caught in the middle (series- ongoing)⚠︎✿𓉸☁︎ eddie x reader x steve
Summary: After a chaotic summer, you find yourself wanting to help out the town "Freak" graduate high school. What you don't know is that he has a complicated past with your best friend. You find yourself wanting to solve the mystery of what happened along with blossoming your friendship with Eddie and not damaging your relationship with Steve while the world tries to end all over again. It's a tight line to walk and you don't want to choose between them. You want both.
you and I were fireworks ✿ steve x reader
summary: its the last fourth of July before the kids all go to college. so that means a BBQ, tons of pool time, and fireworks by lovers lake. does it also mean you and steve finally stop dancing around whatever it is you are?
close encounters ⚠︎✿ steve x reader
summary: your boyfriend steve apparently doesnt abide by vampire rules and doesnt need to be invited in to sneak through your window for some fun. well- as fun as you can get with your parents downstairs. oops?
love cant always be perfect ✿𓉸☁︎ steve x reader
summary: based on the wedding planner- you're desperately trying to land the biggest wedding of the season- the wheeler/harrington wedding. but when you flirt with death and then the man who SAVED you from certain death by dumpster? you're in for a real treat. how are you going to be able to plan the wedding for the man youre falling in love with?
↪ love is just love ⚠︎✿ steve x reader bonus chapter
summary: you and steve spend the whole day together after your almost "i do's". but once he gets you alone? thats when you learn the most about him.bonus chapter for love cant always be perfect
Hi!! I saw you asking for reqs for Joe and I thought of an idea where it's a Joe x Reader but Reader is like a supermodel and they both first met up during a photoshoot and they slowly fall inlove! I would love for it to turn out like a zendaya and tom holland 🤤🤤 no rush tho!
Tysm! I hope you have a nice day and I love your works ayayays ❤️🩹
Closer
Pairing: Joe Keery x supermodel!Reader
Summary: When Joe is paired with you, the world's most required supermodel for the next Calvin Klein campaign, an awkward first meeting turns into the beginning of something neither of them saw coming.
English isn't my first language, so be understandable and gentle, thanks!
Word count: +3k
Author's note: Hey... did you miss me? I definitely missed you all. Sorry for the radio silence, I was totally out of inspiration, despite wanting to write so bad. But then I got this request (actually, my first request ever, so thank you so much) and just had to write it. Hope you enjoy the result! ❤️
Masterlist
Joe had been on film sets hundreds of times before. He had walked onto sound stages packed with cameras, memorized pages of dialogue overnight, and performed in front of entire crews and crowds without his pulse ever climbing above normal.
So why, out of everything he'd done in his career, did posing in his underwear with you feel infinitely more terrifying?
He adjusted the belt of the robe for what had to be the tenth time that morning, pretending to study the storyboard hanging beside the monitors or casually taking in the room around him while quietly trying to ignore the knot tightening in his stomach.
Every now and then, the sound of the doors opening or someone's cheerful "Morning!" would make his head snap up almost instinctively. For the briefest moment, he'd convince himself it might be you.
But every time, it was someone else.
"Get it together", he told himself.
He'd known this campaign was happening for weeks. When his agent had first mentioned it, Joe had laughed, convinced he was kidding.
He'd never thought of himself as the obvious choice for a campaign like this. He wasn't one of those impossibly sculpted Hollywood actors whose abs seemed to belong to another species. He'd always seen himself as... normal. Lean enough, sure, but hardly the kind of man people imagined modeling underwear on giant billboards. The idea that Calvin Klein genuinely wanted him as one of the faces of the campaign had felt surreal.
Then his agent had said your name and that was enough to convince him to accept the job.
You were one of the biggest supermodels in the world and a Victoria's Secret Angel. The woman whose face seemed to appear on every billboard and magazine. He’d never met you before but he'd occasionally spotted across crowded red carpets. Somewhere along the way, what had started as admiration had turned into an embarrassingly innocent crush.
Joe couldn’t help himself but thought you were breathtaking. And now he was expected to spend an entire day pretending to be your boyfriend while wearing only underwear.
But that wasn’t really the problem. After all, he was an actor and he knew how to pretend. It was his job. The problem was that he had somehow convinced himself that the second you walked through those studio doors, he'd forget how to function like a normal human being.
And unfortunately… he wasn't entirely wrong.
When the studio doors swung open and you hurried inside, a pair of designer sunglasses pushed onto your head while an oversized Balenciaga City bag threatened to slide off your shoulder, Joe stopped breathing for a moment.
"I'm so sorry!" you called toward the production team. "Traffic was a nightmare."
"No worries," someone answered. "Hair and makeup are ready for you."
You thanked them before disappearing almost immediately toward the dressing rooms.
Joe had seen countless photographs of you — campaigns, magazine covers, interviews. You had always looked stunning but none of them came remotely close to the real thing.
Joe stared for half a second too long before forcing himself to look away.
He was ruined.
-
Nearly an hour later, the bedroom set was finally ready. Soft morning light poured through apartment windows while photographers adjusted lenses and assistants hurried around carrying coffee cups and garment bags.
Joe stood near the bed, the robe was draped loosely over his shoulders, his hands buried deep inside the pockets to keep himself from fidgeting.
Then you stepped onto the set.
Conversation around the room softened almost instinctively.
Your hair had been styled into effortless waves, your makeup natural enough to look almost nonexistent, and the simple black Calvin Klein set somehow managed to look more elegant than provocative. You wore the same white robe over it, tied lazily around your waist.
Joe forgot how to blink.
Jesus...
Beautiful didn't even begin to cover it.
Then your eyes found his. For a brief second, he considered pretending he hadn't noticed but he couldn't take his eyes off you.
You smiled, genuinely and started walking toward him.
Joe's heartbeat doubled.
"Hi."
Your voice was softer than he'd expected.
"I'm sorry I disappeared the second I got here. I wanted to come say hi before hair and makeup kidnapped me but I was already running late and I didn't want to keep everyone waiting even longer.”
Joe blinked. He hadn't expected that. Somehow, he'd imagined someone with your level of fame would walk onto set expecting everyone else to adjust around her.
“Yeah, of course, don’t worry."
You extended your hand and introduced yourself, offering your hand with a smile.
“Yeah, I know."
The words escaped before Joe could stop them. His eyes widened.
"I mean—"
You laughed.
Joe rubbed the back of his neck, already mentally planning his own funeral.
"I'm Joe."
"I know."
You grinned, shaking his hand. His palm was warm.
"It's nice to finally meet you."
"You too."
For a moment, neither of you let go. When you finally did, you smiled again.
"I actually listened to some of your music on the drive here."
Joe looked up, surprised.
"You did?"
"I did."
"I... voluntarily?"
You laughed.
"Very voluntarily."
Joe smiled.
"I liked it."
Heat climbed into Joe's cheeks so quickly it almost hurt.
"Thanks."
"I mean it. You’re really good.”
He looked at you for a second longer than necessary. Then, before his brain had time to stop him, the words slipped out.
“Thanks. And you’re... really beautiful."
Joe's stomach dropped.
"Oh my God."
He squeezed his eyes shut for half a second.
"I didn't mean— I mean, I did mean it, obviously, because you are… beautiful. But I wasn't trying to reduce you to..." He gestured helplessly between the two of you. "I know that's probably the last thing you want to hear from someone you've known for approximately forty seconds, and now I probably sound like an idiot."
You were already laughing.
Joe looked adorably flustered.
"You know," you said once you'd caught your breath, “I think you worry way too much."
"I do?"
"A little."
You smiled reassuringly.
“It was just a compliment, Joe. You didn’t say anything bad.”
He exhaled. "Okay."
"I've definitely heard worse opening lines. And at least, you’re direct. I like that.”
Before Joe could find a response that didn't involve embarrassing himself again, the campaign director approached with a clipboard tucked under one arm.
"There you are," he said, stopping beside the bed. "Perfect. Let me walk you through today's concept."
The two of you turned your attention toward him as he explained the campaign.
"It's about intimacy,” he said, pointing toward the bed. "I want it to feel like we're intruding on a lazy Sunday morning between two people who are completely in love. You're teasing each other, laughing, touching. Nothing forced. Nothing overly posed. Everything must seem natural.”
Joe nodded, listening carefully. Or at least trying to. Because every few seconds his attention drifted back to you. The way you listened so intently. The slight crease between your brows whenever you concentrated.The absent-minded way you tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear.
He caught himself staring. Again.
Stop it.
When the director finally clapped his hands together, the room burst back into motion.
"Alright, robes off."
The words hit Joe like a freight train. He swallowed, hard, slow. Up until now, the robe had been a comforting barrier — a thin layer of cotton between himself and the vulnerability he'd been trying not to think about all morning. Suddenly, every insecurity he'd managed to keep quiet came rushing back at once.
I should've spent more time at the gym, he thought.
He glanced down at himself almost instinctively, mentally cataloguing every flaw only he seemed able to notice.
Beside him, you untied the sash around your waist without hesitation, slipping the robe from your shoulders in one fluid movement before handing it to a nearby assistant. It was obvious you'd done this countless times before. You looked completely at ease.
Joe wished he could say the same.
He told himself not to stare but he failed almost immediately. His eyes drifted despite every effort not to let them, taking in the lines of your naked figure before he quickly looked away again. He swallowed, his throat suddenly feeling impossibly dry.
Then, he slipped off his own robe a second later, revealing the white Calvin Klein briefs and a broad, toned chest dusted with soft curls. You couldn't help letting your eyes wander for a brief moment.
Now you understood why Calvin Klein had cast him.
Neither of you said anything.
Instead, you climbed onto the bed as assistants adjusted the sheets and tested the lighting. Joe stood awkwardly beside the mattress, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. His hands hovered uselessly at his sides. He looked as though he had absolutely no idea where they were supposed to go.
You watched him for another second before smiling.
"First time?"
He looked over.
"...What?"
"Shooting in underwear."
A sheepish smile crossed his face as he nodded.
"Yeah."
"I could tell."
He laughed nervously.
"Is it that obvious?"
You nodded.
He glanced down at himself and chuckled.
You shifted a little closer, lowering your voice just enough that only he could hear over the bustle of the crew.
"It gets easier."
"It does?"
"Honestly?" You smiled. "It's not that different from wearing a swimsuit."
Joe considered that, swallowing.
"I guess you’re right.”
"And look at it this way."
He raised an eyebrow.
"You're getting paid to spend the day next to a woman in nice underwear. Isn’t it every man's forbidden dream?"
A laugh escaped him before he could stop it.
"When you put it like that..."
"I'd say you're doing pretty well."
You tilted your head, studying him for a second before an amused smile tugged at your lips.
"Besides..." you continued. "Aren't you an actor too?"
Joe nodded, unsure where you were going with this.
“Yeah, I am.”
"So this shouldn't be that hard."
He frowned slightly.
"What shouldn't?"
You leaned back against the headboard, crossing one leg over the other as assistants continued adjusting lights around the set.
"Pretending."
He blinked.
"You just have to pretend I'm the most beautiful woman you've ever seen."
A teasing grin spread across your face.
"And that you're completely crazy about me."
Joe's brain stopped working.
For one dangerous second, every reasonable response abandoned him. He could have laughed or made a joke, playing along. Instead, the truth slipped out before he had the chance to catch it.
"...I don't think I'll have to pretend."
The bustling studio seemed to fade into the background.
You looked at him, your playful smile fading into quiet surprise. Your heart skipped once. For the first time since meeting him, you found yourself searching for the right words.
Joe stared right back as he realized what he’d just admitted. His eyes widened.
"Oh."
His face drained of color before immediately flushing crimson.
“I—"
He rubbed a hand over the back of his neck, letting out a quiet, defeated laugh.
“I didn’t mean… That came out wrong.”
"You know," you said carefully, a smile slowly returning to your face, "you're surprisingly smooth for someone who claimed to be nervous."
Joe groaned.
"I'm really not."
“No?"
He shook his head.
"I've just accidentally confessed to having a crush on the world's biggest supermodel within the first fifteen minutes of meeting her."
"Relax," you said, your voice warm. "I promise I don't bite."
"I wasn't worried about that."
"No?"
"I was mostly worried I'd make a complete idiot of myself."
"And how's that going?"
He sighed dramatically.
"Still evaluating."
You laughed, surprised at how easy it was to tease him. There wasn't an ounce of arrogance in him. No carefully rehearsed charm. Just honesty, wrapped in awkwardness.
And it was... refreshing.
An assistant appeared beside the bed.
"We're ready for the first setup."
The director clapped his hands together.
"Alright, you two."
He gestured toward the mattress.
"Forget the camera."
Joe climbed onto the bed, instinctively leaving a respectful distance between yourselves.
The director immediately grimaced.
"No, no, no."
He waved a hand.
"I said you're a couple in love."
A few members of the crew chuckled.
"You've been together for years," he continued. “You should be comfortable with each other. I don't want fake poses, I want familiarity. You should be completely wrapped up in each other and don't keep your distance as if the other person were contagious.”
Joe shifted awkwardly.
"You," the man pointed at him, "move closer."
Joe followed the instructions but he moved barely an inch.
The director sighed.
"Closer."
Another inch.
You looked down at the empty space, then back at him. You bit back a smile.
"Joe."
He looked at you.
“Remember what I told you before? I don’t bite.”
A laugh rippled through the crew.
His ears turned scarlet.
"Come here."
Without waiting, you closed the remaining distance yourself until your shoulder brushed his.
His entire body went rigid for half a heartbeat.
You felt it immediately.
"You okay?" you whispered.
He nodded once.
"Breathing?"
"...Trying."
A quiet laugh escaped you.
"You're thinking too much."
"I know."
"Stop trying to pose."
"What do I do then?"
You looked at him.
"Just be with me. Enjoy the moment.”
He let out a slow breath.
The tension gradually left his shoulders, his posture softening. Without thinking, his knee brushed yours. Neither of you moved away.
"There," the director called from behind the camera. "That's already better."
He began shooting.
"You," he said, pointing toward you, "look at him."
You did.
"And Joe..."
Joe turned toward you.
"...look at her like she's the only person in the room."
That part, surprisingly, required no acting at all.
The camera and everything else disappeared from his mind.
The crew.
The lights.
The dozens of people watching.
None of it seemed to exist anymore.
All he could see were your eyes. They were even prettier up close, bright with amusement, but softer now. Curious. As if you were studying him just as carefully.
You held his gaze for a beat longer. There was something disarmingly sincere about the way he looked at you. Not hungry or performative. Simply... captivated. It made your stomach flutter in a way you hadn't expected.
"Joe," the director instructed quietly, "lift your hand and caress her.”
Joe hesitated.
"May I?" he asked, almost under his breath, making sure only you could hear.
The question caught you off guard. Other men would have simply done it.
You smiled.
"You don't have to ask."
"I'd rather."
Something warm bloomed in your chest and you gave him the smallest nod.
Slowly, almost cautiously, he reached up and tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear. His fingertips barely brushed your skin.
He leaned closer. Close enough that he caught the faint scent of your perfume — vanilla and jasmine — and your lips were only inches from his ear.
Your breath caught almost imperceptibly.
It felt strangely private despite the crowded studio.
The director stepped closer, watching the monitor.
"This is good," he said. “But it can be better. I want the moment right before a kiss."
Joe's heartbeat lurched.
"Not the kiss itself," the director clarified.
"The anticipation."
He looked between the two of you.
"That little hesitation where neither person knows who's going to close the distance first."
You exchanged a quick glance. Then, slowly, you lowered your hand to the collar of his Calvin Klein briefs' waistband, stopping just at the elastic. You felt him him tense beneath your touch.
"There it is again."
"...What?"
"You freeze every time I touch you."
His laugh came out somewhere between amused and defeated.
"Can you blame me?"
"Maybe a little."
"I've got the world's most beautiful woman standing five inches away from me."
"Four."
"What?"
"You said five."
You deliberately leaned a fraction closer.
"Now it's four."
Joe swallowed.
"I'm not sure that's helping."
"I wasn't trying to help."
You held his gaze for another heartbeat before smiling.
“Cut! That was perfect!”
Joe blinked, as if waking from a trance.
"So... was that acceptable acting?"
You looked at him, unable to stop smiling.
"I don't know."
You let the silence linger just long enough to make him wonder.
"I wasn't paying attention to the acting.”
-
By the time the last shot wrapped, the studio looked nothing like it had that morning.
The lights that had bathed the set in soft, golden hues were being switched off one by one. Crew members moved briskly across the room, rolling up cables, carrying light stands back into storage cases, folding blankets that had been scattered across the bed for the final takes.
The illusion of a cozy apartment slowly disappeared, revealing the soundstage beneath it.
You stood near the monitor, thanking the director and the photographer for the day. Then, your assistant handed you a bottle of water, while you already discussed tomorrow's schedule.
Joe watched from across the room.
I should probably go, he thought.
He'd already thanked everyone. He’d shaken hands and changed back into his jeans and a faded navy sweatshirt, his tote bag hanging loosely over one shoulder, his metro card turning absently between his fingers.
He was ready to go.
Instead, he was still there. His eyes drifted toward you almost involuntarily.
You were laughing at something your assistant had said, your smile as effortless now as it had been the first time you'd walked over to introduce yourself.
God, you were stunning.
Somehow, over the course of a single day, you'd gone from the world's most intimidating supermodel to someone he genuinely didn't want to say goodbye to.
