— tjo

that’s just basic being basic!

[hringtn]

welcome to my steve harrington masterlist!

here they are arranged in chronological order, even though i didn’t post them that way. you can still read them independently, although some details from previous fics might be mentioned.

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝ HENDERSON!READER

they’re all from the same universe and definitely an slow burn :)

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝ get to know henderson!reader

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝ monster hunting (s2)

dustin’s new pet kills your cat and suddenly you’re stuck in the woods of hawkins, throwing raw meat and babysitting a monster. somehow, steve harrington is there too. fixing this mess was never the plan, and neither was him.

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝ every breath you take (s2)

you volunteer at prom to avoid prom, between punch cups and slow songs, steve harrington catches you off guard.

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝ second chances (s3)

after dustin drags you to scoops ahoy to translate supposed russian messages, you end up making a new friend, helping more than necessary, and talking to steve harrington after eight months without seeing him.

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝ why would she give a damn about me? (s3)

you always thought steve harrington never noticed you. steve thought the exact same thing about you. after being drugged by the russians, now on the bathroom floor, a lot of badly timed confessions prove you were both wrong.

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝ what is it with the hendersons? (s4)

with eddie munson in hiding and hawkins spiraling, dustin starts acting strangely protective and very jealous about you and steve. because sometimes the real conflict isn’t the monsters, it’s a jealous little brother.

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝ take your word (s4)

while everyone else acts confident, fear creeps in, and when everything finally cracks, steve is the one who follows you, steadying you and reminding you that you don’t have to carry everything alone.

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝ talk to me (s5)

you wake up in steve’s bed, caught between comfort and fear and everything just feels new and real.

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝ coming soon!

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝ OTHERS!

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝ robin’s faith in love

robin never put much faith in love. but at steve’s house, she notices the small, unspoken ways steve and you choose each other.

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝ steve knows how to flirt

you needed to know how the hell steve got away with so many girls.

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝ coming soon!

[hringtn]

talk to me— steve harrington

pairings: steve harrington x fem!henderson!reader!

summary: you wake up in steve’s bed, caught between comfort and fear and everything just feels new and real.

warnings: pre-established relationship (sort of lol)

wc: 1.6 k

find more of henderson!reader here!

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

the sound of the shower is what wakes you up.

not abruptly. not enough to make you move. just enough to pull you halfway out of sleep, tangled in sheets that smell like steve’s detergent and his stupidly nice shampoo. you’re sprawled diagonally across the bed, hair a mess, one arm thrown over a pillow like you lost a fight with it sometime around 3 a.m.

you stare at the ceiling and think, vaguely, about how unfair it is that you have to get up at all. you’re supposed to go to the wsqk. prep for the crawls.

the bathroom door opens, steam spilling out into the room, and you don’t even turn your head at first. you hear him before you see him—bare feet on the floor, the clink of the sink, the cap of the toothpaste snapping open.

“morning,” steve says around his toothbrush.

you finally look.

big mistake.

he’s standing there with a towel slung low around his waist, hair still wet and sticking up in places like he didn’t bother fixing it on purpose. water trails down his neck, disappearing beneath the towel, and he’s watching you like he knows exactly what he’s doing.

you groan and bury half your face in the pillow. “illegal,” you mutter.

steve laughs, muffled by foam. “you’re just mad because i’m productive.”

“you’re brushing your teeth,” you say. “let’s not get carried away.”

he rinses, spits, then glances back at you. “you look comfortable.”

you roll onto your back with a sigh, staring up at him. “i hate mornings.”

“noted,” he says easily. “still gotta get up.”

you make a noise of protest but drag yourself upright anyway, sitting on the edge of the bed like gravity personally betrayed you. you’re still in your bra, so you reach down, grab one of steve’s shirts off the floor, and pull it on without ceremony.

it smells like him. that part, you don’t comment on.

“i need to go to my house,” you say, voice flat. “i’ve been here three days. my mom’s probably convinced i vanished. and i’m out of clothes.”

steve frowns. “you could just grab more stuff later. or… stay.” he shrugs. “my parents aren’t back for weeks.”

you hesitate.

it’s not pity. it’s not obligation. you like being here. like waking up to the sound of him moving around, like knowing he won’t be eating dinner alone, like that this place feels warmer when you’re in it.

still, the idea of him growing up half-ignored, half-forgotten sits heavy in your chest.

“i have to go,” you say finally. “just for a bit.”

steve finishes brushing his teeth, rolls his eyes like he always does when he gives in, and steps closer. “fine. do whatever you want.”

he presses a quick kiss to your cheek before you can overthink it. casual. easy. like it’s nothing.

it’s not nothing.

it still feels new. not bad. just… unfamiliar. he’s basically your boyfriend. you know that. but sometimes the softness sneaks up on you when you’re not looking.

steve turns toward the closet to get dressed. you watch him for a second—just a second—before standing and heading to the bathroom.

while you’re brushing your teeth, you feel him behind you again. this time he’s fully dressed, hair dry, leaning casually against the doorframe.

“hi,” he says.

you glance at him in the mirror. “hi.”

you both smile without meaning to. he leans in and presses a light kiss along your jaw, barely there, like he’s testing the moment.

after the kiss lands on your jaw, you pull away instinctively.

not sharply. not like it bothers you. just a small step back, like your body moves before your brain can catch up. steve notices immediately.

his smile fades, just a little.

“hey,” he says. “you okay?”

you freeze for half a second, toothbrush still in your mouth, then nod too quickly. “yeah. yeah, i’m fine.”

you turn back to the sink, focus way too hard on rinsing, on not looking at him in the mirror. “you should, uh—get out. i need to shower.”

steve doesn’t move.

he leans against the counter instead, arms crossed, watching your reflection like you might disappear if he looks away. “you sure?”

you sigh. try again. “steve.”

“what?” he asks, softer now. “you pulled away.”

you roll your eyes, finally turning to face him. “steve, literally—this is the third day in a row i’ve woken up in your bed in a bra. a kiss on the jaw doesn’t mean anything, okay?”

you say it lightly. too lightly. like you’re brushing off lint instead of a feeling.

but steve doesn’t laugh. doesn’t tease you. he just looks at you, brows drawn together, concern written all over his face in a way that makes your chest tighten.

“i know it doesn’t mean nothing,” he says quietly. “i just wanna know if you’re okay.”

that’s the problem.

you exhale, running a hand through your hair. “i’m fine,” you repeat, gentler this time. “i just—didn’t expect it. that’s all.”

he hesitates, clearly not fully convinced, then nods. “okay.”

the bathroom hums softly around you—the fan, the drip of the showerhead cooling down—but the space between you feels louder than any of it. you shift your weight, uncomfortable under his steady gaze.

“steve?” you say. “hello? i need to shower.”

“i know,” he replies, not budging. “but i can’t just walk away like that.”

you frown. “like what?”

“like something’s wrong and you’re pretending it’s not,” he says gently. “i don’t wanna leave with that sitting here.”

you exhale through your nose, eyes flicking away. “you’re overthinking.”

“maybe,” he says. then, softer, “but i need to know you’re okay.”

you’re quiet for a few seconds. long enough that he steps closer, slow, careful, like he’s giving you time to pull back if you want to.

instead, he takes your hand.

he presses a small kiss to your knuckles—nothing dramatic, just warm and grounding—and looks up at you. “talk to me.”

that’s what finally does it.

you inhale, deep, steadying yourself. “this is all… new for me,” you admit. “like—really new. i still haven’t processed that i wake up next to you. that this is a thing.”

you swallow, jaw tightening. “and sometimes it freaks me out.”

steve doesn’t interrupt. he just listens.

“i like it,” you add quickly, eyes snapping back to his. “i like being here. with you. don’t take it the wrong way.”

“i’m not,” he says immediately.

you hesitate, then push through. “you’ve… done this before. relationships. and i haven’t. not like you. and with the crawls, and the upside down, and everything constantly trying to kill us—” you laugh once, hollow. “i think part of me is just scared.”

“scared of what?” he asks.

your voice drops. “of losing you.”

that lands heavy.

steve’s thumb brushes over your knuckles, grounding, reassuring. “hey,” he murmurs. “you don’t have to be good at this, which you are by the way, or anything.”

you let out a shaky breath. “i know. i just—needed you to know it’s not you. it’s my brain spiraling.”

he nods, stepping closer until there’s barely any space between you. “thanks for telling me,” steve says, and then he adds, softer, “i get it.”

you look up at him, surprised.

“i’m scared all the time,” he admits with a small shrug. “i just hide it better.”

that earns him a look. “you do not.”

he smiles. “okay, maybe not better. but still.”

he squeezes your hand. “and… whatever this is—” he gestures vaguely between you, “—our very official, extremely confusing, definitely-not-boyfriend-but-also-totally-boyfriend situation…”

you laugh despite yourself, the tension easing out of your shoulders.

“that—” he continues, “it makes everything feel like it matters more. like there’s a point to pushing through all the crap.” he hesitates. “and if you need to go slower, i’m okay with that. really.”

you straighten immediately. “no, no, no—absolutely not.”

steve blinks. “not—?”

“i don’t want to go slower,” you say quickly. “that’s not it. my head just… messes with me sometimes. i overthink. i spiral. and then suddenly i’m convinced i’m doing everything wrong.” you exhale. “i don’t know. i’m sorry.”

“hey,” he says, shaking his head. “don’t apologize for that.”

you open your mouth, then close it again.

“we’re gonna have to work on that,” he adds gently. “you say sorry way too much.”

you huff. “i do not.”

he smiles and leans in, pressing another soft kiss to your cheek.

this time, you move—just a little—and catch his lips in a quick peck.

you both freeze.

then you laugh, quiet and surprised, still close enough to feel each other’s breath. you linger there for a second, eyes flicking down, back up.

before you can overthink it, you cup his face and pull him back in.

the kiss deepens easily, naturally, like it’s been waiting. steve’s hands slide to your waist, firm, grounding—and you bump backward into a small piece of furniture by the sink.

it tips. clatters to the floor.

you jump apart at the sound, hearts racing, staring at each other for half a second before both of you break into grins.

you snort. “okay. you definitely need to leave so i can shower.”

steve laughs, nodding. “yeah. probably.”

he backs toward the door, still smiling at you like he’s memorizing the moment, then slips out of the bathroom.

the door closes, and a second later his voice carries through it—bright, fond.

“hurry up! we’re already late! i’m going downstairs to make breakfast!”

you’re left standing in the middle of the bathroom, heart still pounding, staring at nothing in particular.

oh, wow.

hell yeah this is new.

[hringtn]

every breath you take — steve harrington

pairings: steve harrington x fem!henderson!reader

summary: you volunteer at prom to avoid it, between punch cups and slow songs, steve harrington catches you off guard.

wc: 3k

a/n: english isn’t my first language so let me know any mistakes! also this is not proofread.

my masterlist!

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

the gym looks like a lie.

streamers in school colors hang from the basketball hoops, limp and overworked, and the lights are dimmed just enough to feel romantic if you don’t think too hard about the smell of floor polish and teenage desperation. a banner that reads congratulations class of ’86 droops slightly in the middle, like even it is tired.

you stand behind the punch table, sleeves rolled up, hair already threatening to fall apart. you didn’t come to prom because you wanted to. that detail matters to you. you came because it looks good on applications. community involvement. school spirit. social engagement. all very convincing lies.

you’ve been refilling plastic cups all night, correcting the ratio of punch to soda when no one is looking, keeping the napkins from running out. it’s something to do with your hands. something useful. no small talk required.

music thumps through the gym, something upbeat, a little too loud, and you let it wash over you, grounding you the way it always does. even muffled and distorted through cheap speakers, it steadies your breathing.

you’re mid pour when jonathan byers appears beside the table, camera hanging from his neck, eyes tired but kind.

