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mrvdocks · 2 years

Text

Life As We Know It VII.

Pairing: Steve Harrington/Reader

Chapter Summary: Robin comes over to help you out and for moral support. Your relationship with Steve starts to take a turn.

Author's Note: whaaaat??? I'm posting again? And more than once in a row?? No but for real hey y’all! hope y’all are still enjoying the fic even after its long and much awaited return :)) also the nickname that Robin gives the reader as “Bee” is meant to be like bumblebee and an affectionate term based on their history.

There’s always someone there when you’re born. Whether it’s a nurse, a doctor, your mom, your dad, anyone really. You’re never alone.

When you die however, that’s when it gets tricky. Some people die alone. Some die with strangers. And sometimes some just die in places no one will ever find them.

You hoped it was the latter for your friends, embracing death surrounded by those they loved.

The rapid rhythm of your heart persisted, going crazy in your rib cage at the thought of existential dread. Parenthood wasn’t something you were particularly crazy or happy about. Hell, you weren’t sure you had the right upbringing either. Co-parenting with Steve was also the least of your worries. But there was a tiny voice in your head - you couldn’t tell if it was Nancy’s or Jonathan’s - that urged you to go on in their ever so usual forcing yet gentle tones.

You wished for a simpler peace. Instead all you got were a baby, a manchild, and a booklet on how to plan for funerals.

The booklet went tap - tap - tap on your chest, nearly ripping off its stapled spine after so much looking through it. You set it aside, choosing to not look at it any further. You weren’t so determined to get up, you much rather would wait to lay in bed until you heard Abby’s cries. Either way, Steve was still soundly asleep on the big couch in front of the television in the living room.

You were waiting for Robin to show up to the house, who knew funeral planning took a village?

Once your phone buzzed and you nearly ripped it off of the charging pod to confirm her arrival, you lept up and out of the messy bed and down the stairs. Steve remained asleep even during the heavy pattering of your feet against the wooden stairs. Not surprising, he’d gone out the night before and gotten absolutely plastered.

After his small outburst in the car a few days ago, it wasn’t hard to understand why he was acting this way. That he had a right to be upset about uprooting his life. That’s where you found similarities in each other. But where you differed was where and how you both sought to cope. He went out and partied while you stayed home and let every emotion overwhelm you until you cried your eyes out and became dehydrated.

You chuckled dryly to yourself, feeling a familiar familial feeling to it.

Robin had been an absolute rock for both of you during this time, obviously being the voice of reason that kept you and Steve from going at it like usual. Though Robin and Kali would often spend time with you two, Kali was often busy running the bar and so Robin would come in when she could. The two of them often taking turns checking up on everyone. Will called the day after the news hit their side, a sobbing and slobbering mess like you. He promised to visit soon, just as soon as Joyce got a little better, though the news only seemed to make her health decline.

Though you suddenly had a help line, you felt so ashamed to ask for help or emotional guidance. It wasn’t something you grew up with nor was it something your family ever offered. To have that felt strange and foreign.

Robin carried an array of mail from outside, groceries, and along with a bag that contained a change of clothes for Steve. She beamed slightly, showing off her pearly whites as she entered the threshold and waved at you with her free hand. You smiled back slightly. It felt odd to you. Especially when all you did was the opposite. But Robin was a glass half full kind of person, always so persistent to keep going.

“Hey Bee, got you some essentials and some other things. Didn’t know what you needed so I just kind of grabbed whatever I thought you’d like, hope that’s okay.”

“More than okay,” you respond, taking the things from her and walking over to the kitchen and setting everything on the island. “Anything works at this point. I don’t really know what to make here or even have the appetite to eat anyway.”

Her brows furrow, “You have to eat Bee- you’re starting to look a little like a ghost. When’s the last time you got some sun or something?”

Suddenly self conscious, you wrap your arms around your body and shrug. “I dunno. I haven’t really gone out since we picked up Abby. Nancy kept some snacks or cereal bars around so that’s all I’ve had.”

Robin shakes her head sympathetically. “Well, I brought food so we’re going to try to make something. You know I can’t cook to save my life so let’s see what we get otherwise we’re getting takeout.”

