pairing. steve harrington x fem!reader
summary. thanks to your new summer job, you've learned that steve harrington isn't as bad as you remember. he might even be cooler than you thought. if only he felt the same way about you. (10.2K)
before you read. angst with happy ending, coworkers to friends to lovers, slow burn, au–no upside down, steve is a dumbass, no use of y/n, no physical descriptions for reader, r is implied to be neurodivergent but it's the 80's so
author’s note. always some unrequited feelings bullshit w me. i just rewatched s3 steve and just had to write something abt him. this is kind of all over the place... to my fellow nd women: i love u all!
Something about you was strange, but you weren't sure what. You were the same as anyone else, a speck of dust on Earth, a blurry face crossing the street, working and eating and laughing and talking the way everyone does. And yet, it seemed to be the defining trait, and the sign taped to your back.
Sometimes it was a compliment, laughed by children who find you hilarious. Sometimes it was a weapon, laughed in your face by peers who you didn’t fit in with for reasons you couldn’t identify. Was it your hair, styled slightly out of trend? Or the way you dressed, in outfits which would never be found in a JC Penny catalog? Perhaps it was something less than physical; the way you spoke, words flowing out too quick or too slow, the shifty bounce of your knee and constantly tapping fingers.
To be different may be the shortest straw you had drawn in life. Your friends adored you for your silliness; among them, you were known and valued. Freshly out of high school, you now worried the weirdness could be more than just social ostracization. Maybe it could affect your employment in the future.
You imagined yourself sitting at an interview, dressed in your business best with a pencil skirt and heels, being looked at up and down by a man in a suit. He said nothing, but could see past your profession facade, and thinks what everyone else has thought: not you.
Ned gave you the benefit of the doubt, and one week after your interview, you showed up to Scoops Ahoy adorned in sailor garb for your first day of work. There hadn’t been any instructions on where to report to, leaving you to stand awkwardly in line with the customers. It shuffled forward slowly, and you began to worry about not clocking in on time. When it was your turn to approach the counter, you came face-to-face with someone you least expected.
Steve Harrington was standing behind the register in similar nautical wear, with a white hat sitting crookedly atop his gravity-defying hair. It seemed in school that he was a magnet: people orbited him as though he were the Poles, plucked from their places at metal lockers to surround him. He was the Sun above the pyramid of high school royalty. Now, lit by the bright, lifeless glow of fluorescence, Steve looked more like a fallen star. He looked at you first with eyes half-lidded in boredom, before his brows snapped together.
“You’re the new girl?”
“I suppose so, yes,” you replied.
“What the hell? You were supposed to be here five minutes ago and we had a call-off,” his foot had begun to tap against the ground, you could hear in the tap tap tap on linoleum. A sign of impatience and frustration.
“I’m sorry, I was waiting in line.”
Now his squinted eyes widened in surprise, and you could see that his lashes were quite long for a man. He’d held a reputation for being handsome in school, but you felt that it was an inaccurate description. Steve wasn’t handsome, he was pretty.
“Yeah, I can see that. Why didn’t you just come to the back? I assume that you can at least scoop ice cream; you could’ve helped me out there.”
Now you were the one who was surprised. “Oh, I didn’t know that I could do that. Ned didn’t tell me what to…”
“And where’s your hat? It’s company policy,” he interrupted.
The rest of the day seemed to be you endlessly annoying Steve for things not knowing things that you couldn’t possibly know. According to him, you didn’t stick to the scripted greeting, and spent too long trying to scoop the ice cream into neat towers. He kept scolding you for calling the flavors by their standard names rather than the Scoops names, and got confused by which was which in the freezer.
“I’m sorry Steve, I looked in the back to refill the Rocky Road like you asked, but I can’t find it.”
“I already told you it’s not Rocky Road, it’s called Rough Seas. Now hurry up! We got a line again.”
You’d never had a job that required you to use a cash register before, and you asked every customer whether or not they’d like their receipt after it printed. It added 15 seconds to each interaction, and seemed to be upsetting Steve, who had to keep reminding you that most people didn’t want their receipts, and not to ask about it. That would explain why the printer had a line of paper almost six-feet long coming out of it when you first came in.
When someone deposited 25 cents into the tip jar, you beamed at them. “Thank you, sailor! Fair winds and following seas!” you called.
This wasn’t something that you’d been instructed to say, but you figured that you should really hammer in the marine theme as much as possible.
Steve had only groaned, muttering to himself, “Why do I always get the weird ones?”
“Do you want to take your break now?” You asked once the chaos had died down.
He shook his head, taking the sailor hat off with one hand in casual defeat. “Who knows what’ll happen in the 15 minutes that I’m gone. The whole store could go under. You’re not ready to be left alone yet.”
The silence spread over the Scoops Ahoy like molasses, slow and thick. You feared that speaking would only annoy Steve more, but the words tumbled out before you could stop them.
“I’m sorry I’m not doing well, Steve. I can tell this job is important to you,” you settled, genuinely guilty to be burdening him.
His head snapped to you from where he had been gazing at the rest of the food court. “It’s not–it’s important to establish a good work ethic. Y’know, like if I start slacking off here, by the time I have a career I’ll be dead weight.”
“Sure, my dad tells me that all the time,” you replied. “What career would you like to have?”
Instead of responding, Steve stared down at the dark blue countertop, as if the answer resided there, somewhere deep in the grain of the particle board.
“Maybe you could be a professional athlete? You’re good at swimming. It could be your calling.”
The mop of hair raised slowly towards you. “What?”
Had you said something wrong? Maybe it wasn’t your place to give him life advice. “I… I don’t know. I’m sorry,” you frowned.
“How do you know that I’m a swimmer?” Steve asked, confusion clear in his face.
“They announced it in the morning once our junior year. ‘Swim team captain Steve Harrington plans to lead Hawkins High to victory at this weekend’s state conference. Go Tigers!’ I remember it because someone explained to me that it was unusual that the title went to you and not a senior.”
It was as though you had dropped a bomb, and Steve was watching the wreckage unfold with disbelief. Was it too much information? You had simply answered his question, but now began to doubt your answer. You went to apologize again, but he beat you to it.
