PROUD OF YOU
'To the center of my soul,
you better bring a light'
PT1/2 of Proud and Prouder
Pairing: Steve Harrington/Reader (Fem presenting)
Summary: Steve and reader have been together for some time now. She's seen him grow and change, and she's really really proud of him for getting where he is now. Is he able to accept that?
Content: S5, Steve's parents mentioned, mostly pg but lots of innuendos, whump but also fluff!!! I love making Steve cry. I will do it again, sorry not sorry. Steve is in L-O-V-E with his girl. Set soon after the upside down is defeated, but around a year before the epilog scene.
WC: 5.6k
A/N: This may be my first fic on this new account but it is certainly not the first I've ever written. I just felt the need to re start, what better time than the new year and the new beginning (ending) of Stranger Things. I love this fandom to bits and peices and I hope that this helps you all cope lol!
April 1988
Practiced hands grip the shiny new steering wheel loosely as Steve pulls into a driveway he is all too familiar with. Only not like he used to be. It isn't high school and he's not who he once was, and he's glad.
The both of you are long over due for a little one-on-one date night, and you've chosen to stay in together.
"Steve!" You're running out the front door and squealing in excitement before he's fully reached over the seat and pushed open the passenger door for you. "This is yours?" You're barreling into the brand new leather interior and shutting the door, fingers running over everything they can reach. You were a little taken aback when he said he'd be picking you up tonight. Steve has been without his trusty ride for a little while now.
"Hey! Careful- don't slam it!" He swats your hand and you just about die when he reaches that same arm over the back of your seat and turns to back up. "Just got the thing, I need it to last." Walking to work had been a bitch. Especially since Steve still felt partial to upkeeping what was left of his reputation. Lucky for him, Hawkins is quite a walkable town, and you got to pull a roll reversal and drive him wherever when you were able.
"Bout time you got rid of that beamer anyway." Of course he hadn't willingly gotten rid of it, it only took a black hole to rip it away from him. You laughed, but it was bittersweet. Everyone else might've hated it for being a rich-boy car, but it was his and you had been grateful to receive many a ride when you needed it, just as everyone else. It got you thinking. "So two seats is a bit of a downgrade, huh?" You're still running a finger over the double-stitched seem of the soft beige leather beside your thigh.
"Eh, I thought about it but-" He sighed, holding the steering a little tighter. "Only really need two seats now." Its true, as much as you wish it wasn't. Everyone was spreading out, taking opportunities they didn't have back then, growing, learning. With graduation for the kids being only a little over a year away, it was even more real. "…I'll miss it though." It was no mystery to you, why he'd chosen the path he was content on now. Coaching and teaching and getting involved, staying in the town he used to swear he hated.
"I'd be worried if you didn't." Something you miss means it was something worth your while. Steve Harrington had a lot of regrets in life, but he would never want to have spent that time any other way. He'd do it all again a million times over.
"So you like it?" He starts. "The truck?"
He receives a confident nod. "Its beautiful, and it sounds beautiful too." You answered. "…really suits you." Not just the truck, but this look on him. New job, first house, new truck, long-term relationship and goals and plans for the future. He's thriving, and you hope he sees how accomplished he has become, and how accomplished he's going to be.
He mirrored your nod, pressing his lips together before speaking. "My dad always wanted me to go where the money was, business or law or stuff like that, but…" He was trying not to be glum, because he wasn't, he was so so grateful to be where he was right now. It showed. "Coaches salary is pretty sweet. I mean, it got me this." He gestured, one hand still on the wheel.
"It also gets you this." You reached to swipe at the upward tilted corner of his lips. He smiled harder when you did so, swatting you away again.
"Nuh uh, you get me that." He corrected, pulling into his current abode, it was nice to know someone was still close by, especially your boyfriend.
"Both is good." You're smiling too now as he cuts the engine and leans over, clashing your lips together like you have so many times before. He does it with enough fervor that for a second you think he might just christen the damn vehicle with you right now. "Hmph- you smell nice." You mumble into his mouth, pulling back. "Is this new?"
"Coaches salary." He explains with an even wider grin, pulling you into his lap, khaki pants you once said you hated, but Steve made them work, really well.
"Wait- so you're out here buying fancy cologne before the new vehicle you needed so badly?" You fight his grip a little, planning to let off once he answers.