This spurs a chuckle out of you. You silently agree.

It only takes the two of you about nearly an hour or two to somehow pull through making a simple dish and conversations that go from whatever’s on tv at the moment to deep personal things for you to feel somewhat normal again.

“How’re you feeling?” She suddenly asks, her mouth slightly muffled from the food she was bringing to her lips to eat. “Still scared?”

You don’t know how to answer that, no one’s asked you that yet. Or maybe they have. You’re not sure. You’ve been blanking a lot lately.

You feel your shoulders drop as you release a sigh. “Not so much scared - just hopeful. I want to be someone Abby can depend on. Not just some cheap replacement for her real parents. I want to be able to do something for myself or for someone else and not be seen as this girl from Hawkins from the other side of the tracks everyone should feel sorry for.”

Especially when tragedy seems to always follow you.

“First of all, you're not a cheap replacement. Jonathan and Nancy picked you for a reason. They trusted you, they loved you, they knew just how much you love Abby and they knew you could do so much more for her if you had the chance. Second, no one is thinking that of you. Your past isn’t you and it’s definitely not your future. You’re better than that. You know you are. And you know you’ll be a great godmother.”

You poke at your food with the fork in your hand. “I just feel like - I don’t know if I agree with their choice to help me. I mean this is all just so unconventional.”

Robin snorts. “You’re talking to the ‘Queen of Unconventional', here. But Steve….he has his moments of vulnerability. Is he a fast talking womanizer who only thinks of getting his dick wet and rocking out sometimes? Yes, absolutely. But he’s still got a heart of gold. At least that’s what I remember from working with him at Family Video.”

“You know, I just can’t help but think this is Nancy’s last laugh. Like it’s her way of putting him and I together again. Even dead I can’t shake her damn matchmaking skills.”

“You’re putting too much faith into a dead woman’s last will. Whatever happened to seeing his brother? Or literally anyone else?”

“Trust me, out of all the people in the world, he’s the last person I’d even consider to repopulate the Earth. But I haven’t seen his brother since her last appointment. I’d imagine he probably would be coming to the funeral or something.”

Robin chokes on her food.

“Swallow, Robin. Also, I don’t need another friend to leave me behind too.” You remind her.

“I did - you just caught me off guard. Is that not like a hippo violation or something? Going to your patient’s mother’s funeral?”

“HIPAA - and I don’t know. Just seems like the respectful thing to do. It’s not like Steve will alert me if he comes either. He doesn’t seem like he likes him that much.”

“Oh yeah, they go way way back. You know, usual sibling rivalry stuff. But Steve never talks about it. I just get it all from looks and vibes. But you know, you should probably check that out.”

“I figured. I mean don’t get me wrong he’s cute and smart. But I’m not sure if I’m all that prepared or ready to go out there. Most guys don’t want to sit here with a baby and a co parent as a part of the deal.”

“And if they do? There’s got to be at least one man out there that doesn’t mind a baby already existing in the equation. Steve is easily removable. I’m just saying.”

“Yeah, yeah.” You conclude, just as Steve himself walks in. It profoundly startles both of you, sending you leaping back a foot and Robin shook as she slides off the island counter to smack him with the spoonful of food.

“What are you - a Prius?’ She wacks him once on the shoulder. “We need to put a bell on you or something.”

Steve chuckles heartily. “That defeats the purpose of the charm. The ladies can’t see me coming.”

“Or it could be a warning. Maybe they’ll thank us.” You interject, making eye contact with him long enough for the two of you to exchange silly childish looks.

He gives the food a glance and claps his hands together, “Alright, food! I’m starving.”

Both you and Robin place your arms dramatically over the food, “We made this! Go get your own food!”

Steve fights back and leans a fast hand under Robin’s armpit to tickle her which sends her jumping back, spilling hot sauce on her shirt, and away from the food. He immediately rips away a bowl of chicken and rice and rushes out the kitchen to eat in the living room.

“Robin!” You exclaim, rushing to your friend. Robin mimics a soldier who’s been hurt on the battlefield.

“How bad is it Doc?” She fake winces.

You run a hand up the hot sauce, ignoring that it looks like blood, and lick it clean from your finger. “We’re going to have to amputate.”