“Sorry, I didn’t know that you went to school with me. I just… didn’t expect you to know that. Or remember it,” he said slowly.
“Oh, that’s alright. I don’t think we’ve ever spoken to each other until right now. You’re a little less intimidating than you were in school, so I’m not nervous,” you smiled.
He groaned, tossing his hat through the open partition and into the back room. “No kidding. I’m a fucking joke now. People take one look at me in this stupid costume and laugh. Even chicks who I know liked me in school don’t give me a chance.”
You hummed, thinking of a helpful response. “You could probably get another job, then.”
Steve huffed out a dry laugh. “Like it’s so easy to just get another job.”
“I suppose you’re right. I read in the paper the other day that unemployment rates across the state are the highest they’ve been since The Great Depression. About 13 percent, I believe. Something about the automobile industry, but I’m sure we all know about that,” you rambled.
He just stared at you, as though there was a puzzle in your face he could solve by looking for long enough. “You’ll like Robin; she’s working with you tomorrow. You’re both… quirky.”
Maybe your skin was tough from hearing it so often, or maybe it didn’t sound insulting coming from Steve. He’d used a different word than most people, and you didn’t mind being quirky. Steve didn’t seem to realize it, but you found him quite quirky yourself.
You’d heard that observing the actions of other people was a good way to learn. Thus, the first two weeks consisted of much standing around. This was the hump that many people had a hard time getting past, and the period that much turnover occurred at work. Determined to beat the statistics, you showed up to Scoops Ahoy each day, ready to be drained by your proletariat status. Not knowing what you should be doing at every moment meant that you spent lots of time standing stiffly next to Steve, waiting for instruction.
He was filling out a sheet of paper on a clipboard, and when you looked closer, it appeared to be an order form. Three cases of S.S Strawberry, four cases of U.S.S. Butterscotch, one of Blue Moon Marina. Ned was responsible for keeping inventory and ordering new stock, but it seemed all duty piled elsewhere. You could hear him smacking gum; it was against the rules at work, but he chewed it constantly.
Steve found you from the corner of his eye. “Can I help you?”
“I should be asking you that. Make myself useful and whatnot,” you replied.
He continued to scribble. “Don’t worry about it, it’s dead right now.”
You tapped your fingers rhythmically against the metal rail of the display case, cool against your skin. Thumb to pinky, pinky to thumb, back one way and forth the other. Steve hadn’t yelled at you for your hovering or tapping. There wasn’t any indication that he would be rude to you based on his behavior, and you felt bad expecting that from him. His friends had been less than kind to you in school; you simply assumed that he was the same.
“I know, but I feel bad if I’m not working as hard as I should. I want to be helpful,” you sighed.
Surely there was something in this entire parlor to do. Scrape gum from under tables, reorganize the toppings; you were being driven insane without a task to complete.
“You are helping. You’re keeping me company.”
He said it as if it was the easiest thing in the world, simple and clear. This was the task he assigned you to: just being around. Steve hadn’t even looked up when he said it, still marking inventory on his clipboard, yet you felt as though your heart would beat straight out of your chest. It could grow wings and fly straight through the ceiling for how fast it was going. It was the most kind thing anyone had said to you all day.
You refrained from responding, but smiled at his profile; maybe he could feel your joy from three feet away.
Routine was very good for you. Commute to work, clock in, check inventory, refill flavors that were one-third or more empty, wipe tabletops. Very easy stuff once you did it enough. Scoops wasn’t the most exciting job around, but you enjoyed having a place to be five days a week. That June was then marked as the most eventful month of your life.
Steve wasn’t meant to be part of that routine. He wasn’t supposed to be the whistling, foot-tapping, high-socked highlight of your day. And yet whenever you came into work and that familiar mess of waves wasn’t behind the counter, a bit of your joy died.
You liked your other coworkers, too. Gary was hardworking, Todd told funny stories, and Robin was the limb you didn’t know you were missing. Nothing should’ve been so special about Steve, and yet he was. He wasn’t even the nicest person that you worked with.
When you took too long to come back from a shift, he would rail on you about workplace integrity, even though he would also take extra time on his breaks. He complained endlessly about how dismal his love life was to you, which you found pathetic and only slightly interesting. If your friends swung by the store to say hello, he would tell you that you were stealing time, but Steve was the one who let kids run through the back hallways and get free scoops.
“Does Ned know that your children run amok in this mall?” You asked, leaning through the open window of the backroom.
He glared at you. “Is Robin the one who told you that? I don’t like it when she calls them my kids. I just know them from… town.”
“You mean Nancy Wheeler, right? That was her younger brother that just passed by.”
He raised a suspicious brow at you. “How do you know that?”
You shrugged. “I know that you dated Nancy, or I mean, everyone knows that, and I recognize her brother from being in class with my cousin. So I assume, I don’t know. That your whirlwind romance with her meant that you became acquainted with her brother and his… circle. Of children.”
“God, you talk so much,” he sighed. “It wasn’t a whirlwind romance, okay? I was really serious about her.”
You nodded solemnly. “Sure, I know how that goes.” You didn’t. “Lots of other fish in the sea, if that’s what you want. But I read in Seventeen that after a relationship, you emerge a different person, and it’s important to rediscover yourself.”
He shook his head, and leaned into the window with you. “I’m rediscovered already, and I don’t need another relationship. But it would be nice if I could land a goddamn date.” This close up, you could see the small moles dotting the column of his throat. Soft tufts of dark hair peeked out from the collar of his shirt. Your mouth felt dry. Had he always looked like that?
“Don’t tell anyone I said that. Robin has seen me fumble enough times here; she doesn’t need more ammo.”
“Gasp. Don’t worry, Steve Harrington. My lips are sealed,” you flourished with a zipping of your lips, then flicked away the invisible key.
He only rolled his eyes at you, and opened his mouth for another remark, before you cut him off. A pretty girl with a high, permed ponytail had come into the parlor. “Oh God, there she is now. Your future wife. She’s walking up. Hurry, do something.”
Steve’s head swiveled quickly to the front. He turned back to you, a determined sparkle in his eyes. “Alright, wish me luck.”
You graced him with a thumbs-up, and watched as he swaggered to the cash register. Steve was a good guy, he deserved to be freed from his dry spell. Yet watching him lean closer to the girl while she gave him a tight smile made your stomach sink, and you weren’t sure why.
