SOULMATES — STEVE HARRINGTON
masterlist
pairing: steve harrington x reader, platonic!eddie x reader
descriptions: for someone who so totally isn’t crushing on his best friend, steve harrington is not a fan of her close friendship with eddie fucking munson.
tags/warnings: jealous!steve, swearing, eddie is flirty but ur friendship is platonic, reader uses she/her pronouns, steve is pathetic and silly and overreacts because he’s so down bad
author’s note: ok so i may or may not have essentially dreamt this scenario & woken up half remembering it but determined to put it down for u all … please enjoy and pleaaaaase let me know what you think!!!
———
Steve isn’t sure you’ve ever bounded into Family Video quite so enthusiastically. Nor has he ever seen you move quite so quickly.
Your hair is frazzled, your eyes blown wide, and your whole body lit up with energy as you skip to the counter and lean your elbows on it.
“Hey Stevie,” you hum, “Figured I’d come say hi on my break to tell you this crazy story about last night.”
You worked just down the road from Family Video, in a small diner that required you to wear a traditional (and yet crazily short) waitress’ uniform that showed off your legs frustratingly well.
Not that he was ever looking.
You often found yourself spending lunch breaks loitering around Steve when you were on shift at similar times, and he’d return the favour shortly after when he took his break.
It was a routine that you both loved, but one that had fallen away a little recently as you’d been moving around your shifts more and taking on fewer of them while you studied part-time.
It wasn’t like you didn’t still spend a ridiculous amount of time together, though — Steve’s was like a second home to you, and yours to him, and any day you didn’t see eachother would at least end with an hour long phone call full of gossip and mindless chattering.
Not last night, though. He’d called, but with no answer.
He’d even considered driving by your place just to see if you were home — but he decided against it. That would be way too intense.
Steve nods, his brow quirking up curiously as he waits for you to elaborate.
You’re obviously free to do whatever you like, whenever you like, and with whoever you like… But he’ll be damned if he’s not intrigued to know where you were last night.
“So I’m at Eddie’s, right?” you begin, and you watch as his eyes widen and his jaw clenches.
He scoffs, “You were at Eddie’s?”
You nod, furrowing your brows at his reaction, “Yeah, we all went back after the gig?”
“After the gig?”
“Yeah, dummy, after the Corroded Coffin gig,” your chin is resting on one palm, and the other waves at him as if his cluelessness is ridiculous, “I told you I was going to their show last night. Remember?”
He doesn’t remember, but he’s sure he recalls you telling him off for falling asleep intermittently on the phone a few nights ago and giving you mumbled answers.
“No, I don’t remember,” he shakes his head, expression still tense, “And I think I’d remember you telling me you’d be with Eddie.”
Your hands are on your hips now, irritation evident on your face, “Okay, what the hell is your problem and why do you keep saying Eddie’s name like that? I totally did tell you, you just obviously weren’t listening.”
Steve takes in a sharp breath, watching the frustration in your features as he conjures up his excuse.
“I didn’t know you were close enough to be hanging round at his trailer,” he huffs.
He shouldn’t be annoyed by that fact, and he hates that the feeling in his stomach at the thought of you in the confined space of Eddie’s trailer can definitely be read loud and clear as jealousy even by himself.
He knew you were friends with Eddie and that you had plenty in common — he’d noticed as much every time the curly-haired boy loitered around you when the whole gang hung out — but not that you were that close.
You roll your eyes, unimpressed, “What, like I wasn’t hanging out in your room like a week after we met? Alone, for that matter!”
He remembers that time well.
When you’d first met, he was enamoured with you, and he loved that you’d clicked so quickly and dragged him straight out of the hole of wallowing he’d found himself in post-Nancy.
He’d told himself the crush he harboured when you first got close was just situational and that it had long gone, but he knew that wasn’t the case really.
He was just grateful to have such a good friend and so he’d shoved those feelings where they couldn’t resurface — until today, apparently.