Robin remains in character as she whines and helps you lift her up. She grabs a fistful of napkins and cleans herself up, but not before offering some words of wisdom.

“Go get him back!”

As if on cue, you rush out of the kitchen and to the living room where Steve is beginning to sit and get comfortable as he flips through channels. Once he sets the bowl of food on the coffee table a few feet in front of him is when you attack. You lunge forward to grasp him from behind, pouncing and wrapping your arms and legs around his chest and waist. The sudden weight is enough to send both of you falling to the floor with an oomph! sound.

Steve gets the upper hand when he slides a hand into your shirt backwards and uses the same maneuver he did on Robin. It’s your greatest weakness and it makes you release him from your somewhat vice grip. Next thing you know, Steve’s in-between your legs hovering over you as he uses one hand to torture you and the other to hold your hands up above your head to stop you from recovering.

It happens so fast, it even takes Robin by surprise as she peers out from the kitchen and walks over. You’re both breathing hard on the floor, coming down from mutual attacks and staring at each other intently.

“Truce?” Steve asks huskily, his necklace dangling ever so slightly above your face. The cold silver guitar pick grazes your face as he repeats his question.

Suddenly aware of the change in position, you feel yourself go red. You’re now realizing your hot breath is on his face, which should’ve smelled like food, but he doesn’t seem deterred by it. In fact, your eyes are trained on him now, scouring over his soft features. The laughter lines, the faint yet many moles he has, the bridge of his nose, his over the top hair, it all comes into a soft focus like when you place a camera lens to fade everything out in the back.

His own eyes are studying you back. Taking in the way your chest rises heavily up and down as you try to regain your breathing to normal, the white v-neck shirt not doing much to hide it, the way your hair splayed out from underneath you to halo your face.

“Truce.” You breathe out, nodding quickly and splaying out your hands in surrender.

There’s a weird moment in between him getting up and off of you that Robin comments on later to Steve. One where the general animosity towards each other seems to take a backseat and Robin wonders if you’d both benefit from a hate fuck. But in the moment it doesn’t just feel like Steve is piercing your body with his eyes, but something in his eyes soften slightly. His face does actually, the same face you make when you forget something and suddenly remember and it was something you wanted to remember or find.

It’s a minute until you’re pulled up by him and settled on your feet. You both cough or do nervous tics that allow the other to excuse one other to get out of the situation. Robin keeps her laughter to herself as she watches you drag yourself back to the kitchen, teeth biting down on your bottom lip and eyes shut tight. She doesn’t need to use her infamous quips this time, you can already hear her.

You're passed out on the couch with your feet resting on Steve's lap as he sips on some can and finishes his bowl of stolen food. His encounter with you and Robin earlier didn't deter his appetite.

Robin sits lazily on the couch across from him, face in her knuckle as she tries not to fall asleep. Steve notices her nodding off and swings a foot over to her knee. Robin is startled momentarily before she smacks his foot away.

He sighs as he moves your legs aside and sits up.

"C'mon, time to go to bed. Go home. I got this." He says, confidently.

"No, you'll set the house on fire." Robin argues.

"Okay, it was one time and I was seven! I didn't know aluminum didn't go in the microwave."

Robin chuckles to herself and rolls her tired eyes. She stands up nonetheless. She rubs her tired eyes momentarily, glancing to you splayed out on the couch, clutching the multi color crochet blanket close to your face, soft snores erupting from you. Steve catches her glance and turns.

There had been less animosity towards each other since the car incident. While Steve still kept up appearances with you, he knew that this big change was definitely affecting his life in all aspects. His band, his love life, any freedom he thought he had.

As if she’s read his mind, Robin nudges him on the shoulder as she opens up the front door.

“How’s Monroe?”

Steve turns back to face Robin, remembering the mini fight he had with his on and off girlfriend when he had revealed his new parentage. He doesn’t know if she’s asking because she’s genuinely interested in knowing or if she’s trying to fill in the void of the late night.

He shrugs. “She doesn’t really see a kid being in the mix right now. I mean I get it. No one does. But it doesn’t matter. Us Harrington men don’t stay single for too long.”

