pairing: Steve Harrington x reader
summary: Steve finds you crying in a hallway at Hawkins High, and Steve hates to see you cry.
warnings: violence, mention of injury, cursing, protective Steve, bullying, not proofread!
Also, this is completely wrong in the whole timeline of things, so don't mind that. I just wanted to write something cute for Steve. Requests are much appreciated, as well as comments! I love hearing from you guys!
“Steve, I promise it’s really not that big of a deal,” I tell him over my shoulder, walking faster through the school hallway, trying to get away from him. Tears are leaking down my face, and that’s not a sight I want Steve Harrington to see.
“Then why do you look so upset? Hey, come here,” He says, grabbing my arm and turning me around. His face falls when he sees my eyes, the wet streaks on my cheeks. We’re standing at the very end of the hallway, the doors two feet away from me. I could just ease out of his grasp and walk away from a potentially awkward interaction, but for some reason, I want to confide in him. He seems genuinely concerned for me, and that’s a lot coming from King Steve.
“Baby, why are you crying? What happened?” He asks gently, rubbing my tears away with his thumbs. His forehead creases with concern, and his perfect hair falls into his eyes. The sun from outside streams in through the window on the door, illuminating his face, making him look like an angel.
“It’s really nothing,” I sniff, wiping at my eyes. Embarrassment reddens my face. “Just some people being mean.”
“What?” He grumbled. “Someone’s being mean to you? Who?” His face turns from concern to frustration in a flash. His hands slide down all the way from my cheeks, down my arms, and to my hands. His fingers fit between mine perfectly as he pulls me a little closer.
My mind clouds over. Suddenly, I forget why I’ve been crying. Wait, who was being mean to me again? Steve’s face fills every available thinking spot in my brain. How does he have this effect on me?
The events of the past 10 minutes come spiraling back to me, though, and all my previous feelings of happiness are gone.
Being a student at Hawkins Highschool means you’re bound to hear the rumors of King Steve and his posse, Tommy H and Carol. Gossip floats around, retellings of stories that don’t always seem credible. Carol and Tommy doing unspeakable things in Mr. Mundy’s classroom, and Steve running through the entire Hawkins women population. Some swoon, some roll their eyes. No matter they’re reaction, they know the name. So when that very person starts talking to me in my chemistry class, no matter how much of a douche bag I think he is, I respond to him. And, when eventually, Steve asks me out in the parking lot of Hawkins High with a bouquet of flowers, my heart stutters and, obviously, I have to accept. Hanging out with his friends was exhausting, especially when they drank until they passed out or drove around at 100 miles a fucking minute, but it was worth it to just be around Steve. Real feelings were starting to bloom, and to no one’s surprise, the King Steve charm was working on me.
“Hey,” He prompts, looking me in the eyes, grabbing my attention. “Talk to me, please.” He pouts his lips in a teasing way, drawing a small giggle out of me. He can always make me laugh, even when I’m in the worst of moods.
The problem here is that I have no idea how to tell Steve the reason for my bad mood. How do you tell your boyfriend that his best friend, his partner in, probably actual, crime just called you a slut? How do I tell him that his best friend backed me into a corner and told me I was just another notch in his belt, and an unsatisfactory one at that. All because I told him to lay off of Barb, sweet, innocent Barb. She only passed Tommy’s peripheral for a second, and his immediate reaction was to call her a pig, tell her how ugly she was. I didn’t yell or shame him. I only told him to be nice. But, that’s where I went wrong. See, you don’t tell Tommy H what to do. He’s short and scrawny, but he’s also intimidating and violent. So of course, when I tell Tommy to just relax a little bit, he goes off the rocker. Next thing I know, I’m walking down the hallway crying, trying to evade my concerned boyfriend.
“You’re not gonna like it, Stevie,” I mumble, staring at my shoes. My hair falls into my face, the half up-half down hairstyle loosening. Strong hands guide my head back up, tucking the fallen hair behind my ears.
“As long as it ends with me beating this person's ass, I’ll be ok with it,” He whispers sarcastically, playfully nipping at my nose. I laugh at him, pulling my face away from his pretend bites.
I sigh, accepting that he’ll probably find out eventually, so I’ll just tell him now. “Well, you know how when me, you, Tommy, and Carol were sitting in the hallway earlier and you stepped out to go to the bathroom?” He nods at me, his forehead creasing. This particular face is one of my favorites. Where he looks concerned and attentive, while also still looking absolutely adorable. The facial expression evokes a small smile to form on my lips. “Yeah, um, so while you were out, Barb walked by us and Tommy, well, he just started being mean to her. She looked really hurt, and Tommy just kept going, so all I did was tell him to loosen up a little bit.” Understanding begins to dawn on Steve’s face. His grip on my hands becomes slightly tighter, and blood seems to flow faster to his face.