Steve became a part of your Summer that you looked forward to, like running through sprinklers, biting into popsicles, sunbathing in soft grass. When he wasn’t on your shift, it was as if the roof had gone missing, or all of the lights went out. Something was missing from Scoops, and from eight hours of your life. That was not a good thing.
You knew what this meant: you had a heartstopping, ice cream melting crush on Steve Harrington.
Even in school you weren’t delusional enough to believe that someone like him could like someone like you. Despite what years of casual bullying had tried to instill in you, you knew it wasn’t because of some unlovable fault of your own.
But who would be silly enough to think that the King of Hawkins would stoop to the ranks of drama and chess nerds, where you lay among masses of what could only be described as geeks? The seas of Hawkins High hallways had parted at his presence. On multiple occasions, you had been laughed at for simply raising your hand in class, as if it was funny that you would dare even speak.
Maybe seeing him everyday had caused this; it was the forced proximity. You mistakenly believed that just because you worked together, Steve was now accessible to you. On your level, playing in the same league.
Although, wasn’t he? Free from the shackles of high school conformity, you had seen first hand for eight weeks that Steve Harrington was just like you. He could be annoying, make jokes that didn’t land, sing lyrics at the wrong time and speak Tears for Fears into silence. He did silly voices, recapped skits from Saturday Night Live in poor impersonations, and protected you from angry customers.
Didn’t he maybe see you in a new light, too? Recognize your feelings from a mile away, and feel the same? He must have, when he looked at you like you were the only girl in the world, warm brown eyes searching your soul. Sometimes he’d bite into the bottom of his shiny, pink lips when you spoke, and it would take every fiber of your being not to reach out and run your thumb against his mouth.
Once, he’d even placed his hand lightly on the small of your back as he passed by you. Other than the immediate fear that he’d notice how sweaty you were, your pulse spiked from his warmth, felt through a thin layer of polyester. You were sure that there was more than enough space behind you for him to scoot past. Steve in June never would have done that. But maybe Steve in July wanted you, too.
The combination of you, Steve and Robin quickly became your favorite shift to work. When it got slow, there was no shortage of conversation to fill the time, and when it was busy, you all worked around each other with surprising efficiency.
It was a stormy, mid-July day when Robin first brought it up. You could occasionally hear the claps of thunder over the cartoonish jingle of the store, which would explain the slow trickle of customers you two had, talking between orders while Steve took his 30.
“Two scoops of Vanilla Voyage and one Chocolate Ship on a waffle cone, one scoop of Cookies and Cannons in a cup,” you called to Robin, who scooped and laid out the ice cream speedily.
“One waffle and one cup, coming right up,” she called back. You rang them up, fingers flying across the register.
“Alright, back to business,” Robin said when the store emptied out again. The two of you sat in the front, sharing a milkshake across the scuffed, plastic table. Your crossed legs switched sides a few times, crossing one way for a few seconds, then the other, then back again, your knee jostling the table each time. Robin didn’t seem to notice.
“You need to stop being scared and tell Steve how you feel. It is exhausting for you guys to tiptoe around each other."
“And what is it, exactly, that I feel for him?”
She pulled the milkshake from you, leaving your fingers wet with residual condensation. “Unfiltered, pure, Summertime love.”
“God, is it that obvious?” You groaned.
“Not too obvious, I don’t think,” Robin slurped, “Unless you have two eyes.”
Your heart dropped. “Do you think Steve knows?”
“Now, that might be the only person who doesn’t know how you feel. I would say I’m not sure how he missed it, but he’s never been the brightest bulb,” she grinned.
“Hey, I like him. He’s smart when it comes to other stuff! Like, he knows all about baseball, and sometimes when the Cubs are playing over the radio, he’ll explain what’s happening to me,” you defended weakly.
She raised her hands in defense. “No judgement on my end. Steve’s a surprisingly good guy. I give him the stamp of approval. Go make out to Air Supply. Use protection.”
Warmth flooded your face at the idea. Kissing Steve was something basically unfathomable. Sex was a topic of conversation that would have you combusting if you let it go too far. “Do you think he likes me, too?”
Robin snorted a laugh in response. “I’m sure he does. Why wouldn’t he?”
You frowned, looking off into the distance. The few shoppers in the mall seemed to be milling about mindlessly, arms full of shopping bags, shoes tapping against shiny, new linoleum floors as they passed by. There was nothing that separated you from them. And yet…
“I don’t know. It seems like my whole life there’s been a million reasons not to like me,” you sighed. “And I don’t know why. I think I’m missing something. Something that everyone can tell just by looking at me.”
Robin stayed silent for a moment, before pushing the milkshake back to you. “I get it. I think I’m missing that same thing.”
You gave her a soft smile. People seemed to see you and Robin the same way. If you got nothing else out of working at Scoops that Summer, you were grateful to at least have met her. She was the diamond in the horrible Hawkins rough.
“God, where is that guy anyway? It’s been more like 40, and I wanna take my break too,” Robin scoffed. Now that she had mentioned it, he had been gone longer than usual.
“Taking a dump, maybe,” you murmured, twisting the plastic straw lazily.
At that moment, Steve walked into the parlor, practically bouncing. One hand was stuffed in his short pocket, and the other held a small cup, white and green from Orange Julius.
“Speak of the devil and he doth appear,” Robin called, watching as he walked up to your table. “And where have you been, Harrington? I’m due for my break.”
He grinned, chewing on the tip of his straw. “Hello, ladies. Sorry for the wait. Robin, why don’t you take 40, too? I’ll even clock you in for the last ten minutes.”
She squinted her eyes at him, full of suspicion. “Why are you being so nice right now? What happened on your break?”
Steve wiggled his eyebrows at the both of you, before taking his hand out of his pocket. He slapped a receipt onto the table. You looked up at him, unamused, before he flipped it around. The back of the receipt had an address on it, signed by Linda with a heart.
“Holy. Shit. Did you actually land a date?” Robin gasped.
You stared at the slip of paper, mouth agape, trying to think of something to say. “Who’s Linda?”