There goes that smug face of his. His armor. Robin gives him a suspicious look, she always knew when he was being genuine or full of shit. Just a downside but also a perk of their very long friendship.

“Hmm,” she decides she’ll believe it this time. She turns her attention back to you. “Don’t forget to take her to bed.”

Before he can make a joke, Robin is steadfast ready with her correction. “Don’t.”

He gives a chuckle.

“Tuck her in, take her makeup off, be a gentleman for once.”

He places a hand on his chest, feigning being hurt by the comment. “Ouch Rob! You know I’m always a gentleman.”

She squints as she smirks. “Mhmm.”

She waves goodbye and Steve feels that feeling again as he closes the door. One where he feels alone even though you and Abby are within close proximity. He signs deeply as he reclines his back on the door.

He shuffles quietly to you, preparing himself to lift you as he snakes an arm under your knees and your back. With a small grunt he lifts and adjusts you, making sure you don’t hit your head on the banister or buster of the stairs. To his surprise, you don’t wake up amongst all the noise his heavier footsteps make up the stairs.

He kicks open the guest bedroom with his foot gently, getting it to open wide enough to shuffle clumsily into the room and let you roll off of him and onto the bed with a soft bounce.

Remembering Robin’s advice, he makes quick work of your borrowed house slippers and is careful to bring the covers laying on top of the ottoman at the foot of the bed to wrap around you. He tucks one side in under you, earning a small jump from your sleeping frame.

Ticklish, huh? Hm. He thinks to himself.

Steve finishes up carefully, stepping into the shared bathroom within the bedroom and ruffles through the contents of some of the drawers to find those makeup wipes he’d gotten so used to seeing overnight at his place.

Less is more. He knows by now.

Grabbing one or two wipes, he starts back to the room. He sits by your left side, careful to crane your head to face him and rub slowly and in circles for maximum effect. The cold touch of the wipes doesn’t wake you totally but you do shiver in response. He pauses for a moment, the pad of his right thumb feeling the soft yet wet skin. It’s so bare, so clean, so fresh.

He wonders if there’s something like this but for the soul. Something that allows him a fresh start. He can only guess it’s the situation he’s in now.

He finishes working on the other side of your face and dumps the wipes in the bin next to the bed, taking one last look at you. He shakes his head as he stands, ignoring whatever his mind or body are telling him, just as he was earlier when he had you pinned.

The good thing about the room you were staying in is that it was just across Abby’s own, making Steve’s late night patrol easier. He stares down at the old looking translucent doorknob, his hand hesitating just for a second. He knows that as soon as he walks in it’ll cement his status here with you. A parent. A father - no - stepfather. Just a replacement. A second choice. Always a second choice, it seemed.

Screw it.

The mobile’s lullaby is playing a rendition of a classic children’s song and the night light is illuminating the somewhat dark room in starry shapes when he walks in. He grips the doorknob until he feels ready to tread lightly towards the crib in front of him.

When two songs play and pass, he finally moves. Abby comes into closer view as he peers over her sleeping form. She’s splayed out like any normal sleeping baby, head turned to the right, chubby little arms and fingers above her head, little similarly chubby legs ever so often kicking at the blanket at her feet.

Steve reaches a hand in the crib and brings the blanket back up to her waist, the action so soft and yet so slow that it wakes Abby momentarily. Her little lashes blink up at him as she yawns and stares at him for a minute. Something tells Steve to reach out a finger, so he does. She stares at it as she brings up a tiny hand to grasp it. Steve lets out a soft incredulous laugh. Abby coos as she inspects his finger, somehow finding it amusing.

Steve feels a small smile tug at the corners of his lips. He wishes he could live in the feeling that he feels in the moment. To bottle it up and take it in small doses when reality becomes too much. When all he can feel is doubt and anxiety and stress.

The moment fades when Abby gets tired of his finger and her lids shut. She lets out a small shuddering yawn and goes back to dreamland, the lullaby from the mobile accompanying her on her journey. Steve decides to stay there, just in case she wakes up again. He pulls up the rocking chair next to the crib and sits, keeping an eye on the way she breathes.

He rocks gently back and forth until he feels his own eyelids start to fall, until he feels his head sulk to the side and sleep overtakes him.