He rubbed the back of his neck.
Just ask her, he thought.
It couldn’t be so difficult, after all. He’d done it several times before. And yet he had never felt so nervous before, not even when he had to get on stage to perform in front of thousands of people.
Can I...
No, too formal.
Would you maybe...
Worse.
He sighed under his breath.
"You look like you're rehearsing a speech."
Joe startled.
His agent stood beside him with an amused smile.
"I have no idea what you're talking about."
She glanced toward you.
"Mhm."
Then back at him.
"If you don't ask, someone else will."
Joe followed her gaze.
"What?"
She shrugged.
"She's gorgeous, funny, and she actually spent the entire day making sure you didn't have a nervous breakdown."
"...Thanks for reminding me."
"I'm serious."
She nudged his shoulder.
"Go."
Before he could talk himself out of it again, his feet were already carrying him across the studio.
You noticed him almost immediately.
"Hey."
"Hey."
For a second, neither of you spoke, the comfortable silence surprising both of you. Joe didn't look away. His eyes stayed on yours with a quiet sincerity that made it impossible to tell whether he was trying to memorize the moment or simply afraid that looking away might break it.
"So..." you smiled.
"So."
"You survived the day."
“Thanks to you."
You laughed softly.
"I told you it would get easier."
"You were right."
"I usually am."
"I've noticed."
He smiled, shifting his weight, gripping the strap of his bag a little tighter.
He knew it. This was the moment.
Either ask or spend the next six months wondering what would've happened if he had.
He took a slow breath. "I was actually..."
He stopped.
You waited patiently.
"...I was wondering something."
"Okay."
His gaze dropped briefly to the floor before finding yours again.
"I know we've literally only known each other for a day..."
He let out a nervous laugh.
"And I know there's a very real possibility that I'm about to embarrass myself one last time."
You folded your arms loosely, unable to hide your smile.
“Uhm, this sounds interesting. Go on, I’m listening."
He smiled despite himself.
"I was wondering if..."
Another pause.
"...if you'd maybe want to get coffee sometime."
His words came out almost apologetically.
“No cameras this time."
He smiled.
“Or no one telling me where to stand or what to do."
You raised an eyebrow.
"No Calvin Klein underwear either?"
He laughed, the tension breaking instantly.
"Definitely not."
"That's a shame."
He eyebrows lifted.
“I think they looked really good on you."
A faint blush crept back onto his cheeks.
“Thank you, I guess.”
You tilted your head, amused by how easily he still blushed.
"I mean it."
Joe looked down for a second, shaking his head with a quiet laugh.
"I don't think I've blushed this much in my entire life."
“I find that pretty adorable.”
He groaned, covering his face for a second.
"Please don't make it worse."
"Too late.”
"...Way too late."
For a moment, all you could hear was the muffled chatter of the crew dismantling the set around you.
Joe rubbed the back of his neck for the hundredth time, his confidence wavering just enough to make you smile.
He cleared his throat. “Is that a yes then? Would you like to get coffee with me sometime?"
You looked at him for a beat, pretending to think about it.
"Mmm..."
Joe's stomach dropped.
"It's completely okay if you'd rather not. You don't have to—“
"What if we skipped the coffee?"
He looked up immediately, blinking.
"...Skipped it?"
“We could go to dinner instead.”
For a second, he simply stared at you. Then a slow, disbelieving smile spread across his face.
“Yeah. Yeah, I’d love that.” He let out a small laugh, still trying to catch up with the conversation. “Dinner sounds… perfect. When —”
“Are you free now?”
His eyes widened, visibly confused.
“Now?" He repeated. “Like right now?”
He glanced around the studio, momentarily convinced he'd misunderstood.
You nodded as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
“I don’t know about you but I’m starving. I’ve been thinking about food since we wrapped the last shot.”
"Honestly? Same."
“I could really go for a burger.”
You paused for a moment, considering it.
"Or pizza. Actually, I could probably eat both.”
He laughed, the sound warm and effortless.
"Now you're making me even hungrier."
"We've had a long day. I think we both deserved it.”
You looked at him expectantly as he was trying to process the fact that the woman he'd spent the entire day convincing himself was completely out of his league had just asked him out.
"I know a place," he said at last, a little more confidently this time. "It's about ten minutes from here."
“Good?"
A grin spread across his face.
"The best burgers in Manhattan."
You narrowed your eyes playfully.
“Careful. I take food very seriously.”
“Then you won’t be disappointed."
"What if I don’t like them?"
He pretended to think for a second.
"Then you get to pick the next place."
"Look at you," you teased. "Already assuming there's going to be a next time."
His smile softened.
"Well..."
He shrugged.
"I'm hoping there will be."
You smiled and gestured toward the studio exit.
"Lead the way. Let’s find out if you’re right.”
For the first time all day, Joe walked ahead of you without a trace of hesitation. Together, you made your way through the apartment and down the hallway, exchanging the occasional smile as members of the crew called out their goodbyes behind you.
When the building's front doors finally swung open, the warm evening air greeted you, carrying with it the familiar sounds of Manhattan settling into the night.
Joe couldn't help smiling to himself. That morning, he'd shown up on set terrified that he'd spend the day trying not to embarrass himself in front of the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen. Instead, he was walking out of it with you beside him, on your way to dinner, feeling the luckiest man alive.
Neither of you knew it yet but this would be the first dinner of many.
-
Feel free to send me other requests. I’d love to turn them into reality ❤️
♡ Joe Keery / Djo Two Worlds One Choice- Masterlist ♡
Chapter 1 — The Library
Chapter 2 — The Moment He Turned Back
Chapter 3 — Art, Armor, and the Almost Moment
Chapter 4 — The Kiss
Chapter 5- Electric Lady
Chapter 6- The Line We Didn't Cross
Chapter 7-Halfway to Something
Chapter 8- Rooftop Mornings
Chapter 9- Figure you out
Chapter 10- Half Life
Chapter 11- The Point Of No Return
Chapter 12- Mutual Future
Chapter 13- Change
Chapter 14-Back On You
Chapter 15- On and On
Chapter 16- End Of Beginning
Chapter 17- Awake
Chapter 18- The Space Between Screens
Chapter 19- Keep Me In Your Orbit
Chapter 20- Star Chart
Chapter 21- Chateau
Chapter 22- Half In The Bubble Half In The Noise
Chapter 23- Sunlight, Paper, and Him
Chapter 24- Caught in Your Reverb
Chapter 25- The Moment Bends Sideways
Chapter 26- Fool
Chapter 27- For You
Chapter 28- Potion
Chapter 29- Gap Tooth Smile
Chapter 30- What’s a Good Life?
Chapter 31- The Sound Of Staying
Chapter 32- You Stole My Best Friend
Chapter 33- Streamers and Sunlight
Chapter 34- One Last Choice
Description: she spent two years loving him and a year trying to convince herself she was over it, until a weekend home from college dumps her right back into his orbit her little brother's best friend turns out to be Mike Wheeler, which means the boy behind the counter at Family Video is the same one who let her walk out of his driveway without a word to stop her and every time she gets close to the truth behind his year of silence, it dissolves into the same maddening line, “it's not what you think, I just can't tell you”leaving her to piece together a version of events out of half-confessions and misread glances in a town too small to hide anything for long. Secrets kept to protect rather than to hurt, lies told out of pride and fear, and a past that refuses to stay buried.
Warnings: 18+,smut to come along, so much angst, exes to enemies to enemies with benefits to something more, self confidence issues, allusions to unrequited love, if you love them let them go, mentions of cheating, mentions of bullying . Takes place during season 4 Steve is a yearning mess
Steve Harrington x Fem!reader
٠࣪⭑
Chapter one | Static on the line
Chapter two | Nothing good happens after midnight
Chapter three | The version you’re allowed to have
Chapter four | This is exactly why
Chapter five | He knew exactly where to aim
Chapter six | The whole impossible shape of it
Chapter seven | Close Enough to Almost
Chapter eight | The Same Weapon He Used
Chapter nine | Who’s crying now?
Chapter ten | Pretending Costs Nothing Until Morning
summary: go through an all consuming situationship between you & “king” steve harrington. you’ve always had a crush on steve, and finally get a piece of him, but steve wont commit to you. his pride and ego as “king steve” will always matter most to him.
c/w: porn with a plot 18+, possessiveness, king steve persona, jealousy, insecurity, dom!steve, shy!reader, dirty talk, degradation, miscommunication, toxic relationship, angst and fluff, arguing, manipulation, steve wont commit.
౨⋆ৎ inspired by august by taylor swift ౨⋆ৎ
prologue - one of the girls
chapter one - in case you’d call
chapter two - twisted in bedsheets
chapter three - beneath the sun
chapter four - so much for summer love
chapter five - i remember thinking i had you
chapter six - for the hope of it all
a/n: i am soo excited about this! ive gotten a few requests for a part two of my fic “one of the girls” and decided to make it into a series! ill be updating it here as i go, you’ll be able to find this post on my masterlist. if you’d like to be tagged as i post, comment here! you can expect the first chapter within the next two weeks. thank you sm <3
summary: your breakup with steve has been rough, and it only gets worse at night without him next to you.
warnings: angst, mentions of arguing, nightmares, steve and reader are both avoidants, cursing,
word count: 5.5k
In a reality where you fought inter-dimensional monsters and befriended a young girl with telekinesis, you would think there’s nothing worse than dealing with that.
But it’s pretty easy to say going through a breakup with Steve Harrington is infinitely worse.
You’re standing behind the counter of Family Video, eyes fixated on a small piece of fuzz swirling around the air. You’re trying really hard to ignore the customer flirting with your ex boyfriend ten feet away from you.
You’re grateful he doesn’t seem to be reciprocating her advances, but its probably because you’re nearby. Steve really grew out of being an asshole and flirting with her in front of you would put him right back at the top of the official asshole list.
It’s been a month since your breakup and just know whenever someone says it gets easier with time, they’re lying. The first week was spent on Nancy’s couch, surrounded by tissues and a family sized tub of ice cream. You called in sick from work the whole week and cried enough tears to fill an entire ocean.
The second week, she forced you to socialize more. She was considerate enough to start small – an invitation to have breakfast with her and Jonathan. The opportunity to take Mike and El to the new skating rink. Max spent some time with you too but she didn’t push you to talk about it, she just sat with you through four different movies. All horror, there was absolutely no room for romance or comedy.
By the third week, you really had to pull it together. There was no word from Steve and it was probably better that way. Eddie, Mike and Lucas did all the work to get your things from Steve’s house and pack it up to bring to Nancy’s. You really didn’t want to move into her apartment but it was a stepping stone after leaving Steve’s.
Looking back on it now, the breakup was .. well, it was stupid. It was a cumulation of arguing and stress and lack of space all in one. Petty arguments over chores and snide remarks about each others habits. It was something that should’ve been solved with one conversation but you were both equally stubborn and when you angrily shouted maybe you needed space, he didn’t argue.
Still, you missed him. You really fucking missed him.
And the worst part is he seemed to be doing perfectly fine.
Dustin swore he wasn’t taking sides but you haven’t seen much of him these past couple weeks. Whenever the kids hung around you, he and Robin were both missing and Mike let it slip they were at Steve’s. It’s not like you blamed them, you were all friends but Steve was their best friend.
Now, it’s day 34 without him and you’re wishing the ground will swallow you whole and save you from hearing this girl drape herself all over him.
“It’s just so good to see you, Steve,” She says. She wears a wide smile on her face, one palm resting on his bicep. Steve doesn’t seem to mind, he just fiddles with the tape in his hand and smiles back.
“Yeah, you too, Stacey,” He responds.
Stacey.
He never mentioned a Stacey when you two were together and now suddenly they’re a pair of good friends who wish they kept up with each other over the years.
You try not to stare but then she grabs his forearm and snags the pen he had clipped to his vest. Your stomach twists when she begins to write on the skin of his arm. Steve watches her, his brows pulled together and when she finishes, she raises his arm to her mouth – she presses her red lipstick covered lips against his skin, flicking her eyes back up to his and leaves a kiss mark.
You physically feel sick.
She removes her mouth, a quiet pop sound fills the store. You can see now she’s written her phone number on him, the kiss mark a cute little signature. Her thumb brushes over the lipstick stain and smiles up at him again.
“Call me tonight,” Her voice is low and sultry. Steve glances at you and when he sees you already looking, he swallows hard.
You can feel your eyes prick with tears and tear your gaze away from him. Your throat feels tight, you clench your jaw to keep yourself from crying.
Thankfully, a different customer approaches the counter with their own tapes to check out. You clear your throat and take a deep breath, then plaster on the best customer service smile you can muster.
“Find everything okay, Mrs. Langston?” You ask, typing in her information as you complete her sale. The older woman is easy to talk to and maybe for a few seconds, you’re able to forget all about Steve and Stacey.
You’re unsure how the conversation ends but when you hand the receipt to her, Stacey’s gone and Steve is carefully approaching the counter opposite of you.
You bid your goodbyes to Mrs. Langston and busy yourself with cleaning up the papers near the register. There’s nobody left in the store except you and him. Tension fills the air quickly and you can feel him looking at you.
You hope he doesn’t try to make conversation about Stacey. Aside from things related to work, you haven’t spoken since the night you broke up. If he tries now, you’re almost certain you’d burst into tears.
If he’s moving on – even though it’s only been 34 days – you won’t stop him, and you definitely won’t beg him not to.
“Hey, uh listen,” Steve’s voice breaks the awkward silence. “About Stacey, I just want you to know -,”
“You don’t have to explain anything to me,” You cut him off quickly. Your back is still turned to him and you’ve re-piled the same stack of papers four times now to look busy.
“I know, but I want to.”
You freeze then. Steve notices and you hear the sound of his footsteps coming closer. He approaches you carefully, like he knows you’re seconds away from running away, and stops a few steps behind you. He’s close enough you can feel the warmth from his body.
He says your name softly but you still don’t turn. “I’m sorry you saw that,”
Sorry you saw that.
He’s apologizing it for happening in front of you, not that it happened in the first place. Because he’s not sorry. Clearly, the breakup and space has been good for him and while you’ve been a walking zombie, he’s been moving on.
You swallow hard and bite your lip. “It’s fine, Steve.”
He moves again. This time to stand beside you and his head bends to try and catch your eyes. You keep your eyes trained on the stack of papers and pray he’ll drop it.
Before he has a chance to say anything, the bell at the top of the door sings and the door swings up. You’re more than thankful for the distraction and you look up to greet the customer but you’re met with Eddie, Max and El.
Max and El are talking amongst themselves but Eddie’s eyes are stuck on you. You don’t miss the mischievous glint in his eyes as he looks between you and Steve.
“Look at my two favorite Family Video employees,” He sings and approaches the counter. Max and El follow.
“Hey guys,” Steve greets them, but you can feel his eyes still on you. Eddie clearly notices as well and smirks at you.
“We’re here to pick up the tapes Robin put on hold yesterday. Y’know, movie night and all,”
“Right, I’ll go get those,” You say quickly, taking any opportunity to get as far away from Steve as possible. You miss the way his eyes sadden but he doesn’t stop you.
As you scurry to the break room, Max and El trail behind you.
“You’re coming tonight, right?” Max asks suspiciously. You send her a sideways glance as you fish around the room for where Robin hid the tapes.
You already know your answer – no, you will not be going because movie night is always held at Steve’s house and you can’t bear the thought of being there again so soon. But you haven’t told anybody you weren’t going. Honestly, you planned to just skip out on the whole thing without a word. Clearly, Max knows you well enough to know that’s exactly what you intended.
“I don’t think so, Max. I’m not feeling great today,”
She sees right through you. “Bullshit.”
You scowl at her. “Language, Mayfield.”
“You feel fine, you just don’t want to be around Steve,”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” You wave her off, and kneel to the ground in front of a crate of old tapes.
“Why don’t you two get back together?” El asks. You look up from where you’re shuffling through tapes. “Max and Lucas break up and get back together all the time. Even me and Mike have done it before. He still likes you,”
Her oblivious nature is cute and you can feel yourself soften. “Steve and I are a little different from you guys, El. And I don’t think he wants to get back together.”
“That’s bullshit again!” Max exclaims.
“Max!” You groan and finally find the tapes Robin hid. Rising to your feet, you head back up to the front. “It’s just movie night, it’s not a big deal, alright?”
You push through the beaded curtain, the girls following suit and nobody misses Max’s sour face.
“It is a big deal! Eddie, will you tell her it’s a big deal?”
Eddie pulls himself away from the conversation with Steve and looks at you three. “What’s a big deal?”
“Nothing.” You say.
“She doesn’t wanna come tonight,” Max says at the same time.
Eddie makes a face. “Why not? It’s the third time you’ve bailed on movie night.”
Max gasps, realization dawning on her. “It is the third time!”
You glare at him. Damn him for keeping count.
“Can you two relax? I just feel sick today,” You grumble, punching in Robin’s phone number into the computer.
“Bull.Shit.”
“Maxine Mayfield, I’m gonna wash your mouth out with soap!” You threaten, a finger pointed in her direction. She rolls her eyes but before she can respond, Steve speaks up.
“What’s wrong? Is it your head?” He asks. You look up at him and immediately regret it. He’s looking down at you with those chocolate brown eyes and they’re swirling with concern. “Have you been sleeping okay?”
