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steddiealltheway · 2 years

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Part Two of Alone Together :) Christmas Cookies. Part One. AO3 Link.

Steve groans when his timer goes off again, not finished with cutting out the sugar cookies he’s working on. He would be if Nancy and Robin hadn’t taken a “quick” break over fifteen minutes ago. He wipes his hands off on a towel before finding his oven mitts amongst the mess the trio had created.

He opens the oven and pulls out the pan, setting it quickly on the stovetop as he starts to feel the heat through the worn red mitts.

“Shit,” Steve says, looking at the crispy edges of the cookies. He’s going to have to tell Nancy that she was wrong for once, and Steve was right about the time the cookies needed to be in the oven. He glances off towards the hallway they were headed towards and sighs. They won’t be back any time soon.

He leans against the counter to take a break for a moment. He wishes Eddie were here to give him an extra hand baking. Maybe not ... Steve doesn’t trust Eddie with the shapes he would make or the amount of raw cookie dough he would likely consume. At the very least, he would be good company and entertainment though. Unfortunately, Eddie was roped into providing rides for the kids other than Will and Mike who had experienced Argyle’s driving before.

Steve glances at the clock realizing that there is another hour or so until the kids are supposed to be there to decorate the cookies. He stares at the phone in his kitchen and glances down the hall again.

He needs company and help, and there’s no way he wants to walk in on whatever his ex and his best friend are doing during their break.

He sighs and trudges over to the phone quickly dialing the number he memorized but rarely used. The line rings a few times then stops as a voice says, “Munson not murder residence.”

Steve winces involuntarily at the line. He wonders what type of calls Eddie and his uncle get even though they have a new home and number. “Hey, Eddie,” Steve says. He tries to ignore the sigh of relief on the other line.

“Hey, Steve, what’s going on?” Eddie asks sounding slightly nervous.

“The lovebirds ditched me, and I need help with the sugar cookies, or they won’t be done by the time the kids are supposed to be here. And you know how that’ll go over...”

“They’ll lose their shit, yeah. I’ll be there in a few minutes, don’t worry. See you soon!” Eddie says hanging up the phone before Steve can say goodbye. Maybe he’s desperate for company too.

True to his word, a few minutes later, Eddie is ringing the doorbell and making his way inside the Harrington house. Steve feels the overwhelming urge to hug Eddie, but luckily his hands are too messy to do something stupid like that.

“Hey sugar, nice apron,” Eddie says with a big smile, hands in his pockets as he slowly makes his way to Steve.

“It’s perfectly sensible, and I’m getting you one too before you complain about getting flour on your clothes. Also, ‘sugar’?” Steve asks, digging through his drawer for an extra apron, pulling out a white lacy one he’s sure Eddie will protest.

Instead, Eddie immediately tugs it on, tongue shooting out in concentration when he ties it behind his back. When he’s done – after Steve tells him to tie it in the front and spin it around – Eddie answers, “‘Sugar’ like sugar cookies.”

Steve snorts. Of course Eddie would come up with a nickname that is also a pun. “Okay, back to business,” Steve says seriously trying to hide a smile when Eddie gives him a serious look in response, “I’ll roll out the dough as you cut out the shapes using as much dough as you can. No taste testing. After everything we’ve been through, you’re not dying of salmonella. Also, no weird shapes. Just stick to the cookie cutters.”

“What would a weird shape look like?” Eddie asks next to Steve, bumping his elbow against his.

Steve gives Eddie a look. “No dicks on gingerbread men or in general.”

Eddie frowns. “You’re no fun.” Nonetheless, Eddie actually follows his rules well, all while chatting with Steve about random things on his mind, sometimes humming a Christmas tune when a comfortable silence settles between them.

Steve notes how easily they navigate around each other, gentle touches on the waist with a soft warning, and sometimes fingertips lingering for a moment longer than necessary. Not that Steve minds at all.

Before he knows it, the last batch of cookies are going in the oven, as Eddie pulls off his apron and begins to clean up the countertops. He’s well more well behaved than Steve imagined, but really, they haven’t spent too much time alone. The idea of alone time rings through Steve’s head as he unties his apron as well.

Steve makes his way next to Eddie who quickly invades his personal space as he always does. Steve sneaks a glance at Eddie and snorts. A bit of white powder is smeared across his cheek, and Steve can’t help but do the most cliché thing and gently wipe it off Eddie’s face.

“What are you doing?” Eddie breathes out.

“Getting flour off your cheek,” Steve explains, thumb gently sweeping the flour off. His hand lingers.

“Steve…” Eddie says, voice low.

Before Steve realizes what he’s doing, he’s already pulling Eddie in.

“Steve!” Robin’s voice calls out panicked from the hall. Steve jumps back immediately. “Oh my god, we fell asleep and just woke up and noticed what time it is and... Hey, Eddie, what are you doing here?”

Eddie glances towards the clock and yells, “Leaving! Shit, Dustin will be so mad when I’m late!” Eddie presses a quick panicked kiss against Steve’s cheek and runs out of the kitchen.

The front door slams as Nancy makes her way into the kitchen rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. Robin stares at Steve with raised eyebrows. “So, Eddie, huh?”

“No,” Steve firmly states. “And since you two took a lovely nap, I’m going to do the same as you two clean up and get the icing ready. Also, there’s one more batch of cookies in the oven. Enjoy!” Steve yells over his shoulder making his way to the living room couch.

“He’s totally deflecting, right?” Steve hears Robin say to Nancy.

“What did I miss?” Nancy asks thoroughly confused.

Steve drifts off in the living room to hushed whispers coming from the kitchen, and he tries not to perk up every time he hears Eddie’s name whilst trying not to think too hard about that kiss.

-:-:-:-:-:-

“Steve, hey Steve, sugar. Wake up.”

Steve groans and slowly cracks an eye open catching sight of Eddie shaking him awake. This may be the only time Steve has ever enjoyed being woken up. He sits up with a groan and asks, “What time is it?”

Eddie smiles. “It’s only been about half an hour. The kids have already all picked out their cookies, but I thought you wouldn’t mind the extra sleep.”

“You’re a perfect man. Has anyone told you that?” Steve asks until he catches sight of the devious smile growing on Eddie’s face. “I take that back. You’re horrible. A menace really.”

“Someone woke up on the wrong side of the... couch.” Steve groans in response. “Come on, big boy, let’s see what the kids have left us.”

Steve allows Eddie to help him up and might play the ‘just woke up’ card a little too heavily, but he really enjoys the feeling of Eddie wrapping his arm around his waist as he assists him to the kitchen. All of the kids and adults are too busy with their own creations to notice Steve practically clinging to Eddie’s side as they walk over to the counter section left for them.

There’s a baking sheet with what looks to be all the deformed or broken cookies occupying their area. Steve huffs, “After all that, they leave us with this. What a great sentiment.”

Eddie laughs and picks at two gingerbread men – one with the head fallen off and the other with a missing arm and broken leg. He picks up the two and puts on a strangely high-pitched voice for the left cookie missing the head, “Oh, hello there Dusty-bun. I would lose my head if it weren’t for you.”

Steve puts his head in his hands and sighs deeply.

“Get it? And look, this one with the broken leg is Dustin. It’s hilarious.” Eddie says with a laugh, continuing to make the two interact. Steve peeks through his hands and wonders how he ever agreed to this date pact thing.

After they get ahold of some icing, Eddie does a splendid job making the red icing look like blood for all the broken pieces – even for the tree and star shapes. Steve finds himself joining in after giving up on trying to make his look pretty or in any way uniform. But it pays off to have Eddie giggling at whatever messed up creation Steve decides to add to their pile.

Steve glances over at the beautiful cookies Nancy and Robin are creating, then Jonathan and Argyle’s cookies covered in green icing he assumes is in the shape of weed, the three gingerbread men El, Max, and Lucas put together, the blue and yellow cookies Will and Mike make, and Dustin and Suzie’s very... interesting icing explosion creation. He glances back at his and Eddie’s and decides he kind of likes theirs the best, but maybe that’s just because he’s biased.

“So, where are the gingerbread cookies?” Mike asks the room.

“The what?” Steve asks turning around.

“The gingerbread cookies for the gingerbread houses we’re making,” Dustin explains and sighs. “Steve, did you forget to make them?”

Steve holds his hands up. “How was I supposed to remember to make them when no one told me to in the first place?”

All the kids whine and grumble about how this is somehow Steve’s fault, and really he’s about two seconds away from kicking them all out.

“Hey! Steve went out of his way to bake all these cookies for you, and this is how you repay him? By asking for more and getting upset when someone didn’t tell him of these plans in the first place,” Eddie says effectively guilting the kids into apologizing.

Steve sighs when the mood in the room goes down. “When did you want to make these gingerbread houses?”

“Today,” Mike snips back, but one look at Eddie, and he’s mumbling an apology. Eddie really needs to teach Steve how to do that.

Steve pinches his nose then rests his hands on his hips, making a plan. “How about we do it tomorrow?” The kids and even the adults all start agreeing excitedly. “But! You will be coming here first, and helping me make the gingerbread so you can cut out the exact shapes you want for your houses, got it?”

A general groan goes around the kitchen.

“Keep it up and we’ll make you pitch in for the supplies,” Eddie warns them.

The group’s attitude spikes through the roof, unbearably thankful for Steve once again. When their fake gratitude wears off, Steve turns back to Eddie.

“Thank you for the help,” Steve says sincerely leaning slightly against Eddie’s side.

“Anytime. I was thinking maybe we could replicate the Creel house to get back at them... maybe make a little model of my old trailer after it became a gate... Oh! How about a huge house shaped like a bat?” Eddie rambles on, tongue sticking out and eyes flickering around trying to find the worst idea.

Steve laughs and nudges Eddie who stops his rambling to give Steve a blinding smile before squeezing another pipe of red frosting onto their cookies which looks suspiciously dick shaped.

“You never said I couldn’t make a dick out of frosting,” Eddie protests.

Steve’s starting to wonder how he ever would’ve made it through the holidays without him.

Part three.

( Tag list for my lovely @eddiesbabe95 )

#steddie #steddie fanfic #steddie christmas #steve harrington #eddie munson

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hxlyhead-harpies · 4 years

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Fearless (S.H.)