“She works over at the Orange Julius. I went over to get some fries and she asked me to take my break with her. One thing led to another, and now I’m picking her up tonight to see Jaws at the Hawk.”
“Jaws? Not very romantic,” Robin said, glancing at you from the corner of her eye.
“It’s scary is what it is," he asserted, gesticulating as he explained.
"Let me teach you guys a little lesson on love, alright? We’re gonna go see this movie, and when that kid gets eaten by the shark, she’s gonna scream and look for someone to protect her. Who better to do that but me, and my big, strong arms?”
You felt like you were going to be sick. He did have big, strong arms, and tonight they were going to hold Orange Julius Linda in the dark of the movie theater.
She’d probably bury her face into his chest, and when she finally felt brave enough to look up again, she’d see Steve’s shining eyes. They’d stare at each other, pretending to be surprised by their position, then lean in, lips brushing until–
“Wow, so you get one date after begging for how many months–” Robin began.
“Okay, I wasn’t begging anyone–”
“And now you’re acting like some sort of love expert. That’s ridiculous. I mean, even for you,” she finished, turning to you. “Am I right?”
You gave her a tight smile, before nodding to the man in front of you. “Jaws is a great movie. I’m sure you guys will have a fun time, Steve.”
“Thank you! At least someone is supportive of me,” he said, before walking past you guys to the back room.
Robin shot you a sympathetic look. “We can call about it later, if you want?”
You smiled sadly at her. “Thanks, Rob. You better go take your break before the storm ends. Then we’ll actually have to work.”
She nodded, before getting up and walking out of the store. You sat at the table, only the sound of pop music flooding the mall to give you company. Supportive, Steve had said. It felt like a slap in the face.
He had just become your friend; maybe expecting him to return your romantic feelings was too much to ask. But for a small moment it really seemed like he wanted you, too.
Your record player had been stopped for 10 minutes. The vinyl needed to flipped, but you were so engrossed in your book that you had completely forgotten about it. When the phone rang from your nightstand, you scarcely looked up from the page; just reached out to grab it from the receiver.
“Hello?”
“Hey, it’s me.”
You sat up immediately. “Steve? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong. Does something have to be wrong for me to call?”
“Well, no. But something always is when you do,” you replied. You and Steve had traded numbers your first week at Scoops in case you needed to switch shifts, and ever since then all calls between the two of you had been strictly work related.
“Sorry about that. I just wanted to know what you were up to right now,” he replied, voice sheepish through the receiver.
You sat your book down on the bed, splayed to save your page. “I was just reading. Nowhere near as exciting as your night, I’m sure.”
A glance at the clock showed that it was only 10:30 P.M. “How was your date? Don’t tell me it’s over already.”
Steve sighed, the noise crackling against your ear. “It was alright. I don’t think there’ll be a second one.”
“Oh no, what happened?” You could hear him shuffling around.
“Well, I went to pick her up, but she left me waiting in the driveway for 10 minutes because she wasn’t ready. Then we got to the movie late and had terrible seats, like all the way by the front.”
“That’s the worst.”
“I know. I guess I didn’t realize they were doing something special at this screening, since it’s the 10 year anniversary, so they sprayed water at the audience whenever the shark was on screen.”
“Oh man, are you serious? That’s so cool!”
“Yeah, I thought so too,” Steve chuckled. “She didn’t feel the same way, because she started screaming about how it was gonna mess up her hair. The people around us were getting pissed because she was so loud. I didn’t know what to do!”
You laughed at the thought of Steve, wide-eyed in panic, as his date screamed in terror at her hair falling flat.
“So what did you do?”
“We left because some big guy threatened to fight me if I didn’t tell her to be quiet! Then when we got outside, she started chewing me out for not defending her in there,” he groaned. “But what was I gonna do? Get my ass kicked because she was bothering everyone?”
“Well, it’d be the noble thing to do,” you teased, before pausing. “I’m sorry your date didn’t go well, Steve. I know you were really excited to finally get back out there.”
“God. When you say that it makes me sound like a pathetic, divorced dad.”
“I’m sorry. I don’t want to make you feel worse than you already do.”
“You don’t have to apologize; at least it’ll make a good story,” he said.
Silence blanketed the conversation. It was warm and comforting to listen to the sound of his soft breathing against your ear. You wished you could reach through the phone to him, see what he looked like when he was all relaxed and dressed down at home. What did his room look like? What did the sheets smell like? Did he sleep on one pillow or two?
“Y’know, I was thinking that you would’ve really liked it tonight. Not the screaming and me almost getting punched, but just being there. It was kind of nerdy with all the Spielberg fans, but it was cool,” he continued. “They’re passionate, like you.”
Like you. He’d been thinking of you tonight, on his date or after, it didn’t matter. You wanted to explode.
“I think in other circumstances it would’ve been fun. Although movie dates are stressful for me.”
“Woah, wait a minute. Are you saying you’ve been on a date before?” Steve asked incredulously. You tried not to be offended.
“Yes, I have. I know I wasn’t prom queen material or whatever, but I did go out once Sophomore year,” you replied. “With Jared Barnett from my chemistry class.”
“Jared Barnett… I think I remember him. He had the long hair, right? And everyday at lunch he’d eat a corned beef sandwich,” Steve laughed. “He was a… y'know. A guy.”
“You can say it. He was a ‘geek’, or whatever, and most people didn’t like him because they thought he was weird,” you huffed. “But we saw Return of the Jedi together and the whole time I was so anxious I could barely even watch.”
“Jared made you that nervous? I didn’t realize you liked him that much.”
“Honestly, I just liked him as a friend, but I was freaked out because I didn’t know what I should be doing. It was all dark, and he was sitting next to me so I couldn’t read him at all. I just kept thinking, ‘what if he leans in to kiss me? What if he puts his arm around me? Should we hold hands?’ It drove me crazy, although at the end of the night nothing happened, and we went back to being friends.”
“Sounds like a perfectly normal date to me. Two of you watching Star Wars or whatever,” Steve said, a smile lacing his voice.
“Everyone thought we were dating, anyway. They see two nerds being friends in my halls and think they must be a match made in Heaven. It really annoyed me; not because I’d be ashamed to be seen with him, but because people only thought that because we’re both…” you stopped, not wanting to make yourself upset.