"Bought 'em both today." He silences you with a kiss as you both meet lips again and you let up. Boy is this guy a fan of his new bench seats. He may have lost the backseat advantage, but he also lost the center console. A win is a win.
He keeps you in his arms all the way through to his bedroom. You thank the heavens every day that you no longer have to suffer that headache inducing plaid on plaid nightmare that is Mrs. Harringtons interior decorator. He's thankful too.
"Hey you decorated!" You squeal as he throws you gently onto the most soft and fluffy comforter you've ever felt. Steve had been pretty satisfied with the bachelor pad vibe he had going- even though he had a whole girlfriend. Lucky for you, the bachelor style didn't last longer than a few weeks. He had always had a plan. "Thought you might do the minimalist thing a bit longer." It went a little backwards- having to move out before getting a vehicle. But in bieng shut out on his own, Steve wouldn't accept any offers you made to help or have him move in, so the house came first. Having some leftover savings from his other jobs helped, but he mostly worked his ass off.
"Need I say it again?" He shuts the door, even though there really is no need. Independence is funny that way. "Coach…" face buried in one side of your neck. "…salary." And then the other side, licking and biting and sucking.
But money wasn't the only thing that enabled him to finally decorate and live the way he wanted. It helped to have the right support system, and he had always had that as long as he'd known you, rocky at times, but always there. What really set the ball rolling was the newfound freedom. His parents never kept a close eye on him, mostly because they weren't around to do so. But they still set a terribly high expectations towards their son. Slowly he learned how to make things his own, and it was amazing to see in real time. He could breathe now. Well- not currently as he was buried in his girlfriends neck.
"Mm- hey-" You slowly peel him off you, laying side by side on his brand new bedding. "Show me around?" You ask, even though you spent almost every day at his new place, you haven't seen it like this- in his own light.
"What?" He looks at you like your face just opened up. "Baby you've seen every angle of this place, I know because-" He feels a hand meet his mouth. Promise ring cold on his skin, also thanks to his nice job.
"We get it, you know how to get in my pants a hundred different ways in just a few weeks." You roll your eyes, only pulling the hand away when he darts his tongue out, swiping it in his habitually practiced way. "Gross."
"No- I have gotten in your pants a hundred different ways in just a few weeks," He corrects, because he's changed but he'll always be cocky. "-and you like my tongue."
"Gross again." You digress. "Steve, I haven't seen since before you decorated- I just thought you might enjoy telling me about it." He insisted on picking everything and getting it all done himself so that he could surprise you with the finished project, which also meant not coming over for a couple days. That was the worst kind of torture.
"Okay." He accepted, propping himself up on a muscular arm. "I would enjoy it." He confirmed honestly, looking around the room with pursed lips before he officially started the tour. "M'not done yet though…" He sighed, turning to face you properly. "…just bought a truck, so, funds are low." But it wasn't hard to admit. He had so much to show for it, so much to gain.
"That's okay." You smile in anticipation. "Just means I get to hear about it again, and I get to see the progress." He can't pinpoint where its attributed, but he wants to guess the 'ending' of things recently has made you rather optimistic. He feels it too, but he sees it in you. In the way your eyes have enough light for the both of you in them, the way your smile comes so naturally now. "You know…" you glanced down where his hand was tracing lines on the comforter, slowly intertwining your own, holding his focus on you now. "I used think that maybe there'd be a time when- a time that I may never get to see that, the progress."
He swallowed, blinking back his agreement with a sigh. "Yeah." He dipped his head, enclosing you under him once more- this time gentler, softer. "Glad we both made it." He pressed an equally careful kiss to your lips. "Really glad."
Your head fell back into the soft new bedding. "Mhm?" Both free hands reached for his hair as sincere brown eyes looked up at you from your chest. "Gonna show me around now?" One finger rested under his chin now, thumb swiping gently over his bottom lip. "Tell me the story about everything." You'd always loved sharing that way, and you would certainly never take it for granted. Living out both your stories together was something you thought might end much sooner- in fact you'd been so confident in it when you saw your boyfriend hang on for dear life off the side of that tower.
