you do it to yourself, you do, and that's why it really hurts
maybe you can't make a deal with god, but the devil welcomes you to the bargaining table with open arms. the party thinks they've saved your little sister from vecna's curse, but henry creel simply found another victim to prey upon - you.
or,
steve harrington confronts you at the creel house.
steve harrington x mayfield!reader part three to this fic
wc: 5k
a/n: ily all so much and hope u enjoy! i'm aiming to make this a 5 part series.
tags: VERY BRIEF use of y/n (i’m sorry it was unavoidable), more flirty tension, steve and reader being adorable and awkward in flashbacks, steve and reader heated argument scene, fem!reader, mayfield!reader, bit of dustin and steve angst, steve worrying about reader, reader is an overachiever, slight loser!steve (it's cute don't kill me), flashbacks to present time jumps, vecna being a master manipulator, cute sister dynamic between max and reader, sunshine!reader feeling helpless, cursing, reader being stupid, more in depth mention of death, angst.
Your first encounter with Steve Harrington had been nothing short of deplorable.
You hadn't meant to eavesdrop, but you'd been passing through the courtyard of Hawkins High to find your next class when you overheard the bickering couple. Naturally, you were curious. Curiosity may have killed the cat, but you were anxious to know more about the people at your school. You weren't any better than the cat.
"What are you doing here?" Steve asked, leaning against the brick wall outside the gymnasium. Drenched in sweat from an unpleasant basketball practice with Billy, he crossed his arms over his chest.
"What do you think?" Nancy asked, her brows raising at his obliviousness. "Where were you today? I missed first period."
Steve shrugged, avoiding her gaze.
"I figured Jonathan would take you," He responded nonchalantly.
She squinted at him now, her brows drawing together and mouth opening for a moment before she could find the words.
"What... what are you talking about?"
"Jesus, you really can't handle your alcohol," Steve scoffed.
From where you stood, peering around the corner, that was really all you were able to make out. You recognized them, vaguely. You weren't good with names yet, but theirs seemed to be ones that everyone talked about.
You knew the guy's name was Steve, and that people called him "The Hair". People in theater with you also called him "a major douche". Aside from that, you knew he really liked his car. You'd be lying if you'd said you didn't stop to stare when passing him cleaning it on occasion.
Your friends told you to stay away from him, stating that he'd done some pretty scummy things in the past. Even Billy didn't want you anywhere near him. Now, as you watched him argue with his girlfriend in public, you began to see the merit in their claims.
As far as first impressions go, he wasn't off to a very good start.
Nancy Wheeler, you did know. She was on the newspaper committee with you. Being one of the first friends you'd made here, you really liked her. So much so, you were contemplating stepping in to defend her. The conversation seemed to be getting rather heated, and you'd dealt with enough angry men in your life to know how to diffuse the ticking timebombs.
You began to round the corner, but then, you heard Steve more clearly, his voice raising.
"Apparently, uh... 'we killed Barb' and I don't care, cause I'm 'bullshit'..." he started, trailing off with a shake of his head.
"...and our whole relationship 'is bullshit', and... I mean, pretty much everything is just 'bullshit, bullshit, bullshit'," he quoted her, counting off on his fingers. His voice seemed unsteady, wavering. He sounded as though he was on the verge of tears.
You paused. This was not the Steve Harrington you'd been told about, not by a long shot. He seemed... hurt. The more you listened to the conversation, the more you began to feel empathy for him.
"Oh yeah, also, you don't love me!"
"I was drunk, Steve! I don't remember any of that," she responded defensively.
Afterwards, he asked her to tell him that she loved him. She couldn't. You winced at the scene, getting second hand embarrassment for him. It was tough to watch, and you could see that he was trying desperately to look unfazed by it all.
A guy in a basketball uniform burst through the door behind you, drawing Steve's attention.
"Steve, you gotta get in here, man! They're killing us!"
He exhaled sharply, his eyes falling to you. Nancy's did as well, and the couple was suddenly entirely aware of your eavesdropping.
"I think that you're bullshit," he mumbled with finality, jogging past Nancy to the door.
You were frozen in place, feeling both sorry for him and a bit terrified at the fact he'd discovered you.
"What?" he snapped, seeing that you were staring. He didn't have a clue in the world who you were. How would he? You'd only been going to this school a few weeks.