“hey,” he says, like he’s not sure he’s allowed to interrupt your very important punch duties.

you snort softly. “if you’re here to photograph the punch bowl, i should warn you, it’s not very photogenic.”

jonathan smiles, the small, real kind. “i’m on a break. thought i’d say hi.”

you lean against the table for a moment, watching couples sway awkwardly on the dance floor. it’s not uncomfortable. quiet, mostly. your preferred setting.

“so,” jonathan says eventually, glancing at you. “i heard you got into nyu.”

you stiffen for half a second before relaxing. “yeah. physics.”

“that’s… wow,” he says, genuinely impressed. “that’s huge.”

you shrug, instinctive, like you’re trying to make the weight of it smaller. “i guess.”

but your fingers tighten briefly around the plastic ladle. nyu means distance. it means starting over. it means everything you worked for and everything you’re afraid of, all at once.

jonathan nods, thoughtful. “i always thought about going there. photography program’s supposed to be amazing.”

there’s something careful in his tone. something resigned.

you glance at him, then back at the dance floor. “why don’t you?”

he exhales. “money. and… my mom needs help. i need to work.”

that familiar pressure hits your chest, the instinct to fix, to protect, colliding with the fact that this is not a problem you can solve. words fail you more often than not, especially when they matter.

so you do what you can.

“that doesn’t make it impossible,” you say slowly. “just… delayed.”

jonathan looks at you, surprised, like he didn’t expect that kind of certainty from you. you clear your throat.

“i mean,” you add, a little awkward, “you’re good. really good. so… yeah.”

it’s clumsy. incomplete. but jonathan smiles anyway, softer this time.

“thanks,” he says. “that actually helps.”

jonathan shifts his weight against the punch table, camera hanging loose around his neck as he watches nancy in the back of the gym laughing with a friend like he’s framing it in his head.

“you know,” he says after a moment, “i never thought i’d actually enjoy something like this.”

you keep lining up plastic cups. “the dance or the aggressively tragic decorations?”

he smiles faintly. “nancy.”

that makes you pause. not much. just enough to look at him.

“yeah?” you ask, genuinely curious.

he nods, expression softer now, steadier. “yeah. i mean… not just right now. sometimes i catch myself thinking about later. about a future. with her.”

the words hang there, heavy but not uncomfortable. the music pulses in the background, lights sweeping over the walls. you don’t answer right away.

you’re happy for him, truly, but the idea itself feels distant, almost abstract. imagining a later with someone. choosing permanence. wanting it.

“that’s… big,” you say finally.

jonathan shrugs, a little shy. “i know. it kind of scared me at first.”

you let out a quiet breath, nodding. “yeah. that checks out.”

he laughs softly. “you don’t exactly sound surprised.”

“i’m not,” you admit. “you look at her like she’s something worth protecting. that usually gives it away.”

jonathan’s smile widens, proud and fond. “i am. she is.”

something shifts in your chest at that. a question you don’t quite know how to ask settles in instead. will that ever be me. not with him. with anyone.

you clear your throat, focusing back on the punch bowl. “well. for what it’s worth, i’m glad it’s you two.”

“i know you and nancy don’t exactly—”

“get along?” you supply flatly.

he chuckles. “yeah.”

“that’s fine,” you say. “i don’t have to like everyone to be happy they’re happy.”

jonathan looks at you for a second longer, like he’s cataloging that sentence, then nods. “you’re a good person, you know that?”

you scoff. “careful. i have a reputation.”

before he can respond, someone calls his name from across the gym. he lifts his camera again.

“i should get back to it,” he says. “yearbook waits for no one.”

“tragic,” you deadpan.

he laughs and disappears into the crowd.

you return to pouring punch, but your mind lingers. on futures. on wanting someone so clearly it doesn’t feel like a risk.

the night stretches on.

the gym grows warmer, louder, the edges of it softening as people loosen up. shoes come off under tables. someone spills punch near the bleachers and pretends it was on purpose. the music slows, then slows again.

you’re still at the punch table when you notice steve hovering nearby, pretending to be very interested in a conversation he’s clearly not part of. it takes you a second to realize he’s waiting.

you sigh, wipe your hands on a napkin, and step out from behind the table.

“you’re pacing,” you say.

steve blinks, caught. “i am not.”

“you walked past the same banner three times.”

he glances back at it. “it’s a very compelling banner.”

you snort despite yourself. that earns you a small, relieved smile from him.

you drift toward the edge of the gym, away from the speakers, settling near the bleachers where the noise dulls into something manageable. the lights don’t reach as harshly here. everything feels slower.

“so,” steve says, rocking slightly on his heels, “you always this productive at dances?”

“definitely not, i hate this,” you reply.

he nods. “yeah. i usually just… stand there and hope someone tells me what i’m supposed to do.”

you look at him sideways. “you? former king of hawkins high?”

he grimaces. “former being the key word.”

he holds his breath and then he says “congrats on nyu, dustin told me.”

“let me guess,” you reply. “several times.”

“and with diagrams.”

that gets a small smile out of you. steve notices it, even if he doesn’t comment. he notices a lot more than he lets on these days.

“physics,” he adds. “that’s… yeah. that tracks.”

you raised an eyebrow. “what’s that supposed to mean?”

he shrugs. “you don’t panic. even when things are bad. you just… figure stuff out.”

it’s said plainly. no flirting layered on top. just an observation. it unsettles you more than a compliment would’ve.

you look away first, focusing on anything else but him. “i panic. i just do it quietly.”

steve watches your hands, steady and practiced. he remembers you like that focused, sharp, unyielding when things went wrong. he remembers realizing, somewhere between fear and adrenaline, that you weren’t who he thought you were.

and that maybe he wasn’t who you thought he was, either.

there’s a beat. comfortable. strange in a good way.

“you know,” he says after a moment, “before… all the stuff”

“the demogorgons,” you supply.

“yeah. before that.” he scratches the back of his neck. “i thought you hated me.”

you don’t answer immediately. the music shifts again, something slow and soft.

“i didn’t hate you,” you say finally. “i just thought you were… different.”

“different how?”

you consider him. the way he’s not posturing. not trying to be impressive. just there.

“like you’d never notice anything that actually mattered,” you admit.

steve exhales a quiet laugh. “fair.”

“and i was wrong,” you add, almost reluctantly.

he looks at you then, really looks at you. “yeah,” he says. “you were.”

the words settle between you, not defensive, not bitter. just true.

you fold your arms loosely. “i was wrong about a lot of things.”

“so was i,” he says. he doesn’t say about you, but it’s there anyway, in the way his gaze doesn’t drift.

another pause. the gym feels far away now.

“you excited about new york?” he asks.

“yes,” you say, immediate. then, softer, “terrified. but mostly excited.”

“kind of want to disappear into it?” he asks, careful.

you nod. “yeah. be someone no one already has an opinion on.”

steve gets that. too easily.

“that sounds… nice,” he says. he tries to keep it light, but the thought of you out there, somewhere bigger, louder, without him accidentally running into you, lands heavier than he expects.

the song changes again. this time “every breath you take” by the police.

slower. softer. couples begin migrating to the center of the gym, awkward hands finding places to rest.

steve notices before you do. notices the way the space between you suddenly feels louder. notices his heart picking up like it’s anticipating something he hasn’t decided to do yet.

he shifts his weight. opens his mouth. closes it.

you glance toward the dance floor, then back at him. “you look like you’re about to talk yourself out of something.”

he huffs a quiet laugh. “is it that obvious?”

“painfully.”

he hesitates, just a second too long, then lifts his hand, not touching you, just offering the possibility.

“do you want to…?” he trails off, gesturing vaguely toward the dance floor. “we don’t have to actually dance. we can just… stand there.”

you look at his hand. at him. at the way he’s clearly bracing for rejection but trying not to make it a whole thing.

so careful. so respectful.

“okay,” you say.

his shoulders drop in visible relief. “yeah?”

“yeah.”

you move toward the dance floor together, not quite close, not quite distant. steve lets you set the pace. when you finally stop, there’s a beat of uncertainty, then you step in just enough to make the decision for both of you.

his hands settle, tentative but steady. yours rest lightly against his jacketless shoulders.

you sway, barely moving, more like an agreement to exist in the same space than an actual dance. steve steps on your foot once. then again.

you look up at him, unimpressed.

“you’re really bad at this,” you say.

he winces. “hey. i’m trying.”

“actively failing,” you add.

steve exhales a laugh, shaking his head. “okay, fine. dancing’s not my thing. but i’m very good at other stuff.”

the pause that follows is just a beat too long.

you narrow your eyes. “don’t.”

“what?” he asks, too innocent. “i meant—”

“i know exactly what you meant.”

you laugh anyway, a short, surprised sound you don’t bother stopping. steve grins, pleased he got that reaction, even if it wasn’t the one he planned.

“relax,” he says. “i’m a reformed idiot.”

you tilt your head. “then i hope you’re at least as good at those other things as you are at killing demogorgons.”

his eyebrows lift. “wow. high bar.”

“life or death,” you reply calmly.

he chuckles, shaking his head.

you keep swaying, still awkward, still careful. but something has shifted, small, quiet, unmistakable.

for the first time all night, you’re not thinking about applications or futures or leaving. steve isn’t thinking about what comes after either.

just the music.

just the moment.

just the quiet realization that sometimes, something starts before you’re ready to name it.

[hringtn]

steve harrington x reader ──

summary: you needed to know how the hell steve got away with so many girls.

a/n: kind of short again! but i love to write these little ones! also english isn’t my first language let me know any mistakes! (oh and this is based on a movie i watched recently lol)

my masterlist!

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

steve harrington was being unbearable.

not in a loud way. not in an obvious way. in the subtle, infuriating way where he walked beside you through the grocery store like it was a runway and he was accidentally charming every girl within a five-aisle radius.

it started in produce. a quick smile to the girl picking apples. then aisle three, pasta, where he reached past someone for a box of spaghetti and said, “sorry,” like it was a personal gift. she laughed. of course she did.

you watched it all with morbid fascination.

“you’re doing it again,” you said, grabbing cereal off the shelf.

“doing what?” steve asked, innocence fully activated.

“that,” you gestured vaguely. “the… thing. the charming thing. you flirt like you’re not even aware you’re flirting.”

he scoffed. “i do not.”

you stopped the cart. turned to face him. “oh my god. you do. constantly.”

“i’m just being nice.”

“you winked at someone in frozen foods.”

“that was an eye spasm.”

you snorted. “okay, casanova. prove it.”

“prove what?”

“show me,” you said. “demonstrate. how does it work? what do you do?”

steve stared at you for a second, then shook his head. “nope. absolutely not.”

“why not?”

“because i’m obviously not going to flirt with you.”

“tragic,” you replied, pushing the cart forward. “anyway, we need milk.”

and just like that, the conversation was over. filed away. forgotten.

or so you thought.

because somewhere between dairy and bread, steve shifted.

not dramatically. just closer. a half-step. his shoulder brushing yours when he reached for something. his voice dropping when he spoke, like the grocery store was suddenly full of secrets.

“you always get the low-fat one?” he asked, leaning over the cart.

“yeah,” you said. “habit.”

“hm,” he hummed. “boring. but consistent. respectable.”

you laughed. “are you reviewing my milk choices now?”