Pairing: Steve Harrington x reader

Summary: Steve tries to make your ruined prom night a little bit better. Based on Fearless by Taylor Swift

Word Count: 2,1k

Warnings: None

A/n: this was previously posted on my old blog @/kissingsucks. I deleted that blog a while ago but I want to repost some of my old work from there. It’s been slightly edited because it kind sucked lmao

You honestly didn’t know why you thought this night would go well. You’d spent hours getting ready; perfectly curling your hair, painstakingly applying makeup, and slipping into your beautiful deep red dress. You and Robin had sat giggling in your room and listening to music, preparing for the night ahead: prom. You hadn’t wanted to go, but Robin insisted. Neither of you had gone to many dances throughout high school and she decided that the two of you needed the ‘experience’. So you begrudgingly agreed and bought a pretty dress from Macy’s at the mall the next town over. After getting ready the two of you sat on your porch, waiting for your ride. Eventually, Steve pulled up in his car and stuck his head out the window.

“Wow, you two clean up nice!” He yelled. You and Robin laughed before hopping in. You called shotgun and Robin climbs into the back, mumbling under her breath. Steve turned up the radio before speeding off towards the school.

•••

Steve pulls up in front of Hawkins High and turns to you and Robin.

“Ok both of you,” he says in a mock authoritative tone. You see Robin roll her eyes and a smile creeps across your face.

“No drinking, no drugs, and you must keep a three-inch distance between you and your dance partners,” he says, listing each rule off on his fingers.

“Ok dad,” Robin replies sarcastically. You chuckle before jumping out of the car.

“We’ll be fine Steve,” you assure him. He sighs before reminding you that he’ll pick you and Robin up at eleven. The two of you wave and he drives off.

“I wish we could’ve convinced him to come,” you say to Robin as the two of you make your way to the front door. Robin shrugs before replying, “he graduated last year he’s probably too embarrassed to show up here”. You nod, knowing that it’s probably the truth. But deep down you wished he would decide to come along. When Robin had suggested attending prom, you had imagined the three of you dancing in the middle of the dance floor. Steve in a gorgeous, well-fitting suit. It was a silly fantasy. A result of an even sillier crush on Steve Harrington. It had developed over the summer. You had worked at Scoops Ahoy along with him and Robin, and there was just something about watching him flirt with girls in the stupid sailor costume that made you blush. You thought you did a pretty good job at hiding it but you were convinced Robin knew. Though Steve still seemed oblivious, and for that you were glad. You didn’t want to destroy your friendship. You and Robin push open the doors to the gym and step inside. The dance was themed “city lights” and the gym was adorned with metallic streamers and colorful lights. You smiled widely, and step in, high hopes for the night ahead.

•••

But here you are, an hour later, sitting alone on the bleachers. Prom had been fun for about fifteen minutes. You and Robin danced to Duran Duran and you were practically squealing with happiness. Then you went to grab a cup of punch. The line was long, it took you nearly five minutes to grab cups for you and Robin. You turned around, only to see her huddled in a corner with none other than Tammy Thompson. She was smiling wide and the two were speaking in hushed whispers. You sighed, realizing you couldn’t interrupt her now. If you did you know she’d kill you later. So you trek up the bleachers and drink both cups of punch. And you sit. And sit. And sit. You were too scared to dance alone, and nobody seemed interested in asking you to dance. Robin and Tammy were still off in their own world and there was no hope of stealing Robin back anytime soon. So you found the closest chaperone and asked to use one of the office phones.

•••

The phone rang once before he picks up.

“Hello?”

“Steve it’s (Y/n),” you reply.

“Hey, is everything ok?” He questions.

“Um…” You’re unsure how to answer. “Can you just come pick me up?” you say. You hear shuffling on the other end of the line.

“Yeah give me a few minutes and I’ll be over to pick you guys up,” he replies.

“It’s just me,” you tell him. “Robin is staying.” The shuffling stops.

“Oh. Well, I’ll be there soon anyway,” he says before the line goes dead. You smile at the chaperone and head outside to wait

•••

A mere fifteen minutes later Steve’s car pulls up. It had begun to rain and your hair had lost the artificial curls you’d spent hours perfecting. You sit on a bench out front, your hands crossed against your chest. As soon as you see him you jump up and practically run to the car. As soon as you got in Steve gives you a questioning look.

“Jeez y/n what happened to you.”

“Nothing Steve, it just got boring,” you reply in a huff. Steve furrows his eyebrows.

“Where’s Robin?” he questions.

“She’s talking to Tammy,” you reply and Steve nods, understanding dawning on him.

“No one else to talk to?” he questions. You shake your head.

“I only danced for like ten minutes it was so stupid,” you reply, letting your annoyance show in your tone. You heard Steve chuckle beside you. You steal a quick glance at him. He’s staring down at the steering wheel in front of him, hair in his eyes. Under the soft glow of the singular street light of the parking lot, he looks almost angelic.

“Well that’s not a real prom experience,” he says turning towards you. You shrug before averting your eyes, hoping he didn’t catch you staring. You sit in comfortable silence for a moment, and you wonder when Steve is going to put the car in drive. But instead, he suddenly turns up the random Janet Jackson song playing on the radio and throws open his door. He steps out into the rain, practically soaking his t-shirt immediately, and runs around to your side of the car. He opens your door and extends his hand to you.

“What are you doing Steve,” you question. He smiles widely before grabbing your hand and pulling you outside.

“I’m giving you the full prom experience,” he answers mischievously. You stand in front of him, feeling the cold rain run down your shoulders. Steve begins dancing badly, wildly jumping around and swinging his arms.

“Steve!” you yell, scanning the parking lot to make sure no one can see you.

“Come on Y/n! Have some fun!” he yells back at you. You hug your arms close to your chest. Not quite sure what to do. Steve runs over and grabs your hands, forcing you to jump along to the music with him. You giggle which causes Steve’s smile to widen. Eventually, the two of you are drenched, laughing wildly, and clumsily dancing with each other. The pavement seems to glow under the streetlight and the thunder rolling in the background makes the moment feel magical. You stop for a moment to catch your breath and you grasp Steve’s hands. He holds them to his chest. Staring at you, smiling and breathing heavy. His hair is wet and matted against his forehead, his cheeks are a deep rosy red, most likely from the cold, and he has never looked so beautiful. Suddenly the radio crackles, a commercial break interrupting the music. And the moment is broken. Steve drops your hands and straightens quickly. You blink, the magic you felt only moments earlier dissipating.

“I should uh, get you home,” Steve says, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. You nod, and head for the car. Your soaked dress squishes as you lower yourself into your seat and you make a face. You hear Steve chuckle slightly beside you.

He puts the car in drive and heads off towards your house.

He drives along the road, the radio quietly playing, filling the silent air. You look at him, trying not to be too obvious. He runs his hands through his wet hair and you feel a pull in your gut; yearning. You had been kidding yourself. It wasn’t simply a silly little crush. It was a butterflies explode in your chest kind of crush. A sweaty palms and averting eyes kind of crush. A type of crush that is always in your mind, occupying your dreams and thoughts. The kind of crush that never gives you a moment to breathe. The kind of crush you’d dance in a storm with, ruining your best dress, just for the chance to be close to them. And as you’re lost in your thoughts, Steve looks over to you in the passenger's seat and gives you a small smile. You’re frozen, unable to look away from his deep brown eyes. And for a moment he looks like he wants to say something but then the light turns green and he turns back to the road. You look away, your cheeks burning, and stare at your hands.

A few minutes later, Steve pulls into your driveway.

“Well here we are,” Steve says, staring up at your house. You turn slightly towards him.

“Thanks for the ride. Sorry I made you leave early to get me,” you say quietly.

“Hey don’t worry about it. I’ll always be around to give you a ride if you need it,” he says, turning towards you. You glance at the clock on his dashboard and curse under your breath. Steve furrows his brows and glances at the clock himself. It is ten forty-five.

“I should go inside, you probably have to pick up Robin now,” you mumble, fumbling with the door handle.

“Here I’ll walk you up,” Steve says, unbuckling his seat belt.

The two of you walk up the walkway towards your front door. The silence that hangs between you is awkward, something that has never happened with you and Steve before. You arrive at your door and you dig in your small clutch for your keys. You find them and put your key in the lock before turning to Steve.

“Thanks for picking me up early,” you say to him. He shrugs, his hands in his pockets.

“Yeah no problem,” he says, kicking a rock off your porch. You start to turn towards the door but stop yourself.

“And thanks for the mini dance party back at school. You stopped my night from totally sucking,” you say with a slight laugh. Steve smiles slightly, looking at the ground.

“Yeah of course, glad I could help,” he replies. You smile, waiting to see if he’ll say more but he doesn’t. For a fleeting moment, you feel brave and you lean over and give Steve a quick peck on the cheek. He jumps back, eyebrows furrowed.

“(Y/n) I…” He looks at you, confusion clearly written on his face. You cringe before turning to escape into your house. You wonder how you could’ve been so stupid, thinking he might’ve felt the same way. But before you can step into your house a hand grabs your arm and pulls you back. You turn and lock eyes with Steve. His eyes are soft but determined and his face is tense. Before you have a moment to think his lips crash into yours. For a moment the kiss is awkward, teeth knocking into each other. But then the two of you find a rhythm and it’s flawless. You pull away, gasping for air. Steve smiles down at you, his eyes blown, a soft smile gracing his face. For a moment the two of you stare at each other, the air practically buzzing. Steve leans down and kisses your forehead before pulling away.

“Well I guess I better go pick up Robin,” he says, chuckling.

“Yeah she‘ll kill you if you're late,” you say breathlessly. Steve squeezes your hand before turning and heading back to his car. You stand at your door and watch him climb into his seat. Before he drives away he sticks his head out the window.

“I forgot to tell you earlier, but you look beautiful!” he yells to you. You giggle, feeling like a schoolgirl with her first crush before thanking him. He pulls out of your driveway and drives off. You finally open up your front door and collapse against the door frame. And you sit and wonder why you thought this night was going to go horribly. Because it turned out to be the best night of your life.

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #stranger things #joe keery #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington imagine

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imyoursandthatsitwhatever · 4 years

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only wanna dance with you

It all started with Patrick Swayze.

