roommate!steve who moved out of his parents’ house so he could no longer be attached to them. only problem was - he still didn’t want to be alone.
it didn’t require much begging for your longtime best friend steve harrington to convince you to move in with him. between classes and your part-time job, you really didn’t make enough to be able to pay a full months rent. plus it was steve. what could go wrong?
roommate!steve who notices pretty early on that everything was going wrong. you got into a rhythm - he did dishes, you did the laundry. you both went grocery shopping together - unless one person was already out. you’d both host the kids once a week for games or movies. he’d use farrah fawcett - you’d pretend not to notice. you’d cook and he’d pretend it was better than it was.
but,
roommate!steve starts noticing things he probably shouldn’t.
roommate!steve knows your schedule better than his own. he always makes sure your favorite snack is stocked when you get home. he starts saying we, when people (robin), asks about his plans. he stands too close when you’re talking, finds any excuse to touch you. brings you things when you don’t ask - waits up for you when you’re out late. his mood depends on wether or not you’re home and okay. it was all starting to add up - and he realized he was falling deeper in the hole of you. but you were his best friend. his roommate. and it was wrong the way he was feeling.
roomate!steve who ignores how he feels about you to preserve the friendship until one day,
roommate!steve who when you’re gone notices you left the book you were on the couch, so he picks it up to read but falls into a world that he never knew he never knew. the stuff you were reading about should’ve been illegal - and reminds him that the last time he got laid was too long ago.
roommate!steve who notices that the more he reads about the dirty things the characters are doing, he starts imagining you doing all of the things to him. he imagines your lips, your tongue, your legs wrapped around him while he - no. you’re his best friend. he needs to stop.
roommate!steve who nearly makes himself go into cardiac arrest when somehow watching a movie together turned to cuddling, turned to him behind you spooning, to you falling asleep. he gets over-obsessed and can’t help but drag his fingers through your hair while trying to distract himself from the thought of what else could possibly happen in this position.
roommate!steve who nearly passes out when he sees you in his shirt for the first time. you told him his shirts were the softest to sleep in - and it was a tax for you doing the laundry. that you’d get whatever clothes you wanted when you saw it. he had no complaints. he tried not to notice how good your legs looked, or the curve of your ass, or the way your nipples hardened under it because you weren’t wearing a bra and there was a chill. he shook his head as if trying to dispel the thought of your nipples in his mouth.
roommate!steve who would try and think of literally anything other than how you looked in that moment so he wouldn’t sprout a real life boner right in front of you.
roommate!steve who gets off in a cold shower afterwards but feels bad because one, you’re his best friend and roommate and why was he thinking about you like this and two - why did you have to be so hot and why did he think living with you would be a good idea? why with every motion of his hand up and down his cock - did he imagine you on your knees, and your mouth around him? why when he swiped his thumb across his reddening tip - did he imagine your tongue and lips toying with him? why when he finally came did he imagine you swallowing it all and him bringing you up to kiss him? he needed to get over this - fast.
roommate!steve when he’s putting his laundry away, notices a red lacy pair of your underwear accidentally blended in with a red shirt of his. he can’t help but think of how they must have looked on you, and only feels a little guilty when he stuffs them in his drawer, instead of returning them to you.
roommate!steve who can’t help but feel a tinge of jealousy when you say you’re hanging out with a friend and won’t be home until late - and he can’t tell if you’re talking about a boy or a girl.
roommate!steve who when you get back, tries to act really nonchalant but almost crowds you at the door. “so, how was your day?” he’d ask, taking sight of you in your lowcut shirt and too-tight jeans that leave nothing to the imagination.
“good, we did a little shopping, got some food you know the usual.”
“right, right. and have i met this friend before?” steve’s voice gets a little higher in pitch.
“yeah, he -“ and that’s all steve needed to hear before he felt like he might throw up. he tries, he really does, to play it cool. he really doesn’t even hear the rest of what you say. “cool. coolcoolcool, nice, great.”
roommate!steve who the next day tries not to bring it up at breakfast, but fails miserably. “so when are you uhh seeing what’s his name again? the guy?”
you look at him curiously, but shrug his weirdness off. “tonight probably. unless we had plans i didn’t know about?”
“no.” he says quickly. “no plans.”
roommate!steve who who later that night sees you’re about to leave and tries to make up any excuse for you not to go. “you know it’s pretty late - and you know the crime around here has really gone up lately.”
“i’m pretty sure i’ll be fine, steve.”
you’re wearing a little black dress. one that hugs you in all the right places. one that makes him wonder what’s under it - and why another guy gets to see it and not him.
“or! you know what - robin might come over! she said maybe! and it’d be weird if you weren’t here because she expects you to be here and -”
“steve.”
he stops talking.
you cross your arms, trying not to smile. “why are you trying so hard to keep me home?”
“i’m not.”
he absolutely is.
he gestures vaguely at nothing. “i just think maybe you’re tired. you worked today. and your show - your show has a new episode tonight. you’d hate to miss that.”
“i can watch it tomorrow.”
he nods too fast.
“tomorrow works. tomorrow’s great. love tomorrow.”
silence.
you reach for the doorknob. his hand presses flat against the door above it before you can open it. the motion surprises both of you. the apartment goes quiet.
his voice is softer now.
“…you don’t even like him that much.”
it isn’t a question. you look up at him. “you don’t know that.”
his jaw shifts. he does that thing where he tries to swallow his feelings down instead of saying them - and fails halfway through.
“i just don’t get why you wanna go out with some guy you barely know when you could…”
he trails off.
“when i could what?”
his eyes flicker to yours.
stay, is what he means. stay here. stay with me.
but he doesn’t know how to ask for that without breaking whatever this is.
so instead he says quietly, “…hang out here.”
you soften. “steve.”
and it almost sounds like an apology. his hand slowly lowers from the door, but he doesn’t step away.
“i just -” he exhales, frustrated at himself, at you, at the whole situation. “i don’t like not knowing where you are. or who you’re with. or if they—”
he stops before the sentence finishes.
your voice is gentler now. “you’re acting like you don’t want me to go.”
his eyes meet yours. for a second he considers lying again. he can’t.
“…i don’t.”
and now neither of you is pretending anymore. steve grabs the back of your neck, bringing your face to his to capture your lips in a heated kiss. immediately his tongue finds yours and you moan into his mouth. the fact that your best friends and this could possibly ruin that, leaves the both both of your minds. all that you two seem to care bout in this moment is how good the other feels. your hands find steves hair, you tug at it, which makes him groan, and his hand slides between your legs causing your knees to buckle.
luckily, his hands slip to your ass and encourage you to jump and wrap your legs around him so that he could carry you to the couch. you’re still kissing when he sits with you straddling his lap. he moans when you begin to grind yourself onto him.
“fuck,” his fingers dig into your hips bringing you down harder into himself. “I’ve wanted this for so long, baby.”
“so why is it that you didn’t do anything about it until another guy was in the picture?” he’s kissing your neck now, and you’re having a hard time controlling yourself.
“didn’t know you wanted me.”
“were the panties not a big enough hint?”
steve stills under you as the realization hits him. “that was on purpose?”
you nod.
“you fucking minx.” he reaches for the bottom of your dress to help you pull it off. this leaves you in your bra and panties - a matching set.
“who was this for?” he asks, gripping your thighs tightly, then trails his hands higher to make work of removing your bra.
“you, steve.” you say like it was obvious. as if there was any other option. you help remove the shirt he was wearing, both of your clothes mingling in a heap onto the floor.
“better be.” his hands - large and warm - moved to your ass and squeezed, while his mouth went immediately to your breasts. first he kissed the top of your breasts, trying to be gentle, but couldn’t wait anymore and let himself suck your left nipple, after a while, he moves giving the same attention to the other one.
you arched your back, pressing yourself further into his face.
“steve, i need you.”
“fuck.” he needed you too.
steve was beside himself. he really couldn’t believe this was happening. here you were, his long time best friend, naked, wet, and needy in his lap - and he was rock-hard under you. he wanted this moment to last forever. tease you until he couldn’t anymore. until you were begging him to let you come. he wanted to hear you chant his name over and over again while he was buried inside of you.
“how do you want it baby?”
“like this steve, i can’t take it anymore, please.” he loved the sound of your voice needy for him.
he lifted you up slightly so he could slide his sweatpants off. before he could get his boxers down, you reached for the waistand so you could it yourself. when his hard cock sprung free, you let out an audible gasp. “fuck, you’re huge.”
“you can take it.” steve gathered the slickness between your legs and brought it to your clit to help rub there. you were so wet for him.
you grabbed him from under you, heavy and hard, and lined him up with your entrance.
“there you go baby, slowly.” steve is still rubbing your clit when you slowy sink yourself onto his cock.
you didn’t even really let yourself get fully adjusted before you started moving against him.
you needed him too badly.
moans left the both of you once you got into a good rhythm. his hands on your ass helped move up and down on him. you wrapped your arms around his neck and buried your face into him, trying to mask your moans everytime he hit that spot inside of you.
“you’re so pretty for me like this baby, letting yourself go on my cock.”
your moans get louder at his words and you find yourself squeezing yourself tighter around him. this spurs him on even more.
“fuck y/n, you gonna cum for me? cum on my cock and let me feel it?’
you nod against his neck - he starts rubbing your clit again.
“no, use your words let me hear you.”
you can feel your legs start to shake as you get closer to your orgasm. it wouldn’t take long before you were comimg.
“yes steve, m’gonna come for you.”
steve moves his hips, taking the work out of it for you.
“go ahead baby, come for me. let me feel it.”
it’s like his words were the green light. your whole body shook with your orgasm, and steve pulled you closer kissing you wherever he could.
“good girl, there you go.”
shortly after your high, steve was reaching one of his own - feeling how good and tight you were as you came brought him over the edge. “fuck.” he moaned. he pulled out swiftly - and ropes of his release went on your thigh but you didn’t even care. you were a hot sweaty mess on steve’s lap.
steve kissed your forehead, lifted you off his lap, and carefully but his boxers back on.
“hold on baby.”
steve left and came back with a warm rag, helping to clean you up.
roommate!steve who knew nothing could go back to normal. he would rather die than be your friend again.
roommate!steve who very shortly after this, asked you on a real date - a romantic one with kissing and sex becuase you weren’t just his roommate. there was no one else he’d rather be with than you, and he doesn’t know why it took him so long to figure this out in the first place.
what's love got to do with it || steve harrington x reader
authors note: heavily cinderella stories inspired (hilary, sofia). please let me know what you think!
• warning(s): angst, fluff - sort of proofread.
• word count: 10.3k
• summary: An 80’s Cinderella Story. You knew “King Steve,” but now that he’s back in your life because you’re fixing his car, can you accept him for who he is now?