“just observing,” he said lightly. “you have a very… intentional way of doing things.”

you glanced at him. “is that a compliment?”

“could be,” he replied, eyes flicking to you for half a second too long.

you didn’t notice. not consciously. you just felt warmer. more amused than usual.

in aisle seven, he handed you a box of cookies. “you like these.”

“i didn’t say that.”

“you didn’t have to.”

you smiled despite yourself. “don’t get cocky.”

“never,” he said. “you’d hate it.”

you laughed again. followed the rhythm easily. too easily.

a few aisles later, steve slowed down near the international foods section. he picked up a box and squinted at it like it had personally offended him.

“hey,” he said casually, holding it up. “how do you say this?”

you leaned over to look. “it’s… gnocchi.”

he frowned. “no.”

“yes.”

“there’s no way that’s right.”

you laughed. “it is. it’s pronounced ‘nyoh-kee.’”

“that feels illegal,” he said. “say it again.”

“gnocchi,” you repeated patiently.

he tilted his head. “slower.”

you narrowed your eyes but humored him. “nyoh. kee.”

“huh.” he nodded, completely serious. “you’re really good at that.”

“at pronouncing words?”

“yeah,” he said. “you have a nice way of explaining things.”

you blinked. “it’s just a word, steve.”

“still,” he replied. “you make it sound easy.”

you shook your head, smiling despite yourself. “you’re ridiculous.”

“maybe,” he said, swapping the box into the cart, “but you’re kind of amazing with language.”

you laughed. “okay, now you’re just being dramatic.”

“i’m being honest.”

you kept walking.

two aisles later, he stopped again, grabbed another product. “what about this one?”

you sighed. “you’re kidding.”

“i would never.”

you leaned in again. “it’s bruschetta.”

“brus… what?”

“brus-ket-ta.”

he nodded slowly. “wow.”

“what.”

“you’re like… really good with words,” he repeated. “ever think about teaching?”

you snorted. “this is not teaching. this is you pretending to be confused.”

“or,” he said, stepping closer, lowering his voice just a little, “it’s me enjoying listening to you talk.”

that did it.

you froze mid-step.

looked at him.

really looked.

the way he was smiling, not smug, not obvious. soft. amused. watching you like he’d been doing it all along.

“…steve,” you said slowly.

“yeah?”

“…are you flirting with me?”

he blinked. once. then grinned.

“you asked for a demonstration.”

you stared at him for a second, then burst out laughing. “oh my god. you’re actually really good at that.”

he laughed too, rubbing the back of his neck like it wasn’t news at all. “yeah,” he admitted easily. “i’ve been told.”

you shook your head, still smiling. “that’s so annoying.”

“i know,” he said, clearly enjoying himself.

you nudged him with your shoulder. “you’re such an idiot.”

“and yet,” he replied, grin wide, “you followed along.”

you rolled your eyes. “don’t let it go to your head, harrington.”

“already did,” he said, laughing.

you went back to the cart like nothing had happened.

except, of course, it had.

[hringtn]

steve harrington x reader ──

summary: robin never put much faith in love. but at steve’s house, she notices the small, unspoken ways steve and you choose each other.

a/n: this is pretty short, but i’ve been a bit inactive and wanted to post <3 as always, english isn’t my first language, so let me know any mistakes!

my masterlist!

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

robin always thought love was mostly a rumor. something people exaggerated to survive bad decisions and shared custody schedules. her parents tried it once, failed impressively, and now communicated only through lawyers and tense holiday cards. very poetic. very convincing.

so she didn’t believe in it. not really.

especially not the kind that lasted.

robin didn’t understand men, and she definitely didn’t understand straight relationships. but she understood patterns. and this didn’t look like something doomed from the start. it looked… real. and that was the worst part.

robin had agreed to movie night. steve’s living room was dim except for the tv glow. robin sat on the floor with her back against the couch, arms crossed, pretending she was deeply invested in the plot. she wasn’t. the movie had explosions and a confusing timeline. she’d already given up.

you were beside steve, legs tucked under you, sharing a blanket like it was a neutral treaty zone. nothing dramatic. nothing obvious.

half an hour in, you leaned forward.

“i’m gonna grab popcorn. this movie is unwatchable, who chose this?”

“i’ll come with you,” steve said immediately, already standing.

robin glanced up. “wow. teamwork. beautiful. really warms my heart.”

“you don’t have one of those,” steve replied.

you laughed soft and automatic then he followed you toward the kitchen.

robin stayed behind. obviously. she was not a creep. she just… watched. casually.

the kitchen light flicked on. you reached for the popcorn, knocked over a bowl, muttered an apology to the inanimate object. steve picked it up before it hit the floor.

“i’ve got it,” steve said.

“i know,” you answered, and there was something about the way you said it. not relieved. not surprised. just… certain.

they moved around each other easily, like this wasn’t the first time, like there was an invisible map only they could see. steve handed you the popcorn without asking how much butter you wanted. you didn’t thank him, not verbally. you just bumped your shoulder into his, quick and fond.

robin felt it then. not a lightning strike. more like a quiet realization settling somewhere uncomfortable.

steve leaned against the counter, watching you pour the popcorn. not staring. not hovering. just… there. when you glanced up, he smiled, not his big one, not the performative one. the small, private version. the one that didn’t ask for attention.

“you okay?” you asked.

“yeah,” he said. “you?”

“yeah.”

a pause. not awkward. just quiet.

“why are you looking at me like that?” you asked, amused.

“like what?” steve replied.

you tilted your head. “like that.”

he shrugged. “nothing.”

robin almost scoffed. classic. the oldest lie known to man.

you smiled anyway. “you’re bad at lying.”

“i’m amazing at lying,” he said. “i’m just choosing honesty today.”

you laughed, shaking your head, and that’s when he stepped closer. not rushed. not sneaky. just enough to lower his voice.

“you’re really beautiful,” he murmured.

robin looked away. reflexively. because that felt… private.

there was a soft sound after that. not dramatic. just a quick kiss, gone almost before it settled.

you pulled back immediately. “steve.”

“what?” he asked, already smiling.

“robin’s right there.”

he rolled his eyes. “she’s watching the movie, she’s fine.”

you nudged him with your elbow, smiling despite yourself. “behave.”

“no promises,” he said, grabbing the popcorn bowl. “but i’ll try.”

they headed back to the living room, shoulder to shoulder.

robin pretended very hard not to notice how naturally they fit like that.

steve set the bowl between you like it belonged there. you took a handful. then, without looking, passed some to him. he didn’t hesitate.

robin exhaled slowly.

she’d spent hours thinking love had to be loud to be real. messy. painful. something that left collateral damage and lawyers involved. her parents had proven that theory very thoroughly.

but this? this wasn’t loud. it wasn’t fragile. it wasn’t begging to be noticed. it was quiet confidence. shared jokes. whispered truths in kitchens.

“so,” robin said, breaking the silence, “are we actually watching this or are we just emotionally developing in the background?”

steve snorted. you smiled.

“we’re watching,” he said. “probably.”

robin nodded, eyes back on the screen.

great.

because now love wasn’t a rumor. it wasn’t a cautionary tale or a failed experiment. maybe it was just people choosing each other in small moments, over popcorn, without needing permission.

and if that was true—

well. that meant it might exist for her too.

and that thought was terrifying.

and kind of nice.

[hringtn]

do you take requests?

yes i do! don’t be afraid to send me anything you want! requests, questions, thoughts, anything!

[hringtn]

monster hunting — steve harrington

pairings: steve harrington x fem!henderson!reader

summary: dustin’s new pet kills your cat and suddenly you’re stuck in the woods of hawkins, throwing raw meat and babysitting a monster. somehow, steve harrington is there too. fixing this mess was never the plan, and neither was him.

wc: 3.6k

a/n: english isn’t my first language so let me know any mistakes.

my steve harrington masterlist!

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

you got home, got off your bike, and instantly felt it. something was wrong. really wrong. where was your mom? why wasn’t her car there? it always was. always.

you leaned your bike carefully against the house and stepped inside quietly, like the place might hear you.

“mom? dustin?” you called out. nothing. where the hell were they? your stomach twisted. after everything that happened last year with will byers disappearing, you’d stayed alert. maybe too alert. alert to the idea that something bad could happen to your family. at seventeen, you’d decided it was probably some kind of post-traumatic stress. lucky you.

“dustin? dustin!” you walked into his room and froze. it was a mess, even by dustin standards. then you saw it. blood stains on an armchair. more on the closet door. your soul practically left your body. “oh, god”

“dustin! dustin!” you ran through the house, heart racing so hard it felt like it was slipping out of your hands. the living room. the kitchen. your mom’s room. yours. nothing. “dustin!” you screamed as you rushed out to the backyard.

and there he was.

thank god. really, thank god. holding… a shovel? great. had he killed your mom or something?

“dustin!” you yelled, running toward him.

“oh no,” dustin muttered, quickly stepping in front of a hole in the ground.

“what are you doing? where’s mom?” you asked carefully, trying to look past him. “dustin?”

he got nervous instantly. “uh— she— she went out! she went to look for mews!” he shifted in place like he couldn’t stand still.

mews. oh god. mews.

“dustin… what are you burying?” you stepped closer.

“nothing! nothing, i swear!” he tried to block your view.

“shit, dustin! is that mews? what did you do?” when you finally looked into the hole, your stomach dropped. your cat. or… part of her.

“i didn’t do anything!” dustin yelled back.

“then what the hell happened?” you yelled.

“dart! dart did!” dustin looked seconds away from completely breaking down.

“dart!? who the hell is dart, dustin!?” why did this happen to you? couldn’t you have one normal year?

“nobody, nobody!” he shouted. you just stared at him. yeah. you were judging him. hard.

finally, dustin sighed. “i— i adopted this thing and then— then it grew and ate our cat.” he stared at the ground.

“what kind of thing eats a cat, dustin?” he didn’t answer. just looked at you. “dustin!”

okay. so basically, dustin had adopted a freaking demogorgon. and it ate your cat. cool.

“listen, i’ll fix this, okay?” he said later, while both of you were on the floor scrubbing blood out of his carpet. a sentence you never thought you’d live.

“how could you?” you rolled your eyes, still scrubbing.

“i’ll call for help. i’ll call for help and we’ll kill dart.” he stood up, pulling off his gloves.

“where are you going?” you stared at him like he’d completely lost it.

“for help! don’t worry, i’ve got everything under control.” he ran out before you could stop him.

“dustin!” you chased him through the house.

“i’ve got it under control! wait here, i’ll be back!” and then he was gone, already riding off on his bike.

shit.

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

“your line has been busy for over two hours, mr. wheeler. do you realize this?” dustin said when the door finally opened at the wheeler house.

“oh i do realize.” wow. what a stupid face.

“is mike home?” dustin asked.

“no.”

“no?” what does he mean no? “well, where the hell is he?”

“karen, where’s our son!?” dustin heard karen answer from somewhere inside. “will’s.” he just repeated it.

dustin sighed. “no one’s answering there. nancy. where’s nancy?” he knew you didn’t like her, but help was help.

“karen, where’s nancy?” karen answered again. “ally’s. our children don’t live here anymore. you didn’t know that?”

“seriously?” dustin hated his stupid face, his stupid voice, his stupid everything.

“am i done here?”

“son of a bitch. you’re really not help at all, you know that?” dustin turned to leave. how was he supposed to tell you he’d failed this badly?

he grabbed his bike, ready to go, when a nice car parked in front of the house.

steve harrington.

great. help was help.