Steve, Robin, and Billy navigate the summer together: A story in three parts.

for @awickedplacethisis, who inspires me

part i

love isn’t always magic sometimes it’s just melting where it’s black and blue where it hurts the most -andrea gibson

The thing is, the first time Robin comes over that first summer, Steve doesn’t really know how to act. Like, he knows they almost died together, and he knows she genuinely gives a shit about him, but they don’t actually know each other that well yet. Somehow, learning Robin’s deepest, darkest secret feels like he’s barely even scratched the surface.

So, as usual, he tones it down. When he wants to reach out, get close, he stays a respectful distance. He isn’t clingy, okay. Not anymore. He’s trying to be better. Normal. Robin’s the first friend he’s had over to his house who’s older than fourteen and he doesn’t want to fuck this up by being weird.

He sits a respectful distance away from her on the couch. He puts a pillow between them when they lie on his bed getting high. He doesn’t even hug her goodbye when she leaves. He doesn’t do any of those things because he doesn’t even know if Robin likes being touched. And he’s trying to be better. More considerate. It’s a little harder than he thought it’d be, ‘cause he’s an affectionate person, but he thinks it’s for a good cause.

It’s just started to rain when he hears the knock on the door. He stumbles out of bed, glancing at the red letters blinking on the clock. 12:53. Oh Jesus, something’s wrong.

Robin’s on the other side of the door. Her eyes are wet and red-rimmed and she’s hugging herself around the middle, hunched over like she has a really bad stomach ache. She’s reaching for him before he even knows what’s happening, arms wrapping around his neck, body sagging, and she’s holding him like he’s the answer to every problem she’s ever had.

“Hey,” he whispers, gently weaving his fingers through her hair. It’s soft and smells like strawberries. “I’ve got you.”

And God, he’s wanted this for so long. Not only to be touched, but to be needed. And yeah, he and Robin are just friends, and he’s glad they stayed that way. Because it means things are never going to get complicated. He needs that in his life—Something easy. Something that makes sense without having to stare at it for two hours like a math problem. Robin makes sense to him. He trusts her. And maybe, since she’s here, that means she trusts him too.

He tucks his hands under Robin’s thighs and lifts her up, her legs wrapping around him immediately as he walks her over to the couch. Carrying her is easy, and suddenly he remembers when he used to do this with girls at parties to try to make himself look cool, and laughs at himself. He used to care so fucking much about what everyone thought. Now, he only cares about who the hell made the coolest girl he knows so fucking sad.

When he sits on the couch, she curls up into his lap, her head tucked right under his chin. He can feel her breath tickling his collarbone as he pulls his arms tighter around her.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” he asks, his words muffled by her ponytail.

“Fuck no,” she murmurs, her voice trembling. He feels something wet hit his chest and he realizes this is the first time he’s ever seen Robin really cry. It’s unsettling and horrible and he just wants to make it better.

“Okay,” he answers simply, reaching for the TV remote. He finds The Golden Girls and leaves it on, because he remembers that Robin hasn’t stopped talking about this show since it premiered. Betty White is a fucking icon, dingus. You’ll get it when you watch it.

He feels a small laugh vibrate against his chest and he smiles. Maybe he’s doing something right. He takes a chance and starts rubbing little circles into the back of her neck—she sighs contentedly, nuzzling up against him like a cat.

It’s then that Steve realizes that maybe Robin was waiting on him, too. Maybe she was trying to feel him out, see what his boundaries were. And then got to a point where she didn’t care enough to pretend anymore.

She’s always been braver than he ever was, anyway. And that might be why this means so much now—That when she couldn’t be brave anymore, when she had to break down, she came to him. She came to Steve.

He hears a soft intake of breath followed by a quiet snore and laughs a little. After he mutes the TV he carefully undoes her shoe laces, slipping her Converse off and setting them down on the coffee table. His mom would kill him if she knew but as usual, she isn’t around to make a fuss. He reaches behind him for the down blanket resting on the back of the couch and covers them both, shifting backwards a little so he can lie down properly.

Robin is warm against him as Steve closes his eyes to sleep, and it isn’t weird, it just feels nice. It feels nice to hold someone. Even if that someone is currently drooling on his shirt a little bit.

He’ll give her shit about it tomorrow.

Maybe.

>>Read the rest on AO3<<

part ii

every time you smoke a cigarette i want to rip it from your mouth i don’t know how to say this except that it breaks my heart to think that anything could take you from me even a moment before it has to

-fortesa latifi

After that night, things are easy between them—effortless, really. Steve could lay his head down in Robin’s lap and she would know that he wants her to play with his hair. She tugs at it, scratches her fingernails against his scalp, even braids it sometimes, and he’s never felt more at home in his own body. It’s his favorite summer to date.

Robin graduates top of her class the next year. Steve sits in the audience and might have cried a little bit when he heard her speech, but no one can prove that. Billy wasn’t there. Steve had heard from Max that he’d started a job at a local mechanic, after getting his diploma by taking the few classes he’d needed from the school in the next town over. Billy stops by Family Video every once in a while to rent a movie, and they’d gone out to the quarry to smoke together one night, but other than that, Steve doesn’t see much of him.

August comes too fucking fast and Robin heads off to Indiana State on a full ride. Steve helps her pack her shit up, even drives with her down there to help her move in. When he drives away, leaving her waving at him on the sidewalk, his heart crawls up to his throat and stays there the whole drive home.

A year passes before it feels like he can even blink. The kids are halfway through high school and they’re busy with projects and girlfriends and other teenage bullshit, so he sees a lot less of them. Dustin and Suzie break up in April, so for a while, Steve keeps himself busy helping Dustin nurse his broken heart, mostly with the help of gummy worms and lots of pudding. Then Dustin meets a cute girl in Chemistry class, of all places, and Steve is left alone again.

When Robin comes back for summer vacation, she drags Steve to the premiere of Dirty Dancing, and when they get home, Robin demands that he lift her up like Swayze. He tries, he really does, but he’s not exactly ready when she jumps and they both end up a mess of limbs on the floor, carrying a couple bruises into the next week as battle scars. She laughs and swats at him, and he thinks he might be bleeding somewhere, but it’s okay. It’s fun. It’s easy, with Robin.

He slips up later that night, when they’re getting high out by the pool. They’ve got two chairs pulled together, their legs tangled together, when he breathes the tangy smoke into the air and whispers, “I think… I have a thing for Billy.”

Billy could lift Robin like Swayze. Hell, Billy could lift Steve like that. Could lower him down, real slow, faces close enough to touch—Jesus. His mouth is watering and his dick is kicking in his jeans just from the thought.

“I think you do, too,” Robin replies, giggling, as she takes the blunt from between Steve’s fingertips and sucks on it.

He sits up in surprise, nearly knocking them both over. “Were you ever going to tell me?” Steve asks incredulously. He’s a little high, so he’s seeing two Robins right now, and he doesn’t know which one to glare at.

“Oh my God, Steve. I didn’t know I had to inform you who you have a crush on.” Robin sighs dramatically and passes the blunt back to him. “You’re like a little baby deer. So helpless.”

Steve groans and collapses back against the pool chair.

“How did you know I like him?” Steve asks, finishing off the blunt and flicking the roach somewhere near the pool’s edge.

“Well, first of all, you visited him in the hospital, like, every day,” she begins matter-of-factly.

Steve’s mouth tastes like cotton when he answers, “I was driving Max there, Robin. I was being a good Samaritan.”

“Oh, and were you being a good Samaritan when you spent nights there? Nights, as in plural, as in more than once?”

She has a point. Who is he kidding? Robin always has a point.

“He was alone, you know? And he saved us. And I wanted…” I wanted him to know I was there for him. That I could keep being there. If he wanted.

“Steve.” Her voice is gentle, soft in that way that wraps around him and makes him feel like nothing could ever hurt him again. She’s holding his hand. Her black nail polish is chipped, it’s always fucking chipping, he wonders why she even bothers with it. But then he remembers that Robin doesn’t expect things to be perfect, or even want them to be. She likes things just how they are. She likes Steve just how he is.

He finally looks up at her, and she’s grinning at him. “Steve, I’m going to tell you a story, okay? All you have to do is listen.” Her voice is a little wobbly from the weed, but even while high, Robin’s a good storyteller. He lies back against the chair and folds his arms over his chest, waiting patiently.

“Do you remember that day last summer, when you had that really bad cold and you couldn’t make it into work?” Robin asks. Steve looks up at the stars, trying to map out some of the constellations Dustin had showed him, as he nods.

“Well, Billy stopped in that day. Thursday afternoon. Like he always does.” Steve wonders why she’s putting such heavy emphasis on the word. He knows Billy always stops by Thursday afternoons. It’s why Thursdays are his favorite day to work. Billy gets off work early from the garage on Thursdays, Steve doesn’t really know why, but he comes in with his coveralls tied around his waist and smelling like grease and it’s always the best part of Steve’s day, by a long shot.

“He came up to the counter, glanced around, and asked if I was working alone today. I said you had abandoned me in favor of being ill. And do you know what he did?”

“No. What?” Steve asks breathlessly. What could Billy have done that day in Family Video that warranted an entire fucking story about it?

“He walked out of the store, Steve. He didn’t even rent a movie. Just walked out. Do you know what that tells me, dingus?”

God, he’s so high right now. Her voice sounds far away and his heart is beating like a fucking drum in his ears. “No, I don’t,” he answers honestly, ‘cause he just really needs her to give him the answer. He can’t guess when it comes to Billy. With Billy, it has to be a sure bet.

“Billy doesn’t come to Family Video every Thursday to rent movies, Steve,” Robin says softly, tapping her thumb against his hand, “He comes to see you.”

Steve lets her words hang in the air for a second, imagines them attaching themselves to the stars up above and spelling it out for him.

He comes to see you.

He’s out of his chair before he even knows what he’s doing, swaying a little. Robin scrambles up to tug him back down before he falls face-first into the pool.

“Oh my God,” Steve says as he collapses back onto the chair, putting his face in his hands, “How could you let me be such a goddamn idiot? Is it fun, watching me being oblivious?”

“I mean, I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t a little fun,” Robin jokes, nudging her shoulder against his. “I knew you needed time to figure it out. You can’t rush these things.”

“Yeah, but Billy probably feels like shit because he’s been dropping hints since like, day fucking one and I didn’t notice, Robin.”