Steve always felt he might take one final triumphant hit for someone he loved. Maybe you, maybe his best friend- but he'd become so selfless he'd have done it for anyone now. Falling off the side of that tower for no one- no purpose, no service- was scarier than the drop. "Alright babe-" His arms swept under your waist and before you knew it he was excitedly carrying you around the place. For a moment you heard the Steve you met years ago, throwing around that pet name like it didn’t mean he was eternally whipped for you. The truth had always been ever-evident in his eyes, then and now. "Time for the Harrington tour." For the third time today you squealed at him.
"Okay, here-" He started at the front door, still holding you. "-is the portal into only the most humble abode." He ends up showcasing the very well received skill of holding your weight with one toned arm. "Simple but effective." He points each item out carefully. "Shoes go here, coats here- but there is that closet too- keys here…oh!" He stops, fishing into his pocket. "Got you something special today too," He puts you down gracefully so he can properly present it to you. If you didn't know better you'd think he was proposing, seeing the way he was beginning to kneel down.
"Steve- what are you doing?" You giggled, peering down at his clasped hands. "I thought this was a tour."
"It is," He opens his hands. "But I wanted you to have something…" He raises a decorated key-ring up to your own hand, presenting presumably a house key, another Chevy branded key, and a photo frame charm he'd carefully chosen. "I know you always knew where the spare was, at my parents place but- this is different for us." Different for him, he finally had something of his own and he chose to share it so readily with you.
"So, this one is the house-" Hot pink and bold like yourself. He stands close to you now, explaining and pointing to each component that sat in the palm of your hand. "And uh, just incase for some reason you need it… this is the second truck key the dealership gave me- I just, I realized that I didn't want it sitting in some drawer or something I wanted-" He scrubbed a hand over his face, sighing. "I wanted you to have it. I want us to share things." You nodded patiently with a full heart as he moved on to the keychain. "And uh, when I was getting the house key made they had these and I just thought of you, thought of exactly what two pictures would be perfect for this."
There the both of you were, inside a little double-sided plastic photo frame. The first side you look at face up in your palm is maybe the first picture you ever took together. Steve was more sentimental than he'd like to admit- you knew it because he'd been so upset about the few photos forever lost to the glove compartment of the beamer.
But this one had been in his bedside table drawer since the winter of '84, he mentally thanks Dustin every day for taking it. He's standing behind you, fixing your dress to chaperone the snow ball. It's a low quality instant photo, back when the two of you were only defined as friends and Steve was still rightfully caught up in the remnants of his last relationship. But it didn't change how fondly you remembered what he said in that moment. A casual 'stop fussing with it, you look beautiful' before asking you to stand still so he could fix it to your liking once more. He didn't want to go with you and Dustin but he was always part of the moment, you never would blame him for wanting to stay out of it that day. He showed up for what mattered, took care of you and made sure you arrived and returned safely. And he continued to look out for you more fiercely from then on with each passing day.
On the other side of the charm is a much newer photo by a few years time. You're looking at the camara and Steve is looking at you. December of '87, the Wheeler family had invited everyone to a celebratory Christmas get together. You remember it vividly now because it was only months ago. Steve telling you that it was his favourite, and Jonathan saying he was really happy with the composition, that he wanted to start a collection of 'afters'. Everyone, the whole party, after the end and during the new beginning like a sort of 'where are they now?' There, in that moment of celebration, Steve seems to only be worried about celebrating you, sharing the moment with you. Where is he now? Right where he needs- wants to be. A beginning and a newer beginning lay flat in the palm of your hand.
"…yeah, your favourite, right?" You look up at him, this time blinking back your own agreement. "Steve I-"
"-look I know that it's a lot to give you all at once, it's a lot to share. I know that," He feels the need to explain himself. "But- I want to. I'd like us to." The admission has you clutching the gift to your chest as he speaks. "And I thought since we've been together for so long now, that you deserve to have things like this." He covers your clutched hand in his own, right over your heart. "I've been in love with you for so long now. I trust you. And it's been so hard to say it just like that…" Your hands are sandwiched between eachothers chests now, Steve's thoughtful gift in the middle of it all.
"But I hope that this shows it. And I hope it shows that you can trust me too, to keep giving us things like this." He's speaking hushed now, partially because you're so close together and partially because he's a little shy to admit it, to put so much on the line. But Steve has always put everything on the line for you. Everything.