Jared was a good guy, who you had lost touch with in the past year. You had never been particularly close, but ran in the same social circles. That was the problem.
You and all your friends were bottom of the barrel, last picks in gym, never invited to parties. You’d been called every name in the book, which is exactly why your peers of Hawkins High assumed that you and Jared must have something in common.
You sighed. “Anyway, it’s not important. Hopefully my loveless woes make you feel better about your date.”
“Not that. Talking to you makes me feel a lot better, though,” Steve said.
Your heart was racing so fast it threatened to burst completely. Steve just said that he liked talking to you, and you tried your best not to squeal and kick your legs against the bed.
“I’ll tell Robin, too, but this week it’s supposed to be really nice out. If there’s a day where all three of us are free, we should drive to the Lake. It’ll be fun; we can drink and swim and pretend we don’t work at Scoops for a day,” he suggested.
The grin on your face was so wide, you were sure Steve would be able to feel it through the phone.
“I’d love to.”
Wednesday was the miraculous day when all three of you were free, and the plan to spend it at Lover’s Lake was put into motion.
You skipped to your car, a bag stuffed with towels and sunscreen being swung wildly in the air with joy. It would’ve been nice if music played somewhere from the sky, so that you could break into song and dance in the driveway. Your neighbors had long written you off as a basketcase for all the antics you’ve gotten up to in the front yard of your home. Jumping and spinning in silence was no longer odd behavior from you.
Steve would pick Robin up since she didn’t drive, and the three of you would meet on the East side of the lake, where it was quiet and sandy.
When you pulled up to the spot, you were struck with immediate fear when you didn’t see the red Beemer anywhere. It was 12 on the dot; were they running late? Maybe they had bailed on you in secret, watching from the trees while your head swung back and forth. Or sitting together at Robin’s, laughing at the thought of you waiting on your own.
No, Robin would never do that to you. She’d become your closest friend over the Summer; you understood each other like no one else. Would Steve play a prank like this on you? It was hard to imagine, but he used to be cruel. The things he’d done and said to your friends had been worse than the hypothetical situation you had just cooked up. Maybe it was the air, thick and stuffy, muddling your thoughts.
Suddenly, a series of quick beeps pulled you from your spiraling thoughts. The sight of the distinctive BMW rolling up next to your own beat up car made your heart soar.
He popped out of the car in a t-shirt and Levi’s jeans, hugging the curve of his biceps and thighs. This was the first time that you were seeing Steve in his own clothes since you started working together. In fact, you don’t think you’d even seen him outside of Starcourt the entire Summer.
You were foolish to ever think before that Steve was a sallow, dimmed version of his former self. He practically glowed in the sunlight, all tanned skin, light streaks in his hair, white teeth glinting when he grinned. It was suddenly much hotter outside.
“There you are! Took you guys long enou–wait, where’s Robin?”
“I’m five minutes late; not even,” Steve said, rounding the back of his car to pop open the trunk. “And she bailed on us.”
“She bailed on us? Why? Is she okay? She did say that she was feeling more tired than usual at work yesterday…”
“No, she’s alright, but she has to go to this stupid luncheon with her parents. I tried to call but I figured you were already on your way over here. Seemed like a waste of a good day if we cancelled, anyway,” Steve said, Raybans tucked into the collar of his shirt as he hauled a bag out of his car.
He turned to you, the perfect image of Summer. “Shall we?”
You walked to a small clearing in the trees, where dirt gave way to smooth rock and packed sand. It wasn’t a beach by any means, but it was the perfect spot to settle for the day; just enough light and shade and water.
Were you supposed to get undressed now? Part of the appeal for this lake day was the idea of sunbathing peacefully with each other. You’d been eager knowing that Robin would be here alongside you; you’d even chosen your two piece.
Now, the idea of stripping alone in front of Steve made your head spin. You crouched down next to your things, rummaging through your bag to stall, before looking back to see that Steve had already taken his shirt off.
Your mouth went dry at the sight of him. The soft patch of hair you’d seen peeking out of his uniform was now on full display, covering his chest and leading a perfect line down his torso, disappearing into his colorful swim shorts. The moles that dotted his face and neck didn’t stop there, either. You could see them decorating the space of his broad shoulders and arms, even one slightly off center from his belly button. Holy shit.
You were suddenly unsure if it was the heat of the day making you lightheaded, or simply the sight of him. A bead of sweat was trailing from the sharp angle of his jaw to his collarbones. Your eyes trailed up, meeting Steve’s. When you realized that you’d been caught staring, your face went warm.
“See something you like?” Steve teased.
You coughed violently at the remark, before shaking your head. “I didn’t know we were getting undressed already.”
“What the hell do you think we’re here for? I can turn around if you want.”
You nodded sheepishly, waiting for him to look away. Once everything was neatly tucked away in your bag, you cleared your throat, signalling to Steve that the coast was clear.
He turned around, hands on his hips, mouth open with what must’ve been a witty comment on the tip of his tongue. It never made it out, mouth agape with an open stare. His eyes roamed your body, face all the way down to your toes and back up again. You tried not to squirm under his gaze.
“You’ve never had a boyfriend before?”
“Don’t make fun of me,” you frowned.
“I’m not making fun of you! I’m just… processing.”
You walked past him, up the rocks to where you knew there was deeper water.
“Oh yeah? Process this!” you called, before jumping in with a graceless cannonball.
The cold water shocked you upon entering, the bottom of the lake like ice, before you swam up for air.
You wiped the water from your eyes, looking for Steve in the sandy area where you left him, but he was mysteriously missing.
“Look out!” got yelled from above you, where he was several feet in the air, plummeting directing in your direction.
You yelped, quickly diving below the surface just as it broke under his weight. You dared to open your eyes under the water, trying to make out Steve’s blurred figure through the rising bubbles. When you came back up, he appeared bobbing in the water, famous hair slicked back against his skull.
“Jesus, couldn’t give a little more heads up?” you asked, faking anger as you splashed at him.
“I think I aimed wrong,” he laughed, splashing back.
You swam back to shore, taking turns showing your best dives and flips in the air. Steve was irritatingly good at it; diving into the water with barely a plop, twisting his body into angles you thought were reserved for gymnasts. What you lacked in technical skill, you made up for in enthusiasm. Each jump into the water was accompanied with a call for attention, you and Steve yelling nonsense to the sky.
