SUMMARY: when steve accidentally spilled your drink on your shirt, he became afraid you would leave him too.
PAIRING: steve harrington x reader
WARNINGS: slight angst with a happy ending, established relationship
You were standing in the kitchen refilling your solo cup with punch. You were a bit tipsy, but far from drunk. You put the ladle back into the punch after your cup was a bit over halfway full.
You turned around, balancing your cup carefully as the bass from the living room thumped through the floor. Just as you took a sip, someone pushed through the doorway a little too fast. They accidentally bumped into your boyfriend, Steve, who was standing beside you. He took a step back to regain balance, causing his shoulder to bump into you before either of you could react.
You let out a startled gasp when the punch splashed onto you, draining the light color of your shirt red.
You stood there, staring down at your soaked shirt, punch dripping onto the tile floor in crimson streaks. The sticky sweetness reached your nose.
Steve's face twisted with guilt. "Oh, shit, I'm so sorry," he stammered, grabbing a dishtowel from the counter. He immediately started dabbing at your shirt with the dishtowel, muttering apologies under his breath. But the towel was dry and rough, and the more he rubbed, the more the punch smeared. Turning the once localized stain into a broad, sticky mess across your shirt.
You grabbed his wrist to make him stop. "Stop, Steve. You're only making it worse."
Steve froze when you grabbed his wrist. He looked up from your shirt to your face. His eyes were wide and full of panic. "Sorry. God, I didn't-" he started, but his voice cracked. There was something strange in it, something that didn’t fit the smallness of the accident. "I didn't see them coming. I'm sorry. I ruined your shirt. I will buy you a new one. And pay for the cleaning."
You gave Steve a weird look when he reacted like that. Sure, you were a bit annoyed that he accidentally spilled the drink on you, but it wasn't that big of a deal.
"It's fine," you said. Your voice came out harsher than you intended. You moved away from your boyfriend, so you had enough space to at least try to make the stain less visible for the night.
Steve's hands froze mid-air as you pulled away. His face crumpled like a kicked puppy. "Wait, please," he blurted out desperately, fingers twitching at his sides.
He watched you try to fix the stain, and something in him snapped. Suddenly, he's surging forward to grab your wrist. "No no no-" His voice cracked with panic. "I'll get you a new shirt. Right now! I know this boutique down the street that's open late." He started frantically patting all his pockets for cash while still clinging to your arm like you might vanish if he let go. "Or… or we could just leave? We don't have to stay at this stupid party anymore."
"God, Steve, back off," you snapped at him. His fussing around you annoyed you more than the stain on your shirt. "What's gotten into you all of a sudden? You're acting as if I'm minutes away from dying and only you know. I'm not allergic to punch. I will survive."
Steve stopped dead, freezing in his tracks like a deer in headlights when you suddenly snapped at him. "I… I don't-" he swallowed, looking away from you, unable to meet your eyes, and his voice cracked again when he spoke next. "…I ruined your shirt."
"Yeah. I'm aware," you replied. A hint of annoyance was in your tone as you turned back to face the sink and resumed trying to clean the shirt.
You could still feel his eyes on your back. Heavy and restless, like he wanted to say something but couldn't figure out how. The faint hum of laughter and bass from the living room filled the silence between you, making his quiet even louder.
When you finally turned around again, he hadn't moved. His hand was still half‑raised, the dishtowel crumpled in his fist. His jaw worked silently, like he was chewing on words that wouldn't quite come out.
"You're mad at me," he finally said.
You exhaled sharply. "I'm mildly annoyed, not mad. Accidents happen, Steve."
"You say that now," he murmured, voice low and uneven, "but give it a minute. You'll start thinking about how stupid it is to be with someone like me. That I can't even handle a cup of punch without screwing it up."
You blinked before giving Steve a bewildered look. "What? What are you talking about?"
Steve dragged a hand through his hair. His eyes were darting anywhere but your face. "Nancy… the night she broke up with me, I spilled her drink all over her. The whole thing down her front. And she just-" He paused, then continued. "She looked at me like I was some big joke. Told me I was bullshit. That we were bullshit. I don't know, it stuck. And then tonight this. It felt the same. Like it’s happening all over again."
You couldn't help but huff softly at that. "Well, I'm not Nancy."
Steve flinched. His mouth opened, then shut again, like he couldn't find the right words fast enough. "I know that," he said finally, almost whispering. "God, I know that. You're nothing like her. I didn’t mean it like that."
"Sure sounded like it."
"No," Steve said quickly, stepping closer. His voice sounded low and desperate now. "You don't get it. When it happened, all I could think was, not again. Not because you remind me of her, but because I can't lose you like that. I love you. And in that second, it felt like the floor dropped out under me."
Your expression softened at those words. You were an idiot for getting jealous about something that was long past. "I'm sorry. My reaction just now was stupid. You didn't ruin anything. It's really fine," you said before trying to lighten the mood a little. "And really, I would've been the idiot if I broke up with you because of something like this. I mean, you're a catch."
"Yeah, a real catch," he echoed softly. "One that comes with a side of clumsiness and emotional baggage, apparently."
You're too young, Steve's too broke and stupid, but love doesn't care.
This was an amazing request by @alionabudka I loved it and I fw with the age gap (because I am in my twenties and want Joe so bad) I hope I did you're request justice :) Steve is 21, reader is 18
Graduation was supposed to be monumental, a great mark in coming-of-age where gowns would be dawned, hats would be thrown and diplomas taken. There would be hugs and sorrowful goodbyes, a share of where one was going in the future and a promise that 'we'd keep in touch,'.
But nothing was ever what it was supposed to be in Hawkins.
Most the students in your year fled when the earthquake hit, parents with them. Hawkins high had more than halved in size, including your graduation year. Where they could have been eighty of you there was twenty or less.
There'd be even less in the stands you were sure as you looked at your dress. A simple black thing and ballet flats.
You slung on your green robe, looking in the cracked mirror stuck in the Wheelers basement.
Your entire family had fled in the earthquake when you were stuck in the upside down with Robin, Nancy and Steve, trying to make sure it didn't happen. They wrote to you, urging you to leave Hawkins but by then there was a lockdown in place and soldiers reading every letter in and out.
Lucky for you you had Mike to vouch for you, blowing up an air mattress in his basement and helping you move your things in with Lucas and Will's help.
"You really have to wear this thing," Mike complained as he pushed your graduation cap down on his head, eyes going crossed as he watched the tassel sway. "Woah-woah."
"Yes, I do," you snatched in from his head. "So please don't stretch it out with your fat head."
"Hey!"
You were lucky to have Mike as a friend, Lucas, Dustin and Will too. As well as everyone else. But it was Mike and Nancy that urged their mom to let you stay and Karen was obliged. So, even though it had been months, nearing a year, you still woke up early to make breakfast or help with the groceries as well as the crawls Nancy drilled you in on, and finishing high school and helping at the Squawk.
Graduation was supposed to be a time when you rejoice and think of all the free time to relax.
You only counted it as something to cross of your list.
"Hey!" Nancy called down, standing in the light from the kitchen. "There's a call for you!"
"Is it El?" Mike asked hopefully, practically jumping from his seat on the couch where he was no doubt creasing the suit his mom urged him to wear.
"Not you, doofus."
You were all too happy to shove him out the way and bounce up the stairs.
You grinned. "Thank you, Mrs Wheeler," you said and picked up the phone in the kitchen. "Hello?"
" Hey," said Steve down the other end.
You turned away from Karen so she wouldn't see your blush, your school girl like smile as Steve's voice bounced over the line. "Steve," you said as casual as possible, but he could probably hear the smile in your voice. "I've got the gown on, that black dress as well that I wore for my eighteenth, you know. What have you got on, the suit you wear to every job interview?"
There was a deep silence on the other end.
" Is everything okay?" you asked. The phone creaked under your tight grasp. Oh god, what if something had happened? If Vecna had decided today was the day to make his next move.
" Yeah, um, I just- I can't make it. To graduation."
There phone creaked again.
Your heart sank.
"Oh."
" I'm sorry, Robin's got a food bug or something-" there was noise down the other end, some sort of grumbling and under it all a female voice. " I've got to cover at the Squawk, you know."
"Yeah," you said, your voice un-naturally high, the kind of squeak one got when trying not to cry. You cleared your throat. "Yeah, no, I get it."
He huffed out a chuckle. " Yeah, I knew you would. Okay, well I got to go. I'll see you tomorrow, good luck! Don't trip!"
The phone was quickly put down on his end.
You listened to the ringing for so long it played in your head even when you put it down.
"That your parents?" Karen asked from behind you.
"Yeah," there it was, that crack again. "Yeah, they just wished me luck and, you know, wished they could've been here."
Karen cooed and then left you to it, a squeeze to your shoulder as she went to no doubt fetch Ted.
You supposed you shouldn't have been surprised that Steve cancelled to spend a morning with a date instead, after all, Steve would always pick a girl, or just about anyone over you. It had been that way for years.
And the worst part is he must have known how you felt.
You didn't look at everyone the way you did him, your eyes didn't soften to anyone else. Jesus- since you were fourteen and had first met Steve in Dustin's backyard, the both of you called to catch Dart you had been infatuated.
You offered to clean his car after you had driven it through fields.
You ate more ice cream than you ever had in your life the summer he worked at scoops ahoy.
Got dragged into the Russian plot because you wanted to help Steve translate Russian- not Dustin.
You got a part time job at Family Video just to be around him.
And Steve had always treated you like he did anyone else. He protected you like he did any of the kids, he laughed with you like he did Robin. Then sometimes- he looked at you like you'd once seen him look at Nancy. His hugs lingered like they didn't with Max and his arm was slung over your shoulder more times than not.
It was only as age and the idea of a future outside of Hawkins crept up on you that things changed.
That Steve changed.
He hung up the phone like it was on fire and banged his head on the wall next to it.
"You are an idiot," said Robin from where she lounged on his sofa. "Idiot, capitol I. A fool."
"Thank you for that!"
Steve knew he was a fool, maybe. Maybe he wasn't. A part of him really thought he was doing what was right.
Or he had thought so before he heard that squeak in your voice, the one that came before you would cry.
He'd only heard it once before, when you'd showed up on his doorstep, the realisation that your family was gone and you would be alone for however long the lockdown lasted. He'd wrapped an arm around you, leading you in and listened as you talked and tried not to cry.
It had broken his heart and when the tears started sown your cheeks he pulled you into his chest and hid his own tears in your hair.
It was wrong but that was when he realised, with a crashing weight, that he loved you.
Not the way he loved Robin, not the sort of way he loved Dustin. Almost in the way he loved Nancy, that all-consuming ache for her that seemed worse with you.
He couldn't go a day without seeing you, half the time he didn't need to. With all the time everyone spent together it was easy to claim the seat next to you, to have a casual arm over the back of the couch.
But it wasn't right.
The small rational part of him knew you were still young, maybe not quite a kid, but you weren't an adult that had to worry about groceries being brought and used up before going out of date- like he did. You had summer jobs but didn't have to worry about saving up for a car or a home.
You had a future ahead of you. You bright, brighter than him and your future was looking better than his was.
Steve was settled to never leave Hawkins and find you in every shop window, on every bench and in every memory.
Robin shifted on the couch, pulling a cushion into her lap as Steve turned, resting his back on the wall to keep him on his feet. "Tell me again why you made up some lie and inevitably break your own heart as well as hers."
Steve thought about it and knew the words would sound as stupid out loud as they did in his head. "Because..." he settled on that word, hoping Robin would drop it.
"Because...."
He flopped down on the sofa next to her, hunched over and hiding his face in his hands.
There was nothing he could say to explain himself.
Maybe Robin had opened up to him with her deepest, greatest secret but Steve's felt wrong. It wasn't wrong, he told himself, you were an adult, you were graduating high school.
But he'd seen you grow into your features, seen your smarts get you far, seen your smile go from radiant to beautiful, seen you hopes and reams become a reality.