“steve? are those for mr or mrs wheeler?” dustin asked, walking up to him.

steve looked confused, first at dustin, then at the flowers. “no…”

“good.” dustin took the flowers right out of his hand.

“hey. what the hell? hey!”

“nancy isn’t home,” dustin told him.

“where is she?”

“doesn’t matter! we have bigger problems than your love life. you still have that bat?” dustin said, already opening the car door.

“bat? what bat?” steve looked completely lost. honestly, fair.

“the one with the nails,” dustin said, like it was obvious.

“why?”

“i’ll explain it on the way home.” dustin was basically already inside the car. “now!”

steve got in and started the engine. “home? what home?”

“my home, steve!” dustin rolled his eyes, done with the questions. “we need to go get my sister! i promised i’d bring help, that’s what i’m doing! now drive.”

“your sister?” steve stared at him, wide-eyed.

“god, yes, steve! my fucking sister, let’s go!”

“alright, alright!” and finally, he drove off.

why the hell was dustin taking so long? where was he even getting help from? you were starting to worry. and what if another demogorgon ate him? oh, no.

you kept thinking all of this while lying on your bed, staring at the ceiling, counting cracks you’d never noticed before. what were you even supposed to do with one of those things in your bunker anyway?

then you heard it. the sound of a car engine stopping outside your house.

since when did dustin have access to a car?

you got up as fast as you could and headed straight for the front door, swinging it open and looking outside. there was a nice red car parked out front, the trunk wide open, blocking your view of whoever was behind it. whose damn car was that?

“dustin?” you walked closer, cautiously.

suddenly, the trunk slammed shut, loud enough to make you jump, revealing exactly who was there.

was that the fucking steve harrington?

“dustin, what the hell?” you whispered, frozen in place.

dustin just smiled at you. no teeth, of course. “hey, i brought help.” he looked genuinely proud of himself. “told you i had everything under control.”

oh, you were so going to kill him.

“you have everything under control… by bringing steve harrington.”

and of course, steve had been staring at you since you stepped outside. “hi.” he offered an awkward little smile.

you didn’t answer. you just stared at him, judging him silently.

you closed your eyes and sighed. fine.

the three of you walked toward the backyard, heading for the bunker where dustin had, very casually, trapped a monster. dustin walked behind steve, and you stayed behind dustin, just in case. always just in case.

all three of you stared at the bunker door as steve shined his flashlight at it.

“i don’t hear shit,” steve said.

“he’s in there,” dustin shrugged.

“you sure, though?” you asked dustin, uneasy.

steve tapped the door lightly with his nail-studded bat, which, honestly, looked pretty cool. you kind of wanted one.

“all right, listen, kid. i swear, if this is some sort of halloween prank, you’re dead.” steve pointed the flashlight right at dustin’s face.

“it’s not. it’s not a prank. get it out of my face,” dustin complained, squinting.

“honestly, i don’t think it’s a prank,” you told steve. “i literally saw him bury my cat.”

steve sighed and looked at you. “you got a key for this thing?”

you tossed it to him, and he caught it perfectly. good reflexes. weird, considering his team always lost basketball championships.

steve forced the doors open and the three of you leaned in slowly. you grabbed dustin by the shoulders, stopping him from getting too close. “he must be further down there,” dustin said.

steve glanced at him. “we’ll stay up here in case he tries to escape.”

steve sighed, peering down the stairs.

“are you really going down there?” you asked quietly, afraid the thing might hear you.

he looked at you while crouching. “i mean… someone has to.”

“no, i don’t think anyone has to, but hey, if you have suicidal instincts, who am i to stop you? go ahead.” you shrugged.

“thanks for the support,” steve replied sarcastically. “i’m good at this, remember?”

of course you remembered. last year he killed a demogorgon with that bat at the byers’ house. but still. luck was a thing.

“oh, sorry, ghostbuster,” you rolled your eyes.

he rolled his eyes back, sighed, and slowly went into the bunker.

your heart was pounding, but everything felt painfully slow. steve didn’t say a word. nothing moved.

“steve? steve, what’s going on down there?” your brother called out, louder than he should’ve.

“shut up.” you smacked the back of his head lightly. “you’re gonna scare your pet.”

“more than steve does with his bat full of nails?” he shot back.

suddenly, a light flashed up at you, making both of you jump. “get down here,” steve called.

dustin tried to go first, but you pulled him back so you could go ahead of him. “stay behind me,” you warned him as you both went down slowly.

when you reached steve, you saw him holding something on his bat. something that looked like… skin. slimy, gross skin. “oh, shit,” dustin muttered.

you gagged softly and looked away. steve and dustin stared at you. “sorry,” you rolled your eyes.

steve pointed his flashlight further into the bunker, revealing a wall completely torn apart. “oh, shit,” dustin said again, this time way more alarmed.

you stepped closer to the tunnel dustin’s pet had made. steve tried to light up as much as he could, but it was too deep. too big. how the hell did something so small do this?

“no way,” dustin said.

“no way,” you repeated.

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

after dustin came up with a plan to trap dart, you went out and bought a lot of raw meat, chopped into gross little pieces, and now you were about to walk along the train tracks in the woods of hawkins.

oh, and guess what? steve harrington was still with you. where the hell had dustin even found him?

you’d never really talked to steve before. not like this. you were nothing alike. steve was extroverted, cocky, social, popular. you were definitely not the life of the party and you hated—hated—school, while school was basically steve’s kingdom.

last year, somehow, steve ended up fighting demogorgons at the byers’ house right next to you. and that was it. you didn’t talk to him again after that. a whole year had passed.

and yet, here you were, standing by his trunk, grabbing rubber gloves and disgusting amounts of raw meat to trap dustin’s pet monster.

“all right, let’s go,” steve said, starting to walk.

“let’s go, baby,” you muttered to dustin as you adjusted your backpack.

“just be there, stat. over and out,” you heard dustin say into his walkie, probably talking to lucas.

you’d been walking for a while now, leaving a trail of raw meat behind you. your heels were starting to hurt.

“all right, so let me get this straight. you kept something you knew was probably dangerous, in order to impress a girl who… you just met?” steve summarized dustin’s story about dart and a girl, max.

“all right… that’s grossly oversimplifying things,” dustin corrected.

“i mean, why would a girl like some nasty slug anyway?” steve asked, genuinely confused.

“an interdimensional slug? cause it’s awesome,” dustin said, like it was obvious.

“yeah… i don’t think so,” you said to dustin.

“see?” steve pointed at you. “and even if she thought it was cool, which she didn’t, i just… i don’t know, i just feel like you’re trying way too hard.”

“yeah, as if that’s the problem,” you rolled your eyes. definitely not the whole risking-his-life thing. why was he always so superficial?

“i mean— he is trying hard,” steve argued.

“because he likes her,” you shot back.

“that’s not how it works,” he defended himself. idiot.

“well, not everyone can have your perfect hair, all right?” dustin muttered, looking down.

“hey… i like your hair,” you whispered just for him to hear you, giving him a little smile. you noticed steve watching you, a tiny smile on his face. barely there, but there.

“it’s not about the hair, man,” steve told dustin. “the key with girls is just… acting like you don’t care.” he shrugged.

“that’s definitely not true, don’t listen to him,” you said, annoyed.

“even if you do?” dustin asked steve.

“yeah, exactly. it drives them nuts.”

“no, it doesn’t. hello? i’m right here,” you said to both of them. “don’t be stupid. it drives nuts absolutely no one.” you rolled your eyes at steve.

“maybe not you. other girls, yeah,” he said, tossing another piece of meat to the ground.

“you have no idea what works with me,” you replied.

i definitely don’t, steve thought.

“that’s not the point, okay?” steve changed the subject. “just… don’t fall in love, man.” he looked at dustin.

“this girl… she’s special. i just like something about her,” dustin said, hopeful, and yeah, that kind of broke your heart.

“hey, whoa, whoa! you’re not falling in love with this girl, are you?” steve stopped him.

“oh, no, no,” dustin replied quickly.

“okay, good. don’t. she’s only gonna break your heart, and you’re way too young for that shit.”

for the first time since steve opened his mouth, you agreed with him. you didn’t want some girl breaking dustin’s heart, especially not this young. no one was ready for that.

“trust me, you’ll be fine,” you said, squeezing dustin’s shoulder in support. he smiled softly and leaned into you for a second before moving ahead, continuing the meat trail for dart.

“you really don’t play about him, do you?” steve said once dustin walked a bit ahead.

you just shook your head.

“a girl of few words, i get it,” he joked.

“i just don’t understand what you’re doing here,” you said honestly.

and you really didn’t. last year, sure, he helped fight demogorgons, but that was because of nancy wheeler. the moment happened. but now? this had nothing to do with nancy. was he really just helping dustin out of the goodness of his heart? that didn’t happen in hawkins. you didn’t trust him.

“look, i get it. you think i’m a self-centered idiot,” he said, tossing another piece of meat like it was nothing.

“i know you’re a self-centered idiot,” you corrected him, not even looking at him.

steve let out a breathy laugh. “yeah, fair. i know i’ve been an idiot my whole life… but i feel different.”

you rolled your eyes. of course he felt that.

steve looked at you and sighed. he didn’t know why he needed so bad you to believe him, why it mattered so much that, even for a second, you might think he wasn’t as bad as you thought. he had no idea how to prove it.

“you don’t have to prove it to me,” you said, like you’d read his mind.

“i’m afraid i do. i don’t want you doing to me what you did to hargrove,” he joked, and you closed your eyes, embarrassed.

billy hargrove. right.

i mean, yeah, maybe he called dustin “dustin the freak henderson” and slammed him to the ground so he wouldn’t hang out with his stepsister, max.

and maybe his car showed up wrecked, with “freak” spray-painted on the side.

maybe.

“don’t mention that,” you said, uncomfortable with people noticing your feelings. whatever they were. in this case, anger.

“i think it was cool. he deserved it,” steve smiled.

“i know he did… i just don’t know,” you sighed.

“what’s wrong?” he looked at you. really looked at you. so much it scared you a little, like he might read your mind.

“i don’t want dustin to have a shitty adolescence like i did… like i do,” you didn’t even know why the hell you told him that.

“he won’t,” steve said, way too sure.

“you don’t know that,” you hated empty promises.

“he won’t because he has you,” steve said back.

“i don’t want to overprotect him, and i’m afraid that i do, but i… i can’t help it,” you said, throwing a piece of meat harder than necessary.

“you don’t. i mean— he’s literally chasing an interdimensional monster right now. look at him,” steve laughed.

and for the first time in a long while, you let out a small laugh too.

“thanks for saying all that. you didn’t have to,” you said quietly.

“i know. i just… you needed to hear it. you’re doing a really good job,” he gave you a soft smile and kept walking.

you stayed still for exactly three seconds. they felt eternal.

maybe steve harrington wasn’t a cocky idiot.

well, maybe cocky.

but not an idiot.

[hringtn]

second chances — steve harrington

pairings: steve harrington x fem!henderson!reader

summary: after dustin drags you to scoops ahoy to translate supposed russian messages, you end up making a new friend, helping more than necessary, and talking to steve harrington after eight months without seeing him.

wc: 2.4k

a/n: english isn’t my first language let me know any mistakes!

my steve harrington masterlist!

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

could you even call these your vacation?

because dustin forcing you to be his personal driver right after you got back from college was definitely not what you’d describe as resting.

dustin placed a hand on your shoulder once you parked the car in the starcourt mall lot. “this thing you’re doing? tagging along with your little brother after all his friends abandoned him? that’s a good deed. you’re a very good person, sister.” he looked at you like some kind of motivational preacher.