“Geronimo! Cowabunga!” Steve shouted.
“Michael Jordan! Argentina!” You called back.
After tiring yourselves from all the jumps and racing you’d done (Steve had bested you in speed, too), you both crawled onto the towels, warmed from the sun and caught your breaths.
Laying side by side with Steve, on your stomach with a book in hand, you watched as he popped a piece of gum in his mouth, searching through his bag for sunglasses.
“You chew gum a lot. Even at work, when you know Ned will yell at you,” you observed.
He tilted his head towards you, a sly grin gracing his mouth. “Have you been watching me?”
“Sometimes, when there’s nothing else to do.”
Steve looked back up to the sky. “I’m trying to quit nicotine. It helps to have something else in my mouth.”
“You smoke? Or, you used to?”
“Yeah, just for a year or two.”
“Wow. Why did you? Does it… feel good?” You asked curiously. None of your friends had smoked cigarettes, and you weren’t sure that you knew anyone who actually did.
He chuckled at your blunt questioning. “Yeah, it does. Otherwise people wouldn’t do it. Kind of makes your head feel buzzy and light. But I only started because all my friends did,” he sighed. “It’s so stupid, the things people do to fit in. But Carol said I was a pussy if I didn’t at least try, and I couldn’t let them make fun of me, so…”
You didn’t speak for a moment, taking in what he said with awe.
“I guess I didn’t realize that popular people could get peer-pressured, too. It seems stupid to say, but I just assumed that being King Steve, every one followed your lead.”
“Nope,” he said, popping the p. “It’s all one big, sick joke. I mean, I had a lot of fun in school. It’s not like I regret my life. But looking back, it’s all stupid.”
You looked back at your book, unreading but deep in thought. “It is all kind of stupid, huh? I actually used to sit next to Carol Perkins in middle school. She was at a table with just the three of us, my friend and I, which I think she hated. I was with my friend, but everyone she knew was on the other side of the room.”
It was biology in 8th grade; just you, Carol, and your friend Shauna. Shauna got bullied for having a stutter. She rarely spoke to people she didn’t know, and you’d felt protective over her throughout middle school. You were both skeptical when Carol was assigned to sit with you two, but she barely spoke either, probably feeling outnumbered by the weird kids.
“She wasn’t very rude to my friend and I–just a few comments here or there, nothing we hadn’t heard before–but one day she said the strangest thing to us. She said that if any of her friends were rude to us, we should tell her,” you continued.
At that, Steve turned back to you, brow creased under his Raybans.
“It was kind of presumptuous to say that we were getting bullied, so Shauna and I just nodded our heads and went back to work. I mean, we did get bullied. But it was so odd; it was the first time anyone had really acknowledged it. Carol Perkins of all people tried to break the cycle,” you smiled at him. “Obviously it didn’t change anything, but it makes you think.”
“If I knew you in school, I probably would’ve said something equally as dumb. Trying to be good, and not meaning it,” he remarked, before falling silent, his breath steadying out as he napped in the golden light of the day.
Maybe Steve was perfect. The sight of his profile was solid evidence of that; his perfectly straight nose, full lips and glowing tanned skin. More than that, knowing Steve for two months made you truly understand his popularity in school.
Before, it all seemed so random; you could never pinpoint why some people were worshiped while others were belittled. He wasn’t the kindest person, but maybe it was different when you really knew him. This must have been how all the girls he talked to felt; giddy with excitement and special.
He broke your shared silence over sandwiches and tangerines 20 minutes later. Steve regaled you with a tale from the week: he’d spotted an ex-girlfriend of his with another guy from the basketball team. Apparently he’d hidden behind a display at Waldenbooks until they passed, leaving his ego bruised.
“We were never serious, it was like 4 years ago, but c’mon. I’m gonna be a loser for life if I continue like this,” he complained.
“Well, that might be true. If I saw you working at Scoops in another 10 years, I’d feel really bad. But I don’t think having a summer job, even if it’s a dorky one, makes you a loser. At least you have your own money! It’s like Brad from Fast Times: he was popular, and he worked at the burger place, and everyone loved him.”
He shook his head, peeling a tangerine and setting it on your towel, before peeling another for himself. “Okay, well then I’m like when Brad had to work at the fish place, and wore that stupid pirate costume, and also got dumped by his girlfriend.”
“Being single doesn’t make you a loser either, Steve. I don’t know why you’re so desperate to get a girlfriend. I mean… is it sex? Are you lonely?” you asked with genuine concern.
“Oh Jesus Christ,” Steve groaned, brow creased. “I can’t believe we’re talking about this right now.”
“You’re the one who brought it up. Besides, we don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”
“No, you’re right. I dunno. I haven’t gotten laid in a while; women aren’t exactly jumping my bones with the hat on. But it’s like… I don’t even like any of the girls I talk to anyway,” he sighed, tossing tangerine peels into the trees.
“I can understand that, but what’s wrong? It’s not a big town, but there has to be someone you like. Other than Nancy.” Me, maybe.
He laid back onto the towel, squinting into the sun. “They’re all stuck up, or take themselves too seriously. And they’re all expecting something from me. To be King Steve, I guess. Be a big tough guy and all suave and stuff. It’s like I can’t be myself. Or, I don’t even know who I am anymore,” Steve’s eyes glazed over in thought, staring into the sky, seeing something you couldn’t.
I know who you are, Steve. Or I could, if you’d let me. I like you the way you are. Please look over here. Look at me. You wished that he could hear your thoughts, understand everything you were too scared to say. If he turned to you, he’d see you, shining in the sun like you saw him, and know you were the one.
“I wish I could meet someone fun and relaxed and cool. Someone that’s like you, but not you. Y’know what I mean?”
You froze completely; the heat of the day replaced with an icy chill. But not you.
“Why not me?” you asked, voice small.
He turned to you suddenly, as if just hearing himself. “No, I didn’t–that’s not what I meant.”
Your throat threatened to close, a lump swelling so large you feared your neck may explode. “What did you mean?”
