots with the other shoes, he also grabs a blanket from the storage bench, and leads Erica to the living room. “You know we have to talk about this Sinclair right? What the hell were you doing out in a storm like this? Do your folks know where you are? Also why the hell are you here?” The questions just kept coming pouring out of a very protective and concerned Steve.

Erica avoids eye contact with him and stares out the floor, cheeks flushed with embarrassment. It is a look that makes Steve’s stomach twist. Baby Sinclair was always so confident and sure of herself, there was something clearly bothering her. He finally stops verbally vomiting questions and just waits for her to start talking.

“My parents got stuck in the city due to the weather, and Lucas is bunking with the other dorks who are doing a new campaign that Dustin came up with, they didn’t even invite me to play which is bullshit by the way, I’m the most strategic player they know. And and I didn’t want to be alone Steve, this was the only place I could think of going to.” She finished her story going quiet and her eyes started glistening with unshed tears.

“Hey hey it’s okay. Listen Erica first off those little shits suck for not including you and they should know better, secondly I hate being alone too, stresses me the hell out and if you hadn’t shown up tonight I definitely would be hating life right now.” Erica nods slowly, grateful she made the decision to bike here.

Steve gets a little more information about the situation and decides to make a couple of calls as Erica gets changed into warmer clothes. He’s steeping two mugs of tea while talking to Mrs. Sinclair after he got the number to their hotel room. Steve assures the mom that Erica is safe and very welcome to spend the night. Even fibs saying he picked Erica up so the kid didn’t get an earful when she got home. The next call he makes is to Karen Wheeler’s house. Once he’s on the phone with Mike he makes the kid gather the rest of the party up to the phone, and gives a very intense lecture on including the younger girl, and the responsibility of taking care of our own. Steve takes pleasure in Max yelling at Lucas in the background. He knew there was a reason she was one of his favorites.

Erica was on the couch now wearing older sweatpants from Steve’s freshman year probably, they were still big on her but a way better option than her half solid jeans she biked in. Also wearing Steve’s swim team sweatshirt. Steve’s eyes crinkled in a smile, it was always nice to be able to spend one on one time with any of the kids, he likes that he gets to see more of their genuine personalities.

Spending time with Erica was easy and funny, she actually reminded Steve a lot of Robin. The way Erica was able to completely dunk on Steve and have it mean she loves him was verrry Robin. They talked about school, her friends, and a long list of embarrassing secrets about Lucas that Steve mentally stores to use next time Erica gets ditched.

Even though it’s easy to talk to Erica, Steve can see how tired she looks. It’s the same tired he sees in all of them, the same tired he gets after a few nights of nightmare fueled insomnia. Luckily he knows how to help, if it was anyone other than Erica he’d have to think harder, not for her though.

After a long while of talking they decide to put a movie in and just relax while staying as warm as possible. Halfway through The Princess Bride Steve offers her a huge bowl of Rocky Road. “I know it’s stupidly cold out, but if I recall correctly I have a pretty huge ice cream debt that I haven’t able to make a payment on in a long time.” He hands her the bowl and a spoon.

Erica takes the offering, a sad smile creeping on her face. “Y’know ever since Starcourt I thought that was as bad as it was ever going to get for us. Not many 10 year olds get to say they saved their friends, the world, from Russian scientists. And then spring break happened Steve, Max and Eddie almost didn’t make it out, you and Hopper have irreparable brain injuries, and Lucas and I were almost got by racist townies. I’m just so tired, and yet I haven’t been able to really sleep in months. None of us have.” Tears flowing steady now as she lets a heavy weight off her chest.

Steve grabs her small shoulders, “No one should have ever gone what we have all gone through. But here we are still standing, still breathing against every damn odd. All of us nerds, freaks, fallen cool kids, we saved the fucking world. A couple of times actually. But we did it. And honestly Erica I’d go through it another hundred times if it meant I get to have this weird little family. I love you Rick, and I promise one day we won’t be plagued by shadows, monsters, and alternate dimensions.”

Erica smiled at the nickname solely reserved for Steve. If Erica could pin point the night where sleeping came a tiny bit easier it would surely be this sleepover. In her heart Erica knew that she’d brave any winter storm for her favorite adopted brother.

#stranger things #erica stranger things #steve harrington #queer steve harrington #erica and Steve have a sibling relationship #steddie #this is my first fic in years #Steve calling Erica rick is so personal to me

286 notes · View notes

sarcasticassian · 2 years

Text

Please a Legally Blonde Steddie AU could bang

Steve is sick of everyone thinking he’s an idiot just because he decided to study cosmetology and not something ‘academic’, he’s even pretty sure that his ex girlfriend Nancy Wheeler broke up with him because he was too ‘stupid’ (she didn’t, they just weren’t very compatible in the end but he doesn’t realise this yet) so after hearing that she’s going to Harvard Law he decides that this is the perfect way to show everyone that he is smart and hey if it makes Nancy change her mind about dating him then he won’t stop her

In place of the Delta Nu squad the kids Steve babysits come in to help him study, they’re all little geniuses anyway, especially Dustin (who is not his favourite, he doesn’t play favourites), and with their help he passes his LSAT and gets in, his dad who is just happy that his son is finally doing something ‘respectable’ is happy to pay for Steve once he’s in

Steve turns up and it becomes clear to everyone apart from him that he Does Not Fit In but he manages to bump into Nancy (you go into Harvard Law?) and it turns out she’s dating someone else now, her new boyfriend Johnathan is also a student at Harvard

(they’re kinda Warner and Vivian but I don’t want them being mean so they’re just maybe slightly stand offish because this guy that Nancy dated in college is suddenly at Harvard and is that not slightly weird to anyone else? Plus I want Steve and Johnathan being friends by the end cause if they’re not getting it in canon they deserve it here)

Steve’s first class is with Professor Hopper who kicks him out after embarrassing him in front of the rest of the class and some asshole called Jason suggested he be removed and this is where he meets Eddie for the first time, Eddie sees this random guy angrily muttering to himself and he also immediately can tell he doesn’t fit in, just like Eddie doesn’t, so he decides to be nice and offer him so advice, he tells him that Hopper isn’t always like that, gives him tips on how to impress in his class, tells him Professor Byers likes when you speak up and Owens is nice but he spits a little

(Eddie is smart like I just know he is and here he’s driven to study because he wants to work in family law and work with domestic violence/abuse victims because he spent his entire childhood watching his dad being a grade A asshole until he was eventually moved to live with his Uncle who he’s planning on buying a swanky new house when he wins his first big case etc but that doesn’t mean he fits in at Harvard, he got in on his smarts but also a long list of scholarships and his ripped jeans and leather jacket stand out against the designer, muted clothes a majority of the other students wear)

Steve is grateful for the advice from this random but kind (and cute) student but their meeting is cut short when Nancy and Johnathan approach him after class, Steve spirals a little and this is when he finds Robin’s coffee shop (unless you think she’d work at a hair salon or something but I thought coffee worked better for them), they fall into a grand friendship and Steve watches as Robin gazes longingly at the cute UPS girl (Chrissy or Vickie, whichever floats your boat) and *insert boobies conversation here*

With Robin’s encouragement and Eddie’s help Steve actually progresses really well in his classes and even Nancy Wheeler is impressed when he verbal smacks down Jason in *Callahan equivalent*’s class (idk who Callahan would be so take your pick) and Steve, Nancy, Johnathan and Jason (ew) are picked to intern on a big case

Idk who Brooke would be or what the case is but maybe something to do with family law because I feel like that’s the sort of thing Steve would be interested in, he’s dealt with parental neglect his whole life and he watched Max having to go through court proceedings when she was younger etc and he’s seen how passionate Eddie is about it and he’s a little inspired

If you’re following the musical instead of taking Eddie to the mall for a makeover Steve takes him to a hair salon to properly do his hair and it is so, so soft after

idk if here Steve is sexually assaulted by his professor like Elle or if it’s something else, perhaps outed against his will, it kinda depends on the year it’s set in and who Callahan is but something shitty happens to him and he decides to go home ‘because who is he kidding’ but when he goes to say goodbye to Robin she smacks him across the back of the head and is like don’t be a dingus you got this and Hopper, who happens to be getting coffee as well agrees and so Steve charges back to the courtroom

If it is a similar court case to Brooke’s in the film then I lowkey want Billy to be the daughter equivalent because imagine he gets caught because he perms his mullet lmao)

But happy ending, Steve and Eddie are in love, Robin gets her UPS girl, Nancy and Johnathan graduate with Steve and Jason doesn’t, Eddie wins his first big case and buys Wayne that house and the kids road trip to Boston to come annoy Steve

#this is so long sorry #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #stranger things #stranger things 4 #would you get into Harvard after doing cosmetology #idk but this isn't real life is it #Dustin is either the kid who helps him pass his LSAT #or the name of Steve's dog a la bruiser in the film #one or the other lol

212 notes · View notes

meepmorpperaltiago · 3 years

Text

Stranger Things future headcanons

My Stranger Things hyperfixation is Strong rn so I’ve slowly been piling up all my future headcanons into this way-too-long monstrosity ✌️

– Hopper and Joyce get married in 1987 and basically live happily ever after

– They get together pretty much as soon as they’re reunited – as the cabin has been destroyed beyond repair and Joyce wants to move back to Hawkins, Hopper and El end up staying at their new house in what’s supposed to be a temporary arrangement but becomes permanent pretty fast

– Hopper struggles a lot post Russia but with the support of Joyce and the kids he gets through it

– Murray is his best man

– El waits a year to go to college and then moves in with Mike when she’s in her second year and he’s in his third. They don’t go to the same college but they get a place close enough that they can both commute to their respective campuses

– They also get a cat named Leia and both get jobs to earn a bit of extra money considering they’re still students – El works at a local library and Mike works in a coffee shop

– Max and El are roommates in their first year of college (Max took a gap year) and Max moves into the apartment opposite Mike and El’s

– Lucas and Max are basically the Ross and Rachel to Mike and El’s Chandler and Monica, they have constant on again off again drama for years until they finally get together and stay together when they’re a little older

– Will goes to art college in New York, while Dustin also goes further afield to study communications, but they keep in touch with the others as much as they can

– Having already had their first concert experiences back in ‘87 with Madonna’s Who’s That Girl Tour, El and Max go to the Blonde Ambition tour together and have the best time

– The gang also all go and see Nirvana together because the image of them all huddled together jumping up and down to Smells Like Teen Spirit is too precious

– Mike proposes to El on a quiet Sunday morning in their apartment – he makes her Eggos on a special plate that says “marry me?” on it

– They find out there’s a clearing in Mirkwood that’s become popular for weddings and they have their ceremony there, on the 7th November 1994, 11 years after they first met. Literally everyone sobs.

– Once she graduates El continues working at the library while she works to get a master’s degree to become a therapist. In the year following whatever’s going to happen in season 4, with the help of Doctor Owens she started going to therapy and it helped her so much that she eventually realised she wanted to help people that way – and with a heck of a lot of hard work, she succeeds!

– Mike studies literature and eventually becomes a high school English teacher, with an ambition to become a writer someday. He stays that way for 6 years, until him and El start having kids and he decides to become a stay at home dad, especially because El earns more than he does so financially it makes more sense for him to take time out of work, plus he really wants to be a more active dad than his own father. While he’s at home with the kids, he writes his first full fantasy novel, which eventually becomes a massive success and allows him to fully launch his writing career in the way that he always wanted.

– Mike and El have 3 kids – Lily (b. 1998), Ryan (b. 2000) and Emma (b. 2004). All 3 kids inherit El’s powers and they work incredibly hard to make sure that a. The kids are raised to keep it concealed and that b. They never experience the pain and fear that El suffered.

– Nancy and Jonathan become a highly success journalist – photojournalist team, eventually getting married and having 2 kids after a few years of travelling the world, Jason (b. 1997) and Clare (b. 2001)

– Steve and Robin remain lifelong friends – they end up working together when they’re older, because he eventually becomes a gym teacher and she becomes a language teacher

– Because I’m basically projecting Ross and Rachel onto them, while they’re on again and off again Max and Lucas end up with an unintended pregnancy, which Max discovers at Mike and El’s wedding – their son Ethan is born in 1995 and they’re great co parents even before they properly get back together

– While Lucas becomes an aerospace engineer, Max becomes a skateboarding instructor and eventually starts her own skate school

– They finally get together permanently in 1999 and never look back, eventually getting married in 2002 and having a second child, Marcus, a year later

– Will comes out to everyone at the end of his first year – he becomes a comic book illustrator and ends up with a comic book writer named Chris Cole. They get a civil union in 2000 and then get married as soon as they can and they adopt twin babies named Matt and Emily in 2005

– Dustin does something techy with computers for a while but him and his wife Demi get a farm out of nowhere (I just love the idea of Dustin’s life taking a completely random direction and everyone being shocked ok) – they say that their animals are like their children

– In 2007 at a party reunion Lily, Marcus, Ryan and Emma put on a truly epic performance of the first two high school musical soundtracks, with Ethan, Matt, Emily and all the adults as their audience

– The party eventually get a group chat that they post in constantly

– Once a year they also all get back together in person specifically to play a big game of D & D (they do it over zoom in 2020 and are planning to do the same this year)

– Leia passes away in 2006 and a year later the Wheelers get a labradoodle named Chewie

– Max and El get a podcast together. I don’t know what the heck they talk about, but they have a podcast. Their children are highly embarrassed by this but they don’t care at all.

– When El first moved out to go to college just over 30 years ago, she promised to phone Hopper every Sunday – they call each other every Sunday afternoon to this day and when lockdown started it became a FaceTime with the whole family.

#stranger things #mileven #jopper #the party #eleven #hopper #Joyce #mike wheeler

33 notes · View notes

lightsupinthenorth · 4 years

Text

Harringrove teachers AU part 3

Part 1 - Part 2

Thank you to everyone who read, liked and/or reblogged the previous parts. Also, the people who said something nice in the tags or in reactions own my heart. Just thought you should know ;) <3

Tag list: @twoprettyboys, @inkedplume, @marianaosborne, @liglitterbug, @hmg621 @spreckle @goldenweatherharringrove @yikesharringrove @yogurtfordinner @wingedbears @charlotte-frey @hargrovesharrington

If anyone wants to be added to or taken off the tag list for the future posts of this AU, let me know ;)

I hope the tags are working because I recently had some trouble with them (ah, Tumblr is a mess).

I was planning on keeping the chapters short but every part has been longer than the last so far ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ (then again, it’s still pretty short so I guess it’s fine ^^).

I’ll stop rambling now.

Billy didn’t know how he had ended up in this situation, this situation being Steve and he making out in the otherwise empty teachers’ lounge, but he certainly wasn’t complaining. He wanted to keep Steve’s soft lips on his forever. Sadly, he didn’t get his way: there was a loud bang, and suddenly Steve’s lips were gone. Steve was gone too, as well as the teachers’ lounge. Billy woke up at home, in his bed, hard as a rock in the basket-ball shorts he was wearing as pajamas.

Great, he got an erection just from dreaming he and Steve were kissing. What was he? A teenager? That was pathetic.

Billy was considering rubbing one out, despite the embarrassment, but there was another loud bang that made him remember why he had woken up in the first place.

What the fuck was happening this early on a Saturday?

Billy instantly worried Max had fallen or, worse, that someone had broken into the flat and would hurt her (highly improbable in such a small town, but Billy wasn’t alert enough to be logical). The concern killed his arousal in two seconds tops. He shot up from bed and exited his bedroom in a hurry.

He found Max in their open kitchen, mixing what appeared to be pancakes ingredients.

“What was that noise?” He asked, in lieu of a greeting.

“I dropped the pan. Sorry.”

“There were two noises.”

“I dropped the mixing bowl too. Let me live! It’s your fault, you stored both these things on the highest shelf” Max complained.

“Hey, no need for a defense, I’m not accusing you. I was just worried, shitbird.”

“Oh… well, I’m okay.”

“And you’re making pancakes, so I’m certainly not going to complain.” Billy added.

“Who told you I was making some for you?”

Billy pouted, even though he knew Max was bluffing. He could see the amount of batter in the mixing bowl. She had quite an appetite, but there was no way she’d be able to eat all of that on her own.

“So mean, so early in the morning.”

“What can I say, I love messing with you.”

Paradoxically, Billy was happy that she did. When they had first met, he’d been a perpetually angry teenager, and teeny tiny Max had done everything she could to stay out of his way. Once Susan had announced she was ill, though, Billy had tried his hardest to be the brother Max deserved. After Susan’s death, Billy had looked after Max and kept her safe from his father until he had turned legal. He had then fought to get Max away from Neil and had obtained full custody of her.

It had been hard to balance getting his degree, working part-time jobs, and taking care of Max. Even more so with Neil trying to steer trouble every now and again. But they had made it out alright, in the hand, and Billy didn’t regret a second of it.

“Sit your ass down.” Max said as she turned the stove on.

“Oh no, no way. You ‘sit your ass down’. I’ll take it from here.”

Max was good at finding the best recipes and at mixing ingredients, but the cooking process was another thing entirely: she had nearly burned the kitchen down almost every time she had tried using the oven or the stove. Her cooking privileges had been revoked after the fifth time.

“Ugh, fine.”

Billy had two plates full on pancakes in no time. He put one in front of Max and went to sit down with his own on the other side of the table. The second his ass touched his chair, Max asked:

“So, you have plans with Steve and Robin this afternoon?”

Billy frowned.

“First of all, it’s Mrs. Buckley and Mr. Harrington for you”, he started, just to get on her nerves (he didn’t give a fuck how she called her teachers), “and second, how do you know that?”

Max arched an eyebrow.

“You literally talked about it with Steve right in front of me yesterday”, she said, ignoring Billy’s reprimand (no surprise, there).

“Oh… right… I did.”

Truthfully, Billy had stopped paying attention to Max and El the second he had laid eyes on Steve and the dumb spot of blue paint that had been resting on his cheek as if it had any right to.

“So, what are you guys going to do?”

“Not that it’s any of your business, but we’re going to grade papers.”

“Well, that’s exciting.”

Her sarcasm was off the charts.

“Tell me about it”, Billy mumbled, around a mouthful of pancake.

“Ew, gross.”

Billy stuffed even more pancake into his mouth, in defiance, before he spoke again:

“So, Art club, uh? What’s up with that?”

They hadn’t had an opportunity to talk about it the day before, because Friday night was movie night, and they had eaten dinner in front of the tv. Plus, Billy would have been too distracted to hold a conversation (Steve hadn’t left his mind).

“Steve said I should come. He noticed I haven’t been speaking to a lot of people, and he said it might help to do an activity in a smaller group…” Max wasn’t looking at Billy as she explained.

“Anyway, I think he was right. He’s the best!” She beamed as she said it, finally looking up from her slowly but surely diminishing pile of pancakes.

“That’s good. I’m glad.”

Billy was glad, really. He was also a bit frustrated that Steve had managed to talk to Max about making friends, when Billy hadn’t known how to bring it up without offending her, but he wasn’t petty enough to show he had a problem with it. Even if Max calling Steve “the best” was treason of the highest order, Billy just wanted her to be happy. If Steve’s intervention helped more than Billy himself could, then so be it.

They finished breakfast, got ready for the day and then went grocery shopping. As they got back to the flat, Max went to her room to chill, and Billy read for a while before he started preparing lunch. Keeping busy distracted him from thinking about seeing Steve in the afternoon. Well, he didn’t think about it too much, at least.

When Billy made his way into the coffee shop, Steve and Robin were already seated, talking animatedly… in another language.

“Hi. Was that Italian?”

They must not have noticed him approaching, because as soon as he greeted them, they stopped talking, and Steve looked up at him like a deer caught in the headlights.

“Hey Billy”, Robin said, “as a matter of fact, it was.”

“Don’t you teach French and Spanish?”

Billy was perplexed.

“I do. Doesn’t mean I don’t speak Italian.”

“It figures”, Billy shrugged.

He wanted to ask Steve where he had learnt Italian, because it intrigued him. However, he chose not to. He didn’t want to talk to him unless it was necessary. It’d be better for everyone if they had the bare minimum of interactions together, surely.

“Are these new piercings?” Robin asked, gesturing toward his ears.

“Uh, no. I’ve had them for a long time. I just don’t wear them at school.”

“Well, you should. They look really cool, and I’m sure no one would have anything to say about it.”

Billy stared at Steve pointedly, but Steve looked away as soon as he caught his gaze.

“I’ll think about it.” Billy finally said.

Steve and Robin already had their orders, so Billy took his wallet from his bag and went to the counter. He glanced at the display case and eyed the cherry pie with envy, but decided against it. After this morning’s pancakes, it wouldn’t be reasonable. Plus, he hadn’t hit the gym in a few days. He had to start indulging less if he wanted to stay in shape. He went for a simple black coffee. As the burly man behind the counter, whom Billy guessed to be Benny, asked him if he wanted anything else, Billy nearly surrendered, but he powered through. He handed Benny a ten-dollar bill and put the change he was given in one of his pockets.

When Billy went back to their table with his cup of coffee, Steve was blowing on his cup of steaming hot tea. Billy’s eyes caught on the ‘o’ shape of Steve’s lips, which reminded him of his dream. He averted his eyes, praying to God he wasn’t blushing, now that he couldn’t hide it behind his tan anymore (screw Hawkins, Indiana).

As Billy sat down, he noticed Steve had a piece of the pie he’d been eyeing. Not fair. He nearly started pouting but caught himself. After all, his pie-less state was his own fault. Why did he have to be reasonable?

Billy took his pen and the essays he had to grade out of his backpack to give himself something to focus on. But then Steve started eating. And he moaned. Quite obscenely.

“Mh, this is so good. Benny is a magician. You guys want a bite?”

Billy really wanted to say yes, not only because he wanted pie, but because Steve was the one offering. It would have been weird, though? Right?

“No thanks” he ended up saying. What a hard thing to say.

Robin had no such qualms. She needn’t have, since she and Steve were actually friends. Not only did she get to experience Steve warmth and kindness, she also got a bite of his pie. Did she even know how lucky she was?

Billy got into his grading. And he was already past the no-pouting stage of the afternoon. It sucked to be him, sometimes.

“You should probably wait for Steve to finish eating… and drinking too, to be honest, before you put your students’ paper on the table. That man is a disaster.”

Billy had to admit Robin was right. He ate lunch with Steve on a regular basis, and had therefore seen him spill a bunch of things on himself. Thankfully, nothing he had ever spilled had reached Billy, so they were probably safe.

“Oh come on! We’re on opposite ends of the table.” Steve objected.

“I know, but I’m sure you’d find a way.”

Steve scoffed but didn’t try to argue his case any further. He looked adorably ruffled when Robin laughed at his expanse.