Steve Harrington could’ve kicked himself for letting it get this bad. She was his baby after all, and here she was making sounds and overheating. Steve was a lot of things, but he wasn’t a mechanic. He tried his hardest to be Mr.-Fix-It, but this was one thing he just couldn’t get the hang of. He knows cars, but he doesn't know cars. He’s been putting it off so long that he hopes there isn’t irreparable damage, but between crawls, WSQK, and just life in general, he really hasn’t had the time to give the car the maintenance she needs, and it’s definitely long overdue.
So, when he pulled into ‘Midnight Motorworks,’ he secretly wished that they’d tell him the damage wasn’t that bad and he would be on his merry way. One vehicle down wouldn’t be good for the group, and everything was for the group's good these days.
The bell above the front door jingles to note his arrival. Despite the initial smell of fresh tires and oil, he noticed the entire shop smelling very floral - like a garden in the middle of springtime. He looked around. It was a small area, a few waiting chairs with tables - magazines on top that read, “10 Steps To A Fabulous Life!” and mini gardens under the windows. He wondered how, in the middle of fall, plants were doing so well. He’s never had much of a green thumb.
“I’ll be with you in a minute!” He hears someone yell from behind the door, which he assumes leads to the garage. The feminine voice surprised him, in honesty, he was expecting a heavy-set guy with a deep voice covered in oil with a deep voice to greet him. So, when you entered two minutes later, not a fat man with dirt everywhere, he almost took a double-take. You were in a long-sleeved black t-shirt and overalls that looked two sizes too big. He notices you look at him incredulously, and has this feeling like maybe he's seen you from somewhere but can’t quite place it.
“Hey,” Steve says, casually stepping forward.
You notice how his sunglasses pushed his famous hair back, and the corduroy jacket he wore made him look like a perfume model stepped straight out of one of the many magazines in the room.
“Something's wrong with my car, think I could see the mechanic?”
You roll your eyes and step back behind the counter to grab a file.
“Well, you’re looking right at her.”
You’re used to that. Being overlooked. No one ever comes into the shop and assumes you’re the one who fixes cars. And why would they? It’s not like you expected any different when you saw Steve Harrington enter the shop. Hawkins High King, Golden Boy, Steve The Hair Harrington…no, of course he would come in here and assume you weren’t adequate to fix his precious ‘83 BMW he drove into the parking lot.
Steve blinks. “You’re the mechanic?”
“Last I checked.” You replied snarkily. You tried to smile. You did. You’re trying to be nice. But you see this kind of attitude day in and day out, and the last person you want to hear it from is the ruler of your old high school.
He shifts, hand on one hip, a crooked smile on his lips. “I just - I figured -”
“That I’d be a guy?” You ask, eyebrows quirked.
You thought some time out of high school would give this guy a reality check, but no, here he was, just as delusional as he was in high school. Except this time, he had grown more into his looks, muscles defined, fuller lips, and a glint in his eyes like he could show you the world and then some. But that was none of your business…
Steve rubs the back of his neck nervously, like he got caught sticking his hand in the cookie jar.
“No, I just thought -”
“They usually do.” You roll your eyes and shove the clipboard at him with paperwork for him to fill out. You hand him the pen as well. He notices your rigidity but doesn’t say anything. Instead, he gently takes it from you and sits down to begin to write. As he fills it out, he starts describing what’s going on with the car.
He clears his throat. “Right, so, there’s this noise.”
You lean against the doorframe and watch as he fills out the sheet. “What kind of noise?”
“Uh,” he hesitates. He didn’t want to sound stupid. “Like a ticking..? And it smells strange sometimes. And overheating..for sure, so…”
You notice how, when he writes, there are certain moments where he stops himself from using cursive, as if it were something he was trying to unlearn. You also noticed the expensive wrist watch compared to his beat-up shoes that look like they’ve been through hell and back. They almost look as bad as your boots, which you’ve had and held onto for the past five years. You could get more, but you’ve sort of grown emotionally attached to them.
“Do I know you from somewhere?” Steve asks.
This surprises you. He doesn’t recognize you? Doesn’t remember you? Typical.
“Let me see your keys.”
“What?”
“I’m gonna pull the car into the garage.”
He hands over the keys, and you hate how you notice the largeness and softness of his hands after they brushed yours. Compared to your hands, rough and dirty from the day's work, you almost feel bad accidentally touching him.
Steve watches you walk out to his car and start it. He never lets anyone drive, ever, so handing that over to you was a challenge. He watched as your hands caressed the wheel and you read the signs on the dashboard. He noticed your eyebrow quirk at the noises it started making, and your neutral expression soon turned into a frown. It’s like the car was music only you could understand. The noises were in a language only you knew. Your eyes lit up when you pressed on the gas, but your face ended up in a grimace as you drove it into the garage. He couldn’t see your face anymore.
When he finished the paperwork, he joined you outside but used the door connecting the waiting room to the garage instead of walking all the way around outside. More of the decor he noticed was flowers, an assortment, really. ‘You must really like them,’ he thought.
When he walked in, you had the hood popped, and you were looking under it like you were reading hieroglyphics from ancient times. He admired that he tried not to notice the way your overalls rode up as you bent over to check for something.
You stood back up straight and exhaled through your nose. He noticed that when you wiped your hands, a few rings adorned your fingers. He wondered where they all came from.
“You cooked it.” You say, looking at him expectantly.
His heart dropped. He’s not sure what that means, but he knows it can’t be good. His posture straightens; he didn’t even realize he was slouching.
“Excuse me?”
“Coolant’s probably leaking into the cylinders. Oils contaminated.”
Steve stares at you like you’ve grown two heads. Yeah, this is definitely not what he needed to hear right now.
“When’s the last time you replaced the water pump?” You ask.
Replace? Fix? Since when does he have time for that? He doesn't even have the time to entertain a thought about doing anything else other than babysitting, occasionally saving the world, and taking a few punches in the process. Life is way different than how he imagined - especially now.
“My what?” He’s lost in thought. How long was this going to take? How was he going to get around? “So what, it’s bad?”
“If the heads warped, we’re talking teardown. Machine shop. New gasket. New bolts. Weeks probably. Especially with the quarantine.”
“Fuck,” he sighs, running his hands through his hair. “But you can fix it, right?”
You didn’t tell Steve your name, but he noticed it on some trophy hung up on the shelf in the garage before he left. He explained to everyone his car situation, and Murray was able to find him a truck in the meantime - but it was beat up, and nothing like his BMW.
“Robin…” They were on a commercial break at WSQK. “Do you remember a Y/N? L/N? From school?”
Robin looks like she’s searching her mind like she has a mental Rolodex of everyone she’s ever met stored up there.
“Uh, yeah. She’s my year. We took this art class together once. Why?”
Steve shifts in his chair and rolls himself back and forth with his legs.
“She’s working on my car.”
“Oh,” Robin says. “Since when has she worked on cars? I thought she used to work at that diner on Hickory Road? Actually, I think it might be closed now, so of course she wouldn’t -”
“The diner!” Steve interrupts. So that’s where he knew you from. For a while, he used to go to this diner senior year, and you were always working whenever he came in. You guys would talk until one day, you wouldn’t talk to him anymore. He wasn’t sure why then, but he was definitely thinking about it right now.
For the next hour, Robin tries to get Steve’s attention, but he’s distracted. He’s either doodling, staring off into space, or running his hand through his hair exasperatedly. Every time she tries to call his name, he doesn’t hear it the first time and then just grunts in response to whatever she asks.
After the show, Robin rushes to throw her jacket on.
“All right, Stevie boy, let’s go.”
“Uh, go where?”
“To go check on your precious car. I know that’s all you’re thinking about.”
Well, that wasn’t all he was thinking about. You couldn’t seem to leave his mind. Why had he not recognized you?
When Robin and Steve walked into the shop, someone was sitting behind the desk. She was pale, had long black hair in two braids, and her rosy cheeks flushed when she asked them what they needed. Steve noticed that Robin couldn’t take her eyes off her. Steve went searching for you after confirming with the girl that his car was indeed there and being serviced.
Steve tried to be quiet, sneak up on you while you were in your element, try to see what you looked like when you weren’t looking at him in total disgust…but that plan failed when he tripped over cans and made about five fall announcing his arrival.
“Wow. You’re about as subtle as a bull in a china shop, aren’t you?” You ask, eyebrows quirked. There was a glint in your eye, as if you were mildly amused.
“Sorry.” He smiles shyly, attempting to clean everything up. You noticed his jeans hugged him when he squatted down to arrange the cans. That, plus the sweater he had on, made you remember why he was so sought after years ago. Hell, even now.
“So, how’s my baby?” You hated how your stomach dipped at that. Your cheeks flushed, but you turned before he could notice. You would not swoon over Steve Harrington. Absolutely not.
“Gasket’s probably blown. And if you keep driving it hot, the aluminum head could be warped.”
He swallows. “Warped like…?”
“Like it doesn’t sit flat anymore.” You meet his eyes now. “Which means it doesn’t seal. Which means you lose compression. Which means you don’t have an engine for long.”
Silence settles between you. You watch the realization hit him — not just about the car. About how long he ignored it.
He exhales slowly. “I didn’t think it was that serious.”
“You don’t wait until smoke’s pouring out to take warning lights seriously,” you say evenly. “They’re there for a reason.”
His jaw tightens slightly at that.
“I had stuff going on,” he says, and there’s something defensive under it. Not arrogant. Defensive.
You shrug. “Everybody does.”
That one lands.
“Y/N, did you grab the stuff on my list from the store like I asked?”
You watch as your sister enters the shop. She didn’t even look up at you when she entered, too busy searching her purse for something, but when she finally lifted her head, she noticed you and Steve staring at her.
“Oh my God, Steve Harrington!” Your sister rushed to him and wrapped her arms around him like she had just reunited with her long-lost love. Hell, maybe she had. You turned away and focused your attention back on Steve’s car. You tried not to notice the way he talked to her - animated, like he was telling the greatest story of all time.
Your sister was one of many of Steve’s conquests. You remember how charming he was, strolling her around school and you watch as he pulls out that same charm now. He hasn’t changed. Still the same old Steve Harrington. By the time they were done, and she was done gushing over him because she had a hair appointment to get to, your sister made her way back over to you. She looked at you in disgust, like she couldn’t believe how dirty you’ve gotten.
“Don’t forget dinner tonight. Mom says she wants Chinese.” She smiles in a fake way that makes you want to hit her. But you don’t. Because you're a civilised human being.
She totally deserves it though.
Steve watched as you turned back on your…sister? He doesn’t remember Shelby having a sister when he went out with her in high school. In fact, he really doesn’t see any resemblance at all. When he makes his way over to you, he watches you take a pull from the cigarette you just lit.
“These are so bad for you, you know.” He takes it from your hands and draws from it. “I didn’t know Shelby had a sister…I didn’t know you -”
“I know.” You take the cigarette back. It comes out sharper than you meant it to.
He goes still.
You immediately regret it, but you don’t take it back.