“get out of here.” you rolled your eyes and shrugged his hand off as you got out of the car. “remind me what we’re doing here?” you asked once you shut the door, already walking toward the mall.

“hanging out with me. being an amazing sister.” he said, like it was obvious.

“cut it out, you’re not funny. i’m serious. why are we here?”

dustin scoffed. “i already told you, i’ve got something important to do. i think i’m onto something big.” he gestured wildly with his hands. honestly, he was always dramatic. he was walking way too fast, clearly in a rush to get somewhere, and you were almost out of breath trying to keep up.

“and what does that have to do with being here? do you need to buy something…?” you were genuinely confused.

“ice cream.” he glanced at you, then kept walking, laughing to himself.

“sorry?” you let out a breath.

on the way to the ice cream shop, you couldn’t help but actually look around the mall. there were plenty like this back in new york, so it wasn’t exactly mind-blowing, but you still wondered why, out of all places, they’d choose somewhere like hawkins for something like this.

after wandering through the brand-new mall and climbing what felt like two hundred stairs, you finally reached a place called “scoops ahoy.” it looked like an ice cream shop—well, it didn’t just look like one. it very clearly was one.

dustin rushed inside like something was chasing him. you stayed a few steps behind, taking the place in. dustin was greeted by a really pretty girl with short blonde hair. she looked familiar. you just couldn’t place where from.

“hi,” dustin greets her, way too excited, if you’re being honest.

“hi,” the girl replies.

“i’m dustin.” why the hell is he introducing himself?

“i’m robin.”

robin. robin. robin. oh, robin! robin buckley! the band girl! right. of course you remember her.

“pleasure to meet you. is he here?”

“is who here?”

excellent question, band girl.

then the staff door flies open.

oh. that who. great.

steve and your brother immediately start celebrating like they haven’t seen each other in five years, including that weird handshake they do where dustin basically stabs steve.

“how many children are you friends with?” robin asks.

“a lot.” you step a little closer after watching the whole performance.

steve finally turns and notices you. “oh, god,” he mutters. “hi! hi—” he freezes for a second, suddenly remembering the sailor hat on his head, which he immediately takes off and tosses god-knows-where before placing his hands on his hips like that fixes things. “yeah, hi,” he adds, giving you an awkward smile.

“hi,” is all you manage to say, trying very hard not to laugh.

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

“no, no. no way. hotter than phoebe cates? no.” steve tells dustin after he finishes rambling about his new girlfriend, suzie.

“that’s exactly what i told him!” you add, sitting next to dustin.

“i mean— there could be girls hotter than phoebe cates.” steve clears his throat.

dustin rolls his eyes when the topic changes. he very clearly wanted to keep talking about his girlfriend. “she’s brilliant too! and she doesn’t even care that my real pearls are still coming in. she says kissing is better without teeth,” he says, way too proud of himself.

steve and you share an incredulous look before turning back to him.

“wow, man. that’s great! proud of you, man. that’s— that’s kinda romantic,” steve stumbles over his words.

“it is not! that’s disgusting. why would you say that, dustin? i’m literally sitting right here!” you scold him, your face twisted in pure horror. why would you ever care what some girl thinks about your brother’s teeth?

“it is not! you’re just jealous!” dustin shoots back, mouth full of ice cream.

“jealous? jealous of what?” you reply, matching his tone.

“so!” steve speaks louder to get everyone’s attention. “where are the other knuckleheads?” smooth topic change. honestly, good timing, because you were two seconds away from knocking out dustin’s nonexistent teeth.

“they ditched me yesterday.” dustin pokes at his ice cream, annoyed.

honestly, it bothers you too. but there wasn’t much you could do, which is why you brought him to starcourt in the first place. though, now that you think about it, this was definitely a trap. no one mentioned you’d be showing up at steve harrington’s job.

“no…” steve says, surprised.

“my first day back. can you believe that shit?”

“whoa, seriously?” steve looks genuinely shocked. you’re not sure why he cares that much.

“they’re gonna regret it though. big time. when they don’t get to share in my glory.”

“what glory?” you and steve say at the same time, both staring at dustin, confused. what is he talking about?

“what i told you.” he looks at you, lightly punches your shoulder, then motions for both of you to lean in closer. “so last night we’re trying to get in contact with suzie.” you both nod.

“and uh— i intercepted…” he keeps whispering, but neither of you can understand a thing.

“what?” you ask.

dustin takes a deep breath. “uh— i intercepted…” he keeps whispering, covering his face so no one can hear.

“just speak louder,” steve says, obvious as ever.

“i intercepted a secret russian communication!” okay, now he’s shouting. loudly enough that basically the entire ice cream shop turns to look at you.

“sh, sh, yeah— that’s what i thought you said.” steve motions for dustin to quiet down. “what does that mean?”

“it means, guys, we could be heroes. true american heroes.”

“you have to be joking.” you roll your eyes and let your head fall back against the seat.

“and what’s the catch?” there was no way steve was buying this too. except, apparently, he was.

“no catch. i just need your help, guys.”

“with what?” the pretty-haired idiot asks.

dustin pulls out a tiny russian dictionary from his backpack. “translation.” he smiles at both of you.

and you can’t help the small laugh that slips out.

“what are you laughing at?” dustin frowns at you.

“what am i laughing at? you can’t be serious. there’s no way you dragged me out of the house to come all the way here,” you gesture wildly with your hands, “to translate a russian message that accidentally interfered while you were calling your girlfriend— who is hotter than phoebe cates, by the way. somehow.”

“she is!” dustin defends her.

“dustin, that interference could literally be anything!” you try to reason with him.

“like a threat to the united states!”

“or the weather in moscow!” you close your eyes and sigh. “listen, have fun, but there’s no way i’m getting involved in that.” you say, standing up.

“hey— wait! it could be… fun?” steve searches for the right word.

dustin rolls his eyes. “no, let her go. she just won’t get to share the glory.”

“oh, poor me.” you pout dramatically before turning and heading toward the counter.

“i think we’re gonna need her,” steve whispers to dustin once you’re out of earshot.

“definitely.” dustin sighs, tossing his dictionary onto the table.

“hey! can i get a scoop of vanilla, please?” you tell the girl (robin, if you remember right) once you reach the counter.

“sure! hanging out with those two for so long probably messed you up.” she jokes while prepping the scoop.

“big time.” you say, then your eyes follow the boys as they head into the staff area.

“no glory!” your brother yells, lifting the dictionary the second he walks in.

“what’s his deal?” robin asks with a small laugh.

“don’t mind him.” you roll your eyes. “he thinks he cracked some russian code or something.” you laugh.

“russian?” she hands you your ice cream.

“yeah! he built this massive radio thing and swears he heard some russians planning to attack the united states.” you pull out your wallet to pay.

“oh, no.” she pushes your money back. “it’s on the house.” she winks.

“they must pay you well, huh?” you joke.

“oh, totally. i’m one dollar away from finally being able to afford a corn dog.” which makes you laugh way more than it should.

“need help? since steve’s on babysitting duty?” you ask, stepping behind the counter.

“uh- yeah! sure!” she smiles. “but you’ll need the sailor outfit.”

“i’d rather translate an entire russian movie.”

“wish i had that option.” she sighs, and you laugh.

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

after an hour working with robin, you realize she’s actually awesome, and that you even talked to each other once.

you also discover how disgusting customer service is, especially when the customers are dumb teenagers.

“hey, pretty. can i get a chocolate cone? and maybe a kiss too?” says a guy who looks about your age.

“right now we only have ice cream, but good luck with that.” you give him a fake smile while robin laughs and starts making the cone.

“look at that, we’re also out of chocolate.” robin raises her brows. “steve!” she yells for backup.

“aw, sorry, we don’t have that either.” you fake a sad face.

“too sad, that you missed your chance with me.” the guy says.

“what’s actually sad is begging strangers for kisses at an ice cream shop. get out.” you kick him out without hesitation. he just glares and leaves.

“hi! what can we get you?” you smile at the girls waiting behind him.

“hi, can we get two chocolate cones?”

“ugh, steve!” robin complains. “i’ll be right back with the ice cream, okay?” before you can answer, she disappears through the staff door.

“alright, babysitting time is over you need to get in there!” robin bursts back in, scaring steve and dustin.

“hey, my board! that was important data, shirtbirds!” robin complains after steve’s tragic love list vanishes.

“i guarantee you, what we’re doing is way more important than your data.” dustin says, obviously.

“yeah? and how do you know these russians are up to no good anyways?”

steve and dustin share a look.

“how does she know about the russians?” dustin whispers to steve.

“i don’t know.”

“did you tell her about-?”

“no, it wasn’t me-“

“hello! i can hear you!” robin snaps them back to reality. “actually i can hear everything. you are both extremely loud. and your sister told me everything.” this time she looks at dustin.

“what!? why!? ugh, i told you steve, it was jealousy!” he complains.

“she’s amazing, like, seriously amazing! she’s funny and super smart! you have no idea how many idiots she’s told to go to hell.” robin laughs, remembering their crushed faces. “steve, i know all summer you kept saying how much you liked her, but i didn’t know she was this cool!”

“whoa, whoa, whoa!” steve throws the banana peel he was holding right at robin’s face.

“hey!” she complains.

“i- i didn’t say that- i swear i-“ steve nervously tries to explain to dustin.

dustin stares at him, dead serious. “do you think i’m stupid? i know you’re head over heels.” he rolls his eyes. “why do you think i brought her in the first place?” he says, like it’s obvious.

“what-” steve is completely speechless.

“okay! it was funny for the first half hour but i’m done and no one’s paying me for this, alright?” you snap as you storm in. “we’re going home, dustin.”

“what? no! i’m in the middle of my nobel peace prize!” he whines.

“shut up, you’re in the middle of nothing.”

“i have a better idea! maybe we can help.” robin speaks up after a moment. “i’m fluent in four languages, you know?”

“russian?” dustin asks, excited.

“ou-yay are-yay umb-day.” the blonde says perfectly.

steve and dustin start celebrating while robin and you just stare at their stupid faces.

“that was pig latin, assholes.” you say flatly.

“idiot.” steve smacks your brother with a banana peel, which maybe makes you laugh a little.

“come on! your turn to scoop ice cream, our turn to translate, right henderson?” she looks at you for backup. you just shrug. “we don’t even want credit, we’re just bored, please.”

steve hesitates, clearly debating whether to give her the tape.

“please?” you ask this time, and he looks at you.

“fine, whatever.” he hands the tape to robin. “but i’m getting my chance to translate again.”

“yeah, get out of here, dingus.” robin celebrates.

you watch steve walk off, a little frustrated, and maybe, just maybe, you feel kind of bad.

“where are you going? we’re about to be american heroes.” robin mocks.

you turn back to her. “i know, i’ll be right back.” you giggled.

“they wanted chocolate.” you tell steve, leaning on the counter as you watch the girls leave.

“i know, we don’t even have backup.” he sighs.

“why are you even working here anyway? weren’t you supposed to go to college?”

you see his face fall a little. “i- i didn’t get into any. my dad got mad and forced me to work.”

oh. well. that sucks. you were about to joke about it, that’s how you usually dealt with things… but maybe this time wasn’t it.

“well… you can always try again.” you try to be supportive, even if it feels awkward. you’re not great at this.

“yeah- that’s not gonna happen. my dad won’t give me another chance. this is it. my life is officially ruined forever.” he says while wiping the counter.

