You Can Hear It In The Silence
Steve Harrington x Bestfriend!Fem!Reader
Summary: Steve may be a brat, but heâs your brat - and you get possessive when you think another girl is trying to move in on your man best friend.
WC: 4.4k
Warnings & What to Expect: yearning and insecure reader, Steve being a brat and reader is bratty too lol, friends to lovers trope, pet name Angel đ„č brief mentions of alcohol, angst with happy ending!
Masterlist If Interested!
Peachâs Note: this is a combo of this request for girly reader, and this request for being in an argument with Steve. thank you anons for helping me come up with this fun idea!!
i veered a bit, and didnât get too into detail about reader being girly - itâs more so about comparing herself to the other girls that Steve sees⊠but hoping yâall still enjoy!! đ©·
tysm to everyone showing love on my works - it means the world. requests are open! feel free to send anything Steve, Gator, OR Keys related (have my first one for him up my sleeve already) and I can certainly try my best đ«Ą
pls know that it takes me a bit to get my ideas down, so it may not be a quick turn around đ«¶đ»
It was a well known fact that Steve Harrington could be a brat.
As his best friend, you knew better than anyone about the snippy and petty remarks that he would make towards others when he was pissed off about something.
He never directed those comments toward you though - which is why when he rolled his eyes and made a sharp jab your way during an argument, you decided to give him the silent treatment.
Because while he may be your brat, heâs certainly not allowed to be bratty towards you without consequences.
âAre you seriously not going to talk to me?â Steve whines pathetically once he realizes youâre ignoring him.
You donât answer verbally. Instead, you curl in on yourself, turning to face the passenger window.
âOh, câmon, Angel. Donât be like that,â he begs, throwing you a look before turning back to the road.
You fight the urge to retort a witty comeback about how he shouldâve thought about the repercussions of his actions, but you were determined to not speak to him until he apologized and meant it.
âYou realize that you canât realistically ignore me the whole evening, right?â Steve grips the steering wheel tighter, knuckles whitening at the hold heâs got on it.
You huff out an angry breath of disagreement, despite the fact that you know heâs right since youâre on the way to watch Eddieâs band play at The Hideout with the rest of your friends.
Steve tries again, âYouâre killing me here. I promise, I really didnât mean to be rude to you.â
You bite your tongue and want to tell him that the intent didnât matter because it came off that way. Itâs also not an apology, so you continue to stare dejectedly out the window, thinking back on the hurtful words that slipped past those plush pink lips of his.
Steve was over at your place, sitting on your bed - watching you finish getting ready when he started yapping about the latest girl heâd been casually hooking up with and why he ended things with her.
Hearing about it made an ugly jealous feeling twist inside of your chest, because youâve had a thing for him ever since high school, but he was too clueless to see it.
He was complaining about how the girl was late to everything and how it made him feel like an afterthought.
âWell, maybe you should date someone punctual,â you press, emphasizing the word because heâs always teasing you about your need to get to places early.
Steve shakes his head, âI donât know. I mean, I like her a lot. I just feel like thereâs something missing.â
You curl the wand of mascara over your eyelashes one last time before huffing out a breath of frustration, âObviously.â
Steve furrows his eyebrows, âWhatâs that supposed to mean?â
You fight the urge to yell at him that itâs you thatâs missing - that heâs supposed to be with you, and thatâs why he nitpicks each girl heâs with.
Instead you shove that thought deep back into the crevices of your brain, âIt means you always find something wrong about the girls you date, Steve.â
He scoffs, âNo, I donât.â
âYes, you do,â you point the mascara stick in his direction, twisting back around to cap it and pick up your tube of lip gloss.
âI do not. I just have standards, you know?â He says, but it sounds more like heâs trying to convince himself than you.
You purse your lips together, spreading the color evenly, âWhatever you say, lover boy.â
The nickname makes him annoyed, because you only ever called him that when you were being flippant.
âGod, get off my back about it. Itâs not like your opinion about who I go out with even matters,â Steve lashes out.
With anyone else you mightâve backed down, but because heâs your best friend, you fight back.
âThen stop being a bitch, Harrington. Iâm sick of you whining about a new girl every time we hang out,â you grumble.
You knew you werenât playing nice, but you were sick of him searching for something that was right in front of him. Plus the comment about your opinion not mattering hurt much more than you cared to admit, which made you defensive.
âOh, Iâm the one being a bitch?â Steve snaps sarcastically, and you instantly see regret washing over his face once the insult is out.