He clears his throat. “Look, I wasn’t trying to—”
“To what?” you challenge, finally turning fully toward him. “Assume I couldn’t do my job? Or forget I existed?”
His expression shifts. The cocky edge dulls.
“I didn’t assume you couldn’t,” he says. “I just didn’t expect—”
“It’ll take at least two weeks,” you say. “Maybe three. Machine shop’s backed up.”
Steve pauses. He notices your hair is in a different style than yesterday, and notes he likes it a little better like this; he can see your eyes more, but he also sees how you’re glaring at him. You weren’t going to continue that conversation even though he really wanted you to. You’re snarky, and you’re sharp, but you intrigue him.
“Are you always this hard on your customers?” he asks quietly, taking the cig back from you. He ignores the burning coming from his fingertips when they brush yours - and it wasn't from the lit ash.
“Only the ones who think they’re indestructible.”
A beat. He huffs out something that’s almost a laugh. “Trust me. I know I’m not.” He stalks away but stops right at the door. “And for what it’s worth, I didn’t mean to forget you.”
When you got home, you replayed your and Steve's conversations over and over again in your head. He had almost sounded hurt at the end of it. In fact, you hadn’t expected him to leave as quickly as he did. You fiddled with the necklace around your neck and rubbed it gently like you often did when you were thinking too hard about something.
The Steve Harrington spell is something you were no stranger to. You, too, had the schoolgirl crush on the “Golden boy” back in high school, but it wasn’t something you overly thought about. You hated his popularity, you hated his friends, but God, the jokes he told in class really got you through it. His laugh alone lifted your spirits when things were hard at home. Sometimes, just the daydreams - the idea of him was able to get you through the day. The idea that for once, something or someone as cool as Steve Harrington - would happen for you.
And Shelby never acknowledged you in school. So when she and Steve started dating, you weren’t even an afterthought. You weren’t jealous of her and Steve - but you did envy the life she got to so easily live. Popular, dating the hottest guy in school, every girl wants that. Wants to be noticed - wants to be seen.
And Steve did see you. Once upon a time.
You used to work at this diner down the road. It’s closed now, but it was your favorite spot a few years ago. It was a bit away from the school, so it wasn’t like one of those after-school hangout spots. While you were serving, Steve used to come in, eyes bright and shiny - hair perfect. He sat at the counter, which you didn’t expect - he seemed like a booth type of guy. Steve talked about basketball and homework. He asked you what your favorite classes were and why you liked working at the diner. He would come in, and you two would talk for hours. You two even talked about your parents and his - yours passed, and his…absent. You remember being able to empathize with one another. You had a feeling that his frequent visits were due to him escaping the silence at home.
So, like it always seems to, that schoolgirl crush became something more. You valued the friendship you seemed to have developed with him.
Right as you turned over to go to sleep, Shelby burst into your room like the hall was on fire. She had no regard for the peace and quiet you were holding on to and reached for your desk lamp to turn it on.
“So, Y/N,” she scrunches her face and says your name like it was the equivalent of moldy cheese. “When’s the next time Steve is supposed to come around?”
You scoff at her and roll over in your bed. “Get out.”
She rolls her eyes and starts pulling at things on your desks, absentmindedly shuffling papers, “accidentally,” dropping pencils and pens on the floor.
“I hope you don’t think you actually have a chance. I see the way you look at him.”
You throw a pillow at her. “Trust me, the only person in this room who wants him is you.”
She huffs like she doesn’t believe you. “Good. Because he wouldn’t want you and your grease-stained overalls anyway."
She leaves the room without another word, but her voice still echoes in your head. What does she mean by the way you look at him? You look at Steve as you would any other customer. As a means to get out. One more dollar added to the fund for being able to move out and start a new life outside of your stepfamily.
The phone rang next to you, breaking you from your thoughts.
It was Carlie. She was the second-best part about working at the auto shop. The first was that it was your father's, and you loved the work, being able to fix things, like how you wished you could fix your life, but the second was Carlie. Your best friend. She had been with you through everything. Your father's death, your stepmother and step-sisters' cruelty, hard days at work…she was there.
“Y/N! Do you remember a Robin? Buckley? She was in our class.”
You sit up straight in your bed, racking your brain, trying to remember. “Yeah, I think so, wasn’t she in band or something? Think we had a class together once, too, some kind of elective.”
“Yes! Well,” Carlie sounds exasperated through the phone, as she had just climbed two flights of stairs. That’s how she got when she was excited. “She came in with Steve today!”
“With Steve?” You ask. “What do you mean with Steve?”
You could feel yourself heating up. What was this feeling? Jealousy? No, you could not be jealous when it came to Steve.
“Uhm, like they're somehow best friends “with Steve,” and Y/N, when I tell you she got totally hot, I don’t know how I kept my composure today. I wanted to like literally jump her bones.”
Okay, right, well…no, there really was no reason to be jealous. Not that you were in the first place. All you wanted to do was close your eyes and forget about everything and everyone, especially Steve Harrington. But Robin? That seemed like an unlikely friendship to you. Not who Steve typically would hang out with. This surprised you. What happened to Tommy and Carol?
Steve debated visiting the shop. He knows you don’t like him. And to be honest, he’s not liking you a whole lot right back. Where do you get off on telling him that he thinks he’s indestructible? When did he ever say that? In fact, he was far from it. If anything, he’s learned the past two years is that nothing is indestructible. And everything is temporary. You don’t go from fighting monsters back to totally normal. If he wasn’t already, he definitely was ready for his car to be fixed.
“You know you don’t have to come here every day.” You say rolling yourself out from under the car.
“Actually, the last time I was here was like three days ago, so not every day.” Steve snarks back, taking a bite from a granola bar. When it finally registers what he’s seeing, his eyes widen, and his granola falls from his hands.
“Is this my car? You tore it apart!”
He feels as if he could cry. His poor beemer. He saw there were multiple parts on the floor around you and tools on your waist. You were holding a small piece in your mouth as you twisted something apart. He could feel himself harden in his pants slightly at the thought of what else your mouth could do. Why was he even thinking about that? He watched as you took the piece out of your mouth and put it where it belonged.
He still felt panic in his chest.
“That’s usually how repairs work, Harrington.”
He presses his lips together. “You don’t have to be condescending.”
“You don’t have to be reckless,” you snap back.
“Reckless?” He straightens. “She’s mostly fine.”
“And you drove it..or her…overheated for who knows how long.”
He gestures vaguely. “I had things going on.”
You wipe your hands on a rag. “Oh, of course. The world revolves around you. I forgot.”
He laughs once — sharp. “You really don’t like me.”
“I hate you, actually.”
“Hate’s a strong word.”
“I have strong feelings.” You say.
“Aw, tell me about your other strong feelings for me.” He smiles. You blush at his words, but roll your eyes regardless.
You step around him to grab a tool. He doesn’t move at first, so you bump his arm with yours. Your body shudders when you feel his hand move to your hip to help you slide past him. You ignore how warm and strong his touch feels.
“Excuse you.”
“Shop’s tight,” he says mildly. “You’ll survive.”
You look up at him from under your lashes. “You enjoying hovering?”
“I’m supervising.” He makes a move to check under the engine like he was some sort of inspector making sure you were doing your job right. You’ve had plenty of men come and do that to you - didn’t completely trust you with their cars - but the way Steve did it was almost playful.
“You don’t know what you’re looking at.”
He glances at the exposed engine again. “That’s… engine stuff.”
You stare.
He lifts a brow. “See? I know cars.”
“You drive cars.”
“Same difference.”
“It’s really not.”
He folds his arms. “You know, most mechanics try not to insult the person paying them.”
“Most customers don’t argue with the person rebuilding their engine.”
He tilts his head. “You rebuilding it? Or are you gonna call in a real mechanic?”
The second it leaves his mouth, there’s a beat.
He knows he crossed the line, but he’s gauging your reaction. Seeing how hard he can push before you really snap at him. For some reason, he’s interested in your limits.
Your jaw tightens.
“I am the real mechanic.”
His sarcasm fades just slightly — but not completely. He smiles cooly, hovering above you, staring down right into you. You don’t miss how your eyes fall to your lips and back to your eyes again. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he’d try to kiss you. Part of you wishes you didn’t hate the idea of that.
“Then prove it.”
You step closer. Not intimidated. Not flustered. Okay, well, maybe a little flustered. You two were standing really close. You could practically feel the heat radiating off his body onto yours.
“You want technical?” you ask coolly, taking a single step back. There needed to be space between the two of you. Asap. “Head’s warped at least five thousandths. I won’t know for sure until the machine shop decks it. Gasket’s blown. Coolant’s been bleeding into the cylinders, which means you’re lucky you didn’t hydrolock the whole block.”
He stares.
You continue, relentless.
“I’ll replace the head bolts because BMW uses torque-to-yield. New thermostat. Probably a water pump since you clearly don’t believe in preventative maintenance. Then I’ll flush the oil twice so you’re not running milkshake through your bearings.”
Silence. You lift your chin. “Anything else?”
He steps closer — not backing down now, but not mocking either.
“Yeah,” he says quietly. “You always this intense, or am I special?”
You don’t break eye contact. “You’re not special, Harrington.”
His jaw ticks at that.
“Keep calling me that,” he says softly, “and I might start charging you for the ego damage.”
You scoff. “Pretty sure your ego’s factory-installed. Hard to dent.”
He smirks. “You’d be surprised.”
There’s something under that line. Something not sarcastic at all.
You look away first.
“Come back in a week,” you say briskly. “I’ll know more.”
He doesn’t move.
“You sure you’re not just dragging this out to see me again?” he asks.
You blink slowly. “Trust me. If I wanted to see you, I wouldn’t need your engine to explode.”
Carlie’s at the edge of your bed, wolfing down an entire bag of Doritos.
“Speaking of Steve, he’s like even more hot now, right? He’s got this rugged, ‘I’m handsome, and I know it, but emotionally complex,’ thing going on right now.”
You finish your bite of ice cream. “When were we speaking of Steve?” you ask, laughing softly.
“Since we were talking about how great Robin was.”
“We weren’t talking about that either.”
Carlie makes a face and points at her hair. Because her fingers were full of Dorito dust, she needed help putting it up in a bun. This also meant that she just wanted you to play in her hair, so before you put it up, you started on one of her mandatory scalp massages, which she forces you to do in exchange for bringing you great snacks every time she comes over.
“So what do you have against Sexy Steve H anyway?”
You blush at that, but chastise yourself for it. Why are you blushing at the thought of Steve Harrington? “Uhm, you don’t remember him thinking I couldn’t do my job because I’m a girl?”
You could feel Carlie shake her head under your fingers. It made you lose grip of her hair. “Is that what he said, or is that what you heard?”
“Well, he’s also still full of himself. Just like in high school. Why do you care so much anyway? I don’t have to like Steve just because you like Robin. Those two things aren’t mutually exclusive.”