You still for a moment because no, you haven’t been sleeping okay. Actually, you haven’t been sleeping at all.
“I’m fine,” You say quickly. “Can all of you relax? It’s just movie night,”
Steve ignores you. “But you said you were sick. What’s bothering you?”
“See?” El speaks up. “I told you he still liked -,”
“Okay, I’ll go!” You cut her off. She was one word away from completely embarrassing you. “Can everybody lay off now?”
Max and El look pleased enough, Eddie as well but Steve’s look of concern doesn’t disappear. Still, he doesn’t press you on it and you’re grateful.
The rest of your shift is spent carefully avoiding Steve and taking every opportunity to help a customer or stock shelves. You’re painfully aware of how he keeps an eye on you the whole time but he seems to respect your wishes to not talk.
By the time 8PM rolls around, the store is cleaned and ready to be locked up. Steve waits behind you as you lock the door before you both make your way through the parking lot. Three steps into the same direction, you realize he parked right next to you.
Thick tension surrounds you, and you’re silently wishing the birds chirping will be loud enough to make him not talk.
“Are you sure everything’s okay?” Steve’s voice is low and hesitant. Your heart pinches at that soft tone he carries – it’s something you got so used to but have been deprived of for the last month.
You nod without looking up at him, and pull the strap of your bag closer to your chest. “Everything’s fine,”
He looks torn between asking again or being quiet completely, and he chooses to be quiet.
This is the most you’ve spoken to him since the breakup and it’s even harder than you thought it would be. It’s taking every ounce of self control not to throw yourself into his arms and beg him to hold you. To come back to you and make everything better.
Your ego wins the battle. He didn’t fight for you to stay and hasn’t fought to bring you back either. If anything, he’s proving he prefers being apart from you.
You’ll get there, with time. Hopefully.
You make it to your car and surprising to you, Steve jogs ahead of you to open your car door. You finally look up at him and see him already looking down at you – he has one hand clutched around the handle and the other resting atop the door.
It’s hard looking at him, especially doing something to gentle like opening your door for no reason. Based on the look in his eyes, you’re sure he can see the pain in your eyes.
“Thanks.” You mumble softly and slide into the seat. He doesn’t shut it right away, so you glance up at him.
He takes a deep breath and moves to stand between the car and the open door. Carefully, he bends down to kneel so he’s eye level with you.
Gently, he says your name. “I don’t want you to miss out on things because of me,” He says and your heart sinks.
“I’m not,” You say instinctively. It was a lie and he sees right through you.
“If you’re uncomfortable being around me, I’ll skip out on tonight,”
You sit up, ready to argue that it’s his house and they’re his friends – he shouldn’t have to worry about your feelings. It’s not his responsibility anymore.
But he continues before you have a chance.
“I can find something else to do, it’s really not a problem.”
You frown at his words and your mind immediately goes back to Stacey.
He didn’t say he’d try to be around you, or that he won’t let it get weird – he was offering to leave completely. Maybe this was his way of finding an excuse to go out with her.
Your eyes flick to his arm and you see the faint trace of her phone number still on his skin. He follows your gaze and drops his arm from where it rests on your door.
“I didn’t mean it like that.” He says quickly, almost defensively.
Maybe he didn’t. Or maybe he did.
Truthfully, there was no way for you to know. And it wasn’t like you had the right to know either. He wasn’t yours anymore.
When you look back up at him, your face is blank, eyes void.
“You can do whatever you’d like, I won’t make it awkward.” You say simply and Steve’s eyes sadden.
He can tell exactly what you’re doing – steeling yourself off from him and he hates it.
Before he gets the chance, you turn away from him. After sliding the key into the ignition, your hands curl around the steering wheel and you look straight ahead. “I already promised Max and El. I don’t want to let them down,”
He looks at you while you avoid looking at him again. From beside you, you see him nod before standing upright and shutting your door softly.
You don’t waste a second before you’re peeling out of the lot and making your way home, all without even glancing at him again.
Whatever he chooses to do will be on him and has nothing to do with you.
You want to cry – you can feel it about to happen – but you’re so tired of it. Crying and wallowing hasn’t helped you these past few weeks and it’s not about to start now.
Even then, you’re debating just breaking your promise to the girls and staying home. At least then you wouldn’t know if Steve decides to stay home or go do whatever he has planned with whoever.
But you miss your friends, and you’re tired of sitting on Nancy’s couch alone all night and tormenting yourself with your own thoughts.
When you make it home – Nancy’s home – you drag yourself into her apartment and avoid all her questions about how your day was, how it was seeing Steve, if you’re okay.
You give short and simple answers, making sure to skip over the Stacey incident, and tell her you’re going to shower before you leave. She’s happy you’re at least going tonight.
By the time you finish, you showered and changed into more comfortable clothes. You managed to talk yourself off the metaphorical cliff – you’ll stay for one movie and drive separately so you can make an early escape.
You haven’t figured out a way to feel normal once you step back inside his house and when you park on the curb, that feeling of dread consumes you.
You turn the car off but stay sitting for a few seconds as you stare at the house. A month ago, it was your house – your home. Now you’re knocking for someone to let you in. It’s a saddening difference and it just makes you regret coming even more.
You’re five seconds from starting the car and leaving before Nancy knocks on your window, Jonathan next to her. She urges you to get out and you can see the look on her face – the one that’s reading into your every move and it’s obvious she’s worried.
So you gather your things and pull yourself together.
Robin is the one to let you guys in and you glance behind you to see if Steve’s car was in the driveway.
Relief sits heavy in your chest when you see the maroon car.
You follow behind Nancy wordlessly but when you see El peak her head around the corner, Mike lingering next to her, it’s hard to fight your smile – because you really did miss them.
She rushes to you, practically dragging you further into the house and to where she claimed her spot on the floor.
Max and Lucas have their own setup next to El and Mike’s and they’re completely engrossed in their own conversation. Dustin has taken over the recliner on the other side of the room, and Eddie takes the end of the couch closest to him.
Nancy and Jonathan settle into the longer couch, and Robin sits on the obnoxiously big beanbag chair she begged Steve to buy her for Christmas last year.
You still haven’t seen Steve, and you wonder if he did choose to skip out and hide in his room.
You take the chance to look further around the living room. It almost looks like nothing has changed. The furniture is still set up the same way, the color palette is still warm and full.
The posed family pictures he once had with his parents are still replaced with pictures of the group across the room. But when you continue looking around, your heart sinks.
Because all the pictures he had of just you and him are still there.
A picture of you and him at the beach sits on the coffee table. One of you two hugging at graduation hangs on the wall beside the TV. Another one of just you, smiling up at the camera at your birthday two years ago is sitting front and center on the fireplace.
Your throat burns and you feel it begin to tighten. You never really let yourself think of the possibility that he hasn’t moved on either. Leaving of group photos was one thing, but the ones of you both? The one of only you?
It’s all too much and it’s slowly breaking your resolve. It’s only proving the fact that the breakup was all for nothing and if you weren’t so damn prideful, you could’ve fixed it.
Suddenly, Steve emerges from the kitchen with his hands full. He’s holding three different bowls of popcorn and bags of chips and candy tucked into his arms.
Your eyes meet and for just a second, he halts. He looks surprised you actually showed and you don’t blame him. Still, he gives you a half smile and you try your best to mirror it.
Dustin jumps from his spot on the seat and makes grabby hands at the snacks Steve holds. Eddie leans up and helps pass them out and you watch Steve swat Dustin’s hands away as he tries to steal everything.
Beside you, El talks your ear off and you’re eager to welcome the distraction. Otherwise, you would’ve spent the whole night staring at Steve.
Before long, Robin starts the movie and Mike begins to argue with Dustin about being quiet. There’s bickering, and laughing, and food being thrown but it feels nice. Happy even.
Steve ends up settling almost directly behind you on the couch. His elbow sits on the arm rest to his left and your back is directly against the foot of the couch. His legs are almost touching your shoulder. Neither of you say anything.
But even though you’re having a good time and aren’t completely regretting coming, you’re painfully aware of how close Steve is. You can feel the warmth radiating from his skin, the smell of his cologne is almost all you can focus on. Your hand twitches in your lap – begging you to hold onto his ankle and lean your head onto his thigh.
And as you watch the movie, your eyes keep finding the picture of you two at graduation. Steve has you pulled back into his chest, his arms iron clad around you. He’s resting his chin on your shoulder and you’re holding both your diplomas up at the camera. Your shared smiles gleam back at you and it’s enough to make you smile in real time.
It’s also enough to make you sad all over again.
Because it’s not your reality anymore, and you’re not sure it ever will be.
Somehow you end up staying through three movies. By the time credits roll on the last one, everyone is asleep. Mike’s leaning against the wall, his neck bent in a way that’ll leave him with a cramp in the morning, and El’s head resting in his lap.
Max and Lucas are sprawled along the floor across from them, one of his arms tucked under her head. Dustin has his face smushed into a pillow, one arm and one leg hanging off the side of the chair. Eddie is slumped beside him, drool pooling at his mouth.
Robin is curled into a ball on her beanbag chair, quietly snoring. Nancy and Jonathan are curled into each other on their side of the couch. You’re too scared to turn and look at Steve, but he hasn’t moved a muscle in an hour so you’re sure he’s asleep too.
It’s the perfect time to slip out undetected.
Carefully, you push yourself off the floor. It’s a mess around the room and even in a rush, you feel bad just leaving things the way they are. So you grab the bowls and snacks from the coffee table and move towards the kitchen.
“Let me help,”
Steve’s voice startles you so much that you drop the bags of candy to the floor, your palm covering your mouth to minimize the scream ready to slip out.
His eyes widen and he smiles. “Sorry, sorry,”
You exhale and it’s hard not to smile back.
He doesn’t look like he’d been asleep at all, which means he probably just sat there thinking the same thing you were. His hair is a little messy, a few pieces covering his forehead and you’re itching to fix it.
He leans down to pick up the bags and you go back to picking up the cups and bowls. You’re both careful not to wake anyone else as you carry everything to the kitchen.
It’s domestic – the way you fall back into rhythm of cleaning. Steve takes care of the dirty dishes and you begin putting the snacks back into the pantry.
When everything is cleaned, you’re unsure what to do next. At first, you figured you’d clean and leave without having to talk to anyone but now, you’re left alone with only him and he’s looking at you like that again and it’s hard to think properly.
You stand in the middle of the kitchen, facing each other. He has one hand resting on the counter, tapping his finger on the granite. Your bottom lip is pulled between your teeth.
“I, uh, I should go,” You finally say.
“You don’t have to,” He replies easily. “It’s late, you shouldn’t be driving right now,”
You glance at the clock on the stove and it reads back 2:19AM.
He was sweet for offering but it wasn’t far and the last thing you wanted was to prolong the inevitable awkwardness that would come in the morning.
Steve notices your apprehension easily. “You can take the guest room and leave first thing in the morning,”
Your head is screaming at you to say no thank you. To bid him a farewell and get home as quickly as possible. Your heart, however, is begging you to accept and take the chance to be close to him – even just for one night.
And you’re sick of sleeping on Nancy’s couch.
“Okay,” You nod.
His face lights up, a smile covering his mouth. “Okay.” He repeats.
Quietly, he shuts off the lights and TV before setting off upstairs. You follow behind him and when you make it down the hall, you both stop in front of his bedroom door. He turns around to face you.
“Uh, guest rooms right there,” He points at the door across the hall. “Bathroom is just down the hall. Second door on the -,”
“I know,” You cut him off and he nods quickly.
“Right, yeah. Of course,”
It’s awkward to say the least, but it’s not unkind. It’s nice to hear him talk again, even if it’s just telling you where things were.
You stare at each other for a moment. The clock in the hall ticks loudly and you wonder if he can hear how loud your heart is beating.
You break first. “Goodnight, Steve.”
He gives you a soft smile. “Goodnight.”
You enter the room and seconds later, hear his bedroom door click shut.
The guest bedroom is dull. There’s no pictures along the wall, only a painting of a red Cadillac from the 70s. There’s beige curtains covering the window and a matching beige bedspread on the mattress. There’s a small lamp on the bedside table and a desk on the opposite wall.
It’s a drastic contrast from Steve’s bedroom – especially after you helped get rid of his matching striped curtains and wallpaper.
It feels cold and lonely.
But you climb into bed anyway and do your best to stop thinking about how much better you’d sleep with him next to you.
On the other side of the wall, Steve lays on his own bed and feels the same way. His room hasn’t felt like his room since the day you left and now that he knows you’re so close, he’s using all his strength not to climb into bed with you.
He’s spent the last month trying to convince himself if he let you have some space, things would get better and you’d come back to him. To him, it was never a breakup – just a stupid stepping stone in your relationship.
But as the days passed, you pulled further away from him, and next thing he knew, the boys were coming over and packing up your things. He wanted to fight them on it, actually he tried – but then Mike said it was your idea and suddenly everything felt too real.
Maybe he fucked up so bad you were fed up. He thought about showing up to Nancy’s, thought about begging you to come home, but he didn’t want you to feel cornered. So he backed off.
But then he saw the way you reacted when you saw him with Stacey.
It’s not like it meant anything – it took her writing her number on him to realize she was flirting with him, all because he couldn’t stop staring at you. After he tried to talk to you about it, he spent ten minutes in the bathroom trying to scrub it off his skin. And you saw the remnants stained onto his arm later that night.
He didn’t want you to feel jealous or upset over it, he didn’t plan on ever calling her, but a small part inside of him felt relieved you did feel like that. At least you still felt something for him.
And he knew what you were thinking all night as he watched your eyes filter back to the pictures of you two. He didn’t leave them up to prove something, he just couldn’t stand the thought of taking them down. You would always be his, no matter what.
Still, the argument escalated so quickly because of him and he had to make sure if – when – you came back to him, it was on your terms. He wouldn’t rush you.
So he offered the guest room and hoped that would be the first step into forgiveness.
It’s maybe an hour after he’s climbed into bed when he hears the faint sound of .. crying?
His ears perk up and he leans up on his elbows, turning his head towards the door. He listens for a moment but all he hears is the ticking of the clock.
He thinks he must have imagined it until he hears it again.
It’s still quiet, and easy to miss if he wasn’t already awake, but he can hear it – and it’s familiar.
It’s you.
It’s a cry he’s heard a hundred times over the years. It’s soft, and not the same one that comes from you during a sad movie - it’s fear.
He knows what’s causing it – your nightmares used to be overwhelming but ever since you moved in with him two years ago, they’ve become less frequent. Having him next to you was enough to tether you to reality and comfort you.
But now he hasn’t been there. Have you been dealing with them ever since you left? All the while he’s been making you feel like you should be gone.
His feet are moving before he even has a chance to think – like his body was made with a built in magnetic connected to you. He pulls his door open and pads directly across the hall to your door.
He presses his ear to the door and can hear your crying more clearly. They’re still quiet but they sound more intense now. His hand curls around the handle but then he hesitates.
Should he be the one to comfort you? Should he get Nancy to instead? Would you want him?
When he hears you cry out again, this time louder, he pushes the door open. The light from the hall shines through the doorway and he finds her curled in on yourself, sheets skewed across the bed. He can see you shivering, your brows pulled tight, creasing the beautiful skin of your forehead. He sees your skin is flushed red and your cheeks are stained with tears.
Guilt sits in his chest and without thinking, he’s climbing into bed with you. The mattress dips below his weight and he slides one arm under your head and pulls you from your fetal position so you’re facing him instead. He pulls you into his chest, an arm curled around your shoulders and the other cupping your cheek.
His warmth transfers to you, and as if you were searching for him the entire time, your body instantly relaxes in his hold. Your shaking stops, a soft sigh escapes past your lips, and your hand raises to clutch the fabric of his t-shirt.
You watches the way you bury your face into his chest, the crease between your brows disappears, and he hears the soft melody of your voice.
“Steve..” You don’t say his name as a question – he’s pretty sure you’re still not even awake. It’s relief. Even unconscious, you were given comfort again and you knew with absolute certainty, that comfort was him.
He feels his heart contract in his chest and he tightens his hold on you. “It’s me, baby,” He says softly, lips touching your hairline. “You’re safe, I got you.”
As he holds you in his arms, he knows without an ounce of doubt, he’s never letting go again. Nothing is completely fixed and won’t be overnight but when morning comes, he’s going to tell you exactly this.
He won’t ever let you forget how much he loves you.
When you wake up in the morning, you’re practically shackled to the bed by Steve’s arms. They’re wrapped tightly around your waist and his cheek is resting against the top of your head.
Confusion takes hold of you immediately, but you don’t pull away from his hold. If anything, you burrow yourself deeper into his head but it’s enough to make him stir and groan quietly.
Internally, you’re cursing at yourself for moving even an inch but then his hold tightens around you – if that was even possible. You can feel his head lift from where it rested atop of yours and you hold your breath.
“Hey, you awake?” His morning voice is gruff and it makes your stomach swirl. You hesitate for a second before giving him a timid nod.
“Mhm..”
He pulls his arms apart but only enough to spread his palms over your arms, his thumbs brushing back and forth over your skin.
Silence settles over the room, only the sound of your breathing and the sound of his heart beating in your ear. It feels normal again.
“You were having a nightmare,” Steve says suddenly and your stomach drops. “Last night. That’s why I came in,”
You sigh softly, eyes squeezing shut from embarrassment.