Your jaw drops at that, âExcuse me?â
âI didnât actually call you a -,â he starts, but you cut him off.
âBut you were thinking it, werenât you?â You clench your teeth, fighting the urge to cry.
âNo, Angel. I promise, thatâs not what I meant,â he sighs heavily.
âIf Iâm such a bitch, Steve, then why are we even friends?â You fold your arms over your chest.
Steve pinches the bridge of his nose, âYouâre not. Iâm sorry.â
You laugh bitterly, âThatâs a sad excuse for an apology.â
Steve gets mad at that, throws up hands in defeat, âWhy are you pissed? You called me one first!â
âBecause youâre always talking behind these girls' backs, Steve. And youâre only upset because I called you out on it,â you turn away from him, spritz your perfume on your wrists before storming out of your bedroom.
Steve scrambles to get up, tripping over his feet a little - following you down the stairs as you head towards the front door of your home.
âWhere the hell are you going?â He calls after you.
âUnlike your new girlfriend, I donât want to be late,â you retort.
Steve groans, âSheâs not my girlfriend.â
You donât bother answering, just make your way outside and to his car - waiting impatiently for him to unlock it.
Steve rounds the car, because heâll be damned if he doesnât open the passenger door for you, even when youâre angry with him.
But being stubborn, you block him from getting to the handle.
âCan you not?â Steve narrows his eyes at you.
âSorry, am I being a bitch?â You bite, and Steve mutters something under his breath.
âJust let me open the door for you,â he reaches out to try to gently pry your fingers off the handle.
âPlease, Angel?â He says quietly when your hand refuses to move, and god does that nickname make you crumble easily.
You concede, stepping to the side. Once you slide into the Beamer, you decide that you donât want to waste your breath arguing with him anymore - making the decision to keep quiet until he says heâs sorry; and not just because he felt like he should, but because he believed it.
You knew you were kind of being a bitch, especially since you called him one, but you were incredibly fed up with him acting like his love life was in shambles and expecting you to help clean up the mess.
As Steveâs pulling the car into the gravel lot, heâs still trying to get you to break and talk to him, but you scamper out before heâs even fully parked.
You find Robin leaning against the bar and grab onto her bicep, causing the drink she had in her hand to slosh slightly over the rim.
âI need you to sit next to me in the booth,â you inform her - cutting your eyes to the front door where Steveâs making his way inside.
âShit, where did you come from?â She quips.
You grab a napkin and hand it over to help her clean up the spilled liquid, âSorry. Iâm just super annoyed with Steve and donât want to sit next to him.â
She looks at him, âWhat did the dingus do now?â
âHe keeps shoving his hopeless love life in my face. As if I want to hear about that when Iâm in love with him,â you ramble.
Robin quirks an eyebrow up at you, âNeed I remind you that you havenât told him that?â
âAnd he also insinuated that I was being a bitch,â you add.
Robin looks sufficiently upset for you, âWhat an asshole.â
âAfter I told him that was being one,â you tag on sheepishly.
âOh,â she laughs a little at the ridiculousness of it all.
She quiets when Steve makes his way over to the two of you, and his eyes narrow suspiciously at her lack of words, âWhat, did she convince you not to talk to me either?â
âIâll have you know Iâm my own person, Harrington. If Iâm not talking to you itâs of my own free will,â Robin replies.
Steve snorts at that, turning to the bartender and ordering himself a beer and the drink of your choice - extending an olive branch that you werenât quite ready to take.
âRobin Buckley not talking? Sure, totally believable,â he teases.
Robinâs mouth drops open in mock offense, and itâs then that Eddie interferes - steering the conversation in a different direction.
âHey! You guys made it. Whereâs the happy couple?â Eddie inquires, sliding up to the three of you and slinging his arm over your shoulder.
âTheyâre on their way. Nance got off work late,â you reply, leaning into Eddieâs embrace - throwing a discreet glance towards Steve whose jaw seems to tighten at the action.
Eddieâs eyes flick between the two of you, âOoh, are Mommy and Daddy fighting?â
You shove his arm off you, âShut up, Eddie.â
He grins at you, âSorry, sunshine. You just look like youâre about to bite Harringtonâs head off with that glare youâre giving him.â
âI kinda want to,â you mutter under your breath.
Steve looks all pouty at that, âReal mature.â
Eddie decides to drop it and turns to Robin.
âIs Vic coming?â He asks.