It comes so easy now, the way your lips meet his in a slow unspoken 'thank you'. Your new set of keys jingles as you throw an arm around his back. He's grown so fond of the very real future that he wants to do everything he can to ensure he keeps it, that you're there with him every step of the way. "I trust you, Stevie." You confirm, incase for some reason he had any inclination of doubt- you don't know why he ever would.
"M'glad you trust me too, with all this." Its clear that your statement isn't only limited to the house and truck- it is much much more than that. There's things the lot of you have been through and witnessed that are so unexplainable and inconsolable, with the exception of those that have been through it too. Steve has not only been there with you and alongside you, but you've seen everything- including the aftermath. Every single time. And the fact that he has had enough confidence in you that you know and have seen his struggles and keep them between the two of you, the confidence that you will know just what to do for him and just how to make it hurt less, that's trust.
He has a sort of downturned smile on his face when you let go, watching you happily stuffing the personalized gift into your coat pocket. "What, you're not gonna take that thing for a spin?" He jokes but you can feel a slight dampness on the shoulder of your shirt.
"Some other day." You decide, Steve knew you would take it for a joyride eventually, having a penchant for powerful and loud vehicles didn't just stop at muscle cars. "Let's finish the tour." You take his hand in yours and once more he shows you through the house. It's minimal for now, a few tasteful changes made to each room. But Steve has had more than a lot on his plate these days.
The front hallway has an assortment of picture frames leaning against the wall ready for new memories. The living room has gained a few tasteful throw pillows and blankets along with a coffee table. His own room is decorated with that lovely new bedding you laid on earlier, and two matching night tables. He explains each thing with enthusiasm and a little bashfullness. You don't miss the extra brand new toothbrush and holder in the bathroom that goes unmentioned, or an empty drawer that he just so happens to open up as he explains where everything came from and why he liked it for the house.
Finally he's in the kitchen, which has just gained enough plates and cups for a dozen people. "So the coach can shop and decorate… does the coach cook, too?" You ask slyly as he takes the opportunity to sit you up on the counter. A hand resting on each thigh.
You remember when the two of you used to get takeout every friday night. No Harrington parents were ever around, so naturally there was no dinner unless Steve provided for himself. Then takeout became tv dinners, which became 'just add water' pre-packaged recipes, which became real recipes and home cooked meals. Every dish he cooked was out of love. "Anything you want." He thinks if it weren't for you and the kids he would still be eating tv dinners.
You purse your lips in thought and he takes the opportunity to peck them lightly before you make a suggestion. "You remember when you first started cooking for us? You made pasta with this homemade sauce-" Simple but Steve had done it for you, and it was unapologetically your comfort dish. Which was really annoying considering he wouldn't disclose to anyone how to make the sauce. The kids had started retaliating by calling it mama Harringtons secret recipe. "Can we have that again?"
"We can have that every day." He says, already pushing off the counter and getting to work. He's forgotten to mention in his home improvement tour that there's now an apron in the building. You try not to chuckle at the slogan across the front. "I will make you all the pasta you want."
He's grabbing pots and measuring cups and ingredients and you're giggling to yourself about your beautiful boyfriend in his little apron. "Kiss the cook?" You pry, still in your spot on the counter as he turns towards the stove top and sets the water to boil. You have a great view now.
"Well if you insist." He pecks your lips again like he had just moments ago. Any effort of poking fun at his clothing choice had gone out the window. Steve was unapologetically being exactly who he wanted- and you would much rather share that energy than the teasing remark you'd just made.
"Gonna be doing a lot more than kissing the cook if you keep making delicious food just for me." You toyed with the neatly tied bow on the back of his neck, he began to flush a light pink that matched the font on his chest. You have the most evil look in your eye and he can't look away. "Might need to get a new apron…'fuck the cook'." He matches your smirk at the idea even though he's profusely blushing. Steve was often told he sported a harsh and up-front flirting game. But you were arguably just as bad if not worse.
"I'd like that." He nods curtly, trying to pay attention to the food rather than his libido. "Hey- you better not be watching too closely over there," He nods to you from the far side of the counter where he's measuring out ingredients.
"Oh I'm watching closely alright." You ogled at him and the flush only rose to his cheeks. By the time he was plating up a serving for each of you, the tips of his ears were red as the pasta sauce.