“I just think you should give him a chance. You haven’t talked to a guy in I don’t know how long, and I don’t know this banter you have with him is the only thing I’ve seen you light up about in months.”
You thought about it. It is true that ever since Steve has been stopping by, you’ve found a certain joy in your arguments. And while yes, some of your feelings towards him are rational and justified, there is a part of you that exaggerates it just to bit to get him to react. It’s hard not to see the boy you used to have that schoolgirl crush on, because when he stares at you deep into your eyes, or touches you a second too long, you swear you could feel those feelings come right back up again.
And that’s why you can’t let yourself fall for him.
He’s still the same, and not only that, but your sister's ex - and you do not want the drama of her and her attitude. Plus, this is all hypothetical; you’re just fixing his car. That doesn't mean that he's feeling anything else towards you.
You’re not even sure why you’re still entertaining these thoughts.
Steve’s back two days later. He knows you said a week, but something was pulling him towards you. He couldn’t seem to stay away. It’s like you were a magnet, and every time he wasn’t within five feet of you, you were all he could think about - all that was on his mind. Your quiet smile, your floral smell, the way you would curse to yourself when you messed up - the way you would banter with him like you didn’t have anything better to do…
“So…” Steve starts.
“So?” you ask. Twisting a bolt. You weren’t working on his car today; you were still waiting for the part to come in.
“This was your dad's shop, right?” He asks. He tries to be gentle - it wasn’t until he talked to Robin that he realized you used to work at this diner he used to go to sometimes. In all honesty, you were the only reason he went - he thought you were beautiful, but out of his league - and he didn’t recognize you when he came into the shop days ago. There was a big difference between the teenager you and the you now. You were still gorgeous, but the way you carried yourself with such confidence - it was ethereal. If he thought you were out of his league back then, you definitely were now.
Anyway, after remembering the tidbits you two used to talk about, he remembered you talking about your parents. It was a touchy subject for both of you - his parents chose to be absent, but yours, yours didn’t. And he remembered how awful that must have felt.
“Yeah, it was.” You say.
“And he taught you this stuff?”
You nod, trying to reach for a tool, and failing. “Make yourself useful and help, since you want to come to my place of work and be a stalker.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He says, grabbing the tool you were reaching for. You grab his hand and make him hold down a wire so that you can twist it with another.
“And what’s with the flowers? Is spring your favorite season or something?” He asks.
“You’re so nosy, Harrington.” He doesn’t know what you’re thinking, but people like talking about the things they love - and he has a sense that you don’t get to do that often. “My mother was a florist. Before she died, my house looked like a real life green house. I brought the plants here when my dad died to try to keep them both alive together.”
“Wow.” Steve clears his throat. “That’s beautiful.”
Steve could tell how heavily guarded you were. Not mean. At least, not right now. Not cold. Just… protected. Like every answer you gave had already been measured before it left your mouth. He watches your hands instead — steady, precise, confident. Nothing like the girl he remembered nervously balancing plates at the diner.
He held the flashlight where you needed it, any excuse to be close to you, really.
“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” you say.
You try to put some space between the two of you - but Steve was making it nearly impossible. And even though he wasn’t touching you, it’s like you could feel him all over you.
“You still hate when people hover?” he asks. You can tell he’s doing it on purpose now. Somehow, he knows the effect he has on you.
You glance at him. “You used to hover.”
“You used to pretend not to notice.”
“I noticed,” you say. “You ordered the same thing every time and barely ate it.”
He huffs a laugh. “I ate it.”
“You pushed it around.”
A small silence.
“You knew?” he asks.
You shrug. “You tipped twenty dollars for pancakes, Harrington. I’m not stupid.”
His ears go pink. “I thought you were out of my league.”
You pause. The wire slips slightly in your fingers before you tighten it again.
“You had a car and perfect hair,” you say flatly. “You were everyone’s league.”
“Not yours.”
You don’t look at him. Instead, you reach for electrical tape. Anything to distract.
“People like you don’t actually want girls like me,” you say quietly.
“People like me?”
“Yes, people like you - who choose people like Shelby.”
You finally are able to put some space between the two of you when you walk to the back of the shop to grab some more tools. You also go to wash your hands just to put some more space and time between the two of you.
“I came back for you, today, not Shelby.”
“Why?”
There was a pause.
“I don’t know,” he says quietly.
You blink — caught off guard — and immediately busy yourself cleaning your hands on a towel. You finally look at him again — not defensive, not sharp. Just tired. You hesitate. For the first time since he came back — really hesitate. Because this isn’t banter anymore. And you don’t know what to do with sincerity. There was something he was keeping from you. Things that have happened - things that might explain his knuckles, slightly rough - healed over more than once. The dark circles under his eyes that might not have been from partying like the old him…but more like late nights awake. It’s in his posture - how he stands ready for anything, not posed. You wonder what made him this way. Is it why he seems so changed?
Steve admires that even though there was so much going on, Dustin and his friends still had time for fun. Weekly, they’ll get together and play D&D, a game he still doesn’t understand - and Steve has somehow become Dustin’s designated driver. Steve wished he had time for hobbies, hell, and if he had time, what would he even do? Play basketball? Steve doesn’t even know what he likes anymore. He’s been obsessed with the idea of hanging onto the past - i.e, Nancy, that he hasn’t even had the chance to find himself again. He thinks about how passionate you are about fixing cars - he’s not sure why he’s even thinking about you right now, but at least you have something.
Steve feels like he has nothing. He’s not in school, he’s in a dumb cover-up job, Hawkins in a lockdown…this is not how he imagined his life to be.
Dustin runs out of the house, bookbag slung over his shoulders, disheveled, and forcefully pulls the truck door open.
“Damn, Steve, when are you getting your car back?” Dustin's nose turns up at the condition of the car while he throws his stuff in the backseat.
Steve starts up the truck. “Would you like to walk home?”
Dustin rolls his eyes and reaches for the unopened soda on the floor. “So, what’s up with you and this mechanic?” Somehow, he’s also found snacks he’s stuffing his face with.
“What do you mean?” Steve asks, slightly sitting straighter in his seat. “How do you know about her?”
“Robin.”
Of course. Robin was the last person to keep her mouth shut. Not that there was anything to tell, but the whole situation is just bizarre.
Steve clears his throat. “She’s just fixing my car. Not sure what you’re trying to insinuate.”
Dustin laughs. “I’m not insinuating anything - but I know you’re thinking something.”
Dustin watches as Steve's hands tense around the steering wheel. Not hard enough to where he seemed angry, but just enough to know what he was right, and a certain mechanic was on Steve’s mind.
As soon as Steve dropped Dustin off and got home, he immediately called Robin.
“What’s up, Stevie boy? It's kinda late.”
Steve rolls his eyes. “Robin, your bedtime is like 3 AM. You should be the last person worried about whether it’s late or not.”
“Whatever,” he can hear shuffling through the phone, like she was getting up to do something. “What’s so important you couldn’t wait until the station tomorrow?”
“What did you tell Dustin about Y/N?” Steve can feel his chest tighten slightly. What’s there to tell, really? You’re fixing his car? You’re driving him crazy? You make him want to pull his hair out and shut you up with a kiss all at once?
“Uhm, just the obvious sexual tension between the two of you. Plus seems like you’re spending every free moment over there.”
He’s ignoring that. “I think she hates me.”
Robin snorts through the phone. “Does she actually hate you, or is this foreplay?”
Steve pinches the bridge of his nose and squeezes his eyes shut. “Rob- what? She’s holding a grudge from high school. I don’t know. We don’t really talk about it.”
“Well, you weren’t exactly the greatest guy in school, were you, Steve?”
It didn’t take a lot of convincing for Steve when Robin mentioned bowling. He hadn’t been out in a really long time, and this was the perfect chance. Sure, the food sucked, and the music wasn’t great, but hanging out with Robin was always a good time, and he loved Dustin, he did, but he also liked hanging out with people the same age as him.
So when he entered the bowling alley and noticed there weren't a lot of people, he was mildly grateful. Steve was in a mood to have fun, not put on the social butterfly he usually had to put on when he ran into people he knew from Hawkins High. They still expected him to be the same - still crack the same jokes, have the same inviting energy. But he wasn’t the same, and hated acting like it.
After he paid for him and Robin, he followed her to the lanes so they could put on their shoes. What he didn’t notice until he stood up, shoes tied, was that you and your friend were in the accompanying lanes. The look of surprise that came across his face was almost embarrassing, except for the fact that his eyes couldn’t leave yours. You looked annoyed, not shocked to see him. Maybe you had a little more time to register this than he did, because he knew that if you knew he was here, you probably wouldn't have come. In the same way Robin surprised him, your friend probably surprised you, too.
This was the first time he was seeing you outside of the garage, and boy, did you clean up nice. He knew you looked good before; he’d never say that out loud in fear of being hit over the head with a wrench, but you definitely looked good now. It wasn’t even about the clothes; it was about the confidence you wore. Like the other side of you, the one that didn’t live under hoods was finally poking her head out. And if he didn’t stop his eyes from wandering down, he soon wouldn’t be able to stop the blood rushing to his groin at the sight of your ass in those jeans.
Pissed was an understatement. You could have literally tackled Carlie like a linebacker with the amount of rage you were feeling right now. She did not tell you Steve would be here. In fact, you barely wanted to come at all. You weren’t that great at bowling, and you did not like not being good at something. So you avoided it. But Carlie insisted you come - said she didn’t want to be alone, and how was she going to have fun by herself? But here was Robin - avoiding the same looks Steve was giving her as you were giving Carlie. It seems as though he was just as surprised as you were.
“Carlie, I hope you know I’m going to kill you. Very violently.”
Carlie smiles and squeezes your hand. “It’ll be okay, I promise.”
The bowling alley smells like nachos and overpriced beer. You consider buying one just to get through tonight. You hate the way he’s looking at you. Like he wants to say something, but is holding back. You try to ignore him as the game begins, but you can literally feel his eyes bore into the back of your head.
You rolled horribly. You knocked down three, which is better than nothing, but the look on Steve’s face when you turned only fueled you more. When Steve went, you watched his arms, strong, long, poised - he looked like he knew exactly what he was doing. And he did. A perfect strike. When he turned, he didn’t look smug, like you thought; he looked…relieved, like maybe he wasn’t completely sure he could do it. He looked over to you, probably to gloat, but you rolled your eyes and sat down, waiting for Carlie and Robin to go.
Even though Carlie was on your team, she had basically ditched you to talk Robins' ear off. You couldn’t be upset. You were happy for her, and they actually looked really cute together. It was so easy for them - smiling, laughing…having a good time. You wished you had joined in, but there was nothing funny about this situation. Nothing funny about Steve. The way his muscles flexed, the way his hair was perfectly styled, the way his clothes clung to him like they were especially made for his body only. Ugh.