It’s like sand has been scrubbed from his eyes and he can finally see. He’d stayed in the hospital that first night because Billy had asked him to. Billy had grabbed his hand as he stood up, looking at him frantically, still hooked up to that goddamn breathing machine because his lungs were too fucking weak. Steve had just thought he’d wanted someone to keep him company. His big, dumb, ugly brain hadn’t thought for even a second Billy wanted him, specifically.

And then, the way Billy had looked at him when he finally got that awful tube out of his throat. How he’d smiled and asked hoarsely, “Am I dreamin’, or is that you, Harrington?” Like he’d been waiting to say it. Like he’d spent weeks picking out the perfect fucking line.

It all comes back to him in startling clarity, now. How he’d wake up in the morning, in that really terrible plastic chair, to Billy staring at him. How Billy would suddenly turn his head and pretend to look out the window. How the nurse greeted Steve that morning he brought bagels—“Oh, you must be Steve,”—like Billy had been talking about him. How Billy had asked Steve, not Max, to check his chest when he thought he’d ripped open a stitch.

And the Thursday afternoons. Steve was so dense he didn’t even realize Billy was coming to rent a video every Thursday afternoon because he wanted to see him. And, now that he’s thinking about it, Billy probably gets off at 2:00 every Thursday at the garage because Steve gets off at 3:00 on Thursdays. And that’s probably something that Billy fucking knows, ‘cause Steve is pretty sure that he works later nights at the garage the rest of the week. Thursday’s probably the only day he can free up to swing by.

“Robin, I have to go see Billy. Like, now,” Steve says, getting to his feet, “But first, I have to get… uh, un-high. How do I get un-high?”

He feels a warm hand on his back, leading him towards the house. “You need water, snacks, and a cold shower,” Robin replies confidently, “Let’s go, dingus.”

The shower is a brilliant idea, really, because Robin turns the dial just cold enough to shock him back into reality, but not enough to make him hypothermic. (However, it’s a close thing.)

He eats the haphazard sandwich she shoves in his face and chugs a glass of water while she towel dries his hair for him.

“How long have we been married?” Steve asks in amusement as she grabs the blow dryer.

“17 years. And you forgot our last anniversary. Dick.” She shoves his head down and starts violently blow-drying, ignoring his protests as he tries to choke down the last piece of sandwich in his mouth.

She leaves him to style his hair and skips off to his bedroom, muttering something about picking out an outfit for him. She returns with a pair of dark wash jeans and an emerald green sweater.

“I haven’t worn those jeans in years, I don’t even know if they still fit—”

“Okay, Steve, newsflash: Billy is very into your ass. I’ve seen him look at it. He is not a shy guy. These jeans are going to be tight on your ass and Billy’s mind will be properly blown. And before you ask about the sweater, the color green just so happens to go very well with the color brown, and from the many times I’ve watched Billy gaze longingly into them, I can safely assume he is also a fan of your big, dumb, Bambi eyes. Any further questions?”

Steve shakes his head, eyes wide, and slips the jeans over his boxers. They fit like a glove. Especially over his ass.

“Are you a genie?” he asks, staring at Robin suspiciously as he tugs the sweater over his head. It’s really fucking soft. He hopes Billy will want to put his hands on him when he sees it.

“Not a genie. Just call me your fairy godmother,” Robin sing-songs as she throws his car keys at him, watching him almost spectacularly fail to catch them, “I have a feeling you’re not gonna be back, so you can drop me off at my place on the way there.”

“What do you mean I’m not gonna be back?” Steve asks, horrified, before the joke clicks. “Oh,” he says softly as she digs through the bathroom cabinets, finding a bottle of cologne and spritzing him a couple times.

“You have his new address, right?” Robin asks as they head outside towards his car.

“Yeah, I remember where it is. I dropped him off there once.” After we smoked together out at the quarry all night. I thought about kissing him before he climbed out of the car, but I didn’t because he was too fucking beautiful and I was too fucking scared.

Robin gives him a thumbs up from her living room window after he makes sure she gets inside, and then the lights are switched off in the house and he’s alone again, pulling away from the curb and racing down the street towards Billy’s apartment.

He feels an eerie sense of calm as the turn draws closer, even though he knows he should be shaking out of his skin right about now. Somewhere between nights at the hospital and Thursday afternoons, Billy had become important. And when someone’s important to you, you’re supposed to tell them. Friends don’t lie.

The street sign comes into view and he turns the wheel easily. His hands aren’t shaking. He isn’t nervous. He actually feels better than he has in a long time, because he’s pretty sure Billy has been waiting for Steve to show up at his door.

The night is quiet save for the occasional chirp of a cricket as he climbs out of the car, looking up at the apartment complex. Billy’s on the ground floor, in the back of the building, and his feet are taking him there and before he really even registers what he’s doing, he’s knocking on the door.

There’s a muffled curse inside as something falls to the ground, and then the door is being wrenched open and Billy is standing there, eyes wild and body coiled up tight. His expression immediately softens when he sees Steve, and the frying pan that was clenched in his hand falls to the floor for what appears to be the second time, judging from the sound. Steve stares at it for a second before clearing his throat.

“Hey,” he says, mustering up a smile because Billy is still kind of staring at him like he’s trying to figure out if Steve is real. He’s got a dish towel thrown over his shoulder, his white tank top stained with some sort of orange sauce, and Steve belatedly realizes he’s interrupted Billy making dinner.

“Hey,” Billy answers back, looking at Steve warily. His hand is still outstretched where it had been holding the pan, and he clenches it back into a fist. “What are you—”

“I’ve recently been informed that I’m an idiot. I mean, I knew that before, but I’ve reached like, a pretty incredible level of stupid at this point,” Steve starts, rubbing the back of his neck self-consciously.

Billy’s eyebrows fly up in surprise. “You’re not—”

“No, I really am. I’m really stupid, Billy. It took me getting high tonight to figure it out, because I was too scared to admit it before. And I’m sorry for all the time I’ve wasted.”

Steve lets out a shuddering breath; he watches Billy’s brow furrowing in confusion and he imagines reaching out to smooth it with his thumb.

“I think you’ve been trying to tell me something, and I wasn’t getting it,” Steve starts softly, stepping closer to the doorway. Billy looks a little taken aback, but he doesn’t move. “See, I always looked forward to my Thursday afternoon shifts ‘cause I knew you’d be stopping by. It never occurred to me that you might have a different reason for coming to the store other than, you know, renting movies. I thought you just really liked Rocky, I guess?” Steve laughs quietly, glancing down at the ground. He and Billy are inches apart and he swears he can hear Billy’s heartbeat.

“I was thinking tonight, after I dropped Robin on the floor, that you could totally lift me up like Patrick Swayze does and I just, really like that about you.” Steve sighs, tearing his gaze from the floor to glance at Billy, his blue eyes sparkling with amusement as he nods for Steve to go on, “I really like a lot of things about you. And I need you to know that I thought about kissing you that night after the quarry, and I thought about kissing you before that too, and you’re honestly the most beautiful thing I’ve ever fucking seen and I didn’t know how someone like you would ever want to be with me, and I know I’ve been stupid, but I—”

He feels his sweater being tugged forward, and then Billy’s lips are moving softly against his, and Steve breathes a sigh of relief into Billy’s mouth as he winds his arms around Billy’s neck.

Billy feels so fucking good, from the hard planes of his abs pressing against Steve’s torso to the needy way he licks into Steve’s mouth as he walks them backwards. Steve feels his back hit soft cushions and Billy lifts his arms above his head, holding him by the wrists, as he sucks on Steve’s bottom lip. He feels Billy move against him, the fabric of his sweatpants doing nothing to hide how hard he is, his cock brushing against Steve’s thigh and sending a burst of heat straight down to his groin. Billy slots his knee between Steve’s legs, pushing up against him, and Steve groans into his mouth and frees his hands from Billy’s grip, tugging at Billy’s curls to pull him closer.

“You’re not,” Billy breathes between kisses, “Stupid,” his tongue licking sweetly across Steve’s cupid’s bow, “You just can’t take a hint.”

Steve laughs and Billy swallows it down, smiling against Steve’s lips as he slips his hand under the sweater to run his fingers over Steve’s chest.

“This sweater is real fuckin’ nice, pretty boy,” he murmurs, running his free hand down the soft fabric, “But I have to say, your jeans are really doing it for me.” His hand dips lower to palm at Steve’s ass through the denim and Steve keens, ‘cause Billy’s built like a brick shithouse and has the fucking hands to match.

He swears he can hear Robin laughing all the way across town.

“Fuck, Billy,” Steve groans as Billy scrapes his teeth along the side of his neck, wriggling underneath him as Billy sucks a mark into the sensitive skin there.

“What’d you say before, about me bein’ like Swayze?” Billy murmurs, nuzzling his way up Steve’s neck and placing a chaste kiss against the shell of his ear.

“We watched Dirty Dancing, and Robin wanted to do the move, you know, where he lifts her up? And I couldn’t catch her when she jumped, I fuckin’ dropped her on the floor and went right down with her,” Steve giggles, fisting his hands into the worn fabric of Billy’s tank top, “But I was thinking that you could lift me up like that, no problem.”

Billy stares at him for a second, a mischievous smile playing on his lips before he’s suddenly hopping off of the couch.

“All right, pretty boy, let’s do it.” Steve takes a moment to admire the rippling muscle of Billy’s arms as he pulls him up from the sofa, all the work Billy’s put in since he’d almost fucking died right in front of Steve’s eyes two years ago, before Billy’s pushing him to the other side of the living room. Steve watches in amusement as Billy stretches and cracks his neck back and forth, before crouching down and holding his arms out.

Steve takes a moment to carefully push the furniture back towards the wall, and hesitantly slips off his shoes.

“I can lift you, no problem, but you’re gonna need to use your core to actually hold yourself up like she does,” Billy instructs, as if he’s teaching a fucking yoga class. Steve laughs and rolls up the sleeves of his sweater, bouncing lightly on his feet.

“Yeah, yeah. Make sure you plant your fucking feet,” Steve replies haughtily before he takes off running, leaping into the air and—

And Billy catches him, like it’s nothing. His legs are kicked out behind him, his back curved up towards the ceiling, and his arms are out like he’s fucking flying. Billy gives him a twirl for good measure, before gently lowering Steve down, achingly slow, their bodies sliding together deliciously until they’re face to face. Steve wraps his arms around Billy’s neck and they spend the next few minutes kissing soft and slow, Billy still holding him up off the ground like he’s weightless.