“Well he’s obviously got a thing for you, inviting you back to his trailer after his gig, acting like the big rockstar after a show to, like, six people,” he pouts, and as he says the words he feels increasingly pathetic for how he’s acting, but he can’t help it, “Did you stay the night?”
It’s your turn to scoff now, and you fold your arms over your chest as you see his eyes grow shy while he awaits your answer.
You shake your head, “You’re ridiculous. I didn’t go to his trailer alone, he does not have a thing for me, and he dropped me home right when everyone else left, smartass.”
“So you’re not screwing Munson?”
“You know what, I’ll tell you my story when you’ve got your head out of your ass,” you huff, turning on your heel to leave the store, “My break’s basically over, anyway.”
He’s an idiot. And he knows he’s an idiot.
But the niggling fear that something’s going on between you and Eddie has unsettled his stomach and he does not like that one bit.
—
The hour that follows before Steve has his own lunch break passes agonisingly slowly.
He’s tapping his fingers on the counter, a pen between his teeth as he pretends to read today’s returns list with at least some semblance of interest.
His mind, though, is on you and on the fact he knows you’re pissed off with him for overreacting about your friendship with Eddie and he doesn’t know how he’ll explain it when he grovels for your forgiveness.
As the door dings open and Robin walks in to start her shift, he finally lets out an apprehensive sigh of relief.
“Hey dingus. Why do you look like you’re gonna crap your pants right now?” she asks, eyes glinting with humour as she furrows her brow.
Steve shakes his head, “I need to speak to Y/N about something. It’s important.”
At that, the humour in her eyes meets her smile and she lets out a small laugh, “Uh oh, lovers quarrel?”
“Something like that,” Steve mumbles, “Not that we’re lovers she’s just— She’s spending a lot of time with Eddie. It’s weird. We clashed a bit about it.”
Robin saunters round to join him on his side of the counter, dramatically removing her coat as she nudges his side.
Steve is eternally grateful for Robin’s friendship and the fact that, despite her teasing, she’s always a listening ear when he needs her.
She’s more than aware of how he feels—felt, he’d usually insist— about you, and she’s been trying to get you to admit that you feel the same too, just with little success.
“Dude, there’s nothing going on between her and Eddie Munson,” she scoffs as though it’s the most obvious fact in the world, “She worships the ground you walk on. You’re literally, like, soulmates.”
Steve pouts, “Platonic soulmates, maybe.”
He’d heard you say those words to the kids once when Dustin had called you soulmates and you’d gotten flustered.
“Platonic soulmates, sure. He’s my favourite person and I love him. But as a friend, Dusty.”
Yes, it was just an awkward reaction to the teens prying, but it was like a bullet to the chest to hear for him.
“Not even gonna ask where you learned that term,” Robin dismisses, waving her hands wildly in gesticulation as she speaks, “But you’re totally wrong. Look, buzz off for your lunch and go see her. And apologise for whatever you’ve said to her that’s got you moping around like a kicked puppy.”
Steve draws in a deep breath and bites his lip, nodding as he leaps over the counter and shakes off his nerves.
It’s a humid day, and he can’t tell if the sweat beading on his forehead on his short walk to your workplace is because of that or the sheer panic induced by his amalgam of current fears.
Was he going to have to come clean that he was jealous? Would you see right through him if he didn’t?
The ding of the bell to the diner doesn’t spark your immediate attention as it usually does, and at this Steve finds himself frowning.
The frown only deepens when he sees exactly why.
You’re leaning over the table into a booth on the far side of the diner, face lit up with a beaming smile and the sound of your laughter echoing in Steve’s ears.
But it’s the mop of curly brown hair opposite you that twists the knife that feels like it’s lodged in Steve’s chest.
So much for there being nothing going on.
He catches himself thinking this, trying to rationalise Eddie’s presence with the fact he’s not alone in the booth, but he can’t help the unease that has overcome him.