They didn’t say anything more for a while, as they were finally doing what they had come here to do. At some point, though, Robin brought up a point one of her students had made about the French translation of “Newspeak” in George Orwell’s 1984, which led her and Billy to launch a discussion about the novel.

Steve offered no input whatsoever, but he had stopped grading and had been staring at them for five minutes straight.

It was making Billy’s skin itch.

At some point, he couldn’t take it anymore and asked:

“What’s your opinion Steve?”

“Uh… I… I don’t really have one.” He stammered, caught off guard.

“How come?”

“I, uh, I haven’t actually read the book.”

“Oh. Well, you should. It’s an amazing book.”

Steve fidgeted with his red pen, repeatedly taking the cap off and then putting it back on.

“Uh… I don’t know about that. It’s not really my thing.”

“How can you know it’s not your thing if you haven’t read it?” Billy asked, a tad defensively.

“I didn’t mean the book… I meant, reading.”

Steve bit his lower lip.

“Why not? Is that beneath a math buff such as yourself, or something?” Billy’s tone had become hostile.

And, by pulling accusations out of his ass like that, he had gone from defensive to straight up aggressive.

“No. ‘course not… It’s just… reading is hard for me… I’m, uh… I’m dyslexic, so…” Steve trailed off, looking down at the pen he was seemingly holding in a vice grip.

Billy was speechless with shame and regret, as Steve offered a wobbly smile and said: “I’m gonna… go get some more tea”, before leaving the table.

Billy stared at his retreating form before he turned to Robin and found her glaring at him. If he could have felt worse than he already did, he would have.

“So… should I go apologize right now or should I leave him alone and apologize later?”

Teenage Billy would have probably not apologized at all, but present-time Billy knew better. He felt like the biggest jerk.

“I’d say, go for it.”

Billy followed Robin’s advice and, with knots in his stomach, he went to Steve, who was waiting for his tea behind the counter.

“Steve, man… I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay…” Steve said, but his eyes didn’t leave his own shoes.

That wouldn’t do. Billy had made Steve feel shitty, and he would make it better if it were the last thing he did.

“No, it’s not. I shouldn’t have pushed.”

Billy had let his frustration with Steve get the better of him, and that was unacceptable. Steve was not particularly nice to him, so what? It wasn’t a reason to be outright mean to the guy.

“Really, it’s no big deal… It’s not like it’s a secret… my dyslexia, I mean.”

“Yeah, but you obviously didn’t want to share this piece of info with me, and I should have dropped it.”

“I just… I was afraid you’d find me stupid… But you probably thought I was stupid already, anyway… what with me never having anything interesting to say when Robin and you talk about literature.”

“Hey, I don’t…”

Benny placed Steve’s cup of tea on the counter, cutting Billy mid-sentence.

“It’s on me”, Billy said, fishing his five-dollar bill of change out of his jean’s back pocket and handing it to Benny.

“You didn’t have to.”

Was Steve blushing or was it a trick of the light?

“I want to make it up to you.”

“There’s nothing to make up for, but thanks.”

Steve grabbed his cup of tea and was going to go back to their table, but Billy held him back.

“Wait… I want you to know I don’t find you stupid, okay? I know I’m kind of a jackass, but not enough of one to actually think dyslexic people are stupid.”

“Good to know”, Steve replied.

“So, are we good?”

“I told you, we are.” Steve assured, smiling brighter than he had ever smiled at Billy before.

The knots in Billy’s stomach loosened, and his heart filled with warmth. So that was how it felt, when Steve’s sunshine fell upon you? Billy couldn’t wait to experience that feeling again.

“We should get back to Robin.”

“We should” Billy echoed, before following Steve, awestruck.

#Harringrove #Harringrove teachers AU #Billy Hargrove #Steve Harrington #Max Mayfield #Robin Buckley #Stranger Things

135 notes · View notes

thephantomofthe-internet · 4 years

Text

Read into Me Chapter 11: Love Story

Steve Harrington x Reader

CATCH UP ON THE SERIES HERE

Words: 4,771

Warnings: fire, injury-all end of season three things!

Author’s Note: Happy belated Strangers Things 3 Day! I wanted to get this up yesterday, but I didn’t have it in me to work. This is the end of the series, I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it! It was a fun little ride!

Series Tag: @divinity-deos @thecaptainsgingersnap @wolfish-willow @scoopsohboi @herre-gud-nej @clockworkballerina @maddie1504 @i-am-trash-so-much-its-scary @jisungiesluv @wildcvltre @stanleyyelnatsiii @n3wtscaseofniffler5 @peterparxour @linkispink1995 @a-big-ball-of-idk @used-avocado @mochminnie @sledgy14 @the-creative-lie @yall-wildin-like-siriusly @ggclarissa @voidnarnia @anonymousonion33 @awkwardnesshabitat @darkcrystal-wolf @hannahrisacher

Paris was a lonely city. You’d arrived alone, having not seen Steve since prom and still desperate to see him one more time. You’d selfishly kept his sweatshirt, wanting a piece of him to take with you to a different country. Your mother hadn’t picked you up from the airport, having sent a car instead. She didn’t seem much interested in speaking to you after months apart; she was much more interested in redecorating her new condo and talking about her fiancé. You met him, a French fop named Jean-Pierre at least fifteen years her junior. He was nice enough, although a bit fruity for your liking. His interests were more on the modeling jobs your mother was getting him. She had no time for you, which was fine since your lessons at the salon began immediately.

You and thirty-five other young hopefuls spend your days locked in a studio with abundant resources and endless models and objects to sketch. And you hated it. You hated the long, rambling lectures from the artists who came to the salon to preach the values of the school and the importance of French art. They alternated between speaking in French and English without explaining themselves as they switched tongues. Your French language skills were nonexistent, so the lectures were exhausting and endless. The only time they ever seemed to help was when they brought you all to the Louvre to examining the long dead French men who’d made the museum possible. There, you could at least sketch out the greats and enjoy the beauty of the art. Inside the studio, you felt as though your head was going to explode. The lectures spoke too loudly and loomed over you without warning or word, you weren’t allowed your headset or Walkman in the studio to combat them, and the smell of various paints and clays made your stomach churn. The girl who’d taken up the easel next to you, a little German named Lisle, had taken to making clay pots and sculptures and the sound of her pottery wheel mixed with her incessant humming made you want to commit manslaughter. It didn’t help that the smell of the brown clay invaded your sinuses and made you sneeze violently. You dreaded the salon. But you dreaded being at home more.

Your mother had hired you a French tutor, utterly horrified by the fact that you hadn’t been practising. You tried to tell her that, despite her assumptions, Hawkins High had stopped offering a French elective two years before you started there.

“You cannot live in Paris without speaking French! It won’t do!” she moaned. Jean-Pierre was already on the phone, speaking fast into the receiver. You didn’t see what the big deal was. Everywhere you went, people spoke enough English to communicate with you fine. It didn’t occur to you till after dinner that if you were to study in the country, you’d need the language to understand your lessons.

So you got a French teacher, a short tempered older man who insisted on being called Monsieur Bérnard. His greying whiskers moved sharply as he spoke and he often spit on you as he taught proper pronunciation and conjugation. He ranted and raved all afternoon, disgusted by your apparent lack of an ear for languages and your doodling on the edges of notebook paper instead of working. You’d go from sensory overload in the salon to being bullied by a Freud-looking asshole each day with no room for a break or a breath.

You lived for weekends. Rest was very well thought of in the city so the hell spawn tutor didn’t work and the salon locked its doors. You were allowed to wander the city at your leisure, your mother glad to have you out of the apartment. You’d spend most of your days sat at a café near the Eifel Tower, a prime spot to tourists. Every day, you’d bring your sketchpad and try to draw out the profiles of those you passed you by. You spent two weekends working on a sketch of people sunbathing on the lawn in front of the tower. But it seemed you left all your talent in Hawkins. You’d spent so long drawing familiar faces back home, now that you were away from your nest, you found yourself without the skill to capture the faces around you. It occurred to you that you knew the faces of Hawkins far too well. They were engrained in your mind, your hand working like a stamp to put them on the page. France was full of strangers. You didn’t know how to understand them like you understood Hawkins. France wasn’t home. You couldn’t work out in a world of strangers.

You couldn’t work in the salon either. It was too much. Everyone was constantly showboating and trying out-do one another. You couldn’t work with people spying over your shoulder. You felt judged and insecure about what you could do. You didn’t want to be watched as you tried to make art. It didn’t help that you had no idea what to make. The closest thing you’d gotten done is that sketch of the Eifel Tower and that wasn’t something you couldn’t buy on the streets around the monument. You’d tried all the things that you couldn’t in your bedroom-paint splatter art, pottery, carving, paint pulling, mosaics. You never finished anything. The drive to push through wasn’t there.

When the loneliness and fear became too much to bear, you held Steve’s sweatshirt and cried. It still smelt like him; Irish Springs soap and Fabregè Organics shampoo and hairspray and a bit like sweat. It was nice though. You missed him. You tried to write him letters, but you knew that they wouldn’t get home before you did. You’d made up your mind that whatever the answer was, you were going home. Whether that meant deferring a semester or missing the first week of school you would go back to Hawkins. Still, you’d written over a dozen letters, all crumpled in your waste bin.

You waited until the last minute to finish something for submission. You’d tried to sketch your mother, to find who you knew in the fancy woman in front of you. With her bleached blowout and designer clothes, thirty pounds lighter and yellow gold jewellery glinting in the midday sun. She looked like the epitome of elegance, straight out of a magazine. The woman you remembered had greying roots and love handles, her only jewellery the wedding rings your father had given her. Europe had changed her into someone who you didn’t know and who didn’t seem to want to introduce herself to you. Nothing you drew seemed to capture the middle between who she was and who she is now. You realized in her profile that you weren’t a part of her life anymore, that she didn’t want you there. You were as strange to her as she was to you. You passed each other like ghosts in the hall, almost recognizable but hauntingly foreign.

The day before your final piece for submission was due; you got a letter from Steve. It only had one sentence.

“I should have asked you to stay.”

It was all you needed to hear to be inspired. You made your final project a tribute to him, mixing memories with unfinished letters building into his face. You used plain black ink to sketch his profile on the surface of the mess, building him into your loneliness. You only had your memory to recreate his face and your own letters to fill the canvas. Still, it was the only thing you’d done the whole time you were in the country that you were actually proud of. You didn’t finish it until the sun rose and you handed it off to be judged without a second thought, bleary eyed and exhausted.

You were on a plane home by the wee hours of July 4th.

Hawkins was a depressing place. After graduation, Steve found himself listless and at the hands of his father. He was a failure, a disgrace of a son. He was unready to start into the family business. His grades were pathetic. He had to get a job. Of course, with no job experience and late to the game, no decent place wanted him. The new mall only offered him one place of employment, Scoops Ahoy. And the uniform was embarrassing. Stupid sailor shirts and matching shorts, fucking knee socks and a corny paper hat. He looked like a certified geek. And his co-worker was a freak. Robin fucking Buckley did nothing but bug him all shift. It didn’t help that he had no friends without you, even Dustin had left for some nerdy science camp after the school year ended.

He was alone and lonely.

He tried to write you a half dozen times. But nothing seemed to make sense, nothing was worth telling you. What was he supposed to tell you? That he had become an even bigger loser overnight? He felt so utterly pathetic. He just wanted things to go back to the way things were. But what did that even looked like anymore? It wasn’t a life with Nancy, she’d dumped his ass, and it wasn’t a life with you, you’d left him for a different continent. He didn’t have a clue where he was going anymore. So he did what any lonely, practically friendless teenager did-he worked his ass off. Eight hours every day in the mall with smart ass Robin Buckley, waiting for the ground to suck him up. And sure, he tried to hit on the girls his age that came around. It was a good distraction from his broken heart. He’d made up his mind that he was ready to move on and try to date again. That he needed a girlfriend. That he needed to be cool again.

And then, Dustin came back and Hawkins started acting up again. He thought it was over. Those damn dogs were gone, the thing was closed, the kid was safe and acting like a kid. Everything had gone back to as close to normal as he’d seen it in awhile. But Dustin just had to find a secret code and Buckley just had to decode it and Lucas’s bitchy little sister just had to be small enough to fit into the vents and find a secret Russian elevator. And they just had to get stuck in it.

He couldn’t keep that damn kid from seeking out trouble. And yeah, it was kind of fun in a scared shitless kind of way, but it wasn’t worth getting drugged and beaten up and nearly dying for. And it certainly wasn’t worth getting tricked into thinking that he had feelings for fucking Robin. He could murder that kid for getting it in his head that he liked that girl. Robin was cool; he wouldn’t pretend that she wasn’t a decent friend to have at the end of the world. But he didn’t need the embarrassment of trying to ask out a lesbian. At least the reason for her rejecting him wasn’t that he was unattractive or lame, just that she didn’t dig dudes. He was cool with that. And at least he got to punch out a communist. If he could tell his father that without going to prison or being murdered by a Russian goon, he’d be proud. Fuck that, he was proud. He won a fight! He beat up a Russian spy! More than one, he beat some up while drugged out; at least he thought he did. He couldn’t remember much, other than watching Back to the Future with Robin. That movie was too confusing. And then he stole a car, he saved Nancy’s life, he set up that weird tower thing for Dustin-there was too much going on to even recognize how crazy he sounded. How crazy all of this sounded.

And then, the mall was on fire.

Your flight landed on the fourth of July at about ten fifteen in the evening. It took about forty-five minutes to get from the Indianapolis International Airport back to Hawkins. You were buzzing. Seven words had given you all the hope you needed to push you back to the states. Every fibre of your being was alive with energy, with excitement. You couldn’t wait for your grandfather to park the car, you jumped out as soon as you were settled in the driveway.

“Don’t you want to go upstairs and unpack?” your grandmother called after you as you booked it down the driveway.

You turned back “No, I’ll be back later!” you called. Steve’s car wasn’t in the driveway but you figured if anyone was home they’d know where he was. You bounded up the stairs, ringing the doorbell twice.

Mrs. Harrington came to the door in her bathrobe. “Oh, hello there…” she trailed off, obviously unable to remember your name.

“Y/N, hi it’s nice to see you, do you know where Steve is?” you asked, bouncing from your heels to your toes.

Mrs. Harrington narrowed her eyes “He’s at his job I assume. At the mall.” She said slowly.

“What mall?” you demanded. Mrs. Harrington’s eyes blew wide open and you realized that you were probably coming off like an insane person. “Sorry, I’ve been out of the country for about a month.”

“It’s where the Hawkins Laboratories were, off East Wood Road.” She pointed out the door towards the roads. You knew instantly that the fastest way to get there was through the woods. You ran through the backyards of your neighbours and into the woods. You didn’t like the Hawkins forests. They were dark and dim and poorly maintained. The county hadn’t been out to cut down potentially problematic trees on the few hiking paths in the woods. Burs caught your socks and twigs scratched your legs as you hopped logs to try to get there faster. They’d carved a road through the woods, you’d found it halfway to the mall, deserted and blocked off. You could see the bright orange flames from a mile away.

Your heart stopped dead in your chest. Steve was in there. You could cry.

Instead, you hopped the blockade, running down the road despite the calls of passing fire trucks and police. You didn’t care if they tried to arrest you, although you doubted that they could. It would be a waste of time to bother with you during an emergency.

The parking lot was filled with emergency vehicles. Massive streams of water were attacking the building. Luckily, it seemed the mall was closed, judging by the few people who were milling around not in uniforms. You sprinted into the crowd, looking around frantically.

Steve had been ushered into the back of an ambulance and draped in a bright orange emergency blanket. It wasn’t that cold but he felt as though he was freezing. The EMTs had checked his vitals and disinfected the wounds on his face and knees. As for the remaining drugs in his system, he chose not to mention them. He knew that the high would wear off eventually. Robin was sat next to him, equally bandaged up and silent, save an uncontrollable shiver. Wordlessly, Steve took the blanket off his shoulders and placed it over hers. He wasn’t that cold. Moreover, he just felt numb. He’d had this happen so many times; his face beat in, an otherworldly thing trying to destroy his life and hurt his family, a major building destroyed-it all felt familiar. It made him sick to his stomach to know that it was familiar. If he had anything left in his stomach he would’ve thrown up.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw something running towards him. At first, he tensed. He didn’t know what it was and it could probably kill him. His heart stopped and then raced wildly. He held out an arm to protect Robin and squeezed his eyes shut.

“Steve!” you cried. He was in an ambulance. He was hurt. He was alive. You felt as if you could cry. In the span of fifteen minutes he’d gone from working to escaping a fiery building to missing in a fire to simply hurt. And hurt was just fine, you could handle hurt.

“Oh my god Steve, are you okay? Are you alright? I love you so much…”You grabbed his face, examining the bruises. You pulled him tightly to your chest, trying not to cry or freak out. You knew it wouldn’t help.

“I love you too…” he breathed into your ear, pulling you close to him. He recognized you by the smell of your hair, the feeling of your arms around him. He could cry. He didn’t believe you were real. But when you pulled away and his hand came to your face. You were real. And you were here. And he was safe. He was safe and alive. Feelings of relief rushed through his body. He wanted to cry, but the shock was too overwhelming for a tear to even drop.

“What’re you doing here?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper and hoarser than he’d ever felt it. “I thought you were still in Paris.”

“I came home early,” you chuckled, pressing a kiss to his jaw bone. “I didn’t get in.” That was the nicer version, the judges laughed at your final piece, they called it pedestrian. You should’ve been more upset, your mother was furious, but you couldn’t have cared less. You were free to go home. You could’ve thanked them for rejecting you.

Steve pulled away, looking you squarely in the eye. He wouldn’t have you give up on school to hang out with him in bum fuck Indiana. But you were telling the truth, it was written plainly all over your face. “Those bastards…” Steve murmured. You laughed, your eyes watery and throat thick. You were overwhelmed. You expected to come home and just see him in his element. You expected him to not necessarily want to see you. You didn’t expect a fire or Steve being injured or Steve to even be there at all. You pulled Steve back into your arms, you didn’t want to let go.

“I missed you so much…” you whispered. Steve’s arms came around your hips, pulling you in between his legs. He needed you here, to keep you in place for awhile.

“I missed you too…” he said, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head. “Did you get my letter?”

You looked up “Yeah I did…” you said “I wish I had written you, I tried so many times but I couldn’t find the words and-” Steve kissed you hard, stealing the words from his throat. He didn’t care if you didn’t write him back; this was the best thing he could’ve gotten from you. A letter wouldn’t do it justice.

You were lit up by his kiss. This is what you needed. No words could do the feelings he expressed in his kiss justice. You felt alive. You felt at home. Steve tried to pull away, but you pulled him back by his shirt, kissing him as if your life depended on it. Maybe it did. You couldn’t be sure anymore.

A loud clearing of one’s throat interrupted you and you pulled away to see Robin waving awkwardly. “Oh hey Buckley…” you muttered awkwardly. “How’s Samantha?”

“No clue, she never called me back.” The younger girl shrugged nonchalantly, hopping down from the ambulance deck. “I’ll catch ya later, Harrington.”

You turned your attention back to Steve, looking down at the material still in your fists. He looked ridiculous. “What the fuck are you wearing?” you asked with a laugh. Steve’s hands settled on your lower back, holding you in between his knees as if you’d run off if he didn’t.

“Oh this? This has been my whole summer.” He groaned “I’ve been captaining a boat on an ocean of flavours.” You couldn’t help but cackle, you had no idea what he was talking about but he seemed so serious.

“And by that you mean?” you lifted the fake red neckerchief attached to his shirt, running the material between your thumb and forefinger.

“Ice cream store in the mall,” he pointed to the embroidered Scoops Ahoy logo on his breast.

“You’re kidding…” you shook your head as if to shake the idea out of your mind. Steve’s fingers trailed the raggedy edge of your sweatshirt. Well, his sweatshirt, his last name and basketball jersey number were embossed on the back; he could feel the textured design on your lower back.

“I like my sweater,” he chuckled, reaching up to adjust the length of the drawstrings on the hood. You looked away, a bit embarrassed.

“I didn’t mean to keep it I just…missed you,” You replied “You can have it back.”

“Nah, it suits you,” he smirked “Besides, I want my girl in my stuff, it’s cute.”

“Your girl?” you grinned giddily, elbowing him in the ribs. “Since when am I your girl?” You liked the idea of being Steve’s girl. It had a nice ring to it.

Steve smirked, squeezing your hips in his hands. “Oh come on baby, you’ve been my girl for awhile…”

“Oh really? Well, I wouldn’t know since you’ve never asked me…”

You heard a loud yell and turned to see a set of paramedics carrying a stretcher towards you and Steve. They were sprinting and bringing a badly burnt and unconscious Billy Hargrove towards the ambulance you sat on. You quickly moved out of the way. Steve grabbed your hand, allowing you to tug him from the ambulance’s deck.

You only got a brief look at the teenager, but it made your stomach churn violently. You felt ill. You felt Steve squeeze your hand. You turned to look at him and saw how hollow his eyes were. You wrapped your arm around his middle. “I’m so glad you’re okay,” you said, trying to stifle a yawn. You were exhausted from your flight and your run here and the trauma that had smacked you across the face.

Steve noticed anyway “Did you just get here?” he asked, lifting your chin.

“My flight landed at ten, I came to see you as soon as I could.”

“You should’ve gone home to rest, I wouldn’t have been mad at you.” You looked absolutely exhausted. He couldn’t imagine what he looked like.

“I missed you too much to not see you. And what if you had gotten hurt, if you hadn’t made it out then I would’ve never forgiven myself…”

Steve wrapped his arms tightly around you, shielding you from the scene, as more mangled people were brought out. The beast must’ve fallen apart once the brain was destroyed. It looked as though a bomb had gone off. Steve squeezed his eyes shut. He wanted to leave, but he knew that the FBI would be called and he’d have to talk to them again. He wanted you to go home, but that didn’t seem like an option now. Selfishly, he liked having you there, it was comforting to have you in his arms, squeezing him under his ribs and keeping him calm.

“I’m not gonna get hurt, I’m okay…we’re okay…” You nodded roughly against his chest. You felt as if you were burning up and freezing at the same time. You saw blinks of red flashing lights and sirens as one of the ambulances sped past. You were so thankful that he wasn’t on that ambulance.

“Yeah, I know, I’m not gonna let you out of my sight ever again.” Steve lifted up your chin, raising an eyebrow at you. “What? Last time I did you nearly died and for what? A shit job in the mall?”

“Well, not just for a job, I was helping Robin and a couple kids who were with us,” That wasn’t the whole story. Steve knew he’d have to tell you eventually about everything, but for now he was more than comfortable ignoring the looming problem beneath their feet.

“What a hero…” you giggled, pressing a kiss to his cheek. Something had been bothering Steve for awhile now and he determined now was the best time to tackle the subject. He turned away from you, folding his hands in his lap.