“I’m-I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you up,”
Steve shakes his head quickly. “No, don’t apologize. Seriously.” His tone leaves no room for arguing.
You’re both blanketed in silence again but for the first time in weeks, it’s not uncomfortable. The feeling of his arms around you again, your body tucked perfectly against his – it feels warm and safe and grounding.
“Thank you,” You say quietly, fingers tracing shapes over his shirt covered chest.
“You don’t need to thank me either, baby,”
The pet name slips out so casually and your heart splits in two, but you grip his shirt even tighter. Steve picks up on your reaction and gently cups your face, encouraging you to look up at him.
You’re more than sure you look disgusting – bags under your eyes, and they’re probably puffy from crying in your sleep, cheeks flushed pink, hair a tousled mess – but he doesn’t look at you like you do, even for a second.
Steve looks down at you like you hung the fucking moon and stars. It’s intense enough to have you nearly shying away but he holds you firmly in place.
“I’m sorry about everything,” He says and you blink up at him. “This past month without you has been fucking hell. And seeing you last night, I don’t ever want you to deal with that alone.”
Tears well in your eyes almost immediately and when one slips down your cheek, he swipes it away gently.
“I love you so much and I don’t want to spend even another second without –.” Steve makes a surprise sound when you cut him off by pressing your lips to his.
He recovers quickly, arms pulling you tighter into his chest and kissing you back just as hard. Every ounce of emotion you’ve kept bottled up are poured into this kiss and as he keeps kissing you, he’s gently wiping away the tears falling from your eyes.
When you finally pull away for air, you don’t go far – you rest your forehead against his and smile.
“I don’t want to be without you either.” You whisper softly.
Steve’s smile is bright and he quickly tosses you onto your back before he hovers over you, sweetly attacking your face with more kisses.
You’re giggling against him as his lips extend down to your neck and there’s not a doubt in your mind that you’ve ever been happier and as long as he’s right next to you, you always will be.
summary: dealing with your breakup with steve has been hard and it hurts even worse when you lose the necklace he gave you
warnings: angst, arguing, mentions of canon violence, set during season four, crying, reader is very sad, steve is lowkey avoidant, happy ending!
word count: 5.2k
from jen: i recently just lost one of the most important pieces of jewelry and my heart is broken so this is 100% self indulgent :’)
There was a time your designated spot was shoulder to shoulder, fingers intertwined, with Steve and now you stand on complete opposite sides of the room without a single second or eye contact – it almost felt like a piece of you had be taken away.
Actually, that’s how you felt ever since the breakup.
Your relationship with Steve came almost suddenly. You were in the same grade, you practically grew up together, but never actually interacted in school. Until senior year and he broke up with Nancy and the kid you babysat ran to you for help after his new pet alien ate his cat.
A strange friendship formed between you, Dustin and Steve but it was something real. Even when the younger kid wasn’t around, you and Steve became glued to each other. Where he went, you followed and when you moved, he moved.
What started as platonic quickly morphed into romantic.
He’d changed so much from the popular boy in high school and became someone softer. He still had that same charm and personality, but he tried to let go of all the superficial things he used to cling to.
A part of you felt like maybe he’d never get over Nancy but after those months together, everything else except you and him disappeared. The two of you were together for eight months before you both started working at Scoops and then you were thrown into a whirlwind of more aliens and evil Russian soldiers.
Fighting off Demodogs with Steve at the junkyard and in the tunnels was scary enough – more scary than either of you would actually admit – but watching Steve get nearly beaten half to death and taking a few blows of your own? That was different.
You still had a scar across your cheekbone from the back of a guard’s gun after you mouthed off one too many times.
What should’ve been a time when the two of you really leaned on each other, almost like a trauma bond, Steve vanished. It was small at first – he would cancel on plans, he started calling less and less, he’d give you vague excuses for his sudden absence. You could feel it in your bones, the way he was slowly pulling away.
At first, you thought maybe he was just having a tough time moving past things. After all, he’d gotten the brunt of the soldiers anger and he had the bruises to prove it. But it wasn’t just temporary space he wanted and two weeks after the Battle of Starcourt, Steve broke up with you. Over the phone.
Devastated couldn’t even begin to describe how you felt. You tried to reason with him, even begged him not to do it, but he was firm. He insisted you two weren’t right for each other and there was ‘no point in prolonging the inevitable.’ He was clear in what he didn’t say – he didn’t love you anymore and honestly, you weren’t sure he ever did.
Almost a year had passed since the breakup and Steve has made sure to stay no contact. The only time you’ve ever spoke after was when he returned your things from his house and asked for his own. The only thing you were left with was the heart shaped locket he gifted you for your birthday a few months after dating.
Even though it tore you apart, you respected his decision and didn’t try to push him. You kept your distance from him but in turn, that meant distance from everyone.
Until a few days ago.
Max and Dustin showed up on your doorstep, scared and out of breath – rushing to beg for help about Eddie Munson and the newly deceased Chrissy Cunningham. There wasn’t a chance you could say no.
So you drove them to Family Video and for the first time in months, you were around Steve again. At the sight of him for the first time in months, your fingers clutched the locket still around your neck for some sort of comfort. But even in the same room, he wouldn’t look at you. He hardly acknowledged your presence. It cracked your already broken heart even more.
You guys have spent the last couple of days tracking Eddie down and then listening to his recount of Chrissy’s death. Your stomach turns at the confirmation that it wasn’t a regular run of the mill murder and instead, you’re all now sucked back into monsters and chaos.
Things began to feel really scary when Nancy’s assistant turned up dead in the same manner. Not only were you faced with some inter-dimensional psycho, but also had to deal with what looked like Steve having feelings for Nancy. You didn’t miss the way he tried to follow her on her lead or the disappointment he felt when Robin took his place instead. The locket around your neck felt like a weight around you instead of providing comfort.
Everything worsened when Max connected the dots between the latest victims and confessed she’s been dealing with her own symptoms. The already high stakes raised even higher at the risk of Max being in danger.
Now, the entire group gathers around the living room of the abandoned Creel home as everyone begins to split off into groups.
You’re standing off to the far side of the room. It feels weird being back here – everyone seems to have their own reason for being here. Nancy wants to find justice for her assistant, Dustin wants to clear Eddie’s name, Max needs to survive and Lucas is hellbent on making sure that happens, and Steve and Robin are here to protect their friends. You feel like the odd one out.
Maybe it’s not the time to be worrying about that – it definitely isn’t – but the small reminders that you’re not really apart of the group stings.
Max and Lucas pair off together, Steve and Dustin together in the opposite direction and Nancy pulls Robin along with her. As scary as the run down house seems to be, trying to sneak into one of the pairs scares you more – so you go off alone without a hitch.
You do your best to inspect the house and every room you come across but it’s hard when you’re not even sure what you’re supposed to be looking for. You continue through the house for a few minutes until you make it upstairs. When your round the corner, you still.
Because a few feet in front of you, Steve and Nancy stand extremely close. They face each other, eyes locked and gentle smiles along their faces. You can’t hear exactly what they’re saying but Steve looks peaceful. Happy.
It makes your heart bleed and instinctively, your hand reaches for your heart locket again. You recognize that look in his eye, it’s the same way he used to look at you but hasn’t in so long. Seeing them like this feels like torture but you can’t seem to look away. And more than that, it feels like an extra confirmation that Steve broke off the relationship because he didn’t feel the same way anymore.
You’d heard the whispers and the rumors about how he never really got over her and maybe this just proves it.
Your silent pity party halts to an end when Robin makes her way up the stairs and easily slides into the conversation. Steve and Nancy share a look of exasperation and she gives his arm a gentle squeeze before walking away. It’s only then that Steve’s eyes trail from hers and flick up, locking with your own.
Something unreadable flashes in his eyes – surprise, maybe? Or possibly guilt. Whatever it is, it’s gone just as fast as it appeared and he follows the other girls down the hall without a word.
There’s a pang in your chest at his indifference. It’s hard to see him act so careless about everything but maybe you should have expected as much.
Suddenly, you hear Max’s voice coming from the other room and you’re reminded of the situation you’re actually in. If heartbreak was the worst thing you had to deal with then so be it – because the alternative is Max losing her life and you be damned if you let that happen.
The rest of the time spent in the house passes in a blur. You all came to the realization that whatever Vecna is doing, he has some sort of connection withlights and uses that to almost travel between dimensions.
It’s hours later when everyone gets back to the Wheeler home and Nancy decided on using the late hours to regroup and plan for the next few days. How to break the bad news to Eddie, how to successfully avoid Jason and the police, how to make sure Max stays safe by enforcing what Dustin coined as Max Watch.
The basement fills with overlapping chatter. Dustin and Nancy argue over which crisis is more important, Lucas is trying his best to comfort Max – who doesn’t seem to be all that interested in talking anymore – and Robin looks torn between staying silent and joining the argument.
Yet all you can focus on is Steve.
He’s let out his own fair share of input throughout the night and even made some arguably ill-timed jokes with Dustin. You’d like to be infuriated over the fact that he seems fine being around you and not talking but you’re not. You’re just.. hurt.
You’re sitting on a singular chair close to the stairs – the spot furthest from Steve. You’re trying to ignore the loud noises coming from everyone and before your mind catches up with your body, your hand reaches up for your locket.
Except your fingers grasp around air.
Your spine straightens in your seat and you glance down as your palm glides across the fabric of your shirt.
Nothing.
You swipe your hand across your neck, hoping it slipped under your shirt, except it’s not.
Nothing but bare skin.
Panic rises in your chest almost immediately. Every sound coming from the others drowns out of your ears as you shove your jacket off, shaking it erratically in front of you in case it tangled itself there.
Nothing.
You jump to your feet in the blink of an eye and pull the cushions from the small seat – fingers gliding across every inch of fabric in case it slipped through.
Nothing.
This cannot be happening. You couldn’t have lost it. You just had it.
Your stomach twists with anxiety as you search for it. Robin is the first one to notice the change in your behavior.
She calls your name gently. “What’s wrong?”
There’s a lump in your throat that makes it hard to respond. You drop to your knees, snatching your purse from where it sat on the floor. Without a second thought, you dump everything out and onto the floor.
“My necklace – it’s gone,” You respond quietly. There’s a waver in your voice and you know it doesn’t go unnoticed.
Your fingers push apart every item from your bag. Your wallet, your keys, useless receipts, loose change.
No locket.
Your heart is hammering in your chest and there’s a burning feeling coursing through your veins.
“What necklace?” Robin asks and without looking back, you can feel everyone’s eyes on you. It’s embarrassing but the fear of having lost one of the most important things to you overpowers that.
“My locket. It was just here, I just had it,” You explain. She approaches you and offers a small smile.
“It’s okay, we’ll find it. Where was the last place you had it?”
“I don’t – I don’t know. I felt it at the Creel house and that’s.. that’s the last time I can remember,” Your voice is quiet and broken but you keep sifting through the pile of useless things from your purse.
It’s not there. It’s not in your pocket. It’s not around your neck. It’s gone.
Nancy speaks up from behind you next. “Look I’m sorry about your necklace but that’s not really important right now.”
Her tone isn’t unkind but it is impatient. She’s not wrong but the reminder hits a nerve inside you.
“It’s my necklace,” Your response is curt but she doesn’t let it bother her.
“We have to focus on saving lives right now. It’s just a necklace – you can always get another one,” Nancy says.
“No it’s not just a necklace,” You snap, your fingers shake as you shove everything back into your bag and your voice trembles. “It’s from St –“
You freeze before you can finish saying his name. Everything around you feels too small and suffocating. Knowing how much the breakup has been affecting you is different from admitting it to everyone around you.
The hard truth is you’ve been holding onto this single piece of jewelry like it was still a piece of him – but it’s not and it never will be. There was no relationship with him anymore and whether you lost the necklace or not, there never would be again.
Your eyes burn with tears as you kneel against the hardwood floor, sitting over the messy pile that’s your purse. Your shoulders drop and curl into yourself – every ounce of fight drains from you and you finally accept what’s been right in front of you.
The necklace won’t bring him back.
You quietly clean up the mess you made and Robin gives your shoulder a soft squeeze.
“We’ll look more tomorrow, yeah?” She assures but you both know it’s futile. Tomorrow, things with Eddie and Max could worsen. Vecna could make a real appearance. Or Jason and his wild pack of goons could become really dangerous.
You give her a small nod and then the moment passes.
Nancy insists everyone gets rest, saying tomorrow (and however long after that) will be a long day. Everyone does their best to get comfortable in the small space and without a word, you set off upstairs to find a bathroom.
As soon as the door clicks shut, your back leans against the door and tears fall freely against your cheek. They’re thick and hot against your skin and your shoulders rack with sobs.
Your nails dig into the bare skin where the locket used to lay as you let yourself feel it all. The heartbreak of it all and the pain of feeling like it’s happening all over it.
It’s stupid. It’s a single piece of metal. There’s a million other things for you to be worrying about right now but it’s also not just a necklace. It’s that beautiful loving moment you and Steve shared when he gave it to you. It’s his nervous hands shaking as he clasped the chain around your neck. It’s the way his eyes landed on the pendant everyday after. It’s the comfort it’s given you. It’s the last piece of proof that love between you two truly existed.
And now it’s gone.
Steve Harrington feels like the shittiest guy on the planet.
Not only has he spent the last few days acting like he didn’t care about you, he also had to watch you panic over losing the necklace and not comfort you.
Except that was nobody’s fault but his own.
He’s been the most miserable he’s been over the past few months after breaking up with you but he truly felt like it was the right thing to do. He watched you get hurt and face danger head on all because of him and his connections to the Upside Down.
It was his last straw when he woke up in the underground bunker, vision blurred from his swollen eye, and saw the deep cut across your cheekbone. It was still gushing blood but you didn’t even care – you were fussing over him instead of yourself.
That’s when he knew he couldn’t be with you anymore. Because you cared more about his wellbeing instead of your own and he’d be damned if he let you get hurt to save him.
He knew it was cruel doing it over the phone and his ‘reasons’ were even more cruel but selfishly, he couldn’t stand to see the look of agony that would wash over your face if he did it in person.
His fingers gripped the phone so hard his knuckles turned white and when he heard the trembles in your voice as you begged him not to, he had to slam it onto the receiver before you could hear him cry.
Everyday since then has been hell on earth for him – but he told himself it was worth it if it kept you safe.
And then suddenly, and without him with you, you were in it all over again. Only this time he couldn’t comfort you. He couldn’t hold your hand or kiss your forehead. He gave all that up.
Steve didn’t think you’d still wear the necklace he bought you but his happiness from the confirmation was short lived once you began to panic over losing it.
He came to a realization he subconsciously already knew was true. That breaking up with you didn’t make things easier for you or keep you safe – it just hurt you emotionally instead of physically and he’s made you suffer for months.
He glances down at where you lay across the floor. You’re curled into a ball, knees tucked tight to your chest and one arm bent under your head. You seem to be asleep but you still look restless. He can still see the tear stains on your cheeks and his heart cracks.
He can’t fix what he did months ago, but he can fix this.
Steve stands quietly and his eyes dart across the room to make sure everyone is asleep. Everyone but Lucas is, he jumped for first shift of Max Watch, and he doesn’t seem to be at all interested in what Steve is doing.
He quietly gathers his things and makes his way to his car.
The Creel house is even more intimidating at night. It was once a beautiful home, there’s no denying that, but now it’s covered in boarded up windows and vines growing across every inch. The air around the house is eerily quiet – not even crickets chirp nearby.
Steve stands on the porch – not a single street light offering him any comfort – as he calms himself down enough to enter alone. It’s probably a dumb decision, no definitively a dumb decision, but the memory of your tear stained face, kneeling defeated on the floor is enough to make him move.
He wanders through the house with his flashlight. The floorboards creek beneath his feet and the tall grandfather clock almost mocks him. He fights every instinct to turn tail and run, and moves further into the house.
He retraces your steps the best he can. He looks through the main hallway, spends minutes at every single step of the staircase, he makes his way to the second story and examines every inch of the floor.
He makes it to the end of the hall – the same place you stood frozen at the sight of him and Nancy. He feels guilt settle heavy in his chest. It wasn’t what you were thinking but at the time, he thought it was best to let you believe that. He was so stupid.
Steve swallows down his regret and continues moving.
He spent an hour at the house, rummaging through every corner of the rooms you stepped even a foot in and can’t find it. He’s on his last leg of hope when he enters the attic. He wanders the room, flashlight beaming across the floor as he looks for it.
He’s just about to give up when the light catches something. The reflection bounces off the metal, glaring into his eye, and before he knows it, he rushes to it.
It’s a metal chain hanging from a broken floorboard and he can’t see if there’s a pendant attached to it. He drops to his knees, careful not to shake the broken wood, and holds the flashlight over it.
His fingers gently wrap around the metal and with a little tug, he pulls the metal free. Hanging from the bottom of the chain, is the heart shaped locket. It’s a scratched now and tiny pieces of splintered wood are stuck in the clasp but he found it.
He found it.
Steve breathes out a heavy breath of relief and squeezes the jewelry in his palm. He doesn’t spend another second inside the house and rushes outside – back to his car and back to you.
By the time Steve makes it back to the Wheelers house, it’s almost three AM. He knew you’d still be asleep and he’d spent the whole car ride back debating if he should wake you up to give it to you, or wait till morning.