“Oh hey Steve!” your manager Mary grins, “She’s been in a right grump since she came back from her lunch break, hopefully you can cheer her up. I’ll get your usual ready for you now.”
Mary adores Steve, and you’ve always teased him about it — the way she dotes on him is so adorable and if you were totally honest you mostly just enjoyed how the mention of this made him blush.
“Oh it’s okay, thanks Mary,” he sends her a small smile to reassure her as her face drops, “Just a quick visit this lunch, mom’s leftovers for lunch for me today!”
That was an obvious lie that his rumbling stomach cursed him for.
His parents were never home, let alone the kind of parents to cook big family meals and send him away with leftovers.
She nods, “Okay sweetheart, you go say hi. That Eddie boy seems to be helping with whatever got her so down, but I know you put the biggest smile on her face.”
“Thanks, Mary. I’ll try.”
He can’t ignore the pang in his chest at the fact it was him that was the cause of your bad mood, nor the fact that Eddie of all people was the one here cheering you up.
Almost on cue, you turn around just as he starts making his way towards you, and he frowns as your expression sours.
“Can we talk?”
“I’m a bit busy right now,” you shrug, “Serving customers.”
You soften a little at the sadness in his eyes and as much as you’d like to stay strong and stoic to wait for him to grovel, you heave in a deep sigh, “Go grab a table and I’ll come over once I’ve cleared up Ed’s table.”
Ed.
He makes eye contact with Eddie now, who flings him a smirk and a wave and leans towards you, “What’ve I told’ya about calling me Ed, sweetheart?”
You roll your eyes, and when you turn back to Steve he’s already stalking over to another booth with his arms crossed and his feet practically stomping.
Sweetheart put a bad taste in his mouth and he didn’t want to stick around for more flirting.
You shoot Eddie a glare and watch the smirk on his face grow, “Told’ya he was jealous. God, he looked about ready to hit me.”
You shake your head, blushing crimson, “He is not jealous he just doesn’t like you very much.”
“Yeah, ‘cause he’s jealous,” he shrugs smugly, “You need to just tell him you like him before either his head explodes from that jealousy or I’m found dead as a result of it.”
Gareth pipes up beside him now, “He’s right. I don’t even know him and I can tell he’s literally head over heels for you. And apparently he has been forever.”
You ponder their words hopefully — maybe they’re at least partially right.
It would certainly explain why he was so concerned by you spending so much time with Eddie and in particular with the potential of that time being spent alone.
“You pair are a pain in my ass,” you huff, hands on hips.
Eddie pokes out his tongue, “Say that again when you’ve told him how you feel and he confirms that we’re right.”
With another roll of your eyes, you’ve turned on your heel and are headed straight over to your best friend’s table.
He doesn’t look up.
“Does Ed over there mind you ditching him to talk to me?” Steve is pouting and you’d find it adorable if it wasn’t so frustrating.
You laugh, “Eddie doesn’t care, in fact he encouraged it. Did you mind me being over there?”
He sighs, eyes flickering over to where Eddie and Gareth were watching the conversation intently.
He doesn’t answer and you find yourself slipping into the booth opposite him and reaching out to place your hand atop his — which is currently fiddling with a napkin.
“They’re certain you’re jealous,” you hum, your gaze challenging him as he finally meets it, “That you’ve convinced yourself I’m into Eddie because you’re into me and scared I like him better.”
Again at first he’s silent, unsure of where this conversation is going and how honest to be.
“And… Uh…are you? Do you like him better?”
“Are you seriously asking that question?”
“Well I don’t know, he called you sweetheart and you didn’t look happy to see me and—,”
You scoff, “I was upset at you for being so weird earlier. You’re my favourite person in the world, Stevie. I’m always happy to see you. Of course I don’t like him better.”
He can’t decide whether to take this as a signifier that hope for reciprocation of his feelings isn’t misplaced, but he takes the plunge and flips his hand over to intertwine his fingers with yours.
