★ ◞ — HOW TO GET THE GIRL .ᐟ loser!steve x popular!reader
summary: steve has been obsessed with you since basically kindergarten. one day he finally gets the courage to ask you out. but, not without some advice from his trusty best friend dustin!
cw .ᐟ fluff, fluff, fluff.
tags: @dopeysunflowers @strawbelly32 @essentiallie @mzwheeler @starsturniolos13 @angelicp0etry @arcticwisteria @leysol @sicknstarved @expressiveduck @kateseesgraves @megsavengersslut @onlinegutz @aerissblog @xxhospital-for-soulsxx @mikespreciious @maryjaneeeee @stcrbay @fals3-g0d @pleasingregulus @stqrdxst-xx @sisterslytherinog @frodofreakingbaggins @sh1mmers @sturnslucky
꒰ luvchall’s notes : ugh i love writing steve so muchh !! i need to way more often :) sorry this is long !
the bell above the scoops ahoy door jingles for the fiftieth time that hour and you’re not even there, but somehow you’re still all steve can think about.
“you’re staring at nothing again,” robin says flatly, shoving past him with a tub of mint chocolate chip. “it’s creepy.”
steve blinks. “i’m not staring at nothing.”
“you’re staring at the napkin dispenser.”
robin stops. slowly turns. “how.”
“she used to wipe our faces with napkins when we were kids. like aggressively. like she was trying to sandblast the dirt off.”
robin just stares at him. “you’re in love.”
“i am not in love,” steve hisses, voice cracking slightly. “i just— i just think hopper’s daughter is—”
“—out of your league?” robin offers sweetly.
“i was going to say cool.”
before steve can throw a spoon at her, the back door slams open.
“steve!” dustin’s voice echoes through the tiny shop like a foghorn. “code red!”
“why are you yelling?” steve groans. “there are customers.”
“there are like three twelve-year-olds and they’re all watching me,” dustin says proudly. “i have an audience.”
robin mutters, “i’m clocking out emotionally.”
dustin hops up on the counter like he owns the place. “what’s the crisis?”
steve leans in, lowering his voice dramatically. “i need your help.”
“oh my god,” robin says. “this is about her, isn’t it?”
“don’t say her like that.”
dustin squints between them. “…wait. are we talking about y/n?”
robin gasps dramatically. “he admits it.”
“i didn’t admit anything!” he scoffs.
dustin’s eyes go wide. “oh. oh no.”
“what do you mean oh no?”
“steve,” dustin says slowly, “that’s hopper’s daughter.”
“i’m aware,” steve snaps. “i’ve been aware since she used to boss you around in your own basement.”
“she didn’t boss me around,” dustin argues. “she led.”
“she told you to go to bed at nine.”
steve runs a hand through his hair, sailor hat slightly crooked. “okay. okay. listen. she’s not babysitting you guys anymore. she’s like— popular now.”
“she’s always been popular,” dustin says.
“yeah, but now she’s like— mall popular. she hangs out by the fountain. she wears those… those shoes.”
“what shoes,” robin deadpans.
“you are so descriptive,” robin says.
steve ignores her. “she smiles at me sometimes.”
“she smiles at everyone,” dustin says.
“no, this is different,” steve insists. “it’s like— softer.”
robin makes a gagging noise.
“i need to ask her out,” steve blurts. “and i need it to be good. like really good. not lame.”
dustin crosses his arms, looking way too serious. “first of all, you can’t just ask her out at scoops ahoy.”
“because you’re wearing that,” dustin gestures at his uniform. “you look like you work on a boat that sells ice cream.”
“second of all,” dustin continues, “you need a grand gesture.”
steve nods slowly. “okay. i can do flowers.”
“you panic and say weird things when you’re nervous,” robin reminds him. “last week you told a woman her eyebrows looked symmetrical.”
“she thought you were threatening her.”
dustin hops off the counter. “okay. here’s the plan. you go home. you shower. you don’t wear the sailor outfit. you get flowers. and you go to her house.”
steve’s stomach drops. “her house.”
“yes, steve. the building where she lives.”
“hopper lives there,” steve whispers like it’s a horror movie monster.
“are you scared of hopper?” dustin asks, delighted.
robin and dustin stare at him.