His debate solves itself when he steps out of his car, the locket still clutched tight in his fist, and sees you sitting on the front porch of the house.
He freezes at the sight of you so close to him. It’s the first time you were alone and without distance in months. Everything he thought about saying flies out the window and all he can do is look at you.
You look up when you hear him approaching and surprise flashes in your eyes. He’s not sure what you thought when you saw he was gone – if anything at all – but it’s clear you weren’t expecting to see him like this.
Your hands fidget with the hem of your shirt and he can tell you’re uncomfortable. He never thought he’d see you like that because of him. He hates it.
Your mouth parts like you’re about to say something but he beats you to it.
“I have something for you,” He says.
His voice fills the tense air but the sound of it is like music to your ears. It’s soft and cautious – a hint of exhaustion blanketing it. You blink up at him from where you still sit on the porch step.
“For me?” Your brows furrow. He takes a step closer to you and holds his hand out.
Sitting in the center of his palm is a necklace. Your necklace.
You jump to your feet once recognition hits. A relieved gasp slips past your lips and you rush towards him, fingers tenderly cradling the metal.
“You found it?” You breathe out and hold the necklace in your own hands. Your voice is thick and tears line your eyes again. “I don’t – I don’t understand, how did you find it?”
Steve feels his heart pound when you look up at him with shiny eyes.
“It was at the Creel house, stuck in the attic.” He explains quietly. He’s almost too lost in the way you look right now. Undoubtedly exhausted and heartbroken over the necklace but still so fucking beautiful.
“You went back?”
He nods and watches the way your eyes glance down, taking in the state of him. He almost feels subconscious.
“Why would you do that?” Your voice rises with concern and it takes him aback. “Steve, you could’ve been hurt! We have no idea what’s going on and Robin created the whole no-going-off-alone thing for a reason. Why would you do that just for a necklace?” You chastise him.
It’s ironic that you’re saying it’s just a necklace now when a few hours ago, you were ready to bite Nancy’s head off for saying the same thing.
But this time Steve risked his life for it and that was stupid.
“Because it’s important to you.” Steve says easily. Your breath hitches as he stares down at you. There’s a finality in his voice that makes your heart ache. He says it like it’s obvious – only it’s not obvious and it hasn’t been for a long time.
You shake your head and inhale shakily. Your teeth sink into your bottom lip as you squeeze the necklace in your palm. You have no idea how to respond and nothing feels adequate anymore.
“Steve..” Your shaky voice trails off but he fills the silence.
“You have a scar,” Steve nearly blurts out.
Confusion flashes across your face but he raises his hand to stroke against your cheek. His fingers trace the raised scar across your skin and you fight the instinct to lean into his hold.
You know without more explanation that whatever his reason is for mentioning the scar, it has to do with the breakup.
“So what,” Your eyes searched his as you spoke. “You’re – you’re grossed out because of my scar?”
Insecurity fills your chest and you move to pull away from his hold. It almost feel like it burns now. His eyes widen and he’s quick to shake his head.
“No! No – no that’s not what I mean,” He raises both hands to grab your hands and hold you in place across from him. He says your name gently and you can see his hazel brown eyes swirl with so many emotions. “What I meant is you have a scar because of me,”
You faltered for a moment. “Steve, I got it from the blunt end of a pistol,”
“Exactly!” He exclaims and your brows pinch together. “You literally got pistol whipped because you were trying to protect me. You got hurt because of me,”
It slowly begins to dawn on you what he’s saying but he doesn’t let you offer any defense before he continues.
“Baby, you have no idea what it felt like to see you hurt like that and how it felt to know it was because of me,” You barely have a chance to bask in the slip of a pet name because he keeps going. “I thought I was doing the right thing back then. I thought I was keeping you safe by walking away – that’s all I’ve ever wanted to do, because I’d rather live in a life time of agony alone than drag you into danger. I can’t do that – I won’t do that.” Steve’s voice cracks and your chest tightens. “But you got dragged into it anyway and this time, you’ve been alone and that’s my fault. I hurt you worse than you’ve ever been hurt before and I’m sorry, baby – I’m so fucking sorry,”
By the time Steve finishes, his palms have somehow found home holding your face. The tears that threatened to fall have spilled down your skin and wet his hands. Unaware to himself, his own eyes gloss over with tears.
It’s a terrible reason to have broken up with you and a deep part of you is angry that he didn’t just have a conversation with you but the biggest part of you is so fucking relieved to hear those words come out of his mouth.
Because it’s not that he didn’t love you anymore, it was that he loved you too much.
You breathe in a shaky breath and bring your freehand up to grip his wrist. “Steve..”
He leans his forehead against your own and his eyes flutter shut – a few stray tears slide down his cheeks and your heart shatters at the sight. You’ve spent so much time thinking he didn’t care but in reality, he was living the same hell you were.
You whisper his name but when he doesn’t move, you gently pull yourself away from him to bring the locket up to view. “Steve, look at me,” You murmur. He doesn’t take his hands off your face but he obliges. “You didn’t open it, did you?”
His eyes glance at the chain in your hand. “The necklace? No,” He shakes his head.
You give him a tearful smile and nudge it towards him. He doesn’t seem to get the hint. “Open it,”
He looks hesitant to let you go but when you give him another gentle encouragement, his hands move from your skin to hold the locket. He sniffles as he opens the metal.
His fingers still once it’s laid open in front of him.
Tucked inside the hearts are two pictures – one of the two of you on a date and the other of just him smiling softly into the camera.
His heart constricts in his chest at the sight of it. It wasn’t just that you still wore the necklace – you still carried him with you. Everyday since he gave it to you.
You let the silence sit for a moment before speaking up.
“Steve, it never mattered if we were together or not. I would follow you into danger every time. You could’ve been dragged to hell right now and I would still jump in after you because I love you, Steve. So mu –“
You’re suddenly cut off when he slams his lips against yours. The feeling of his lips fitting perfectly with yours is dizzying relief and your hands cling to his shoulders. You hold onto him so tight, like you’re afraid he’s about to slip away, and his hands cradle your face just as tight.
Steve is overwhelmed with every ounce of love he’s ever felt for you and you feel just the same.
His mouth slots against yours as he pours everything into this one kiss. He feels warm and fuzzy against you and it’s like all the torturous moments away from him completely fade away.
“I love you so – so fucking much,” Steve whispers against your lips, careful not to break contact, and you don’t even pretend to fight the smile that breaks out on your face. “So much baby, so so much,”
He continues to repeat it even as his lips travel from your lips and across your skin. He leaves messy kisses to your cheek, along your jaw, even over your eyelids until he lands back on your lips.
You hold each other close and breathe in each others air for as long as you can until he finally breaks apart from you – but he still doesn’t go far and rests his forehead against yours. You both nearly struggle to catch your breath but you’re both smiling wide.
It all feels right again. Perfect.
You carefully pull the necklace from his hand and hold it up again. “Will you put it on me?”
Steve nods without hesitation and carefully turns your hips to face away from him. Your pull your hair over one shoulder as he pulls the chain around your neck. His warm finger tips brush against your skin and tiny goosebumps erupt over you. The metal is cool against the warmth of your body – right where it belongs – and Steve’s hands glide across your shoulders after he clasps it in place.
You turn in his hold and wrap your arms around his middle. You look up at his beautiful eyes and he stares back down at yours. “I missed you,” You confess softly.
He nods above you and his thumb glides across your cheek. “I’ve missed you even more, sweet girl.”
There’s a million and one things to worry about tomorrow. The state of the world, Max’s safety, Eddie’s freedom and so much more but there’s not a sliver of doubt inside you that you can’t deal with it if he’s by your side.
And you know with absolute certainty, he’ll always be with you.
summary: steve harrington has been in love with his best friend for fifteen years, but when you have the opportunity to follow your dream, will he ask you to stay or let you?
warnings: a little angst, fluff, best friends to lovers, steve is perfect like always, cursing, crying, robin saving the day, two idiots in love that won’t admit it, love confession! happy ending!
word count: 6.2k
In the entirety of Steve’s life, he always kind of had you.
His mom met yours in the middle of a grocery story in 1972. Little six year old Steve clung to his mom’s leg, almost cowering behind her, as the six year old version of you practically sized him up.
You and your family were the new ones to move into the neighborhood that year and it was the Summer before first grade.
You wore a bright pink dress, a poofy one with flowers stitched along the hem and you had an adorable headband to match. Your shoes were white – well they were before you dirtied them up while planting flowers in your backyard.
Your eyes were bright as you looked at him. Your mothers talked for what felt like hours in the middle of the aisle, and you tried initiating your own conversation with the boy.
He was not interested.
But your lack of conversation that day did little to deter you. You showed up to his house the next day, sweetly asking his mom if he could come play. He begged his mom to make an excuse, even pretended to have a stomach ache but she insisted he needed more friends. She practically booted him out the door and into your lap.
Little you could tell he was apprehensive about playing with you. You were a girl – the new girl at that. And you seemed weird. You were loud and always singing some lame song. You didn’t care about the way dirt would cling to your fingers and clothes. You always stopped when you saw a squirrel crawling around.
You were annoying.
And Steve was smitten.
In 10 years, he has never – and as far as he’s concerned, will never – admitted how he feels about you. Either from fear or cowardice, he doesn’t even know.
But as the years went on, the childish things you guys did together morphed into slightly more sophisticated things. You rode bikes together, went to the movies. Steve even got roped into pulling pranks on your neighbors on Halloween of sixth grade.
Your friendship strengthened over time. Even through puberty and hormonal changes – you two were glued to each other. It was you and Steve against the world.
Steve sits on the carpeted floor of your bedroom, his long legs spread out in front of him as he mindlessly plays with the stuffed bears he won you at the state fair back in high school – tossing it in the air as if it was a ball.
You sit cross legged in your chair at your desk, one palm holding up your cheek as you try and complete your admissions essay.
The room is mostly quiet. The only sound comes from the soft thud the bear makes when it collides with his palm and the rustling of pages flipping and the erratic sound of your eraser sliding aggressively across the page every few minutes.
He’s been at your house for the past three hours and when he realized you weren’t budging on your work, he opted to stick around till you finished.
The only problem is you were stuck. You had absolutely no idea where to begin. Steve could tell just by looking at you. Your mouth is pulled down into a tight frown, a kink between your eyebrows. Your hair is a little messy from the way you’ve been pulling on it, something he knows will result in a headache later.
Steve watches the way your fists clutch the papers in front of you and crumple them into a ball, groaning furiously before you hurl the balled up paper to your trashcan.
And the way it misses.
You both watch as the paper bounces off the corner of the can and lands on the floor. Another angry curse slips past your lips before you drop your head – your forehead thumps against the textbook in front of you.
“This sucks!” You shout. It’s a little muffled from the way your face is buried into the hardcover but Steve chuckles from beside you.
He tosses your bear back onto the bed before moving to sit next to you. He leans his back against your desk and plants one hand on your thigh. His palm meets your bare skin, he squeezes it reassuringly.
“I don’t get why you’re stressing yourself out about it,” Steve says.
“I’m not,” You scoff against the book. You can’t see Steve when he gives you a pointed look but you can feel it.
“The pile of evidence over there says otherwise,” He deadpans.
Keeping your forehead against the book, you turn your head to peak at where he points. Sure enough, a fast growing pile of crumpled up papers sit in the corner – all somehow missing the trash can.
To say you were frustrated was a severe understatement.
You straighten in your seat, loosely crossing your arms over your chest. You still don’t look at him. “I have to get this right, Steve. This is the top internship for like, the best marketing company in the state. I’m up against some of the best candidates. One wrong word and I’m out,”
The confession hangs in the air between you two for a moment.
Steve tries to rack his brain with the right thing to say.
He can’t exactly say he relates because he doesn’t. It’s been two years since you both graduated and he gave up on college and is actually liking this new way of working with Robin to figure out what he wants to do.
But he knows you’re a hell of a lot smarter than he is. School has always been your thing and he also knows just how hard you can be on yourself.
Steve’s hands rise up to grab your chair. His large hands cover the sides and with a soft mutter of confusion from you, he effortlessly pulls the chair so you’re facing him.
You look down at him, eyes wide and curious. He still sits on the floor beside you and he keeps his hands pressed to the chair. A few more inches over and they’d be holding onto your thighs instead. He really wants to.
“None of those other people are you,” He says easily.
He sounds so genuine that your eyes soften. “You have to say that, you’re my best friend.”
Steve ignores the pinch in his heart at the term best friend.
“Yeah well, my best friend just so happens to be smarter than those other losers applying,”
His words pull a genuine laugh from you. It’s the first real laugh he’s heard all day and it brings a smile to his own face.
“Does that mean you think I’m a loser for applying too?” You tease.
Steve shrugs. “I already think you’re a loser, this has nothing to do with it,”
You scoff, a smile still plastered on your face. “Oh gee, thanks.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll be a loser with you,” Steve says. He gets hit with another fuzzy feeling in his chest when you smile at him.
It’s quiet for a few moments. There’s distant chatter coming from your family downstairs and the birds chirp through the open window. Steve watches you and he can already see the way the tension in your shoulders has already loosened.
Your fingers play with a tiny piece of thread hanging from the wrist of his henley. Every time your fingers graze his skin, he feels a bolt of electricity run through him.
It’s casual and delicate, the way you touch him so mindlessly, and he should be used to it but every time you’re close like this, he short circuits.
Still playing with the thread, you look back up at him. The furrow between your brows is back and there’s a thoughtful look in your eyes.
“Do you..” You trail off and try to find the right words. “Do you think I’m good enough for it?”
Your voice is so gentle and hesitant, and Steve knows you’re already psyching yourself out to believe you wouldn’t deserve it.
“I think you’re more than good enough for it.” His response is quick and firm. He says your name and moves his palms from resting on your chair to holding both knees. “There’s not a single person who would deserve it more than you and I don’t want you telling yourself otherwise,”
You hold his gaze. His dark brown eyes – those puppy dog eyes you always get lost in – stare back at you and you can see nothing but truth and admiration swirling in them.
Just like that, all your doubts disappear. Steve always managed to have that effect on you and you know even if you didn’t get the internship, he’d always make you feel better.
You set over palm over his hand that holds your leg. “Thanks, Steve,”
His thumb brushes over your skin. “Anytime,”
Two weeks later, you had successfully managed to write an essay you were more than proud of. You made Steve and your mom read it six different times just to be sure it was ready to be sent in. They both assured you it was perfect.
The process wouldn’t be fast, you knew that, but you were a ball of nerves every since you and Steve dropped it off at the post office. Ever since then, he’s done everything in his power to keep your mind off it.
You, Steve and Robin all have shared plans today. It’s been 24 days since you sent in the letter – not that you’ve been counting (you definitely have been) – and today’s plans were a day at the lake to help with the killer heat wave that’s hit Hawkins.
It was the most fun you’ve had in a while and for the first time, you hadn’t thought about the letter once.
You and Steve barrel in through your front door, in a fit of laughter over the way he dove with terrible form into the water from the cliff.
“Alright whatever, laugh it up. It’s only because my foot slipped, at least I wasn’t too chicken to dive,” He bites out, clearly aimed at you. There’s no real venom in his voice.
Your laughing halts to a stop. “I wasn’t chicken! I just prefer not to break every bone in my body,”
Steve chuckles. He’s wearing a plain white t shirt, one that’s a little damp from his skin. His hair is still wet at the ends and a little messy from the way he ran the towel over it. His legs on full display under his swim trunks. “It wasn’t that high,”
You glare at him. “It was high enough,”
He continues giggling as you both move further into the house. You can hear your mom humming in the kitchen and the smell of fresh food fills the air. Steve’s feet have him rushing towards the smell almost immediately.
The two of you make it into the kitchen where your mom stands near the island. She smiles at you guys and it widens when she sees Steve. She moves to hug him.
“Hey sweetheart,” She cooes and his cheeks tint with a faint blush.
“Hi Stephanie,” He smiles, reciprocating her hug.
“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you like him more than me,” You joke and pluck a fresh fry from the counter. Your mom gives you a playful look.
“She does,” Steve answers for her.
She gives him a playful smack to his chest before returning to the plan on the stove. “How was the lake?”
“It was good. Nobody died,” You shrug.
She huffs out a laugh and continues stirring the pot. “Well, that’s definitely considered a great day then,”
You hum in agreement and move to sit next to Steve at the barstools. He’s already picking through the plate of finished food on the island.
“So..” Your mom turns off the stove and moves to face you. “I have something for you,”
You perk up in your seat.
She smiles at your reaction and walks towards the fridge. She grabs an envelope pinned to the surface and moves to stand on the opposite side of the island, right in front of you.
“This came in while you were at the lake.” She begins. “Now I want you to remember no matter what it says, you are so smart and everything happens for a reason, okay?”
Your stomach twists in knots of anxiety and you already know what it is without even reading it. Steve seems to catch on because he stops eating beside you and wrings his fingers through a napkin. He turns in his seat to face you, his own stomach bubbling with anticipation.
She hands you the letter and you have half a mind not to snatch it from her.
On the cover is your full name and address in bold lettering; and the returning address is the same one at the firm downtown. Your hands shake as you hold the letter.
Steve notices and gently places his palm over your thigh. You look over at him and he gives you a warm smile. It’s all the encouragement you need.