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington imagine #steve x reader #lawki #stranger things imagine

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mrvdocks · 2 years

Text

Life As We Know It VI.

Pairing: Steve Harrington/Reader

Chapter Summary: Things have begun to settle in and rattle between you and Steve. A truth that should’ve been known is revealed and your walls begin to crack - slightly.

Tagging: @mochminnie , @babyspiderling , @orbitluke , @themapoftinyperfectthings , @anarchtayreads , if I missed you please let me know!

For the longest time you wondered if you were cursed or if someone in your family had royally pissed off some witch in the past to earn a lifetime of misfortunes. Your grandparents were unbearable to each other since they married, your parents seemed fine up until your fifteenth birthday then it all went to shit the second you stepped foot in Hawkins. Hell, not even your relationships stood the test of time here either, case in point, your lovely friends who now lay in the metal trays in a room somewhere miles away.

You woke up with a start, feeling an odd change within your chest. Your heart beat ever so faster than before, granted, there was a very sad reason for it but you didn’t expect it to follow you to bed. Sitting up in your makeshift bed and trying to get your heart in order, you glanced around the room, hoping that the events of the night before were a dream too, silently praying that Nancy or Jonathan would come in with some breakfast and Abby drooling with two chubby fingers in her mouth.

When one minute turned into five and then to ten of pure pulsing and ear ringing silence, you felt yourself frown. Feeling your stomach grumble and a bit parched from crying all night, you decided it was best to find something to eat before the CPS people came.

Elsewhere in the house Steve’s awoken by the sound of cluttering dishes and cabinets being opened and closed haphazardly. He can feel his eyes move from under his lids but hasn’t opened them yet. Slowly, he peers and lets them adjust to his surroundings. A deep tired sigh surprises him as he stretches and feels his legs shake.

There’s very little light in the guest room he’s in. Nancy’s favorite tweed curtains essentially blacking out all light from coming in. Seems appropriate for the tone after yesterday. Though he knows it’s early morning based on the chirps from the birds outside. He spends a few seconds looking up to the ceiling in the pitch black room, holding his breath, wondering to himself if this is what being dead feels like.

Dark numbness and claustrophobia.

He lets out a strained breath when he feels his chest get tight. It burns for a moment and then it fades away as soon as he breathes again. He wills himself up and swings his legs over the bed, bare feet touching the cold hardwood floors and forcing him to wake up even more.

He pulls on his discarded sweatshirt and doesn’t bother fixing his messy bed hair as he trudged out of the room, ears perking up to follow the sound of the clattering bandit.

He squints at the change in light and yawns, his nostrils being hit with the smell of breakfast. The bacon makes his stomach rumble and the floury smell of waffles nearly sends his knees buckling.

He halts in his steps when he sees you urgently whisking away at the eggs in a bowl, your wrist going on and on a little too harshly. He takes a step forward and suddenly he’s behind you taking the bowl from you softly.

“What are you trying to - you’re doing it too hard.” He doesn’t mean for it to come out rough or mean, but it’s out of his mouth too quick for him to stop.

You pull away from him and huff, letting him take over. You’re hunched over the sink, back turned to him but your attitude is still clear. Steve’s features soften up as he realizes and he sets the bowl down slowly, moving it back to you. You don’t budge but your eyes follow the bowl. A sea of yellow stares back at you with bubbles floating about.

“I just wanted to.....” you trail off, shaking your head slightly.

You just wanted this morning to feel normal. To feel like your best friends were coming back any second now and were going to scold you for making a mess in the house.

Steve tries to change the subject. “Anyone call?”

You peel yourself away from the sink and grab plates to serve yourself food. “Not yet. The lawyer’s supposed to come any minute now. He wants to talk to us.”

Steve nods to himself, knowing full well that anything can and will happen from this point on. Life has just thrown you both a curveball.

Since he was a kid, Steve thought he and his family weren’t susceptible to death. His grandma lived to be in her late nineties early hundreds, his childhood dog was still up and running (albeit a little more slowly), and his turtle Raphael was somewhere in a farm upstate. Granted he'd lost someone very close to him as a child, but he worked very hard to put that in the recesses of his mind. He realizes now that maybe he was just blissfully ignorant of it, shielded from the harsh feelings and emotions that came with grief by parents who always wanted to keep up a happy exterior. Some good that did.