He'd seen your small smiles and duck of the head at him become bashful blushes and lingering looks.
He'd admitted to himself what that meant, but what would others think? That it wasn't right, that he would end up holding you back from the future you'd always wanted?
The couch dipped under him and he felt Robins leg against his.
She didn't push, didn't try to pry his hands from his face. She only wrapped an arm around his back and held him as his breaths became shaky.
He'd promised he'd be there, to watch you take the stage and take the first step into the rest of your life and he feared Robin was right.
In breaking your heart Steve had broken his own.
Steve was at home, feeling sorry for himself when the phone rang- it was going on midnight. He knew it was you before he picked up the phone, anticipating your voice trying to be happy as you re-called your day. You'd no doubt linger toward the end waiting for him to tell the real reason he did not go to your graduation.
"y/n?" he asked as he picked it up.
What Steve didn't account for was the loud music down the other end.
" Steve!"
"y/n?"
" It's me," you all but sang down the phone.
Steve didn't like the exaggeration of your words or the boom of some Wham song down the other end of the phone. "What's going on? Are you- are at a party?"
You scoffed down the other end. " Relax, dad."
"Are you drunk?"
" Why didn't you come today?"
Steve sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. He thought you'd shuffle around the question, that it would be awkward until he could use his charm as a weapon and distract the pair of you from the tension lingering the last year. Instead you'd got yourself to a party, had one too many maybe and had dialled his number. "You're drunk."
" Yeah, now, but I wasn't this morning and you didn't come," you said. " You didn't come."
Steve squeezed his eyes shut and held a hand to his chest, clutching at the sweater he was wearing. He was trying to shield his heart. "I told you, Robin wasn't-"
" -well, yeah, I got that, but you didn't have to lie to me just to spend time with your date."
"W-what?" his heart stuttered.
There was a crash next to you on the phone and some sound of a jostle. " I heard her. Over the phone. You could've just said you wanted some morning sex with the woman instead of lying to me."
"No, no y/n it wasn't like that I-"
" Shit!"
Steve panicked at the sound of crashes and yells from the other end. He heard some cheers after that. He knew what house parties were like, the trouble, the breaking of precious things, the drinks, the make-outs, the.... the sex.
Steve couldn't bare bringing you down if he was going to pursue this thing he knew he shouldn't, but he hated the thought of anyone else having you even more.
"Hey, what's going on? Are you okay?"
" No-"
"What's happened? What are you-"
" - you hurt me, Steve. Like really hurt me, more than any boy ever has!"
Steve knew that. He didn't need to ask to know he hurt you. "I know that, but are you okay now?"
" No, you still hurt me."
There was a heavy silence from him and a silence that was only interrupted by the music from you.
" I should go, I don't even know why I called."
"No, no, no, hey, wait, I'll pick you up we can-" but the phone was already down and he was talking to the ringing, the dreaded tone echoing around his empty head.
He'd hurt you. He hurt you.
He knew you wouldn't be happy he had to miss graduation but the confirmation in your voice and the way you called.
God, what was he doing.
Steve dialled another number on the phone, a number he was all too familiar with. "Nance? Hey- yeah everything's fine. I mean, not really. Can you put your brother on the phone?"
The walls rattled with the bounce of the music, every room hotter than the last.
You'd thought with how little there were to graduate in your year that the party would've been slim, a few people dotted around, beer, a terrible round of spin the bottle. Not a house packed, overflowing almost.
Everyone who had walked the stage with you earlier were there, drinking away anxieties, as well as others from years before that were unfortunate enough to still be left in Hawkins.
Faces blurred together as the vodka made your movements stutter and memory terrible. You had a feeling you'd been on the phone, probably to Steve but you had no idea how the phone call ended and any thought of Steve pushed you back into the kitchen, downing another drink.
Glasses were smashed on the floor, one had even smashed close to you, getting your ankle that now bled a small trail of red.
It wasn't the worst you'd got. The upside had you worse.
"Hey," said a guy you'd never spoken to, a year of two older. He had one of the Hawkins High bomber jackets on, all green and yellow. His eyes wracked up and down as he slid on the counter next to you. "You are lookin' sexy tonight."
You rolled your eyes, not drunk enough to give yourself up to his advances. "Not interested."
"Ouch."
You poured a glug of vodka into your plastic cup, searching around for a mixer.
The jock chucked a carton between his hands. "Cranberry?"
At your nod he poured enough in that it wouldn't dull the taste of the vodka.
"I'm Brad," he introduced.
You laughed, a smile that was the most genuine one you'd given of the day breaking on your cheeks. "Of course it is. Brad. Every asshole is called Brad. Or Steve."
It was like a drinking game you played with yourself. Every mention or thought of Steve had you taking a gulp.
"Well, listen," Brad went on, ignoring her. "If you find yourself in the mood, I'm next up in the master bedroom." He winked.
Your eyes rolled, scanning the room for a way out-
When suddenly you spotted Steve, standing out from the crowd. Not because he was too old to be there, there were many older than him grinding up against each other. But because he looked around frantic, his hair a mess, dishevelled even. His eyes were wide not with alcohol but worry. You'd seen it every time you were dragged into the upside down, or when the drugs from the Russians had worn off and he realised your lip was split, cheek bruised from their beatings.
Like always, he found you easily, eyes finding yours half way across the expanse of the kitchen.
Steve made his way toward you.
You didn't give yourself time to think. You grabbed Brad's wrists and dragged him away, around the island, barging past people and trying to find.... anything. Another way out. A back door or a way upstairs so you could lock yourself and Brad away, make obscene moaning noises at the door whilst not even touching the guy.
"Hey! Wait! Y/n, stop!" Steve was calling, the voices of protest following behind him.
You dragged a laughing Brad, the sound of a buckle being un-done. Was he seriously un-buckling his belt already?
Suddenly an arm wedged itself between the two of you just as you got on the first step.
"Hey, stop!" Steve practically pulled Brad away from you, voice firm with no room for arguments. But when he looked at you his eyebrows pulled together, voice dropping low. "Stop."
Any other time the puppy dog eyes would have you softening but with the fuel of the morning and the vodka cranberry it only fuelled your anger.
"Get lost, Steve."
"No," he said.
"Get lost, man," said Brad. "We're kinda into something here."
Steve looked him up and down but without the predatory gaze Brad had given to you. More with loathing. "You're not getting into anything and you-" he looked back at you. "You're drunk, c'mon, let's go home."
"No."
His brows rose. "No?"
"Yeah. No."
Brad smirked. "She said no man."
"Brad-"
"Can you leave-" the both of you and Steve said, snapping at the guy.
Brad tutted. "You know what, there's so much easier pussy to get tonight. You can have her man."
Your jaw was left agape. Not because you were offended, just because you didn't want to be left with Steve. Left without a way out.
Steve was focused on you, an arm trying to stir you away from the stairs. "Y/n, c'mon."
"I'm not drunk!" you snapped, taking the step down and throwing your hands into his chest, using all your weight to push him back.
The only result it had was him rocking on his heels. You were tipsy yes, maybe borderline drunk because every thought came with less time to think before you were saying it.
You tried to push him again.
Steve caught your hands and entwined your fingers.
It took you off guard for a minute, the warmth of Steve's hand encompassing yours. Then he was pulling and you were being dragged through the house until the cool air hit you.
His Beamer was parked up on the street, glowing.
"Steve, get off me!"
He didn't say anything, only dragging you across the lawn.
"I'm serious!"
You got your hand free and stood there.
Steve opened the passenger door, holding it open for you. He looked back to you, eyes darker as they peeked out from his hair that fell over his eyes. "Get in the car."
"No!"
His voice dropped even softer, like he was talking to a child. "Please. Please, just get in the car. Let me take you home."
Maybe that was all he saw you as, a kid.
You turned on your heel and started the walk down the street, wrapping your arms around yourself.
The door slammed shut and Steve was overwhelming you again. His scent, the jacket he wore, his trainers on the ground and keys jangling as he pocketed them.
He leapt in front of you, stumbling back as you continued on, trying to ignore the pull he had on you.
It was cruel, really. If he knew the effect and continued to abuse it anyhow.
"I know, I know you're mad at me, okay? I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."
"Why didn't you just tell me?"
"Tell you what? Tell you what?"
"That you wanted to be at home with a girl," you said, looking at him and pausing when you were far enough from the house party for the music to be a dull thud in the air. "Be with your date instead of coming to graduation, I- I would've understood."
Steve's face fell. "No, no," he said, shaking his head enough for his hair to mess up further. "I- It wasn't like that."
"Well, Robin wasn't ill and I heard a girl in the background," you chuckled dryly. Everything blurred around you, the street lights becoming a haze of gold as tears swam in your eyes. "I just... I don't get why you wouldn't want to be there. Did I- was I forcing you to go?"
"No, no," he said, like his heart was breaking.
"Then, Steve, I don't get it!"
"I couldn't do it!" he admitted, hands clutching your forearms, eyes wide as if he was worried you would leave him on the side of the street. "I couldn't do it. I- I couldn't see you leave."
You hesitated. Had the drink got to you or did you just not understand? Nobody could leave Hawkins. Sure- you would leave the stage but you would've only gone to sit back down in the stands.
"You graduate, you go to collage, you get a degree, you get an amazing job in some firm that won't realise how lucky they are to have you. You'll tell stories about your hometown, how you never went back, maybe for a thanksgiving, a Christmas every now and then and you'll-" Steve chuckled to himself, low and dry as his head tucked into his chest. A hand ran through his hair. "And you'll meet this guy who has the same suit in five different colours and reserves Saturday night for date night and he'll.... he'll love you."
His voice broke at the word love, something that seemed so sparse as of late but never had you felt more loved than when you thought of Steve.
You shook your head in attempts to clear it. "Steve, Hawkins is in lockdown."
His gaze flickered up to yours. "You know what I mean," he uttered. "I can't watch you leave, but I can't stop you from going."
It was almost all the words you wanted to hear. In a different order than you'd thought. "Why?"
His laugh was real as his eyes sparkled. "Because it's you."
If it had come from any other guy you would've thought it was cheap, an easy way to get out of things but Steve's eyes dazzled when he looked at you, his entire body leaning with yours.
Your hand wrapped around the back of his neck and brought him into you before reason could have a say.
They were soft but sore, like he'd been biting and picking at the bottom of his lip. They were unsure how to react, as was the rest of him. His body curling into yours, his arm a ghost around your waist without settling there. His hand hovered-
Only when you'd got comfortable did he pull away.
His cheeks were flushed, lips parted as his eyes lazily dragged up to your eyes. He cocked his head, tongue running along the bottom of his lip like it was an invitation for more.
"You- you can't-"
You scoffed a laugh. "Is this the part where you tell me I'm a fool? That all these signals are mixed? Cause that's mean, Steve."
"No, no," he said, panicked clearly in losing you or having your hatred.
"You're being mean-"
Steve cringed, eyes squeezing shut. His head hung low and his jaw clenched. He was silent.
You dared reach up for more but Steve jerked away.
"You're drunk-"
"I'm not that drunk-"
Steve took your hands, clamping them in his and holding them to his chest. You could feel the race of his heart. "Don't."
It was one word but enough to sober you.
What were you doing? Throwing yourself at Steve? He already thought you were kid-ish and with this he'd see you as a damn right child, no better than Mike or Dustin, maybe even worse.
Was there anything you could do for Steve to see you as more? As something that could be his?
"Steve, I'm sorry."
His smile was saddening but his eyes wide with something like adoration as he gazed at you. "Don't be. Just... don't make that mistake again."
A mistake? Was that what he saw himself as? A mistake?
"You're not a mistake, Steve." And you meant it. You knew that without parents around, a true family it was hard to believe anything different. That everyone had not left because of you. But did he not see how the kids needed him, how you did.
He laughed, more deprecated on himself. "You're just a kid, you don't know."
You're just a kid.
A kid.