“Did you mean it when you said that you loved me?” he asked quietly. Truthfully, he wasn’t certain that you meant it. Or if he had even heard you correctly. After Nancy, he wasn’t sure if anyone actually loved him back. He’d given so much of his heart away only to have it tossed to the floor and tread upon like it was nothing more than a cigarette butt. He wasn’t sure if he could trust that you meant it.

You let out a small sigh through your nose, crossing your arms over your chest. You were a bit embarrassed. You were half hoping that he would forget about it. Your response brought all of Steve’s hopes crashing down. “Yeah, yeah I do,” you admitted, rubbing your arms, having suddenly gone cold. “I will admit, I hadn’t planned on saying that this early, feels a bit middle school to say that you love someone before they’re even your boyfriend.”

Steve turned to look at you once again, a bit surprised. Your face had gone red, adorably red, but still very red and your gaze had turned down to the asphalt at your feet. He reached out and took your hand, interlacing your fingers with his. “Good,” he said with a smile. You turned up to look at him; brow furrowed “I thought I had like imagined it.”

“Oh…no you’re good.” You said slowly. He looked like a little puppy dog, his whole face was radiating sunshine; it was almost hard to look at. It was harder to not match his energy, to get drunk off it. Then again, no one was stopping you from just enjoying the moment. You let out a small breath, not so much heavy with sadness or regret, but simply exhaustion. You let your head rest on his shoulder, smiling softly despite the scene in front of you. If it weren’t for the smouldering building and the emergency vehicles surrounding the pair of you, it would almost be romantic. The fact that you were even trying to find romance in the scene felt a bit silly, but maybe that was what this was supposed to feel like. Finding love in a burning building was a bit dramatic, it certainly not what you’d expected for your life, but you determined that no matter what you’d keep Steve safe. You had no idea what was going on at this scene, you had no idea what happened. But no matter how scared you were, you knew that Steve must’ve been even more scared. You knew that you couldn’t protect him, the same way that he couldn’t protect you, but maybe together you could keep each other safe for awhile.

“I love you too, you know,” Steve said quietly, his gaze trailed on the smoke of grey smoke coming up off the extinguished fire. The front of the mall had crumbled and the giant neon ‘Star-Court Mall’ sign shattered on the pavement. You hadn’t seen the mall before the fire, you didn’t know what it was supposed to look like, but a cavernous jagged mouth probably wasn’t the design goal. Still, you turned your attention to the side of Steve’s face. He couldn’t face you, the tips of his ears bright red underneath his flat, sweaty hair.

You swallowed hard “I know,” you say softly. Steve turned to look at you, examining your face with a nervous expression. You smiled and nodded reassuringly “I know.” Steve smiled and laced his fingers with yours. He squeezed your hand tightly in his and you squeezed his back, the feeling of his hand squeezing yours the only feeling left in your body beyond the giddy buzz. You didn’t know how any of this worked, you didn’t know if you were doing this right, if there was a right way to do it. The buzz under your skin was two parts anxiety and one part excitement. But you didn’t pull away. You were glued to his side.

“You know, I think that was one of the first normal conversations we’ve ever had,” Steve mused.

You scoffed loudly rolling your eyes “That was not normal.

Steve shook his head with a small laugh “Yeah, I know…”

154 notes · View notes

instasiswetrust · 3 years

Text

Werewolf AU (Steve centric)

When the wolf finds him, Steve's been sitting on that rock for nigh on an hour. Or at least, he assumes it could've been an hour even when it feels like he's been there for merely a handful of minutes.

He doesn't turn to greet the wolf, doesn't even flinch, heavy gaze entirely focused on the two-story house he can make out at the bottom of the hill. From his place on the raised rock, just at the edge of the trees where the pine forest meets the last remnants of the suburban landscape, he knows no one can spot him from down there. He can see them though.

Two figures, partially hidden by the curtains that frame the open window, sit at a table. He thinks they might be having dinner, trading inane chatter like it was any other day. And you know, maybe it was.

(He tries not to dwell on how much that thought makes his chest ache.)

Behind him, a soft rustle can be heard, the crunching of heavy boots on dried pine needles, before someone sits next to him on the rock. Their legs dangle off the edge of the raised rock, and by the mismatched pink and green striped socks they are wearing, Steve can easily tell who they are.

"It's been two hours, Stevie. Dad thought you had gotten lost in the woods again."

Susie.

(For some reason he had thought Frank would've found him first. He decides not to think about the small spark of disappointment that he feels.)

"Sorry." He mutters, prying his gaze away from the house and facing her properly. She's shorter than he is and it makes him have to look down at her. In her hands is a partially eaten chocolate bar - where she got it, Steve doesn't know - and when she notices his eyes on her, she raises it slightly so he can take a bite from it.

Steve wonders if she's doing it because of the dried tear tracks on his cheeks, or the way his hair is lying limp against his head from all the times he had run his hands through it. Either way, he's glad she doesn't mention it

"Doesn't chocolate make us sick?" Maybe it's ironic for him to ask when he's taking a bite of the chocolate too, but he could do with the sweetness.

"Life without chocolate it's not worth living." And when she smiles, her cheeks dimple in the cutest of ways. It's honest, happy, and slightly manic, childish in a way that reminds him so much of Dustin that he ends up choking back tears.

She doesn't say anything but her eyes soften. Next thing he knows, she's all but pulled him into an embrace, his face smooshed into her shoulder in a slightly awkward angle due to their height difference. The way he doesn't even bother finding a more comfortable position, his whole body relaxing under her touch, is evidence enough of how much he needed something like this.

"I miss them." Whispered like a secret, his words muffled against the fabric of her pink cable knit sweater, even as the first sob wracks through him. “I k-know I shouldn't because they don't s-seem to care that I left but-”

Her hands are on his hair, fingers carding gently through it, even as she hums a lullaby under her breath. It makes him sob harder, face hidden against the curve of her shoulder, hands desperately clinging to her.

Susie never comments on it. She doesn't try to justify his feelings or vilify his parents. Her sole focus is on him, letting him cry it out without caring if her sweater gets stained with tears. Once he's finally calmed down, she waits for him to put himself back together before standing and helping him up.

“Come, Stevie. Let's go back before Dad starts worrying.”

------

The thing about shifting into a wolf was that keeping any coherent thoughts was absolute hell to do, especially when you had only been a wolf for three whole weeks. Thinking he could somehow sneak into town without being seen was foolish to even consider.

That still didn't stop Steve.

Dustin. Robin. Nancy.

Names repeating in his brain that made absolutely no sense to a wolf who couldn't make sense of abstract concepts. But they were important. He could feel it under his skin, like an itch that he couldn't scratch. How he would find them, he wasn't sure, but he would.

And that's how he ends up climbing clumsily into the open window that leads to Dustin's room, making a racket as he topples over half a dozen action figures that were settled on the dresser. His nails clack sharply against the hardwood floors, nose twitching curiously at all the scents that fill the room.

A sudden movement out of the corner of his eye has him turning his head to the side, finding himself at the foot of a raised structure that he vaguely remembers is meant to be den. On it, a human child holds a complicated plastic...thing, pointing it directly at him. He smells of curiosity and fear but under it, all is a scent so familiar that it makes the wolf's chest ache with emotions he can't name, a soft confused whine escaping him.

The child tilts its head at the sound, curiosity seemingly winning over his fear as he crawls closer to the edge of the raised platform, eyes locking on the wolf- No. On Steve.

That single moment of clarity is all Steve needs to trigger back the change, skin morphing and bones cracking, as his body protests with the pain of forcing him back into a form resembling something human. At last, there's no wolf, just a very naked teenager sitting in the middle of Dustin's room with a nerf gun pointed at him.

"Steve?!" He flinches despite Dustin's voice being no louder than a whisper. A cold breeze streams through the open window, making him shiver and reminding him that he's still very much naked.

"Look, I promise I will explain just-" Steve flushes, fumbling with the necklace on his neck until it spits out the change of clothes he had saved in there. "Let me get dressed because this is awfully embarrassing."

"I uh- sure?" And it's clear by his tone of voice that he's choking on a laugh but he does cover his eyes to give Steve some privacy.

It doesn't take long before he's fully dressed, sitting on the corner of Dustin's bed while his friend stares at him with eyes filled with curiosity and accusation. Steve cannot blame him. For all everyone knew he could've been dead no matter what the note he left behind said.

"So you're a werewolf." Not a question but he nods, feeling uncomfortable as he remembers Evan saying he couldn't tell anyone else for the safety of not only himself but the pack.

"You weren't supposed to find out about that but it's hard keeping human thoughts while I remain a wolf." Dustin has that look on his face that Steve knows means he wants to ask more questions but is refraining himself from doing so. It makes him smile at the familiarity of it all. "I'm not actually supposed to be here, in fact."

"Why? Did you get kidnapped by a werewolf cult or something? Is that why you left?"

Steve snorts, shaking his head quickly. "No, no. Nothing like that. It's just for safety, y'know? Monster hunters are common in small towns like this according to Da- according to Evan."

His slip up makes Dustin quirk an eyebrow.

"Were you just about to call this Evan guy, Dad?"

"Look-" But before he could start explaining, the younger boy interrupted him again.

"Wait, you said Monster hunters, not Werewolf hunters. Does that mean other creatures are real? Like Fae, and Tieflings, and Vampires? Is Dracula real? Is Mothman real?" He's firing questions with the swiftness of a TV presenter, Steve immediately putting hands on his shoulders to slow him down.

"Slow down, dingus." He teases, the old nickname making Dustin roll his eyes. "I'm not really supposed to be saying any of this but I guess since you've already seen me..."

"C'mon Steve, tell me at least a little! Please?" And Dustin's known Steve for long enough that he's aware the guy is absolutely weak when it comes to puppy eyes.

He sighs, running a hand through his face before caving in. "Monsters are real, yes. I only know a few, those that have visited the pack for the most part, but Dr. Herman has many Bestiaries around that he agreed to let me read once I graduate from Evan's pack dynamic classes."

Dustin is absolutely beaming with all the new information, a hundred questions waiting to be voiced on his lips but suddenly his expression falls, brows furrowing and teeth worrying his bottom lip. He's avoiding Steve's gaze and his scent stinks of sadness.

"Hey, what's the matter? I thought you would be excited to know Mothman might be real?" He's still saying nothing and Steve is starting to grow worried. Did he do something wrong?

"This means you aren't coming back...right?" It's barely above a whisper but Steve's hearing is so sharp that he has no trouble hearing him. Inside his chest, his heart clenches painfully.

When he shakes his head and Dustin's gaze falls to his lap, Steve feels like his body is being filled with lead.

"I still have my phone with me, and I might be able to visit in the future but... No. I'm not coming back, Dustin." Grief bubbles in his chest, choking him up and making his eyes burn with the tears he wants to shed but refuses to.

Dustin tackles him into a hug, squeezing him so hard that it hurts but Steve doesn't mind, hugging him back just as tightly. If either of them cries they don't bother mentioning it.

It's not important after all.

----

Dawn shines pink and orange over the horizon when he makes it back to the ranch, exhausted to his bones.

Evan is waiting for him in the kitchen when he steps in and Steve is not surprised. The older werewolf had the uncanny ability to know when any of them were getting into trouble, after all. So all Steve does is hang his head, feeling the weight of Evan's gaze on him.

"Sit." He says, and his voice doesn't give anything away. So Steve sits and waits for the reprimanding he's so sure will come.

Except it doesn't.

"You have been crying. Are you hurt?" Evan is truly concerned it seems, his voice firm but not too loud. Is enough to bring the tears back to Steve's eyes, a broken sob leaving him as he hides his head in his hands. And all the older man does is rub his back comfortingly until his sobs have been reduced to occasional sniffles. Only then does he speak again.

"Feeling better?" Steve nods, once, before stopping and shaking his head. Evan chuckles, his gruff voice is oddly comforting. "Ah, here I was thinking you had been taking all these changes a little too well."

"I'm used to rolling with the punches." Steve tries offering him a smile but it comes out looking more like a grimace so he ends up giving it up altogether. He hates how true that statement is but Evan understands.

(Somehow, he always understands when it comes to Steve's parents.)

They are both quiet after that, the silence comforting were it not for the way Steve's stomach roiled with his guilt. He had to say something, apologize, or the shame would eat him alive.

"Look, I'm... I'm sorry I went out to town without telling anyone but it's just- I was homesick, and I missed my friends so much, and I basically left without giving Dustin an expl-" He's babbling out of nervousness, excuses spooling out of him like worn thread but he pauses once Evan settles his heavy hand on his shoulder. Big hands. Hands capable of drawing the softest of portraits with as much ease as they could choke out a deer.

"I'm not mad, pup." Steve has to bite his cheek at that to stop his eyes from filling up with tears again over something so silly as a word. "Kinda expected you to eventually do it. Had Danny's cat familiar follow you last night just to make sure you would be okay."

Steve thinks he should feel offended by that last bit of information but he honestly cannot give a fuck when he's basically swimming in the relief that courses through him at Evan's words. He knows and he isn't mad. Knows and doesn't blame him for showing weakness.

(Knows and still loves him.)

Evan smiles, barely an upturn of his lips but it's there and his words are soft when he says, "Go to bed, pup."

He does. And for the first time in a while, he doesn't dream at all.

#dbd #dead by daylight #drabbles #steve harrington #evan macmillan #dustin henderson #dbd susie #werewolf au

8 notes · View notes

thecreelhouse · 4 years

Text

only for you

Paring: Robin Buckley x Reader

Summary: You’re still in the closet, and so is your relationship with Robin, and you do everything you can to be extra careful the truth doesn’t slip out. Fate during a night roller skating challenges that, though.

Word count: 2.5k

Warnings: some language, mostly a whole lotta fluff!

A/N: changed this up a little from the original request, but I hope y’all still enjoy! <3

“You think today’s the day?”

Robin’s question pulls you from your concentration over lacing up your skates. You quirk a brow at her.

“The day that you stop falling on your ass every five seconds?” You teased, and Robin sighed loudly as she rolled her eyes.

“I mean, you didn’t have to be so harsh, but yeah.” She said, flipping you off. You grabbed her hand, pushing her finger down before letting your hand slip in hers, since no one was around the table you sat at.

Your hands intertwined hung low below the table’s surface, a quick rush surging through you at the subtle sign of rebellion against society’s standards. You’d do anything to live in a world that was comfortable with your love for Robin, but you knew keeping the relationship secret protected the both of you in the long run.

Robin quickly pulled her hand away from yours when Steve strolled up to the table, giving the two of you a curious look before sitting across you. The kids scrambled in shortly after him, rushing to the rental booth to grab their skates for the day.

The skating rink was relatively quiet today, aside from a few couples already making laps on the floor. Your heart sank at the sight of them, hands laced together as they skated side by side, smiles brighter than the lights hitting the disco ball in the center of the room. You wondered what it was like to be so carefree in displaying your love without consequences. You wondered if you’d ever see the day things would get better, where you wouldn’t have to hide away like the monster society saw you as.

“Hellooooo, Earth to Y/N,” Robin waved a hand in front of your face, breaking your stare over the happy couples. You twisted to face her, eyes locking and feeling your heart leap all over again, just like the first time you saw each other. Your gaze strayed to her freckles, glittered across her face, and felt the world melt away as you silently admired your girlfriend.

Steve cleared his throat, glancing at you two with an odd, suspicious look. You snapped yourself out of your trance, relieved you didn’t do anything obvious in public.

“So,” Steve started awkwardly as he got up from the table. “You think Robin’s gonna finally make a full lap around safely?”

Robin sighed, throwing her head back in annoyance. “God, give me a break, guys! It’s hard!”

You giggled, shaking your head, “I dunno, Rob, you freeze up every time you hit the floor.”

Steve smirked at the banter between you two before heading to the rental booth. You sighed in relief loudly as soon as he was out of earshot.

“You’re gonna get us in trouble one of these days, I swear.” Robin teased, voice softer, pinching your side. You squeaked before pouting.

“Maybe, but today’s not the day for that.” You shrugged, trying to let it go, while Robin smiled softly at you.

You got up and pulled Robin along the carpeted sitting area, heading for the opening towards the floor as ABBA’s ‘Dancing Queen’ flooded out of the speakers.

The kids were already a few full laps in on the floor, with El happily being pushed by Mike for a head start, giggling at the feeling of gliding across the floor. Max wanted to hold hands with Lucas, but Lucas was more concerned about showing her the new dance moves he learned last week. Will skated cautiously, smiling at his friends as they passed, linking arms with them from time to time before skating off on his own. Steve was watching over all the kids, but mainly had Dustin glued to his side, talking his ear off about Star Wars theories as they cruised on the floor.

Robin’s arm was linked into yours, gripping onto you for dear life as you gracefully glided the both of you along the floor. The reflections off the disco ball danced across the two of you as you rounded the curved edge of the room.

This was the thing you loved about roller skating with Robin; the two of you could be close like this without raising suspicions. You could link arms, hold her hand, pull her close, all under the guise of keeping her from falling, keeping her safe. Just being a good best friend, showing her how to skate.

You wished you could be open about your love together, but this was the next best thing, at least. It was like getting away with something, and that was better than absolutely nothing.

You picked up the pace, swaying your hips and legs to the music, and Robin giggled before slipping, her skates sending her rolling back quickly. You moved fast enough to catch her before she could hit the ground, holding her up as you hovered over her. The two of you caught your breath at the close call.

“I’d kiss you right now if I could,” You mumbled, just loudly enough for her to hear, and Robin blushed before you pulled her up.

Steve skated past the two of you, cocking a brow as he noticed the moment linger a second too long before rounding the curve, continuing down the floor.

“Jesus, I swear he knows.” You said, slowly skating again, locking your arm in Robin’s, tugging her along.

Robin gained the tiniest amount of balance back before nudging into you softly, “Y’know, Steve knows I like girls, right? I told him last summer.”

“I know, but—“ Dustin whizzed past the two of you, startling Robin before she broke out into more laughter. “— I just- It’s not— What if they hate us? What if they all find out and hate us?”

Robin shrugged, biting her lip softly, “Steve wouldn’t, and I doubt the kids care, they’re just kids, you know.”

You grew quiet, lost in the doubts and ‘what ifs’ that surrounded the mere thought of coming out, even to your friends. Despite all the weird shit you’d all been through, you couldn’t help but worry this was still the weirdest thing. That fighting monsters could somehow strengthen bonds, but the truth about you and Robin would shatter that all. It even sounded ridiculous to you, yet you just couldn’t help but be nervous.

The worrying clouded your concentration, and you felt yourself begin to fall, but couldn’t react quickly enough. All the ways you learned how to “fall safely” were so far out of reach with all your current thoughts spiraling around your brain, and Robin wasn’t experienced enough to catch herself, let alone to catch you.

So you fell, and you fell hard, landing face down as you slammed your nose against the floor. Stars exploded behind your eyelids, making you feel dizzy. It didn’t take long for blood to start flowing, and it stung. You tried your hardest not to cry, unsure what hurt worse, the physical damage or the embarrassment.

Robin slid to the floor, pulling you up gently. She gasped at the sight of your injured nose, wincing at the blood dripping down your face.

“Guess this is karma for making fun of all the times you fell, huh?” You grumbled, smiling through the building tears and the pain that radiated far across your face, now.

The kids slowed in their spots on the floor, looking over to make sure you were okay, and Steve glided over to the two of you, helping Robin pull you up and off the floor. You collapsed onto a heavily carpeted bench- it matched the flooring, with the tacky neon designs. Steve muttered something about an ice pack, and ran off to the rental booth. Robin sat next to you, helping you get your skates off as she offered her flannel sleeve to stop the bleeding.

“This is the gayest sign of affection you’ve ever shown me,” You joked softly, gratefully taking it and holding it to your nose. Robin rolled her eyes.

“Alright, maybe you did deserve that karma.” Robin teased, poking your side playfully. You lazily flipped her off before Steve came back with an ice pack, handing it over to you.

Robin went to lift the flannel to check on the bleeding, and cringed at the sight of dried blood all over your face.

“Okay, yeah, we need to wash your face.” Robin said, sticking her tongue out. She got to her feet before pulling you to yours, waving to Steve quickly as she pulled you towards the bathroom. “We’ll be back!”

When the two of you got into the bathroom, Robin brought you over to the sink, before quickly checking the stalls to make sure the room was empty. She worked quickly to scrub the blood off your face with a wet paper towel, and you squeezed your eyes shut any time she got too close to your nose; it still stung badly.

“Sorry, babe.” Robin mumbled, frowning as she threw the paper towel out before grabbing a new one. She continued to wipe away the last of the blood, smirking at you. “This is definitely karma at work.”

“Shut up,” You huffed, looking away as you crossed your arms. Robin pulled back to check once more that she didn’t miss any spots. Your nose was swollen and red, but the bleeding had slowed enough, at least.

You tore a smaller part of the paper towel off before pressing it to your nose, blotting it again. Robin watched you cautiously, making sure you were okay. Her face scrunched up, eyes falling across your lips. “Oh, god, wait, I definitely missed a spot.”

Your eyes went wide, “What? Where?” as you tried to turn to the mirror to get a closer look, but Robin reached for your chin, gently holding it in place as she smirked.

“Right—“ Robin kissed your jawline softly, quickly moving a little higher, “- here. And here-“ another kiss, closer to the corner of your mouth, making your stomach flutter. “Oh, and here, too—“ she kissed the tip of your nose softly before pulling away, eyes landing on your lips again.

“Robin, someone could see us!” You hissed, though unable to hide your growing smile. Robin shrugged, kissing your cheek, then finally kissing your lips, soft and sweet. She was careful to not press her nose against yours too hard. You knew the risks of being close in public like this, but couldn’t resist her pouty, pillowy lips against yours, or the way she always tasted like strawberries. You wanted more, but Robin pulled back slowly, causing you to whine a little before she rested her forehead against yours.

“We’re the only ones in here right now, and no one uses these bathrooms anyway,” Robin dismissed, leaving a trail of gentle kisses across your face as she smiled playfully. “I’m just checking on my girlfriend, making sure she’s safe, that’s all.”

Robin leaned in to kiss your lips before a harsh, sudden bang! echoed against the door startled the two of you, frozen in place, followed by an “I knew it! I called it!”.

Your eyes fell wide as your gaze never left Robin’s, also filled with fear before moving towards the door. You followed close behind, palms sweating as she opened the door. All of the kids and Steve were squished into the short hallway just outside the door, looking at you and Robin like deer in headlights.

Other than the music playing on the floor, still, the silence among everyone was painfully loud. Eyes darted left and right, waiting for someone to say something.

Dustin was the first to speak up, quietly, “So, does this mean I lost the bet?”

Steve elbowed him, mumbling a “Shut it!” but you and Robin still heard it. Robin scoffed, crossing her arms as she stepped a little in front of you protective.