He rolled his eyes and scoffed at your lack of response, storming past you and into the building. You turned to try and offer some comfort to Nancy, but she was gone.
The next time you saw him was that afternoon, when you were leaving class to head to Billy's blue Camaro.
"Hey, wait up a second!" a voice called behind you. Curiously, you spun around to see who it was, only to find the same guy from earlier. He was less sweaty and angry now, more put together.
You stopped walking, your head tilting slightly to the side. You were interested, but cautious.
"You're, uh, Mayfield, right? Billy's sister."
"Yeah. Y/N Mayfield," you responded warily.
He let out a sigh of relief, looking grateful that he hadn't misremembered your name.
"I thought so. I just wanted to say, about earlier—" he started, but you swiftly interjected.
"Oh, you don't have to worry about that. I won't tell anyone. I shouldn't have even listened in, I was just worried about Nancy," you rambled, waving your hands a little as you spoke in surrender. Your face felt hot. You were embarrassed to have be caught doing that, and you hoped he didn't think you were strange now.
"Right, yeah. Well, I mean, that's not what I was going to say," he responded, his gaze softening when he noticed your anxious mannerisms. He couldn't help but allow the faintest of grins to grace his lips as he listened to you ramble and watched your hands fidget.
Your eyes widened, and your hands froze in front of you.
"It wasn't?"
"No, it wasn't," he affirmed.
You paused for a moment, swallowing before you frowned.
"Well, what did you want to say?"
"I was going to say," he started, taking a slow step forward, "that I was sorry for snapping at you like that. I was irritated with Nancy, and I shouldn't have taken that out on you. You were just concerned."
Now, you were really confused. This was a far cry from everything you'd come to know about Harrington. Your limited interactions with him were perplexing, to say the least.
You stared at him with scrunched brows, like a puzzle you were trying to decipher, before you began to smile. You let out a weak laugh and nodded.
"I appreciate that. It didn't bother me, really. I've dealt with far worse than attitude," you responded lightly, before tensing.
Shit. Why had you said that? That was way too much information. If he didn't think you were odd before, he probably did now. His expression mirrored yours before he laughed, relieving you of your momentary paralysis.
"You know, you're nothing like Billy. I didn't really buy it when Nancy said the two of you were related," he said, now leaning against Billy's car. Your eyes widened, and you had half a mind to tell him to get the hell off his car. But when your eyes scanned the area and found no sign of your brother, you opted to play it cool and let it go. What Billy didn't know couldn't hurt him, right?
You laughed too, but it was still strained and hindered.
"Well, we're step-siblings, if that helps wrap your mind around it," you offered.
That earned another laugh, his grin bright and eyes filled with intrigue. He snapped his fingers, nodding.
"Yeah, that makes a lot more sense," he responded. He took a moment to look up at the sky before looking back at you.
"It's nice that you care so much. About Nancy," he said quietly.
"She was the first person to really make an effort to talk to me on my first day. I felt like I owed her one," you responded briefly, shrugging your shoulders to downplay the weight of the matter.
"Still, it was nice," Steve says absentmindedly. He doesn't say anything for a little while after that, instead shifting his weight from one foot to another. He didn't seem to be able to sit still.
"What is it? You look like something's on your mind," you ask, a hint of amusement painting your tone. He smiles, shaking his head.
"Forget it. It's stupid."
"I doubt that."
"You'll have to get to know me better, then," he simpered, "because then you'd know that I say a lot of stupid shit."
"Is that an offer or a threat?" you responded softly, grinning whilst your eyes flickered up and down his body, studying him.
He was positively beaming now, his eyes lighting up at the opening you'd given him. It wasn't romantic, he was with Nancy. At least, you were pretty sure it wasn't. It was something else. Something warm, like he'd been given the opportunity to make a real friend. Someone who wasn't constantly worrying about the world ending. Someone normal.
And that was something completely and utterly precious. Because if Steve Harrington could be friends with a normal girl like you, then maybe that meant he wasn't so bad after all. Maybe he could be normal too.
"Harrington, your ass is on my car," Billy drawled.
Shit. Shit, shit, shit, shit—
"Billy! When'd you get here?" You announced with a bright smile, spinning away from Steve to face your stepbrother. Max stood beside him, scowling with her skateboard clutched in her hands. That was a bad sign.