Who knew fears could be voiced in four short words.
In four words the drink settled like acid in your stomach and your palms clammed up.
You pulled your hands back, turning your back on him.
He liked you in this dress, he'd said as much when you turned eighteen- the adult official recognised age. It was all at once the worst thing you could've worn.
"Take me home, Steve," you said. If you tried to walk away he'd no doubt chase you down again. Then he'd say things you thought you wanted to hear, you'd throw yourself at him again and then every shard of your heart would be broken and one thing you could agree on... you were too young for that.
"Y/n-"
"You said you wanted to take me home so take me back to the Wheelers. Please!"
A car ride while crying in the passenger seat didn't excite you but neither did the reptition.
When you heard the keys jingle you walked to the car, steering yourself ahead to avoid his arm on your back or the careful watch of his eyes.
You pulled the door open as his hand reached for the handle.
You slid into the seat that was practically always reserved for you and looked at the window at the house party.
Steve slid into the drivers seat, closing the door gently behind him, sliding the keys in the ignition. "Just-"
"Don't worry, if I feel sick I'll throw up out the window."
Steve was quiet as he started the engine. "Your seatbelt," he said instead of chastising.
"Sorry," you said, not sorry at all as you reached for the belt, pulling it over your chest. "Guess I'm too young to know better."
The rest of the drive was in silence, a heavy weight on your chest and in your stomach. Just you. You felt like a weight, like the day that was meant to be the greatest was the worst, like you lost half your life and hopes and beliefs in a night.
When his car stopped outside the Wheelers he tried to speak, tried to reach out but you were un-doing the seatbelt and walking up the drive before the engine even cut off.
People always said it was better to have half of something or someone then not have them at all.
You disagreed.
But you'd rather not have Steve at all then only keep him as a friend.
At that moment, you didn't think you were even that.
It was only when you'd stepped inside the Wheelers, leaning on the closed door that you heard Steve's car slowly pull away.
You dragged yourself in, wiping away the tears that dared silently fall.
You slipped into the kitchen, Mike raiding the fridge.
"You're back before one then the party was lame- hey," Mike cut himself off when he saw you, his voice taking an un-characteristically tender tone. "What's wrong?"
The tears came silent and you tried to turn away, hide.
But Mike was there quick, getting you to turn to him.
You kept your head low and let your body feel as heavy as it was.
Mikes arm wrapped around you as you hugged him, falling into his chest. It was awkward, he wasn't too sure how to be there but he was, a soothing sound, a warm arm.
Steve would've known the way to hold you, the words to say.
But you couldn't run to him when the tears were his.
Ignoring Steve was harder than you thought. It was only when you were actively trying to avoid him that you understood how much of your life was him.
The sofa that was yours in the Squawk had been vacant for a week, the spot you usually laid upon on the days you had nothing else better to do growing cold in your absence. Instead, you'd made Mike's basement your sanctuary, a pile of collage pamphlets next to your blow up mattress.
Yale. NYU. Harvard. Anywhere.
The idea of staying in Hawkins sickened you. The idea of having to see Steve with a new girl on his arm while he'd continue to 'babysit' you, ruffle your hair was enough to have you making a plan to sneak out in the night.
'Hey this is your old buddy Harrington, that is Steve Harrington.'
You thought you were going crazy when you heard his voice, though staticky and hardly there. Then you looked toward the radio on the other end of the mattress.
'Sorry Robi- I mean Rockin Robin couldn't make it this morning so you're stuck with me-' there was a sound effect of some applause followed by a fart. 'Oh shoot- er-'
Another odd sound played that had Steve curse under his breath before shutting it off all together.
'Sorry folks, I'm er, i'm on my own today. Not really used to that, um-'
You grasped the radio and thought about chucking it at the wall but it wasn't yours and you didn't fancy explaining to Mrs Wheeler why the radio was in bits.
But you also couldn't bring yourself to turn it off. You'd forgotten his voice but it sounded different, not as uplifted, far more down and dark. Like he wasn't even trying for the radio.
'But don't worry I'm under strict instructions to play only the best. But this first one, it's... it's for someone special. I hope she's listening.'
You imagined all the girls lying on their beds, feet kicked up in the air, twirling their hair and listening his voice, waiting for them to play the song that could be for any girl. Maybe he'd had a few great dates and was going to ask her to be his girlfriend over radio. What a romantic gesture-
'Please be listening.'
The soft melody of The Carpenters sounded through.
Why do birds, suddenly appear. Every time, you are near,
Just like me, they long to be,
Close to you.
It must have been a coincidence. Another girl in Hawkins must have loved the Carpenters like you.
But had any other girl in Hawkins been stood up by their date at Prom, left in a red dress and a corsage you had to buy yourself to match. You remembered it, sitting on the stands and waiting for it all to be over, there was another party that girls were going to that you didn't even want to go to but you'd promised.
You wanted to go home, leave the humiliation.
"Hey."
"Steve?"
He stood in front of you, a red sweater and jeans, trainers, hair a mess.
"What are you doing here?" you looked around, girls already staring, looking Steve up and down like he was a piece of meat.
"I was picking up Robin but, seems she's already left. Thought I'd- well I- I wanted to see you," he smiled, the charming sort.
You couldn't think of anything worse then him seeing you, mascara wearing off, corsage drooped. You chuckled, slumping. "Now you've seen me."
"Hey," Steve slid onto the bench beneath you. He stretched his leg long and put his arm up next to you. "Why aren't you out on the floor? Where's your stupid date? What was his name again, Matty?"
"Matthew."
"Right, right."
Steve hadn't really been thrilled when you came in, a bouquet of flowers cradled and a date to prom. He claimed he knew Matthew's older brother and he wasn't much of a looker or a thinker.
Matthew had the looks and he clearly had the brains to concoct this plan of dumping you.
"He um, he didn't show," you said as casual as possible.
Steve's head snapped to yours. "What?"
You shrugged. "It's no bigee."
Steve was still staring at you, furrowed in his brows, jaw clenched. He looked away, tongue poking in his cheek as he laughed dryly. "No bigee- god-"
"Well you don't have to sound so annoyed-"
Steve grasped your hand and pulled you up. You stumbled on your heels as he dragged you down the stand and onto the dancefloor. There was decorations, slightly tacky in taste hanging from the ceiling. There was only a few people still dancing, others making out in corners. "We're not having your prom be a dud cause that moron didn't show."
"Steve, you don't have to," you said.
And Steve smiled at you, that winning smile as 'They long to be (close to you)' started playing. His arm went around your waist like it always belonged there, his hand large and sprawled on your back.
He looked at you like every girl wished to be looked at. "Look, we're even matching."
Your red dress. His red sweater.
His other hand took yours, holding it close to him as he gently swayed the both of you.
You blushed at the closeness, at the fact you finally could catch the cologne that was all his.
People looked, wondering what the once king of Hawkins high was doing back and dancing.
"People are staring at you," you uttered, tilting your head back to look at him.
"No. No," he said with a chuckle. "They're staring at you."
"Why? Because I got stood up?"
Steve shook his head. "Because you look beautiful."
You switched the radio off as the memory brought unwanted tears to your eyes. You'd held back from crying over him. You'd once promised yourself you wouldn't cry over a boy and you were in no mood to start.
You'd only just hidden yourself under the blankets and covers when they were yanked back off you.
Nancy loomed over you. "Crawl."
You rolled away from her.
"Crawl!"
"Go without me."
"You man the satellite."
"Get Dustin to."
"We need Dustin on look out."
You often alternated between checking the signal in the van with Steve and on look out. You figured whatever zone was being checked tonight needed Dustin on look out more than you. Any other time, you'd be have been thrilled. Hours un interrupted with Steve, snacking and talking was great.
Now, you'd rather be in the upside down.
"Hey," you sat yourself up, alight with the idea. "Why don't I go down too?"
Nancy looked at you like you'd grown a second head. "What?"
"We'd cover twice as much ground if we do more than one zone a night."
"Okay, first of all," said Nancy in that authoritative sister tone she'd started taking with you as well as Mike. "It's too dangerous and second we don't have the equipment for another van to track you."
"I wouldn't need tracking."
"Yes, you would. You have thirty seconds to get ready before I drag you out- thirty seconds!"
You spent ten seconds groaning before rushing upstairs and jumping in the car with Mike and Nancy.
"Steve! Steve! Steve!"
"Yeah!"
"Are you listening?"
"Oh yeah- yeah- totally."
Robin rolled his eyes.
He had not been listening and of course Nancy would notice.
He was teetering back on a chair, feet kicked up on the table and a pencil between his teeth, flecks of wood in his mouth as he bit down on it, watching you sit on the stairs and watch the boards. No doubt you were there cause it was furthest from him and the easiest escape.
The crawl couldn't have been a better time. What with you avoiding him and all.
Steve had called every day, three times a day in hopes of hearing your voice on the other line, even if it was a 'screw you.' But every time he got Ted or Holly, sometimes even Nancy. It was like you knew it would be him and didn't answer it.
He'd even got Robin to call once, asking for you. He heard your voice for a second before he snatched the phone, breathing out a shaky 'hey' and then the phone was put down.
Like a god damn stalker he'd drive by the Wheelers, never daring to enter as Mike had given him a telling to 'stay away from you' and 'stop breaking his sisters hearts.' But he just wanted to know you were there. Safe.
The song on the radio had been a last ditch attempt then the Crawl begun and now Steve watched, waiting eagerly to be told to go like he was waiting for class to be called.
"So you know what you're doing?"
"Yeah, Nance, I got it. Y/n catches the signal, we follow Hopper on this side-"
"-slowly-"
"Yeah, slowly and wait for him to get back. We've done it like a dozen times."
"Alright, well, if everyone knows there parts-"
Steve stood up so fast the chair fell back but you were already running up the stairs. "Hey! Wait up!"
You blew through the doors, heading to the van but he had the keys. You waited at the door, without turning back to him.
Steve took a moment behind you, brushing a hand through his hair and checking his breath. He pulled his jacket tighter around him and shook all anxiety off him. "You know you can't run from me in the van, you know?" it had supposed to be a joke but you only passed him a small look.
No glare, no smile either.
"I can try," you mumbled.
Steve un-locked the van and got into the drivers seat. "Woah, cold in here, huh?"
You only folded your arms over your chest and looked ahead.
"You, er- you want my jacket?" He was already ready to peel it away from him.
"Just drive Steve."
So he did, he followed the route marked on the van, where he'd begin the drive and where Hopper would begin, then you'd have plenty of time to try for a signal and then you could begin.
Steve killed the engine on the side of the street, tapping along the steering wheel. He counted five seconds and looked toward you but you were looking out the window into the darkness. He focused ahead then counted another five seconds and checked again.
It was about five rounds of that before you spoke.
"Can you stop that-"
"I just have to ask," said Steve at once at the sound of your voice. "What did I do?"
"What did you do?" you asked, turning to him with bewliderment.
"Er, yeah."
"What did you do?"
"Yes!" he snapped. "Okay I picked you up from a party, drunk-"
"-I wasn't drunk-"
"-after you called me, by the way, you try to kiss me, I pull away-"
"- I'm sorry-"
"-and now you hate me?"
"I'm sorry, alright," you snapped, louder over his voice. "I'm sorry for kissing you, it was stupid!"
Steve hadn't thought it was stupid. God knows how long he'd wanted to kiss you, bite your own bottom lip with his teeth and hold you the way every other guy you tried to date failed to do. He just knew that if you kissed him and told him you loved him he'd be a man on his knees, weak.
Heck, everyone knew he was weak enough around you.
He pushed away his own feelings and thought about you far away from Hawkins, happy and alive. "Yeah, yeah it was stupid," he said, dull.
You sighed. "I'm angry... I'm angry because you called me a kid. You talked about me having this great future, moving, collage, meeting a guy then called me a kid? Kids don't do that."
"I didn't mean it like that-"
"I just wished you'd see me, Steve!"