"Babe, you wanna put on a record or a tape or sumthin'?" He still manages to be sauve with his face entirely flushed by the way you've been shooting comments his way all night. "Moved it all out underneath that new coffee table but you can bring the player in here if you want."
You hop off your perch where you've been observing him. Sifting through music for a few minutes while Steve set up. There was quite a variety now, a combination of everyone he'd met these past few years. The small record collection in Steve's junior year bedroom was minimal, filled with pop radio hits and every Bob Seger album ever. You'd bought him the new release in '86 and he was so thrilled to recieve a gift that really represented him for the first time.
The collection has tripled in size after meeting you. Music has been such a huge part of Steve's life since then because it was huge part of yours. There's one tape he always hangs on to just in case, you dont know if its sweet or if he should move on- but 'Hounds of Love' is still in the original plastic wrap from the day he bought it in '86. You hope for everyone's sake that it stays that way. But the ever-prepared Steve Harrington is always ready to be there for people, and if that helps him sleep at night then Kate Bush is welcome to the music collection. You don't want to know if the nail bat is under his new bed, or perhaps tucked behind the bench seat of his new Chevy.
"You picked one yet?" Steve is setting your respective plates down, speaking just loud enough to reach the living room. You can think about that later. A few memories don't destroy the fact that Steve has come so far from who he was when he hammered the first nail into that baseball bat. So far that he was now teaching young boys- years younger than he was at the time- how to properly hold and swing a bat. Without the nails, of course. And only at the ball, not at open-faced monsters. That had been a very possible reality for a little while there.
The record player is setup on the kitchen counter playing Scorpions 'Savage Amusement' This one must've been new to the collection, you'd never seen it here before, you also hadn't gotten around to picking up their newest release so obviously you had to listen. Steve liked that about you, he liked a lot about you but anyway- he has not and will not ever meet someone who can name such a diverse amount of artists as you and still be able to discover and enjoy more. You loved it all, but you were unapologetically a rocker through and through.
"Where'd you get this one anyway?" You're scanning the album track list as you both stand in front of the player you've just set up.
"Grabbed it when I got all the other stuff." He said gently pulling you towards the table and getting your chair for you as you sat down. "Thought you might like to have something for you here." He'd already confessed to thinking of you several times while he was out, but here he was saying for the umpteenth time that another thing reminded him of his girl.
"What? I like your music." You said from across the small circular dining table.
"I know, but I like yours too, we should have more of it here." He shrugs as if it's no big deal. He went out and grabbed a new release of one of your favourite bands just to make sure you didn't have it yet and so that you could listen to it for the first time together. No big deal.
"Looks good." You gestured to the niceley presented plate infront of yourself. "I'll bring you some albums, then." But the albums were only part of it, he just liked the idea of you bieng around, a lot. "Thank you for this, I've really been missing your cooking." No time was wasted in taking the first bite.
"You're welcome babe, anytime." But 'anytime' had gotten quite sparse in his pursuit of everything else. And honestly- any free time was utilized quite lustfully. He was working hard to provide for himself and get on the path he wanted, work towards a future he would enjoy. One you could enjoy with him. So you hadn't had at-home dinner dates or any dinner dates for a while now. Of course you hadn't complained, you could entertain yourself just fine during the time apart. It was just endlessly frustrating living so close and not being able to make time between the both of you.
"Well I hope so, you did tell me I could have your special pasta every day." You reminded him.
"You don't think you'd get tired of it?" He really would make it every day if that's what you wanted.
"Maybe, but then you'd come up with something else just as good." You twisted your fork around in the noodles. "I'm not worried." Steve didn't give you a lot to be worried about these days. He was good like that.
He did some quick cleaning up afterwards, flipping the record to side B before joining you on the couch. Full of good food and true love, he pulled a new blanket over the both of you. "You don't want dessert or anything?" He inquired, already cozied into the couch next to you.
"Not now that we're both comfortable." You laughed but he propped himself up on both arms over you, ready to get up.
"No, I can get it for you," He insisted. "You sure you don't want something?"
"Lay back down" You placed a hand to his back and pushed lightly until he fell back onto your chest begruidingly. "I don't want dessert I want to lay with my guy."
"Babe are you sure-"
"Steven."