Steve giggles as Billy starts walking him backwards towards what he assumes is Billy’s bedroom door, scooting up to wrap his legs snugly around Billy’s waist as he carries him across the kitchen.

“You takin’ me to your bedroom, Johnny?” Steve asks on a breathy sigh as Billy forcefully kicks the door open.

“Would you rather me fuck you in the corner, Baby? Cause you know, nobody—”

“Oh my God, just shut up and kiss me.”

part iii

you do not have to be good. you do not have to walk on your knees for a hundred miles through the desert, repenting. you only have to let the soft animal of your body love what it loves.

-mary oliver

Steve insists Billy meet Robin the next week, because she has to go back to school soon, and he has to politely remind Steve that he has already met Buckley, many times, at your dumb fucking video store, Steve.

It’s not the same, Billy, we weren’t dating then, Steve argues, so Billy rolls his eyes fondly, kisses Steve and whispers, You know I’ll do whatever you want, baby.

So that’s how they end up at Steve’s place, sprawled out on the couch watching The Breakfast Club, because it’s the only movie they all seem to agree on.

Billy had been given a previous heads-up that Robin and Steve were usually kinda touchy with each other, and Steve had told him like he’d be threatened somehow. It was real fuckin’ cute, is what it was.

He likes Buckley, probably more than he’s ever liked a girl in his damn life. She’s smart as a whip and she’s got a hell of a lot of fire in her, which Billy can appreciate. But most of all, he knows she played a part in getting Steve to his front door that night. And that she picked out those jeans. God, those fucking jeans. So, she’s more than okay in his book. If she wants to cuddle up to Steve a little bit, she’s earned it as far as he’s concerned.

Plus, he clocked it a long time ago that she likes girls. That helps, too.

Robin and Steve are so damn natural with each other, the way they sprawl out on the couch together, legs all tangled up. Billy tries to think of a friend who he felt that comfortable with, and comes up empty. Heather, maybe. It was always real easy to work with her at the pool—when no one was looking, she’d make crazy faces at him up on the lifeguard stand to try to make him laugh. His heart starts to ache a little bit, wondering if he could have had a real friend in her. Wondering what her life would have been if it hadn’t been cut short.

Steve seems to notice his stormy expression and leans over to brush a kiss against his ear. “You okay?” he asks, his arm tightening around Billy’s waist. Billy smiles back at him and leans in to kiss him real soft and slow. Robin makes a gagging sound from nearby.

“I’m all right. Just got a little in my mind is all,” Billy murmurs, resting his forehead gently against Steve’s. Steve nods like he understands, a fond smile tugging at his lips.

“So, Hargrove,” Robin begins, reaching over to poke at Billy’s leg with a socked foot. “I hear you can give Swayze a run for his money.”

Billy throws his head back and laughs, grabbing her foot and giving it a vicious tickle before she manages to pull it away, screeching.

“You bet your ass, Buckley. You want me to prove it? Heard good ol’ Stevie dropped you on your ass when he tried.”

“That he did,” agrees Robin sagely, Steve sputtering in indignation as she hops from the couch. “Let’s get to it, then.”

“All right, girlie, let’s see what you got,” Billy replies smoothly, getting up to push the coffee table towards the fireplace. He watches Steve settle in comfortably against the couch cushions, ready for the show to begin. Billy rolls his sleeves up and stretches his neck and arms out real quick, while Robin takes some practice jumps across the room.

He looks over at her, her eyes sparkling with mischief, and sees this for what it is: An offering. We can be friends, Hargrove. Just don’t drop me on my ass.

Billy gestures at Robin with his hand, his body poised and ready—and without hesitation, she takes off towards him from the other end of the living room. He has only seconds to marvel at her confidence in him before she’s flying through the fucking air, soaring right above his head, and he has to step back a few paces because she’s gone too fucking far, but by some God-given miracle he still catches her, hoisting her up above his head and whooping in relief.

She’s laughing as he twirls her around, which quickly devolves into screeching when he drops her and swiftly catches her in his arms.

“Oh my God,” she exclaims, draping a hand over her eyes dramatically as she hangs loosely in his hold, “I’m swooning, Hargrove. Now put me down.”

Billy does as he’s told, depositing her carefully onto the ground, before she’s running full tilt past Steve and up the stairs.

“Steve, I’m borrowing your mom’s video camera. Hargrove, you better get ready to do that again!” she screams from the top of the stairs before she disappears down the hall.

Steve laughs and pulls Billy down onto the couch with him, pressing him gently into the cushions. “That was pretty sexy,” Steve breathes, nuzzling against Billy’s cheek.

“Only wanna dance with you, baby,” Billy replies, feeling like his heart’s about to burst through his ribcage as Steve’s brown eyes go all soft.

“Jesus Christ, I leave you two for ten seconds and you’re already horizontal,” comes Robin’s voice from behind the couch. Steve clambers off of Billy, and Billy wants to kiss every inch of the blush spreading across his face and down to his chest.

“You’re on film duty,” Robin announces, handing Steve the video camera once she gets it all queued up. He starts rolling and Billy shoots some finger guns his way while Robin makes a big show of stretching.

Steve shoots him a tender smile from behind the camera, and Billy feels a light blush burning its way across his cheeks—and worst of all, it’s been caught on film.

But as he glances over at Robin, who’s grinning at him widely as she rocks back and forth on her feet, ready to run at him again, he thinks he might want to watch this back again someday.

Because somehow, without even asking for it, without even daring to hope, he finally has everything he’s ever wanted. Steve Harrington, looking at him like he’s something worth having, worth keeping. And Robin Buckley, the first real friend he’s ever had.

And if it took Patrick Swayze to get him here, well—he might just owe the guy a big fucking thank you.

#harringrove #my fics #harringrove fanfiction #Harringrove fics #steve x billy fics

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abundanceofsoph · 4 years

Text

SkyFire 3: Chapter 5

Aurora in Vogue & saying goodbye to Robin: May-June 2017

Word count: 3.2k

SkyFire 3 MASTERLIST

>Instagram posts - vogue + robin

Stepping into the elevator of Avengers tower, Aurora felt all the stress of the past month leave her body. LA was always fun to visit, but it never felt like home the way NYC or London did and knowing she would be with her parents shortly, added to the feeling of comfort. After weeks of anxiety over the album being released, the pressure of performing again and the constant looming threat of Robins health, the thought of getting a hug from Steve was enough to bring tears to her eyes. The moment she stepped out into the penthouse, Steve and Tony were waiting for her and she gladly fell into Steve’s arms, immediately feeling Tony step behind her, his chest pressed against her back and sandwiching her in the middle of a family cuddle. She was grateful to be spending a week back home in the tower and excited for the photo shoot for Vogue in a few days’ time, however she couldn’t seem to avoid the anxious feeling in her gut whenever she thought of Harry.

She knew how deeply affected he was by his stepfather's continued deterioration and she wished that she had just cancelled the photo shoot and gone straight to Manchester with him to offer her support. Not only did she want to be there for her husband, but she also wanted to make the most of the short time she herself had left with Robin. She was desperately searching for a silver lining or really anything positive to hold on to and so far, all she had come up with was that she was grateful that they all had the opportunity to say goodbye to Robin. Her own mother’s passing had been so sudden and tragic, so she hoped that the time they had to spend with him and say farewell would help them process their grief just a little bit easier when the time finally came.

xXx

After spending a few days with her fathers, Aurora met with the photographer, designers and the rest of the team behind her photo shoot for her article in Vogue magazine. She wasn’t going to be on the cover of the magazine, instead only featuring in an article a few pages in and as such the photo shoot was not the grand spectacle you would assume it would be when Vogue was involved. Some of the photos were taken out on the quiet street outside the Queens photography studio, while the rest of the shoot took place inside. Aurora had plenty of fun, changing outfits and having her hair and makeup perfected and she chose to wear her prosthetic hand for some of the outfits, while leaving it off for others. By the end of the day, she was glad to be back in her own clothes and chatted away to Happy about the day as he drove her back across the East River.

Steve had prepared a nice meal for the evening, and both he and Tony were waiting in the penthouse when she returned.

“It’s been so good to have you home this week kiddo,” Tony said while they ate. “We’ve missed you.”

“Missed you both too,” Aurora replied. “It’s been nice to just stop for a moment and hang out with you both. Everything is so hectic lately and it feels like Harry and I are always rushing to or from something. Get’s a bit much sometimes.”

“You know we’re always here when you need a break,” Steve promised, reaching out to squeeze her shoulder slightly.

“I know,” she smiled. “Means everything to know I can always come here, and it’ll feel like nothing’s changed.”

“Well some things might be a changing a bit,” Tony replied. “Steve and I have started looking into adoption or surrogacy.”

“You’re going to have a baby?” Aurora squealed, her face lighting up in delighted excitement. “Oh, that’s wonderful!”

“It won’t happen for a while,” Tony continued. “It’s not a simple process and there’s a lot of paperwork and the tower would need to be approved by a social worker and either Pops or I will need to take a lot of time off work, so nothing will happen any time soon. We just want you to be involved.”

“And I really want to be involved,” Rori replied. “This is going to be the luckiest kid in the world to have you two for parents.”

“You don’t think it’ll be weird to have a baby sibling when you’re old enough to be having your own kids?” Steve asked.

“Not at all,” she promised. “Besides you’re technically only 34 Pops. That’s not exactly too old to be having a baby you know.”

Tony stood from his seat and quickly pulled his daughter to her feet, wrapping her in a tight hug. “Gonna be such a lucky kid to have the best big sister in the world,” he mumbled in her ear and she simply squeezed him tighter before they were both enveloped by Steve’s arms.

xXx

The day after Steve and Tony informed their daughter of their plans to expand their family, she packed her things and after a quick farewell, boarded a flight for Manchester. She was anxious the entire flight, pressing her thumb into the palm of her hand repeatedly or tapping her fingers on the tray table in front of her. Harry met her at the airport, his usual happy smile missing in action as he gave her a quick hug and then herded her back towards his car.

Aurora tried to enjoy her week in Holmes Chapel, she really did. She attempted to find the usual peace and comfort she usually felt when helping Anne in the kitchen, or when arguing with Harry over a game of scrabble about whether he was making up words, but all she felt, underlying every moment was looming dread. With every interaction between herself and anyone in the house she was painfully aware of the ticking clock hanging above their heads. Every time Robin coughed a little too hard or winced when he tried to stand up from the recliner in the living room, she was faced with the reality that she and Harry were there to say goodbye. She tried to hide it behind strained smiles and forced laughter, holding her tears off until everyone was asleep, and she could sneak outside to the back garden and let her sobs break free.