He looked back at you, your knees pulled up in the seat, hands in your hair. You looked so defeated, just like he felt.
Steve moved around in his seat, facing you. "I see you, hey, I see you," he said, stretching his arm out and resting on the back of your seat. "I see you all the time. When you're not here, when you are. If a song you like plays you're here. If the sun is shining through the trees just the way you like, I think of you. When I find- I find a sweater missing I know you've got it and I like that feeling. Knowing that I'm with you as much as you're with me."
You laughed, a real amused laugh.
Steve, who was trying to lay as much of his heart out without frightening you, didn't think it was that funny. "What?" he asked un-sure. "What's so funny?"
Did he even really want to know?
You looked at him, eyes glassy from laughter or maybe something else. "I'm in love with you. You never see that."
In love with you.
Love.
His parents had stopped saying those words when he turned ten. A man didn't need love, he needed a sturdy body, a good social status, a good foundation.
He'd forgotten what it was like. The rush of the words. The look of love.
"It's- you shouldn't."
A stray tear fell from you as you pushed your feet back on the floor, un-doing your seatbelt. "You can tell me you don't love me, Steve, but you don't have to be so mean about it."
His arm darted out as you went to climb in the back. "I didn't say I don't."
I didn't say I don't.
It was, maybe, the closest you'd get to those three little words.
Steve's arm was stretched out, the door was locked and you were stuck in the van with him and your confession in the middle of you.
You fell back into your seat. "You-you love me?"
When you fell back into you seat Steve let his arm fall. He dragged his hands down his face like he was exhausted. You had noticed the dark circles under his eyes, as much as you tried not to.
He looked at you and gave the slightest of nods. "Yeah, I do."
You couldn't help the smile even though the tears fell down. "You love me."
"But you don't understand," his hands were large as they cupped your cheeks, brushing back tears. "There's a whole wide world out there."
You didn't think so. Sure there was a world but there didn't seem anything more important then home. "But I want this."
"You've never tried anything else."
"I know what you said. About collage and a job, a boyfriend-" you caught him wince. "And about leaving and never coming back but I don't want that."
"You don't know what you want-"
"I do! I do, you can't say that. I know what I want, I want you-"
"Why?" he asked, falling back in his chair and running a hand through his hair in frustration.
You stared at him, a slow realisation that he wasn't calling you a kid because he thought you were. He didn't believe you could know what you want because you chose him.
Steve stared hard at the steering wheel like it was his enemy. "I don't plan on leaving Hawkins, alright. I like it here, in spite of all the bullshit we've been through I like the town. I'll work any job I can, small, anything that comes my way just to save up enough money to get a small crappy place of my own. I'll probably eat stupid box meals cause- well, you know I'm a terrible cook."
"Yeah, you are," you agreed in a chuckle.
Steve laughed with you. "Why would you want that? You're so intelligent, beautiful, independent, kind, wonderful. You have a chance to have a future I could never have."
"If you don't want me all you have to do is say-"
You were pulled quickly into him, only registering what was happening when his lips were against yours.
Still as soft, not as chapped but they moved against your lips quickly, catching your every protest.
His tongue rushed into your mouth, tasing that want and knowing it was the truth.
You groaned into him as a hand fell on your thigh.
He pulled away, slower than he'd kissed you.
"I shouldn't have done that," he uttered.
"Yes, yes, you should have."
"No, every time I kiss you it gets harder to stop."
You wound your hand around the back of his neck. "I don't want you to stop."
You lifted yourself off the seat, his neck craning back as you kissed him deeper, getting him to take a sharp intake of breath as his hands fell to your hips, holding you steady, thumbs digging into your skin until you were branded in a bruise that belonged to him.
He shot forward in his seat and set you back down all the while kissing you. "But-"
"Stop with the ifs, and the buts," you mumbled against his lips.
"I can't," said Steve. He pulled away enough that you could see him and the pink in his cheeks and red to his lips. "I love you. I have for longer than I care to know, baby, but I don't want to be the one holding you back."
You deflated in your seat, slightly. "Steve, why can't you see how amazing you are?"
He blushed and looked down, hand still cradling your cheek and unconsciously brushing back your hair. "I just... I want you to have everything you want in life."
You studied him a moment. "All I want is you."
You kissed him slow, only applying enough pressure that he would know you're there but giving him enough time to pull away or push you from him. Your hands stayed safe on your persons and you kept your want at bay.
Steve's entire body curled closer, leaving just enough space to have control over himself.
You pulled back and caught his gaze down on your lips. "We're stuck in a shitty town that's falling apart with another dimension underneath. We could die tonight, we could die tomorrow. Why are we worrying about the future?"
Steve's eyes were wide in adoration as he stroked your cheek. "We're not gonna die tomorrow."
"You don't know," you spoke like it was a fact. It could have been. You'd made peace with the fact that death lingered like a friend ever since you discovered the Upside Down. Death didn't scare you anymore. "Hopper could find Vecna tonight and we could all fight to our deaths."
Steve shook his head, eyes on your lips. "I wouldn't let anything happen to you."
"I know you wouldn't."
Steve kissed you again, lips sweet and desperate as his hand spread across your cheek, thumb propped enough under your chin to tilt your neck back. "Because I love you."
"I love you."
He groaned into your mouth like the words were a promise of a key to heaven should all end in flames.
"We don't-" you spoke, or tried to, against his lips as Steve dared not part. Not that you ever really wanted him to. "We don't know how any of this will end. Why worry about what could happen? Why not just...just-"
You words were all mumbled in his lips, caught in the passion.
Steve's hands trailed down your back. "Why not just keep kissing you? Like I've been dying to." he asked.
You nodded with a smirk.
And so you did, you kissed until the world collapsed, until the skies crashed and even after, you kissed when Hawkins healed, when you left for collage. You kissed him upon every return and loved him every day, sometimes more. You loved him in marriage, in children and grandchildren.
NSFW blurbs for the Stranger Things boys. Enjoy :)
Warnings: Fingering, overstimulation, control, rough sex mentioned, AFAB reader
Characters: Eddie, Steve, Billy
Eddie Munson
Eddie is loud, messy, and obsessed with the way you fall apart for him. He’s not shy about what he wants, and he makes damn sure you’re not either.
He starts things innocently—sitting you on his lap while he “teaches” you guitar, fingers trailing lower with every missed chord. Before you know it, you’re moaning into his mouth and he’s grinning like the devil himself.
Eddie’s kink? Praise. But not just receiving it—giving it. Constantly. “Fuck, baby, you take me so good,” he pants against your neck. “You’re a goddamn dream.” He’ll talk you through every orgasm, telling you how perfect you are, how he can’t believe you’re real, how wrecked you look under him.
He’s big on overstimulation too—tongue and fingers working until you’re sobbing, begging, and he's laughing gently, kissing your thighs. “Just one more, sweetheart. You’ve got it in you.”
And when it’s his turn, he always finishes with your name on his lips and your body tangled with his like you’re the only thing anchoring him to earth.
Steve Harrington
Steve Harrington worships you like you hung the moon. Behind closed doors, his charm turns possessive—but never rough, unless you beg. He loves the slow burn.
You're straddling his lap on his bed, the golden light of sunset spilling over his chest as his hands skim under your shirt. Steve has a thing for taking his time, for teasing until you're nearly shaking.
His favorite thing? Keeping eye contact while he slides his fingers inside you, watching your face like it’s his favorite movie. He gets off on your reactions—literally. “Look at you,” he whispers as you moan, rocking against his hand. “You’re so fucking pretty like this.”
And when he finally thrusts into you, his grip is firm on your hips, holding you in place so you feel every inch of him. Steve doesn't just make love—he makes you feel wanted.
Billy Hargrove
Billy doesn’t play sweet. He plays intense. Every kiss is teeth and fire. Every touch dares you to ask for more.
You never know how it starts—it could be an argument, a smirk, or just the way you look at him from across the room. The next thing you know, he’s got you pressed against the nearest surface, one hand in your hair, the other tugging your clothes down like they offended him.
Billy’s thing? Control. He likes to own the moment, and he’ll growl in your ear as he drives into you, “Mine.” It’s not just about dominance—it’s about needing you in a way that borders on feral.
He doesn’t ask—he demands—but the second you say “stop,” he freezes. That edge? It hides someone who craves you like salvation.
Afterwards, he’s quiet. Fingers ghosting over your back, arms around you like he’s trying to memorize how you fit against him. And if you ever call him out on it? He just lights a cigarette and mutters, “Don’t make it weird.”
I'm Never Gonna Dance Again, The Way I Danced With You
Stranger Things Masterlist
Summary: After everything that happens to Hawkins, a school dance seems so out of place, but yet, everyone needs it. When an argument seems to break up Nancy and Jonathan’s relationship, Steve thinks it’s finally his chance to ask Nancy to the dance to conquer her heart. But first, he needs to learn how to dance. And of course, it has to fall on you. The only girl in Hawkins that seems to know how to dance and that is also deeply in love with Steve Harrington.
Pairing: Steve Harrington x F!Reader, Steve x Nancy, Nancy x Jonathan
Warning: Fluff, angst, misunderstanding, mention of the earthquake, Steve being a blind dumbass
Word Count: 5486
A/n: So this is the fic I took 6 months to finish, phew! Set up after season 4 when everyone tries to gather what they have left after the earthquake. No upside down breach leaks yet.
Having a school dance after everything that happened had to be the randomest, but the best idea people had in a while.
The school was one of the last, big buildings standing after the earthquake that opened the ground in pieces. With the hospital, it was the place people went if they needed food, shelter, clothes, anything they might have lost.
It was Robin’s idea, surprisingly. As she was making peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, she suddenly dropped everything she was holding, smiled brightly and ran around telling people. With some help, they transformed the school with what they had left, found some speakers in the audio room and printed flies to invite people. Everyone was invited. Not that there were many people left in Hawkins, everyone fled the town.
Since the cafeteria was used for the homeless and wounded, the gym was chosen for the dance. Clothes were given away for the occasion, suits, dresses, of all sizes, so people could take what they liked to wear to the dance.
With all that happened, it was really needed. Just one night, dancing, eating, having fun with everyone and forgetting the mess that was outside… Everyone needed that.
You needed that. It was the perfect opportunity to reveal your feelings to the man you loved. All you had to do was to walk to him and ask him to go to the dance with you.
And there he was, in front of you, folding the newest arrival of clothes. A big, long red dress in his hands, Steve was struggling to find a way to put it on a hanger, totally lost in the number of straps it had.
One foot in front of the other. Your heart tumbling in your chest. Sweaty hands kept wiping on your skirt. Mouth dry, lips silently mumbling the words you were ready to tell him. And it was easy, so easy, just… Hey Steve! Do you want to go to the dance with me?
Easy, right?
Another step, you were now even closer. Steve finally found how to put the dress on the hanger and placed it on the rack with the other prom dresses. People were so generous, he had an impressive amount of them in front of him.
Another step. “Hey, Y/n!” A voice suddenly rang behind you and you startled. “Sorry I scared you! I have a question…”
Turning to Robin, the organiser of the dance - a title not to pronounce in her presence, the mere thought of being the brain behind the dance turned poor Robin in a puddle of stress-, you forced a smile. “Yeah?”
“I know you were in the dance club before you graduated,” Robin was speaking very fast. In her hands, there was your year school book, her finger pointing at the picture of you with the dance club members. “So, since it’s a dance, I was wondering, what do we dance at a dance party? Like, for the music, of course.”
“Oh,” you picked up the book, smiling as you remembered that time. It was only a year ago, but yet, it felt like forever. “First, you need songs that are slow. We need that slow dance moment,” your smile grew bigger as you turned the page. “I can make a mixtape if you want, with songs we used to dance to?”
You lifted your head, at first to look at her as you asked her the question, but stopped breathing immediately when you noticed something happening in front of you.