Steve blanched. “I mean, because we’re friends. And coworkers; it would be kind of weird if we…”
You nodded, chewing your bottom lip to prevent any noise from escaping. Steve was lying to you, you were certain of it. 'Not you' meant a girl like you, but prettier. A girl like you that didn’t talk too much, that could socialize without making a fool of herself, that was normal.
He sat up quickly, legs crossed close to you, and reached for your cheek.
“Hey, wait, I’m sorry. Look at me,” he coaxed, trying to read your expression. For the first time since he met you, he was unable to see anything when he looked into your face. It was like your entire being had shut down, eyes staring blankly downward as your teeth bit skin.
“C’mon, look at me,” Steve had never sounded so soft as he cradled your face, tilting it upward.
You did, seeing his face wrinkled with concern, lips pulled down. It was terrible timing to realize that his eyes weren’t actually brown, but closer to hazel; little flecks of green around the iris. They were beautiful, how it matched the foliage around you.
He was beautiful, and you’d been wrong before to not consider him handsome. He was possibly the most handsome man you had ever seen. You cursed yourself for thinking such a thing at that moment, even when he had just said the one thing that had been a curse your entire life.
But not you. But not you, but not you, not you, not you, not you.
“There you are. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have said that, okay?” When you gave no response, he apologized again. “Did I fuck up our lake day? I’ll drive you home.”
At that, you gave a weak smile, and gently removed his hand from your cheek.
“I drove here, remember?”
His eyes widened just a bit at his mistake. “Oh shit, you’re right. I’m used to driving Robin everywhere, I guess…”
You nodded, at a loss for words.
“Maybe we should pack up for the day. We’ll get burnt if we stay out here much longer,” you said, standing up. You didn’t wait for Steve’s response as you shimmied your clothes back on, reaching down to dust off your towel.
“Are you sure?” Steve asked uncertainly.
“Yeah, enough fun for one day, I think,” you replied, hauling your bag over your shoulder. Without waiting for Steve, you walked back in the direction of your car, ignoring his call for you to hold up.
You walked briskly through the trees, branches scraping at your arms and legs with tiny scratches that you couldn’t mind. As soon as you spotted your dented Dodge, your body filled with small relief. Once you got in, you’d be home free, no longer have to look into Steve’s pitying eyes.
How embarrassing could you be, getting so emotional over a remark like that? What did you expect; that Steve Harrington of all people was going to fall head over heels for his coworker from the ice cream shop? You were such an idiot.
“Wait up! Hold on!”
You turned from where you had just opened the driver’s side door to see Steve, disheveled with his shirt on inside out, swim shorts still on, approaching you quickly. You paused, waiting as he halted quickly at your side.
“Are we… Are we good?” He asked hesitantly.
You wanted to yell at him. Are we good? Evidently not.
“We’re good,” you reassured, and despite the fact that you both knew that you were lying, you climbed into the car anyway. You tried not to watch Steve in your rearview, standing pathetically next to his Beamer, bag hanging limply in one hand as you drove away.
It wasn’t easy, but you had managed to rearrange your entire schedule for the week. You weren’t scheduled with Steve in the days that followed your lake escapade, which would usually have you clawing the walls. It was a blessing in disguise now, no longer having to face the man that had broken your heart.
Gary and Todd were good sports when you called them and begged to switch days with them so you didn’t have to see him at work. You had a wonky schedule, having to get up much earlier than usual to make it on time, closing and opening back to back, but it was worth it if it meant you didn’t have to confront that awful feeling.
“God, Harrington is such an idiot. I’ll kill him for you, if you want,” Robin had said when you told her at work the next day.
You shook your head weakly. “I’m mad, but I don’t know if I should even be mad. I mean, if he doesn’t like me, whose fault is that? Nobody; he can’t help it if he doesn’t feel the same way.”
“It’s not about that, it’s the way that he said it! That must have been horrible; anyone would be upset about hearing that,” Robin explained, before turning to the register. It’d been a long day; there was hardly time for talking with how many customers there were.
“Banana boat with the works, two sugar, one with Black Cherry Boat and one with Sea Salt Caramel,” she called to you.
“Jesus Christ, when is this gonna end,” you muttered to yourself, arm deep in rock solid ice cream. Maybe the rush would take your mind off of Steve, but all you could think about were the horrible jokes he would make at a time like this, the humming he would do along to the Top 100 hits that played. The way he’d take over, peeling the bananas to make your job as easy as possible.
After the rush died, Robin pulled you to the back. “Listen, I support your decision to ignore him, but you have to know that the dingus is probably going to bother you nonstop until you hear him out. You have to be ready for that.”
“Why would he do that?”
She sighed, running her hands over her face. “Even if he doesn’t have feelings for you, you guys are friends. One bad day won't change that for him. And even though he is a complete dumbass, we both know deep down that he’s a good guy. Don’t get me wrong, he should be punished. But I know he’s gonna try his best to make you crack.”
Robin had turned out to be completely right. He'd left notes stuck to the whiteboard that said things like I’m sorry! and Please call me, which you tossed into the trash instantly. Even Todd had been recruited to get Steve back in your good graces.
“He really didn’t tell me what’s going on, but he told me to tell you that he’s sorry for what he said,” Todd relayed, looking bored out of his mind.
When you didn’t answer, he spoke again. “What did Harrington do, anyway? Was he really that bad of a boyfriend?”
At that, you threw down the rag you held into the bucket of soapy water where it belonged. “He was never my boyfriend,” you gritted out.
The closest you’d gotten to speaking to Steve was a week and a half after the lake day, when your phone rang from its place on your side table. You answered it absent-mindedly, freezing when you heard the sound of Steve’s voice softly calling your name.
“Hello? Are you th–”
You slammed the phone back onto the receiver, heart racing. You hadn’t heard his voice in days, the way it softly cradled your ear. The sound of your name rolling off of his tongue, like it was Scripture. You missed him so much, it felt like you were being carved from the inside out. It would’ve been easy to answer his call and say it. Yes, I forgive you. Let’s be friends forever. But not you. Not you.
If you went back to work with him, it could be business as usual. Everyday would be jokes and watching his back, like longing wasn’t stuck in your throat. But you knew the truth: you’d gotten too close. You’d convinced yourself that Steve might feel the same way. That he could ever see you as more than a coworker; as more than a friend. With that, you’d killed what barely had a chance to live.