You and Steve eat in silence for the time that it takes the lawyer to arrive. You feel yourself stare off into space, your eyes focusing and unfocusing on a potted plant by the sliding glass door. You only notice later that Steve has diverted his attention to his phone now and presumably was texting someone about the situation.

A part of you wondered how he was taking this newfound perspective of life…..and other things in general. You didn’t know him too well or too personally to grasp how he felt just yet. But if body language was any indicator, he seemed to be just as cool and unfazed as always just with the exception of less talking on his part.

You snap back to reality when you hear the familiar drone of the doorbell, prompting you and Steve to hop out of your chairs like you both just saw a snake on the floor.

It’s a race of who can get to the door fastest, but in the end, it’s you. Steve lingers back and straightens himself out.

You vaguely recognize the lawyer as a kid Jonathan used to work part time with in the summer.

“Argyle? You’re….Jonathan’s lawyer?”

His trademark long hair had been cut into a somewhat more professional and acceptable look but his boyish face could not have been more of an indicator that his personality betrayed the suit he wore.

“Hey!” He gleams, though he tones it down when he remembers why he’s there.

“Yeah, I wish we could’ve caught up under….better circumstances, but better late than never, huh?”

You chuckle nervously to yourself and step to the side to allow him inside. He makes his way to the table but not before passing and greeting Steve who casually shoots you a look.

“Did you two - ” Steve mouths but you hiss at him before he could finish.

To be frank, there had been some past “romantic” - if you could even call it that - history. It was just during that period of time where you wanted to get rid of your feelings for Jonathan and looked to others to soothe your achy heart. To make a long story short, you and Argyle only went out twice before you both realized his interests laid……elsewhere.

You take a seat next to Steve at the table with Argyle sitting in front of you both as he pulls what looks like important documents out of his case.

“I’m sure this is a very difficult time for you both, obviously. My condolences, of course, but I assume you two must have some questions.”

“Well, Abigail I think that’s who we’re trying to think of right now. Any idea of what’s going to happen to her?”

“Well we’ve already arranged for her transfer and the foster family she was with last night will bring her to CPS. Though right now they feel that she’ll adjust best somewhere familiar. So first, she needs to be picked up and brought home.”

“And who’s going to do that?” Steve interjects. You glance at Steve, feeling just as confused and then look at Argyle.

He chuckles nervously.

“So sorry, did Jonathan and Nancy ever talk to you about their guardianship arrangements?”

You and Steve glanced at each other again.

“No.” You say in unison.

“Well...in preparing their will months ago, we talked about who would be taking care of Abigail in the likely or unlikely event that they would both die. And, they named you. Both of you.” Argyle concludes the hammering of the nail in the coffin (not to be taken literally) by pointing to you and Steve.

You both glanced at each other again. You gulped as the revelation hung in the air, Steve sat upright and uncrossed his legs in the blink of an eye.

“I’m sorry, they picked us? Together?”

“I’m sorry, can you explain that?”

Yours and Steve’s inquiries blend together to form a jumbled mess to which Argyle had to look at whoever spoke first to answer.

“I’m sure this isn’t exactly how you wanted to start a family -”

“Oh no, no, no. I think there’s been some kind of misunderstanding, I -” You chuckle and point to yourself and then Steve. “We - are not married. I can’t stand him.”

Steve scoffs but nonetheless agrees. “Yeah no, they tried to set us up years ago and it was a disaster.”

“Huuuuge! I mean the level of pride and arrogan-”

“I think that was you not me -”

Argyle becomes overwhelmed enough to halt the fight with a change in his voice indicating for both of you to stop. You both settle back down in your seats like scolded children in the principal's office.

“I know this is overwhelming, and I did try to advise them that it wouldn’t be a good idea either, but there are other options as well. You can say no. Because this is a very big thing for the both of you. This isn’t a pet, this is a child which obviously is a big commitment. But I have here, both of your names written down as new guardians for Abigail.”

You stammered. “What about their other family?”