Further in the cafeteria, there was the drinks stand where usually Nancy helps. Now, she was in a deep conversation with Jonathan, both of them having tears in their eyes. You were too far away to hear what they were saying, but at the looks of it, it looked like…
“Looks like Nancy and Jonathan are breaking up,” Robin muttered out loud what you were thinking. "Again."
And just to confirm, you watched as Jonathan walked away quickly, making everything to hide his face and his tears. Your heart broke at seeing them apart, you wished no one to live through a break up.
But then, your gaze shifted and you saw him watching. The moment Jonathan was gone, his hands were slicking his hair back, his eyes never looking away from Nancy.
He wanted to try it again with her.
Next to you, Robin jumped her way towards Steve to whisper something to him and you saw him nodding ferociously, clearly listening to Robin’s advice or the plan that she was already scheming for them to get back together.
Your heart sank even more.
Still really stuck in your mind and how you missed your chance, how Steve would never notice you, or notice you had feelings for him for years now, you didn’t notice there was actually a person in front of you trying to get your attention. You got out of your head when fingers snapped near your nose.
“What?” you jumped again, your voice high with annoyance of always being so jumpy. Your annoyance suffered a major down when you noticed it was Steve in front of you. “Oh… Uh…”
“Y/n. I need your help.” Steve left you no time to talk between his sentences. “I need you to teach me how to dance. I need to be the best dancer before I invite Nancy. Also because asking her immediately after she broke up would be quite a dick move,” Steve laughed, and god.
You wished he didn’t laugh.
You wished he didn’t offer one of his beautiful smiles.
You wished he didn’t have his puppy eyes activated.
Because helping the guy you love getting with the girl he loves was too painful to even think about it. But when Steve asked you something… Or simply talked to you… You always got in a trance.
“Yeah, of course."
Neither Robin or Steve noticed it. How you suddenly got really flustered and sad at the same time, your heart literally breaking into a thousand little pieces at your feet. How your eyes got darker as you lowered your head while the two were scheming again, creating a plan where Nancy wouldn’t be able to tell him no.
But someone else noticed. He was giving glasses of water to people, reminding them H2O was essential to the body. Still walking with his limp, his injured ankles dragging a bit behind, Dustin stopped to look at what was happening.
“And they call us kids. Unbelievable.”
-
“Hey, flashdance,” you groaned after the fourth time.
It’s been only an hour. Just you showing him the basics. And Steve already stepped on your foot four times. Always the same foot, on the same toe. And at first, you tried to swallow it, swallow the pain to avoid any kind of embarrassment for him. But that one really hurt.
“I’m so sorry,” Steve cringed as he let go of your hand. Stepping back, he sighed and let himself drop on his couch.
After you agreed to teach him how to dance, Steve invited you to his house to start the same day. There was no time to lose, according to him. He had to be good, perfect, even, by the end of the week. Clearly, Harrington had a big ego and wanted to show Nancy how much of a good dancer he was.
The dance was happening next Saturday, and it was only Monday evening.
You sat down next to him, your hand still burning with the sensation of his fingers intertwined with yours as you tried to teach him how to spin his partner. “It’s okay Steve, we still have plenty of time,” you tried to comfort him. "Nancy's gonna be so impressed with your dance moves, you'll see." Of course, the sentence that wanted to be reassuring for him only hurt your feelings.
Steve ran his hand through his hair and you followed his movements, your eyes unable to look away. His hand and his hair.
Gosh, he was beautiful.
“Yeah but I feel like I’ll never get good…” Steve mumbled and sighed in defeat. His eyes wandered to the left and he looked at your feet. “Sorry for stepping on your feet,” he apologised again and you rolled your eyes.
“Stop saying sorry. Now, get up. We have work to do, you're gonna impress Wheeler at that dance,” you ordered, standing up and extending your hand for him to take. You had no idea how you managed to stay so calm. Perhaps, even if your heart was beating very fast, it wasn’t exploding because it was broken. After all, you were helping the guy you were in love with getting back with his ex…
Why were you doing that to yourself?
The smile he had on his face as he nodded, took your hand and got up. That was why.
That same smile you fell for and wished was only for you to see.
Swallowing your jealousy and your heart twisting painfully, you forced a smile and resumed the lessons.
-
Spending a whole week with Steve Harrington would have been a dream come true in any other circumstances.
But spending a week with Steve Harrington to help him get back with his ex was the most painful thing you had to do. Because you really loved spending all that time with him. Not just for the dance where you had to touch and be close, or where you could laugh at how clumsy he was. It was the late night pizza he would order. Or how he always had the house to himself since his parents were out of town, so you two would be alone. It was the few nights you stayed over because it was too late to drive back home.
It was that night he decided to jump in the pool and you joined him. Since you didn’t have your swimsuit, you jumped fully dressed. And it felt liberating.
The week was amazing. But now that it was over, that the dance was coming, that Steve didn’t need you anymore cause he mastered the art of dancing…
Emptiness was filling you up. Steve was simply so happy and proud of himself, he kept talking about it wherever he went. To Robin, Dustin, everyone knew he was now a professional dancer thanks to the best teacher in the world, you.
The dance finally arrived. You were home, wearing the dress you picked, looking at yourself in the mirror. Tears were drowning your sight and leaving trails of water down your cheeks. Luckily, you had no makeup on yet, because it would have been a disaster.
The dress was beautiful. Red and silky, the corset brought up your shapes and created a semi plunging neckline. In the back, many stripes were intertwined, it had been really complicated to put it on. It was mid length and arrived just below your knees.
It was the dress Steve was trying so hard to put on a hanger. You didn’t know why you picked that one, because it was pretty, or because you imagined how Steve would hold you if you were in it?
“Honey, your friend is here!” Your mom called from the kitchen. You startled, once again, and a hiccup cut down your little pathetic scream.
“Coming!” You screamed, hurrying to dry your cheek. One last look at the mirror and you admitted defeat. You wouldn’t be able to hide that you've been crying. Your eyes were way too puffy and red now.
Wondering who was at the door, you really hoped it wasn’t Steve. Then, you realised, it couldn’t be Steve. He asked Nancy to the dance. She said yes. That was the reason you’ve been crying for hours now with the dress on.
Steve was with Nancy.
When you arrived at the door, you expected a lot of people. But not the one that was waiting there. His hair was slicked back, Steve style, and he had the cutest suit on. “Dustin?” You wondered quite loudly as you looked at him, up and down, frowned and crossed your arms against your chest. “What… Why… How…”
“Gosh, Steve is so blind,” Dustin rolled his eyes and stepped inside your house like it was his now. “I’m making sure you’re coming to the dance,” he continued and then took a long look at you. You could see the moment his eyes softened, meaning he noticed you’ve been crying. “I knew it. Now, finish up, we’re going.”
“Where do you come from?” You wondered, trying to wipe invisible tears that would still be there on your cheeks. “How do you know where I live? Why are you here?”
“That’s too many questions,” Dustin rolled his eyes. “But okay. First, I came through the front door. Second, I know where you live because I’m smart. Third, I’m here to help you confess to Steve.”
That was indeed too many questions, because you received way more answers that your brain could comprehend. “How do you-”
“Like I said,” Dustin stepped closer to you and put both of his hands on your shoulders. “No time. I know. Now, go get ready, I’ll be waiting in the car.”
To that, you stopped mid track. Already, Dustin Henderson showing at your house was something you would never have expected. He clearly knew you had feelings for Steve, but that part strangely didn’t surprise you. Dustin was always the clever one, after all.
“The… Car?”
Once you were ready, after your mom kissed you goodbye and told you how beautiful you were, you walked outside to see what Dustin was talking about. And here, parked in front of your house was a car. Of course, it wasn’t Dustin’s, he didn’t have the age to get his licence yet. But as you got closer…
“Hello dear, you are beautiful!”
“Thank you m’am,” you smiled as you entered the car next to Dustin’s mom. Sitting at the back, you knew Dustin had the biggest smile ever. The kid was proud of himself.
Arriving at the dance with Dustin was weird at first, but quickly, you noticed no one was paying attention to you anyway. Already, people were on the dance floor, the mixtape you made for the occasion playing in the speakers. They used the same lights and the same decoration as the snowball dance, but no one minded. Adults and younger people were mingling and having fun for the first time since the earthquake.
“Dustin, I have to ask you.” You were at the drinks table with your friend, hiding. Looking at the choices of beverages to hide the fact you were too scared to look at people and seeing Steve with Nancy. He had to be there. That was for sure. “Why do you want to help me?”
“I’m not only helping you,” Dustin answered, taking a glass of grape juice. “I’m also helping Steve. That poor guy is so blinded by Nancy, it hurts both him and the girls that like him. At first, I thought he would get with Robin, but they don’t have that kind of relationship.” He took a loud sip of his juice as you still avoided looking at anyone in the room. Head bent down, you thought about what Dustin just said. “Then, I saw how you looked at him. It was easy to guess.”
Of course, if someone would see through the mask you tried to wear whenever you were with Steve to hide your feelings, it would be Dustin.
“So,” you resumed, finally making your choice. You picked a can of soda and turned to Dustin. “You do that for him?”
“Steve needs someone like you in his life. And he needs to realise Nancy loves Jonathan, break up or not. Look,” Dustin gestured in front of him, and it was with fear that you finally turned to scan the crowd.
To the left, there was El with Mike, dancing so closely it was barely if they were two people anymore. Hopper and Joyce were there as well, dancing cheek to cheek, and you smiled at seeing them so happy. Hopper coming back to Hawkins was the best thing that happened in a while, even if at first, people were shocked to see someone seemingly coming back to life, again. Then, there was Lucas and Will eating cake, clearly talking about DnD. Will’s face was bright with passion as he spoke to his friend.
Then, like there was a spotlight on them, Nancy was with Steve.
Steve looked so good, for a moment, you forgot to breathe. He had a suit on, with a bow tie and his shirt was unbuttoned enough to show the chest hair he was so proud of.
Nancy was as beautiful in her pink dress. Her curly hair was tied in a tight ponytail and clips with little bows were decorating the side of her head.
But above their unnatural beauty and how much they fitted together, there was something else. Nancy kept glancing towards the door, as if she expected to see someone come in at any moment. Yes, she was holding Steve’s hands, she was physically with him, but her mind was completely elsewhere.
Hope seemed to light a flame in your chest. She was looking for Jonathan, that was certain. They say the eyes are the mirror of the heart. And her heart belonged to him. Dustin was right, Steve hurt himself by holding on to her.
The slow song seemed to end, and Nancy whispered something to Steve. Again, you were too far to hear, but the look she gave him before walking to the exit meant enough.
She was leaving to find Jonathan.
Your heart sank then. How could you feel hope when you saw the man you loved getting his heart broken, again? You knew the feeling. It hurts so bad it gets hard to breathe. You could not take advantage of this.
Steve seemed to notice he was alone in the middle of the dance floor, because he suddenly looked all around him. And when his eyes fell on you, when a smile stretched his lips as he walked towards you, you really felt your heart drop to the floor.
“Here he comes,” Dustin sipped his juice again and subtly walked further in the room to leave you two some time alone together. Part of you wanted to punch him, after all, he brought you here and told you all of that about Steve, to then leave you alone with him. But the other part was thankful.
Here was your chance.
“Hey! I didn’t think you would come,” Steve said the moment he was close enough. You swallowed, played with your soda, trying to find something to answer, but nothing left your mouth. There were so many things you wanted to tell him, your brain was running wild with the desire to speak, but it was blocked. Impossible to say a single thing. “Oh, I love that song!” Steve bobbed his head to the rhythm, clumsily vibing to the music. You knew it was one of his favourites, you practised a dance on that song with him, that was the reason you put it on the mixtape. Hoping you would get to dance to this song with him again. “So, Nancy left to find Jonathan.” You glanced at him quickly to see his reaction; he rolled his eyes, drinking his apple juice quickly. “It’s like she can’t get him out of her head, y’anno?”
“Steve, I-” You tried. You tried so hard to make the words leave your mouth, find the courage… But you were immediately interrupted.