Despite knowing that it was very likely the last time she would see him, Aurora was grateful when it was finally time for her and Harry to return to London. She felt as though she hadn’t taken a deep breathe since the moment she arrived, so as heartbreaking as it was to say goodbye for what she knew was very likely the last time, she was relieved to be also leaving behind the tense and terrifying atmosphere of the house. They both hugged Robin and Anne goodbye, holding on a few moments longer than usual and neither commented on the others tears as they pulled out of the driveway and merged onto the motorway headed south. There was nothing to say as the radio softly played, breaking what would have otherwise been tormenting silence as Harry drove.

xXx

After only a few weeks back in London and another tv performance, Harry received the call from his mother that they had been dreading for months on end. Robin had finally lost his battle against the disease that had been ravishing his body for near on a year. The moment Anne gasped out the terrible words, Harry’s world stopped turning. His breath caught in his chest, his ears rang in the silence that wrapped around him, and his knees buckled beneath him. Aurora was by his side the moment he fell to the floor, taking the phone from his loose grip and quietly taking over the conversation with Anne. They didn’t speak for long and after hanging up, Rori remained on the floor beside her husband, her arms wrapped tightly around him as he shook silently.

“Rori I can’t breathe,” Harry gasped after many long minutes of silence between the pair.

Aurora felt her heart breaking as she held him tightly against her, his face buried in the crook of her neck as he shuddered. “I know, H,” she soothed. “I know, I’ve got you.”

“It hurts,” Harry continued to sob. “I know he wasn’t my dad but…”

“No,” Rori interrupted. “Don’t you try that shit Harry, not with me.” She pulled him away from where his face was buried against her, each of her hands cupping his cheekbones, forcing him to look her in the eyes. “Don’t you dare try to tell me that Robin wasn’t your father. Because if that’s true then Steve isn’t mine and I know losing him would hurt just as much as losing Mum did. He wasn’t your blood, but he was your dad and you’re allowed to feel this. Do you hear me Harry? You get to feel this. All of it. It hurts this much because he mattered, and he loved you. I know that you know that.”

“I can’t. I can’t do this Rors.”

“You can and you will,” Aurora promised. “Tonight, it’s just me here. You can cry or scream or whatever you need and then in the morning you’re going to pull yourself together and we are both going to be there for Anne.”

“Don’t leave me,” he mumbled.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, my love.”

Given the late hour of Anne’s call and the way that Harry had immediately crumbled, Aurora had decided that they would wait until the morning to drive north to Holmes Chapel, a decision that Anne had agreed with. After what seemed like the longest time, Rori finally coaxed Harry to his feet and helped him down the hall and into bed, only letting go of him long enough to strip out of their clothes before she returned to wrapping herself around his broad shoulders. They stayed awake until well after midnight and Aurora ran a soothing hand along Harry’s back as he clung to her. She pushed her own grief to the side, knowing that her husband needed to be able to lean on her without worrying about being a burden. She knew only too well the pain of losing a parent and she wanted nothing more than to shield her husband from that kind of pain, even though she knew that wasn’t possible.

xXx

Both Harry and Aurora were exhausted as they got ready to leave the following morning. They packed enough clothes for a week, knowing that they could just do laundry if they ended up staying longer and Harry carried their cases, and the garment bags holding their funeral outfits, downstairs to the car. Aurora followed behind him a few moments later, her hands full with travel mugs of coffee to keep them awake for the three hour drive up to Anne’s house. One stern look was all it took for Harry to give up arguing that he should drive and instead, he handed the keys to his wife and climbed into the passenger seat, gratefully sipping on the coffee she traded him for the keys. Aurora frowned as she watched him settle into his seat, before turning her attention back to pulling out of the garage and merging into the early morning traffic making its way out of the city. He looked terrible, his hair a mess, his eyes glassy and puffy, and his trademark smile was non-existent. She knew she probably didn’t look much better after staying up worrying about him all night and trying not to slip into her own feelings of grief she felt welling inside her. She would have time to grieve later, for now her entire focus was on her husband, as well as Anne and Gemma. Once she knew they were pulling themselves back together and supporting each other, then she would allow herself to cry and mourn Robin. Just as she had for Louis when his mother passed, now she put those around her first, taking on the caregiver role that she so naturally adopted in times like these. Even the mere thought of putting herself first made her feel sick to her stomach.

The drive was long, and Aurora was thankful when Harry finally fell asleep an hour into the drive as they passed Stokenchurch. She turned down the radio, driving silently for the next hour, following the motorway until she reached Strafford, taking the exit to stop for a coffee break. Harry continued to sleep, clearly exhausted from the lack of sleep the previous night, not even stirring when Aurora returned to the car and started the engine. She merged back onto the M6 and continued north until she finally arrived in Holmes Chapel. She reached out to gently shake Harry’s shoulder as they turned onto Anne’s street. He woke groggily, knuckling his eyes as Rori parked the car behind Gemma’s out the front of house. She laced her fingers through her husbands as they made their way up the path, the front door swinging open as the stepped onto the porch. Gemma didn’t say a word as she pulled her baby brother into a tight hug and then led them both inside to where Anne was sitting in the living room.

In any crisis, Aurora immediately stepped into a care giver role without really thinking about it and Robin’s death was one of the biggest crises she had ever encountered. For the first two days in Anne’s home, she cooked, cleaned and made sure that everyone always had a fresh cup of tea on hand. Between Anne, Gemma and Harry there was always at least one person in tears, but Anne tried her hardest not to let anyone wallow too much and instead insisted that they share their favourite memories of Robin. They had all sat around in the living room, laughing and sharing stories from years passed and while they were all deeply unhappy, this reminiscing did help lift the mood of the house. Rori spent many hours cuddled up on the sofa with Harry carding her fingers through his hair while he grieved or lying in bed next to each other talking late into the night while sleep alluded them both. Aurora manage to hold herself together and be the rock for everyone else in the house until their third night in Holmes Chapel.

It was late. Really late. Harry had finally fallen asleep, and with the rest of the house silent, Rori snuck downstairs and slipped out into the back garden. It was a clear spring night, a chill breeze blowing through the yard causing her to draw her cardigan tightly around herself. She took a deep breath, letting it out slowly until it turned into a deep sob, the kind that felt like it would break a rib. She gasped for breath as she cried in the darkness, finally allowing herself to miss her father in law. Finally allowing herself to feel the loss without worrying about adding to Harry or Anne or Gemma’s grief. Her cries were loud enough that she didn’t hear the door open behind her, or the footsteps across the patio. She jumped a little when a pair of arms wrapped around her shoulders and pulled her into a hug. Gemma gripped her tightly as she shook.

“Was wondering when you were finally going to let it all out,” she whispered as Auroras sobs began to soften.

“I’m sorry,” Rori said, pulling back from Gemma’s hold and wiping at the tears running down her cheeks. “I’m ok. How are you?”

“Stop,” Gemma replied. “Stop acting like you’re not allowed to miss him too. It’s not a competition. I get that you’re trying to be strong for H and Mum and me, but you’re not helping anyone by holding it all in and then coming out here in the middle of the night to let it all out.”

“I just,” Aurora muttered, “I just don’t want Harry worrying about me right now. I can hold it together so that he can rely on me while he falls apart.”

“You know he’d be furious if he found out you were hurting and not letting him in,” Gemma said. “We can all lean on each other. That’s the whole point of the four of us staying here together.”

Aurora nodded in understanding, not knowing what to say since her sister in law was clearly hell bent on winning this disagreement. “Let’s go inside and make some tea.”

Both women trudged inside, settling on the kitchen stools as they waited for the kettle to boil. “It just isn’t fair,” Aurora murmured when Gemma handed a mug to her and re-joined her at the counter. “He deserved more time.”

“Can’t argue with that,” Gemma said. “I don’t even know what to say to Mum. After so many crap guys, she finally found her soulmate just to have him taken away. Makes me so angry.”

“Makes me angry too,” Aurora agreed. “Feels like we just keep losing parents. First my mum, then Jay, now Robin.”

“Makes me afraid of who’s next,” Gemma replied, gnawing at her bottom lip.

“What are you both doing up so late?” Harry mumbled from the doorway, startling both women. “It’s nearly 4am.”

“Did we wake you?” Rori asked. “Sorry baby.”

Harry shuffled further into the kitchen, immediately noticing that his wife had been crying as soon as he neared her. He didn’t say anything, instead stepping up to her side and pulling her tightly against his chest. Her arms wrapped around his bare torso, as she buried her face against one of the swallows nestled beneath his collarbones. “Please don’t pull away from me,” he whispered.

“Didn’t want to burden you,” Rori whispered back in reply.

Harry loosened the hug, pulling away enough to look her in the eyes. “You’re never a burden to me,” he promised, his voice serious. “We deal with this the same way we do everything, we do it together.”

Aurora didn’t know what to say so she remained silent and instead buried her face back into his chest and clung tightly to him, as if he would disappear the moment she let go. She never noticed Gemma slipping out of the room, but by the time she pulled herself together enough to lift her head away from Harry, the young couple were alone in the kitchen. Harry silently led her back to their room, pulling the covers over them and hugging her tightly against him, neither able to fall back asleep before the dawn light began peeking through the curtains a few hours later.

NEXT CHAPTER

OR CONTINUE READING ON AO3

#skyfire fic #Husband Harry Styles #harry styles fanfiction #dad!tony #ptsd #domestic fluff #iron dad #step dad steve rogers #aurora stark #Harry Styles #tony stark #death of robin twist

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bubble-tea-bunny · 5 years

Text

ice cream, modern love, and nighthawks

[steve harrington x reader]

no spoilers

author’s note: st3 made me really want ice cream. this is the song i had in mind for the last part of this story, if you would like to listen to it while reading for true immersion lol

word count: 3,287

They (well, they as in Robin precisely fifteen minutes ago) say that staring at a clock makes time pass slower than if you were to look literally anywhere else. That steady beat of the seconds hand becomes maddening to observe, and suddenly the thought that it takes sixty—sixty!—ticks to make a full rotation, just for one minute to pass, is utterly ridiculous. Subjecting oneself to the agony of continuing to stare at the clock anyway, like maybe it will magically speed up, is a guaranteed descent into insanity. And, well, Steve does feel like he’s far past the point of insane.