“Well for Jonathan’s side of the family, his mother is unable to care for the child as she is immobilized and her other son is taking care of her. And as for the Wheeler family, I’m afraid the trip from here to Wisconsin wouldn’t be good for the child.”

You and Steve both sat in thought, going over your options.

You don’t realize you’ve lept off the ledge figuratively when you ask what you ask next.

“What if one of us chose to honor their wishes?”

Realizing your boldness, Steve steps in again. “Or both of us, hypothetically.”

“Well, they did name both of you. So I’d have to arrange the court hearing to grant you temporary custody and that’d be it. The estate would cover the mortgage they have on the house but since they didn’t have much saved up and it was an investment - I think we can gloss over that for now and just focus on Abigail.”

You can’t tell if Steve’s shitting bricks as much as you are but at the moment you feel everything going a hundred miles an hour.

“Personally, I suggest the two of you move in here for the time being. For Abigail.”

Hesitantly, both you and Steve let out uncomfortable chuckles.

“I’m sorry, you want both of us to live here? Together?”

“Yeah no, sorry no can do buddy.” Steve chirps.

Argyle cuts in. “It would just be for now, for Abigail. Until you decide what you want to do. But it would be for the best. To her, she doesn’t know where her parents are but if she has figures that are reminiscent of them, she will adjust.”

You never wanted to replace your friends. Not in any way imaginable. To have to now assume their roles with this arrogant playboy just sounded like a nightmare. You didn’t know the first thing about kids besides the obvious. But you made a promise that night and if Abby went to some home, you don’t think you’d be able to live with yourself. Maybe you did have some growing up to do.

This just wasn’t how you imagined yourself maturing.

Children play behind the glass pane with a variety of toys, blissfully unaware of their situation. Your heart broke a little at the thought that some of these kids had no home or anyone to go back to. Cherubic faces with pink rosy cheeks and chubby fingers were all you could think about.

You weren’t sure you wanted kids. Aside from the scary changes the body went through and the after effects of it all, you’d grown up too much as a kid to take care of and be the mediator to your parents. You were basically an adult at age ten with the way you carried yourself. Other kids got toys and bicycles, you got familial issues and an unfair amount of knowledge about adults that many learn later in life. You felt robbed in a way, of that childlike nature that gleamed in these kids' eyes.

You sighed to yourself, letting your hand fall to your bouncing leg. Steve sat next to you as well, his attention changing from the kids to his phone.

You’d just signed your names on the piece of paper that sealed your fates.

It felt odd but there came a feeling over you, one that you didn’t think you’d have in a long while. It was the type of feeling you got when you started a new job or changed up your routine. The feeling of uncertainty, the fear of it. What could you do except be vulnerable to it?

The sound of a door creaking open sends both hours and Steve’s heads snapping up to meet a woman holding Abigail.

You don’t realize you’ve let out a breath until you feel it croak out of you and you stand so fast you see stars dance around the room. Subconsciously, you hold out your arms and reach for her just as you’d seen Nancy do before.

“Abby!” You coo softly.

You run the pads of your fingers gently against her small patch of hair down to her soft cheeks and then her chin.

The act is so familiar to her but not so at the same time that she begins to cry and curl her face into your chest.

Steve watches as the woman lets you have Abigail and he feels his chest start to lock up. He knows his eyes are getting blurry but he screws up his face together in a serious attempt at self control. It falters when he feels his mouth sway to one side.

Fuck it.

He practically jumps out of the chair and joins you, getting Abby’s attention in a split second. He caresses her head softly and then does that thing she likes where he digs his index finger into the fat on her neck.

She coos and reaches out for him, taking you completely by surprise. You pass her onto him, definitely not missing the way she settles into him like she did Jonathan.

The car ride back to Jonathan and Nancy’s - home - is silent. Abby is asleep in the backseat and you didn’t dare say anything to Steve. You kept to yourself and watched and counted the trees outside as you passed.

Steve definitely had changed his attitude half way through the ride, evident from the way he shook his head every so often and gripped the steering wheel.

It’s driving you crazy just seeing it be accompanied by his sighs. It’s like he wants someone to ask him what’s wrong.

“I think we need to figure out a sleep schedule.”