“I spent a week learning how to dance, gathered the courage to ask her, she came here with me, and now she’s gone? If you want my opinion, it’s so unfair. I was right there!” Steve exclaimed, drowning the rest of his juice. “Why is there nothing else than juice and soda here?”
“There’s kids to the dance, Steve, so there’s no alcohol,” you tried again, tears quickly filling your eyes. You wanted to say it. So bad. It was the time. You were alone with him, you just had to say it. The words were bleeding through your lips, your heart beating so hard it hurt. You could barely hear the song above the beatings.
“I just wished she could see me, y’anno?” Steve continued, not at all listening to you. “I’m right there, next to her… And…” You could see him lower his head, clearly hurt by what happened. You really hated to see him like that, so like always… You tried to comfort him.
“I know…” You whispered, knowing exactly what he meant. “Sometimes, the right person is right there, next to you. With only love to give,” you continued. Next to you, Steve nodded, agreeing with you. “You're there. Right there next to them. But they don’t see you.”
“Exactly!” Steve exclaimed. “If only Nancy was thinking like you…”
Tears were now running down your cheeks. You couldn’t hold them back. All you ever wanted to tell him, you basically just did. And he was still talking about Nancy, comparing her to you.
It would always be about Nancy.
“Sorry,” you excused yourself, walking as quickly as you could towards the closest door. You had to leave, right now. Coming was a bad idea. You should have stayed home, curled up in your bed, watching the wall like somehow, the answer to all of your questions was hiding in the wallpaper.
Making your way through the crowd, you couldn’t hold back the sobs that shook your chest. Good thing the music was there, it could bury the sounds. But it also buried Steve’s voice as he called your name.
There was only one place you could go. To hide and cry and let your emotions drown freely out of your body. The lock was broken for a while now, but since no one cared about this place, the school didn’t think it was necessary to change it. Who would want to steal anything here? Dance material, costumes, even the theatre props were put in here. Most of them were so worn, even the patches sewed on the fabrics to cover the holes were starting to rip apart.
During the hell that was your high school, being in the dance club was the only thing that brought you comfort and joy. And then, you became friends with Robin. She wasn’t in the club, but you could see her sometimes during practice in the doorway, mimicking the movements like she wanted so badly to be there. One time, you asked her if she wanted to join, and she answered she was so bad at dancing she would look like a clown. You proposed to teach her how to dance, but then, she suddenly got very busy with something she wouldn’t tell you about.
The earthquake happened shortly after. You knew there was more than that, a truth her group of friends were hiding. Of course, by hanging out with Robin, you ended up hanging out with her friends too, and that included Steve. She promised you there was nothing between the two of them, and you believed her.
Friendship didn’t always need romance after all.
In Hawkins, there was the big, main gymnasium, but there was also a smaller one right next to it. The room was surrounded by mirrors and designated for dance and theatre practice. And in the corner, the only place there were no mirrors, there was a door. And behind, the props you were hiding with.
You had no idea how much time passed. How many tears shed down your cheeks before there were none left. Gosh, you were crying for a boy, and missing the dance you were so happy to attend at first. It was so unfair, you couldn’t stay there and cry alone like a teenager with a heartbreak.
With that new resolution in mind, you quickly dried your cheeks, got up, and opened the door. Lights filled the room, but you couldn't remember you let the lights on when you came in here. Only one step out of the room and you walked into a firm wall of warmth head first.
“Ouch,” you mumbled, staggering a bit to find your balance back. Stupid high heels you were not used to wearing. Once the first surprise of heading into someone was passed, you noticed that in fact, you weren’t alone in here. In your private hiding spot. And you noticed it from the start, when you walked into him. You knew who it was, only with the soft scent he always had. Of course, there was a strong aftershave scent above it. But under, it was him. Your other source of comfort.
Though, right now, it was a source of heartbreak.
“Sorry,” Steve apologised, both hands raised. Not able to face him right now, you kept your head down and stared at his chest. Particularly at the patch of hair he was proudly displaying tonight with his unbuttoned shirt.
“What are you doing here?” You asked, rocking from one foot to the other. Stress started building up, did he follow you? How did he know you were in there?
“I couldn’t leave you after you ran away like that.” Steve’s voice was soft, low, almost a whisper. Like he was speaking carefully, choosing his words to be sure to not mess anything up. “I also couldn’t let you leave without…”
As the first note of the song echoed in the empty room, you couldn't help but lift your head towards him. A smile was stretching his lips, he looked so proud of himself, and he was so close to you you could see your reflection back in his brown eyes.
“How did you…” You started, looking around the room to try and find who put the song on. THe room had speakers, but to have access to it, you needed to be next to the sound console which was not with you right now.
“Do you want to dance with me, Y/n?” Steve's voice was now sulky and warm and even a bit flirty. And when you glanced towards him, it was to see his hand extended to you, a glint of amusement in his eyes and one wild hair strand falling on his forehead. “Please.”
I feel so unsure
As I take your hand and lead you to the dance floor
As the music dies, something in your eyes
Calls to mind a silver screen
And all its sad good-byes
Who were you to tell him no? It felt like a fairy tale. Maybe you fell asleep in the prop room, and this was your dream coming true. Well, your dream being a dream. You couldn’t let that pass, so dream or not, you took his hand.
It was warm in yours, almost burning.
I'm never gonna dance again
Guilty feet have got no rhythm
Though it's easy to pretend
I know you're not a fool
This verse, he sung it with the song. And as the lyrics left his lips, Steve hugged you to him, his whole body engulfing yours with the heat. It felt hot, you knew your face was flushed with embarrassment of being so close to him. You almost missed the significance of the song. How the lyrics and what he was singing was exactly what was happening.
Though, as you started your slow dance, your left hand in his big one and your right one on his shoulder while his was around your waist, he didn’t step on your feet this time. He had rhythm.
You teached him well.
Laying your head on his chest, you closed your eyes. If only this wasn’t a dream.
I should've known better than to cheat a friend
And waste the chance that I'd been given
So I'm never gonna dance again
The way I danced with you, oh
As the song continued, time seemed to stop. It felt natural. To be this close to Steve. To hold him close to you. To share the same space, the same body heat and the same air. It was beautiful, just the two of you, surrounded by an endless amount of reflection all around you. Your twins dancing the same dance in the mirors.
Steve stepped back ever so slightly, but never let go of your hand. And then, with the skills of a professional dancer, he lifted the arms that were locked with yours and made you spin slowly. No feet stepping on your toes, you swung on yourself beautifully. The hem of the dress lifted and created a swirl of red that got reflected in the mirrors. You saw it all around you. And when you lifted your head to tell him he did it perfectly, your words were cut by lips.
At the same moment Steve kissed you, fireworks exploded in your stomach. There was no one else than the two of you in the school. In Hawkins. On the whole planet. Only the two of you existed. Not wasting a second, you put your other arm around his neck and kissed him back with all the love you had for him.
And in the distance, the song continued.
Tonight the music seems so loud
I wish that we could lose this crowd
Maybe it's better this way
We'd hurt each other with the things we'd want to say
We could have been so good together
We could have lived this dance forever
But now, who's gonna dance with me?
Please stay
“Please stay,” Steve broke the kiss and exhaled softly against your face. You closed your eyes and smiled sadly, knowing this just couldn’t be true. It was a dream. “I was blind, so blind,” he continued, a nervous laugh following his words. To that, you opened your eyes again and looked at him, listening to what he had to say.
And in his eyes, you could see anxiety.
Wait. Steve being anxious? He was always so sure of himself. You frowned. “What?”
“I was blinded by Nancy… We never really forget our first love, you know,” his gaze grew sad. Yeah, you knew. Nodding your head, you invited him to continue. “But I realised tonight… Sometimes… Sometimes, the right person is right there, next to you. With only love to give. You were there. Right there next to me. And I saw you, I saw you since the time I met you. But I couldn’t really see you, you know?” You nodded even if you were not really sure to follow. “I mean… Y/n, I like you.”
Butterflies flew widely in your stomach now.
“So that’s why you kissed me,” you nodded. God, you were nodding way too much!
Steve nodded as well. At least you weren’t the only one using your head to show agreement. “Please, forget how of a blind jerk I was, stay…”
To that, you thought. Stepping back from his warmth, even if staying in his arms was the only thing you wanted, you suddenly clasped both hands on your cheeks quite strongly. By now, the song was over, so the clap sounded loudly in the room.
“I’m not dreaming, am I?”
Steve looked at you with wide, confused eyes. “No…?”
A bright smile stretched your lips. Good. This wasn’t a dream. You took a couple of seconds more to take in the moment, take a deep breath and admire the man in front of you.
God, your heart was about to get out of your chest.
“But… wait,” you momentarily lost your smile. “How… How did you know? Minutes ago, you were all over Nancy,” you reminded him, but you could see for him it was like a stab in the back. You quickly asked your question, afraid to spoil the moment. “And now you’re here, and danced with me, and kissed me,” you smiled, your lips tingling with the need to do it again. “What happened in the meantime?”
LIke he was waiting for the right moment, the door cracked open on an overly curious teen.
“Good, you both like each other. Now, can we go back to the dance please?” Dustin muttered before closing the door. You listened to his steps fading away.
“I should have known,” you rolled your eyes playfully. If someone had to open Steve’s eyes, it was Dustin.
“Ready to go back?” Steve changed the subject, probably a bit ashamed it took a kid to open his eyes and offered a hand that you took with no hesitation. Glancing up at his face, you were met with a soft gaze filled with warmth.
“Actually... I’d like to stay a bit longer,” you snuggled against Steve, his arms immediately circling your frame. “If it’s okay with you.”
“Of course,” Steve placed his cheeks on top of your head. “We can stay as long as you want.”
Could you maybe write something for Steve where the reader and him date and they always get made fun of by the gang and by Robin but they all love her, and one day Steve and her fight and they all take her side. Thank you so much, and I understand if you can't write it. Thank you❤
Taking Sides
A/N: Thank you for requesting, anon! This took me approximately forever and a day, but I loved every minute of writing it. :) I got a little carried away with the story (as I usually do), so there’s a lot more under the cut.
Warnings: swearing, angst
When you started dating Steve Harrington, you didn’t expect to gain a bunch of kids, too.
Of course, Steve wasn’t their biological father. The oldest of his friends was seventeen and the rest fourteen. However, they all acted more like nine-year-olds. They had the maturity of fifth-graders at best.
Whenever you were around them, there was constant, merciless, inevitable teasing. Usually, it was over the little things-when you and Steve wore matching sweaters at Christmas time, the way Steve did anything you asked him to without question, or how the two of you always laughed at each other’s terrible jokes. You quickly learned to avoid PDA unless you wanted to deal with incessant mocking. For example, you once accidentally referred to Steve as your “baby boy” in front of Dustin. The kid laughed until he ran out of oxygen in his lungs. Then, he promised that he would exclusively refer to Steve as “baby boy” from now on.
Originally, their jokes and snide remarks started out as a way to test you. They had to make sure you were good enough for their beloved Steve, after all. Before long, though, the gang accepted you as one of their own. Nonetheless, the teasing didn’t stop after they decided they liked you. If anything, it only worsened.
An endless string of dirty jokes ensued every time you and Steve arrived somewhere late because you’d “just lost track of time”-even if you actually had simply forgotten to keep an eye on the clock. Robin often wondered aloud how someone as smart as you could end up with a person whose two brain cells bounced around his skull like ping-pong balls. And on one occasion, you even caught El whispering something to Max about whether or not you and Steve ever had “happy screams” together.
The harassment was relentless. Nonetheless, if it meant spending just a little longer with your favorite person in the world, you could deal with it. Besides, by now, you were in too deep to simply walk out. Steve’s friends had begun to care for you almost as much as they loved him. In some cases, it even seemed like they liked you just a little bit more.
One such situation occurred in the winter of 1985.