“Don’t tell me that dickwad said something to you,” He fumes, already putting together the pieces.
“Well, let's just say I pissed him off. Really bad.”
Steve huffs, letting go of my hands to run his own through his hair, the telltale sign that he’s frustrated. He looks up at the ceiling, almost like he’s asking someone high above for patience. His eyes meet mine again, but this time he just looks angry.
“What did he say to you?” He seethes, taking the typical mom stance. His hands are on his hips, and his left foot is slightly turned out. I know this stance all too well. This is the” I’m about to lose my shit” stance. The stance the kids get daily.
I walk towards him grabbing his forearms and taking his hands off of his hips. “Steve, it’s nothing to worry about, alright? I’m fine. You’re fine. We’re fine. Everything is fine,” I plead, trying to convince him.
His shoulders loosen just a hair. “Whatever he said obviously got you worked up, sweetheart. I hate seeing you like this. Just tell me what happened,” He laments, grabbing my hands once again.
I groan, resting my head on his chest. This really isn’t going to go over well. Either Steve will be mature and calm about the situation, or he’ll pick a fight with Tommy. Let’s be honest… which one sounds more like Steve?
Looking back up at him, I say, “As long as you promise not to freak out. Ok?”
“Baby, I can’t promise anything. If this douche bag hurt you, then I’m gonna make him pay for it, alright? So just tell me what he said.” His frustration seeps into his tone, annoyed at my omittance.
Maybe Steve is right. I mean, if some girl told Steve that same thing I would want to know so I could go beat her ass. To be completely honest, I just don’t want Steve to get into fights I know he might not win. I would never tell him that, but his fighting history isn’t… successful to say the least. He got his ass whooped by Johnathan Byers early last year, and I know Billy has been pushing him around recently as well. Don’t get me wrong, I know Steve can protect and defend me. I have no doubt in him. I just don’t want him to get hurt over something so unnecessary.
But, at the same time, I know he’s not going to let up until I tell him. And, it would be sad if our date later tonight got completely ruined because all he wants to talk about is what Tommy H said. Honestly, Steve isn’t silly enough to go pick a fight with Tommy H. He has some self awareness… right?
“Fine, fine,” I say, looking back at the floor. “He basically told me I was a… slut and another notch on your belt. And, that I wasn’t satisfying you,” I say it super fast, just trying to rip the bandaid off.
Steve doesn’t say a single word. When I look up, he’s just staring at me with his eyes bulging. I start to say something, to be honest I don’t really know, to calm him down or change the topic, but he won’t have it.
He mutters, “That little shit” and then sprints down the hallway, yelling Tommy’s name.
I run after him, yelling at him to stop. That it’s fine. “Steve! Steve, slow down!”
To no one’s surprise and to my own chagrin, he does not stop running. He actually speeds up, making his way to the gym. Unfortunately, I already know Tommy is there. Carol brags about the unspeakable things they do after school in the gym to me during second period every day. It’s quite disgusting actually.
Steve runs up to the door, me on his heels, and slams it open. The door hits the wall behind it forcefully, making me flinch. Walking in, Carol is sitting on the bleachers, tying one of her shoe laces. Next to her sits Tommy, buttoning his shirt back up. I don’t want to even think about the things they were doing five minutes ago. They both look up at the sound of the door slamming, and Tommy’s smile falls quickly.
“Steve, what are you doing here, man?” He asks cautiously.
Steve doesn’t even respond, just grabs the collar of Tommy’s shirt and throws him to the ground violently. He hits the ground hard, his head ricocheting off the floor.
Oh, great. Just what we need. A concussed Tommy.
He becomes pissed, standing up off the ground quickly and charging for Steve.
“What the hell!” Tommy yells, grabbing Steve by the midsection and tackling him down to the floor. I gasp, watching Tommy pin Steve down to the ground. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”
Steve, struggling, pushes Tommy off of him hard, standing up and taking a few steps away. His chest is heaving, anger fueling his actions. “No! What the fuck is wrong with you!” He yells at Tommy, taking a step forward and pointing his finger at him. “You think just because I walk away, that you can talk to my girl like that?” Steve yells.
Tommy laughs at him, getting in his face. “Your girl? Your girl? Harrington, every single girl in this damn school is your girl. I didn’t say a fucking thing to her that wasn’t true. I mean, come on. Look at her,” He points at me, insulting me all over again. “She doesn’t even look like she’ll kiss you, much less be good in the sack.” Tommy laughs like he just won the “Funniest Joke of the Year” award, looking over at Carol who’s laughing too. My eyes start to well up again, but I push the tears back. I can’t let them see me cry. I’m sure he’ll just use that against me eventually too.