"Just now. Why, did I miss anything worthwhile?" He asked, smugly looking between you and Steve.
You rolled your eyes, hand gently moving to push Max towards the backseat.
"Get in," you mumbled.
Billy was sauntering over to Steve now, hand moving to pluck the cigarette from his lips and toss it to the ground. He made a real show out of stomping it out, preening like a peacock in a display for dominance.
"Stay away from my sisters, got it?"
"Look, man, I was just—" Steve started, but Billy wasn't hearing it. He slammed a hand down on his car, brows raising as if to dare Steve to fight him on it.
You stood behind him, your face burning bright red in humiliation. When Steve saw the expression you wore, he seemed to gain confidence in confrontation. You met his gaze and shook your head slowly, mouthing the word 'don't'.
He scoffed, eventually relenting and turning away from you to stomp off somewhere. You released a breath you hadn't realized you were holding, exchanging another look with Billy before relenting and getting into the car.
Because that's the way things were. The way things would always be. You were weak, and Billy was strong; he was in charge.
Fuck. What the fuck did you just do?
"Mayfield, are you there? Earth to Y/N!" Steve's voice said. You had finally fully come back to reality, eyes wide as you looked up from where you sat on the couch. Steve was stood in front of you, looking the very picture of concerned. His hand was waving in your face, trying to get your attention.
"Is that blood?"
Shit.
You quickly raised your hand to roughly wipe your sleeve across your nose, the red liquid staining your white sweater. You'd have to change later.
"It's nothing," you mumbled, standing abruptly and swiftly walking past him. You weren't quick enough to pull a fast one over his head, though. His hand caught your wrist gently, almost as if he was afraid he'd spook you.
"It's not nothing. You look like you've seen a ghost," he retorted, his brown eyes narrowing. He kept his grip on you firm. It wasn't firm enough to hurt, but enough to tell you that he wasn't going to let this go.
You ignored him, now looking around the room. No sign of Lucas or Dustin. Or Max.
You tensed, your expression turning frantic in an instant.
"Where... where's Max? Where is she? I just saw her on the couch, she was sleeping right there—" you asked, your voice raising in alarm as you tried to pull away from him.
"Mayfield, hey, look at me! Look at me," he said, now moving to grab your shoulders and give you a light shake to ground you.
"She's upstairs," he continued when you met his gaze, "with Lucas. They're getting their stuff together to go to Reefer Rick's."
Relief didn't flood you the way it should've. You needed to see her for yourself, while you were still yourself. You pushed past him and jogged up the stairs swiftly, only stopping when you saw Max sitting at the dining table. You felt the tension begin leave your shoulders, and you carefully approached and sat beside her.
She had her music on and was drawing something with Holly. The sound of Kate Bush's saving grace leaked through the cheap Walkman headphones, giving you reassurance that she was safe for now. The pages were filled with scattered pieces, ones that Nancy had put together as a house.
Your presence startled Max when she felt your hand on her shoulder, and it made your chest ache. When she realized it was you, she sighed and took off her headphones.
"This is what you saw last night?" you asked her, now staring down at the house yourself. You didn't recognize it, but Nancy and Robin did.
"Yeah. Apparently it's that same guy again. Victor Creel. I guess it was his family's house, before they..." she trailed off.
Your hand squeezed her shoulder. The fear in her face was what killed you the most. You desperately longed to tell her it would all be okay; you wanted to tell her that even if they couldn't stop this monster, even if they didn't win this time, it would all be okay. You'd ensured that Max was safe regardless of the outcome.
Of course, you couldn't tell her that. No one could know. Otherwise, she'd try to talk you out of it- and you couldn't have that.
"Alright, then. What are we waiting for? Let's check it out," you announced, standing up with a newfound sense of determination.
Eddie's grocery delivery would have to wait.
"Oh, stop squirming. I'm almost done," you laughed, hands moving to delicately pin Max's hair into place.
"This is hell. I am in hell."
"It can't be hell, otherwise I wouldn't be letting you wear sneakers to your first school dance, Maxine."
Max rolled her eyes, swatting you hand away with a huff of air. She hadn't wanted to go to this 'stupid dance' in the first place, but you convinced her that it would be a good time.