You watched as Steve made his way over to you.
“No. Nope. Go back over there, Harrington, you’re not on my team, and I will not be fraternizing with the enemy.”
He smiles as he sits down next to you. “So that’s what we’re doing? Fraternizing?” He watches as you tuck your laces into your shoes. Anything to avoid him. “Robin and Carlie are fraternizing, and they’re on opposite teams. Why can’t we?”
You huff. “Because they actually like each other."
You didn’t look at Steve to see if it stung him. You really didn’t want to know his reaction. Soon enough, it was your turn again, and you got the same score. Three. You groaned as you walked away. I suck you thought. Steve went after you, and it wasn’t a strike, but he did manage to get all the pins down in two rolls. It wasn’t fair. Perfect Steve winning. He and Robin were beating you in points, but Carlie was just as good as Steve, so she was giving him a run for his money, and your team wasn’t far behind. You and Robin were as useless as a hockey stick in a soccer game. The game was basically between Steve and Carlie.
You’re lining up your next shot when you feel him.
“Don’t,” you say immediately. You knew what he was about to do. Charming Steve would come to be your hero and help. You couldn’t think of anything worse right now. Just what you needed. Steve being right about something, too good for you, even. That he was better than you. If it wasn’t obvious, with your step-sister rubbing it into your face, it sure was apparent now.
“I haven’t done anything.”
“You’re about to.”
A pause. Then—He steps in behind you. Not touching. Not yet. But close enough that you feel the warmth of him through the thin fabric of your shirt.
“I’m just helping,” he says lightly.
“I don’t need help.” You did. But you didn’t want to admit it. It shouldn’t have felt this good to have him this close.
You grip the bowling ball tighter.
His hand reaches past you first — adjusting your fingers in the holes. You tense up. He was so close. Close enough you could feel his breath on the back of your neck. Close enough that you could smell his cologne and forget why you were so mad in the first place. Overpowering you, nearly. He smelled like clean soap and something warm and expensive.
“Loosen up.”
Your breath catches.
“I am.”
He huffs a quiet laugh near your ear.
His other hand hovers near your hip. You feel it before he even makes contact. It felt so familiar and strange all at once. Like it was meant to be, but foreign all at once.
“You’re pulling left,” he murmurs. “Your shoulders are angled.”
“I know how shoulders work, Harrington.”
“Well, you just know everything, don’t you?” That was intentional. You could tell. And then his hand lands on your hip. Firm. Warm. Guiding. Not inappropriate, but not innocent either. Your spine straightens instantly. His chest brushes your back as he adjusts your stance.
“Feet shoulder-width,” he says softly.
“Stop bossing me around.” is all you can manage out. But you knew he wouldn’t listen. His fingers press just slightly at your hip, shifting you an inch.
“There,” he says.
His other hand comes around your forearm, lifting it slightly. You are very aware of how big his hands are compared to yours. How they felt against your body should be illegal.
“Follow through,” he murmurs, almost against your hair.
You swallow.
“If I miss, I’m blaming you.”
“I wouldn’t expect anything else.”
The weight of that lands heavier than it should.
The lane suddenly feels too narrow. Too quiet. Robin and Carlie’s laughter feels miles away. You wonder if they see what’s going on or if they’re in their own little world. His hand slides from your forearm to your wrist. Slow. Intentional.
“Okay,” he says softly. “Go.”
You step forward. Release. The ball rolls straighter than it has all night. Pins explode. Strike. You freeze and smile. You did it. That’s the first time you’ve ever done that. He’s still behind you. Still close. His hand is still lightly around your wrist. You turn your head slightly.
“Told you,” he says.
You exhale shakily.
He doesn’t move away right away. And you don’t step forward. There’s a beat where neither of you speaks. Then—
“You can let go now,” you say, quieter than before.
His thumb shifts slightly against your pulse point.
“I know.”
Another beat.
Then he steps back. You almost wish he didn’t. Steve runs a hand through his hair, suddenly looking less composed than he did five seconds ago.
He makes his way back to Carlie and Robin, but wishes he could’ve stayed by you. You were slowly corrupting his mind like some kind of virus. He could barely keep his hands to himself, and he didn’t know how to feel about it.
Robin gives him a look, but Steve shakes his head as if to say, ‘Don’t ask.’
Steve watches as Carlie pulls Robin to the concessions, and Steve looks over to you, but you refuse to look at him. After five minutes of silence and your friends’ absence, Steve suggests that the two of you go to the arcade part of the building. He watched as you decided - like it was as hard as choosing between jumping off a cliff or skydiving. Ultimately, to his surprise, you said yes.
He followed you to the neon colored area where it smelled like stale popcorn and teenage boys. Luckily, you two were the only ones there. Steve listened to the song playing over the speaker - some tune from the top 100. He gets excited when you choose air hockey. It was his favorite arcade game. You choose one side, and he walks to the other. Immediately, you shoot the puck into his goal.
Steve laughs. “Oh, that’s the only point you’ll be getting, you caught me off guard!”
“How about you stay on top of your game then?” You bite back.
Steve shakes his head, and soon enough, you two are in a steady rhythm of back and forth. He watches you get scared a couple of times - nervous the puck would hit your hands, but really, he notices how competitive you are. There's a sparkle in your eyes every time you hit the puck. He watches as you lick your lips and smile every time it flings to his side, and it almost makes it in. He gets so distracted by this that he wasn’t pulled out of his trance until he noticed you jump up and down, hands in the air, because you got another point.
Your celebration was short-lived when he took his chance to score a point while you were celebrating.
“Hey!” you shout, staring daggers at him, playfully.
“How about you stay on top of your game?” he repeats back to you.
You roll your eyes.
You end up winning.
He wins basketball, and you call him a cheater. He laughs and calls you a sore loser. You playfully shove him. He catches your wrist when you do, and pulls you close. He’s surprised when you don’t push him away.
“Why can’t it always be this easy?” He asks.
You look down at the floor instead of up at him.
“I’ve changed since high school, you know, I’m not that same Steve.” Instead of your wrist, his hand holds your waist - scared you’ll slip away. And you did. You yanked yourself away and turned around, back facing him - the same position you were in when he helped you bowl, except this time the tension was coming from a different place.
You start walking towards the back of the arcade; you’re not sure where you’re going, but you know you want to put some space between you and Steve before you do something you might regret.
He follows you, though, ruining that plan of yours.
“Y/N, stop running away and tell me what I did so I can apologize for it.”
You still don’t turn around. Can’t bear to face him.
“When I worked at the diner,” You’re not sure why you’re deciding to open up. Maybe it was him helping you, maybe it was your competitive nature, and you getting to see a different side of Steve tonight - a happier one - that made you finally just want to let everything out in the air. Maybe it would have been easier if it wasn’t all bottled up. “Anyway, when you used to come in, you weren’t Steve Harrington - the King of Hawkins High…you were kind, and you were my friend. And then Tommy and Carol came in one day, and it was like the Steve I talked to was gone. They laughed at me, gave me shitty orders, called me ‘Diner girl,’…and you just sat there. Let it happen.”
“Y/N I’m…” Steve starts.
“And Shelby, she saw it. She made sure to remind me that I was nothing more than someone who would always be working for someone else - that someone like Steve Harrington would never look twice at me.”
“I did look twice at you.” his voice sounded like a plea - like he was begging you to believe him, to trust him. “You’re the only reason I ever even went to that diner.”
You turned at this. There was heat in your face, tingling in your fingers; it was like your body was feeling so many things at once that it didn’t know what to do.
“Well, you didn’t look when it mattered.”
He winced at your words.
“I remember that day,” he says quietly. “You didn’t talk to me the next time I came in, or ever again, really. I thought if I didn’t join in with them, it was better.”
You shake your head. “Neutral isn’t kind, Steve. Neutral is choosing them.”
“I was scared of looking stupid in front of them,” he continues. “And I let you take the fall for it. I was a coward, and I’m sorry. It wasn’t until some time after that happened that I realized how horrible they were - hell, how horrible I was.”
The honesty knocks the air out of your anger for half a second — and you hate that. A long pause stretches between you. The noise of the arcade hums around you, but it feels distant.
Your throat tightens. “You’re different,” you admit before you can stop yourself. You see the scar above his eyebrow, the hollowness in his cheeks, like he might forget to eat, or maybe he’s stressed…it’s obvious that he isn’t the same.
His eyes flicker. With hope, maybe, like he was finally being seen.
“But different doesn’t erase it.”
He nods once. “I know.”
“I hated you for that,” you say quickly - like saying it would make whatever is building right now go away.
“And do you hate me now?” he asks. He finally touches you, well, crowds you. Your back was against the wall, and his body was closer - almost pressing you against it. His fingers gently caressed the side of your face.
“Yes,” you say. But your voice was quiet, distant. You were lying, and he knew it.
“I would’ve stopped it,” he says quietly. “If I could go back, I would’ve stopped it.”
Your chest tightens.
That’s it. That’s the final straw. All the anger, the history, the tension from bowling, from the shop, from the way he looked at you tonight like you mattered. You don’t decide to kiss him — your body does. One second you’re staring at his mouth, at the way he keeps saying your name like it matters, and the next your hand is in his jacket, dragging him down to you. The impact of it surprises both of you. Steve stills — just for a breath — like his brain hasn’t caught up yet.
Then he moves.
His hand slides up to your jaw, thumb brushing your cheek before he pulls you closer, and the hesitation disappears. The kiss turns urgent, uneven — all clashing angles and too-sharp inhales, years of things unsaid spilling out at once. You grab the front of his jacket, fist tightening, needing something solid to hold onto because the ground suddenly doesn’t feel steady. He exhales against your mouth — almost a sound — and his other hand finds the back of your head, fingers threading into your hair, holding you there like he’s afraid you’ll rethink this and vanish.
You should stop.
You don’t.
Your forehead bumps his, noses brushing as you both try to breathe and fail, and the kiss only deepens — less angry now, more reckless, like neither of you knows where to put all of this feeling except here. When you finally pull back, it’s only because your lungs force you to. You’re both breathing too hard, too close, neither of you stepping away.
Steve doesn’t want to pull away, but he does - and he watches you retreat into yourself.
“That was...” you start.
He doesn’t say anything. Just holds your face.
You nod to yourself, pulling back. “A mistake, yeah, I shouldn’t have done that.” You push him away and start convincing yourself that that’s true. This is all happening so quickly. What were you doing?
You watch as Steve shakes his head. “No, what? Stop.”
You look up into his eyes and hate how sincere he looks. Could he really have changed? Is he really as different as he says he is? But then you think back to his and Shelby’s flirting…his comments about being busy and having a life…no, he has to still be the same. And if he was the same, that means you would get hurt again. And you already have enough to hurt about. You didn’t need Steve Harrington entering your life just to flip everything upside down. You hated how you felt like you were retreating to your junior year self.