“So, what’s the bet about?” Robin asked, irritated. Dustin’s face grew red as he shyly stepped back behind Steve, and Steve began stuttering wildly.

“Uh- well you see- the thing is- it wasn’t like a bad thing—“

“These dinguses took a bet on if you two were dating or not,” Max deadpanned, throwing a thumb their way as she rolled her eyes. “Steve thought so but Dustin thought you just liked each other and didn’t say anything.”

“Are you all in on this?” You asked quietly, peeking over Robin’s shoulder. Some of the kids blushed, others shrugged while the rest shook their heads.

“So- so you all knew?” Robin asked, holding her breath. The kids stayed silent, but Steve nodded slowly.

“We kinda knew something was going on, just wasn’t sure what,” Steve said, fidgeting with his hands before shoving them in his pockets. “We’re sorry we eavesdropped, we’ve just been- we all— you know—.”

“We’re happy for you.” Will spoke up, saving Steve’s sinking words. Lucas nodded, smiling.

“You can see how much you care about each other,” He added. “It’s kind of obvious.”

Max nudged his arm lightly, frowning before adding, “It’s cute. We’ve seen the way you fall asleep on each other during sleepovers.”

“We support you.” Mike said, and El nodded with a grin.

“Safe.” She spoke up. “Safe, and happy.”

“That’s all that really matters.” Dustin chimed as he poked his head out from behind Steve.

Robin didn’t realize she was tearing up until you reached out to gently wipe the tears away. She smiled at you before reaching out for your hand, softly lacing her fingers between yours.

“We love you guys, we just don’t want you to feel like you have to hide around us.” Steve reassured, smiling as his gaze wandered to your hands intertwined. “We’ll kick anyone’s ass that says anything, too.”

“If anyone messes with you two, they have to go through us first!” Dustin agreed, and you couldn’t help hide the laughter that bubbled out of you, brushing your own tears away.

“Even if the world’s not safe right now, you always are safe with us.” Steve said, and the kids all chimed in, agreeing and assuring it was absolutely fine to be yourselves around them.

The heavy weight you carried on your shoulders finally lifted, not completely, but enough. You could tell how relieved Robin was, too.

“I think this calls for celebratory slushies,” You said, giggling, and the kids cheered at the idea, racing back to the food stand. Steve laughed as he followed them, turning to you and Robin, waving you along.

Both of you lingered in the hallway a little longer, enjoying the blissful feeling of acceptance among the Party while hiding from any wandering eyes as you held each other’s hands.

You glanced out, making sure no one was in view, just the kids and Steve, and you quickly pressed a kiss to Robin’s lips, smiling against one another. Squeals of excitement across the room echoed from the kids, pulling laughter out of the both of you.

Robin teased, “And you thought I was bold, huh?”

You let go of her hand, already longing to hold it again, but didn’t want to keep the group waiting.

“You know what they say about love,” you joked as she walked side by side with you. Robin bumped her hip into yours.

“That it makes you a total dingus?”

“Only for you, Robin.” You giggled, nudging back into her. “Only for you.”

——

Taglist: @harringtown @jxnehxpper @harrington-ofhawkins @ilovebucketbarnes

@whimsicalwoodlands

#robin buckley x reader #robin buckley x you #robin buckley fluff #stranger things x reader #stranger things x you #stranger things fanfic #my fics #only for you

109 notes · View notes

magniloquent-raven · 4 years

Text

finished your buckleway prompt!! hope u like it 💕💕

modern AU + werewolf AU, enjoy

posted on ao3

Heather’s been dancing around asking Robin out for the past three weeks. Billy has probably had enough of her flip-flopping between waxing poetic and bemoaning how complicated dating humans gets.

Especially since he had ended up in a storage closet with Steve on his knees a whole thirty minutes after they met, and they’d been fucking anywhere and everywhere ever since. She’s getting sick of smelling salt and sex and Steve all over their apartment, but they’ve showed no signs of slowing down. Billy’s smug as hell about it too. He loves having Steve’s scent all over their living space, the disgusting sap.

Of course, he’s still being Billy about the situation, but at least he was getting some action in between bouts of what if he leaves me when he finds out angst.

Whereas Heather is burning through more AAA batteries than she can afford to. Constantly plagued with thoughts of leaving lipstick mark up Robin’s neck, teeth on her collarbone, what that husky voice would sound like wrecked and breathy in her ear.

It’s becoming a problem.

And the closer they get to the full moon the harder it is to be around Robin. The more she wants to just throw caution to the wind, bury her face in Robin’s cleavage and ride her thigh into oblivion.

But she can’t just do that, because they like the same shitty indie bands, and Robin’s rants about the film industry are the highlight of her day, and her laugh makes Heather’s heart do backflips, and…

She’s human.

Heather can’t just jump her and run, because she’s head over fucking heels for this girl, but she has no idea how Robin would react to the werewolf revelation, so… She’s stuck.

As much as Billy pokes fun at her, and lords his relationship with Steve over her, they both know he’s being just as much of an idiot as she is. The wolf isn’t something you can hide from a partner, not for long. Billy’s playing a dangerous game.

Then again, that’s kind of his thing.

Point is, by the time the full moon comes around they’re both miserable. Billy’s been moping around their apartment all day because he had to make a lame-ass excuse to Steve about why they couldn't see each other today. He’s been looking like a lost pup for hours because Steve pouted a little over Facetime.

Meanwhile Heather’s been binging shitty rom-coms on Netflix all day, wrapped around a sweater she stole from Robin last week. It barely smells like her anymore, but it’s all she’s got.

They’re not at their best.

The itch that comes in late afternoon, when the sun starts to make its way down the horizon, is almost a relief. It might not be pleasant but at least it’s a respite from being bored and lonely.

Around dusk they head out.

Putting on a pair of running shoes and shorts pretty much covers for the fact that two grown adults sprinting into the woods at night is suspicious as hell. Hopefully. No one’s questioned them yet, anyways.

Probably helps that they run on regular days too.

Heather stops at the tree-line and sniffs the air. Everything’s sharper than it usually would be. The earth, the clean, dewy scent of wet leaves, Billy next to her, a solid, warm presence, smelling like home, pack, friend, musky and comforting under the chemical scent of all the products he slathers on.

The wind picks up.

She sniffs again.

Kali and her pack are already here. Figures. They’re always eager to let loose, full moon or not. They get especially rowdy this time of the month.

Billy whoops, taking off into the woods with a grin. He must smell them too.

She runs after him, the wind in her hair, cool air needling some colour into her cheeks. It’s exactly what she needed after the day she had. Hell, the week she’s had.

Robin is, for the first time in weeks, not at the forefront of her mind. There’s nothing but the pull of the moon, the rush of adrenaline that comes with it. The thrill of the hunt-to-be.

She won’t be chasing anything but rabbits and her friends, but the buzz is the same. Without the crushing guilt afterwards.

“Always late to the party,” Kali chides when Heather and Billy crash through the underbrush into view. She’s standing in the middle of a clearing, hands on her hips and chin tilted like she owns the place. But her smile is warm, tone teasing.

Her pack surrounds her, grinning, as always, toeing the line between feral and friendly. If Billy wasn’t so relaxed around them Heather would be on edge. They’ve always made her a little uncomfortable.

Billy blames her upper-middle-class suburban upbringing, and...well, he’s not wrong.

They embrace their wolves a little too fully, every day of the year, always just a little lupine. All of them except Kali, who stays too human, even when shifted.

Dottie breaks from the group first, leaping forward and crashing into Billy. She’s tiny, werewolf strength be damned, and he barely moves when she hits, just wraps his arms around her to swing her around while she giggles.

“You stink, Spots,” Billy says when he puts her down. “When’re you gonna stop puttin’ that shit in your hair?”

“When it stops bugging you,” she snickers.

Funshine is next, slower about moving forward, more deliberate about his hug. Dottie re-attaches herself to Billy, trying to wrap her arms around both of them. It devolves into a cluster of the six of them, all scenting each other, hands in each other's hair, arms wrapped around waists, contentment rolling off them in waves.

Heather basks in it for a second, the feeling of pack. It’s soothing, like sunshine warming her face, like a tight hug from someone you love.

It makes the change easier when it hits, moments later. It’s not the agony it was when she was alone.

It still hurts. When there’s hair sprouting like needles pushing through her skin, gums bruising as her canines turn to fangs, of course there’s pain, but the ache is dulled.

She used to hate this part. The slipping away. Changing places with the wolf inside her and feeling it happen. It felt like being torn away and locked up in her own head. She fought against it every time.

It wasn’t until she met Kali that she realized— was taught— that fighting her wolf only makes it worse. She learned to relinquish control instead of having it taken from her. To sink into her own subconscious like a warm bath, relax into it and float away. Become the wolf.

She hits the ground panting.

Claws dig into the dirt. Running shoes get kicked off. They land somewhere in the underbrush. She can sniff them out later, they aren’t a priority right now.

A whine escapes her, pressure building at the base of her skull as the moon rises.

And then it bursts. Relief in technicolour.

She’s free.

Billy is beside her, breathing hard, a guttural growl ripping from his throat. Pungent, sour distress rolls off him in waves, hits Heather’s nose like a physical blow.

He’s always had trouble relinquishing control.

She nudges his arm. Rubs their shoulders together. Kali joins them, lays a hand on his back.

He relaxes eventually, agonizing minutes later, his scent softening back to friend. Pack. Good.

Around them Kali’s pack howls, pleased. Two of them take off, chasing each other through the trees, another follows, Heather listens to their footsteps grow fainter.

Then the wind shifts and brings with it a new scent.

Familiar. Sweet, smoky. Hints of spice. Unmistakably human.

It’s faint. Far enough away that she can’t hear the heartbeat that should accompany it.

But she’d recognize that scent anywhere.

Mate.

Her wolf howls, louder than it's ever been, drowning out what’s left of Heather and her awareness slips away.

The sun wakes her.

She blinks, eyes gummy, vision blurry from sleep, spotty as she adjusts to the light.

Something beneath her shifts.

Heather stiffens.

The sound of the woods around her she expected, the scent of dried sweat on her skin, dirt under her nails. But she also expected to hear her pack’s heartbeats, smell Billy nearby, the pack blending into an overwhelming but comforting blanket of warmth around her.

There’s only one heartbeat, pounding loud and fast against her ear. One scent. Earthy. Spiced.

And afraid.

Heather pushes back, scrambling away from the warm body under her, anxiety tying her stomach in knots.

“Robin!?” she squeaks, croaky from sleep, from the change.

“What the fuck,” is all Robin manages to say. She’s shaking, wide-eyed. “Heather, what— what the fuck!”

This is...bad. Very bad.

Heather can’t do much more than gape at Robin, her brain still trying to catch up to what she’s seeing.

She tries to remember what even happened last night but all she gets are flashes. The turn. Kali’s pack howling around her. The scent of smoke and spice on the wind, of—

Oh. Oh.

She’s always been a little overwhelmed by how Robin makes her feel. Felt it immediately. That connection. A desire to know her, get close to her, keep her.

It terrified her. That Robin is human, that she felt so strongly about someone she barely knew.

That she didn’t quite know why.

Well, she knows now. And somehow the truth is more intimidating.

Of course, her wolf doesn’t care about the risks. Didn’t care, when she sprinted through the woods to find Robin. To be near her.

She remembers bits and pieces. Robin’s quiet gasp when Heather leapt into view. The fierce protectiveness she felt when she smelled Robin’s fear.

Of course, Robin was afraid of her, so getting up close and personal trying to comfort her really didn’t help. Not that she realized that at the time.

She really should be worried about bigger things right now, but embarrassment colours her cheeks anyways.

Dumbass wolf.

Robin’s breathing is starting to sound labored, panic gripping her tighter the longer Heather is silent.

“Heather?” Robin says quietly, tentatively, eyeing her cautiously.

“Um…good morning?” she responds, grimacing as she does. It’s getting hard to look Robin in the eye.

“Really?” Robin laughs, breathlessly and without humor. “Really? Because I was supposed to be waking up in my bed right about now, and instead I spent the night here, not sleeping because I blind fucking terror isn’t a great sedative.”

“Robin, I—” Heather opens and closes her mouth a few times, still at a loss for words. “I’m—I’m sorry. Just— what were you even doing out here?” she groans, burying her face in her hands.

“Full moon ritual,” Robin snaps, “You know, meditating on— no, you know what,” she shakes her head vigorously, bringing up a hand to gesture at Heather, “I’m not the one who has some fucking explaining to do. What the hell, Heather?”

“I thought the whole,” Heather waves a hand, “Hairy and growling on a full moon...thing, was pretty self-explanatory,” she says sheepishly.

“You know what I’m talking about. Don’t play dumb, you’re no good at it.”

Heather blinks. Looks up at Robin, her flushed cheeks and the indignant downturn of her mouth. Despite the circumstances, Heather’s heart flutters.

She sighs. “Alright.” Robin raises an expectant eyebrow when Heather pauses to collect her thoughts. “We spend full moons out here to be away from people. Running on basic instinct around humans generally doesn’t end well.”

“Yeah, no shit. So why am I still alive?”

“I…”

There’s no way of explaining this and keeping her and Robin’s friendship intact. Even if the werewolf thing doesn’t put her off, you never drop the mate revelation on someone you’re not even dating.

Hell, Heather’s still trying to wrap her head around it. She can only imagine how it would sound to Robin.

“Just tell me,” Robin’s pulse is skyrocketing again, and she’s worrying her shirt sleeve between her fingers. The impassive look on her face is obviously fake, she can’t quite keep herself from chewing the inside of her cheek.

Heather watches Robin’s jaw work until she smells blood. “Stop that.” She lifts a finger to poke the side of Robin’s face, but Robin tenses. Minutely. Only for a second.

But long enough.

Heather drops her hand.

“I would never hurt you,” she says softly. “I couldn’t.” Robin blinks at her, and opens her mouth like she’s going to speak but no words come out, so Heather continues.

“When I turned last night, I— I know how this sounds but— I could smell you. You smelled like home. Like… well, the point is, I just… had to find you. The details are a little sketchy, I don’t remember much besides needing to be near you. But that was all it was, Robin. Even shifted I knew you. Knew not to hurt you.”

Robin’s heartbeat hasn’t slowed. Her expression is still shell-shocked, almost more than before. Heather’s heart sinks.

Her eyes fall, unbidden, to Robin’s chest. The visible pulse under her skin. “You’re still afraid.”

“I—” Robin clutches the front of her shirt reflexively, hand over her pounding heart, and then frowns. “You can hear it,” she says, accusing, and Heather recoils.

“I’m sorry! I can’t help it.”

“Heather….” Robin groans “This whole time you could hear my heartbeat?! And smell my— my pheromones, or whatever?” She buries her face in her hands. The tips of her ears are pink.

“It’s a werewolf thing! I—” Heather stops, face burning. There’s nothing she can say to make it better. No one likes knowing that someone can smell how long it’s been since you washed your hair, or how well you washed your hands, or exactly what you’ve been binge eating at 3am. It’s invasive. Took Heather ages to get used to it after she was bitten.

In fact, it still makes her uncomfortable. Enough that she tries to ignore what she’s smelling and hearing as much as possible, for the sake of people’s privacy. And her sanity. The walls of her and Billy’s apartment are very thin.

“I’m sorry, I know it’s weird,” Heather says quietly.

“Yeah. It is,” Robin mutters, muffled by her palms. She peeks through her fingers before dropping her hands into her lap. “Look, just… give me some time, okay? I need a nap. And a shower. And…” She sighs. Tugs on a lock of her hair. “Just give me a couple days. Please.”

Heather blinks back tears. She knows what Robin is asking for is reasonable. It’s better than how she could have reacted. But it still hurts, and a part of her that wonders if a couple days are going to turn into weeks. Months. If she’s just being polite and, in fact, plans on ghosting Heather the second she’s out of sight.

“Okay.”

Robin opens the door to her apartment with shaking fingers. There’s so much on her mind, though her thoughts are muddled by sleep-deprivation, foggy and unfocused.

Heather, hair loose and wild, eyes shining in the moonlight and fixed on Robin. She stopped Robin’s heart even before the revelation that there was something different about her. In the gloom it was hard to tell at first, but details started to stick out. Her eyes were glassy. Fingernails too sharp, jagged and curled into claws. She was barefoot, her posture was all wrong. Her hair brushed aside as she moved and revealed pointed ears, covered in thick fur.

And once Robin started to panic…

Heather’s reaction made no sense.

She has a lot to think about.

Like how devastated Heather looked when Robin told her she needed some space.

“Fuck,” Robin mutters, shutting the door behind her. Maybe a little too forcefully.

“Robin?!” Steve shouts from the next room. Before she can respond he comes skidding down the hallway and barrels into her. “Where have you been?” he demands, too loud and right in her ear.

He pulls back, hands on her shoulders and gives her an appraising look.

“And why are there leaves in your hair?” He pauses, and his eyes widen, full of concern. “Robin, are you alright?”

She struggles to come up with an answer that won’t sound like a blatant lie. And besides the fact that he probably wouldn’t believe her anyways, the whole werewolf thing isn’t her secret to tell.

“I. Um. I’m fine. Ran into Heather.”

You’d think growing up queer in a small town would’ve made her a better liar.

Steve raises his eyebrows. “Then why do you look miserable.”

“It’s…” she sighs, “Ask me tomorrow. Right now I need sleep.”

He frowns. Hard. Frowns with his whole body. But he nods anyway, albeit reluctantly. “I’m late for work,” he says, glancing at the clock on the wall like it’s personally responsible for his constant tardiness. “But I’ll call in sick if you want me to stay. No questions asked.”

That coaxes a smile out of her. His kindness still catches her off guard sometimes. Even after he moved to California with her when she got into uni out here. After she came out to him and he made her laugh, despite how terrified she was. After he got her through the horror of working at Scoops Ahoy.

She steps away from the door, clearing the way for him. “You don’t have any sick days left, dingus. I’ll be okay. Pretty sure I know how to take a nap without supervision.”

“Alright.” he eyes her carefully, “But text me if you need anything. I mean it.”

She nods, and tries to school her expression into something encouraging. He’s going to worry no matter what she does but she can at least try.

It doesn’t work, predictably. He leaves their apartment with a crease between his eyebrows and a lingering look at Robin before he closes the door.

“Fuck,” she mutters again.

Getting herself showered and into PJs takes longer than she’d like. There are so many leaves tangled in her hair she considers just shaving her head so she can go to sleep, and she keeps drifting off, lulled into a stupor by the hot water.

But once she’s comfortably buried under a mound of blankets, clean, warm, and so, so tired, she just lays there, awake.

She keeps replaying her and Heather’s conversation in her head, telling herself she should have reacted better, been better, not run off because...

See, the werewolf thing she probably could have handled. It’s ridiculous, and so fucking out there, but Heather’s still Heather. When she isn’t all wolfy anyway. And even that was weird but not a dealbreaker. She didn’t hurt Robin, just scared the piss out of her.

All Robin needed was to calm down a little to wrap her brain around it.

What she can’t handle is the fact that Heather, because of her fucking werewolf senses, most definitely knows exactly how attractive Robin finds her. Which is fucking mortifying.

Heather never struck Robin as the type to dance around a mutual attraction, so, clearly, it isn’t mutual, and Robin’s just been drooling over a girl who doesn’t want her. Again.

She needs a few days to lick her wounds.

Preferably starting with a goddamn nap, but sleep still eludes her.

She tosses and turns and tries not to think about sad, dark eyes. About Heather’s reassurances. I would never hurt you and You smelled like home, because what the fuck does that mean.

About Heather’s body curled around hers.

Needless to say, the countless times Robin imagined spending a night under Heather the context was very different, and the aftermath…

Robin groans into her pillow.

It takes her hours to fall asleep.

Two days later Steve has been reassured, Robin has gotten plenty of sleep, and she decides it’s time to stop moping.

Her decision to finally put pants on and leave her apartment is made only partially because she has to go to work. Really, she got to this point mostly on her own, promise.

She even sort of plans to talk to Heather today.

What she didn’t plan on was Billy Hargrove ambushing her before her shift.

She’s just barely tied her apron on when he comes storming in. The cafe isn’t even open yet.

“What. The fuck. Did you do,” he snarls, slamming his hands on the counter when he gets close enough, leaning forward to glare at her.

“Hargrove, it’s too damn early for this, what are you—”

“Heather, dumbass. Tell me what you did to her.” It’s not a question, it’s a demand. There’s a coldness in his expression she’s never seen before.

Granted, she’s only ever hung out with him when Steve is around.

The way his shoulders tense, like he’s ready for a fight, almost scares her, but she’s too busy getting angry at his belligerence.

“Fuck you. I didn’t do anything—”

“Don’t lie to me.”

Something clicks into place.

“Oh,” Robin narrows her eyes, “You’re one too, aren’t you.”

Billy growls, a little more wolf than human. “Yeah, you got a problem with that? That what this is about?”

“No, oh my god.”

“Then tell me why Heather’s been a fucking wreck since the full moon. She said you found out about her, and that’s all I can get out of her.”

“I… don’t know?” Robin’s stomach flips, and clenches painfully. She tugs on a lock of her hair. “I asked her for a bit of space, that’s it. I was going to text her today.”

“You better.”

“Alright, calm down, Mr. Macho,” Robin says flatly. God, he’s just the fucking most. She’d almost be able to appreciate how much he cares about Heather, if his wrath wasn’t currently focused on her.

He glowers a bit longer before retreating. Not even a goodbye, he just storms off.

Asshole.

He’s right though, she needs to text Heather. Who’s been just as miserable as Robin, apparently.

And hasn’t told her best friend why.

That bit of information niggles at her. All through her shift it lingers in the back of her brain, hanging back but always there, like the buzzing of an insect she can’t find.

By lunchtime it’s gotten so distracting that she’s fucked up five orders and dumped two drinks on her coworker.

Thankfully she’s done at noon, and her now very annoyed coworker tells her to piss off the second her shift is over.

She hasn’t texted Heather yet.

Every time she pulls her phone out she draws a blank. Has no idea what to say. “Hey, I’m done moping, sorry I hurt your feelings” doesn't seem to cut it.

She stares at her phone for fifteen minutes, motionless and completely at a loss, then sighs and tosses it on the passenger seat of her car.

Before she has time to question whether it’s a good idea or not, she pulls out of the parking lot and heads to Heather’s apartment.

It’s only a ten minute drive, but it’s plenty of time to second guess herself. And third guess. And fourth.

But she’s here, she’s doing this. She’s sweating bullets, but it’s happening.

Two flights of stairs later she’s staring at Heather’s front door, fist poised to knock, and not moving a muscle.

She takes a step back in surprise when the door swings open suddenly.

Robin blinks.

Heather’s standing in the doorway, hair loose and frizzy, deep purple shadows under her eyes. It looks like she hasn’t slept in days.

Her mouth is hanging open a little, and she’s staring.