"Just think about how much fun you'll have," you coaxed, "all your friends will be there. Lucas will be there."
Despite her too-cool-for-school front, you noticed the way she avoided eye contact and even smiled at that last bit.
"So?"
"So, maybe he'll ask you to dance," you responded in a sing-song tone, giggling as you sprayed a little of your perfume on her. She gasped at that, her blue eyes comically large. It was your expensive perfume: the one you'd saved up money from the Family Video for weeks to buy and always yelled at her for using.
"For good luck," you mused, beaming as you stepped back to take a look at her.
Max was growing way too fast for your liking. You still saw her as the temperamental toddler that wanted to make mudpies and go on adventures in the creek behind your neighborhood. You saw the eight year old who begged you to take her to the skate park every Saturday. Now, she wore her red hair down instead of in two braids; she wore your sweater and your lip gloss.
You had to look away, feeling yourself get a little misty-eyed. Your eyes landed on Billy, who had been lingered in the hallway unnoticed for some time. The look on his face was hard to read. He almost seemed... proud. For just a moment, he looked like a real older brother.
But of course, that moment was gone as quickly as it came. He looked away, walking straight into his bedroom and shutting the door behind him. You cleared your throat, now turning to face Max once again.
"Oh, look at you! Don't move, let me get my camera," you gasped, running down the hallway into your bedroom.
When you'd dropped her off at the Snow Ball, you'd planned to leave right after. Nancy and Jonathan were volunteering, but you hadn't signed up. Originally, you'd wanted to give Max space. Though, you couldn't help put linger at drop off for a moment, watching her from your car.
Your eyes landed on another, very familiar car. Smiling, you parked in a nearby spot and walked over to Steve's famous Beamer.
"Fancy seeing you here, Harrington," you announced your presence with a coy grin, knocking gently on his window. His eyes flickered to you from where they'd been glued to the gymnasium doors, and he mirrored your expression.
He got out of his car, shutting the door behind him before leaning against the vehicle.
"I could say the same to you, Mayfield," he responded, his arms crossing over his chest.
"Well, I have a little sister. What's your excuse?" you laughed.
"I'm a father of five now, haven't you heard?" he joked, running a hand through his hair as the corners of his mouth turned up.
You bit your lip to contain your snicker, your eyes lighting up.
"Yeah, I heard a thing or two about that. Saw it in action last month, too," you teased lightheartedly.
He hummed, still wearing that boyish grin, but his eyes had wandered elsewhere. You followed his gaze to the gymnasium window, and your eyes landed on Nancy. She was serving punch to all the kids at the dance.
You shouldn't have been surprised by it. Of course he was still hung up on her. Nancy was a lovely girl, and you considered her a close friend. Still, for whatever reason, you felt a sense of unease settling in your chest.
"So... are you gonna go in any time soon? Maybe ask Nancy for a dance?" you asked through a breathy laugh. This one wasn't as natural as the others, and it came a bit forced.
That didn't go unnoticed by Steve. Shockingly, not much did when it came to you. His eyes met yours, and for a moment, it was quiet. You could see the gears turning in his brown eyes, his lips pursed shut.
"Nah. Not Nance, anyways. That ship has sailed," he exhaled.
Your raised a brow as you studied him, clearly not convinced. His mouth twitched.
"I mean it. Honestly, I'd only planned to go in if you were in there."
"Oh really? And why is that?" You asked, but you began to think that you might know the answer to that.
He gave you a lopsided grin, now pushing himself up off the car. He extended a hand in front of him, brows raising.
"Come with me, and I'll show you," he offered, his eyes daring you to take his hand.
It was tempting, but it was also dangerous. You weren't sure how it would look. Steve and Nancy were your friends. Did you have a slight crush the boy? Maybe, but you'd never act on it. It was a phase every girl at Hawkins went through. It would pass, right?
Besides, what would Nancy think? She was with Jonathan, but that didn't mean she would enjoy seeing Steve with you. There wasn't any way of truly knowing how she'd respond.
You'd never been one to indulge yourself on your temptations— but just for this one night, you allowed it. You'd all nearly died a month ago. You had no idea what tomorrow would bring, but you knew moments like this were more important now than ever. Just for tonight, you'd let yourself have this; no worrying about Billy, or Max, or alternate dimension monsters.