Your shaky fingers tear open the envelope and pull the stack of papers inside.
Your name opens the letter.
From Davis & Blu, we are pleased to offer you a position as a marketing intern for a period of twelve months.
You’re jumping in the air before you even read the rest of the letter. “I got it! I got the spot!”
Steve and your mom cheer immediately. Without you even seeing, your mom pulls out a small cake from the fridge that says congratulations, and Steve pulls you in for a tight hug.
Steve’s arms wrap around you tight and it takes every ounce of strength not to focus on the feeling of his biceps.
“Wait wait wait,” You breathe out and reluctantly pull away from his hold. You don’t go far, your shoulder rests against his chest and he has one hand splayed against the small of your back. “I have to read the rest.”
Your eyes skim through the rest of the letter. You’re thanked for your talent and consideration of the company.
Then suddenly, your stomach drops.
Because in the middle of the letter, reads the location.
However, we are sad to inform you there are no positions available at our Hawkins office. If you choose to accept this offer, you will be relocated to Manhattan, New York with complete costs paid for by the company. We will need your answer by 07/31. We look forward to hearing from you.
The air around you stills. The excited sounds of your mom and Steve cease to exist to you and all that’s left it the letter. This letter that has your dream opportunity, now a thousand miles away from your family and you need to make the decision in four days.
They seem to notice the way your face dropped and glance at each other nervously.
“Honey? What’s wrong?” Your mom asks.
You take a deep breath and look back up at them. Curiosity clouds their eyes. “It’s uh, it’s in New York,”
“New York?” Steve echos and his hand drops from where it rested on your back. You feel cold immediately.
“What – Wait, I thought you applied for the position here in Hawkins,” Your mom asks.
“I did! I did, but they said that office is full and they’ll cover all the costs of me moving there,”
Steve runs his hand through his hair. “Okay,” He says carefully. “How long would it be? I mean, an internship there would be a good start and then you’d come back to work here, right?”
Your throat tightens and he picks up on your hesitation. “It’s – it’s twelve months,”
“A year?” He exasperates and you hate the way his mood has saddened. Steve drops back down in his seat, his palm covering his mouth.
Your moms eyes flicker between you two but she doesn’t say anything.
“When do you have to decide?” She asks.
You place the letter on the counter. “They need an answer in two days and if I accept, I’ll leave on Friday.”
“That’s like three days from now. You’re gonna move a thousand miles away for a year in three days?” Steve asks.
His voice isn’t laced with anger or frustration. It’s just sad. Your eyes soften at him, brows pulling together but you have no idea what to say.
Your mom speaks again. “Honey, it’s your decision. Whatever you do, we’ll support you,”
It was a kind redirection for Steve to keep his own sad thoughts to himself and he takes it.
He inhales softly and nods. His hand comes back up to rest against your back. “Whatever you wanna do.” He echoes the promise but it does little to bring your mood up.
In less than a week, you have to decide between moving away from everyone and everything you know or putting your dream on hold.
You were right before. This sucks.
Later that night, you and Steve lay on top of your pink duvet, shoulder to shoulder on your bed. The room is eerily quiet as you both stare the ceiling. The three of you had dinner together, a tense one, as you all thought about the possible outcomes.
If you take it, you’ll be in an entirely new city with millions of strangers but doing something you love.
If you stay, you’ll be home with everyone you love but who knows where you’ll be at career wise.
Leaving means leaving your family. Your friends. Steve.
Staying means losing your dream.
You wish someone could stand in front of you and tell you the right decision.
“I’m sorry about earlier,” Steve’s voice breaks the silence. You turn to look at him but he keeps his eyes on the ceiling. “I shouldn’t have made you feel like that about it being in a New York. I’m sorry,” He repeats.
You give him a half smile. “It’s okay, I know you didn’t mean it like that.” You turn your eyes back to the ceiling. “I don’t know what to do, Steve,”
Your admission is soft into the air and this time, he looks at you.
Your eyes count the circles your ceiling fan makes. “I never planned for New York. I planned for the job here at Hawkins, I mean this is my home. I don’t know if I want to leave already,”
Steve nods. “It’s only a year, right?”
You shake your head. “For now. But what if I get out there and a year becomes two years? What if it becomes permanent? What if I love it out there?” Your voice falls quieter at the last question and Steve notices.
He shifts so he’s laying on his side and facing you. He gently grabs your hip and pulls you into the same position. Even as you turn, he keeps his large palm over your hip and the warmth of it radiates through your entire body.
“It’s okay if you love it there,” He says gently. “This is everything you’ve worked so far for. You deserve it more than anyone.”
Your eyes sting with tears and your throat threatens to close. “It’s a thousand miles away from you.”
Neither of you miss the way you only mention him and not everyone else. It sits heavy in his chest but he doesn’t say anything.
“New York is only 10 hours away, I could make that drive every Friday night.” He reassures you. The idea of him roadtripping every Friday pulls a watery laugh from you and he smiles back.
“The Beamer wouldn’t be able to handle all those miles,” You tease and he fakes offense.
His eyes narrow and he squeezes your hip playfully. “Hey, she can withstand anything,”
You giggle against his hold and that tight knot loosens in your chest. You both stare at each other for a few moments before he speaks up again.
“Selfishly, I wanna tell you to stay,” He admits, his voice is low and rough. He almost sounds shameful. “I wanna tell you to stay here with me and we can figure it all out together. But I don’t want you to put your dreams on hold – not for me. Go to New York, go to that office and show everyone just how much you deserve to be there. I’ll be here waiting for you. Even if it’s forever.”
By the time he finishes, a stray tear has slid down your cheek and lands on your pillow. His eyes are so intense and so full of love, it overwhelms you. He brings his hand up from your hip to wipe your cheek. The feeling of his thumb against your skin has you leaning into his hold.
You watch the way his eyes flicker from your eyes down to your lips. Instinctively, you do the same. His lips look so soft and inviting and you wonder how they’d feel against your own.
It’s not the first time you thought about him this way. Actually, you’re not sure there’s been a time since you were eight that you didn’t think of him this way.
Subconsciously, your body moves closer to him. He follows your lead and rests his forehead against yours. Your eyes flutter shut and you can feel his breath warm against your mouth.
“Tell me to stay,” You whisper.
Carefully, his lips ghost over yours. Not yet touching and not kissing, but so close that your stomach twists.
He’s so close that you can feel his lips part to either answer or finally kiss you but before he can, there’s a knock at your door.
In an instant, the moment passes.
Steve pulls away from you, putting as much space between you two as he can on the small bed. Your body loses all of its warmth at the loss of him so close to you and you want to scream at your mom as she steps into the room.
She doesn’t comment on the two of you in bed, it’s something you have done since kids.
“Sorry but Steve, Robin is on the phone. She needs you to pick her up from work, something about her mom’s car stalling and she refuses to – and I quote – ‘get mugged on the city bus,’” Your mom informs him.
From beside you, he huffs out a weak laugh but nods and moves to stand up. You suppress all protests to him leaving and ignore the urge to ask to go with him. It doesn’t particularly seem like he wants you to.
You watch him avoid your eyes as he slips his shoes and jacket back on. “I’ll uh, I’ll call you later,” He says. He gently hugs your mom goodbye and then he’s gone.
Your mom lingers even after she hears the front door shut and carefully walks over to where you lay with your hands covering your face. More tears have now fallen freely against your cheeks.
From stress about your decision and from feeling overwhelmed about what to choose, and from the possibility that you just ruined the most important relationship in your life.
Gently, your mom pulls your hands away from your face. “Honey, don’t cry,” She soothes, her thumb repeating the same act Steve did a few minutes ago.
“I don’t – I don’t know what to do, mama,” Your mouth is turned into a deep frown and her eyes soften at the sound of the way you say her name.
She shifts to lay beside you, pulling your body into hers until you’re laying on her chest, both of her arms around you. She rests her cheek on the top of your head.
“I know it all seems really hard right now, and it is a hard decision, but nobody knows what to do better than you do. There’s no right or wrong answer here. All I want for you is for you to choose what you want and to do. Not what you think is expected of you or what you think will make you more successful – do what your heart tells you to do,” She hugs you tighter.
You take in her words. “My heart isn’t being very helpful right now,” You mutter.
She chuckles above you. “I don’t think that’s entirely true.” You move your head to look up at her, and she looks back down at you. “You wanna know what I think?”
You nod without hesitation.
“I think your heart already told you the answer but you’re too scared to accept it.”
“I don’t get it,”
She smiles down at you. “I have watched you and Steve dance around each other for the last fifteen years,”
You groan and bury your face in her shirt. “Mom,”
“Nuh-uh, don’t mom me,” She teases. “I’m serious. That boy would figure out a way to bring you the moon if you asked him to,”
“Don’t be dramatic,” Your muffled voice says.
“What I’m getting at is Steve is a good boy and I know more than anything, even if you don’t want to admit it, you’re worried about what this could mean for you two. But sweetheart, you’re worrying for no reason. He’s not going anywhere,”
You pause for a moment to think on her words. “So you think I should go?”
“I didn’t say that,” She says quickly.
“So you think I should stay.” You land on.
“I didn’t say that either,”
“Mom!” You whine into her. “Can you just tell me what to do?”
She shakes her head. “I told you baby, you already know in your heart what to do. You just have to admit it. I will always support you, no matter what. It’s not about choosing your career over Steve or choosing Steve over your career – it’s about you and what you want. That’s all that matters, my love.”
You huff at her words but you know she’s right because deep in your gut, you know the answer you’ll give them. You’ve always know the answer from the second you opened the letter.
Two days have passed since your almost kiss with Steve and it’s now the night before you’re supposed to leave. Stupidly, Steve has stayed away the past 48 hours and as time nears your departure date, he regrets it.
He made too many stupid decisions in just one night. First, his reaction to your acceptance. Then admitting the fact that he wanted you to stay, as if he didn’t know that couldn’t impacted your decision. And to top it all off, the fact that he almost kissed you.
He’s lived with his secret feelings for you for more than a decade but now that something really good happens for you, he almost let it slip.
He felt ashamed that he almost made such a big accomplishment of yours about himself. The last thing he ever wanted was to ruin your relationship but as the silence continues, he worries he already did.
Suddenly, Robin plops down next to him on the couch in Family Video’s break room. She’s more than just noticed his sour mood over the past two days and it seems like she’s finally had enough. Steve has sunk into the side of the couch, his body still and his eyes stuck on a magazine he hasn’t even read a word of.
“So, are we gonna talk about it or are you gonna keep pouting?” She says.
Steve side eyes her. “I’m not pouting,”
“Are you sure? Because Mrs. Higgins just came in and her toddler had the same look on his face when she told him he couldn’t have candy,”
He turns to glare at her and throws the magazine onto the coffee table in front of him. “You know what Buckley, I’m really not in the mood right now,”
He sounds mad, he knows he does, but she doesn’t even bat an eye.
“Obviously.” She rolls her eyes at his nasty tone. “Does it have anything to do with the looming departure of the future Mrs. Harrington?”
Steve’s irritation is rising and somehow, Robin is always the perfect person to quicken the process. “Jesus Christ, can you not for like five seconds? Seriously,”
Surprisingly, she pauses. She blinks at him and he worries he snapped too hard but then she sighs.
“Why do you have to be such a dingus?” She asks. Steve scrowls at her. “Look, I know it sucks that she’s leaving. I’m gonna miss her too but then again, I’m not in love with her,”
He rolls his eyes this time. “I’m not in love with her, Robin.”
She waves her hand at him. “Oh please, the entire town knows it – including Mrs. Higgins spawn. I’m pretty sure the only ones who don’t are you and her,”
Steve hesitates in his response. Arguing is futile – he is in love with you and he has been since you went on a rant about squirrels at the age of seven.
“My point is, just because she’s leaving doesn’t mean she’s leaving you,” Robin says gently. “New York is nothing in the grand scheme of things and when the year is up, she’ll be back home. Or maybe she won’t and you can move out there. Or maybe she’ll stay there and you’ll stay here and keep visiting. What I’m saying is the possibilities are endless and leaving doesn’t have to mean whatever terrible things your mind is conjuring up.”
Steve is willing himself not to cry in front of Robin.
Her words land exactly where they were supposed to and he feels even more like a jackass than he did before. Robin was right. You leaving didn’t mean the end of you two, it just meant there was more than a five mile distance. And instead of spending as much time as possible with you before you left, he spent it avoiding you.
He glances at the clock and it’s now 8:45PM. He jumps off the couch, hands feeling around his pockets for his keys.
“Can you close by yourself?” He rushes out and Robin has to fight back her smile. She barely says the word yes before he’s bolting out of the store.
He practically sprints to his car and isn’t afraid to admit the fact that he broke four different speeding laws to get to you. He tries his best to rehearse what to say on the drive there.
Something along the lines of I’m sorry, I love you, you should go, I’ll wait for you. Hell, he’d even go with you if you wanted him to.
Steve thanks the universe for the fact that the roads are relatively empty and he hit every green light on the streets. He makes it to your house in record time.
He notices the porch light on but your mom’s car is gone, leaving only yours in the driveway. He cuts the engine and practically launches out of the driver seat. He jogs up to the front door and his hand shakes as he knocks on the wood.
He keeps trying to rack his brain for the perfect words to say but it all disappears when the door opens. You stand opposite of him, half of your body shielded by the door but you open it wider when you realize it’s him.
Your hair is loose around your face and you’re clearly dressed for bed. One of his t-shirts covers your body, the hem ending mid thigh and covering your sleep shorts. Your feet are covered in fuzzy socks. You smile up at him and his stomach swarms with butterflies.
“Steve,” You breathe. “I tried calling y –,”
He cuts you off. “I love you.”
The words tumble out of his mouth before he can even comprehend what he’s saying. But once they’re out, it feels like a thousand pound weight has been lifted off his chest.
He watches the way your lips part and your breathing hitches. He takes a step closer and your neck cranes to look up at him.
“I’ve loved you ever since we were seven years old and you forced me to play in the dirt with you. I’ve loved you ever since you taught yourself how to braid using my hair. I’ve loved you ever since you stuck by my side even when I was an asshole who didn’t deserve you. I have loved you ever since the second I laid eyes on you and that’s the only thing in my entire life that I’ve ever been sure of.”
By the time Steve finishes, his eyes are glassy and his voice breaks every time he says I love you. Your own eyes are wet, a few tears sliding down your skin.
It’s everything he’s kept bottled up these past fifteen years and now that it’s finally out, he feels like he can breathe. He takes another step closer, now toe to toe and gently cups your face in his hands.
“I’m sorry for leaving the other night. I was being stupid and I was scared of what it would mean by you leaving but it doesn’t mean anything. I’ll help you pack and move in out there, and I’ll be out there every weekend just like I said before. I’ll call you every night or wait for you to call me, it doesn’t matter. Either way, Hawkins or New York, I will always love you the same, baby. I promise.”
You let out a choked sound at his confession – something between a sob and a laugh – and he feels his heart constrict in his chest. He leans in, pressing his lips to the tear stained skin of your cheeks and then to your forehead.
“I love you so much.” He whispers into your skin.
Not once has he even thought about the fact that he hasn’t heard you say it back. In the end, it didn’t matter even if you didn’t because he would until the day he died.
“Steve,” You say and carefully pull away from his hold. He lets you and he keeps his eyes stuck on you. “I tried calling you earlier,”
He nods, eyes wide and curious.
“I called the firm a few hours ago,” You pause for a second and stare at his handsome face. He watches the way your eyes flicker across his entire face. “I turned down the position.”
Steve’s lips part and pulls his brows together. “Wha – what, why? No,” He shakes his head and brings his hands from your face to hold your hands. “No, you should go. This is a great opportunity. Why would you turn it down?”
“Because you’re here,” You say the words so softly and he makes sure to engrave that sound into his mind.
He stares down at you, so many different emotions flowing through him. Carefully he whispers your name. “You shouldn’t turn that down for me,”
You smile sadly at him. “Steve, there’s not a world where I’m choosing somewhere a thousand miles away from you. The thought of having to wait five days every week before I can see you again? Or only getting to talk over the phone every night? It’s not worth it,” You say. Steve opens his mouth to argue but you beat him to it. “So, I tracked down one of the other girls who got accepted at the Hawkins office. Turns out she was gunning for New York’s post and when I asked her to switch, she didn’t even hesitate.”
Finally, Steve perks up. His eyes light up in relief and a smile blooms across his pretty mouth.
“You – you got the position here?” He asks.
You nod, smiling. “Looks like I’m smart enough to figure out a way to have both,”
Steve doesn’t even respond before his large palms cover your cheeks again and he surges forward, his mouth pressing against yours.
You hum in contentment at the soft feeling of his lips finally meeting yours. His big arms wrap around your body, anchoring you into him as he pours every ounce of love into this kiss.
It’s achingly tender and devastatingly overdue.
Steve smiles against your mouth as you kiss him back and it’s so contagious, you both stand there with dopey smiles against each other.
He pulls away first and plants messy and wet kisses across your face. He holds you still as you giggle and shake in his arms when his lips travel to the ticklish spot of your neck.
He moves to look back at you and his smile hasn’t faltered once. Neither has yours.
“Oh, by the way?” You murmur. Steve nods for you to continue. “I love you too. So fucking much.”