“I’m not your do-over, okay? Or your redemption arc - you don’t get to practice being the good guy on me because you feel bad, I’m not -”
“Y/N, I’m trying to be honest with you here, and you just -” One step forward, two steps back.
Just then, the alarm on your watch beeped, letting you know that it was 11:30. Shit. You had to go. If you weren’t home by 12 your stepmom would kill you. Not that this was a conversation you wanted to finish anyway.
Steve watched as you pushed past him and briskly walked out of the arcade, presumably to find Carlie. He followed close behind.
“So you’re just going to run away? Is this what you always do? Run when things get hard?”
You ignore him and walk faster. When he finally caught up with you, he overheard you telling Carlie you had to go home. She and Robin were both sitting, sharing soft pretzels and pizza.
“Steve can take you home, can’t ya, Steve?” Steve’s eyes widen as Robin gives him a suggestive look. He looked between Carlie and Robin - neither of them wanted to end the night this early. If Robin was a late nighter, he was sure Carlie probably was too, and even though whatever just happened between the two of you just happened, he still wanted the night to last just a little longer.
“Yup,” he says, short, irritated, but not wanting the night to end like this. He watched as you looked between the pair - probably noticing the same thing he did, and rolled your eyes.
You didn’t say anything, probably because Steve was standing right there. But he could tell you were pissed.
“Have a good night, guys,” he says. “Get home safe.” He turns to leave knowing you have no choice but to follow. The walk to the car is silent, and not the comfortable kind. The kind where every step feels like a countdown. So, when he makes it to the beat-up truck, he makes sure to clean up the seat. He didn’t care about the mess when it was Robin in the seat. He got rid of what he could and left the door open for you.
You climbed into the passenger seat without looking at him, and he closed the door gently behind you. The only speaking you did was to tell him where your address was; other than that, he watched as you turned your body completely the right, your whole body leaning away from him, leaning on the window.
Steve didnt want to say the wrong thing. So he didn’t say anything. He felt like you were just going to twist his words if he tried, but he realized, now more than ever, that he needed to fix things. That he needed you in his life. He felt like you’ve slowly become the only normal thing - the one constant, something familiar, something he wanted to protect. That even with everything happening in the town, you were still there to ground him - keep him honest.
You were so heavily guarded - and he knew you had every reason to be, but he wished you’d let down your walls long enough to just trust him.
A red light stops the car. He finally turns to look at you fully.
11:47
“I’m not trying to practice being a good guy. I’m trying to be one.” he says. You turn to him slightly, and your throat tightens.
“That doesn’t get to start with me.”
“It’s not.”
The light turns green, and he looks forward again. It’s easier when his eyes aren’t on you.
“That kiss wasn’t about proving anything,” he says quietly.
You close your eyes briefly.
“Then what was it about?”
A beat.
“You.”
That’s worse. You check your watch.
11:55.
Too close.
You lean your head back against the seat.
“You’re still reckless.”
“And you’re still running.”
You glare at him. “You don’t get to psychoanalyze me.”
“You don’t get to kiss me like that and act like it meant nothing.”
11:58.
He parks.
“You didn’t even fight for me back then; it’s like you were okay with the friendship being gone.” you say, finally looking at him and actually seeing him. His cheeks were flushed and he kept biting his lip.
“I’m fighting for you now.”
“It’s too late.”
“No, it’s not. I don’t believe that. I think it’s just easier for you to run away than to be honest about what you’re feeling.”
“And you are?”
“I mean, yeah-” he starts, a little defensive now. “At least I’m sitting here saying it. I’m not pretending this doesn’t mean something.”
Your jaw tightens.
“You think showing up a few times and saying the right things counts as fighting?” you cut in. “You didn’t fight when it mattered.”
“I was seventeen,” he snaps, then, quieter, like he regretted it, says, “I was an idiot.” He grips the steering wheel tighter. “I’m not that guy anymore.”
“But you were,” you say, voice trembling now despite your effort to steady it. “And you don’t get to decide when that stops mattering.”
He exhales sharply. “So what, that’s it? You just get to punish me forever?”
Your eyes flash.
“I’m not punishing you. I’m protecting myself.”
Silence drops heavy between you.
The streetlight outside flickers across his face. He looks tired. Frustrated. Desperate.
“I’m trying,” he says quieter now. “You think this is easy for me? You think I like knowing I screwed it up back then? I’m here because I care about you. I cared about you then too, I just—”
I have a mike wheeler request. Where she has been a part of the party for a very long time and they are close friends. She plays dnd and everything with them. But she is super duper excited when el joins the party and even more excited when max joins. And Mike feels bad that she didn't feel happy with the orignal party. He thinks she grew tired of them. And this is additional but as they enter high school she finds her own clique with Eddie and his friends and Mike joins because he feels like she's drifting away?
summer of ‘69
thank you so much for requesting!! i hope you enjoy and please let me know if you have any more ideas!!💗💗
warning(s): not really proofread lol. angst and fluff.
word count: 2k
request: Where she has been a part of the party for a very long time and they are close friends. She plays dnd and everything with them. But she is super duper excited when el joins the party and even more excited when max joins. And Mike feels bad that she didn't feel happy with the orignal party. He thinks she grew tired of them. And this is additional but as they enter high school she finds her own clique with Eddie and his friends and Mike joins because he feels like she's drifting away?
—————————————————————————
standin on your mommas porch
you told me it would last forever
oh and when you held my hand
i knew that it was now or never
those were the best days of my life
lately, it seems mike had to run, skip, jump or fly to catch up with you. you were always two steps ahead of him and if he tried to enter the same world as you, somehow he’d end up on another planet. sort of like you were in the real world and he was in the upside down trying to find you.
like normal, mike had asked you by your locker if you were going to come over his house after school to hang out and even play some games with the party. but the excuse was, as it seemed to always be lately, is “no, sorry, not tonight i’m gonna hang out with max.”
mike watched you slam your locker shut and disappeared down the hallway. you had swung this limited-edition karate kid bookbag over your shoulder he had gifted you a few christmases ago - and it gave him the slightest bit of hope. but still his eyebrows furrowed, his lip twitched, and his brain was going in a thousand circles in the way mike wheeler’s brain only could.
he remembered the first time that struck him in a way that meant things were changing - and not in the ways that he wanted.
it was when maxine first arrived with her b rother and you were the only one to confront her about her alias “mad max,” and explain to her that the boys really weren’t as creepy and weird as they seemed. he remembered nights in the basement where you’d rant about how cool max and was and how she was going to teach you to skate - completely forgetting the promises you had made to him about finishing the star wars binge you had started the night before.
lucas may have been the one to officially invite her to the party, but you were right behind him championing her establishment. and as it was, you were the same with eleven when mike had first brought her home. it was no longer you coming over to play d&d with the boys, you would rush to el when you weren’t trying to find will - and teach her about things and play games like he slowly would cease to exist right in front. of your eyes.
when you were younger, it was easier to hang out - simpler even. you were his neighbor and he refused to talk to you.
he’d see you playing outside, running around the tree in your front yard and jumping over sticks - and would freeze every time his mother would suggest he go over to play with you. when your mom started working more and enlisted nancy’s help to babysit you while she was gone, mike thought he’d be in for hell. no way a girl would be in his home and he’d have to share his food and act like she was cool.
but he found out you were cool. nancy ditched you in the living room to talk on the phone upstairs, and out of boredom you wandered to the basement where you could hear a young mike, will, and dustin screaming at their new acquired dungeons and dragons game, despite mike’s protest, the party let you join their game and you ended up as good as, if not better, than them.
that’s why now he was so confused as to why he couldn’t reach you. he was lucky if he caught a glimpse of you getting off of your bike and into your house.
mike shudders when he feels dustin slap his hand onto his shoulder.
”shit!”
“geez what’s got you so wound up?”
”nothing.” mike shakes dustins hand off his shoulder and starts walking towards the cafeteria where he immediate;y saw you sitting with max and some other girl he didn’t know. two times this week you chose to sit with them and mike couldn’t help but stare. after grabbing his food and sitting down with eddie, dustin,m and everyone else, he can’t help but thin k about how much you’ve distanced yourself. he didn’t really care when max did it - he hasn’t known max since she was 8 - and lucas has his own reasons that he doesn’t agree with, but you were his biggest surprsise. it’s bad enough will and el went away to california after everything that happend, but now, his only constant, couldn’t seem to be around him for more than five seconds at a time.
”hey, wheeler! get your head in the game!” eddie shouts. it pulls mike out of his trance, and his eyes away from your direction. his fingers twitched and he looks at eddie.
mike doesn’t say anything as he lifts his drink to his mouth but he can feel the entire groups eyes on him. he barely even liked these guys. he just needed a distraction. he would rather it just be the four oof you in his basement again but it seems you’re way past that now.
“hmmm, it seems to me that little mikey over here is distracted and not up for the intensity of our fight.” eddie pauses and looks slyly over to where mike was staring - at you. “is your little girlfriend gonna get in the way of your success?”
mike’s eyes widen and he chokes on the juice that was currently traveling down his throat. he starts coughing erratically and becomes a reddening, sputtering mess. dustin pats him on the back to try and help but mike was in a fit of coughs.
when he was finally done he wiped his mouth with his sleeve and said, “shit. she’s not my girlfriend asshole i’ll be perfectly fine thanks.”
mike would not be perfectly fine.
you and the word girlfriend in the same sentence? no way. you were just his friend. his great friend. his best friend. and that’s why he cared about you distancing yourself. no other reason.
friends don’t think about your hugs after winning a battle in d&d. how your face is so close to his that he can feel just how soft your hair is and smell your vanilla scented shampoo. how when in the quickness of your arms around his neck and his around your waist his heart drops when you pull apart. friends don’t think about how he’s always knocking on your door asking you to come over just so he can stare at you for a little while longer. and they don’t think about how when you’re binging movies and your hands accidentally brush from reaching for popcorn at the same time, that a fire doesn’t burn through his entire body and make him red at the thought.
he’ll pretend to not want all of his dessert just so you can have more - cause he knows it’s your favorite. friends don’t think about how when he’s bored he can send a paper airplane through your window and annoy you enough to giggles - just so he could see your smile. friend’s don’t think about that stuff.
which is why he’s just your friend. which is why he needs to convince you to come back. so he can stop thinking about it so much. if he got things back to normal, then there wouldn’t be this swell in his chest at the thought of your absence.
————-
“nance where’s my -“ he barges into nancy’s room hoping to find his jacket he left in the livingroom so he could wear it to bike to dustin’s house to grab the answers for his homework he had no idea how to do. it wasn’t late yet and he was bored with nothing better to do. but here you were, wearing it, sitting at the edge of nancy’s bed.
“jacket.” mike almost couldn’t breathe. you’ve worn his clothes before, a bunch actually over the years, but for some reason you looked differently in them now.
you stand up, shared a quick look with nancy that said, “the person we were just talking about bursted in the room,” and “bye,” all at once, and slid past mike towards the hallway.