Robin sighs, âI couldnât coax her to take a break from studying.â
âToo bad. Oh, by the way. Thereâs someone I want you guys to meet,â Eddie flags a girl down thatâs trailing behind him and gestures for her to come over to your group.
He introduces you to the girl, and you know instantly that youâre doomed to watch Steve try to gain her interest when you see how heâs staring at her.
Steve immediately takes her hand, giving her that stupidly charming smile of his. You feel an ache at the way his eyes light up when she laughs at something he says - something you didnât catch because the rushing sound in your ears from the pounding of your heart is too loud.
You instantly feel insecurity wash over you, because you looked absolutely nothing like the girl.
And god, was she gorgeous too.
You wanted her to open her mouth and say something that would give you a reason to hate her, but she didnât - which almost made your envy over her that much worse because she was sweet.
She leans closer to Steve to hear him better, and you canât help but notice how he angles his body in response.
Bile rises in your throat, and your breathing picks up tenfold - an anxious feeling stirs inside of you at watching them together.
âSo sorry weâre late. My boss is a total prick and threw a last minute editing problem at me,â Nancy calls from a few feet behind you - dragging Jonathan by the hand through the crowd.
They join your little circle and because Nancy is the most observant person ever, she notices your odd behavior right away.
âYou okay?â She asks softly, palm reaching out to grab delicately at your arm.
All the attention shifts to you, which you canât stand, âYeah, um, Iâm totally fine.â
You awkwardly excuse yourself to the bathroom while Eddie cues up to play. The rest of your friends get settled in the booth, and you miss the way Steveâs eyes watch you worriedly.
The bathroom is dimly lit - smelling of cigarette smoke and weed. You really donât want to stay in there for long, but youâre dreading having to spend the night watching Steve fall for another girl thatâs not you.
You stare at yourself in the mirror, tears gathering quickly as you turn around - taking in your appearance. Itâs not that you didnât like how you looked, but you couldnât help but compare yourself to every girl that Steve wanted, noticing how none of them ever seemed to resemble any qualities that you had.
Robin whips the door open and stops in her tracks when she sees you observing yourself, âWhat are you doing?â
âDo you think Steve has a type?â You confront her, wanting to know exactly whatâs wrong with you.
âWho cares?â She shrugs.
âI do, Robin. Itâs never me that he chooses,â you mumble bitterly.
âHarringtonâs loss then, right? Youâre a total babe,â Robin encourages, leaning her back against the porcelain of the sink.
âIâm sick of feeling like Iâm not,â you admit.
âNo guy is worth making you feel not good enough. Especially if that guy's supposed to be your best friend. But the only way youâre going to make him realize that is if youâre honest with him,â Robin says truthfully.
âYouâre right,â you nod with a new determination to get over your self pity and go have fun with your friends.
Robin weaves her arm through yours to walk to the table together, and you freeze when you see the girl sitting in your normal spot. Sheâs next to Steve, still talking to him about god knows what.
You feel a flare of possessiveness - which you know is stupid because you werenât even planning on sitting next to him, but you donât like the way it makes you feel replaced.
All thoughts of ignoring him flew out of the window at that moment, and you donât know what comes over you when you stand in front of the girl, âThatâs my seat.â
The table goes silent, and you hate the way your friends stare at you - making you feel like a mean girl for the move you just pulled.
âOh, Iâm sorry. I didnât realize,â the girl smiles at you - not thrown off at all, and she scooches out to take a seat next to Nancy instead.
âWhat the hell was that?â Steve says under his breath, sliding your drink over to you.
Your lips part at him remembering to grab it for you, and the automatic response of âthanksâ rests on your lips before you remember youâre supposed to be avoiding him.
Steve looks at you glumly, like he canât believe youâre still choosing not to speak to him and you nearly cave at the pleading look on his face when Corroded Coffin jumps onto the makeshift stage to perform.
You try your best to lose yourself in the music, to focus on supporting Eddie, but every time you feel Steve shift next to you - it makes you realize that he keeps checking out the girl thatâs now sitting across from you two.
Itâs torture, and youâre grateful when the Eddie announces a quick break because you know it means Steve will get up and get the next round of drinks for everyone.
âI can help,â the girl offers.
That territorial feeling floods your bones again.
âIâve got it,â you cut in snarkily.
Steve gives you a look of disbelief but doesnât argue as you follow him to the bar.
After putting the order in, he turns to you, âOkay, whatâs your deal?â
You swallow hard, starting to feel embarrassment crawl over you, and you keep your teeth clamped down.