"What the hell? I didn't have plans, anyways," you finally relented, feigning nonchalance as you took his hand. You ignored the way it made your face feel a little warmer than usual and the rapidly increasing heartbeat in your chest. You followed behind him closely, and when you got inside, the gymnasium was buzzing with chatter and music.
Every breath you take was playing, making you smile once you caught sight of Max and Lucas slow dancing. They were awkward, but it was adorable. You could see all of the kids paired off now, and your eye was particularly drawn to Nancy, who was dancing with Dustin.
You exchanged a look with Steve before the two of you burst into a small fit of laughter. Dustin noticed Steve, beaming and waving at him. Steve gave an encouraging thumbs up before turning to you once more.
"So, what'd you have in mind for me, Harrington?" you asked, trying not to think about the way his hand still held yours.
"Oh, you really need me to spell it out?" he answered, coyly grinning as he led you out to the dance floor.
Your eyes widened once you realized his intentions, and your face flushed.
"Oh, no, no, no, Steve, I don't think—"
"It's one dance, Mayfield. Haven't you ever let yourself have fun before?"
"I-I have plenty of fun!" you stammered back.
"Then this should be a piece of cake," he argued, gently pulling you close to him.
You exhaled deeply before putting your arms around his neck. His hands found the small of your waist, and he led you in the slow dance across the floor.
"See, look at that. You're a natural," he mumbled with a soft smile.
You returned his smile, shaking your head with a barely audible laugh.
"I haven't done this in years. Not since I was Max's age, anyways," you said, your eyes flickering to Max before looking back up at Steve, "thank you."
HIs eyes flashed with curiosity, a crease forming on his forehead.
"For what?"
"This. Dancing with me. I can only imagine what it'll do to your reputation," you said.
He scoffed, rolling his eyes.
"Yeah, well, screw my reputation."
"Steve, don't pretend like you don't care about that."
"I don't," he answered earnestly, "not anymore. I used to, but, I don't know. The past few months have taught me that some things are more important than that."
Your pupils dilated, and your lips formed a thin line as you stared at him and took in his words.
"Really? Like what?"
He laughed, shaking his head. Was he blushing?
You didn't get to find out, because he spun you around in the dance to take the attention away from himself. You shrieked with laughter that echoed his, your body pressed to his once he pulled you back.
"Just... some things are, Mayfield. Some things."
The car squealed to a stop upon arriving at the abandoned Creel house. You'd insisted on driving, mostly to avoid Steve. He was still staring at you, his brown eyes swimming with questions. You, meanwhile, kept your gaze firmly fixed on the road ahead; your eyes only strayed briefly to check in the rearview mirror to make sure Max still had her headphones on.
You ignored the way your head seemed to be constantly pounding, instead opting to take a handful of painkillers. When you'd finally gotten to the house, you nearly jumped out of the car and slammed the door behind you. Your fidgeted impatiently, waiting for everyone to get out of their vehicle.
The house had an ominous presence. The yard and stone stairs were overgrown with moss and weeds, and the house was coated in dust and cobwebs. You charged up the stairs and listened to the way the floorboards creaked beneath your feet when you got onto the porch. The rest of the squad followed soon behind, with Steve lurking in the front.
"Yeah, that's not creepy," Steve said dryly once he'd gotten up the stairs.
"Do you still have that hammer?" You asked, ignoring him.
His brows furrowed.
"I mean, yeah. Why do you—"
"I need it," you interrupted.
He huffed at your attitude, but complied after a second of hesitation. His hand reached for the bag and handed it to you. When you got it, you began prying nails from the locked front door.
"What exactly are we supposed to be looking for in this shithole?" he asked, lingering behind you.
"We're not sure," Nancy answered, "we just know this house is important to Vecna."
"Because Max saw it in her... red soup mind-world?"
"Basically," she answered.
"Great."
"Maybe it holds a clue to where Vecna is, why he's back, why he killed the Creels," Dustin interjected, offering theories for potential solutions.
"—and how to stop him before he comes back for Max," you finished, letting out a grunt as you ripped out the last nail.
"We... don't think he'd in here, do we?" Lucas asked.
Your body seemed to freeze at that, your breath catching in your throat.
"Guess we'll find out," Max responded flatly.
"Ready?" Steve asked you, his eyes meeting yours. With a nod of affirmation, the two of you ripped the board of the door down.