He leans forward on the counter, head resting on his propped up hand as he focuses on the clock hanging on the wall. A minute and a half has transpired since he started staring and he sighs heavily, running his free hand over his face. It certainly doesn’t help that he didn’t get much sleep last night, and his body has been crying out for rest since he came in this morning. The hours crawl by and he knows he’d do well to tear his eyes away from the clock, but now there’s something addicting about it, and the ticking hand feels therapeutic, and he’s getting sleepier by the second…

“Steve.”

At the sound of his name, Steve blinks and stands up straight, grunting and waving dismissively in the general direction of the window behind him, where, from the back of the store, Robin looks at him pointedly, her brow raised, as though to remind him of her words almost seventeen minutes ago.

“Yeah, yeah.” Steve finally finds his words and sighs heavily, just in time for a two customers to walk in.

Perhaps it’s because Robin knows about how little he had slept that she can easily detect the fatigue underlying his attempted cheery greeting. She smiles slightly and shakes her head, sliding the glass door closed before returning to her work in the back of the shop. This is not the first instance Steve has been caught staring at the clock during his shift. It was an everyday occurrence, like clockwork (pun absolutely intended). She can’t help feeling a bit bad that today, time seems to be passing even more slowly for him, for it’s compounded by his lack of rest.

What he needs is a distraction to keep his mind off the time, and that’s exactly what he gets now that the sun is setting, and the mall grows livelier since it’s the end of the workday. Steve doesn’t have a chance to glance at the clock while he’s serving the influx of patrons. The tables in the shop fill steadily, people coming in to escape the heat from outside, for with every day Hawkins grows warmer, a reminder that summer is fast approaching.

After the rush dies down, Steve takes stock of which ice cream flavors have nearly empty tubs so that he can replace them with new tubs from the back. He opens the window and lists the flavors off to Robin, and she’s not facing him, engaged with a different task, but nods to let him know she heard him. Steve grins, taps his hands against the counter a few times, and says thanks.

He twists around only to instinctively steals a glimpse at the clock. And it’s time, he realizes excitedly. His heart skips a beat or three in delight and his eyes shoot to the entrance of Scoops Ahoy. As if on cue, you come into view, and if Steve also had the clock in his line of sight at the same time, he knows your arrival would have been synced up to the very second, as it always does.

You’ve yet to turn the corner to enter the shop, which means you haven’t seen him yet. So he turns around, peering through the window and pretending to be busy. He waits with bated breath until—ding! That ring of the bell is all of a sudden music to his ears, and he twists around, wide smile plastered on his face and one might not have ever realized he only got four hours of sleep last night but none of it matters now that you’re here.

“Ahoy, young lady!” he greets you.

He wonders if his opening was a little loud, a little too enthusiastic, for you jump slightly in surprise at the jovial salutation. But then you don a smile that matches his own and you laugh. “Ahoy, sailor,” you respond playfully.

“What flavor would you like today?”

You hum in thought, not quite decided, but there’s no rush because no one else is in line. And this is the type of waiting Steve doesn’t mind one bit. He would much rather study your features—the shifting of your eyes to the side as you look over at the tubs of ice cream, the pursing of your lips as you think because choosing a flavor is a paramount decision and you want to choose well, of course—than a dumb clock, a dumb reminder that there are periods in a day where he has to be without you.

“Surprise me.”

Steve blinks, not immediately registering that you’d answered, since he had been expecting a flavor. But upon hearing what you’ve decided, he chuckles and turns his head to survey the ice cream tubs, running through all the options in his head. “All right…” he trails off, then briefly glances at you. “But don’t look.”

With a giggle, you make a show of covering your eyes with your hands and promise I’m not looking! Steve makes quick work of scooping his chosen flavor onto a cone, then adding a dash of sprinkles, the finishing touch to every ice cream cone you order. Then he returns to his spot by the register and across from you who, true to your word, are still not looking, hands completely concealing your vision. The ghost of a smile is resting on your lips and Steve would kiss you if he weren’t working.

“And voila!” he announces his presence and holds up the cone to you as you lower your hands and blink, adjusting to the light. You reach out to grab it, fingers brushing against his because it’s a small cone and frankly, it’s impossible to take it without at least some contact, not that either of you is opposed.

You take a tentative lick of the ice cream and let it melt on your tongue, examining the flavor. When you figure it out, your eyes light up. “Peanut butter?” Steve chuckles and nods. It’s your favorite flavor, and one that you hadn’t had in a while. With him working here, your visits are frequent, and you tend to order differently each time so no one flavor becomes old or boring.

“I approve of this choice,” you declare, and Steve jokingly does a half bow.

Robin comes through the door with a fresh tub of ice cream just as you pay, grabbing the exact change from your pocket (a habit you formed to make paying easier). After you give the money to Steve, you wave hello to her, and she smiles but isn’t able to wave back due to both her hands being occupied. One of the booths is empty and you walk over to it, sliding across the shiny red vinyl.

Steve watches you dig through your backpack for your book, which you carefully flip through with one hand to find your spot. And Robin is watching him watching you, and she swears his eyes are glazing over, his thoughts clearly faraway. (But she knows to whom they’ve ventured.) She’ll admit it’s kind of sweet, and she lets him get lost in those reveries for the duration it takes her to replace the first tub of ice cream. She sets aside the empty one to bring to the back, then lowers the new one in its place. Once she’s done, she picks up the empty tub and starts walking to the side door.

“Get back to work, lover boy,” she calls over her shoulder.

This successfully grabs Steve’s attention and he turns to her, a light dusting of pink on his cheeks from being caught unawares and from the nickname she teases him with. He coughs and nods, mutters Right, okay and wipes down the counter even though it’s pristine. Robin only smirks at her flustered coworker before pushing the door back with her shoulder and retreating from view.

With no Robin around at that moment, Steve can’t resist sneaking peeks in your direction. You made visits to Scoops Ahoy part of your routine because he works here. When he first started, you dropped in during his shifts as a fun surprise, to say hello and see how he was doing, and it had always been the highlight of his day. But the visits never lessened in frequency and it simply became a regular occurrence. If Steve was working, it was a guarantee you’d drop by. Every morning he clocks in, he immediately starts counting the hours, not until his shift ends, but until he sees you part from the sea of people bustling throughout the mall and drift into the ice cream parlor.

Sometimes you come by later on purpose to wait for him until closing. During those days, you take the bus, since sticking around that late means you’re staying over at his house for the night. Today is one such instance of this, and is why you’ve made yourself comfortable at a booth, nose buried in your novel. There was still a little under an hour left until the mall closed and Steve would be finished.

Gradually the customers trickle out one by one, out of Scoops Ahoy and out of the rest of the stores. The lively chatter dies down, the employees lock up, and another busy day reaches an end. Your ice cream cone has long since been consumed, and just like he usually does, Steve asks if you want anything else before he and Robin start cleaning up the equipment. You take him up on the offer every now and then, but not tonight.

Tonight, you smile and say No thanks then return to your book but Steve’s not so quick to return to washing and storing the scoops, instead lingering on your form for a second because he feels like he’s in his own version of Nighthawks, where the setting is an ice cream shop, not a bar, and you’re the sole customer on this quiet evening and maybe in these later hours you’ll talk about the universe or the meaning of life because the silence afforded when everyone else has gone home gives you room to think, to wonder, and those musings float to the surface with a desire to fall upon the ears of someone willing to listen.

Robin takes her leave once everything is wiped down and ready for the next day, and she says a quick goodbye as she passes you, not wanting to pull you away from your book for long. You grin and bid her goodnight and tell her to drive safe. I will! she promises, and then she disappears around the corner in the direction of the parking lot.

Steve still has to count out the cash in the register, but that doesn’t take long, and after grabbing his jacket and shrugging it on, he says he’s good to go. His voice is hushed, for he doesn’t want to disrupt the silence that permeates the mall. If he were to speak louder, he’s sure there would be an echo.

You tuck your book into your backpack and slide out from the booth, then wait for him by the entrance to the shop as he turns off the lights. As he walks over to you, he slides the sailor’s hat off his head and uses his free hand to run his fingers through his hair, mussing it up to return the volume it had lost due to the hat he’d worn for hours. He catches you smiling widely while he does this, and he raises a brow in question.

“What?”

You shake your head but the smile doesn’t fade. “Nothing. That sailor cap’s just cute on you is all.”

Steve grins at your compliment and wraps an arm around your waist to pull you close. Now that he’s off the clock, he’s free to kiss you as much as he wants. He lays a few quick pecks on your lips and you giggle, fingers curling into his biceps to steady yourself. When he pulls away, he plops the cap down onto your head and you laugh again, adjusting it so it doesn’t slip off. Steve kisses you one more time because he can’t resist, and murmurs against your mouth that it looks cuter on you.

The neon lighting in the main section of the mall illuminates your path to the exit. Strips of pink and blue line the walls, and you slow your pace to admire the way they spread and diffuse in the dark, crawling along the tiled floor beneath your feet. Eventually you stop completely, but Steve doesn’t notice immediately and continues walking.

“It’s so pretty, isn’t it?” you breathe out quietly.

This stops Steve short, and he twists around to find you standing in place, attention on the lights above you both. The soft wash of the neon lights passes over your face and reflects off your eyes, and if you keep still any longer he might think you were a statue, placed so perfectly in the center of the scene, a movie on pause, a photo in a frame. You look right at home engulfed in magenta and teal, and he feels like he’s dreaming. Yes, it’s all very pretty and he would like to stay asleep to enjoy it a little longer and would you pretty please stay with him while he does?

There’s a secondhand store downtown that Steve likes to go to every now and then. It’s where he bought his record player and the first couple of vinyls to start off his collection. It’s a small mom-and-pop shop, but unlike several other businesses along this street, it doesn’t suffer from the opening of Starcourt due to the lack of competition.

Though summer has technically begun, there are still some gloomy days this month, and the day Steve drives downtown is one of them. The sky is overcast, the blanket of clouds thick and turning grayer by the hour, the light of the sun becoming obscured. A gust of wind ruffles his hair when he gets out of the car, and a few raindrops land on his jacket as he covers the small distance across the sidewalk to the shop.