“Uh. Hi,” Robin says. “I… can I come in?”

“Yes. Yeah, of course,” Heather fumbles, and runs a hand through her hair as she steps aside to let Robin in.

They stand in the front hall awkwardly after the door shuts behind them, shooting each other nervous glances but unsure what to say.

“I—” Robin pauses. Looks down. “Is that my sweater?”

Heather’s eyes widen, and she grasps the hem of it nervously. “Um. Yeah. Sorry, I can—” She starts to pull it off but Robin reaches out to stop her.

“Don’t.” She wraps her fingers around Heather’s wrist. “It looks good on you.”

“...Oh.” Heather’s lips curl in a pleased smile that sparks something in Robin’s chest.

“I was being an idiot,” Robin says quickly. Her heart is starting to pound, and she catches Heather glancing down curiously. “I—I just assumed that—” She closes her eyes briefly, frustrated. It’s no less difficult to put into words in person. “Look, you know I’m into you, right?”

Heather startles, eyes going wide. “What?!”

“You…” Robin gapes at her, “You didn’t know? I thought— I mean, all those things you said about… needing to find me. During the full moon. I— you got my hopes up but then…Look, you can hear heartbeats and shit! How did you not know?!”

“I...” Heather grimaces briefly, “It’s not an exact science, okay? I mean, I hoped you were, but you’re human, Robin,” she folds her arms across her chest, hugging herself, “I was more focused on that.”

Robin furrows her brow. “What? Why?”

“Seriously? Because all I did was cuddle a little too aggressively and I scared the shit out of you,” her voice cracks and her eyes start to look watery, “You’re my mate, Robin, I’m bound to you for life! And I had no idea if you’d ever want to see me again!” She stops suddenly, bites her lip as tears slip down her cheeks.

“Oh.”

Robin’s feeling a little like she’s been conked on the head. Dazed. Her brain trying to catch up with what’s going on.

She’s known Heather less than a month and apparently they’re already werewolf married, or whatever the hell mate means.

It’s slightly terrifying, but…

“Heather, look at me.”

She does. Looks up at Robin with red-rimmed eyes, and Robin’s whole chest contracts.

Without really thinking she leans down, and presses her mouth to Heather’s. It’s brief, chaste, but still makes her stomach flip and warms her from head to toe.

When she pulls back Heather sways forward, unbalanced for a moment, her eyelashes fluttering.

“I want to give this a shot, Heather. I… I’m sorry I freaked out, but I swear, I want this. You. All of you.”

Heather grins in response, bright and dazzling. It lights up her whole face, and her eyes start to well up again. Seemingly at a loss for words she instead chooses to launch herself forward, colliding with Robin as she wraps her arms around her and crashes their lips together again.

Robin staggers back a few paces but regains her balance enough to respond in kind, smiling against Heather’s mouth.

She feels right, wrapped around Robin, feels safe. Like home.

#robin buckley #heather holloway #bucklway #bucklway fic #robin x heather #robin buckley x heather holloway #a raven's writing desk

18 notes · View notes

abundanceofsoph · 4 years

Text

SkyFire 1: Chapter 28

Christmas & New Year’s in NYC: December 2015

Word count: 3k

SkyFire 1 MASTERLIST

>Instagram posts

Instead of splitting up for Christmas or trying to decide which family they should spend the holidays with, Aurora and Harry decided to invite Harry’s family out to New York so they could all spend Christmas together. Gemma and Robin’s kids all decided to go to their partners families so Anne and Robin were happy to fly out to them.

Harry flew back to New York with Rori on the 16th after the X Factor show and the couple spent the week leading up to Christmas finishing the decorations around the penthouse, watching sappy Christmas themed romcoms and going ice skating in Central Park.

Anne and Robin flew in on the 23rd and in an attempt to avoid the paparazzi, Happy picked them up from the airport and brought them to the tower. Once they arrived, Anne pulled Harry into a tight hug while Robin went to greet Aurora. After dropping their bags in one of the guest rooms they all headed for the kitchen where Steve was cooking dinner for everyone. It was a casual night in, just Harry, Aurora and their parents with the rest of the Avengers having dinner on another floor to give them some time with Anne and Robin. Once dinner was finished and the dishes were cleared, they all moved into the living room to watch a movie and stayed up late into the night sharing stories of Christmases past. Aurora always loved when Anne would tell stories from when Harry was little, and he would bury his face in her shoulder as he blushed in embarrassment. Steve entertained them all with stories of Christmases in the 1920s and Aurora shared a few tales from her own childhood. The large pine tree in the corner provided the room a soft glow as they chatted, and the large wall of windows looking out over the city provided a beautiful backdrop. Aurora nuzzled into Harry’s chest as conversation flowed until she finally dropped off to sleep. Everyone took that as a sign to turn in for the night and Harry gently lifted Rori into his arms and carried her to bed.

xXx

Harry had spent the morning of Christmas Eve taking Anne and Robin to the holiday market in Union Square. He was happy to spend time with his mum and stepdad, but also wanted to be able to give Aurora her space, knowing that December 24th was always an emotional day. They headed back to the tower after lunch, stopping at Aurora’s favourite bakery along the way to pick up donuts for everyone and an apricot Danish for Rori.

Most of the Avengers were sprawled out in the living room when they got back, excited to see the boxes of donuts in Harry’s hands. While Anne and Robin joined them on the sofas, Harry turned to Tony. “She downstairs?” he asked, expecting Aurora to be in either of her studios as she usually spent her mother’s anniversary.

“No,” Tony replied. “Last I saw she was in her room.”

Harry scooped up the Danish and headed down the hall towards Rori’s wing of the penthouse, finding her pacing across the smaller living room there.

“Brought you back a Danish from Maggie’s,” he said as he approached her, he quickly dropped it on the nearby coffee table and pulled her into his chest as soon as he spotted the tears dripping down her face. She was shaking in his arms as he held her but didn’t make a sound as her tears stained his shirt. “It’s ok love,” he soothed. “It’s ok.”

“Every year I think it’ll get easier,” she whispered, “but it never does. It always hurts so much.”

“I know baby,” Harry murmured, his hands rubbing circles in her back. “You’re always going to miss her. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

“I really thought I’d be ok,” she said. “Last year was so much easier with you and your family, but this year I feel like I can’t breathe.”

“This hasn’t exactly been an easy year, love,” he replied. “I don’t think it’s all that surprising that you’re struggling more with missing her after everything that’s happened.”

“I just don’t know what to do, H,” she confessed. “Usually I’d paint, or I’d play or just do something to get out what I’m feeling but I haven’t been down to the studios in months.”

“I could go down there with you if that would help,” Harry offered.

“I… I don’t think I’m ready,” Rori replied. “I know it won’t be as easy as it was, and I’m scared to find out I can’t do anything the way I used to.”

“Ok,” Harry said. “Today’s probably not the best day to tackle those fears so what do you say we go for a run. Just the two of us. We can run until we’re dead on our feet and then curl up in bed and watch The Santa Claus.”

“That actually sounds perfect, Harry.”

“Alright, come on let’s go get changed.”

After quickly slipping on some work out clothes, they both pulled on their hoodies and headed for the elevator.

Tony turned in his seat to watch them pass by the living room. “Just going for a run in Central Park,” Aurora explained.

“Ok, have fun kids,” Tony replied. “Make sure you’re back before it gets dark.”

Once the elevator reached the lobby, they left the building and crossed the street. They both stretched out their legs before heading off north towards Dalehead Arch at a gentle jog. After a few minutes of jogging, Aurora broke out into a harsh sprint and Harry sped up to follow. They ran for the better part of an hour, until they were both sweating heavily, their breathe ghosting in the air as they bent over, hands on knees as they gasped for air.

“Feeling better?” Harry asked once he regained the ability to speak.

“Much,” Rori gasped. “We should probably head back; the sun will be setting soon.”

Harry reached out for her hand, lacing their fingers together as they turned for home, slowly walking along the paths as the sun sank lower in the sky. As they walked, they started to cool down, the winter air biting at their skin. Aurora tucked her left hand inside the large front pocket of her hoodie, her fingers turning cold where they poked out from the brace. She shivered a little, drawing Harry closer to her side and letting him wrap his arm around her. When he let go of her hand she tucked it into her pocket as well.

“We’re almost back,” he said. “Want to jog the last bit?”

“Yeah,” Rori agreed. “I’m exhausted but it’s too cold to stay out any longer.”

Harry nodded and they both increased their pace to a light jog, soon reaching the edge of the park and crossing the street. They both sighed in relief as soon as they stepped into the welcoming warmth of the lobby, smiling at the receptionist before heading towards the bank of elevators. Rori blew warm air onto the tips of her fingers, while Harry rubbed his hands together and they both laughed at each other’s bright red faces. When the elevator opened on the penthouse, they stepped out to find everyone exactly where they’d left them two hours ago.

“Good run?” Steve asked.

“Yeah,” Rori smiled. “Exactly what I needed. Bit cold out though.”

“A bit cold?” Harry chuckled. “It’s bloody freezing out there.”

“Yeah ok,” Rori said. “It’s more than just a bit cold.”

“Go shower and get into something comfy,” Steve told the pair. “We’ll come get you when dinners ready.”

They did as they were told, heading down the hallway towards Aurora’s room and the large bathroom leading off from it.

“How about I run us a nice hot bath instead?” Harry asked.

“Sounds wonderful,” Rori agreed, heading over to her chest of drawers to pull out her thick Christmas pajamas and then grabbed Harry’s from his case before joining him in the bathroom. The room was already warming up as it filled with steam and she quickly stripped out of her hoodie and active wear, as did Harry and they both sank into the hot water of the bath. Aurora situated herself between Harry’s legs, leaning back against his chest as his arms wrapped around her waist. She left the brace strapped around her hand and opted to rest it on the lip of the tub instead of taking it off. While she’d shown Harry the scars on her stomach and shoulder, she had yet to show him, or anyone, the mess that was her hand and she still wasn’t ready for him to see it. He hadn’t pushed her, but he had noticed the way she never let him in the bathroom when she went to shower or any other time she needed to take the brace off, and he hoped she would realise soon that he would never be horrified or disgusted by what was under the brace, just as he hadn’t when she’d finally shown him the rest of her scars two weeks ago. As if in answer to her silent fears, he placed soft kisses to both her shoulders, paying special attention to the golf ball sized knot of scar tissue on the back of her left shoulder from the exit wound. She lent her head back against his chest, relaxing into his arms in the warm water.

“Feeling better?” he murmured.

“Much,’ she replied. “I love you, Harry.”

“Love you too.”

xXx

Christmas Day in Avengers tower was loud, and the penthouse was crowded. Having grown up with only her mother and her unofficial family from the bar, Aurora was surprised to find that she absolutely loved the crazy, bustling madness of the ragtag group assembled around her. Thor, Clint and Natasha was piling their plates high while Bucky and Sam bickered over crackers. Tony and Steve, with Peter’s help, continued piling more and more plates of food on the already full table, while Rhodey, Pepper, May and Happy were laughing cheerily as they took photos in the paper crowns from their own crackers, and Bruce was chatting with Anne and Robin. Harry sat by Aurora’s side, one of his hands on her thigh as the he dug into his food with the other, a bright smile lighting up his face and making his dimples pop. They all migrated to the sofas once they were all full to bursting and spent the rest of the day lounging around enjoying each other’s company.

xXx

Anne and Robin left a few days after Christmas and Aurora and Harry spent the week before New Year’s watching movies, going ice skating in the park or doing anything at all that let them spend time together.

Before long New Year’s Eve was upon them and everyone got dressed up for the massive party Tony was hosting, and by 11:30 the penthouse was crowded with people, the music loudly filling the space as people danced and drank away the final hours of 2015.

Aurora slipped down the hallway towards her room, towing Harry along behind her until they were away from the flashing lights and the swarming mass of people. She pushed him against the wall, attaching her lips to his as she pressed her body against him in the dark. They kissed for a while before Harry spun them around, pining Rori against the wall as he lips moved down along her jaw.

“Did I tell you how beautiful you look tonight?” Harry asked, leaning in the suck on the skin below her ear.

“You did,” Rori sighed, tilting her head, inviting him to continue. “But please, feel free to keep saying it.”

Harry chuckled into her neck. “I know this year was bad but 2016 is going to be good for us.”

“I think you’re right,” she agreed, lacing her fingers through his long curls and tugging his face up to kiss him again. “I’m feeling more like myself every day.”

“I love you,” he whispered, lips brushing lips.

“Love you too,” Aurora replied. They pulled apart a few minutes later when they heard someone shout out that it was nearly midnight. Rori adjusted her dress and smoothed out Harry’s shirt before they made their way back down the hall and into the living room where everyone was gathered around. The patio doors were open, and people were gathering out on the balcony in preparation for the fireworks display and the large flatscreen on the wall displayed the ball, ready to drop.

Harry wrapped his arms around Aurora as he stood behind her, his chest pressed tightly against her back while his chin rested on her shoulder looking out across Central Park as they waited for the fireworks to start.

“10… 9… 8… 7… 6…”

As everyone began to shout out the countdown, Harry spun Aurora in his arms so that she was facing him, kissing her deeply as the countdown reached one, and everyone screamed out wishes of happy new year. Harry blocked it all out, focused entirely on the beautiful woman in his arms. They were both so swept up in their kiss that neither realised that the fireworks display had started until they pulled apart. “Happy New Year my love,” Harry murmured in her ear as he quickly spun her back around. He heard her giggle as she moved and he returned to his previous position, holding her tight with his chin on her shoulder. The fireworks burst against the night sky and Aurora’s laughter died on her lips. Due to the way his was pressed against her from hip to shoulder, he instantly felt the change when she froze, her breathe sticking in her throat as her heart began to thunder in her chest. Before he could ask, she was spinning around to bury her face in his chest, her chest heaving as she gasped for air and trembled in his arms. It took him a brief moment to realise what was happening but as soon as his thoughts caught up with him, he bent down, scooping Rori into his arms and rushing from the room. As the elevator doors closed behind him, the sound of the fireworks was muffled but he didn’t stop until he reached the soundproof booth of the recording studio, dropping down onto the sofa in the corner of the room, Aurora still cradled in his arms as he attempted to calm her.

A few minutes later, when she was still shaking and gasping for breath, Harry realised that he was out of his depth. “JARVIS?” he asked. “I need you to get Sam down here now.”

Sam appeared at the door a couple of minutes later.

“What happened?” he asked, falling to his knees beside the couple.

“The fireworks triggered her PTSD I think, so I got her down here as quick as I could, but I can’t get her to calm down,” Harry said in a rush, his own face wet with tears.

“Right,” Sam nodded. “You did good Harry.” He reached out to touch Aurora’s shoulder, but she flinched away, burrowing closer against Harry. “Rori, it’s Sam. You’re safe. There isn’t anyone here who’s going to hurt you. You’re safe Aurora.” His voice was low and level, calmer than Harry knows he was when he was trying to soothe her before Sam arrived. “Harry’s here,” Sam continued. “Can you hear his heartbeat? Can you feel his breathe? I need you to try and breath with him kiddo.” Sam looked up at Harry as he spoke. “Need you to steady your breathing too, Harry, otherwise this isn’t going to help much.”

Harry nodded, focusing on his own breathing, taking deep, deliberately calm breathes to encourage Rori to mimic him. Slowly she began to settle against his chest, the shaking lessening more and more as the minutes ticked by until she was almost completely still in his arms.

“You with us again?” Sam asked calmly, once again placing his hand on her shoulder.

“I am,” she whispered softly. “Sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry about,” Sam replied, his voice still calm and slow. “We talked about how this might happen, remember? I’m guessing you didn’t mention it to Harry like I suggested given how freaked out he was when I got here.”

“No, I didn’t,” Rori admitted. “I’m so sorry Harry. I just thought I’d been doing so well and the pyrotechnics at the X Factor didn’t set me off at all, so I figured I’d be fine tonight.”

“S’ok love,” Harry murmured, his hand rubbing along her spine. “Just wish I’d known how to help you.”

“You did,” she promised. “You got be somewhere quiet and got Sam. Couldn’t have done any better.” She sat up a little to kiss his cheek.

“I’ll leave you kids to it,” Sam chuckled. “Have JARVIS let me know when you’re ready tomorrow and we’ll have a chat, yeah?”

“Got the surgeon in the afternoon,” Rori replied.

“We can talk before you go to the hospital then.” Sam stood up from where he’d been kneeling on the floor and headed for the door. “JARVIS can you let them know when the fireworks have stopped?” he asked before he left the room.

“I really am sorry, H,” Aurora said after Sam left.

“Please don’t apologise,” Harry replied. “Not your fault.”

Instead of replying she kissed him deeply, putting all her love and appreciation in the way her lips moved against his.

“Don’t know what I’d do without you,” she said when they pulled apart.

“Good thing you’ll never have to find out,” he replied, a soft smile on his face as he lent in to kiss her again. “Happy New Year Rori.”

“Happy New Year Harry.”

I’ve made the decision to split this story into two halves.

This is the end of SkyFire 1: The First 5 years.

It seemed like a good place to end and then I will pick up the story in SkyFire 2: The indefinite hiatus.

I have a lot planned for these two characters and I’m really excited to have you join me 😊

SkyFire 2: The Indefinite Hiatus

READ THE COMPLETE FIRST PART ON AO3

#skyfire fic #aurora stark #dad!tony #iron dad #step dad steve rogers #stony #stony fic #boyfriend harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #superfamily #harry styles #tony stark #skyfire

10 notes · View notes

okaybutlikeimagine · 5 years

Note

So Steve and Jonathan and Billy hanging out???

So uhm OF COURSE babe! ♥ ♥ ♥ I LIVE for this shit.

{Disclaimer: recreational drug use}{AKA i’ve basically just made our boys stoners, woops}

Okay, so i’ve talked before about Billy’s relationship w/ Jonathan and how he gets close to him and why. I’ve also mentioned (wayy more briefly) Jonathan’s relationship w/ Steve and how I think they’d be cool. Steve and Jonathan would work at being cool w/ each other bc Steve loves the kids but he also likes having friends that are his age. I just… LOVE the idea of Steve being touchy and friendly and sweet to Jonathan and Nancy. I know Nancy kinda broke his heart and his relationship w/ Jonathan has been tumultuous at best but I think they’d all work to be close bc let’s face it, nothing brings you closer than a near death experience. And those 3 have had MULTIPLE so far.

So they’re close and Steve will push himself inbetween the two of them when they’re walking together and sling his arm around their shoulders and kiss a cheek on both of their faces. Jonathan always blushes and says: “Y’know, ever since you came out as bi you’ve been-”

Steve cuts him off with: “Happier? Funner? More beautiful?”

“More annoying.”

Steve feigns offense.

So i just REALLY think that these boys have good relationships w/ each other. Steve and Jonathan are good friends, Jonathan and Billy are brothers, and Billy and Steve are dating.

And Steve, who I think loves people and loves having friends, wants to hang out w/ them as often as possible. He loves spending time w/ Robin, obviously. They’re basically best friends. He also really likes hanging out w/ Nancy and Jonathan (esp bugging them). But sometimes he says they need a “guys night” to which both Nancy and Robin roll their eyes but Steve is absolutely adamant about.

So Steve is standing outside of their house to pick Billy and Jonathan up and is asking them where they wanna go. They mention the quarry.

But the thing is, they always go to the quarry and it’s always to smoke and Steve is just fed up with that right now. Billy and Jonathan already smoke a LOT and whenever Steve wants to hang out w/ them they suggest the same damn thing.

“Oh c’mon guys, let’s do something fun.”

“Yeah, smoking is fun, babe.”

“But we always smoke. I wanna do something different… let’s go to the pool!”

Jonathan makes a face. “You know I hate the pool.”

“Alright… let’s go to that coffee shop you love on the edge of town!”

Billy gags. “You’re kidding, right? I’d rather be caught dead than go in there.”

“Augh, c’mon there has to be some place you both wanna go.”

And Billy and Jon just share knowing glances before they turn that same look onto Steve. Steve sighs out dramatically.

“Fine! We’ll go to the quarry to smoke. But the more we do this the less fun it is! We need to start doing something fun! Going out to smoke all the time isn’t fun. Especially not when I’m the one who has to keep bringing the weed!”

The boys are walking to Steve’s car now, and Jonathan turns around to walk backwards so he can face Steve.

“We’re broke, Steve. We can’t afford weed all the time.”

Steve calls bullshit on that and cites Jonathan’s 3 jobs. Jonathan denies said 3 jobs. Billy says he and Hop are going to force Jonathan out of 2 of those jobs bc “You don’t need to bleed yourself dry to help everyone anymore, take a goddamn break!”

And soon they’re in Steve’s car, bickering over music bc that’s just their relationship w/ each other. They’re Always bickering about music. Hey, when you get 2 of the most opinionated boys on music together, they’re going to bicker. It’s always amicable enough, anyway.

And so they go to the quarry to smoke. Which yes, they do far too often for Steve’s liking, but Steve still has fun. Bc getting high is, in itself, a fairly enjoyable act for him. He gets real giggly and happy. But getting high w/ Billy and Jonathan is a whole different story. Jonathan gets so peaceful, those worry lines on his face disappearing, the stress in his eyes gone as he looks up at the stars and points out things he sees in them. Billy’s frown slips into the sweetest, gentlest smile. He talks to Steve a lot bc Steve likes to talk a lot when he’s high and Billy always matches him on it. Always entertains all of Steve’s weird little ideas.

Jonathan always lays down on his back to look up at the stars. Billy always sits with his legs splayed forward, leaning back on his hands so he can look around everywhere. Steve will sit with his legs folded up a bit, his arms cradling them, ankles crossed, knees out wide, hands clasped in front of them. They’ll find a soft 60’s/70’s channel on the radio and turn the volume up enough so they can hear it from outside of the car and let the sounds flow over them and pretend like they’re in a different time. Like they’re in a different place. One time Steve laid on his stomach and hung his head out over the edge of the cliff down to the quarry and looked at it. Watched the water beneath him. Billy followed suit, as did Jonathan (after quite a big bout of paranoia)(I know Steve is mom to the kids but I like to think Jonathan is mom to the teens and gets worried for all of them)

So it’s nice. It’s just… soft. Sometimes Billy will lean with his back against Steve’s car and Steve will be inbetween his legs leaning back against Billy’s chest and they’ll just watch Jonathan on his back as he plays with the smoke leaving his mouth. It’s all just so calm. They feel they deserve it. Life has been hell for too long. They find peace in the presence of each other and let that be alright.

And Steve really does love those soft moments, he DOES. But one night Steve is like: “Actually, there’s gonna be a good music video on MTV tonight, soooooo…”

And he takes them back to his house. And the two other boys are a little grumbly and confused until Steve walks in and turns the lights on and he’s basically bouncing his way over to the living room and the boys follow him slowly and they get to the living room and-

“Oh my god.”