Tommy looks at Carol again, starting to walk toward her when Steve throws a powerful punch at his nose. Carol screams, as do I, and Tommy looks shocked. His nose instantly bleeds, looking slightly crooked, and he falls onto his knees in pain.
“Talk about her like that again,” Steve warns. He turns around to walk back to me, taking his eyes off of Tommy for a second.
“Steve!” I yell, pointing behind him just before Tommy comes crashing to the ground, pulling Steve with him. Tommy gets on top of him, his nose bruised and bleeding, and starts throwing punches to Steve’s face. He gets two in, splitting my sweet boy’s lip, when Steve flips them and lays into Tommy. Punch after punch. He’s taking all his anger out on the boy’s face.
I run over to him, grabbing his shoulder. “Steve, stop! You’re gonna kill him!” I yell, pulling at him. He doesn’t falter.
“Steve, stop it! He’s had enough!” I yell again, shaking him.
Finally, Steve stands up from the floor, scowling at the beaten up boy before him. “Come near either of us again, and your ass is grass. You hear me! I will kill you!” He yells in Tommy’s face before grabbing my hand and walking us out of the gym. His face is almost tomato red, his forehead scrunched.
I glance over my shoulder before we make our exit, watching as Carol runs over to Tommy and kneels next to his broken face. She asks him if he’s ok, reaching out to help him up, but Tommy swats her off. Even after being beaten to a pulp, he’s still a douche.
We walk silently to the parking lot, Steve’s hand still in mine and his chest heaving. He still looks angry, new bruises forming around his left eye. His lip is split, and blood is seeping from his nose. Why, after every single situation, does it seem that Steve is always getting beaten up?
I stop him once we walk out the door and far enough away from Tommy, pulling on his hand and turning him around to face me. I watch as the adrenaline slowly seeps from his face, leaving way for pain and swelling. He grimaces, reaching up to feel the swollen skin around his eye.
I sigh at him, grabbing his hand before he touches his face and makes it worse. “Are you ok?” I ask him, disappointment on the edges of my tone.
Let me be clear, I love seeing this part of Steve. Watching how protective he feels over me makes my heart swell because it means he truly cares for me. I know his intentions are good, and that he only wants me to be happy. It’s just hard to watch him get beaten up over and over again. I hate watching him become upset, especially for me. All I ever want to see is a smile on Steve’s face, so when he puts himself in these kinds of situations, I start to worry. Hell, what would have happened had I not been there? Would he have continued to hit Tommy? Would he have punched Carol? He was so angry.
He smiles at me softly, ironically contrasting the state of his face. “I’m great. Are you ok?” He breathes, tucking my hair behind my ears.
I unwillingly melt at his touch, leaning into him just a bit. Somehow, the King Steve charm does wonders on my frustration.
Why was I mad at him again?
He leans down and brushes his lips against mine, extending an olive branch.
I grumble, looking up at him. “Steve, don’t do that.”
He smirks at me, a particularly cocky one, and asks, “Do what, sweetheart?”
I groan internally, wishing I could just stay in this moment, succumb to my feelings. But, unfortunately, I can’t.
“Steven,” I huff, “we’re going to have to talk about it eventually.” I rub my thumb over his lower lip gently, caressing the small cut.
“Can you just patch me up, and we can talk about it later?” He coaxes, pouting his lips like a baby.
Again, to no one’s surprise, I give in. “Yeah, come on,” I sigh, holding his hand and guiding us to his car. “I’m assuming I’ll drive us home?”
He nods at me and hops into the passenger’s seat, relaxing his head on the head rest. I can’t help but admit seeing Steve laid down in the passenger’s seat does something to me, the fact that he just fought for me adding the cherry on top.
“Aww, look at my beat up passenger princess,” I tease him, giggling when he smirks at me sarcastically.
The ride home feels longer than usual, silence hanging in the air. Stuck in this quiet, I begin to think. Maybe I shouldn’t be so frustrated with him. Really, I would have done the same thing if I were in his situation. He stood up for me, protected me, and most of all, to Tommy. They’re supposed to be the unbreakable duo, although after today, I think a lot more is broken than just their skin. I don’t know how they’re ever going to come back from this and rekindle a friendship. They’re both too stubborn.
Steve really showed me today how much he truly cares for me, so maybe I shouldn’t be so hard on him. And, come on, look at his face. How could you be angry at him?
I reach for Steve’s hand, keeping the other on the wheel, and squeeze. “Thank you,” I say, taking my eyes off the road to look into his.
He kisses my knuckles, one at a time, and whispers, “Anything for you, love.”
Damn, do I love me some King Steve charm.