The bell above the door jingles; he’s the only customer in here. He’s mildly acquainted with the shop owner, Nick, who stands behind the counter and waves hello. Steve waves back, then winds his way through the aisles, in search of the electronics. He whispers to himself Come on, please be here as he scans the shelves, moving aside other items in case the cassette player is pushed to the back. The longer he goes without seeing it, the more his heart sinks, but then he spots it there, on the bottommost shelf, and his heart jumps back up and his whole body seems to move with it, his shoulders lifting with his deep inhale and then relaxing as he sighs in relief.

He brings it to the counter to pay, and Nick smiles when Steve sets it down. It’s a warm and wistful smile to match the memory he shares as he inputs the price on the register: he has a cassette player much like this one that he kept in his car. When he and his wife were still dating, they would stargaze on the outskirts of town where the lights were minimal, and he would always have it playing on low volume. And sometimes they danced in the grass among the dandelions.

Steve’s thinking about this story even as he gets back into his car and his newly acquired cassette player is sitting on the passenger seat next to him. A small smile is on his face and the rain patters gently on the windshield and he’s feeling a fondness for a memory that wasn’t his in the first place. But he’d like one of his own.

The next shift he works where you stay until closing passes similarly to how it did the last time. You reject the last call for more ice cream, the reason tonight being that you’d split a sundae with your friend who had accompanied you to Scoops Ahoy earlier. It left you much too full to consider eating more. Robin says goodbye after everything is cleaned, and Steve sticks around for several more minutes to close out the register.

One part of the routine that is different is that Steve is the one to slow down first on your walk to the parking lot. He grabs your attention with a question as he comes to a stop—Hey, why don’t we stay a while?

You turn to him, head tilted in confusion at what he means. He grins and slides his backpack off his shoulder, which contains his jacket and the cassette player he bought recently. He takes out the latter object and holds it up, and you start to smile too, more so from the inkling of excitement quickly growing in his eyes than from your understanding of what he has planned, because you’re not certain you know what he’s up to.

Steve already had a cassette in the player ready to go, and all he has to do is press play. Then he sets it down on the planter and drops his backpack on the floor right in front. An upbeat tune floats from the speaker, and it’s not loud, but in an empty space, it carries far anyway, bouncing off the walls and floors. He holds a hand out to you, a wordless request for you to join him, and your smile widens as you realize what he’s asking of you.

In a few short strides you’re standing before him, and he takes both your hands in his and sways the two of you side-to-side in time with the music. He sings along, not caring if he falls flat on some notes, and when he twirls you around, he brings his free hand up to his chest, exaggerating his movements and the emotion on his face as he belts out the chorus. You laugh at the theatric nature of his actions and he brings you to him again, one arm around your waist and his other hand intertwined with yours.

The glow of the neon lights cascading over you is more brilliant up close, and Steve is overwhelmed once more by the distinct feeling that he’s asleep and this is just a dream. The music is fading like it’s far away and all he’s interested in hearing is your laughs and your own voice as you sing with him (you’re on pitch every time).

Starcourt is different when it’s late at night and the shops are closed and the fluorescent lights are switched off. The bright strings of blue and pink surrounding you both transport you to another galaxy; they’re the blur of color you see through the window of your rocket ship. In this court of stars, you and Steve are the queen and king, with a thousand little suns adorning your crowns and the rings of Saturn wrapped around your fingers.

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington imagine #stranger things x reader #stranger things imagine #steve harrington #stranger things #queue #bubble-tea-bunny

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robinskalechip · 5 years

Text

home - chapter ten

robin buckley x reader

a/n: thank you for all of the positive feedback :) it means a lot

warnings: language, light smut

masterlist

not my gif!

chapter ten - at your own will

sofia and robin had spent the last two weeks getting to know each other more and more. sofia took robin to school and picked her up and hung out with her at the store on the days she wasn’t with the kids. once they found out about her going to see the byers they all immediately begged to go with, turning it into a full fledged family trip as long as they didn’t ruin the surprise that they were going which only joyce knew about. they had to push it back a week from its original date though because they had an av event that weekend and sofia would never pull her children from their passion.

it was the friday evening before they all went on the trip and sofia had gone to drop off food for steve and robin. steve’s only concern was the tacos he had in front of him while robin had other things on her mind. as much as she saw sofia, she remembered how much she missed her.

she missed her touch

robin watched as steve was munching on his four large tacos until she redirected her attention to sofia, motioning her to follow her

robin led sofia into the storage room which housed supplies of all varieties

sofia walked in to have robin close the door immediately after her entering

“what are we doing here-“

she was cut off by robin slamming her lips into hers, pushing her again the now closed door

robin reached her hand behind the other girl’s body and found the doorknob, locking it

the kiss was heated and passionate and only intensified as robin pushed harder and moved towards sofia’s neck

the two had only ever made out a lot and i mean a lot like every single time robin goes to sofia’s apartment they make out like its nobody’s business sofia was more experienced than robin and was making it her mission to take things slow with her, she didn’t want this one to be like any of the other relationships she had been in. and she told robin this, their entire relationship past their first sober kiss was handled with perfect communication on each party. robin was just a horny teenager and was constantly wanted to touch the girl she had been spending so much time with

robin kissed the other girl’s neck and they both tried to keep quiet. sofia smiled as robin “worked her magic” so to speak, causing a small moan to escape from sofia’s lips, “come over tonight”

robin stopped, looking at the other girl, “for-?”

sofia nodded

robin smiled and kissed her once more before pulling back, “can’t wait”

the two kissed a few more times before they opened the door to see steve standing there with a mouth full of tacos haha “mike is here”

he was still only focused on the taco cutie

robin and sofia were slightly blushing as they walked past steve and saw mike standing behind the counter

“just wanted to stop by and call shot gun for tomorrow”

robin quickly stepped towards him in a defensive way “uh no, front seat is mine”

mike protested “sofia? tell her its mine”

sofia enjoyed seeing robin interact with the kids “rob gets the front seat kid”

mike started to storm out of the store as sofia yelled “7 O CLOCK DONT BE LATE IF YOU WANT TO SPEND AS MUCH TIME WITH YOUR GIRLFRIEND AS POSSIBLE”

the three older ones laughed as he stormed off, robin said she’d meet sofia at her apartment after work so they parted ways for those next few hours

once the end of steve and robin’s shift ended, robin started to get her bike before steve offered to take her home. she warned him that she was going to sofia’s and that she just needed to drop by her house for clothes and he still insisted.

on the ride robin began talking to steve about sofia, “you know i really cannot for the life of me understand how and why sofia was friends with you and all of them”

steve began to talk in a playfully defensive tone, “listen her and i, were practically married in kindergarten”

robin laughed, “you’re kidding”

“nope nope not at all, our parents were convinced we would date later on but just never happened. we saw each other almost every day our entire childhood’s and never once even kissed or anything, guess i wasn’t her type”

robin laughed to herself, seeinf the irony

steve laughed, “she wasn’t even friends with them, she was just friends with me. she HATED tommy more than anything and she said she wanted to knock carol out every time she opened her mouth but it was ok because she was cool with me”

robin smiled thinking back to a rant sofia had about how much tommy h annoyed her

“she made me a better person rob..it was different when she left”

robin furred her brows, “why did you stop being that person?”

“i was angry and confused and cared more about my reputation than actually talking about how i felt so i went on to being a douchebag”

“did you love her steve?”

“yes. she was like a sister to me. she still is but i got over her leaving and i still don’t know why exactly she left but i trust her. she knows better than any of us do”

once they arrived at robin’s house, she ran up to her room and grabbed the bag she had packed the night before and placed some extra clothes in for the night

steve and robin continued to talk about some of his happiest memories with sofia

once they got to sofia’s apartment, robin thanked steve for the ride and off he went to hang out with the boys aka mike lucas and dustin

robin knocked on the door and on the other side she heard yelling “ITS OPEN”

she opened the door to find sofia in the kitchen

she had on small shorts and a pullover sweatshirt with the name “illuminous” sewed onto the pocket area in a small font

the beautiful girl was also occupied by her thin framed glasses and her hair up slightly, as much as her hair could go up because of how short it was

she was stirring a pot as she told robin “you can put a movie in if you want”

robin nodded before approaching the girl to kiss her neck and then whisper “that smells good” in the pot was a small portion of pasta, just enough for two

sofia turned her face to meet robin’s and kiss her gently, “stop distracting me freckles”

after eyeing the cuisine a little longer, robin went a found one of her favorite film, a streetcar named desire which she knew was also one of sofia’s favorites so she started to set it up as sofia called her into the kitchen and asked her to get plates and what not set

domestic

robin set the table and poured two cups of italian cream soda

once the pasta was finished, sofia placed the pot onto the table and admired her work to then turn to robin “if it blows i’m blaming linda”

the two ate and talked, tonight’s topics were whether or not truman capote was in love with perry smith, how long lucas and max would last until their next fight, and what movie genre was the best

after they ate, robin layed on the couch taking up almost every inch before sofia made her way to the area, giving robin a displeased look “you left me zero room rob”

robin looked at her and scooted slightly into the couch’s back cushion

sofia walked towards the television and took out the movie, “fine, we can watch it in the bedroom”

robin got up and followed sofia into the singular bedroom of the apartment and jumped onto the bed as sofia put in the movie and quickly followed robin into the bed

they cuddled right away bc softies

about an hour into the movie robin looked at sofia as she was watching to movie closely, even though she could feel robin’s eyes on her and began to laugh “what?”

robin smiled at her, “nothing, you’re just..”

sofia looked at her, “im just what?”

robin didn’t even finish her sentence before going to kiss the other girl who had previously claimed her shoulder as hers before pulling away to finish the mystery “you’re beautiful sof”

sofia smiled into the next kiss “you’re not so bad yourself buckley”

robin’s hands found their way to sofia’s neck as she deepened the kiss and positioned herself onto sofia’s lap

robin took off her shirt to reveal the black bra she had worn to which brought out a “holy shit” from sofia as she continued to kiss robin and quickly began to move to her neck. although it was intense as things began to escalate more and more, robin felt safe and was aware if she felt uneasy at any time sofia would respect her take notes

sofia pulled away from her neck to then place one more gentle kiss to robin’s lips before whispering,

“anche tu sei bella you’re beautiful too”

next chapter

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