It started off as a normal night. You, Robin, Steve, and the party were hanging out in the Wheelers’ basement. After weeks of begging, Will had finally wrangled the gang into a D&D campaign. Max and El, who’d never played, both scrunched up their faces in confusion as Will emphatically explained-or rather, tried to explain-to them the rules.
The kids were crammed around a table with dice, paper, and pens in the middle. When Mike suggested that El sit on his lap “to conserve space,” no one questioned it. After all, Mike was the ringleader of the group, and no one would dare to mess his superhuman girlfriend.
Meanwhile, you couldn’t even sit next to your boyfriend on the sofa-not in the Wheeler house, at least. Once, shortly after you and Steve started dating, the kids had left you and Steve alone in the basement for five minutes while they grabbed snacks. Because you were still in the honeymoon stage of the relationship, it was simply impossible to keep your hands off each other. A little peck on the lips quickly morphed into a full-on makeout session. The two of you got so carried away that you forgot the kids were coming back. Upon returning, they discovered their favorite babysitter shoving his tongue down his girlfriend’s throat. Dustin awkwardly cleared his throat, and Steve gave such a start that he tumbled off the sofa and onto the floor.
After that scarring incident, Mike decreed that, under his roof, you and Steve needed to maintain three inches of distance between each other at all times. It was a completely original rule that he definitely hadn’t ripped off from somewhere, and Robin found it hilarious. She always made sure to act as a barrier separating the two of you “to prevent any funny business.”
Tonight was no different. Robin had squeezed into the narrow space between you and Steve while the three of you chatted on the couch. Now, she was ranting about a particularly annoying regular at Hawkins Family Video.
“…and he wastes so much of my time. Like, the store can be swamped, and he’ll still come up to the desk, looking for recommendations. He constantly asks if we have any recent releases, even though I’ve told him on multiple occasions that new shipments only arrive once a month.”
“Jeez. He must really like movies,” Steve said. When you scoffed, he frowned at you. “What? You don’t think he likes movies?”
“He might. But I’m pretty sure he just likes Robin,” you said. The girl in question rolled her eyes toward the heavens. You didn’t appreciate the attitude. “Oh, come on. He’s clearly just trying to get your attention. Nobody actually likes movies that much.”
“Hey!” Steve pouted. “I like movies!”
Robin glanced at Steve out of the corner of her eye. “Really, dingus? Because when we interviewed for this stupid job, you couldn’t even name one.”
“Well, yeah, but that was only because I was nervous,” Steve said. “I clammed up.”
“Sure it was.” Robin leaned her head back against the couch and turned her face toward you. “You really think he’s trying to flirt with me?”
“Yes, I do. Not that it matters, though. I’m pretty sure sweaty middle-aged guys who wear nothing but stained tank tops is pretty much the opposite of your ‘type.’”
Robin chuckled. “Yeah, you’re right. I think my type is ‘straight girls who are way out of my league.’”
“Hey, that’s my type, too!”
You and Robin both looked over at Steve. A smug smirk tugged at his pink lips; he was clearly proud of the clever contribution he’d just made to the conversation. It was cheesy, sure, but you still appreciated his slightly-clumsy attempt at complimenting you. However, Robin was quick to knock him down a peg.
“First of all, the whole ‘out-of-your-league’ thing is obvious, because you’re…in a league of your own, dingus.” Robin drew a tiny dot in the air with her pointer finger-“This is you”-and another, larger circle off to the side-“and this is everyone else. Besides” -Robin clapped her hands together once- “you’re clearly not just into straight girls. You had a crush on me, remember?”
“At the time, I didn’t know…“ Steve’s voice trailed off as blush crept onto his features.
“No, you didn’t. But that doesn’t mean I was any less of a lesbian when you confessed your love for me,” Robin said, eliciting a laugh from you and a glare from Steve.
“You’re the exception, not the rule,” he said defensively. “And I didn’t confess my love for you. The only girls I’ve ever said the ‘L-word’ to are Y/N and-”
“Nancy!” Robin exclaimed.
The name hit you like a slap in the face. Of course Steve had loved Nancy-you knew that-but Robin didn’t have run around yelling about it. You were about to mention that to Robin when you noticed someone standing at the foot of the stairs to the basement.
Someone needed to put a bell on Nancy Wheeler. She moved gracefully as a snowflake floating to the earth; her footfalls pattered against the ground like sprinkling rain. You sometimes wondered if weighed anything at all, or if helium ran through her blood instead of oxygen, always lifting her toward the heavens. She even dressed like an ethereal being, always wearing pastels, frills, lace, or a combination of all three.
Surprisingly, though, none of those elements had made their way into Nancy’s outfit that night. She wore a form-fitting red dress and matching lipstick. Her hair fell to her shoulders in loose curls, and the low neckline of her dress exposed her collarbones. She wore a touch more makeup than usual; in addition to the lipstick, she had applied a thin layer of eyeliner, blush on her already-rosy cheeks, and dark mascara to elongate her lashes. In spite of the skinny, unstable heels on her feet, Nancy’s smooth gait never faltered as she sauntered toward the sofa.
“Hey, Robin,” she said, then gave you and your boyfriend a nod of acknowledgment. “Steve. Y/N.”
Following Nancy’s lukewarm greeting, the four of you slipped into an uncomfortable quietness. You didn’t have anything personally against Nancy, but you preferred to keep her at a distance. Even though she and Steve had been broken up for more than two years, you knew how strongly he’d felt about her. Those feelings had definitely faded. However, you occasionally questioned whether or not the burning torch he carried for his first serious girlfriend had ever completely burned out.
The reminder from earlier that, once upon a time, Steve had confessed his love for Nancy Wheeler certainly didn’t help the situation. You glanced over at your boyfriend and immediately wished you hadn’t. He gazed at Nancy with wide, somewhat-wishful eyes.
“So,” Robin said, finally breaking the silence, “I assume this isn’t a lounge-around-the-house look.” She gestured to the red dress.
“No, it’s not,” Nancy said with a terse, nervous laugh. “Holly’s staying with a friend tonight, so my mom and dad offered to take Jonathan and me out for our anniversary. Celebrating our one-year with my parents isn’t exactly ideal, but they suggested this really fancy restaurant that we definitely wouldn’t have been able to afford otherwise. I tried to dress nice enough that I’ll be able to blend in-”
“You’re trying to blend in? In that?” Steve blurted.
Nancy’s face fell. “What? You think I’m still underdressed?”
“No, no, no, it’s not that. That’s not what I meant,” Steve stammered. “Red’s a good color on you, actually. You look great.”
The awkward silence returned with a vengeance. Heavy tension hung in the air like thick smog, soundlessly choking you. It even penetrated the little bubble the Dungeons-and-Dragons-playing-preteens had formed around themselves and settled over their conversation, too. No one dared to speak a word.
“We’re ready to go, sweetheart!” Mrs. Wheeler called.
Nancy mumbled something of a goodbye before turning on her heel and sprinting up the stairs. You waited for the sound of chattering voices growing muffled and a door slamming shut. Then, you looked over at Steve.
If he liked red so much, he must have loved the color of your skin.
“What the hell was that, Harrington?” you demanded. Robin, who was still parked in between the two of you, pressed into the back of the sofa, trying to create as much distance as possible.
“What do you mean?” Steve asked, big stupid doe eyes glimmering with perplexity. “I just gave her a compliment.”
“You’re not serious.” When he shrugged, your eyebrows flew into your hairline, and your voice rose an octave. “Steve, you were practically drooling over her.”
“She has a boyfriend, Y/N.”
“Yeah, and you have a girlfriend. But that didn’t stop you from flirting with your ex.”
An echo of “ooh”s sounded from the card table with the kids. When you raised your gaze, it met six pairs of eyes. A couple of them sheepishly cast their gaze downward, but the rest continued to stare unapologetically.
“I need some air.” You hopped up off the couch, grabbed your jacket, and stomped up the stairs. As soon as you were out of sight, everyone’s gaze switched back to the other half of the unhappy couple.
Steve made no move to follow after you. Instead, he stayed put on the sofa, arms crossed over his chest and lips pursed into a pout. If it hadn’t been for his excessively long limbs and the hint of stubble on his chin, one might have mistaken the almost-twenty-year-old for a toddler in time-out.
Once again, Robin was the first one to speak. “I can’t believe-”
“I can’t believe her, either,” Steve interjected. “God, overreact much?”
Robin puffed up her cheeks with air, then blew it out. “Actually, Steve, it’s you I can’t believe. That was a dick move.”
Steve leapt to his feet. His hands landed on his hips as he glowered down at Robin and asked, “Whose side are you on, anyway?”
Robin stood up, too. Even though Steve’s legs were a couple inches longer, it seemed like Robin towered over him as she said, “I’m on the side of reason.”
“And I’m not?”
“Not in this situation,” she said. “You’re in the wrong here, bud.”
Max’s whoop of agreement drew Steve’s attention to the kids. El nodded fervently. Steve, however, waved his hand dismissively and wrote them off with, “Of course you think that. You’re girls.” He turned toward the boys with a desperate glimmer in his eye. “I mean, you guys agree that she’s blowing this out of proportion, right?”
Much to Steve’s chagrin, they all shook their heads. With the exception of Will, all of the boys had something to say. Unfortunately, none of it was what Steve wanted to hear. Mike claimed that it definitely seemed like Steve was hitting on his sister, and Dustin suggested he stay away from Jonathan for a few days, unless he wanted to get his ass kicked again. Lucas warned that Steve was in “really deep shit.”
“Like, take the deepest shit you’ve ever been in,” he was saying, gesturing with his hands as he spoke. “Then, multiply that by a hundred, maybe even a thousand-”
“Okay, okay, I get it. I messed up.” Steve plopped back down on the couch. He ran his fingers through his hair and wondered aloud about what you were thinking right now.
“She’s probably debating whether or not to key your car,” Max piped up. El stifled a giggle.
“God, I hope not. I drove one of my dad’s cars over here, and if that thing comes home with even a scratch on it, I’m dead meat.”
(Fortunately, you hadn’t built up a sufficient store of rage to fuel a desire to do permanent damage to Steve’s vehicle. You were, however, angry enough to trace profanity into the dust on the car. While your act of vengeance would go unnoticed for several days, Mr. Harrington would eventually notice the word “shitface” written in looping cursive on each of the dirty windows and ask his son what kind of dumbass prank he thought he was pulling.)
“Okay, so, what do I do?”
“Go talk to her, dingus,” Robin said, nudging his foot with her own.
“What do I say?”
“Tell her you know you messed up,” Lucas said.
“And that you’re sorry,” El added.
“And that while Nancy’s hot, Y/N is way hotter,” Dustin suggested, eliciting a “Dude, that’s my sister!” and “Hey, that’s my girlfriend you’re talking about!” from Mike and Steve respectively. The three immediately began bickering.
“Shut up!” Max interrupted. “While you’re here arguing about which hotness-which is incredibly objectifying, by the way-Y/N is out there in the cold, waiting for her asshole of a boyfriend.”
After Max’s harsh words, Steve looked to Robin for reassurance. However, his friend gazed back without an ounce of sympathy. “I hate to agree with your children, but Max is right. You should go before she decides you’re not coming and starts to walk home or something.”
Steve nodded, swallowing the lump in his throat. Then, he rose to his feet and retraced the path you’d taken minutes before-up the stairs, through the house, and into the crisp December air. The obnoxiously creaky door announced Steve’s arrival. However, the figure sitting on the porch gave no indication of recognition.
You sat on the Wheelers’ front step, curled into yourself. You blew air into your bare hands in a vain attempt to warm them. Little clouds of your breath floated toward the star-speckled sky. Your thin jacket wasn’t nearly heavy enough to withstand the bitter cold of the Indiana winter; as a gust of wind blew across the porch, a shudder ran down your spine.