”where are you going?” mike asked following you down the stairs. he caught just a hint of your shampoo and hoped you’d stop soon enough just for him to appreciate it a little longer.
“i was cold.” you say grabbing your bag and slipping the jacket off. he almost screams at you to keep it on but catches himself.
”uhm, okay?” mike says.
”i mean the jacket,” you hand it back to him. “i was cold.”
”y/n i don’t care about that stop being weird.” he takes the jacket and throws it back on the couch. “what were you and nancy chatting about?”
”uh,” you start walking towards the door, “nothing important. just had to catch up with her about a few things.”
”oh so you can catch up with nancy and max but you can’t catch up with me or the party?” mike didn’t mean for it to come out like that. but his brain was going 100 miles an hour and he couldn't stop his mouth from following close behind.
”what?” you ask. he watched as you grew tense and your eyes squinted in the way they did when you were upset at him. he was all too familiar with that look. he knew it all too well.
”you completely abandoned…us! did you forget dustin and lucas were your friends too or has hanging out with max and literally everyone else in the world made you forget everything we’ve been through?”
mike wasn’t super loud but still his words were ripping through your heart. how dare he?
“after everything we’ve been through, mike, you should know me better than that.” you were angry, and confused. there was so much being unsaid between the two of you that was driving you crazy.
”i thought i did.” mike’s voice was soft and he searched your eyes for answers to this unspoken tension. you didn’t have them. and neither did he.
mike and you just stared at each other for a long minute. mike opened his mouth like he was going to say something but no words cxame out. you sighed and hung your head.
”what’s this really about?” you ask.
mike’s eyes widen and twists his face in confusion like he was so good at. you can visibly see the wheels turning in his head and still what comes out of his mouth wasn’t what you wanted to hear. what you needed to hear.
”n-nothing.”
for years mike has done this to you. pulled you in, then pulled you away. made his mind up, then changed it. given you hints and promises just to be completely evasive about it later. you could feel the longing looks, and the burning touches. you felt him tuck you in at night when you and the party would have sleepovers. you felt his stare down the hallway when you asked your chem partner luke for answers on an assignment. you also felt his thumb back and forth on your knee when you’d binge movies together after he thought you fell asleep. a simple touch that sent a fire within you.
“i’m tired of nothings mike. you’re not even honest with yourself i don’t know how i ever expected you to be honest with me.”
you grab your bag from the floor and and walk out the door gently closing it behind you. you lived right in the hosue over and you barely made it to the sidewalk before you heard the door slam and footsteps behind you, you turn around to see mike, eyes wide and jacket in hand.
”here,” he steps forward and places it over your shoulders. “don’t want you to catch a cold ya know. its getting colder out.”
”my house is literally right there.” you roll your eyes.
”shut up, please.” he says. “i’m trying here.” you watch as he glances down at his jacket around you, to your eyes, and then to your lips. “i-m not good at this, and i probably should have realized a lot sooner and i dont know if nancy hadn’t come down the stairs just now and shoved me out the door then maybe i wouldn’t be here at all but,” he takes a moment to catch his breath. “it’s not nothing. it’s something i’ve been ignoring and i’m sorry i’m such an asshole really -“
”hey,” you stop him, stepping closer. you know him well enough to know that if you didn’t stop him now he probably wouldn’t stop at all. “just kiss me wheeler.”
”oh thank god.” he takes your face gently in his hands and places a light simple kiss on your lips. like he was scared almost. you place your arms around his neck and pull him in for a deeper kiss which he accepts quickly. you’ve waited so long for this moment you couldn’t believe it was actually happening. he pulled away softly and you almost groaned in longing.
”this means you’re gonna come back to the party, right?”
HII I have a request!! Can it be something like Steve and Reader who are taking a break after the entire season 4 chaos, and now he keeps trying to win her back by stupid shit like climbing the antena or giving her flowers and stuff and before he gets send to the upside down, he kinda confesses that he wants to date again and that the break they had taken never really work. Omg please and thank you!!! Love you 🤍🤍🤍!!
don’t stop believin’
thank you so much for requesting! this got me out of my writing slump! pls lmk if you have any more ideas! 💗💗💗
warning(s): not really proofread lol. (i’ll prob go back and edit just wanted to get it posted)
word count: 2.5k
request: Can it be something like Steve and Reader who are taking a break after the entire season 4 chaos, and now he keeps trying to win her back by stupid shit like climbing the antena or giving her flowers and stuff and before he gets send to the upside down, he kinda confesses that he wants to date again and that the break they had taken never really work.
—————————————————————————
livin’ just to find emotion
hidin’ somewhere in the night
don’t stop believin’
hold onto that feelin’
you fiddled with the bracelet on your left wrist, but more specifically the charms. eleven had the matching one - it was a gift for when her and will left for california. you had to fish it out from under your sweater - it was so soft but the sleeves are a bit longer, and now fidgeting is your comfort and escape from your job at the convenience store. it was joyce’s old job and you’re incredibly grateful, but it’s also super boring and all you see day in and day out are mothers and elderly people.
speaking of…karen wheeler just entered the store. she seemed calm and headed straight for the back in search of something. she didn’t pay you any mind and you were…sort of grateful. a crawl would be coming up soon and that’s all your mind can seem to focus on. you hate seeing all your friends in danger every single time you all attempt to find vecna. anything could happen at anytime.
the sun was shining but the air was crisp. you knew that once you left the store, your bike ride home would be chilly and you hated the cold. luckily, it was almost closing and mrs. wheeler would probably be your last customer of the day.
karen reaches the counter and places an assortment of different items such as makeup, bandaids and other odds and ends. you began to scan them.
“oh y/n how are you sweetie?”
“i’m okay mrs. wheeler how are you?”
“i’m great! but you seem a little sad, are you okay?”
you’re done scanning her items at this point and at the mention of your feelings you paused. was it that noticeable?
“yeah, yeah i’m fine.” you cleared your throat. “thank you.”
mrs. wheeler squinted her eyes and gave you a skeptical mom type of look that said “i know you’re lying” but paid and grabbed her bags from you.
“your sweater looks nice, but a little big on you.”
before you recognized her inquisitive tone, you muttered “thanks it’s actually st-“
your eyes widened at your almost admission. you cannot talk about steve. especially to mrs. wheeler…his ex’s mom.
“steve’s?” she smiles. there was a glint in her eye that told you more than words could. “he’s right outside ya’know. pacing like a dog is chasing him.”
before you could say anything back, she was already out of the door. your heart dropped to your stomach. a couple of months ago you and steve decided to take a break. you’ve seen him since, but barely spoken. everyone can feel the tension between the two of you but you’re both too scared to say something. the thought of him outside waiting for you made your palms sweat and your hands shake. after counting and locking drawers and sweeping, you close and lock the store’s doors.
once outside, you expect to see steve as soon as you turned around but you didn’t. you weren’t sure wether you should be sad or grateful. steve is this puzzle that you can’t seem to figure out. he can’t even figure himself out long enough for you to try. every time you took two steps forward with him something seemed to happen where you’d end up falling four steps back…on your face…by yourself. you thought you and steve would be on the same page about things and turns out you weren’t even reading the same book.
you reached your bike and as you go to unlock it that’s when he appeared right in front of you. his cheeks were rosy from the cold and his hair was untamed like he had been using his hands as a makeshift hairbrush for the past twenty minutes. you could tell he tried to smile at you but his eyes were just glossy and instead he said nothing. just watched as you took the lock off of your bike.
when he saw you in his sweater his heart almost skipped a beat and his heart started to burn. you looked better in his clothes than he ever could and it meant everything to him that even though you’ve been apart, you still held him close by. this confirmed for him everything he already knew - that he still had a chance. he still remembers the day he gave it to you. you were on the stake out with robin and dustin as you waited for erica to give you a signal. at the time, you worked at the mall too. in a clothing store. anyway, you weren’t even together at the time but as soon as he felt you shiver he rushed to grab his sweater out of his car. mission be damned. you came first even before it was official.
”steve..” you start. your voice was low. you only said his name but it was in a pleading way like you were begging him not to start.
”I’m taking you home.”
”no, steve, i -“ you wanted to argue. distract maybe, get angry. how dare he show up and start making demands?
”get in the car y/n, i’m taking you home.”
you were still unsure but theres a smile behind his eyes and his voice comes out nicer, “trust me.”
he grabs the bike from you as you stood there almost dumbfounded. your bike was strapped securely and the passenger door was opened for you before you could even muster the words to protest.
the car ride was silent, and the air was tense. steve gripped the steering wheel like it was somehow going to roll away from him. you wanted to say something, anything…but you couldn’t find the words. you only watched steve out of the corner of your eye - more specifically his hands - the way they twitched like they wanted to reach for you, like they’ve done so many times before. but he was fighting himself. and a big part of you that you didn’t care to acknowledge… wished he would stop fighting himself, and fight for you.
before you knew it you were outside your house and he jumped out of the car to retrieve your bike and walk it towards the door for you. you followed closely behind. once you got to the door and actually face him you noticed the bouquet of flowers in his hand. where they came from so suddenly and secretly you didn’t know.
”steve - “
“don’t.” he loved his name on your lips but not like this. not in the way you say it now.
he passed you the flowers and let his arms hang there just so he could feel your touch a little longer. something he’s been deprived of. something he’s missed like he’s hadn’t had it for ten years.
your front door swung open and you’re little sister ushered you inside like she had been waiting for you all day. in reality, she had just wanted to meddle between you and steve.
”bye!” she says slamming the door in his face.
—————
you arrived with jonathan and nancy and could barely look steve in the eye. luckily robins humor made it less awkward but as you were searching for something to help with the tower, you and steve’s close proximity made your entire body shut down. especially after yesterday and the flowers. when nancy found the book, steve dragged you to the far side of the room.
“i can’t keep going on like this.”
you looked up at steve and then you looked back to the group and watched as they rushed out of the door.
”let’s go.” you tell him, trailing after the others. you would figure things out later.
you all stood at the bottom of the tower and while they were trying to fix the remote or whatever it was, you were trying to decipher how you were going to handle things with steve.
you watched as jonathan and steve go back and forth and steve kept catching your eye in the midst of it all. like he was planning something that he had no business doing. you all but tuned them out until you saw steve race jonathan to climb the tower.
”steve!” you yell. but it was too late.
robin and nancy share a look and you feel like you’ve been left out of some inside joke.