Steveâs shoulder brushes yours as he steps into your space, âCâmon. Talk to me, please. I really am sorry, Angel. And I can tell something is going on in that pretty little head of yours.â
His hand reaches out to gently tap two fingers to your temple as he finishes speaking, and it makes you give in.
âYou were staring at her,â you state accusingly.
âI was assessing her. Thereâs a difference,â Steve defends.
âAssessing her for what, Steve?â You reply crossly, titling your head.
âTo get a read on if sheâs into Eddie, which he asked me to do. You wouldâve known if you talked to me earlier,â he gives you a pointed look.
âOh,â you breathe out.
âYeah, oh. And if you keep treating her like that, sheâs definitely not gonna want to date him,â he replies.
You look back to your group of friends - watching as the girl keeps glancing towards the stage, like sheâs counting down the moments until Eddie comes back out.
âOh god, I am a bitch,â you moan out, dropping your head into your hands.
âYouâre not. You were just being a protective friend,â Steve tries to assure you, hand resting hesitantly against your back.
You shake your head before mumbling, âItâs more than that.â
âWhat do you mean?â Steve asks curiously.
You peek at him through your fingers, panic overriding your system, âNevermind.â
âNo, no. Youâve gotta tell me now, Angel,â he laughs quietly and starts tugging at your hands.
Robinâs words flash across your mind briefly, âbut the only way youâre going to make him realize that is if youâre honest with him.â
âI should probably, um, tell you something. But it canât be here,â you answer meekly.
Steve nods in understanding, âLater, then?â
âLater,â you confirm.
When you bring the group's drinks back to the table, you spot Eddie and the girl giggling with each other - causing a new wave of guilt to wrack through you.
Youâd been blinded by your need for Steve to notice you, and you didnât like how it made you act out.
As you settle into the booth next to your best friend, you make the decision that you can no longer hide your feelings for him and ultimately, have to come clean.
The car ride back was different from the ride on the way to The Hideout, even though there was still some unresolved friction between you and Steve.
Mainly because Dustin Henderson was in the backseat since Steve promised heâd give the teenager a ride home from the Wheelerâs.
Dustin was chatting your ear off, filling the quiet that he wasnât used to. He finally addresses it as Steve rolls to a stop in front of his house.
âIâm feeling like a child of divorce,â Dustin jokes, but you donât find it funny.
âReally, Dustin?â You turn around to scowl at him.
âWhat? Obviously something weird is happening between you two. I donât like it,â he declares.
Steve huffs in annoyance, âJust get out of the car, man.â
âTough crowd,â he mutters, before opening up the car door, âmaybe fix it soon though. I can literally feel the tension between you two. What do you call it, Steve, sexual electricity?â
Steve reaches back to push at Dustinâs head, âDude.â
âDustin,â you press, feeling your face flush heatedly.
âSorry, sorry. Iâm going,â he smiles at you before closing the door.
Itâs a tad uncomfortable in the car now that Dustinâs gone - making you feel suffocated in the confined space, but finally Steveâs BMW reaches your place.
âDo you wanna come up to my room to talk?â You muster up the courage to ask.
Steve swallows thickly, nerves now wracking his body, âYeah, câmon.â
He observes your room the way he always does when he comes over. He would normally playfully joke about the softness of it, but instead he sits down on your bed, back leaning against the wall - patiently waiting for what you have to say.
âYou know how you can be a brat, right?â You ask him bluntly, sitting down next to him, curling your legs up underneath you.
He rears back and his face pinches sassily - proving your point, âWow, thanks.â
You bravely place a hand on his thigh, which makes his breath hitch at the contact, âI donât mean it in a bad way. I like that youâre bratty. I like that you donât let anyone walk all over you, besides maybe Dustin, and Robin,â you smile teasingly. He scoffs in jest, but lets you continue.
âAnd, I like that you know what you deserve from the girls youâre seeing. Itâs just,â you trail off, having second thoughts about admitting how youâve felt all along.
âJust, what?â He asks quietly, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear - itâs natural, because heâs done it a thousand times before with you, and it gives you the courage you need to be upfront.
âI donât like hearing about them, because I feel like Iâm what you deserve,â you admit.
Steveâs eyes blow wide at the confession, stunned to silence.
âIâm not trying to say that in a bragging way either or anything like that. Itâs just, I know you. I know how you take your coffee, and I know you love how your tight polo shirts make your arms look,â you watch in delight at how a blush rises up his cheeks at that, highlighting the moles and freckles that dot his skin.