Automatically, Steve shrugged out of his coat. When he draped it over your shoulders, you continued staring straight ahead. As Steve sat on the ground beside you, it took every ounce of self-restraint to keep from wrapping his arm around you, too. The two of you simply existed there together silently for a moment while Steve gathered his thoughts.
“Look, Y/N. I’m really sorry for what I said in there-how I acted.”
Aside from a sniffle, you made no other noise, so Steve continued.
“I made a dumb comment, and then I made the situation a hell of a lot worse by-by everything I did, honestly,” he said. “I was a real dick.”
“Yeah, you were,” you said, finally breaking your unofficial vow of silence.
“I know.” Steve heaved a hefty sigh. For the next few moments, only the whistling wind dared to make a sound.
Then, you spoke a single word: “Steve.” He’d heard his name hundreds, maybe even thousands, of times. Yet, he’d never heard it like that. No one had ever woven such deep sorrow into his five-letter name.
And when you turned your head, your bloodshot eyes conveyed the exact same sentiment with a million times the intensity.
“You still love Nancy, don’t you?” Though a “no” automatically rolled off his tongue, your somber expression never faltered. The strain was evident in your voice as you told him, “Don’t lie to me.”
Suddenly, the lump in his throat was back with a vengeance. He choked out, “Why would you say that?”
You scoffed, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.
“I saw the way you looked at her, Steve,” you said, though it came out as more of a hiss.
Steve’s single brain cell once again bounced around in his mostly-hollow skull. This time, it desperately tried to connect the dots. What were you talking about? Honestly, as soon as Nancy had come down the stairs in that red dress, he’d blacked out a little. Steve figured he had to be dreaming; he couldn’t believe Nancy Wheeler, who Tommy H and Carol had long referred to as “the school prude”, wasn’t covered from head to toe.
What you’d mistaken for desire was genuinely just surprise. Steve communicated this to you to this best of his ability, and while your boyfriend certainly wasn’t the most eloquent speaker, you got the point. “Besides,” he said, “you’re way hotter than Nancy Wheeler.”
You gave a small “tsk” vaguely reminiscent of a laugh. “Did Dustin tell you to say that or something?”
“…maybe,” he admitted. When you gave him a playful shove, he knew all was forgiven.
“You know, someday, you’re going to run into trouble, getting dating advice from literal children,” you said.
“It works in your favor, though. They always take your side.”
Steve reached for your hand. You watched as your fingers intertwined and winced as his icy palm met yours. It felt more like holding hands with a popsicle than a warm-blooded boy.
“Come on,” you said, pulling him to his feet and starting the three-foot-trek to the front door. “Let’s go inside before you get hypothermia.”
“Wait.” A gentle tug of your hand brought you spinning back into Steve’s arms. “While I can still touch you without Mike Wheeler chiding us for PDA…”
Steve pressed his blue-hued lips to yours. Somehow, his mouth was still warm-the only part of him, aside from his heart, that the elements could never truly touch, try as they may. Steve tasted of chocolate and sickly-sweet marshmallows from the hot cocoa Mrs. Wheeler had made earlier. This wasn’t the first time you’d kissed him. Yet, Steve still left you lightheaded after he pulled away, as though he’d sucked all of the oxygen right out of your lungs.
“I love you, you know that?” he murmured, leaning his forehead against yours. “I really, really love you.”
“I love you, too, dork.” You kissed his cheek before untangled yourself from him and slipping your palm back into his. “Now, come on. I need to thank your friends.”
“Thank them?” Steve asked, tilting his head slightly like a confused puppy.
“Yeah,” you said with a wink. “I’ve got to thank them for taking my side.”
General Taglist: @novaddictx @anabundanceoffandoms @rexorangecouny @morganvanilla@anolddayslover
Steve Harrington Taglist: @broadwayandnetflix @explode-a-pult @whormotional @loulouloueh@peterhollandd
Stranger Things Taglist: @readinthegarden12 @lacunaclouds
If you want to be added to the tag list for a specific character/my writing in general, leave a reply or send me a message! Thanks again for reading. <3
If you want to check out more of my writing, here’s my masterlist. :)
SUMMARY: Steve takes you to the famous make out spot.
PAIRING: steve harrington x reader
WARNINGS: established relationship
"Are we there yet, Steve?" you asked impatiently. You hugged yourself, rubbing your arms as the cold autumn wind swept through the forest once more. Maybe you should have taken a jacket with you. But in your defense, you never would have imagined yourself in the middle of the forest on your way to skull rock with your boyfriend. You didn’t understand the appeal of traveling all the way to a stupid looking rock just to make out.
"Sorry," he said with an apologetic smile. "We're almost there. I promise it's worth it."
Steve noticed you rubbing your arms and frowned lightly. He shrugged off his jacket immediately and draped it around your shoulders. "Better?" In truth, Steve wanted to give you his jacket the second he saw you in the black longsleeve shirt and jeans. No coat in sight. As if the Hawkins weather this time of year was a joke.
You pulled Steve's jacket tighter around yourself. The additional layer made you feel warmer instantly. It smelled like Steve, which made it only feel better. "Yes, but won't you be cold now?"
"Don't worry, I'll be fine," Steve assured, waving off your concern. It wasn't like he was a stranger to the cold. Plus, if he got too chilly he will just pull you a little closer.
"So you can be a gentleman, huh?" you teased, as you wrapped your arms around his waist, in a sideways embrace, so that you could share body heat.
Steve chuckled and wrapped his arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer to him. "Oh, I'm a complete gentleman," he replied, a playful grin on his face. "If you haven't noticed by now, I'm a total catch."
"Oh, I have noticed. Believe me." Your arms tightened around Steve for a moment, before you removed them, so that you two could navigate better through the forest, without risking a broken leg. But before you even had the splinter of a chance to move too far away, Steve’s hand already found yours, to not lose his closeness with you and also to be able to pull you up in case you lost your footing on the leave covered ground.
"Good to know you recognize quality when you see it," he said, giving your hand a squeeze.
You rolled your eyes playfully. "You're an idiot."
"Your favorite idiot," Steve shot back. You laughed at that. Oh, how much you loved this man.
The forest began to thin out. Through gaps in the branches, you spotted a massive rock sitting on top of two smaller ones. The closer you were getting to the destination, the bigger Steve’s anticipation grew.
Steve came to a stop in front of the towering rock formation, glancing at you with a smile. "Ta-da, we're here," he said, gesturing with his free hand to the area around you. "This is Skull Rock, the infamous make-out spot. Pretty cool, right?"
Steve looked at you, curious to see your reaction. He'd been wanting to bring you here for a while now. But you didn’t share his enthusiasm, for well, a weirdly shaped rock. You let out a breath, before shrugging your shoulders. "I mean it kinda looks like a skull," you angled your head differently to see the rock from a different view. "But it could also be a potato."
"A potato? Never heard that one before." He let go of your hand and walked around to stand in front of you. His eyes were filled with amusement. "You know, most people would be a little more romantic about this whole thing."
You raised an eyebrow. "What's romantic about a skull or a potato?"
Steve gasped. "Excuse you, this skull is legendary! People write songs about this rock!"
You gave Steve a look. You could hardly believe that people were writing songs about a rock, much less good ones. But before you could call him out, Steve’s hands found your waist, pulling you gently against him. "Besides, it's more about the moment, the atmosphere, the company," he emphasized the last word. "not the rock itself."
"Well, the company would have been the same home, or in your car, or anywhere else," you said. "Unless you are referring to the probably twenty couples lurking somewhere around here as the company."
Steve rolled his eyes, but his smile remained intact. "You're just trying to ruin the moment, aren't you?" He knew you were somewhat right, but that wasn't the point. It was about bringing you to this spot that supposedly held some kind of romantic charm. "Come on, you're supposed to be swooning and gushing over me right about now." His grip on your waist tightened just a bit as he pulled you even closer. "I know you think it’s cliché… but can you just try to play along for a few minutes?"
"I think it would be easier to play along if you finally kissed me, instead of trying to sell me this rock like a tourist guide."
"Ah, so that's all I had to do," he murmured, his gaze dropping to your lips. He leaned in. "Alright, alright. No more rock selling. Just kissing. Got it."
And then Steve finally kissed you. You supposed you didn’t mind traveling for miles through the woods, if it meant being kissed like this by him. When you finally broke apart, you stayed close. "Okay, maybe I see the appeal now," you whispered a little breathless, before your lips met again.
Hiii! Can I request reader being giggly about cute Steve looks in his Scoops Ahoy uniform? Honestly, I find Steve really cute in his uniform 😙🍨🍦
Of course! And I agree, it’s highkey flattering on him even if it’s silly.
Warnings: None :)
Ahoy, Cutie!
The first time you saw Steve in his Scoops Ahoy uniform, you nearly lost it.
It wasn’t just the outfit—the dorky sailor hat, the blue-and-white color scheme, the little red neckerchief tied at his throat. No, it was him in the outfit. The way it contrasted so hilariously with the confident, cool-guy persona he always tried to keep up. The way he still somehow made it work.
And, let’s be honest, the way his arms looked in those sleeves.
You had barely stepped into Starcourt Mall before catching sight of him behind the counter, leaning against the register with an unamused expression, flipping through the pages of a magazine. The moment you saw him, a giggle bubbled up before you could stop it.
His head snapped up at the sound, eyes narrowing as he spotted you. “Oh, no. What’s so funny?”
You pressed a hand over your mouth, shaking your head as another giggle escaped. “Nothing, nothing!”
Steve sighed, tossing the magazine aside. “Don’t even try it. You’ve got that look.”
You tilted your head. “What look?”
“The ‘I’m about to roast you’ look,” he said, squinting suspiciously.
That only made you laugh harder. “Steve, I swear, I’m not roasting you!”
“Sure, you’re not.” He folded his arms, which, unfortunately for you, only made his biceps flex, and that was just unfair. Your brain short-circuited for a second before you pulled yourself together.
“It’s just that,” you started, struggling to keep a straight face, “you look so cute in your little sailor outfit.”
Steve groaned. “God, not you too.”
“Who else has said it?” you asked, grinning.
He waved a hand dismissively. “Robin, customers, Dust—literally everyone.”
“Well, they’re not wrong,” you teased, resting your elbows on the counter. “You look downright adorable.”
Steve sighed dramatically, rubbing his temples. “I am not adorable. I am manly. Rugged. Cool.”
You giggled again, unable to help yourself. “Sure, babe. Whatever you say.”
His eyes flickered at the pet name, and for a second, his smug persona cracked. He cleared his throat, tugging at his neckerchief. “You’re the worst.”
“And yet,” you leaned in with a playful smirk, “you love me anyway.”
Steve scoffed, but his ears were pink. “Yeah, yeah. Now, are you gonna order something, or are you just here to bully me?”
You tapped your chin, pretending to think. “Hmm… I was gonna get a cone, but honestly? Seeing you in that uniform has made my day.”
Steve rolled his eyes, but there was a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Unbelievable.”
“Absolutely adorable,” you said, your grin widening.
Steve shook his head, laughing under his breath as he grabbed a scoop. “One ice cream, coming right up. But just so you know, if you ever call me adorable again, you’re so paying for your ice cream next time.”
Your smile dropped as you gasped, bottom lip jutting out in a dramatic pout. “That’s not fair!”
Steve smirked, clearly pleased with himself. “Oh, I think it’s very fair.”
“But I have no plans to stop calling you cute,” you whined, leaning further against the counter. “I mean, look at you! How am I supposed to resist?”
Steve scoffed, but his smirk faltered when you batted your lashes at him. “You’re impossible,” he muttered, handing you your ice cream.
You took it with a satisfied grin. “Impossible and charming.”
Steve sighed, but there was no real exasperation behind it. “Yeah, yeah. Now go before I make you mop the floor or something.”
You took a slow, deliberate lick of your ice cream, eyes twinkling with mischief. “See you later, sailor.”
Steve groaned as you walked away, but you caught the way he fought back a smile, shaking his head as he watched you go.
You were definitely never gonna stop calling him cute.