The coffee table in front of the TV is filled with food. Multiple bags of different kinds of chips and a carton of cookies and 2 boxes of Coke cans and 3 fucking pizzas and-

“Holy shit, Steve, who else is invited over?” Jonathan asks, walking up to the table very confused.

“It’s just us! Guys night!! Plus I know Billy’s gonna eat about half of it.”

Jonathan nods in sudden understanding and Billy is looking at his boyfriend like he’s the best and goddamn craziest person ever.

“Alright!” Steve heads over to the table, separating the pizza boxes. “I got us all separate pizzas because I know we all like different toppings. I got New and Classic Coke because I know you-” he points to Billy. “Are a heathen who likes New Coke.”

Jonathan gives Billy a horrified look.

“You like New Coke?”

“You Midwesterners are weird as fuck, New Coke is no fucking different!”

“You’re wrong and it’s embarrassing, babe.” Steve says with his hands on his hips. “Anyway, I also bought every type of chip I could find and a carton of cookies because I couldn’t help it.”

He gives the two boys a bright and cheesy smile. Jonathan laughs and Billy kisses Steve’s cheek before asking: “But where’s the weed?”

Steve groans. “Seriously?”

“You bought a bunch of food for us to eat but no weed? Don’t you know what munchies are, babe?”

“Fine, I’ll go grab some weed from my room. But put MTV on!”

“What music video is on tonight?” Jonathan asks as Steve leaves the room.

“I dunno!” He calls out. “I just wanted to go somewhere other than the quarry!”

Billy and Jonathan roll their eyes, but they break into the Cheetos, Jonathan grabbing a can of Classic Coke and shaking his head in disapproval as Billy reaches for New Coke. Billy chugs the entire can while making direct eye contact with Jonathan.

“You’re a monster.”

Billy crushes the can on his head.

“And a moron.”

They watch the random music videos that are on TV. It’s a lot of Tom Petty and Bruce Springsteen and some Mick Jagger and Prince.

Jonathan says Springsteen’s voice makes him sleepy and that his music is too much for him. Billy and Steve boo Jonathan for the comment and throw Cheetos at him in protest. Steve does a beautiful cover of Girls Just Wanna Have Fun to which Jonathan quietly applauds and Billy yells “that’s my babe!” Billy sings every single Springsteen song that come on and gets very excited when the music video for I’m Still Standing plays.

And Steve is very very happy, under Billy’s arm and watching as Billy kicks at Jonathan’s leg to ask him to pass the cookies. Sits there and smiles bc these are his friends and he just… he loves having them here, in his house, making it feel so full and alive and comfortable.

#billy hargrove #steve harrington #harringrove #jonathan byers #ask #stevenhargroves #fluff #tw drug use #they just smoke weed #lots of weed #stranger things #music #lots of music references just for you babe ♥#also bc i don't think i'd ever be able to write these 2 w/o a bunch of music references #billy hopper #billy gets adopted #bratty billy #also i have some tHOUGHTS about Steve potentially kind of canonically liking New Coke!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!111 #i mean most people hated it but ESP people from that region where they use the term coke for soda!!!#aughhhh!!! anyway!!!!!!#i loved writing this so much♥♥♥#i got so carried away w/ dialogue that i cut most of it out and forced myself to stop writing it #i might make a separate post just of the dialogue i wrote bc it's too much #way too much to have put in here #bc i'm a mess and like writing billy and jon being bratty w/ each other

67 notes · View notes

fanficsloth · 4 years

Text

Jonas Brothers- Like It's Christmas

Henderson Reader X Steve Harrington (1370 Words)

*** Sorry if this is sucky. I worked all day and had writers block for the LONGEST TIME. Please enjoy ♥ ****

Everyone was gathered in the Henderson living room, decorating on their Christmas tree.

"I have an amazing idea, how about we do a grab bag?" (Y/N) asked.

Dustin rolled his eyes, "Are you serious? This is the most stupidest thing I have ever heard.", "Or be a part of." Mike agreed.

"What's a grab bag?" El asked (Y/N) with her bright innocent eyes shinning more extra with the lights hitting her eyes.

"It's where we put everyone's name in a bag, shake it up and whoever you get, you give them a Christmas gift."

"That sounds fun!" the pure girl smiled.

"You down Harrington?" (Y/N) nudged him on his side while sitting on the arm of the couch making him break out of thought from stabbing his finger from putting popcorn on the string. "I- sure." he smiled to make the girl he loved so much happy.

But she did not know that. He didn't want to ruin what he had with her. He only thought they were strictly friends.

"Then it's official. Everyone write down their name." she handed everyone a small piece of paper with a red sparkly pen to top off the Christmas theme.

"Steve why would you even agree to do this. She's like a Christmas crazed freak." Dustin spoke, "Just let her do what she wants, plus you might get something cool out of it." Steve shrugged not breaking eye contact with the needle with scrunched brown eyes.

"Leave granny out of this. We all know he loves (Y/N)." Max laughed, making all the kids look at him with big cheesy grins. But (Y/N) was oblivious of what was going on she was more interested in the tree, but that didn't stop Steve from stabbing his finger.

"Son of a bitch." he dropped the needle to put the small poke wound in his mouth, "See." Max pointed at him before rolling her blue eyes.

"Listen you little brat, that's not your business and secondly 'granny'? It's just so hard to see the damn needle. It's so small." he shook his head making his famous hair shake.

"Who's a granny?" (Y/N) asked, "Steve. He can't see the damn needle." Dustin chuckled at the embarrassed man.

"Awwwh, poor thing. You better stop teasing him. We're even lucky he's doing this with us. Plus he's a cute granny." her pink lips smiled before placing all the names in a brown paper bag. Totally missing Steve's blushing face.

"El, will you do the honor of shaking the bag for us?", El took the time shaking it well mixing all the names. "I think it's ready." she leaned her head on (Y/N)'s shoulder.

"Pick a name and pass it around. But make sure it's a secret.", as the bag got passed around it was Steve's turn.

He reached down in the bag and unwrapped the folded paper.

There it was, her elegant handwriting in red sparkly pen. He coughed before handing it to her making her get the last paper in the bag.

"We shall return here with the gifts on our family Christmas party." (Y/N) smiled before standing up and returning to the tree.

He has to get a gift for her. Her out of all people. He could've just gave the kids some candy and a stupid toy. But for her? He had to give her something nice. Something that would make her happy, something that would finally get him a chance with the girl he longed to be with.

The next day, he was at work with band-aids on his fingers.

"What the hell happened to you dingus? A paper cut? You're biting your nails again aren't you?" Robin asked, "Can you shut it. I was helping (Y/N) with her Christmas tree." he rolled his brown eyes while huffing.

"What else is bothering you?", "You know I like her. I don't know what to get her for Christmas. She wanted to do this stupid grab bag and I got her name." , "Doofus this is fate. You were meant to get her. To finally tell her."

Steve sat there thinking on what he could get her. "You hang out with her. What does she like?" he asked his red headed friend. She shook her head while smiling. "She likes you and she will like whatever you get her. Trust me. Get her a necklace or something. She likes simple things." she smiled and patted him hard on the back.

"Yeah right. She'll probably burn what I give her. Also she doesn't like me. She only puts up with me because of the kids." , "Stop being such a baby. Do it. I'll cover your shift until you find something that screams (Y/N). At the end I'm always right." while pushing the taller boy out from behind the counter.

Steve ran fingers through his hair before finally walking past the stores and looking in the windows to see if anything she likes.

He was finally getting rid of hope before stumbling across something that screamed (Y/N) like Robin said. Steve's face lit up in a smile while running into the store.

Weeks pass, and the Christmas party is tonight.

Steve got on his best clothes to impress the girl who he loves.

The snow was covered on the ground while still falling from the dark sky. When he finally made it to the Henderson's house.

As he had the present hidden in his coat pocket, the door opened to reveal (Y/N) in a dark green dress with a Santa Clause hat on.

She was beautiful more than ever.

"Steve you made it! Dustin was worried you weren't going to show up. He said something about how he had to do this stupid grab bag, on his own." she laughed, "I would never do such a thing?!" he placed a hand on his chest acting offended.

"There you are. Quit flirting with my sister and let's go. I wanna see what someone got me already." Dustin grabbed Steve dragging him into the basement.

All the kids were surrounded by the fireplace, with cups of hot chocolate. As Steve found his usual spot, he was handed a cup by (Y/N) with a small smile painted on her red lips.

That made his heart flutter.

"Okay. Give your gifts to your person.", Everyone was so excited of what they got.

All the kids were occupied with their new items for Christmas. As the pair watched them with smiles planted on their faces.

"Here.", (Y/N) handed over a small wrapped up gift to him. He was in awe.

Maybe Robin was right, this was fate.

He unwrapped it and found a movie tape of Back to the Future. "You wouldn't shut up about it after everything happened." she laughed.

"I love it, thank you." he smiled showing off his dimples.

He was nervous. And he was never nervous with girls.

"I-I have a gift for you too.", Max whispered El to show her what was going on.

Steve shoved his shaky hands into his pocket to find the small box. He handed it to (Y/N), she opened it and her eyes lit up with happiness.

In the tiny box was a small dainty silver necklace with a snowflake dangling on the end.

"Steve. I- I", "Hate it. It's ugly. It's the wors-", "Steve." she placed a hand on his cheek and made him look into her bright (Y/E/C).

"I love it. Here put it on." she turned around quickly and gave him a quick smell of her vanilla perfume.

His shaky hands and latched it on.

"How does it look.", she fixed her (Y/H/C), "Beautiful", "Shiny" Max and El smiled.

"Gross. Steve are you hitting on my sister?", "Their practically engaged now." Will made a comment making everyone laughing.

As the night went on, the pair sat next to each other with their hands tangled. Her head laying on his shoulder.

"I just want you to know Robin said it was fate. I believe that crazy woman. But I also want you to know I love you, I can't deny what I'm feeling. Everyday you make it feel like Christmas." he whispered into her hair.

"Merry Christmas Steve Harrington. I love you too."

#steve x reader #steve harrington #christmas #fluff #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x re #steve harrington one shot #cute #fanfic #fan fictions #hello #christmas imagine #stranger things #stranger things imagine

21 notes · View notes

teaspacebar · 5 years

Text

far too young die (8.5/???)

a/n: oh geez, here we go again - but this time it’s from steve’s point of view! this is a cute little bonus chapter that i thought was important enough to put in here. i might do more bonus chapters like this in the future, let me know if you like me writing other pov’s.

aglist: @ashtounding @orchideax, @asheseiler @steve-harrington-said-gay-rights @kake-babe @sweetpeabellamyblakedracomalfoy

relationship: steve harrington x reader

word count: 500+

summary: you just wanted to keep your job at the starcourt mall movie theater. all you had to do was find out how these kids were sneaking into the movies without coming in the front door. your small little movie theater conspiracy ends up pulling you into something a lot bigger, and a lot scarier.

previous part / series masterlist

bonus chapter: looking like a dream

Steve hadn’t realized he wasn’t still in love with Nancy until he was sitting on the floor of that movie theater bathroom, after he had puked his guts – and most of the Russian truth serum – up. Until Robin had asked him.

Because there was you. And no, he didn’t think he was in love with you. But he liked you, definitely. You were funny, smart, and nothing like Nancy Wheeler. There was also the fact that in his drug induced state, he remembered things.

Like how you two would climb up trees in your backyard and pretend to be adventurers finding a new land.

How you’d watch awful movies in your living room with a bowl of popcorn and M&M’s whenever his parents dumped him at your place.

And that time when you gave him a present for his 13th birthday. After you two had stopped hanging out. Well, after he completely forgot about you like the douche bag he had been. It was filled with pirate themed items, since Steve had his own guilty pleasure that he would never spoke about to his “new” friends at school. There was no card, but now it rang clear in his mind.

How the hell could he forget about you? The only person that had been there for him for over half his life. And he had let popularity and teenage bullshit get in the way. He couldn’t remember seeing you that much in the halls at school, much like he didn’t remember seeing Robin.

You always made him feel cared for. Made him feel like he mattered. And in the past month he felt that feeling again, but it hit him differently now that he could connect the dots.

So, he dumped it all on Robin. Which was probably not the smartest decision at the time, since the way Robin took it was not how he meant it.

He found out a little something about Robin, too. He explained, after laughing for a minute, that he wasn’t talking about her, but about you. Which caused another round of embarrassed, hysterical laughter from the both of them. But they were good. If a bit drugged, still.

Until you had burst through the door, looking like a dream in your high-waisted jeans and striped long-sleeve shirt. Dustin and Erica had entered in behind you, but his eyes were drawn to yours. You looked between a mix of exasperated, worried, and relieved.

“You two are idiots,” you muttered, taking your backpack off your shoulder so you could unzip it. “Dustin, watch the door please. Erica, can you help Robin get patched up? She looks better than Steve does.” You pulled out a small first aid kit, handing the younger girl a couple Band-Aids and some Neosporin after you ran your eyes over Robin quickly. She looked like she had a few cuts and bruises, Steve had taken most of the brunt force of the Russians, probably.

“Hah, I’m cuter than you.” Robin stuck her tongue out at Steve, who rolled his eyes and kicked her shoe with his own.

You cleared your throat, pointing at Steve, “You, up. You look like shit.”

“Thanks, I had no idea,” Steve groaned, standing up and walking slowly over to where you stood by the sinks. You patted your hand on the counter, and he hopped up with a pained grunt. As you got everything ready to clean him up, he saw a fire burning behind your eyes, and Steve new he was in for a verbal beating to match the one he already had physically.

#far too young to die #stranger things #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #stranger things 3

33 notes · View notes

edgelordtozier · 5 years

Text

new person (same old mistakes)

a/n: this is my steve and robin Friendship fic bc they're best friends 🥺🥺

AO3 LINK

description: After the events of The Battle of Starcourt, Steve Harrington finds himself going back to an all too quiet empty home. Overtaken by feelings and a sense of anxiety, he calls his new best friend Robin.

They have a sleepover.

Steve Harrington felt hopelessly hopeless. Grasping onto something small that would never actually happen anytime in his life, but something he longed for so deeply it pained him. Though he did not know precisely what it was he was longing for. Love, perhaps; or maybe just Nancy Wheeler, who was most definitely wrapped up in Jonathan Byers' arms right now, warm and protected despite the traumatic events of the day.

Steve wished he could feel protected.

He truly was alone if he really thought long and hard about it. His parents didn't give a shit about him, too busy with their jobs and their perfect lives without their imbecile of a son. He didn't have a girlfriend anymore, and even when he did she didn't truly love him as he did her. And his only real friends were children much younger than him, who would be busy soon at a school he'd already graduated from.

To top it all off, he'd spent the last few days with terrifying Russians punching him around and drugging him up, all ended off with a huge monster that nearly killed everyone earlier in the day. And sure, it hadn't all been terrible; the parts where he got to joke around with Robin and Dustin and Erica made up for it all in a way he couldn't explain.

The part where he professed his newfound feelings for Robin was embarrassing, though. Getting rejected always sucked. But he found it wasn't as bad as he expected it to be. Getting told by a girl he had feelings for that she didn't like him in that way —not because he was a bad person— but because she liked other girls herself was much easier to take, he found. And of course he respected her. He would have been stupid not to. She was hilarious, beautiful and so smart; it would have been a loss to not settle for just friends.

His feelings hadn't dissipated just yet, but he knew they would soon. He wasn't desperately in love like he had been—or maybe even still was—with Nancy Wheeler. It was a crush, something that easily could have developed into more if he hadn't been let down in such a way. He didn't have a problem with the way she didn't like boys the way society told her she should have.

Sure, if she would have told him a year or so ago he probably would have reacted in a much different way; but that was a result of the people he surrounded himself with. Tommy H. and those shitheads who emphasized what he already hated about himself and misconstrued everything to make it look like he was the bully, when it was really their actions that got them into mess after mess. And Steve played a part in most of them, he would admit. He wasn't just a bystander, watching and allowing. He partook in the shitty things they did, and he wasn't proud of it. But it was usually their plans and their pressure that pushed him into executing those things.

He was glad he'd abandoned them after the fight with Jonathan Byers. After Jonathan had beat the living shit out of him while the love of his life— who he'd just called a slut publicly; painted by Tommy in red on the big sign in the front of the movie theater while Steve watched and didn't protest— watched and pleaded with them both to just stop fighting. Steve realized he probably should have on his own, rather than only stopping when the police arrived and acting on his own cowardice. Maybe Nancy would have thought higher of him and perhaps they would have still been together. But that probably wouldn't have happened anyway. Steve had done something fucked up, and he knew that helping clean it up afterwards didn't excuse it.

Nancy just liked Jonathan more than she'd ever loved Steve. According to her, their relationship had been bullshit from the start; so maybe Steve shouldn't have put as much as he did into it. But he couldn't have helped it. He'd been in love with Nancy ever since he'd laid eyes on her; spoken to her and seen the way she smiled shyly and looked down at the ground. He wanted to protect her, love her, keep her happy. It seemed Steve was bad at doing anything right nowadays.

He'd failed at that, failed so desperately to just keep Nancy happy. Maybe he didn't even put enough into the relationship in the first place, maybe he was just bad at being a good boyfriend, maybe he'd just always make the same mistakes over and over again. She'd left him and he'd been alone, so alone and so melancholy.

He wanted to feel alive, so he fucked girls who just wanted a good hook up. He liked it, but the euphoria was never as much as it had been when he was with Nancy, so deeply in love and infatuated. It would never be the same.

And then he'd graduated, and the loneliness jerked up to an all time high. He had Dustin Henderson, the curly haired kid he'd fought interdimensional monsters with a while before and become best friends with, giving him tips on picking up girls despite just how fucking atrocious he was at it himself, but that was all. Dustin looked up to him for whatever reason, and Steve couldn't bring himself to tell the kid he wasn't role model material. He was just Steve Harrington, the fuck up with good hair who somehow got lucky with girls when he had been in high school.

Dustin had gone to camp the first month of summer. He'd shown up to Steve's high school graduation with his mom and a plate of cookies, congratulating him on actually finishing high school despite his low grades. He'd graduated high school, but that didn't mean he'd go to college, Dustin had joked. The poor kid didn't know just how true that statement really was.

Dustin had sent him a toothless grin and thumbs up, performing the handshake they'd made up before Dustin announced he'd be leaving for camp the next day. They said goodbye on the field while Steve was in his cap and gown, holding a plate of cookies with foil on the top, as he watched Dustin Henderson walk away. After that Steve drove himself home to an empty house, where his parents were absent. They hadn't bothered to go to his graduation. They'd only left a note on the dining room table that said "congratulations," a one hundred dollar bill underneath. He'd pocketed the money, ate a cookie or two and went to bed, feeling worse than ever.

In that month that Dustin was gone, the Starcourt Mall had opened. The town adored the place, despite the older residents protesting the fact that the downtown area was all too empty now. Steve found it to be an opportunity.

He'd gotten a job at Scoops Ahoy alongside Robin, and it had been easy enough. He didn't make a lot of money an hour, and the job definitely wasn't his passion; but he had no other choice. His father didn't believe him to be smart enough to work for his company, despite Steve being his only son. It was unfair, infuriating and unprecedented. He could have at least given him a chance. But Steve had to settle for something else, something simple.

He didn't know that working at the ice cream place would have such dire outcomes. But now, there he was, sitting on the sofa in his empty home late at night with a bruised face, clad in his bloodied Scoops Ahoy uniform, hands clasped together and nails scratching nervously at his palms. His house was too quiet, too silent for him to feel comfortable, safe, protected. Jesus, would he ever feel protected?

The happenings of the day had been far too much for Steve to handle; the aftereffects of the Russians beating his ass and the hangover of whatever drugs they had given him only added to discomfort. Robin rejecting him and telling him she liked girls topped it all off; which wasn't nearly as horrible as the rest. He supposed all that mattered was their friendship remaining intact. But then there was coming face to face with Nancy and Jonathan again and the monster- huge and terrifying- trying to kill all of them. And then the end of it, when Billy Hargrove- the bastard- died on the ground with his sobbing step-sister beside him and Steve thanked fuck it wasn't him dead on the ground, with no one to cry by his side.

The military had arrived after that—led by Dr. Owen's from Hawkins Lab—and they'd all gotten out of the mall. Steve was guided into an ambulance and his wounds were treated, though he'd played them down as if they hadn't mattered and told them all he needed was bandaids. After a while they hadn't bothered fighting him on it, ignoring his nasty black eye and the purple and yellow bruise taking over his cheek.

He'd wrapped himself up in a blanket, walked over and made small talk with Nancy and Jonathan about what had happened. He'd asked them where they'd go after they were all released, and they'd told him they were going back to Nancy's house together. When they asked him the same question, he'd lied and said he was spending the night at a friends house. He didn't want them to pity him if he told the truth and said he was going to be completely and utterly alone all night.

After that he'd talked to Robin and Dustin, spoke to them animatedly about whatever came to mind in an attempt to get that thing out of his head. His parents didn't come to pick him up, as expected. The keys to his car had been taken by the Russians earlier so Steve, much like after his graduation, walked home.

And now here he was, nervously picking at his fingernails, his teeth gnawing at his bottom lip hard enough to worsen the split of it from the earlier beating he'd endured. He still lived in his parents' home and he knew they didn't mind. Why would they? They were never home anyway and it didn’t tamper with their work. Though Steve hated the goddamn house, hated how large and quiet it was.

And now it was too quiet. So, so, quiet;, quiet enough that Steve could hear his own heart beating rapidly; the sound of cars driving by outside; the phantom sound of footsteps that weren't really there, that he was really just making up in his mind out of nerves. He could turn on his TV, but the old thing barely worked anymore. It was an older model and he'd had it for a few years. He could have turned on his radio instead, but he didn't bother getting up. He didn't know if he refrained from turning it on because he was scared of the slight chance of hearing the familiar growl of the monster again or if he really was just too anxious to stand up.

He could hear his breathing, the inhale and the exhale growing faster as time passed.

Steve shot up. He stood up so fast that his vision grew blotchy for a moment, and he clenched his jaw so tight that it hurt, grinding his teeth together out of annoyance. Annoyance towards what, he didn't know. Perhaps he was annoyed by the way he was acting. Big bad King Steve breaking down because it was a little too quiet and he felt lonely and scared. Jesus, he sounded like a child.

Steve ran a shaking hand through his hair, ignoring the ache of his bruised knuckles; a wound he'd developed after hitting a Russian guard. Dustin had been so proud, and Steve found he felt pride in himself for even just a second.

He shook off the initial blur of his vision, sighing under his breath as he found himself walking over to the telephone plugged into the wall in the kitchen above the counter. He had a phone in his room as well, but there was no use in walking all the way upstairs just for that.