"M'kay." He said, cheek pressed into your shoulder as he got more comfortable. "As you wish." He sighed softly, warm breath hitting your collar bone. You'd felt that before, but never in a moment so innocent. You think this is your favourite.
"You've been treating me all day. Relax." Your hand drew aimlessly across his back as you assured him.
"Dinner is hardly all day." He argued without much bite.
"You've treated me to a ride in the new truck, my very own set of keys, a detailed tour of all the changes to the house, I got to watch you cook dinner for us and you even bought us a brand new album to share while we dined." You were almost out of breath after listing all the wonderful things he'd done in only a few hours. "And now, we're finishing the record while we lay together. That's the best evening a girl could ask for." Though he'd had many girls in the past still expect more, he's sure you're being honest when you say so.
"Glad you're impressed with it, thank you." He says, face pushed further into you if that was even possible.
"Impressed? Baby, I'm proud!" You exclaimed, causing him to lift his head up a little, your hand halting on his back.
"Hmm?" He squints in confusion like he heard you wrong.
"I have seen you work so hard to get all this and tonight it really shows how much all that effort paid off." You told him in the sincerest tone he might have ever heard. He may be slightly hard of hearing now days due to upside-down related events, but that was loud and clear. "You got a Job you love, your own place, and a shiny new ride in such a short span of time. And you're already planning so much further ahead talking about getting a trailer and another place and-"
"Yeah well it was about time I got my shit together." He said unimpressed.
"About time? Steve you've been doing everything for everyone and trying to live two lives and make a future for yourself, and god- I'm just proud alright?" It was hard to believe he couldn't see that in the way your face got brighter just talking about it.
"Everyone else has been living two lives too, they're in just about the same spot as me." Nothing special about it. Nothing to be proud about. But that was ridiculous considering they had someone to fall back on. Steve had fended for himself almost every step of the way. That didn't stop you from being proud of the rest of your friends too but…the difference was in who could accept it.
"Look at me." He didn't listen, staring towards the floor rather than your face. "Steve, look at me." He was facing you now, eyes focused on the wall just above your head. "…please?"
Every time you met his eyes tonight they got softer. "I'm just saying, I should have all this stuff by now anyway. If I didn't I'd be behind." There was his que to stop talking, right when the last syllable betrayed his casual confidence.
"Just listen to me, alright?" Your hand clasped his shoulder. "You have been doing for everyone else this whole time. You watch out for these kids better than most parents- which is why most of them are still here today. You became a chauffeur, an advice counselor, a best friend, what ever they needed. I saw you do it all." And then your own voice cracked just a little. "Even with no one to come home too. Even with no one watching out for you." He couldn't stop his eyes from welling up again as you spoke with such love. "For years. That's what you did every day. You made a real difference in everyone's lives, in my life too, and now you get to do that same thing as a job. Every day you work with these young kids and make an impact on their lives. I see you work so hard to provide for yourself when you shouldn't have even had to do it that way." He was flushed as bad as earlier but for a whole different, much more bittersweet reason now.
"You did this." You pressed a finger to the center of his chest. "All on your own. And I am so proud." He practically melted into you, unable to stop the tears of acceptance anymore.
It sank in as you pressed your face to his hair, mumbling. "So, so proud of you Stevie." You could feel his chest rise and fall rapidly against your own.
Something was lifted off of his shoulders, every time you repeated that you were proud it got lighter and lighter. He couldn't hold any of it in anymore. He'd set the bar so high, striving to impress people that shouldn't even matter. They hadn't helped, in fact the whole reason he had to get a place was because he'd been thrown out on his own. And he still managed to stay afloat, just barely at times.
Though tears were flowing steadily, he still spoke through sobs against your chest, wetting your shirt. "I love you." His shoulders shook.
"I love you too. And I'm proud of you, don't forget it hun." The house silenced except for Steve's stiffled cries as the last chords of 'Believe in Love' rung out from the kitchen.
©ROCKSURWORLD copying others work is not rock n' roll!
Lyrics: Scorpions-Walking On The Edge
Albums mentioned: Kate Bush-Hounds of love, Scorpions-Savage Amusement
Character(s): Stranger Things
Graphics: Pinterest, Stranger Things
Dividers by @chrisssiren