“yay, optimism!” you throw your arms up sarcastically, making steve laugh softly. “but seriously, you can always try again. there’s always second chances.”

“you believe in second chances?”

“yeah. i mean, no offense, but you’re literally proof of that.” you say, a little too honestly.

“me?” he laughs.

“yeah, you know- the whole ‘steve the king harrington’ thing.” you roll your eyes dramatically. “and now… well, you’re normal.” you make a face.

steve smiles at you. and damn. what a that smile.

“good luck scooping ice cream.” you say, stepping back around the counter to return to robin and your brother. “especially with kids, they go feral for bubblegum flavor. one almost bit robin earlier, but you probably already know that, harrington.” you joke right before disappearing through the door.

steve just taps the counter a couple times, sighing with a smile.

you believed in second chances. and that definitely felt like a start.

[hringtn]

take your word — steve harrington

pairings: steve harrington x fem!henderson!reader

summary: while everyone else acts confident, fear creeps in, and when everything finally cracks, steve is the one who follows you, steadying you and reminding you that you don’t have to carry everything alone.

wc: 1.7 k

a/n: not proofread! also english isn’t my first language so let me know any mistakes!

sort of a part two of this / my steve harrington masterlist!

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

“delivery services.” dustin grins as they walk into the warehouse where eddie’s hiding.

yesterday you promised you’d come back with food and whatever he needed, and of course with a plan to defeat vecna and get him off the cops’ radar. which, yeah, was kind of complicated.

basically, your plan was absolute shit. beat vecna and done. that was it. were they joking? what were you now, the ghostbusters? they can’t seriously expect you to save the world every single time. you were scared, scared as hell.

“so we got, uh, some good news and some bad news.” dustin explains to eddie while we watch him choke on one of the snacks we brought. “how do you prefer it?”

“bad news first, always.” eddie chooses. honestly, solid choice.

“we tapped into the hawkins pd dispatch with our cerebro and they’re definitely looking for you. also they’re pretty convinced you killed chrissy.” dustin explains what we found out. pretty fucked up.

“like 100% kind of convinced.” max adds.

eddie’s face is a whole show, poor guy. “and the good news?” you assume he’s hoping for something better.

“your name hasn’t gone public yet,” robin gives him the good news. good, considering everything. “but if we found out about you, it’s only a matter of time before others do. and once that gets out, everyone and their shallow-minded mother is gonna be gunning for you.” robin makes a worried face.

“hunt the freak, right?” eddie stares off into nothing. he’s probably terrified.

“exactly.” robin nods.

“shit.” that’s all eddie manages to say.

“but before that happens, we find vecna, kill him, and prove your innocence.” dustin clarifies our plan. what a plan.

“that’s all, dustin? that’s all?” eddie looks at us like this is the end of his life.

and honestly, you agreed with him. that was it? they were supposed to defeat this vecna guy they didn’t even really know? who literally killed people with his mind?

when they came up with the plan, you didn’t really have a choice but to agree. you weren’t about to argue, it’s not like there was another solution. still, you didn’t know if you were ready to go through this for a fourth time. you weren’t mentally prepared, or at least that’s what you thought.

“yeah, no, that’s pretty much it.” dustin smiles.

“collectively, i really feel we got this.” robin tries to hype eddie up.

“yeah, see, we usually rely on this girl who has super powers, but uh, those went bye-bye, so…” steve starts talking about eleven. terrible idea, considering she doesn’t even live in hawkins.

“steve, no. don’t mention her.” you whisper.

“what? why?” he whispers back.

“she’s not even here! you’re gonna make eddie think we’re gonna lose this.” you scold him.

“whatever! the point is that technically we’re in a phase of, uh… brainstorming!” max dodges the eleven topic.

“brainstorming! yes!” steve snaps his fingers.

“yeah, there’s nothing to worry about.” dustin and steve say, way too confidently.

“she doesn’t look confident. why don’t you look confident?” eddie points at you with a suspicious look.

that throws you off. “me?” now you point at yourself. “i- i am confident, yeah, i am.” you clear your throat and put both hands on your waist, trying to change the subject.

“you don’t look like it. not at all.” eddie keeps staring at you, almost like he’s judging.

you didn’t want to be the one who ruined the plan to convince him.

“i— i’m sorry, i’ll just step out to get some air—” you’re interrupted by the sound of police and ambulance sirens.

“get back.” steve steps in front of you. “shit.”

“tarp, tarp, tarp.” robin repeats frantically at eddie so he hides from the cops.

everyone moves toward the warehouse window to see why there are so many sirens. they spot multiple police cars speeding down the street.

“where are they going?” you ask, mostly to no one in particular.

“no idea. we should follow them.” dustin turns around.

“follow them? the police? are you insane?” the last thing you wanted was to get involved in even more trouble. and if the cops were driving that fast, it had to be something dangerous.

“i think we should. it might be related to vecna.” steve says carefully, like he’s afraid you might snap.

“what? what are you talking about?” you look to robin and max for backup, but they just shrug, clearly siding with the guys.

“you should definitely go check that out. maybe you’ll find something that helps me.” eddie pops out from under the tarp.

you let out a breathy, disbelieving laugh. “what is wrong with you guys? can we please stop putting ourselves in dangerous situations? there’s literally no reason to follow them.” you were scared. really scared. you didn’t want anyone getting hurt. last summer hopper died shutting down the russian machine, and it destroyed everyone. you weren’t going through that again. next time it could be dustin.

“of course there’s a reason! people are dying because of vecna! and they’re blaming eddie! anything we learn helps. we have to go.” dustin snaps back.

“we don’t have to go anywhere! we don’t even know if this is gonna work!” you yell.

“excuse me? i heard there’s nothing to worry about, and you look pretty worried from where i’m standing.” eddie jumps in. max and robin immediately motion for him to shut up.

“well it’s not gonna work if you’re not willing!” dustin adds, clearly frustrated. maybe even more than you.

“sorry for not being willing to let you risk your life again! or mine! or anyone else’s in this room! why the hell do you take all of this so lightly?” you look at all of them. “we could die. we might not get as lucky as the other times.”

“hey, it’s okay. i think you’re jumping ahead a little. we don’t have to get that close.” robin speaks softly, trying to calm you down.

you take a second to breathe, rubbing your temple. fighting over this made no sense. if you didn’t do it, who would? hawkins was in your hands, and so was eddie’s fate. someone had to do it.

you sigh again. “alright, whatever.” you whisper, then walk out of the warehouse to get some air. you keep walking until you reach steve’s car, lean against it, sighing and wondering what to do.

had you said too much? god, yeah, obviously. now everyone was gonna notice how weak you really were and how you had zero control over yourself. great. have a breakdown in front of everyone. love that.

“i got it.” steve tells the others before going after you. he spots you in the distance, leaning against his car.

“hey, hey…” steve approaches slowly, his voice gentle. “are you okay?” he tries to take your hands, but you pull them away immediately, like they’d burn you.

“let’s get out of here. call the others.” you try to open the passenger door, but it’s locked. “open it.”

“no— hey, talk to me. what happened?” he steps closer, cautious, worry all over his face.

“what happened? nothing happened. open it, steve.” you avoid looking at him.

“listen to me, it’s okay, yeah? what happened back there is okay.” he genuinely tries to get through to you, but god, you’re so embarrassed it hurts.

“harrington.” you look at him, warning him.

“henderson.” he shoots back with a smile. “drop it.” he takes your hand so you let go of the door handle. “it’s okay,” he repeats. “it’s okay to be scared. nothing’s wrong with that.”

“i’m not scared.” you say seriously, holding his gaze.

“fine, let’s say you’re not. but in the very hypothetical case that you are,” he raises his eyebrows, “it’s still okay. we’ve been through a lot of shit. i’m scared too. we all are. don’t beat yourself up for trying to protect him.” he means dustin.

dustin. definitely a low blow. you feel your eyes fill with tears and swallow hard to stop them. “he doesn’t listen to me. what do i do if he doesn’t listen?”

“he does. he just wants to protect eddie, that’s why he’s being a little impulsive. but of course he listens to you. more than to anyone else, actually. you’re the only person in the world he actually listens to.” with his other hand, he wipes the tear that slips down your cheek. “we’re all in this together. you’re not alone. you never have been. and you don’t have to pretend you can handle everything, even though i know you can.”

“i’m so scared.” you finally admit it. “i don’t want anything to happen to him. i don’t want anything to happen to you.” you sob. “and i can’t control it. i don’t know how to fix it. he— he’s killing people with his mind, steve. he could literally grab you right now and snap every bone in your body and i— i couldn’t do anything.” you wipe your tears as they fall. it was already bad enough that he saw you like this, crying on top of it felt like too much.

“that’s not gonna happen,” he whispers.

“you don’t know that.” you challenge him with a look.

“i don’t. that’s why we need to find out everything we can. and we’ll do it together, like always. we’re gonna be okay, yeah?”

you nod softly. “okay. yeah, okay.” you let out a deep breath.

“come here.” steve pulls you in, wrapping his arms around you.

and for the first time since all of this started, you feel safe. like nothing could touch you as long as he’s holding you. you let yourself sink into the hug, hiding your face against his chest, and maybe, just maybe, you let a few more tears slip out.

steve pulls back slightly, breaking the hug. “i’ll get the others. open the car.”

you look at him, confused, wiping your tears. how were you supposed to open it?

like he reads your mind, he reaches into your right pocket and pulls out the car keys. “i gave them to you when we got here.” he smiles and tosses them to you before turning around to go get everyone else.

you catch them and let out a long sigh, which slowly turns into a small smile.

you were going to take his word for it. everything was going to be okay.

[hringtn]

introducing henderson!reader ─ steve harrington

⋆˚꩜｡── HENDERSON!READER WHO

⋆˚꩜｡── HENDERSON!READER WHO never wanted a little brother because she loved having both her parents’ attention, until dustin henderson showed up in 1971 and permanently ruined that plan (and her life, in the best way possible).

⋆˚꩜｡── HENDERSON!READER WHO goes to the cemetery every weekend to visit her dad’s grave after he died in a car accident in new york when she was 15. fun times.

⋆˚꩜｡── HENDERSON!READER WHO takes care of her mom constantly, since her mom drinks too much and is usually pretty unaware of what’s going on in hawkins — or even with her own son.

⋆˚꩜｡── HENDERSON!READER WHO has protected and defended dustin since the day he was born, trying to give him a better, more normal social childhood than the one she had, especially once he started school.

⋆˚꩜｡── HENDERSON!READER WHO hated school. hates it. the stupid social rules, the dumb schedules, and the absolute crime that is forcing her to take p.e. she hates how teenagers think they rule the world and treat anyone they see as “weak” like trash. and she hates it even more because she’s terrified of what school might do to her brother.

⋆˚꩜｡── HENDERSON!READER WHO, despite all that, loves physics class with mr. clark and was always there to help him. shocker.

⋆˚꩜｡── HENDERSON!READER WHO adores david bowie and never, ever leaves the house without a cassette of her favorite album.

⋆˚꩜｡── HENDERSON!READER WHO says, “never go anywhere without bowie.”

⋆˚꩜｡── HENDERSON!READER WHO didn’t have many friends growing up because she’s bad at keeping bonds and doesn’t really believe school friendships are real — even if she actually got along with plenty of people.

⋆˚꩜｡── HENDERSON!READER WHO is terrible with physical contact and showing affection, unless it’s through taking care of people and being there when they need her.