”and of course this became the ‘who’s the braver boyfriend contest.’” robin rolls her eyes sarcastically. of course steve made it out to be a game. this isn’t what you wanted. these childish games aren’t how you’re supposed to fix things. you squint your eyes up towards the sky trying to spot steve’s figure going smaller and smaller as he went higher and higher. it was incredibly stupid and dangerous and you held your breath the entire time.
this reminded you of the time steve took you to the carnival and you were afraid of the ferris wheel. you’ve never been good with heights and after begging and promising you that he wouldn’t let you go the entire time, “trust me,’ he’d said. and you eventually agreed. the top wasn’t as bad considering you had steve’s reddening hand to squeeze into - steve learned to take pain well, so it was a good time. steve had played with the hem of your jacket and pulled you in for a chaste kiss before you could start to complain about being at the top too long.
and now here you were waiting for him. like you always did.
like you always would.
—————
tap.
pause.
tap.
pause.
tap.
you woke up to sharp sounds at your window. you tried not to be overly anxious immediately. with everything you’ve gone through the littlest of sounds could mean the biggest of dangers, but for some reason you knew you didn’t have to be afraid.
you followed the sound to your window and opened it to see steve at the bottom.
”what are you doing?” you whisper-shout to him.
steve smiled once he saw you and dropped the rest of the pebbles in his hands. you could tell he looked nervous. “dustin suggested this romeo juliet thing, i don’t know.” you noticed he had more flowers. “is it working?”
you roll your eyes. “hold on.”
you can’t help but smile once you were out of his line of view. he’s trying? maybe? but would this work is the question. you throw on his sweater, your go to it seems, some slippers, quietly make your way down the stairs and out the front door.
steve’s waiting for you down the street a bit by his car. you meet him there.
”why are you doing all this?”
”i’m guessing this romeo routine isn’t doing it for you?” he asks smiling, in the way only the charming steve harrington can. he brings his hand up to cup your face and rub your cheek, something you used to be used to, and he’s pleasantly surprised when you don’t pull away.
”do you even know who he is?” you ask, leaning into his touch.
he clears his throat and uses his other hand to pull you in by your waist. you’re inches away now. you could feel his warm breath on your face, contrasting from the chill in the air. “i’m familiar.” he says.
”romeo dies in the end ya’know. so does juliet.” your hands instinctively reach for his forearms - mostly to ground yourself.
”well i’m different, because i’d save you.”
and even though you knew it was a bad idea, you didn’t stop him from leaning down to kiss you. his lips met yours in a way that was totally familiar but different all the same. you moved in sync like there was never any time spent apart, and like nothing could come between you again. the hand that was on the side of your face finds the back of your neck, making the kiss deeper and rougher - and there was an ache inside your belly that made you pull away.
steves face was flushed, and his lips were begging to be kissed again. but you knew better.
”i don’t need saving steve. we need fixing.”
—————
steve’s out of ideas. dustin was being irritable and robin was in her own world. it seems like every time he’s tried to fix things with you he says the wrong thing, or does the wrong thing, and his foot ends up in his mouth. you deserve better. he knows that. he knows he can be better.
words are not his strong suit. only actions. his whole life he hasn’t had to say a lot. he just had to smile and pretty much things came easy to him. but not since the monsters, and not since you. ever since your break, all he had to do was imagine your disapproving stare and it was enough for him to fuck up a little less.
but that’s not enough.
he misses your touch, and your laugh. he misses the weight of your body when you’d cuddle up to watch movies. he misses you cleaning up his face when he got bruised and bloody. he misses you forcing him to include you in the dangerous stuff even though all he wanted to do was protect you.
and thats what the break was for. protetction. of both your hearts. but to him, the more time apart the more his heart breaks, and the more lost he gets.
—————
it’s been a few days since the kiss and yet tensions between you and steve, and everyone else, were as high as ever. the wheeler’s were attacked, holly was gone, and the new plan was to track the demogorgan - and steve would be on the front line. after discussing the plan steve almost raced out even after your silent longing looks back and forth.
before he could leave you pulled him to the side. you were tired of him running towards dangerous situations to be avoidant - you were tired of him running away from his problems. running away from you.
”please, don’t.”
he searched your eyes for words he still couldn’t seem to spit out. even though you were right in front of him.
“just trust me, i’m gonna fix this.” and he was gone with a kiss to your forehead.
—————
you watched as jonathan and nancy hopped in the car - and now the only thing between you and steve were unspoken words, and miles.
they weren’t responding on the walkie and you could feel your heart beating through your ears. your fingers felt heavy, and you eyes filled with tears. why did you keep leaving things like this with him?
all of a sudden there was static coming through the walkie. you rushed towards it and so did joyce and robin.
”y/n! y/n! can you hear me?!” steve shouts through the static.
”yes! what’s happening?”
“you wanna put these on?!” you hear dustin shout.
“i’m driving!” steve yells back.
joyce, robin and you look at eachother confused.
”y/n!” steve yells again. “y/n you never needed saving. and we never needed a break. i wasn’t there for you in the ways you needed me to be and i swear to god if i make it out of here alive i’ll be there for you in all the right ways and more. baby,” the walkie begins to pick up tons of static and you can barely hear what he’s saying. you hear the car go fast, and dustin’s shouts in the background. “please forgive me, and please trust me.”
• warning(s): fluff mostly lol, harry pov, not proofread fr
• word count: 1.2k
• request(ed): “can you please write a jealous harry potter when his girlfriend starts hanging out with cedric?”
• summary: the request lol
————————————————————————
Every Friday after classes, Harry, you, Ron, and Hermione would find a quiet place to watch a movie on the projector Ron had snuck in. It was a tradition the four of you had come up with after finally each falling into your respective couples. You and Harry were first - you both knew you liked each other but never said anything. After a heated argument one day in the library (mostly you were frustrated he wasn’t being safe and smart with his life after an encounter with you-know-who) and he kissed you right in the middle of your rant. You two had been together ever since. Ron and Hermione finally admitted their feelings shortly after.
Tonight, you were late. Only by a few minutes, but enough to have Harry wondering where you were and how you were doing. What he didn’t expect to see or hear was your giggling followed by a deep voice coming his way. His head turned quickly to find you walking towards the group with Cedric Diggory at your side. Harry furrowed his brows and looked to Hermione and Ron in confusion. They didn’t look as worried as he was, but still offered no kind of relieving explanation. Once you reached them, he watched as you said goodbye and walked over to lean down and kiss Harry on the cheek. Cedric waved to the group before heading forward someplace else.
Harry cleared his throat. “Erm was that Diggory over there?”
“Yeah, it was,” you start, “I ran into him and we were talking about the Transfiguration assignment before we realized we were heading the exact same way.”
“Oh, hm, alright.”
And that was the end of that. Harry didn’t press any further. He didn’t see the need and he wasn’t the type. He was just glad you were at his side now and he could enjoy the movie with you.
The next day at breakfast, Harry listened to how worried you were about passing two of your classes. He tried to tell you everything would be alright but he could hardly get a word in. He didn’t mind though. He liked listening to you even if half of it wasn’t really making any sense.
“Y/N!”
Both Harry and your head turn to the noise. It was Cedric Diggory heading your way, papers in hand.
“Hello Potter.” Cedric says smiling.
“Diggory.” He nods politely.
“Y/N, here are those notes that I promised you. I was able to find them in my things from last yea I had buried.”
“Oh my God thank you!” Harry watches you exclaim. “You’re a life saver!”
Harry rolls his eyes as Cedric walks away. He’s even more surprised when you jump out of your seat.
“I have to go study these Harry, I’ll see you later.”
Unfortunately for him, later wasn’t until the night where he was finally able to see you holed up in your room, Diggory’s notes in hand. Like the good boyfriend he is, Harry brought your favorite snacks because he knew you’d want them and wasn’t sure if you had eaten or not. You told him all about what you had learned and understood now that you had the notes, and he stroked your hair and listened until you fell asleep on his chest. For some reason, even though nothing was wrong, every time you mentioned Cedric and his oh so helpful notes there was a little ball of fire simmering in Harry’s chest. Tonight he would ignore it, but he wasn’t sure for how much longer he would be able to do that.
“Do you think this Diggory thing is weird?” Harry asks Ron during a Wizard’s Chess game the next day. You and Hermione were off in the library looking for a next good read. Harry and Ron weren’t as interested in doing that.
“What Cedric? What thing?”
“Well, I don’t know. First he walks her to us on Friday and now he’s giving her notes?”
Ron stuffs his face with toast before answering, mouth full. “Well, I don’t know, sounds innocent enough to me, she’s been really stressing about that class.”
“Yeah, you’re right.”
After the match, Harry and Ron make their way to the library and see you and Hermione side by side by side looking looking at a book that was thick enough that your foot could probably break if it was accidentally dropped. Unfortunately, Cedric was right in between the two of you.
“This is amazing.” You gleam. Harry watched as you smiled ear to ear looking at the pages in front of you. It didn’t help the ball of fire that Cedric was smiling too.
“Hey guys.” Hermion says. You look up and when you spot Harry you make your way over to him.
“How was chess?” you ask as you kiss him gently on the lips.
Harry kisses you back while still keeping his eye on Cedric. He notices that Cedric’s eyes haven’t left you. “Ron won. What’s going on here?”
“Y/N and I were looking for a really good fantasy book about this Herbologist and Cedric helped us find something even better since we couldn’t find the copy we were looking for. Guess it was already checked out.”
“Hmm.” Harry says.
“What’s wrong?” You ask.
Harry shakes his head as if to say nothing.
Cedric greets the boys and then bids you all goodbye. Harry thought that still his eyes lingered on you for a little too long, but nothing in your response to him gave Harry any pause. You weren’t giving Diggory any extra attention that gave any problem but still he couldn’t quite get the flames to calm down.
Harry held your hand as he walked you to your dorm. He was quiet almost the whole time and let you talk about the book Cedric had introduced you to. To be honest, and he hated, it sounded like a really good book. And Harry hated that. He knows it’s innocent and nothing is technically wrong, but still he was upset because Cedric lately has seemed to be able to help you with so many things.
“Harry?” You ask.
“Hm?” Before he knew it you had already reached your dorm, but he was lost in thought.
“What’s wrong? Honestly this time..” You ask.
“Nothing.” He says. “Nothing’s wrong.”
“Harry, you’re lying.”
Harry wanted to deny and argue, but he knew that you knew him better than that and would beat the answer out of him sooner or later.
“I just, you know, Diggory has been doing a lot for you lately and the way he was looking at you today was just..ya’know I -”
“Harry, are you jealous?”
Harry’s cheeks turned a shade of pink that made you smile.
Harry leaned into you as you cupped on of your hands onto the side of his face and the other ran through his hair.
“Harry, I only have eyes for you. You don’t ever need to worry.”
You press your lips against his and he kisses back with fervor. He liked that your lips tasted like cherries for some reason and he savored it while his hands wrapped around your waist. He got butterflies when you moaned as he gently bit your lip. He loves the feeling of you against him and he just wanted to get closer and be able to be in this moment with you forever.
“That’s good to hear.” He says when you finally break away. He could feel heat in his cheeks almost hotter than the moment the two of you just shared.
“Jealousy is not a good look on you Potter. I prefer flushed instead.”
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