He grabbed the phone, holding it up to his ear as he used his other hand to dial the number, the number he'd memorized the day it had been told to him but had never called before. He'd never had a real reason to call it, they'd seen each other nearly every day all summer due to their shared job.

"Hello?" A familiar tired voice on the other end rung out, breaking Steve out of his thoughts and making him jump in surprise.

He let out a heavy sigh, running a frustrated hand down his face and wincing when he touched the prominent bruise on his cheek. "Robin? Hey, it's...uh...it's Steve. Y'know, Steve Harrington? The Steve you work with?" He rambled out.

Robin laughed on the other end, a noise that Steve had found himself growing fond of. "You could have just said you were Steve, you dingus. I'd know which Steve we were talkin' about. I only know seventy other ones."

"Really? You know more Steves?" Steve asked with a chuckle, raising his eyebrow to himself. Talking to Robin helped him realize just how nervous he had been beforehand; made the shaking of his hands cease to a minimum.

"No, dumbass," Robin spoke, and Steve swore he could almost hear her roll her eyes. "What did you call me for? I was like half asleep, man."

Steve bit the skin on the inside of his cheek too hard, flinching lightly at the pain before he let out a shaky sigh under his breath. He found himself sighing a lot nowadays. "This is a really weird question and you can say no if you want to, but uh…do you want to come over for the night?"

The other end was silent for a few long seconds and Steve hated how it made his stomach churn. Before he could open his mouth to assure Robin was still on the other end, she spoke, gently and tentatively. "Steve…. you remember what we talked about in the mall bathroom today, don't you?"

Of course he did. The talk where Robin let him down and told him she liked Tammy Thompson rather than him, despite her singing sounding like Kermit the Frog and Fozzie Bear’s love child. Steve didn't mind, but the conversation was still fresh in his mind, made only more vivid by the shock that he had felt in that moment. Nonetheless though, it meant nothing now. Steve just wanted to be friends with Robin, and her sexual orientation didn't change that. Besides, he needed to withhold at least one friend his age.

Steve laughed, shaking his head. "Not like that. I'm not gonna make a move on you, don't worry. The embarrassing feelings are gone. Pretend I never said anything about them," He said simply before he cleared his throat almost awkwardly. "Y'know it's just my parents aren't home and… uh… kinda still fucked up over the Russians. I thought maybe you'd want some company too," He paused. "I've got a pool."

Steve heard Robin chuckle gently on the other end, letting out the slightest sigh before speaking. "Yeah sure, moron. But if my dad catches me sneaking out, it's all your fault. You've gotta use your rich boy money to pay him off," He heard Robin stand up, rustle through some things and open up her window. "What's your address, Harrington?"

Steve told Robin where he lived, listened to the girl hum and explain how she wrote it on her arm in blue glitter gel pen before she hung up and presumably began her trip to Steve's house. He didn't know if she had a car, and he probably should have asked beforehand, but he hadn't thought about it in time.

He set the phone back down on the wall, walking away and sitting back down on the sofa. It was two in the morning, still dark outside with barely any light seeping through the blinds over the windows. Steve had nothing on in the house but a measly lamp and he just hoped the monster was really dead and that the thing wouldn't start flashing the lights like it had that one time at Jonathan's house.

The thought of the monster was a thought that seemed impossible to force out of his mind. His focus would stray at times, but mostly kept to that one thought, that one impending image of a monster running after a car and a teenage boy that could have been him dead on the floor.

Steve hated it.

He hated that the second he got home from the mall he'd found the bat he kept stowed away under his bed, the one with nails stuck inside of the wood; and he'd placed it on the coffee table in front of the sofa, eyeing it with unease as he sat down.

Steve looked over at the bat, found himself swallowing thickly at the mere thought of those things he'd fought off by the abandoned bus; at the terrified look on those kids’ faces when they'd blocked off the entrance, held it down as a means to keep those things out; at Max's scream when she saw one pop it's head in through the top, growl at her with such vigor. He was a good babysitter, he supposed. At least, Nancy had thought so. But what does she know?

Everything, maybe. Everything about Steve that he'd tried so hard to keep bottled up. She knew he was a shitty boyfriend. She knew that their relationship; that her love for Steve was bullshit. Though Steve's love for her was never bullshit. It was far from it.

Steve averted his gaze from the bat, turning it up towards the ceiling. He could smoke something, numb the pain in his face and his knuckles and his brain. But that would just remind him of his father, the way he'd come home one day to Steve laying against the counter, a giggly mess with bloodshot eyes and terrible smelling breath. The way his father had pulled him up too roughly and yelled at him, asked him if he was doing drugs. The way Steve mumbled out "it's just marijuana, dad," had earned him an incredulously angry glare from his father. The way his father dropped him back down on the floor and muttered that he wished he'd gotten a better son than Steve.

Steve understood why they did. If he'd been a better son, perhaps he would be working happily in his father’s large company, not having to deal with all this… bullshit. Fuck, maybe Nancy would want him back if he wasn't full of so much bullshit.

Steve jumped when the doorbell rang, more antsy than usual. Huffing to himself at his own behavior, Steve stood up and walked over to the door, opening it without bothering to look at who was there.

Though he didn't have to, as Robin stood behind it as expected. She too was still wearing her Scoops Ahoy uniform—minus the hat—blue and white now stained with just the slightest amount of dirt and vomit and perhaps some blood, too. She looked tired, purple bags under her eyes and her hair tangled. But despite that, she smiled. "Ahoy," She greeted jokingly, eyeing Steve's uniform in amusement. He knew his was definitely covered with blood and vomit from earlier, as gross as it was, but he hadn't the energy to change.

"Ahoy," Steve chuckled, stepping aside and gesturing for Robin to walk in. She did so, stepping foot in his home and almost immediately furrowing her eyebrows, looking around. He noticed the smeared ink on her arm, glittery blue just like she'd explained on the phone. He could have laughed if he weren't still so damn shaky.

"Shit, this is huge. Or bigger than my house, at least. I knew you were loaded but damn, dude," Robin laughed out, looking over at Steve with a grin before she plopped down on his couch, legs propped up on the coffee table, one crossed over the other.

Steve shut the front door, locking it and moving to sit down beside Robin. He watched as she scrunched her nose up in confusion, reaching out and grabbing the bat from the table, tracing her finger over the nails with a confused expression. "Something like this happened last year too. And a little before that," He explained in a mumble, pointing to the bat.

"Holy shit. This town is mega fucked. I've never noticed anything before," Robin shrugged, placing the bat back down. "So, you scared or something? Of the huge monster?"

Steve didn't find himself trying to argue on it because, yes, he supposed he was scared of the huge monster. He found himself nodding a bit, sighing. "A little. I just don't like being alone much. It's- iIt's lame, I know..." he trailed off.

Robin nodded in understanding before she stood up. "Well, let's go to your room," She spoke, rolling her eyes at Steve's responding raised eyebrow. "Not for that, moron. I like girls, remember? Tammy Thompson?"

"Ah. How could I forget that you liked the muppet?" Steve joked with a laugh, shaking his head as he stood up, guiding Robin up to his bedroom. She followed, laughing at his words the same way she had in the bathroom at the mall. He loved her laugh; the way it sounded raspy, cracking just barely in the middle.

"She was cute! And I liked her perm. Usually perms are godawful, but hers worked with her face shape," Robin explained with a chuckle, not wasting any time to sit herself down on Steve's bed when they walked inside his room, right down on his plain light blue bedsheets. Steve turned on the lamp placed on his bedside table.

"Uh-huh. Whatever you say. I still think hers was terrible," Steve spoke with a small grin, sitting beside Robin. "She looked like Barbra Streisand but worse."

"Hey! I'll have you know that Barbra Streisand is hot—smoking, even!" Robin exclaimed, looking at Steve with a wide smile.

"Oh yeah, smoking in the crematorium. She's old, and if anyone looks like a muppet, it's her," Steve joked with a laugh, watching curiously as Robin stood up from the bed, moving to look through Steve's drawers. "What the hell are you doing?"

Robin chuckled, "You're being an ass to Barbra, so I'm gonna look through your stuff," She spoke, opening up the first drawer. Steve laughed as she snorted in amusement, holding up a box of condoms. "Gross. I'm assuming you haven't used these in a while?"

"Ha ha, very funny. I use them plenty," Steve deadpanned, rolling his eyes. That was a lie, of course. Steve hadn't had sex since a little before summer began, and even then it was a terrible hook up.

Robin placed the condoms down, opening up the second drawer. Her eyes widened, grabbing the magazine inside and holding it up in front of Steve, who's eyes widened as well at just which one she held. "You have Playboys?! You really are lonely. This room is a ‘Steve and his right hand’ zone, huh?"

"Of course. I should get a sign that says just that and put it on my door," Steve pointed out casually, nodding his head and watching as Robin pulled out the other three Playboy magazines out of the nightstand, walking back over and sitting down on the bed.

Robin raised her eyebrow at the top one in the stack, chuckling. "You're real updated. You've got the July one and everything."

Steve chuckled, looking over at the magazine cover. "My dad has a subscription. He tells me not to look at his mail and just put it in his nightstand but I steal his Playboys sometimes. He gets pissed at the mailing company for screwing up and gets a new copy for free," He spoke. "I have the Madonna September issue too."

Robin's eyes widened as she picked up the Madonna 1985 September issue, flipping through the pages with an undeniably large amount of interest. "Tell your dad I said thank you," She joked. "You may suck, dingus, but you have good taste in women."

"Maybe," Steve mumbled lightly, unable to help the image of Nancy Wheeler that popped into his brain. He swallowed hard, finding himself picking at his fingernails again. He stopped, shaking off those thoughts and mumbling a joking, "You can't really relate to the good taste in women part."

"Maybe not," Robin laughed out, nodding along to Steve's words before she closed the magazine. "Can I keep one? I'll give it back in like a week or something."

"Keep as many as you want," Steve shrugged. He didn't really mind. He had more under his bed anyway, if he really needed to let off some steam. It wasn’t like he’d found his libido to be too high nowadays.

Robin grinned widely, grabbing the Madonna issue and two other ones, placing the one she didn't want to keep back in Steve's nightstand, shutting it and setting the magazines on top. She turned back around, looking at Steve for a moment before chuckling. "Your face looks shitty."

Steve surprised himself by laughing, nodding a bit. "Gee, thanks. That makes me feel a lot better about myself," he joked, still grinning to himself.

"You moron, I mean your bruises. You look stupid with those bandaids on your face. All of that is gonna get infected and you're gonna get like, Russian herpes or some shit," Robin explained, shaking her head. "Where the hell is your first aid kit?"

"Russian herpes? What's the difference between American herpes and that?" Steve asked with a raised eyebrow, "and in the bathroom cupboard."

Robin laughed, walking off to the bathroom connected to Steve's room, grabbing the first aid kit from the cupboard before coming back to the room. "Russian herpes is like a crazier, gooier herpes. You're gonna have huge warts on your face and when you touch them, they'll pop and there will be puss all over your face and in your hair and shit," she joked with a grin, opening up the first aid kit.

"That's disgusting," Steve chuckled. "I knew a girl with herpes. She stopped showing up to school. I think she got pregnant," He mumbled, watching as Robin laughed, yanking the bandaids off of Steve's cuts before pouring some sort of liquid on a cotton swab before pressing it against Steve's wounds. He couldn't help but let out a yelp, flinching back. "What the fuck?"

"See, this is why I didn't warn you it would hurt," Robin huffed. "Stay fucking still." She spoke, dabbing the cotton against the rest of his cuts and bruises. Steve flinched every time as well, but tried to stay as still as possible. "Getting pregnant would blow. Good for us, huh? You're not gonna get pregnant, are you?"

Steve chuckled, shaking his head. "Not planning on it. Who knows, though? Maybe I'll get reckless one of these days," He joked with a grin, wincing when Robin began to place larger bandaids on his cuts, gentler than she applied the liquid to them.

"That'd be a sight. Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington with a child. Or maybe herpes. Maybe...both, like that girl!" Robin laughed, moving away from Steve's face and closing up the first aid kit, going to put it away before coming back to the room. She sat down on his bed, raising her eyebrow. "Sleeping arrangements, hot shot. What's it gonna be?" She grinned.

"I've got a sleeping bag if you wanna sleep on the floor. But you like girls, so us sleeping in the same bed shouldn't be a problem for you, should it?" Steve asked, genuinely asking.

Robin chuckled. "Nah. Wouldn't bother me at all. You sure it wouldn't bother little Steve though?" She asked jokingly, wiggling her eyebrows.

Steve rolled his eyes, finding his cheeks growing just barely red, simply out of embarrassment. "I'm sure! I would be fine! I told you, feelings are gone."

"Alrighty then, Stevey," Robin grinned, pulling off her shoes and lying on the right side of Steve's bed over the comforter, either lacking shame or just so comfortable around her newfound best friend Steve that it seemed she lacked shame. "You said you had a pool. I'm gonna swim in it tomorrow morning."

Steve chuckled at her bluntness, nodding his head and lying on the left side of the bed, hands clasped over his stomach as he stared up at the ceiling. "Sounds good," He smiled lightly, shrugging. He found himself comfortable around Robin;, more so than he probably ever had with Nancy. With Nancy, he was always so worried about being the perfect tough guy for her; the perfect guy who didn't feel anything heavy except for anger and protectiveness over his girlfriend. With Robin, he could be himself, because Robin was his best friend, nothing more, and that was much better than having a girlfriend; despite his earlier opinions.

It was silent for a few minutes, comforting silence that didn't leave Steve anxious and worried. Nothing but the sound of their breathing and the occasional chuckle Robin would let out at nothing at all.

"Do you still love Nancy Wheeler?" Robin asked after a while, catching Steve by surprise. He glanced over, eyes a bit wide, caught off guard. Robin was still looking up at the ceiling, smiling to herself.

Steve thought of his answer for a moment, swallowed and averted his gaze back up at the ceiling as he poked his tongue out to lick his lips nervously. "A little, yeah," He whispered. "I think I always will."

Robin let out a laugh, a laugh that made Steve furrow his eyebrows and look over again, look over as Robin laughed harder. "That's so lame," She explained as she calmed down, looking over at Steve with a grin. "Nancy Wheeler is hot as hell, but you're Steve Harrington. All the girls that aren't lesbos like me are in love with you! So why are you so obsessed with Nancy, out of all people, when there are so many better girls out there?"

Steve sighed, shaking his head with a bitter chuckle. "None of them like me anymore. I've lost it, I guess," he murmured, shrugging.

"Exactly why I had that board. You suck," Robin smiled wide, "which is why you should take a break. Relationships are shitty and clearly you're not good at them. Word of advice, get over Nancy. She's over you."

Steve knew it was true. As much as it pained him to hear it, Nancy was over him. And Steve should have been over her too. He shouldn't have been constantly reminiscing about what life was like with Nancy Wheeler, but he couldn't help it. She was the love of his life and getting over her would never be easy. For him, their love was nothing close to bullshit.

"It's not that easy," Steve mumbled simply, letting out a sigh.

"I wouldn't know. I've never been in love. Guess I'm not educated enough to tell you what to do, but still. You should try to get over Nancy," Robin smiled gently, glancing over. "She's just fucking you over."

"I guess so…" Steve trailed off. "The monster today... did you think it was gonna kill you?" He asked curiously, mostly as a means to avert the topic.

"Nah, man. I wasn't, like, petrified with fear or anything. Maybe I should have been but it was pretty cool to see. Same with the Russians but, hey, I wasn't the one getting my face bashed in," Robin laughed. "What about you, dingus? Were you scared?"

"Already told you; a little. I thought I was gonna get killed or something like that. And I probably would have been if Dustin and Erica hadn't shown up..." Steve spoke, nodding slowly.

"Most likely. That little dude is cool as hell. Annoying, but cool," Robin grinned. "He reminds me of you, but nerdier."

"Come on! I'm not nerdy enough already?" Steve joked with a grin that mirrored Robin's, looking over. "You couldn't tell from my extensive Star Wars VHS collection?" He joked again. He definitely didn't have one. He'd only ever seen the first ever Star Wars movie, anyway. And during that, he'd only been ten years old.

"How could I have possibly forgotten?! You're a new man! You know everything there is to know!" Robin smiled wide. "Who's your favorite Star Wars character?"

"Uhhh… the little green guy with the sword," Steve said slowly, making little motions with his hands that really didn't help to explain at all.

"You're amazing! Star Wars extraordinaire. You should partake in trivia, I'm sure it exists," Robin joked with an amused laugh. "You'll get tons of chicks if you join a fan club."

"Seriously?" Steve asked, genuinely curious as he held himself up by his elbows, glancing over at Robin with a grin. "I'm sure Dustin knows a few I could join. I just have to catch up on the last couple of movies and I'm golden."

"Oh, are you?" Robin mocked with a chuckle. "No, moron. Hot girls will scatter if you start talking about sith lords and R2D2."

Steve furrowed his eyebrows for a moment. "What the fuck is that?"

"Exactly! You don't know anything about it either. Nerd girls will hate you and so will the popular girls! All the girls! Sucks for you, dingus." Robin smiled wide.

"What will get me girls?" Steve huffed out, letting himself fall back down on his bed.

"What did we just talk about, Steve? No relationships for you until you get over Nancy," Robin scolded, flicking Steve in the side of the forehead, to which he winced and rubbed the spot with the palm of his hand.

"For future reference!" Steve defended, shaking his head.

"You're asking the wrong girl, Harrington. Flirting is nowhere near my expertise," Robin chuckled, waving him off.

"Then what is your expertise? Using your pointer and middle fingers?" Steve grinned, laughing at the resulting slap on the arm from Robin.

"No, idiot! My expertise is bad advice. I'll give it to you if you give it to me," Robin grinned.

"First of all, that sounds terrible," Steve pointed out with a chuckle. "Second of all, why would I want bad advice?"

"Hey, advice is advice, Harrington. Take it or leave it. Maybe it'll be good advice in a box that looks like bad advice." Robin shrugged.

"Wh-what…what the fuck does that mean?" Steve asked with furrowed eyebrows, confused.

"You are such a dumbass. You know what? Never mind." Robin laughed out.

"No! I want bad advice!" Steve protested, shaking his head. He found himself entirely forgetting all the happenings of the day. It was only him and his best friend, the girl who would give him shitty girl advice for a long time. Steve liked it that way.

So Robin grinned and nodded her head, let out a laugh that filled the room and took over all the silence that Steve hated so much. After a few more hours of talking, Robin fell asleep, sprawled out in her Scoops Ahoy uniform on Steve's bed beside him and Steve shut off the lamp without any further concern of seeing a monster lurking through his window.

The silence was filled with the sound of Robin's snores, snores that Steve found amusing and comforting rather than irritating. And Steve, despite believing that he wouldn't fall asleep that night, shut his eyes and didn't find himself dreaming of anything but the friends he had who loved him. That was what he had been longing for. Love, but not from Nancy. He didn't need Nancy Wheeler— or any girlfriend for that matter— when he had his friends who would love him more than she ever had and would never treat him like, well, bullshit.

Maybe this was where Steve Harrington felt protected.

#steve harrington #robin stranger things #stranger things #stranger things 3 #theyre best friends and robin is a lesbian

38 notes · View notes

thephantomofthe-internet · 5 years

Text

Not Your Type 2

Steve Harrington x Reader

Read the first part HERE

Word Count: 5,651

Warnings: Swearing

Authors note: You want it, I found a way to do it! Sorry if I came off mean at first about doing a sequel, comments that are purely asking for sequels to fics are really disheartening because I get all excited about a comment and then it just feels like a demand for more with nothing else. But I found a thing I like so here ya are! Thanks to everyone who read part 1, I hope you like part 2 too!!!

Tag List: @moonstruckhargrove @hotstuffhargrove @carolimedanvers @thechickvic @alex--awesome--22 @lilmissperfectlyimperfect @so-not-hotmess @hipsmcgee @agentsinstorybrooke @sunflowercandie @kaliforniacoastalteens @songforhema @spidey-pal

It took him a full twenty-four hours to call. You suffered through the whole sleepover at Robin’s, filled with ‘I told you so’s’ and holding back her hair when she puked from a bad combination of sour belts and malt whiskey. She nearly puked on the lavender trumpet sleeves you’d lovingly built for Juliet herself and you nearly killed her. You’d never bolted out of her house faster and back to your own, only a block away, to check your messages.

Unfortunately, there were none to check. You were insanely disappointed. But you held out hope, you had nowhere to be with the demon child’s parents taking him to the zoo for the day. You spent half the day cooped up in the living room on your couch, switching positions every thirty minutes and watching everything your tiny selection of TV channels, watching soap operas and the news and b movies from the fifties and reruns. You ate sparingly, flipped through every magazine on your coffee table, you found a great dress to recreate once you were done the Juliet dress, you did your makeup and then took it off-anything to fill the time.

And then, at five o’clock on the dot, he called.

Every phone call that had come through all day, you waited at least two rings on before answering. Both your parents worked full time, so you were free all day to do nothing. But with your mother home since four, you were risking her answering, so you pounced on the phone. You were glad that the first call the house had gotten was him, it meant that you could finally ignore the phone.

“Hello?”

“Hey, is this Y/N?” Steve asked. He sounded so nervous and awkward; he probably expected to get an older sibling or parent. He was trying so hard to sound polite. It was a little bit adorable. Just a little.

“Hey, Steve, what’s up?” you asked with a chuckle. The corded phone in the living room only reached so far, so you pulled the recliner’s matching stool to you with your foot and sat down again, resting your elbows on your knees and your head in your hands.

“Hey! Nothing much, how was Robin’s place?” Across town, Steve was fully laid down in bed, clutched his own phone to his ear. It had taken him all day to buck up the courage to make the call-he didn’t want to get your mom or some sibling he hadn’t heard about yet by mistake, that would be embarrassing and weird. He’d slowly given up on trying to be popular, but part of him wanted to live up to others expectations of him.

“About as fun as always. I half-watched Carrie for the fourteenth time and held back her hair after she drank too much and threw up. Party of the century...” you replied with an awkward laugh. You felt weird about making fun of Robin to Steve, but he laughed all the same and you didn’t want to seem totally lame and boring. In actuality, the night was boring and uneventful. You threw handfuls of popcorn at Robin’s younger brother Kyle when he tried to bust in all creepy. You hemmed a dress. You ate dinner with Robin’s mom. Nothing insanely eventful. Even the puking was fairly normal; Robin couldn’t hold her whisky despite her love for the stuff.

“No pillow fights and practising kissing?” Steve asked. He felt gross about it, especially knowing Robin, but he did it anyway. Maybe you’d laugh. Or say something snarky and cool.

You giggled, rolling your eyes “No, not really?” you replied, your tone turning up into a question. You couldn’t tell if he was serious. You hoped it wasn’t.