“They really didn’t think this through.”

Your comments overlapped again, earning confused looks from each other.

“What?”

“I said they didn’t think any of this through. Did Jonathan ever talk to you about this? Did Nancy?”

You scoff. “No they didn’t, but I know what you mean. I mean this isn’t just something you just forget to mention. It’s not like ‘Oh hey did you see the new coverage I did the night before? Oh yeah and also if I die, I’m leaving you to raise my kid’.”

“Nancy was a sneaky fox, I’ll give her that. Always up to something. Always had a plan.” Steve remarks.

“Exactly, we’re part of her plan. We’ve always been. God I can’t believe how long it took me, I’m so stupid.”

“You mind walking me through this plan? Because from what I get from it is we both have to live in that house, probably become sleep deprived, and suffer. Jesus, it’s like we’re one of her coverage cases.”

“Steve-”

“And don’t even get me started on paying it off! I’ve got things I’m saving for, things I actually want and need.”

You roll your eyes. “Alright first of all, Argyle said the mortgage was paid for. Second, we all know that money’s going to booze, your girlfriend, and other shit you don’t need.”

Steve guffaws, “Ha. Funny. You’re forgetting utilities, taxes, and all the other things they probably bought as investments. Jonathan was a junior journalist and photographer. Now I don’t know if you noticed but, I don’t make the same amount of cash! And what do you do, write articles no one reads for a living?”

Alright that was it.

You turn in your seat as much as your seatbelt would allow and get close.

“Listen here asshole, don’t worry about what I do or don’t do alright? I’m sure you have just about the same experience with children acting the way you do and surrounding yourself with those band mates you call friends. Argyle said if you don’t want to do it, then just don’t do it! Plain and simple. Me and Abby will be just fine.”

Steve recoils from the shock from the first statement and glances between you and the road.

“Yeah right and have you get all the glory and praise and I get shit for walking away?”

“I don’t know what else to tell you Steve, kids are messy. Things got messy and now they’re all fucked up. But if you want to walk away I’m just saying you’ll be taking the easy route.”

Clearly defeated and annoyed, Steve changes his mind and presses on. “No.”

Now with a brow raised, “No? What do you mean no?”

“Because - if Nancy put me there, then it was for a reason. That means she believed in me, trusted me. I might not like you all that much…..but you’re right. Everything is messy and fucked up and they were both good people. But they left Abby to us.”

He stops the car and pulls to the side. “If we walked away now and threw her trust away like it meant nothing, then that means she was wrong about you. And if she was wrong about you, then she was wrong about me.” He hammers home the last point by pointing to himself and letting his voice crack.

His legs kick lightly against the bottom of the car in a gesture.

Since high school, Steve has felt that Nancy pitied him, not just for leaving him but for something else. He hates that feeling. He’s lived with the thought of not being enough since he was a kid. If he made Abby feel that way as she grew up, he thinks he would rather be run over by a bus than continue living.

Steve’s emotions were foreign to you, well, just the ones that actually showed he cared. But this, this was a side that you haven't seen before. One that you knew Nancy wanted you to see for yourself. All of that behind that cold playboy exterior.

In a moment of vulnerability you unbuckle your seatbelt and allow him to hug your body to comfort him. You feel him shake against your chest, his shoulders bounce as he cries silently into you.

Now it’s your turn to confess.

“If we’re being honest, I always thought Nancy went overboard with her plans. But this has to be the most outrageous one. And I’m not as sure or happy about this either. But I feel like if I don’t do this, guilt is going to eat me alive. And I already have so much of that that haunts me.”

Steve goes silent for a moment. Time seems to pass slowly. It gets to the point where you think he’s gone and fallen asleep on you.

“Steve?” You ask softly.

“I know.” He says. It’s all he says.

You both go home in a more comfortable silence, both silently agreeing to not talk about this for the time being. Crossing the Wheeler-Byers threshold feels like a gut punch to the stomach. But as Steve cautiously opens the door with Abby lying on his chest, with her tiny fingers gripping the buttons of his shirt, the tension and pressure of it all feels a little less heavy.

#steve harrington x reader #steve x reader #modern!steve #lawki #stranger things imagine #steve harrington imagine

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