wedding people
Pairing: Steve Harrington x female reader
Summary: You get paired up with Steve at a wedding and are forced to spent the entire evening at his side. Between walking down the aisle together and dancing under the stars, something shifts and it will never be the same.
Warnings: Steve having a huge crush on you. admiring. yearning. flirting. anxieties. insecurities. no use of y/n.
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The wedding venue looked like something straight out of a magazine.
White roses wrapped around wooden arches. Strings of lights hung from tree branches. Guests milled around the garden in expensive clothes while a string quartet played somewhere nearby.
And unfortunately for both you and Steve, the wedding coordinator had decided you would be spending the entire day together.
"Oh, perfect!" she'd said that morning. "You two can walk together in the processional. And I'll have you helping guests find their seats. Then you'll hand out favors after dinner."
Steve had smiled politely and so did you. The second she left, you both stared at each other.
"Well," Steve said, rubbing the back of his neck. "Guess we're coworkers now."
You laughed. The sound hit him harder than it should have. He'd had a crush on you for almost a year now. Ever since senior year, honestly. But Steve wasn't exactly the guy he'd been back then.
Back then he was King Steve.
Now he scooped ice cream for twelve-year-olds wearing a sailor outfit. And somehow every time he thought about asking you out, he heard his father's voice.
You're wasting your life. You had everything handed to you and still screwed it up. Ice cream? Really?
Steve hated how much those words stuck around. Especially when he looked at you. Because you deserved somebody impressive. Not a guy who spent his afternoons serving mint chip.
"Steve?" He blinked.
You were smiling at him. "You coming?"
Right. The wedding. Focus.
"Yep. Totally. Professional wedding employee. That's me."
You laughed again. And Steve nearly forgot how walking worked.
The first assignment was greeting guests. It sounded easy but it wasn't. Mostly because every elderly woman attending the wedding seemed absolutely determined to play matchmaker.
"Oh, aren't you two precious?" one grandmother said.
You nearly choked and Steve looked ready to launch himself into traffic.
"We're not—"
"Nope," Steve blurted.
The woman raised an eyebrow. "You interrupted each other."
"Oh my God," you muttered.
"You finish first," Steve said immediately.
"No, you."
"No, seriously."
The old woman smiled knowingly. "Young love." Then she wandered away.
The two of you stood frozen until finally Steve groaned. "I'm moving to another state."
You burst out laughing. "That's a little dramatic."
"You don't understand. She looked into my soul."
"You have a soul?"
Steve pressed a hand over his chest. "Ouch."
You grinned and Steve thought he could probably spend the rest of his life trying to make you smile like that.
By the time the ceremony started, your nerves had mostly settled. At least until Steve offered you his arm. For the processional of course. Your heart immediately forgot how to function.
"You okay?" he asked.
"Fine."
"You look terrified."
"I'm walking in front of two hundred people."
"Good point."
The music began. You both started down the aisle. Halfway through, Steve leaned slightly closer. "If it helps," he whispered. "I think everyone is looking at the bride."
You snorted. Right there in the middle of the wedding. Steve had to bite the inside of his cheek to stop himself from laughing. The horrified expression on your face afterward nearly killed him.
"You made me laugh."
"You laughed voluntarily."
"You started it."
"That's not how laughing works."
Somehow you both made it to the front without completely embarrassing yourselves.
The reception was worse. Or better depending on who you asked. The sun was setting. Fairy lights glowed overhead, music drifted through the warm evening air and somehow every task kept putting you right next to Steve.
Handing out favors. Moving decorations. Delivering messages between relatives.
At one point you both got sent to find extra champagne glasses. Which led to twenty minutes alone in a storage room.
"These weddings are insane," Steve said.
"You've spent the entire day complaining."
"I'm providing commentary."
"You called the flower arrangements 'aggressively floral.'"
"They are."
You shook your head and Steve smiled. Then his gaze softened, because you looked so beautiful. Not just because of the dress. Though, yeah, the dress definitely wasn't helping.
It was the way your eyes lit up when you laughed. The way you talked with your hands. The way you were always kind to people. Even strangers.
And suddenly he felt that familiar knot in his chest. That awful little voice.
What are you doing? Look at her. And look at you. Just a guy working at Scoops Ahoy. A guy who couldn't even figure out what he wanted to do with his life.
You deserved somebody better. Somebody with a plan. Somebody successful. Not—
"Steve?"
His head snapped up to find you looking at him with concern in your eyes. "You disappeared for a second."
"Oh." He forced a smile. "Sorry."
You stepped closer. "Everything okay?"
And there it was. That thing you always did. Actually caring. Actually noticing.
Steve swallowed. "Yeah."
You clearly didn't believe him. But you let it go. For now.
Steve smiled at something you said, but the conversation had already become background noise. Not because he wasn't listening. Because he was trying very hard not to stare.