Two Wednesdays after the lake day, you sat home alone. Your parents were off visiting an uncle, leaving you to stretch across the house all by yourself. Outside, the sun had begun to set in a wash of orange and pink, disappearing slowly behind the silhouette of trees. A re-run of Cheers was playing on the T.V; an episode you didn’t care about, and only wanted on for background noise while you read.
A quick knock at the door made you perk up. You weren’t expecting anyone, and were uninterested in managing a door-to-door salesman. On T.V, Sam Malone was wiping glasses. You looked back down to your book, only for the knocking to start again.
Jesus Christ, who could that possibly be? You set the book aside, and went up to the door. It swung open to reveal Steve, dressed up in a striped polo, hair a floppy mess, as though he’d been running his hands through it.
“Steve?” You hadn’t seen him in two weeks, and now he was standing on your front porch. “What are you doing here? How do you… how do you know where I live?”
He ran his hand through his hair again, pieces falling over his forehead. “I looked it up in the phonebook. Since I already have your number.”
“Oh. Okay,” you squeaked, suddenly feeling exposed. You were dressed in little linen shorts and a big shirt, feet clad in slippers. No one had ever seen you in your house clothes; now Steve Harrington was at your door, witness to your most intimate self.
“So... what are you doing here?”
He stared at you, mouth tight, scanning your face as if looking for a tiny pinpoint answer hidden in your eyelashes or skin.
“I needed to see you. I mean, it’s been two weeks. We used to see each other almost everyday,” he said.
“Why did you need to see me? Did something happen?” You frowned. Not once had you ever seen this expression on Steve’s face; so unsure and sad. Maybe he was sick or…
“Because… I missed you. I didn’t realize how used I got to seeing you until you weren’t there anymore. I know when I say that it makes it sound like I’m just thinking about myself, but I had to come talk to you today,” he admitted.
You shifted from one leg to another, antsy.
“I missed you too, Steve. I just thought it’d be good for us to get some space after that day. I didn’t want to make things more weird, but maybe I already did.”
“No; I’m the one who made things weird, not you. I’m such an idiot for what I said to you the other day. When I said that I’d date someone like you. I’ve been thinking about it nonstop, and if I could kick my own ass I would. Hell, I’d be lucky if you even wanted to date me, not the other way around.”
He stepped closer, inches away from you. One hand braced the smooth wood of the doorway.
Your face softened at his words. “You don’t have to apologize about it anymore; I forgive you. We can keep being friends.”
“Fuck, I don’t want to be friends, okay?” Steve ran his free hand through his hair again. “All I can think about lately is you. Not because I feel bad, or I pity you, but because you’re the best thing that’s happened to me all Summer.”
You stared at him, eyes wide in shock. Your throat was completely dry, leaving you speechless; not that you’d know what to say, anyway.
“You’re the most interesting, funniest person I’ve ever met in my life. Every time I’d see you at work I’d get excited because I knew I was going to have the best shift in my life. That day at the lake should’ve been perfect. I should’ve told you all of this; that you’re amazing,” he cupped your cheek at that moment, just like he had at the lake. This time it left your heart racing with anticipation, his warmth radiating into you. “That you’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.”
You whispered his name softly, unable to believe what you just heard. At any moment your heart could burst out of your chest and shoot into the sky.
“You… You like me?”
He tilted your face up slightly, before leaning in. Your lips brushed against each other lightly, almost hesitantly, as if giving you space to pull away before he pressed closer.
Both of Steve’s hands cupped your face, one reaching back to settle on the back of your neck. You brought arms up to his shoulders, and allowed your hands to tangle in his hair. It was even softer than you imagined, and you wished you could pinch yourself and make sure none of it was a dream. He gave a small moan in your mouth as you scratched gently against his scalp. File that away for later.
When you pulled away, you found Steve with flushed cheeks and lips glossy from yours. You held his shoulders while he brushed his thumb against the lines of your face, moving down to hold your waist.
“Yes, I do like you. I really, really like you.”
“That’s such a relief,” you smiled, “I really like you, too.”
Steve grinned, moving to kiss you again. “I give you permission to kick my ass if I ever hurt you like that again. You can slap me, if you want.”
You held him just an inch from your lips, “That won’t be necessary, I think. All will be forgiven if you just make it up to me.”
He guided you into the house with hands moving down to your hips, lips against yours. “I’ll start right now.”
omg. very afraid that he's ooc or that this story sucks and makes no sense but i had to get it out of my system. if u enjoyed feel free to leave a like/comment/reblog!
06/20/26 update: slightly edited for tense consistency and clarity!
i’m so excited to see djo but sometimes i get sad when i remember he can’t just play the whole decide album. like why is there no fool or change or like I want your video??!!? also need him to play personal lies and the crux. and while we’re here lonesome is a state of mind aswell thank uuu!! 👅👅
and when i say best song off the album then what..??🤔🤔
like omfg i love how i know that in any olivia album there will be at least one song that i’ll be able to relate to since ive never really had a big relationship/breakup. ITS SOO CHAPPELL ROAN!!! i love this album omg. expectations that is my baby my son my child 💝💝
or3 will be released Tonight🤲🤲!! right deja vu was released 5 years ago today. do you get deja vu?? bc u will when she drops tonight!! Now, it’s april fools day, remember when joe keery said he took inspiration from olivia for Back On You?? Ok stay with me now🧏♀️ she’s gonna call the album fool!! which will then inspire joe to put Fool back on the setlist for the upcoming tour!!
or3 will be released Tonight🤲🤲!! right deja vu was released 5 years ago today. do you get deja vu?? bc u will when she drops tonight!! Now, it’s april fools day, remember when joe keery said he took inspiration from olivia for Back On You?? Ok stay with me now🧏♀️ she’s gonna call the album fool!! which will then inspire joe to put Fool back on the setlist for the upcoming tour!!
i’m so excited to see djo but sometimes i get sad when i remember he can’t just play the whole decide album. like why is there no fool or change or like I want your video??!!? also need him to play personal lies and the crux. and while we’re here lonesome is a state of mind aswell thank uuu!! 👅👅
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