Steve answers by devouring your face again, kissing every bit of you he can reach. You’re seconds from pulling him inside when you hear something behind him.
“Well it’s about damn time!” Your mom teases from the porch.
Maybe I could love you, too.
Summary: Life would be easier if you weren’t so in love with your best friend.
One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six | Seven | Eight
Someone like me
Summary: You’re not sure why, but Robin’s best friend absolutely loathes you, without question. And that makes things difficult seeing as how you have a massive crush on Steve Harrington.
One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six | Seven | Eight
When there is nothing left to burn
Summary: It’s been almost two years since you and Steve Harrington broke up. The last place you ever thought you’d see him again is in your classroom for career day.
One
COMPLETED:
This is your fairytale.
Summary: Steve Harrington wishes for a chance with Nancy Wheeler and you are there to grant it. One-shot.
Here
COMING SOON:
Keep it poetic
Summary: Steve Harrington discovers a world that lies in a different dimension underneath Hawkins, Indiana. One where animals talk, trolls exist, and everyone likes to sing their emotions.
summary: when you join the FBI, everybody on your team is so welcoming except for steve harrington. when your team is placed on an undercover case, you're partnered with the one person you can't stand. your ability to work together will be detrimental to the case to save as many lives as possible.
current word count: 35k
pairing: agent!steveharrington x femagent!reader
notes: i miss criminal minds and steve harrington so i put them together </3
warnings: no use of y/n, enemies to lovers, eventual smut, fake dating, forced proximity, some violence + graphic cases will be mentioned, core four <3, everybody is here, slowish burn, SO angsty, kind of mayfield!reader (she's adopted), will add more as i think of them
In 1980s Hawkins, Indiana, you and Steve Harrington have been inseparable since childhood, sharing everything—except the truth about your feelings for each other. As the shadow of the Upside Down grows, Steve struggles to balance his relationship with Nancy Wheeler and his unspoken love for you, his best friend.
Through dangerous encounters and memories that refuse to fade, the line between friendship and something more blurs. But in a world where nothing is certain, can you and Steve finally face the truth, or will timing and fear keep you apart forever?
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character guide
~1983~
(One Shot) Open Arms Part I Part II
~1984~
chapter one
chapter two
chapter three
chapter four
chapter five
chapter six
~1985~
chapter seven
chapter eight
chapter nine
chapter ten
chapter eleven
chapter twelve
chapter thirteen
chapter fourteen
chapter fifteen
chapter sixteen
~1986~
chapter seventeen
chapter eighteen
chapter nineteen
chapter twenty
chapter twenty one
chapter twenty two
chapter twenty three
chapter twenty four
chapter twenty five
chapter twenty six
chapter twenty seven
chapter twenty eight
chapter twenty nine
chapter thirty
⚾ I don't give a damn 'bout my reputation
→ To avenge Dustin, we don’t care about our reputation.
⚾ Time to say goodbye.
→ There are hellos, and then there are farewells that are only goodbyes for now.
⚾ I told you a lie
→ " My love, you knocked me down, Blind and deaf, lost without ground"
⚾ Take Me Home
→ Eddie had been missing for several days, and you certainly hadn’t expected to come across a group of kids battling a parallel universe where the rules of Dungeons & Dragons seemed to come to life.
⚾ Nothing but a heartache...
→ The shortest jokes are often the best — especially the ones that make no one laugh.
⚾The Girl Next Door
→ Steve always hated his neighbor who had stolen his illusions, and over time, other illusions took their place.
⚾ A Kiss Always Means Something
→ A single kiss that shatters everything.
⚾ Dark Veins
→ Some betrayals look like acts of love. It was necessary to betray in order to survive.
⚾All of my memories
→ In silent moments I Imagine you here
⚾ Letting Go
→ You sense that he still has feelings for Nancy, and the idea of being just a default choice makes your throat tighten. You'd rather break up than accept being the one he stays with out of spite.
⚾ Salut les amoureux
→ "We weren’t meant to live together. Sometimes, simply loving each other isn’t enough."
⚾ La culotte
→ Lace can seduce, but the heart always remembers cotton.
⚾ And Now You’re Dancing with Him
→ Between a glass of whisky and a slow dance she’s sharing with someone else, Steve realizes that some stories don’t really end—even when they’re over.
⚾ Combustible
→ For the past few months, you and Steve have been trying to build something. But your relationship is marked by the wounds of the past: you fled a violent relationship, and since then, trusting someone has been a constant battle. Letting go, loving freely… still feels out of reach.
⚾ Loser
→ When you doubt yourself, the past always finds a way to come back, one way or another.
⚾ I’ll Keep You Safe
→ Rule number 1: Always have battery power on your walkie-talkie
⚾ Of shame and forgiveness
→ Steve and you had only been together for a short time, a relationship still fragile, constantly tested by Steve’s demons and his inability to deal with anything serious. And yet, you had believed in it. Until Carol told you she had seen him come home with a pretty blonde on his arm, his mind already clouded by alcohol. You should have known better: you don’t change someone who doesn’t want to change.
⚾ Cool
→ The promise to meet again on the roof of the radio station had survived life’s trials, and your group gathers once again every year in the spring. This time, Steve is here with his new girlfriend, as if he’s hoping everything can still stay cool between you.
⚾ Too Good To Be True
→ She’s convinced he’ll eventually break her heart. Steve realizes she’s about to break his first.
⚾ Exit Wounds
→ Steve thought leaving her was the only way to protect her. But while she fights to keep him alive, they discover that what they felt for each other never really disappeared.
⚾ The List Of Regrets
→ For a university assignment, students are asked to write about their greatest regrets. The letters are supposed to stay anonymous. By accident, Steve ends up reading yours. Now he know things no one else does.
⚾That's Not Your Cat
→ A stray cat starts showing up at your workplace. You begin feeding him. So does Steve. It doesn't take long for the two of you to realize you're somehow co-parenting an animal that refuses to belong to anyone.
⚾A cookie problem
→ Steve Harrington refused your cookies a year ago. After a car accident leaves you with a mild concussion and forces him to watch over you for the night, you finally find out why.
⚾When the Curtain Falls
→ After getting assigned to the university’s end-of-year musical as punishment for yet another mistake, Steve Harrington was only supposed to be an extra… until Robin lets slip that he can sing, landing him the lead role opposite you. Between rehearsals, where your characters fall in love beneath the glow of a 1930s cabaret, the line between the stage and reality begins to blur dangerously.
⚾Hawkins Post (soon)
→ During your summer internship at the Hawkins Post, you're investigating the strange events shaking Hawkins. Steve Harrington, meanwhile, has one mission: keep you from digging too deep. Convinced that a few charming smiles would be enough to steer you away from your investigation after learning you once had a crush on him in high school, he quickly realizes things are far more complicated than he expected.
⚾ Night Owls 🌙 (soon)
→ You anonymously host a podcast where students send in their confessions. Steve is a regular listener who usually stays silent but calls in that night. You don't know who he is. Until a story told on the podcast makes you realize who is hiding behind the messages.
⚾Power Outages (soon)
→ For some time now, power outages have been hitting Hawkins on a regular basis, always near your house. You're convinced the same figure is involved: you've spotted him at the scene of every incident, but you have no idea who he is, always hidden beneath a hood. In reality, he's trying to seal rifts that keep reappearing. The problem? The more he pushes you away to keep you safe, the more determined you become to follow him.
⚾The Returned (soon)
→ During your final journey into the Upside Down to defeat Vecna, the last gate closed behind you and Jonathan, leaving the rest of the group devastated by your disappearance. For you, only a few days have passed. For Hawkins, five long years have gone by. When you finally return, you find a world you no longer recognize... and a Steve who has learned to live without you.
A/N: you guys don’t know how excited I am that you like this, I truly love you all so much. I’ve wanted to specify a couple things, Maeve’s a character that I crafted based on my personal experiences as an autistic woman, so some of you may find her annoying, but she will change throughout the storyline. THIS IS A SLOW BURN!! I want the feeling to build slowly so there’s space for both of them to grow. Hope you guys enjoy this, and if you want to be moots I’d be honoured.
A Steve Harrington x oc (Maeve Byers) fanfic
Also if you want more content I have a Pinterest board (here) and a TikTok (here). This is also cross posted on Wattpad (here), I have more chapters posted there if you want to check them out.
summary: fresh off of a breakup, followed by getting laid off from your teaching job, you’re down on your luck and two inches away from being flat broke. your friend gets you into a bottle service gig at her swanky bar, The Goldfinch. you show up to your first shift, unsure if you’re cut out to schmooze patrons, unclear on the expectations of the extent of your duties, and most definitely not expecting to meet a quiet man with kind eyes who’s feeling beaten up by a string of relationships that never lead anywhere, no matter how desperately he wants them to. as you and steve get to know each other over late night drives, shared dinners, and one swanky gala, you realize you just might have found your knight in shining armor.
a/n: this is my submission for @moonstoneandmoonlight and @graywrenhart’s summer sleepover event! Pretty Woman is one of my favorite romcoms and the inspiration for the series :)
𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: steve harrington x reader
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: old money!steve, waitress!reader, slow burn, enemies-ish to lovers, idiots in love, mutual pining
♡ · · · ♡ · · · ♡
The card room is full of men old enough to be your father.
Some are old enough to be your grandfather.
They all call each other by their last names and gamble away more money in a single hand than you make in six months, all while finding the time to tell you you'd look prettier if you smiled.
The tips are obscene, though.
So you smile.
You refill glasses before anyone has to ask and laugh politely at jokes that haven't been funny in thirty years.
You pocket your tips. You move on.
Until one Thursday, someone new walks in.
He couldn't be more than a year or two older than you.
Maybe not older at all.
He's got the kind of face rich boys seem to keep well into their thirties: hazel eyes that catch warmth in the low chandelier light, a strong nose and soft, full lips. Thick brown hair that refuses to stay in place, falling forward in a way that looks accidental even though you know it probably took a 300-dollar haircut to make it look that effortless.
He's dressed simply—pale blue Oxford shirt with the sleeves rolled to his forearms and dark slacks—but everything about him is stupidly expensive if you know what you're looking for.
The watch, the loafers. The clean, understated cologne and the heavy gold signet ring on his left hand.
Old money.
Of course.
Another trust-fund prince getting dragged in by his daddy to “learn the family business.”
You grab the bourbon ordered for seat four—two fingers of Woodford Reserve over fresh ice—and carry it across the room.
He glances up as you set the glass beside him.
Unfortunately...
He's somehow even better-looking up close.
His eyes are stupidly big, lashes stupidly long. There's a scattering of tiny moles across his left cheek, little imperfections that stop him from looking carved out of marble.
Rich boy's got a nice face.
Shame about everything else.
His eyes catch yours for a moment before he gives you a polite nod.
“Thanks, honey.”
Then his attention drops right back to his cards.
You blink.
Honey?
Who the fuck is this guy?
He's your age.
Maybe younger.
You've got seventy-year-old regulars who've been calling waitresses “sweetheart” and “doll” since before you were born, but somehow hearing it from someone who probably still remembers freshman orientation is infinitely more irritating.
You turn on your heel before he catches the expression crossing your face.
Trust-fund asshole.
Probably couldn't tell you what a gallon of milk costs if you put a gun to his head.
Fuck that guy.
· · ·
Well.
Turns out, trust-fund asshole is good at poker.
Disgustingly good.
He’s not loud about it either; that’s what the older men hate most.
For almost an hour, he folds hand after hand, absently spinning that signet ring around his finger while everyone else slowly convinces themselves that he's way out of his depth.
So it's almost funny, when this twenty-something-year-old cleans out someone who's been playing cards since before he was born.
You have to bite back a laugh when one of the regulars slams his cards down hard enough to rattle everyone's glasses.
Serves him right.
By the time you make another round, half the table is bleeding chips.
Everyone's in a foul mood.
Everyone except for seat four.
You set another Woodford beside him.
“Thanks, honey.”
He smiles, this time.
The corners of his hazel eyes pinch with it, little creases fanning outward. It gives him an almost boyish look, rounding out his cheeks, smoothing away the sharp lines of his face until there’s something disarmingly gentle about him.
Huh.
Then he goes right back to looking at his cards.
Asshole.
· · ·
The game finally breaks sometime after midnight.
You're clearing glasses when you notice a thick wad of cash tucked under silver-spoon dickhead's—seat four's—empty tumbler.
You assume it's meant for the cashier... until you pick it up.
It's all hundreds.
A lot of hundreds.
You count it once. Then again. Then a third time because surely, surely, there’s no way.
Your head snaps up toward the entrance and find him standing by the coat room, shrugging into a camel-colored cashmere overcoat that could probably cover your student loans three times over.
You hurry after him before common sense can stop you.
“Hey! Um, excuse me!”
He turns.
“I think, uh...” You hold up the money. “I think you made a mistake.”
His eyes drift over your face, then flick down to the wad of cash pinched between your fingers—fifty crisp hundred-dollar bills.
He blinks at you, those ridiculous lashes fanning against his cheeks, his brows drawing together like he honestly can't figure out why you’ve chased him down.
A tiny little crease appears between his brows, which would almost be cute if he wasn't so disgustingly wealthy.
“Did I?”
“...Yeah.”
He studies the cash for another second before understanding dawns on his face.
“Oh.” He gives a small shrug. “No.”
“No?”
“That wasn’t a mistake. It was for you.”
You laugh, because that's insane.
To someone who just walked away with well over a hundred thousand dollars, five grand probably feels like buying coffee.
To you, it's rent. It's gas, tuition, groceries, bills. An entire semester where you wouldn't have to hold you breath every time you swiped your debit card.
“I... I can't take this.”
His brows pull together again. “Why not?”
You stare at him.
“Because it's... five thousand dollars? That's—” You huff another disbelieving laugh. “I mean, that's just... way too much for a tip.”
He glances back toward the card room, then back at you.
Smiles, just a little.
“Didn't seem like too much from where I was sitting.”
You open your mouth, but nothing comes out.
And before you can think of another reason to refuse a tip worth more than your savings account, he's already shrugging the rest of his coat on, straightening the lapel with an absent swipe of his thumb.
He turns toward the door, making it only three steps before he pauses.
One hand settled on the brass handle, he glances back over his shoulder.
“You're here Thursdays, right?”
It takes you a second to answer.
“...Yeah?”
His smile comes back.
“Great.”
He tucks his hands into his coat pockets, gives you a little nod, and heads for the door.
“I'll see you next week, honey.”
And then he's gone.
· · ·
He comes back the next Thursday.
And the Thursday after that.
By week five, you've learned his name.
By week six, you've stopped rolling your eyes every time he calls you honey.
By week seven, he starts lingering after the games instead of disappearing the second the last hand is dealt.
One night, you're hauling a crate of empty glasses toward the bar when, without warning, the weight disappears.
You glance up to see a pair of hazel eyes blinking down at you—a warm, boyish smile on those plush lips, almost sheepish, like he's not sure if you're going to let him help or tell him to get lost.
You raise a brow. “Uh, I'm pretty sure that's not your job.”
“No, it’s not,” he agrees easily.
“Then why are you doing it?”
He shrugs like the answer couldn't possibly be complicated.
“Gets me an extra five minutes.”
“Five minutes?”
“With you.”
He says it so casually that it takes a second for the words to actually land.
And when your face flares with heat, you’re grateful he’s too busy balancing the crate to notice.
· · ·
After that, Thursdays become a little easier.
The job is still the job—the endless dance of dodging wandering hands, stepping away from men who mistake a smile for an invitation and politely slipping your wrist free from people old enough to know better.
But Steve Harrington becomes your bright spot.
He never touches you unless you’re handing him a glass.
He’s the only man in the room who doesn’t let his eyes linger on your ass or snap his fingers to get your attention.
He always arrives ten minutes early.
Always orders the same Woodford Reserve. Always says thank you.
Always calls you honey.
You learn little things about him.
That he tips everyone far more than necessary.
That he folds cocktail napkins into perfect little squares whenever he’s lost in thought.
That his thumb always finds the gold signet ring on his finger when he’s making a decision.
That he taps it twice against the felt whenever he’s nervous about a bluff.
(You never tell him you figured that one out.)
You learn that Steve doesn’t talk much about his work or his family.
Instead, he asks about you.
Your classes, your major. The exam you mentioned weeks ago that he somehow remembers without you ever bringing it up again.
You tell yourself he’s probably just like that with everyone.
That Steve Harrington is simply the kind of person who makes people feel noticed.
Special.
You never quite believe it.
· · ·
One Thursday, the game wraps up just before midnight after two of the regulars call it early.
The older men filter out puffing expensive cigars, grumbling about bad beats and rematches.
You're halfway through counting your tips when Steve appears beside the bar.
Hands tucked into the pockets of a navy wool coat, rocking back on his heels.
He waits until you look up.
“Hi.”
“Hey.”
And Steve Harrington—poker prodigy, heir to whatever impossible amount of money his family had sitting around—suddenly looks unsure of himself.
Which is new.
And, admittedly, a little adorable.
You set your money down.
“Everything okay?”
“Yeah.” He answers too quickly, then clears his throat. “Yeah. I just—can I ask you something?”
You eye him suspiciously.
“With you? Depends.”
A small smile pulls at his mouth.
“Fair.”
He pulls his hand from his coat pocket, resting it on the bar between you. His thumb brushes over the gold signet ring on his finger, twisting it slowly.