After Robin unceremoniously used a brick to break the window and unlock the door, the group walked inside. You began to split off in pairs, and you allowed Max to go with Lucas. After Robin hurriedly paired with Nancy, it left you, Steve, and Dustin.
"Why don't you go on with Nance and Robin?" Steve asked.
"Seriously, man? The hell is wrong with you?" Dustin groaned.
You tried to interrupt, to tell Steve you wanted Dustin to accompany you because it would maybe save you from his endless questioning, but Steve was quicker.
"Dude, this has nothing to do with you! Can you just do as I say, just this once?" Steve pleaded.
The room went quiet, and you'd expected Dustin to fight him on it. Instead, the boy just mumbled under his breath and followed after the two girls.
You and Steve were alone now. You did your best to avoid his eyes, instead focusing on the task at hand and shining your flashlight on different objects.
"So, are we just not going to talk about it, then?"
"There's nothing to talk about," you said lamely.
"Oh, I think there's plenty to talk about, and you know it," he shot back in a whisper, his eyes falling on the blood on your sleeve. He glanced around for a moment before taking a deep breath and allowing his hand to brush yours.
You felt that same warmth again, a momentary reprieve from the inner turmoil and fear you felt inside.
"Mayfield, please. Talk to me. What the hell happened back there?"
Oh, how you wanted to tell him. You wanted to tell him everything. You wanted to tell him about the deal, tell him about your eminent death, tell him about the feelings you'd harbored for years—
Tears were prickling in your eyes now, prompting you to turn your head away and pull your hand from his.
"It was just a nosebleed, Steve. That's it," you whispered sharply. The lump in your throat made your voice sound unsteady, and you cursed yourself for it.
"And in the car? Your headaches? I saw you swallow a handful of pills," Steve retorted, running a hand through his hair in frustration at your avoidance.
"People get headaches, Steve! What is your problem right now?" You snapped back, eyes wide as you turned to face him. You hadn't expected your voice to raise so much. From the way he flinched, he hadn't either, but Steve wasn't backing down.
"My problem is that you are clearly lying! You're hiding something, and I know it has to do with Vecna! You're doing all the freaky shit Max was doing before she started levitating," he yelled back, face flushed as he stepped closer to you. He was in your personal space now, which only heightened the anger and charge between you two.
"Guys—" Dustin started.
"Did you see him? Is he after you? Because if that twisted bastard is after you, you have to tell me."
"Steve, it's nothing! Just let it go!" You shot back, hands moving to push him away, but he caught them and held them firmly.
"—guys—" Dustin tried a little louder.
"I can't let it go, not when I think you're in danger and you're not telling anyone! How could I possibly let that go? Jesus, I'm worried about you!"
"You shouldn't be worried, because like I told you, it's nothing!"
"GUYS!" Dustin boomed.
"What?!" The two of you yelled back in unison, turning to face Dustin.
"You have to see this."
Dustin ran upstairs after announcing that, and the two of you remained fixed in place. Steve was breathing heavily, and so were you. Your face felt hot with anger and something you couldn't quite articulate. Eventually, you pulled yourself from his grasp.
"Please, don't worry about me. It's nothing. If it was something, of course I'd tell the group. What, do you think I have a death wish or something?" You asked with a forced and breathy laugh, trying to lighten the mood.
The joke didn't land, and Steve was staring at you intensely.
You sighed deeply, your hand moving to rub the bridge of your nose.
"Why won't you just drop this, Steve?"
His eyes didn't leave you, but they seemed more troubled than before. When he spoke, his voice was hoarse.
"Because I care about you."
Your eyes were stinging again, but you didn't look away. You just smiled, because you couldn't bear the sight of him looking so distraught.
"I know. I care about you too. If it were something, I'd tell you," you whispered. The pain in your chest and your throat felt agonizing, and you felt like the worst person in the world right now. You were certain that the guilt was written all over your face.
After a long stretch of silence, he spoke.
"Promise me, then. Promise me you're not lying."
Your eyes widened, and for a moment, you hesitated.
But then, the lie fell off your tongue like saccharine.
"I promise."
a/n: thank you for all the love on this story! i'm glad people care about it as much as i do. i plan to probably make a part 4 and end it at part 5. stay tuned!
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