“he will absolutely murder you if you hurt her,” dustin says cheerfully.
“i’m not going to hurt her!”
steve exhales shakily. “okay. okay. flowers. speech. no sailor hat.”
“burn the sailor hat,” robin adds.
later that night, you’re in your room, music playing low from your radio, flipping through a magazine. your dad’s truck is in the driveway. you’re in pajamas. you are absolutely not expecting a knock on the front door at 9:47 p.m.
hopper’s voice echoes from the living room. “you expecting someone?”
“i’ll get it,” hopper mutters.
you hear the door creak open.
your heart drops straight to your stomach. you sit up immediately.
“uh,” steve’s voice floats in, nervous and higher than usual. “hi, chief.”
you rush to your bedroom door, peeking down the hallway. steve is standing there on your porch, holding a slightly lopsided bouquet of flowers. he’s wearing a clean button-down, hair perfectly styled. he looks like he’s about to either confess his love or throw up.
hopper eyes the flowers. “what’s that.”
“they’re for—” steve swallows. “y/n.”
hopper narrows his eyes. “why.”
you decide to save him before he actually dies. “dad,” you call, walking into view. “hi.”
steve’s eyes find you immediately and his entire face softens. “hey,” he breathes.
hopper looks between you both. “…five minutes. door stays open.”
he walks back inside, grumbling.
you step onto the porch, closing the screen door behind you but leaving it cracked.
steve just stands there for a second. “…hi,” he says again.
“these are for you.” he shoves the flowers toward you so fast a petal falls off.
you laugh softly. “they’re pretty.”
“yeah? good. i asked the lady what popular girls like.”
“she said daisies are safe. i don’t know what that means.”
you take them gently. your fingers brush his and he visibly short-circuits.
“so,” you tease, “did dustin put you up to this?”
steve’s eyes widen. “how did you—”
steve groans, dragging a hand down his face. “okay. yes. i may have asked him for advice.”
he looks at you like that’s the dumbest question in the world. “because you used to babysit them. you’re like— intimidating.”
you laugh. “intimidating?”
“yeah. you used to make them clean up before d&d.”
“that was basic hygiene, steve.”
you step a little closer. “so you’re scared of me?”
“no,” he says immediately. then softer, “just… nervous.”
steve takes a breath. “because i really like you.”
“like, not just ‘you’re hopper’s cool daughter’ like,” he rambles, hands moving as he talks. “like i think you’re funny and you care about everyone and you always stuck up for the kids and you— you don’t treat me like i’m an idiot.”
you’re smiling so hard your cheeks hurt.
“and i was wondering,” he continues, voice shaky now, “if maybe you’d want to go out with me. like. on a date. not a weird date. a normal one. i’ll pay. obviously. i have a job. you know that. you’ve been to scoops. please don’t make this worse.”
you giggle, he squeezes his eyes shut. “oh my god i’m ruining it.”
“i’d love to go out with you.”
he freezes. “wait. really?”
he beams. full sunshine smile. “oh thank god,” he laughs. “i had a backup speech about your hair and it was bad.”
“i kind of want to hear it.”
you lean in slightly. “you’re cute when you’re nervous.”
he blinks. “…you think i’m cute?”
“right. right. cool. yeah. cool.”
from inside the house, hopper shouts, “two minutes!”
you laugh. “guess we should plan this before my dad comes out with a shotgun.”
“…dinner tomorrow?” he asks quickly.
“seven. yes. perfect. i’ll— i’ll knock. not like aggressively. just normal knocking.”
“normal knocking is good.”
he hesitates. “can i—” he awkwardly opens his arms. you step into him without answering. he wraps his arms around you carefully at first, then tighter when you hug back. he smells like shampoo and a little bit like waffle cones.
“okay,” he whispers, smiling into your hair. “this is already the best decision i’ve ever made.”
“better than your hair routine?”
you pull back, laughing. “see you tomorrow, harrington.”
he backs down the steps, nearly tripping but catching himself. “seven!” he calls quietly.
you hold the flowers to your chest, watching him walk to his car with the biggest, dorkiest grin on his face.
from inside, hopper appears at the doorway.“…this may be the craziest thing i’ve ever said but, i like him,” he mutters reluctantly.
you smile to yourself. “yeah,” you say softly. “me too.”