“You’re my favourite person too. Fine… Maybe I was jealous,” he runs his free hand through his hair as he gazes into your eyes and tries to read your response, “Maybe I’ve been trying to pretend I haven’t been crushing on you since, like, literally the day I met you because I didn’t want to screw up our friendship. And everyone’s into you—look at you! I just—,”
The smile that lights up your face is so bright and so beautiful that he wishes he had a camera on hand to snap it and retain the image forever.
“You never thought that maybe I’ve been feeling the same way and it might be worth the risk?” you raise your brows, “We’ve just been total fuckin’ idiots this whole time, huh?”
Steve laughs now too, all of his nerves washing away as you grip his hand even tighter.
Melodious laughter radiates from the two of you as you drink in the moment, and you know Eddie will be teasing you about the cliche moment later, but you never want to let go of Steve’s hand.
“I can’t believe it’s taken you being jealous of Eddie Munson for this. He’s known how I feel about you for ages, by the way, he just likes getting a rise out of you,” you shake your head, stifling laughter with the back of your other hand, “Plus he is so not my type!”
“He’s not, huh,” cocky, jokey Steve is back now as he pulls your intertwined hands up under his chin, “What is, then?”
You pretend to be deep in thought for a moment, “Hm. Massive dorks with disturbingly good hair, pretty brown eyes, a jealous streak and a concerningly bad sense of humour.”
His mouth forms an ‘O’ as he feigns offence for a moment, before he presses a kiss to the back of your hand and leans forward a little.
The kiss leaves a tingle on your hand when his lips pull away and you’re sure you’re going to ascend to heaven at any given moment.
He’s watching you so tenderly, his soft hand still tight in yours, and you just want to bottle up this time forever.
“Checks out,” he smirks, “But I do not have a bad sense of humour. Unless you count me pretending that your jokes are ever funny.”
“Thin ice, Mr Romantic,” you pout, “You’re supposed to be sweeping me off my feet right now, remember?”
He leans up so that your noses are touching, “Yeah, yeah. Well I’ve been waiting all the time I’ve known you to kiss you, so how about we start there?”
“Perfect.”
The kiss is every bit as tender as his lingering touch, lips plush and minty and ever so eager despite the gentle kiss.
You don’t dare intensify it, however much you want to, knowing that all eyes are on you.
You pull back, both of your eyes wide and your breathing ragged, and he licks his lips, “Oh I could get used to that.”
You’re interrupted by a cough.
“As pleased as I am to see you lovebirds finally getting some sense,” Mary tuts, a smirk on her lips as she taps her toes, “Perhaps save that for when Y/N isn’t supposed to be serving customers, hm?”
“Sorry ma’am,” Steve looks down sheepishly, and you want to kiss the adorable expression off his face immediately.
You place your palms on the table and scoot yourself up and out of the booth, but not before pressing one last quick kiss to his lips.
“I’ll come to Family Video when I finish at 4,” you sing-song, “We can pick up where we left off, yeah? Talk a little, kiss some more… Whatever you want.”
“Sounds perfect. You can finally tell me your story later too, yeah?”
Your eyes twinkle and you let out a belly laugh at the reminder of the stupid tale that had set all this in motion, “Yeah, maybe. I’m sure I’ll be distracted though.”
That sets his whole body alight even though he knows you’re not insinuating anything like that, and he briefly ducks his head to hide his flushed cheeks.
“Mhm, yeah, maybe.”
You twirl away with a spring in your step and a knowing smirk on your painted lips, your heart hammering against your ribcage.
After a slice of pie (on Mary’s insistence), Steve goes back to Family Video a very happy man.
And now he can’t wait for 4PM to roll round to make up for all of the time he’s spent pining.
———
eeee i hope you enjoyed this !!! it’s not perfect but please let me know what you think because it was so fun to write anyway. i love jealous silly steve ! feel free to request some steve/eddie/jonathan fics btw <3