⋆˚꩜｡── HENDERSON!READER WHO had no choice but to figure out what the hell dustin was doing in ’83 when she discovered everything about the upside down, and swore to protect dustin and his friends even if it cost her her life (obviously, that promise stayed in her head. saying it out loud would be embarrassing).

⋆˚꩜｡── HENDERSON!READER WHO didn’t know much beyond steve “the king” harrington until she ended up hunting demodogs with him and dustin — and realized he wasn’t actually that bad.

⋆˚꩜｡── HENDERSON!READER WHO decided to go study physics at nyu after graduating, so she only comes back to hawkins during summers and breaks.

⋆˚꩜｡── HENDERSON!READER WHO immediately clicked with robin buckley when she met her at scoops ahoy, after dustin basically forced her to go.

⋆˚꩜｡── HENDERSON!READER WHO, even if she never says it out loud, is absolutely terrified every time the upside down and its bullshit shows up, scared that something will happen to the people she loves.

⋆˚꩜｡── HENDERSON!READER WHO steve makes feel things she’s never felt before.

⋆˚꩜｡── HENDERSON!READER WHO fell in love with the boy with the incredible hair.

⋆˚꩜｡── FILES

age: same as steve’s, s1- 16-17, s5 - 21-22

personality: someone who learned to grow up fast, even when she didn’t want to. she’s sarcastic by nature, using dry humor and sharp remarks as a shield, but also as an honest way of seeing the world. she’s brave and strong, not because she isn’t afraid, but because she acts despite the fear, especially when the safety of the people she loves is on the line.

she is deeply loyal. once someone makes it into her circle, there’s no going back: she defends them, takes care of them, and stays, even when leaving would be easier. she will do whatever it takes to protect her loved ones, even if that means putting herself in danger or carrying more weight than she should. more often than not, she’d rather get hurt herself than let anything happen to them.

even if it doesn’t seem like it at first, she has a soft heart. she struggles with physical affection and with expressing love openly, but she shows it by being present, solving problems, and holding people together when everything falls apart. the way she loves is quiet, steady, and deep.

she loves music, not just as a hobby, but as a refuge. music follows her everywhere, grounds her, and gives her a sense of identity; it’s one of the few things that always makes her feel at home. beneath the sarcasm, strength, and unbreakable loyalty, she is someone who feels deeply and loves with everything she is.

a/n: i’m not sure if ill make a introducing steve and introducing the couple, but i need you to know that this is definitely an slow burn, in my mind they got like actually together in the end of s4, so basically everything that ill post will be like little moments that they had, but i won’t do it in chronological order.

[hringtn]

what is it with the hendersons? — steve harrington

pairings: steve harrington x fem!henderson!reader

summary: with eddie munson in hiding and hawkins spiraling, dustin starts acting strangely protective and very jealous about you and steve. because sometimes the real conflict isn’t the monsters, it’s a jealous little brother.

warnings: drugs mentioned, situation ship final boss, not proofread!

wc: 2.2k

a/n: you can read this on its own, but if you want a bit of context, you can check out here. english isn’t my first language so let me know any mistakes!

my steve harrington masterlist!/ part two? kind of

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

hawkins was a mess. again.

if you’re wondering, chasing your brother’s drug-dealer friend was not a smart decision, especially considering the police and literally the rest of hawkins were after him for the alleged murder of chrissy cunningham. but your brother is stubborn, so he dragged everyone along.

after finding the address of some super random, middle-of-nowhere house at steve and robin’s job, you all came to the conclusion that eddie was probably hiding there. and, unsurprisingly, dustin absolutely forced everyone to come.

“okay, well that’s settled. i guess he’s not here.” steve says after dustin rings the doorbell about a thousand times.

“eddie! it’s dustin!” your brother yells like he’s expecting an answer. “look, we just wanna talk, okay? no cops, i swear, we just wanna help.” dustin keeps banging on the door like a maniac.

“great, yeah. make sure everyone knows you’re here. maybe give them our names while you’re at it, idiot.” you lightly smack the back of his neck. “he’s clearly not there, okay?” there was no way the police were taking you in over this stupidity.

“hey, guys?” max calls out, pointing at a small shed next to the house.

“are we supposed to go in there?” you say, incredulous. how do you always end up in situations like this?

and you did. of course you went in.

“hello? is anyone home?” robin slowly opens the shed door and everyone follows her inside.

“what a dump,” steve says, looking around.

“obviously. it’s a shed.” you say, deadpan, watching him turn off his flashlight and grab a wooden oar. “steve, what are you doing?” you ask, confused.

“he might be in here.” he starts hitting some bags with his new weapon.

“then take the tarp off.” your brother next to you looks seriously alarmed.

“if you’re so brave, you take the tarp off.” steve shoots back.

god, what is this? are they in first grade?

“no one is taking anything off.” you scold them. “give me that.” you snatch the oar from steve.

“no, wait!” he tries to grab it back. “i need that, okay?”

“what could you possibly need an oar for?” you try to pull it away from him. at this point, you’d probably use it on him yourself.

“considering the fact that everyone in this room has nearly died a hundred times, personally, i don’t find it funny in the slightest—” he doesn’t even get to finish.

someone bursts out from under the tarp, jumping steve and slamming into him, sending you falling backward. “whoa!” dustin starts yelling like crazy.

“wait, wait, wait!” steve tries to reason with who is apparently eddie, but (as always, steve has zero survival instinct) he gets slammed against the wall, eddie threatening to slit his throat with a broken bottle.

“whoa, whoa, whoa, eddie, no!” dustin yells as you slowly get up from the floor. “it’s me. it’s dustin. this is steve. he’s not gonna hurt you, right, steve?”

“i will.” you aim your revolver firmly at eddie, the same revolver you’d kept in your car since ’83, when you found out there were monsters under hawkins.

“hey, no! wait!” dustin yells at you.

please. you weren’t actually going to shoot anyone. you weren’t even sure it was loaded. of course, eddie didn’t know that.

“drop it. now.” you stay firm. there was no way eddie munson was about to shove a bottle into steve’s jugular, right? …right?

“what are you doing here?” eddie looks like he’s shaking, and honestly you don’t know why. fear? adrenaline? oh my god, what if he’s high?

“we were looking for you.” dustin tells him, extending his hands toward eddie like that’ll calm him down. “we’re here to help,” robin finishes.

“eddie, we’re on your side.” wow, dustin. that definitely helps.

“and we definitely won’t be if you stab him with that, okay?” you step even closer. “drop it. i’m not asking.” you make yourself clear.

eddie stares at steve. or the broken bottle in his hand. who knows. but he lets it go.

which finally lets you put your gun away.

“jesus christ—” you hear robin say, like she can finally breathe again.

“you okay?” you walk up to steve slowly and rest a hand on his shoulder.

“yeah, yeah. i’ve been worse.” he says, touching his neck. “have you ever pointed a gun at someone?” he asks, a small smile on his face.

“god, no! i didn’t even know if it was loaded, i was about to panic!” you whisper harshly, teeth clenched.

“you did great. thanks.” he says, genuinely.

“yeah, sure.” maybe you stared at him a little too long, because suddenly you felt that pull again, like a wave calling you in, like at any second it could just grab you and drown you. so you broke eye contact. focus. there was a deeply traumatized guy talking to your brother right now.

after eddie explained everything he’d seen, and after you all explained that yes, he wasn’t crazy and yes, that kind of thing absolutely happened in hawkins, you promised you’d come back the next day with a plan to get him out of this. or at least try. optimism, right?

“i can’t believe eddie the freak munson threatened you with a bottle.” max laughs as you all get into the van to leave.

“don’t call him that.” dustin says it automatically, like muscle memory. he’s probably defended eddie so many times he doesn’t even think about it anymore. max doesn’t reply.

“let’s add that to the list of messed-up things that happen to me when i get involved in this stuff.” steve says, putting the van in reverse. to be fair, steve was a pretty good driver. if anyone asked.

“i can’t believe you did that!” robin says excitedly. “it was amazing. for a second i thought you were actually gonna shoot him.” she practically bounces in her seat behind you.

“i didn’t even know if it was loaded.” you laugh softly while buckling your seatbelt in the passenger seat.

“and? that doesn’t make it any less iconic! also, it was eddie munson! on what planet would i ever see you interacting with him?” robin is fully obsessed with the idea. she loves when worlds collide, like when she almost lost her mind watching e.t. and the alien recognized yoda from the star wars universe.

“i’ve talked to him before.” you say.

“what? when?” robin sounds genuinely shocked.

“yeah, when?” apparently this is news to dustin too.

“in high school. at the homecoming dance.” you definitely know where this is going.

“yeah, eddie offered her drugs.” steve continues the story, conveniently leaving out the part where you admitted you actually tried some.

“why do you know this?” dustin asks steve, offended. “why does he know this?” now he turns to you.

“why are you making such a big deal out of it? who cares? i told him.” you roll your eyes. this was not that serious.

“you told him?” his face is pure drama. “you told him?” like you just said the funniest joke he’s ever heard.

“god, dustin, what is wrong with you? it doesn’t matter!” max snaps, annoyed enough to pull her headband headphones off.

“it’s not that deep, man.” steve tries to calm things down.

“you shut up, no one’s talking to you.” dustin rolls his eyes. “yes, it is deep. why does he know and i don’t? i’m supposed to know this stuff, especially if it involves eddie! especially because i’m your brother!” he points at you.

“i’m gonna ignore you, okay? okay.” you roll your eyes and turn to stare out the window. there was no way you were about to fight over this nonsense. nothing dustin was saying made any sense.

dustin lets out a sarcastic laugh. “oh, so there’s definitely something going on between you two, right? now steve knows all these things about your life, huh? unbelievable!”

okay. maybe there was a way you’d fight.

“how do those things even connect!?” yeah, now you were mad.

“because he knows things i don’t!” dustin snaps back.

“what the hell is wrong with you!?” you turn fully toward him, ready to go.

the thing is, you two were way too similar. you know, both physics nerds, both obsessed with chocolate pudding, both reading an unhealthy number of books per week. but the problem was… you were too similar. including the endless stubbornness and the absolute refusal to ever lose. like, ever.

which is probably why this argument had already been going on for five minutes. and counting.

“hey, guys, stop.” you hear steve say, pretty far off, completely irrelevant to your fight.

“i just don’t get why you’d even talk about that! there’s nothing there! you don’t know anything!” you yell, furious.

“guys, hey! stop!” steve’s voice gets closer.

“well apparently i don’t know a lot of things, huh?” dustin laughs sarcastically.

“are you even listening to yourself!?” you shout.

“guys! shut the fuck up!” okay, now he yelled. that finally snaps you and dustin out of your argument bubble. “what is wrong with you two? seriously!” he scolds both of you. and somehow, yeah, you do feel scolded. like when your mom used to take away your dolls because you wouldn’t come down for dinner.

“whatever.” you and your brother say at the same time, crossing your arms and sinking back into your seats.

“see what you caused, steve?” robin rolls her eyes.

“w- what?” steve looks at her through the rearview mirror, genuinely confused.

after dropping robin and max off at their houses, you finally pull up to yours. hunting down missing people was way more exhausting than anyone would think.

“see you later, man.” steve turns to say goodbye to dustin, but dustin gets out and slams the door without even looking at him.

“god, what’s his problem?” steve whispers, rolling his eyes.

you just sigh. “i— i’m sorry, okay?” you close your eyes and sink into the seat. even then, you can feel him looking at you.

“it’s fine, don’t worry about it. it’s adolescence, you know how they get.” he brushes it off easily.

you let out a small laugh. “not for that. for the… you know, the fight.” honestly, you feel a little embarrassed.