“Well, I was just wondering, if you're done for the night...”
Tap. Tap.
Two soft taps against the bar top.
You bite back a smile.
“Would you let me take you to dinner?”
You blink.
“...Right now?”
“Yeah.”
“It's midnight.”
“Late dinner, then?”
His expression is so serious that you have to bite back another laugh.
Steve watches you, a faint smile tugging at his own mouth.
“What?”
You shake your head, reaching for your jacket.
“Nothing.”
“No, what?”
You look back at him, pursing your lips.
“You’re just... so different from what I thought you’d be.”
He tilts his head slightly, a flicker of amusement creasing his expression. He’s not offended in the slightest—if anything, he looks intrigued.
Steve Harrington has never been someone who seemed bothered by other people’s opinions of him.
“In a good way or a bad way?”
You consider him for a moment, taking in the guy you were so sure you had figured out from the second he walked through the door.
This boy you’d dismissed as just another entitled douchebag, who turned out to be so downright strange—awkward where you expected arrogance, thoughtful where you expected indifference.
PAIRING; joe keery x fem!reader
SYNOPSIS; you're a friend of the stranger things cast and following the end of the series, you find yourself closer and closer to joe – and the fans pick up on it instantly.
WARNINGS; angst...
NOTE; face claim varies from post to post! just pretend they're all you. if you address the time stamps on anything im gonna eat you.
TAGLIST; @spideyzzn @webelong2gether @sexyvixen7 @kyzpixie @shaunagooner @dedicated-simp @djowantsyourvideo @prettyfortucker @nancywalkemdownwheeler @whysoseahrious @needjoekeery @fr3veryng @ripnanamin @multifandombliss @belongtoyou-u @pwincessangelmouse @redhexx @snowgirlieee @yikesdrama @basicbbeingbasic @lovrsinthedark @1011008 @izzycstairs @nataliaginkgo @disiscami @idontfeelsogoodallmight @dopeysunflowers @soobinspandulce @june-3-bug @hexyissy @borhapparker @lizzygranteded @mads-writes-vibes @littlepippilongstocking @beep2202020 @amirafloral @keepdriving @lilymayj @ttttt127 @thoroughlymimi @batmanssssss @enchantingduckbird @usteadyophelia @isabellaxlilah @hermionelaufeyson @runicjesterquake @ilikereadinghardcoresmut @msdankworthpotter @wtfaidhblog @djobrina1 @xbethanyx @bunnygirlsephi @inth3-meantime @xx-anastasia-xx @fangirlll2000 @mixx-n-nix @kylorensbaby @lilacdreamrxo @inlovewfictionalmen826 @heartheejake @whoxoxovi @alwaysreenie @djocalpurnia @jjs-harrington @djosprincesss @toglipy @sweatydjoshoes
lmk if you wanna be added !
[ PT.1 ] [ PT.2 ] [ PT.3 ] [ PT.4 ] [ PT.5 ] [ PT.6 ] [ PT.7 ] [ PT. 8 ]
Liked by jjacob.elordi, oliviarodrigo, djotime, and 5.9M others
yourusername like i said, i try to be the chill girl but honestly i'm not
View 998,928 comments
oliviarodrigo my favorite singer songwriter and ghostwriter
yourusername my favorite everything
lilymhe so beautiful !!
yourusername no that's you !!
sadiesink_ love
❤️ Liked by creator
calebmclaughlin why are you never just in new york
yourusername duty calls
user9 hi so why are both jacob elordi AND djo in the likes
user77 y/n has been shit stirring i can tell
user0 shes so effortlessly cool it actually flabbergasts me
Liked by yourusername, gatenmatarazzo, charlie.r.heaton, and 3.7M others
djotime thank you msg, always a blast 👏
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gatenmatarazzo and you didnt think to tell me about this 🖕
djotime and you commented that on my couch on my wifi
charlie.r.heaton come back to england
djotime 🫡
user4 Y/N IN THE LIKES HALLELUJAH BICEPS IN THE POST HALLELUJAH LIFE IS GOOD HALLELUJAH
user67 y/n in the likes👀
user0 wait so how is she gonna write that heart wrenching album and then a week later be liking his slut posts 🧐
username19 please like those are my friends💔
user117 wait im crying how is this a slut post
user8 you don't js post thirst traps when you're in the predicament he's in he might as well js do an only fans account atp like ok bitch we see you don't miss arm day bye
user2 YEO THIS IS ACC FRYING ME THIS HAS TO BE Y/N'S BURNER ACCOUNT
Liked by oliviarodrigo, calebmclaughlin, djotime, and 7.6M others
yourusername extra, extra, read all about it! i'm going on tour 🌟 presale is june 1st, general admission is june 5th for my 'philophobia' tour. be there or be square
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oliviarodrigo will be there!!
calebmclaughlin is there a best friends discount
sadiesink_ they grow up so fast 🥹
finnwolfhardofficial so hype
gatenmatarazzo you didnt think to tell me about this huge announcement before!!?!
mayahawke gosh im so proud of you and i will 100% be there
nattyice my giiiiirl
sabrinacarpenter yes!
devhynes so proud
user1 i never win these giveaways
user9 omg im so fucking excited
user0 YAYAYAYAAYAAY
user5 does anyone know who's opening for her?
user11 idk fs but a lot of people on twitter are speculating it's gonna be post animal which is the band djo was a part of which he later left for stranger things but he recently reunited with them. if this is true i wonder if she's inviting post animal ft djo or no😭👀
Liked by charlie.r.heaton, sadiesink_, nattyice, and 2.9M others
djotime post production
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charlie.r.heaton extremely cool
nattyice can't wait to see the final result !!
gatenmatarazzo yo you're actually not real
djotime ???
calebmclaughlin when i fumble a bad bitch so i have to make myself busy to distract myself from it😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭
gatenmatarazzo LMAOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
finnwolfhardofficial ouuu shiii he's gonna block you😭💔
djotime gtfo 😠
maya_hawke when you see bro getting cooked for an opinion you lowk agree with 👀
user12 BYEEEE
user0 omfg im such a friendship cuck pls i love tbis
Liked by djotime, sarahmargaretqualley23, oliviarodrigo, and 7.7M others
yourusername happy tour eve!! 💓
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oliviarodrigo i'm so excited
sadiesink_ that's my girl
stinkyjavi it's gonna be a blast 👏
bigsmatt had the best time prepping with you all!
user55 so y/n and joe don't follow each other but they js keep liking each others stuff.. oh ok fairs
user7 oh my god valentine
user3 Y/N GOING ON TOUR WITH POST ANIMAL THIS IS SO HAPPENING
user4 nOW WE JS HAVE TO SEE IF JOE IS A PART OF THAT
user00 wait. whos that on slide 3...
user1 i think i see something looking at me thru that window👀
Liked by djotime, bigsmatt, sadiesink_, and 7M others
yourusername night 1 of my philophobia tour 🌟 thank you so so so much to each and every one of you for making this possible.
View 967,139 comments
djotime 👏👏👏
bigsmatt we're honored you let us open for you!!
stinkyjavi fantastic performance, as usual
b.i.g.s.h.r.i.m.p so proud of you 😄
sadiesink_ my best friend i love you sm you amaze me
yourusername i love you best friend
calebmclaughlin i knew you before you were famous remember that
finnwolfhardofficial yeah same👀
gatenmatarazzo psa she told us we weren't getting a friendship discount 🤬 she's only doing this for the money cancel her rn
yourusername js a mess in my comments 🙄
oliviarodrigo i'm so serious this was truly one of the best performances i've ever witness
yourusername aaww livy you're the best
user2 omg bring me there bring me there bring me there
user0 OMG JOE WAS THERE AND PERFORMED!!! i went and omfg he played chateau too
user7 NO FUCKING WAY
Liked by user1, user5, user33, and 81,207 others
celebgossip charlie heaton, finn wolfhard, maya hawke, joe keery (& sisters), natalia dyer, and caleb mclaughlin at y/n's show last night! gaten matarazzo and sadie sink were additionally there but they were not pictured
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user3 oh ok this is life changing
user9 and sisters?!!??!!?!?!??!?!
user4 oh he cleaned his act up with HASTE
user2 wait i'm crying i love them all sm and i love how they all love her sm 🙁
user9 this inspired me to text my ex ❤️
Liked by user0, user9, user5, and 99,871 others
celebgossip y/n y/l/n and joe keery seen together after the first night of her tour! is it official they're back together? what do you guys think?
View 78,210 comments
user3 omfg im crying they wasted no time???????😭
user5 anyone considering texting their ex: pls do not, they are soulmates so they are the exception
user0 MOM AND DAD
user4 WAR IS OVER.
user2 OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD
Liked by djotime, badbunnypr, sabrinacarpenter, and 6.9M others
yourusername night 2 🤍 thank you nyc for a great time, i couldn't imagine a better opener. i can't wait to see you in a week atlanta!
djotime wow
yourusername ew 🤮
user4 baby idk sources are saying you had your tongue in his mouth last night
user9 @/user4 IM CTFU
user0 @/user4 HELLOOOOO LEAVE MY GIRL ALONEE
mini series, in which you experience five different dates with Steve Harrington • online dating app AU •
date zero: the match
summary: you never believed in the magic of dating apps, but what happens when the algorithm introduces you to a particularly attractive man, who also has a great personality...and other fine qualities?
content warnings: afab reader, no y/n used—you can tell i tried so hard for it to not be included. reader doesn't like dating apps and prefers meeting people irl (don't come for me if you don't agree with her please). reader and steve are 27 and live in New York, because why not! steve works as a manager for a big company, because again, why not! use of pet names (gorgeous), anxious reader, sexual themes (mention of f!masturbation), but it's generally sweet!
this whole series will feel like a diary, and is very much rom-com coded. it's also full of sexual references and smut! mdni please!
a/n: posting before going on vacation in case i won't be able to get good internet connection there lmao. i dedicate this one to my tinder-obsessed friend and all the atrocious guys she's met there! still, ily very much
You never really thought it would get to this point, but here you were—the moment came.
Through years, no matter how many of your relationships failed, and how much your friends encouraged you to "just get on the internet", you still weren't convinced.
Going into the online dating world felt scary. You were around to hear many tales about how tiring it was, how trial and error it felt—merely searching for someone...normal. You never really considered any good outcomes, nor any advantages.
Meeting people and connecting with them in real life has always been easier to you. You felt like you had more control—your previous partners always happened to be "a friend of a friend", or you met them in a "hey, you would totally click with my cousin!" type of way. Having these connections felt more secure.
Maybe it was close-minded of you, to keep everything in a circle like that, but you were fine with it. It was comfortable, knowing their background, for the most part at least.
Your relationships ended in many different ways, and made you feel a lot of bad things. Insecure as fuck? Like you were a burden and not enough? Check and check, but none of them ever made you feel unsafe or scared for your life.
Sure, there's no guarantee that one of them wouldn't turn out to be a serial killer, but it felt better to meet people from a...somehow trusted source (note for future reference, dating your best friend's relative does not always end well).
So, to you, online dating was risky, somewhat vulnerable (because you had to admit to yourself that finding love, out in the real world like you preferred, just wasn't in the cards for you), and tiring as hell.
Because when you actually got on the app? Oh god.
Some conversations felt like losing brain cells, some were straight up disgusting, and some didn't even happen! Seriously, why bother swiping right if you're just going to leave the message on read? Don't get my hopes up, please.
Until that one evening.
You were sitting on your couch, sipping red wine just right after deleting another chat that included an unsolicited dick pic. You lost count of how many of those you went through by now.
And then you saw him.
You swiped right almost immediately. He was really fucking handsome, with cute little moles scattered across his face, impressively styled brown hair, and wearing this beige sweater that looked so insanely soft.
Steve, 2 miles away from you.
Damn, that was actually really close for the entirety of New York (and maybe even more than that, because the preferred radius you put in was...well, pretty desperate).
You found yourself smiling at the content of his profile—the way he described how he cherished his friends, how family, not necessarily by blood, was an important part of his life, and how he dreamed of a bunch of kids and a happy home.
Yeah, seemed to have his priorities clear, with a stable job as a manager of a big company too. Impressive, you had to admit.
There had to be something off about him though, right? He was perfect on paper, but you survived enough encounters to know that "perfect on paper" can turn out to be the only good thing to say about someone.
But, to your surprise, "it's a match!" appeared in bolt letters before you.
And to more of your surprise, he texted you almost immediately.
Steve: didn't think i'd find someone as gorgeous as you on this app.
You just stared at the message, reading it over and over. God, you were such a loser, folding over some cheesy line already, the image of his pretty face still fresh in your mind.
Steve: soo...hi, nice to meet you! i'm steve, 27 and ready to finally meet someone for life. what about you?
You liked that, the straightforwardness. Already stating his expectations, like he didn't want to waste anyone's time. That one was new (well, unless you count the message "snapchat?" in your inbox as stating expectations).
You: hello, nice to meet you :) well, other than that my name isn't steve, everything else seems to check out just the same
It was a little dumb, maybe not your best, but you felt like he was a person who appreciates the lighter side of things.
Steve: thank goodness, because i was dreading having to say goodbye so soon.
Steve: although your name not being steve is a bit of a turn off for me :/
You giggled at the way he followed your dumb joke, quickly forming a response.
Fuck, he was charming as hell, and it already worked for you.
It worked so well in fact, that from that point in time, the two of you texted almost non stop.
He was at work—he still texted. He was at home—he texted. He was hanging out with friends—still tried to text.
And you? The fucking same.
You woke up—you texted him. You were going to bed—you texted him. You were eating dinner—you still texted him.
Steve becoming a part of your daily routine felt natural. There was no big awkwardness, no droughts in conversations, no icks and red flags oozing from him.
He was really funny, and you found yourself laughing at your phone more times than you'd like to admit. His storytelling was on point, keeping things interesting and entertaining as hell.
Steve: and this dumbass had the nerve to say "it's literally your cat".
Steve: dude, you picked it up from the street five minutes ago.
Steve: like, he actually showed up at my doorstep and tried to convince me that it's mine.
You smiled as he walked you through yet another silly story of his life—he seemed to have a lot of those at this point.
You: and what did you do?
Steve: ...
Steve: ...i became a cat owner...
God, he was so precious.
Two whole weeks of this, and then he asked if he could call you. No big deal, you were a grown adult...but damn if you didn't stress just a little.
Texting was easy—not giving away your whole reactions (like every time when he called you beautiful and you ran a lap around your couch), time to respond, to think and not say something stupid.
But oh, how glad you were when you agreed and finally heard him say "hello, gorgeous". That voice, that tone, almost melting you through the screen.
Your nerves subsided almost instantly. Talking with him was easy, he was a great listener and a great conversationalist (you were still impressed, even though you already got familiar with that side of him).
The call lasted four whole hours. You cooked your dinner while having him on speaker, and he even took care of some paperwork while still managing to get the conversation going.
"You sure you don't want me to hang up? I really don't want to bother you while you work." you said then, anxiously picking at the hem of your shirt.
It's not like you wanted to stop talking, of course not, but the thought of being an inconvenience to him was weirdly heavy on your chest.
"You won't bother me, promise." he answered, his voice soft and comforting. "I want to keep talking, okay?"
You sighed, your shoulders easing slightly at his tone. "But what if I distract you and you make a mistake or something? Wouldn't you be mad?"
The faint rustling of papers coming from his side stopped, a moment of silence settling on the line.
Then, he spoke slowly, with an obvious confused pang to his voice. "Why would I get mad at you? I'd be the one making the mistake."
"I just–" you started, but couldn't come up with any explanation, his reassurance surprisingly effective. "I don't know."
"So, tell me about that room renovation you mentioned" he swiftly changed the subject, the tension in your shoulders completely gone as you answered.
"I'm thinking of repainting my walls, some light shade of green, but I haven't decided yet."
"You need help picking?" he offered, the clicking of his laptop keyboard soft in the background. His ability to multitask was seriously impressive.
"Oh, that'd be great, thanks."
"My pleasure." he said, his voice revealing a slight smile. "What else did you have in mind?"
So you talked about all the ideas you had, and he listened just as intently as always. It was easy, it was fun, it felt good to just be there with him.
And when it was time to say goodbye...God, you had to stop yourself from practically whimpering at his words.
"Goodnight, gorgeous. Hopefully we'll see each other soon." he said then, his breath slightly out of place. "I can't wait to– Fuck, I'm just dying to meet you."
The way he said it, his voice... And you were sure he wanted to say much more than that.
Steve didn't treat you like a dating app match. No, not anymore. It was way past that already.
You wanted him to want you—unwrap and completely discover all the layers, mind and body.
He could turn you on so easily. Damn, even when he was telling you about his day at work and all the responsible things he did...
You really were getting old, because, seriously? That turned you on?
But it did, and despite yourself, that night you ended up tangled in your sheets, fingers going in and out of your wet entrance as the name "Steve" danced on your lips over and over, and over again.
The next day, you woke up to two new messages.
Steve: would you like to go on a date with me?
Steve: a real one.
Your movements stilled upon seeing his texts. Did he really want to? Was this really happening?
Your fingers hovered over the screen, deciding which response would be the most appropriate. The letters appeared and disappeared just as quickly, your head spinning from excitement, undecided what to write back.
Finally, when you stopped dissecting every little thought and doubt in your mind, you just typed out four simple words.