“No? Oh well...you’ll have to have one with me next time. Way more fun.” Steve propped his head up on his race car themed pillow.

“I generally like to have a guy take me out on a date before I start planning sleepovers with them...” you twisted the coiled cord around your finger, looking down the hall to ensure that your mother wasn’t listening from the kitchen, or worse on the other line getting the full conversation. Luckily, she had her ABBA cassette on blast as she cooked in the kitchen, mouthing the words to dancing queen into her slotted spoon.

“Well, then I’ll have to take you out then, what’re you doing tonight?” Steve asked, checking the time. It was only five fifteen, he had all night to see you.

“Nothing much, where’re you taking me?” you asked. You’d need at least an hour, to wash your hair and change your clothes. And that was just to look less sweaty and awful, to be at the level you’d like to be for a date you’d need at least another hour.

“How about I pick you up at eight and I take you to this diner I know and we get some food. And then we can drive around for a bit, nothing crazy.” Steve offered out, trying to not sound meek and weird. He was not exactly proud of the half-assed plan, but it would work for now.

“I think I can make that work...I’ll see you at eight at 1245 Orchid Lane, alright?” you said, grinning giddily. Steve bid his goodbyes and you hung up, rushing upstairs to take a shower. You scrubbed your hair rigorously, filling your private bathroom with the scent of artificial roses. You wanted the scent to linger in your hair as long as possible, even though you were going to put perfume over top. You knew that perfume never lasted as long as a man’s cologne, so you wanted to make sure you still smelt good. You scrubbed your body in strawberry body wash and scrubbed your face in apricot face scrub. You turned off the water fast and jumped out of the shower, pulling on a massive ‘Hawkins High’ tee shirt.

“Y/N! Robin’s here!” your mother called from downstairs, clearly annoyed by your not telling her that someone was coming over for dinner.

“Send her up!” you replied, pulling your baby pink hairdryer from the lowest drawer of your vanity and plugging it in, blasting your hair with hot air and using a rounded brush to build some waves in your hair.

“Harrington called.” Robin mused with a smirk as she walked into your room, plopping herself on your twin bed.

“He called. He’s taking me out. You got one right, bask in the glow or whatever.” You huffed, talking over the roar of the hairdryer.

“And we’re doing our hair...interesting...” Robin replied, examining her short nails and their chipped black paint.

You turned to her with a scoff “I do my hair for every date. Unless I have no time, I always try to bring a bit of glamour to the equation.” Robin chuckled at that, reaching for the Seventeen magazine on your nightstand. “Well, if they’re going to take me out, they should get a bit of a show, shouldn’t they?”

“Whatever you say...” Robin said “But I’m sure Steve isn’t putting in this much effort.”

Robin was wrong. The second he got off the phone, he rushed to start his own process. He had just washed his hair the day before, but the Steve Harrington hair process took a bit of effort and time. And his hair needed to be damp. So he rushed to get it wet under the bathroom sink, running water into his palms and then his fingers through his hair. He repeated the motion over and over again, until he deemed his hair wet enough. Then went in the Farrah Fawcett spray and the fluffing and preening until it was the right height and shape. He thought about calling Robin for help. He felt completely out of his depths with you: you were still an enigma to him, confusing and strange and hard to discern. One moment you were bitchy and snarky and the next you were funny and supportive. He couldn’t gauge where he sat with you. Sure, you’d agreed to this date with him, you even seemed excited, but that didn’t mean that he was in the clear with you. You could turn on him again. He wanted to be sure that this would go okay. But Robin might not know, or worse she’d tell you and you’d laugh at him. He couldn’t handle that.

He put his focus on choosing something to wear, something that wouldn’t look like it too much effort and yet came off attractive.

Back in your bedroom, you were freaking out. And Robin wasn’t helping. She had taken to pulling clothes from your closet to laugh at. It was like she wanted to stress you out. You tried to keep your focus on the tiny foam tipped applicator brush between your fingers, smudging very light peach eye shadow over your lids. You’d already filled in your eyebrows and put on the faintest amount of blush, to look flushed but not caked with makeup.

Robin sauntered behind you, holding up a teddy bear themed knit sweater with a cheeky grin. “I think this would be perfect for your date with Harrington.” She giggled, bouncing the material up and down behind your head.

You scoffed, rolling your eyes as you tried to apply some mascara to your lashes. “Yeah, that’s a no.” You muttered, jabbing the wand back into its pot and pulling it out to force more product onto the brush, swiping it thoroughly through your lashes till they looked defined enough for your liking. You reached into the cup you’d filled with various lip glosses and lipsticks, digging through to find the cherry flavour you wanted. It was just pink enough to look defined on your face, but it wouldn’t stain the skin if you made out with him. Not that you were planning to make out with him. Just a precaution.

But it wasn’t in the cup. You whipped around to glare at Robin, who’d returned to your closet, examining a costume from the regional theatre’s production of Sweet Charity, which you’d snagged before the theatre snatched up all your hard work to keep in their vaults. “Did you borrow my cherry lip gloss?” you snapped.

Robin turned to you briefly, deadpan “Why on earth would I touch your lip gloss?” she asked, her voice completely monotone. You knew she didn’t touch the stuff. You were just stressed out.

“Damn...it was my favourite one...” you sighed, turning back to the mirror, choosing two lesser glosses and deciding between vanilla and strawberry flavour. “Hey, while you’re in there, can you dig out my acid wash skirt? The one I hemmed too short, not the knee length one my mom bought.” Robin did a mocking salute before pushing through the hangers roughly. You felt like making a crack about her going back into the closet, but decided it wasn’t couth.

“Y/N! Come down if you’re eating! And bring Robin, she’s too skinny!” your mother called from the stairwell. You got up with a sigh, grabbing Robin’s wrist as she threw the skirt on your messy bed. You picked at your dinner nervously, unsure if eating would be beneficial to you or if it would just make you look bloated. Across town, Steve ate cold pizza while standing in the fridge. Neither one of you were exactly focused on eating, simply on killing time before they had to meet one another.

Once you were able to excuse yourself, Robin left you to panic on your own and you went back to getting ready. Time flew by much faster with Robin not looming behind you, you were able to relax again as you dressed and painted your nails. Your tight denim skirt and white imitation silk blouse weren’t exactly comfortable, but you looked good and when you saw Steve’s car pull up to your house, you made your break downstairs. You shoved your feet into your white tennis shoes and threw your purse over your shoulder.

“Be back later! Don’t wait up!” you called, yanking open the door. You waved shyly at Steve, who you found waiting outside his car, leaning on the passenger side door. He looked effortlessly cool and confident; he wasn’t even looking at you. You made your way quickly over to the car, muttering a quick hello which he didn’t return. He did come to your side of the car and opened the door for you. That was the first time he looked at you in your whole interaction and he looked...nervous. It only showed in his eyes, but they completely gave him away.

He rushed to his own side again and climbed in, starting the car fast. You sped off a bit too fast out of your street and off into the night. Steve had the radio on low and The Smiths were playing, softly filling the car. You watched him drive, how he slowly began to find himself with his hands on the steering wheel and his eyes on the road. You watched the grin slide onto his lips and the way it lit up his face, how it warmed his eyes and brought a bit of colour to his paled complexion.

“So, where are you taking me here?” you asked, turning to look at him fully. You crossed your right leg over your left, tapping your foot slightly to the melancholic wailing coming from the stereo.

“I know this absolutely awful diner, just the worst. And I figured, since it’s always empty, we’d go there, since its quiet. And hopefully, if all goes to plan, you won’t let me eat there ever again.” He chuckled and you bit back a grin, nodding slowly. With anyone else, having a boy tell you that they were bringing you to a secluded, empty, crappy diner would make you nervous and annoyed, but Steve was so trustworthy. He wouldn’t pull any tricks on you. So you let him drive you to the outskirts of town to a faded, desolate diner off the turnpike, its spinning sign spelling out ‘Benny’s Burgers’.

“Isn’t this the place where the owner killed himself? In like the dining room?” you asked, furrowing your brow.

“No clue.” Steve replied with a shrug. He put the car in park and climbed out easily. You took a breath and followed behind quickly, not wanting to be left behind in the empty, dark, and far too quiet parking lot. Steve held open the door for you and ushered you in quickly to the desolate diner. The bright, white florescent lights hit you like a wall and you went momentarily blind, squinting under their harsh glow. You hadn’t realized how dark it was outside until they smacked you in the face.

Steve found you a booth and you slid in, still not used to the lights. He looked over you, concerned. “You alright over there?” he asked, leaning his elbows on the table as the ancient waitress brought you menus and cups of coffee.

“Just regaining sight, why is it so bright in here?” you asked, rubbing your eyes rigorously.

“No idea, it’s always like this at night.” Steve shrugged easily, flipping open the menu.

“You spend a lot of time here?” you followed his lead, looking over the standard diner fare at the offer.

“Yeah kind of...” Steve muttered, looking up to meet your eye. You nodded, easing him into the rest of the story obviously on the tip of his tongue. “My dad is a big investor in a chain of hardware stores. He’s always off out of town and my mom goes with him most of the time, so I’m on my own a lot. Big empty house, gets quiet. Sometimes I come here.”

You nodded “I get it, kind of...my dad’s never home either. He’s a truck driver, so he’s always gone, driving something somewhere. My mom has a job here now, but before my sister was born, she used to be one too, that’s how they met.” You explained.

“You have a sister?” Steve asked, surprised by the news. He’d hardly heard of you, much less another one in the family.

“Yeah, she’s like seven years older than me. Lives in Kentucky now with her fiancé and their kid. You probably wouldn’t know her, she didn’t live her very long before she graduated and moved out.” You replied. Steve looked confused, so you added “I didn’t move here till like fourth grade, super late into the year.”

Suddenly, Steve’s face lit up into a look of pure realization “I totally remember you now!” he slapped the table. You raised an eyebrow, cocking your head to the side. Steve pulled his hand off the table, pushing himself into the back of the seat shamefully “From school, I mean...” he added.

“Oh yeah?” you chuckled awkwardly. There were two options here: one was embarrassing, the other flashy and cool. You were really hoping he remembered the cool thing, not the awkward one.

“Yeah! You were in my gym class that year, you totally yakked on the gym floor on like the first day!” he cried with a laugh. You felt your whole face turn beet red and you turned away, utterly embarrassed. You hated that memory; it made you feel so small. You were so nervous that day and the cafeteria had accidently served milk out of date, it was a recipe for disaster.

“Everyone called me puke face for like a year...” you muttered. That shut him up quick. Steve’s laughter died in his throat and he coughed to clear it, rubbing the back of his neck, heat rises up his skin.

“That sucks, man...” he said awkwardly, floundering for something to say to fix the moment. He found what he was looking for quickly. “If it makes you feel better, like a year later I ripped my pants in front of like the whole school at one of the big assemblies, Tommy never let me live it down.”

You smiled sadly “Yeah I remember, I laughed my ass off about your Spider Man undies.” This made Steve blush, which was cute. But a bit of bitter bile came up in the back of your throat and you let the words it carried with it out thoughtlessly. “But mostly I remembered the way your butt was the gossip of the school for the rest of the year. I was puke girl after what I did, but you were just hotter.”

Steve frowned “I mean, that’s not completely true: all the guys gave me the same amount people gave you. And the puke thing wore off after Ricky Scott got stuck on that chain in the woods and had to be rescued by the fire department.” He argued, crossing your arms over your chest.

“The difference is that you had people on your side. You had Carol and Macy and Tina all telling the boys to stop. The right people. Anyone who stood up for me was shamed too, it was too much of a risk. And Ricky was left in that tree by Tommy H and Chris Samuels. Nothing would’ve happened to him if they had stayed to help him.” You fired back quickly.

Steve opened his mouth to speak, but shut it again. What could he argue? That it wasn’t a competition? He was battling against the hurtful memory of yours he’d brought up. He wouldn’t pretend that he didn’t call you that behind your back, that he didn’t laugh when people made fun of you to your face. He was a bad guy, he knew that. He was trying to be better now. And that meant, in that moment, to shut up.

You sighed, releasing the anger. You shouldn’t have brought up any of it anyway. You had let most of it go, that little bit was the last of it that remained. “But nobody really remembers puke girl now, except for you, I guess. I lived it down.” You said offhandedly. Steve nodded, his mind elsewhere, trying to figure out how to fix this.

“But you know who’ll never like her nickname down?” you asked. Steve didn’t respond, but you said it anyway. “Carol.”

“Carol didn’t have a nickname.” Steve muttered, clearly annoyed by the mention of her name. He really didn’t like Carol, not after what she said about Nancy way back when they were just starting out.

“Oh yes she did. Everyone called her period head in sixth grade. She got her period in Mr. Fitz’s history class and after that everyone called her period head, cause her hair matched her jeans.” You giggled at the memory. Karma was sweet: Carol was the worst about your cruel nickname, having her deal with the same embarrassment for a year was sweet revenge.

“Nobody called her that after seventh grade, when Tommy beat up Anthony Parks.” Steve countered, leaning on the table. You’d piqued his interest just a bit. Or maybe it was your smile. You looked so happy in the moment, it was hard to ignore.

“You and your friends might not have, but mine did. After she pushed Amanda Peats down the stairs in freshman year, we all started calling her that in silent protest. Amanda’s boyfriend, Arnold took care of actually going after Carol for it, and getting his ass handed to him by Tommy for it. Whenever we talk about Carol, she’s still period head.” You said a bit too proudly.

Steve nodded, taking a sip of his coffee. Your waitress had returned and you couldn’t even remember what you had ordered as you handed back your menus, your focus solely on Steve and his pensive, thoughtful look. You didn’t think you’d ever seen him look pensive in your life.

“So, wait, what did your friends call me?” he asked, setting the mug down.

You scrunched up your face thoughtfully “Oh different people called you different things...Harrington, the hair, I know the whole soprano section of the Hawkins High choir called you heart stopper Harrington. My friends alternated between Harrington and that douche.” You replied.

Steve nodded “Sounds about right, I knew about the heart stopper thing. Don’t know where it came from.”

“You went to see the choir in junior year.” Steve shook his head, looking at you like you were crazy. “No you did, I remember I was there too, I went to see Robin perform with the band and you were there in the third row. You had detention or something, forced to see the show. You smiled at Tammy Thompson and she about near fainted. That’s where the nickname came from.”

Realization washed over his face “I had to go cause Ms. Seymour gave me detention for skipping drama like four times in a row.” He added quietly before turning to you, wide eyed “How do you remember all this stuff?”

You found yourself blushing again, looking down at your lap “I don’t really know...I guess my life has just happened in parallel to your for awhile and I never noticed that it was weird till now.” You said shyly.

Steve smiled cheekily “I like it.”

You rolled you eyes, trying not to smile back “Well that’s cause you’re an egomaniac.” Steve laughed at that and you watched him for a second. A piece of his puffed up coif had fallen into his eyes and his eyes crinkled up at the edges when he laughed. You wished freak Byers was wandering around with his camera, taking his creeper shots. You wouldn’t have a copy of this moment.

When he finally recovered and your food arrived, Steve looked you over, watching you for signs of discontent. He’d already fucked up once and you finally seemed to be happy again, he didn’t want to ruin it. But he had one moment he wanted to recount with you.

“I remember you for one more thing, you know...” he said softly, building a large pile with his corned beef hash, using the sides of his fork to mix everything together.

“Oh yeah? What’s that?” you asked, leaning your head on your palm, watching him lazily.

“You were in my drama class in junior year. It was the sophomore class, cause I didn’t have the credits for the junior one and I needed a class that I couldn’t fail.” He said confidently.

You nodded slowly “That all?” It wasn’t exactly a deep memory, it hardly had anything to do with you, just a glimpse of your life happening far in the background of his.

Steve swallowed. This was the part that could hurt him, he didn’t know how you’d take it. “No, I remember one more thing. We had to do monologues for our final. I don’t remember most of them, because they were shit. But I remember yours. You did this one from some Shakespeare play and I just remember how...beautiful you liked. Seymour insisted on having everyone stand under the spotlight on the stage in the cafeteria. And you were up there, and your hair looked so pretty under the lights, and you seemed so...confident. You were the only one who seemed confident about anything. You did the best job.” He explained.

You demurred. This was not the amazing moment you wanted to remember. That moment was really insignificant in your life. You preferred backstage work, you move onto crew quickly. Nobody else thought that scene was good, everyone liked Kristy McNeel’s scene better, she did the monologue about Santa killing her mom so naturally it was popular.

But you didn’t say any of that, though.

“You remember that?” you asked softly, almost in a whisper. You suddenly felt very seen and very shy.

“Yeah, it was cool! You did like Romeo and Juliet or something. I didn’t really get what you were saying, but you sounded so dreamy and sweet. And then I actually met you and-”

“And I was a massive bitch, sorry about that...” it was your turn to be embarrassed and awkward. You reached up to run your fingers through the side of your hair, destroying the styling you’d done in one awkward movement.

“It’s cool, I was a douche like all of the time you knew me, it evens out.” Steve shrugged “So wait, what do you think? Did my reviews live up?” he gestured wide towards the empty seating around you.

You chuckled “Well...yeah kind of.” Steve chuckled, shaking his head. “But I can see why you’d want to come here sometimes. It’s peaceful in a way.” The diner wasn’t insanely loud, but it wasn’t dead silent. You could hear the hum of the radio in the kitchen, the distant chattering of your waitress and the cook in the back, the jukebox in the corner looked absolutely desperate to be played. When combined, it wasn’t bad company. Add in the sound of your forks scraping plates and the cups hitting the table and a good book and this place could feel like home.

“Plus it’s open really late.” Steve added thoughtlessly. You raised an eyebrow at him curiously. Steve swallowed hard, his throat turning dry. “I have a bit of insomnia.” It wasn’t a complete lie, he just didn’t give any reasoning behind it. He could rationalize holding back information, it made things easier.

You pursed your lips, nodding your head back and forth “I guess that’s good then, good to have somewhere to go.” You decided. “But you know what this means, right? Now I know your hiding place. Robin has been trying to figure out where you go besides your house, work, the arcade with Henderson, and the occasional party. Now I know, I could sell you out to her in a second.”

“Don’t you dare! That girl has been trying to get me to go to a Chicago concert with her for the past week and a half! Do you know how much Chicago sucks? If she knew where I hid from her I’d never hear the end of it.” Steve pleaded jokingly.

“Oh she’s on you about that too? I won’t go see it with her either! I saw them once, with my mom when I was ten, and it sucked ass. I won’t do it again. I can’t believe she’s bugging you about it now!” you moaned, shaking her head as the image of Robin heckling Steve over the counter at Family Video to come to the dumb concert filled your mind and made you cringe. Poor guy, Robin was persistent about those sorts of things too, he probably never heard the end of it.

“It’s not so bad; if it was like three towns over I’d go see it with her, but it’s right in Carmel, people will see me there.” Steve said.

“Oh, and I thought you were over caring about your rep in this town?” you asked cheekily, swatting his arm.

“A man’s gotta put his foot down somewhere. I choose to not be seen at Chicago concerts with girls who I’m not dating.” Steve answered truthfully. Your waitress brought over your check and cleared your half-eaten food away before either of you could pretend to want to take it home. Steve dropped two twenties on the check before you could even attempt to pull your wallet from your purse.

“So, and correct me if I’m wrong, but you’re saying that you’d be seen at a Chicago concert if the girl was putting out.” You asked with a giggle. The logic was so stupid, you had to laugh.

“Pretty much, you ready to blow this place?” he offered you his hand and you took it happily, letting him pull you up and walk you out of the diner. It was nice; his hands were warm and enveloped yours easily. You found yourself gravitating towards the heat his body gave off. And he smelt good, like good cologne and hairspray and something else, maybe laundry detergent? Whatever it was, it made the smell utterly intoxicating. You wanted to be wrapped up in that smell and that warmth.

Steve drove you home in comfortable silence, your hand held in his and your gazes switching from each other to the road ahead and back again. You felt giddy and drunk. You really liked him. That was weird to think, that you liked Steve. You remembered making fun of him with your friends in school, joking about how dumb his hair is and how stupid he was. But now...now, you saw something different in him. How self-aware he was, how focused he was. He was just a big old dork with money and a cool car and more than an ounce of charm.

You liked that he was a dork. It made him more approachable.

Steve already liked you. He knew that he liked you the second he saw you smile in Burger in a Basket the day before. He didn’t want you to stop smiling. You were too pretty to not smile. And you were smart and funny and you paid attention to people, to him. He wasn’t used to that. Nancy didn’t pay attention to him, especially after Christmas. He always paid attention to the girls he dated, especially Nancy, but you? You matched his attention at every move. It was flattering. But it was also nice to feel as though his effort was matched by yours. It made him feel wanted.

“You know...in that drama class, I had a massive crush on you...” you whispered softly, running your thumb over his knuckles. There were scarred and jagged from some events you weren’t a part of. You wanted to know the stories behind the scars, the fights he’d won or probably lost. Everyone already knew that he lost a fight to Billy Hargrove, expected, and Jonathan Byers, very unexpected and kind of embarrassing.

“Yeah?” Steve muttered back, his expression softening.

“Yeah...I mean you were so cool and charming...it was hard not to like you. But I did fall out of it quick enough. You’re a terrible actor.” You chuckled, brushing a strand of hair out of your hair, grinning up at him. Steve scoffed dramatically, rolling his eyes with a wide smirk.

“No, I’m serious you’re awful! You did that scene from A Streetcar Named Desire, which I’m sure Seymour chose for you since you were never there, and you were awful! You didn’t even know what you were saying!” You cried. Steve shook his head, laughing along with you. He pulled up to your house, parking outside.

The pair of you stared at one another for a moment, the laughter dying out in both your throats and your eyes locking onto one another. You weren’t sure what to do, but you couldn’t look away. You watched as Steve’s eyes flicked to your lips and yours did the same. You couldn’t tell who kissed who first, but you knew that Steve was a really good kisser. Top five at least, maybe even top three. He was firm and slightly aggressive. He kissed you like it was his last moment on earth and he needed to savour it. He set your whole body on fire in a single moment.

Steve broke away first, but you pulled him back fast, pulling him to your chest and letting his hands run up your back and to your hips. The gear shift was in your way, but it was clear that Steve wanted you even closer. You wanted him closer too.

When you broke away again, your chest heaving in breaths, you nodded to Steve with a small smirk “Wanna go to your place?” you asked slowly, drinking him in.

Steve’s eyes darkened and he swallowed hard, nodding hard. He shifted the car into drive and slammed the gas, sending you flying back in your seat and laughing loudly.

This was going to be a fun night.

#stranger things #stranger things 2 #stranger things 3 #stranger things imagine #stranger things headcanon #stranger things au #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve x reader #steve x you #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington imagines #steve harrington au #steve harrington aus #steve harrington headcanon #steve harrington headcanons #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fluff

2K notes · View notes