âAnd I know that you secretly hate the scary movies Robin picks out-,â you start.
âI love scary movies,â he interjects.
âYou hate them. You love rom coms, and I love that you do,â you smile sweetly, âand I know when you say that youâre fine you donât really mean it, and I know that youâd do anything for the people you care about.â
His eyes start to soften - the lighting from the haze of the lamp making them look all doe like as he gazes at you.
âI know that you want a big family, and I know that being alone scares the shit out of you,â you whisper. Steveâs eyes start to go a bit glassy at that, so you reach out to interlock your fingers with his.
âI know that you think that none of these girls have ever known who you are and itâs because you donât let them in enough to see all of you, but I see you. I see every part of you, and god Iâm so in love with you it hurts,â you confess, staring down at your feet because youâve just laid your heart out in front of him - expecting a rejection thatâll cut deep.
âCâmere,â he whispers, placing his hands on your waist.
He maneuvers you so that your back is resting against his chest, and his legs are spread out on either side of you - allowing you space to settle in between them. His arms wrap around your middle, and his head drops to the crook of your neck.
âGonna tell you something, and I need you to stay facing away from me because everytime I try to tell you I freeze up. Got it?â Steve directs, and youâre already trying to turn around in his arms.
âWait, can you please just listen for a moment, Angel?â He requests, tightening his hold on you.
Steveâs nose skims along your jawline, and you melt against him, intently waiting for him to start explaining.
âYou not talking to me tonight? That mustâve been the most miserable thing to happen to me in a while,â he murmurs.
You fiddle with his fingers that are intertwined against your ribcage, silently encouraging him to keep going.
âWhen I realized you were giving me the silent treatment, I just about died,â he confesses.
âSteve,â you chide, finding his dramatics endearing.
He presses a kiss to the back of your neck in response, which makes your brain go haywire - completely taken aback by the affection heâs showing you.
âI mean it. My whole night was ruined. Couldnât stand you not giving me attention,â he smirks, âand you know why?â
âWhy?â You implore desperately.
âCause Iâve wanted you to be mine for years now,â he breathes out, voice laced with a desire that makes you bloom with want.
You canât stand it anymore - needing to turn around to see him. He helps you settle on his hips, knees digging into the cushioned material of your bedspread. His hands cup your lower back, slightly shifting you closer.
Your eyes cast down to his lips, and you suck in a ragged breath of surprise at his revelation.
âBut, the girls,â you trail off, feeling a wave of vulnerability crash into you.
Steve looks down timidly, âBecause Iâm a coward whoâs never been able to just tell you. And I could never find the right girl because none of them were you.â
You tentatively lean your forehead against his, stepping into uncharted waters by doing so.
âIâve compared myself to every single one of them, you know,â you confide, not trying to guilt him - just needing to be transparent.
Steve winces defeatedly anyway, and your hands come up to hook around his neck.
âJust thought that maybe I wasnât what you wanted and that you were trying to find someone totally different than me,â you shrug helplessly.
Steveâs hands come up to gently grasp your head, fingers splaying out along your jaw and neck tenderly, âFuck, how could I miss that youâve felt like that?â
You grab onto the collar of his shirt, twisting the material idly, âI got good at pretending not to care.â
âStill. Youâre my best friend. Should've known,â he says in aggravation.
âYou know now,â you reassure him, brushing at his cheekbone.
He nods eagerly, âGonna spend a long time making it up to you.â
âStarting now?â You grin coyly.
He hums in agreement, before pulling you flush against him, âStarting now.â
Steve presses a kiss below your jaw, working his way up until he reaches your lips. He hovers over your mouth, thumb swiping against your chin - requesting for permission to kiss you properly.
You feel like dissolving into a puddle of need at the way Steveâs expertly slotting his lips with your own - being slow about it, almost lazy in the way heâs dragging his mouth against yours.
You thread your fingers through his hair, pulling a bit to signal that you need air. Steveâs displeased about it and reluctantly lets you go.
âIâm in love with you too, by the way,â he nips at the shell of your ear, making you release a little high pitched noise.
âCute,â he murmurs, slyly moving to lay back against your bed - hauling you with him, which causes you to topple on top of him in a fit of giggles; allowing him to continue his siege of kissing your exposed skin.
You feel like you nearly have the wind knocked out of you with the way heâs looking at you, like heâs truly in love - your best friend, who you always thought wouldn't look at you the same way, has always been in love, just needed a little push from the silence.
Divider credits to @cursed-carmine
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