“oh, that? don’t worry about it either, okay? it doesn’t matter.” and once again, with a smile, he makes it seem like nothing.

he always does that. you never really understood it. how nothing ever seemed like a problem to him. how he lived so calmly. like he had infinite patience.

“listen… i think lately… i don’t know, he’s kind of jealous?” you try to explain.

“jealous?” he scoffs, like the idea is impossible.

“he’s my only brother. i’ve basically only ever had eyes for him my whole life, because it’s not like i’ve had a lot of friends. especially not guy friends. and you know… you and i got kind of… close these past few years. i think he’s scared you’ll replace him or something.” you explain what you think is going on.

and again, he looks understanding. always understanding. “like anyone could ever do that.” he smiles at you.

“i know…” you smile back. “but i don’t think he sees it that way.”

he looks out the window, a small smile forming, then turns back to you. “you and i got close?”

“shut up. seriously, shut up.” you roll your eyes while laughing. and for a moment, you share a few laughs.

“listen, i’ll fix it, okay?” he says, looking at you with confidence.

you look at him, confused. “fix… what exactly?”

“the dustin thing. i’ll handle it, don’t worry.” he rests his hand on your thigh and gives it a small squeeze, reassuring.

and all you can do is stare at him. his soft, brown, puppy-like eyes. the confidence behind them. how you’ve never felt alone since he walked into your life. everything his eyes seem to promise. and damn, what a promise.

you honestly had no idea what this thing between you and steve even was. it’s not like you’d kissed or confessed your love or anything dramatic like that. but there was something there. something you both knew about. something so delicate and precious that neither of you dared to touch it. maybe out of fear. maybe out of hope. either way, it stayed untouched. right there.

untouched sounds beautiful. even if it means living with uncertainty.

“thanks.” you finally say.

“no, thank you. you know, for saving my life.” he smiles.

“i don’t think he would’ve actually hurt you.” you laugh.

his hand still hasn’t left your leg. “you never know. thank god you were there with your deadly weapon.”

“alright, harrington, stop making fun of me.” you roll your eyes.

“i’m not!” yeah. he totally was.

you look at him, a little dazed, for a couple more seconds. “good night.” you lean in and give him a quick kiss on the cheek. “thanks again.” then you get out of the car fast enough that he doesn’t even get the chance to form a sentence. exactly like dustin did earlier.

steve just sighs, a strange tingle lingering on his cheek.

damn it. what is it with the hendersons?

[hringtn]

get a man who can do both !!!

[hringtn]

why would she give a damn about me? — steve harrington

pairings: steve harrington x fem!henderson!reader

synopsis: you always thought steve harrington never noticed you. steve thought the exact same thing about you. after being drugged by the russians, now on the bathroom floor, a lot of badly timed confessions prove you were both wrong.

wc: 1.8k

a/n: english isn’t my first language so let me know any mistakes!

my steve harrington masterlist!

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

never in your life had you thought throwing up this much was even humanly possible. until today, obviously.

this whole dumb idea of spying on russians through your brother’s best friend’s job went straight to hell. you weren’t even supposed to be here. after last year — all the bullshit demogorgon-hunting with your brother and (yes, believe it or not) steve, yeah, steve “the hair” harrington. you decided leaving hawkins to study somewhere else was a brilliant life choice, and it was, at least until you came back for the summer and everything immediately went to shit.

like, seriously, what were you even doing in the scoops ahoy bathroom, throwing up all over next to steve harrington’s toilet? you were never friends. not even close. back in high school he was “steve the king harrington,” way too popular to even acknowledge your existence, and not like you ever wanted to walk past him in the hallway.

oh, you hated all of that. you kept to yourself, maybe one or two friends at most, and god, you despised high school, so yeah, your paths were not meant to cross. ever.

until last year, when your brother dustin dragged you into a lovely little adventure involving demogorgons and upside down nonsense — featuring steve. which, honestly, wasn’t that terrible. turns out steve wasn’t as much of an asshole as you’d always assumed. but still, not your problem. so you got the hell out of hawkins.

and now here you are. back again. sprawled on a bathroom floor after puking up every last drop of whatever weird russian drug they pumped into your system.

yeah. great summer so far.

—do you think we’re still high?— you asked steve through the thin bathroom walls.

—no idea, i feel fine, relatively speaking,— he answered from the other side.

—let’s play questions,— you said. yeah, maybe you were still high.

—sure, want me to start?— he replied, voice soft. it always was. you just hummed.

—okay,— he made a little thinking noise. —had you ever gotten high before?—

oh. great opener.

—once.— you hesitated, debating whether to explain. not because it mattered, but why would you casually tell steve harrington your life story? —you?— you shot back.

—not exactly. just smoking. tommy used to bring weed to the parties at my house.— he said it like it was nothing, which somehow made you feel mildly obligated to share too. not that you really minded.

—do you remember eddie munson?— you asked.

—eddie the freak munson?— he sounded genuinely confused. if you could see him, he’d definitely have that dumb little face he makes when he’s processing something.

—yeah. that one.— you let out a slightly laugh.

suddenly, steve appeared through the small gap between the bathroom stalls and sat down across from you, your legs ending up next to him and his next to you.

—so you got high with eddie munson?—

yep. exactly the confused face you imagined. just… a little amused this time.

— it was just once. outside the homecoming dance. i don’t think it even counts- it was half a line and it didn’t even hit me,— you smiled at the memory.

— why did you do it?— he asked softly. there was a small smile on his face, which honestly felt unnecessary considering said face was bruised and bloody thanks to russian torture.

— it was, like, the worst day of my life.— your eyes drifted to the wall in front of you. —some girl spilled the entire punch bowl on my dress and everyone laughed.— you smiled, bittersweet. —i swear, any other day i wouldn’t have cared. i would’ve gotten mad and told everyone to fuck off,— you rolled your eyes. —but that day i was so… excited. my dad had bought the dress on his trip to new york and i- shit, i felt beautiful. and then suddenly everything was ruined, half the school pointing at me and laughing, and out of nowhere i was the most horrible person to ever step foot in hawkins.—

he just stared at you. attentive. slightly shocked that you’d decided to tell him something like that.

— it was nancy, right? the one who spilled the punch.— he asked carefully, like he was scared something might set you off.

oh, nancy. nancy bitchy spoiled princess wheeler.

well, now she was just nancy spoiled princess wheeler.

you used to hate her. a lot. you were never even remotely alike. your brother and her brother had been friends since they were kids, so every now and then you’d end up stuck at the same dinner or gathering, and it never — ever — went well.

maybe because she was spoiled.

maybe because you were unbearable.

who knows, it just never worked, especially once you got to high school, at least there you never interacted. until that stupid dance where she kind of ruined your life. okay, not really, but at that age it definitely felt like it.

now, after hunting a couple monsters with her, you’d realized she’d matured a lot. and you probably had too. so it wasn’t an issue anymore. honestly, you even thought it was pretty cool how good she was with a gun.

but friends? yeah, no. that was never gonna happen. there was just zero chemistry between you two.

you sighed and smiled. —yeah, it was her. i don’t blame her completely, there was a lot of social pressure, you know? even if i would’ve never done something like that.— you shrugged. —whatever, it doesn’t matter.—

—it does,— he looked at you, worried. —it wasn’t okay.—

—of course it wasn’t. but still, whatever. i ran out of there and sat on this bench outside the school, and eddie just… showed up. told me those dances were bullshit and asked if i wanted to forget about it by getting high.— you frowned, remembering the stupid decision. —i know it was dumb. don’t take drugs from strangers and all that. but i was so… sad.— remembering it felt like reliving it all over again.

—and then i ran off and…— a wave of memories hit you and you looked at him, genuinely confused. —steve, you were there! after i ran, you showed up with your car and offered to drive me home.— maybe half the line actually did hit.

steve’s expression shifted into something weird, unreadable. —i- yeah. i did. and then you told me to fuck off and kept walking.—

—well, obviously. why would i accept a ride home from steve harrington?— you said, like it was the most logical thing in the world.

—why would you accept drugs from eddie munson? sounds just as stupid,— he laughed.

—i don’t know. i was defensive, okay? you were part of the social group i literally ran away from in the first place. i probably thought you were gonna mess with me too.— you rolled your eyes.

—i wasn’t even there when that happened to you.— he sounded… sad?

—i know.— that was all you said.

suddenly, silence filled the space between you. just a few seconds. seconds that somehow felt endless.

—what were you even doing outside anyway? sent to get beers?— you laughed, trying to lighten the mood.

steve laughed too. —yeah. i went to get beers.—

and then the silence showed up again.

—no. i didn’t go get beers,— he sighed. —i just went out to look for you. i saw you run out so scared and i- i just wanted to make sure nothing happened to you.—

you looked at him, completely confused. —don’t make stuff up,— you laughed.

—i’m not,— he wasn’t laughing. —you’ve always been there, you know? my whole life. we shared physics, spanish, p.e. i always saw you in the hallways, walking alone in front of me and all my idiot friends. i remember once you called tommy’s girlfriend a bitch because she tripped a freshman.— this time he laughed, and you did too.

—why didn’t you give me a flyer?— he looked at you, genuinely.

you smiled, confused. what was he even talking about? —a what?—

—a flyer. senior year. you did that physics campaign with mr. clarke and handed them out. you gave one to everyone in the hallways except me. you skipped me. i never got a flyer.—

you laughed. —steve, what are you talking about? okay, yeah, i remember, but i didn’t give one to you or your friends. i just assumed you didn’t give a shit about physics.—

—and i didn’t. but damn, i really wanted you to give me one,— he sighed. —listen… my whole life i wanted your attention. i never really knew why. there was just something about you that pulled me in. but you never saw me.—

—steve, you never talked to me. not once,— you said, incredulous.

—the one time i tried, you told me to fuck off and ran away.—

—i was high,— you defended yourself.

—that’s not true,— he laughed. —last year… i didn’t plan on sticking around with dustin that long on that stupid hunt for those weird creatures.—

—demodogs,— you laughed, correcting him.

—demodogs, right,— he rolled his eyes with a smile. —but… you were there. so i stayed. and honestly? i don’t regret it.—

—i really like your hair,— you confessed. —i’m always telling you it looks bad and that you’re a cocky idiot but… i really like it. i really do.—

he smiled at you. a real smile.

you took a deep breath. a big one. you were gonna need it. —i treat you like shit because you make me nervous. like, really nervous. and i… i don’t know, i’ve never felt like this before and i don’t know how to deal with it, so telling you to fuck off is way easier. it lets me avoid the feeling.—

steve tried to say something, but you cut him off. suddenly it felt like you needed to throw up everything you were feeling. —i wasn’t even that sure about going away to study! i thought if i stayed away from you for a few months i’d forget about you, but i didn’t. and you… well, you still make me nervous and- seriously, i really like your hair.— you sighed.

steve laughed. —i don’t care if you tell me to fuck off.—

—good. because i’m gonna keep doing it,— you laughed with him.

—i’m really glad we’re here,— he said.

—here? on the bathroom floor at your job? post-drugged and post-torture?—

—yeah… exactly like this.—

—yeah. me too.—

both of you started laughing. god knows why. maybe the drugs hadn’t fully worn off. maybe it was the bleach on the bathroom floor. maybe it was all the remembering. or maybe it just felt right.

the bathroom door slammed open and both of you looked up.

your brother and erica stormed in and stopped right in front of you. —okay, what the hell?— oh, he was pissed.

you and steve looked at them. then at each other.

and your laughter filled the bathroom all over again.