The storage room wasn't exactly romantic. There were folding chairs stacked against one wall. Boxes of decorations. Spare tablecloths.
And somehow it was still the most dangerous place he'd been all year. Because you were standing barely three feet away. Close enough that he could see every little expression that crossed your face.
Close enough to notice the way your earrings caught the light when you moved. Close enough that his brain kept supplying increasingly terrible ideas.
Just kiss her. Steve immediately shut that thought down. Absolutely not. Terrible plan. The worst plan. A catastrophic plan.
You were helping at a wedding, not auditioning to be ambushed by an idiot with a crush.
Still ... his eyes drifted traitorously, to your lips.
Seriously. One kiss. God. What was wrong with him?
What if eventually you looked at him and saw exactly what everyone else saw?
A guy who couldn't get into college. A guy serving ice cream in a sailor uniform. A guy with no idea what came next.
You deserved somebody who had their life together. Somebody with a plan. Not someone who spent half his shifts getting yelled at by sticky children. The thought settled heavily in his chest.
Then you laughed. Just a small laugh. Barely louder than the music drifting in from outside. And somehow it shattered every miserable thought in his head.
Steve felt his heart do something embarrassingly dramatic.
I like her so much. The realization hit him with almost painful clarity. It was not just a crush. Not just because you were pretty. He liked talking to you. Liked making you laugh. Liked being around you. Liked the way the room felt lighter when you walked into it.
And for one reckless second, he imagined what would happen if he closed the distance between you.
If he reached for your hand. If he kissed you. Would you kiss him back? The thought alone made his pulse jump.
"Steve?"
He blinked. You were looking at him curiously.
"You've gone quiet. again"
His brain immediately abandoned him. Because all he could think was:
Yeah, because I'm trying very hard not to fall even harder in love with you in a storage room full of champagne glasses.
Instead he cleared his throat. "Sorry."
You smiled. And Steve's heart was completely, hopelessly doomed.
Later that evening, the dancing started. Steve had managed to avoid it for approximately eleven minutes.
Then you appeared holding out your hand to him.
"Oh no."
"Oh yes."
"No."
"Steve."
He pointed toward the dance floor. "There are people doing spins."
"You survived monsters."
"Monsters are easier."
You laughed. "One dance."
Steve sighed dramatically. "You drive a hard bargain."
You grabbed his hand before he could change his mind and just like that, he was pulled onto the dance floor.
The song was slow. Of course it was. Steve wanted to file a formal complaint with the universe, because how was he supposed to keep his cool with you pressed against him this close?
Your hand settled in his. His other hand rested carefully against your waist and suddenly every sarcastic comment vanished from his brain.
You looked up at him , smiling softly. And for a moment the entire reception disappeared.
"You know," you said quietly.
"Hm?"
"I've had a really good day."
Steve's heart stuttered. "Yeah?"
"Yeah." Your smile widened. "I think it helped having the right partner."
Something warm spread through his chest. Dangerously warm. The kind that made people say stupid things.
So he said the truth. "You are the best part of my day too."
Your breath caught. And suddenly neither of you were dancing anymore. Just swaying, looking at each other. Neither wanting to look away.
The reception ended late. Most guests had already left. The lights overhead glowed softly against the dark sky.
You and Steve sat together on the edge of the empty dance floor. Exhausted but comfortable.
You stayed quiet for a moment, then Steve sighed. "You know," He stared down at his hands. "I almost didn't come today."
"Why?"
He shrugged. "Didn't think I'd fit in."
You frowned. "Steve why would you think that?"
He laughed softly. "Stupid, right?"
"No, I just don't understand."
His smile faded. "I just…" The words felt embarrassing. But somehow easier around you. "My dad keeps reminding me that I'm just working at Scoops."
Your expression immediately softened.
"He acts like it means I failed and that I'm a total screw up." Steve stared at the floor. "Sometimes I kinda believe him."
The silence stretched. Then your hand found his, you fingers drawing slow circles on his skin. "Steve you are one of the kindest people I know."
His chest tightened and he almost interrupted you, but you didn't let him. "You make everyone around you feel safe." You squeezed his hand. "You spend your entire life helping people. Even when they don't deserve it."
Steve laughed quietly. "You sound pretty worked up about this."
"I am." You held his gaze. "And for the record? I don't care where you work."
The knot he'd been carrying around for months loosened. Just a little. Enough to breathe and enough to smile down at you.
Enough to realize you were still holding his hand. And neither of you seemed interested in letting go.
His eyes drifted to your lips. Then back to your eyes. "Can I do something really stupid?" he asked.
You smiled. "Probably."
"Helpful," he chuckled.
"You've survived this long. But if you call it stupid again, I have to punch you."
Steve laughed. Then he leaned in slowly, giving you every chance to stop him. You didn't.
The kiss was soft and sweet. The kind that made his heart completely forget how to function.
When he finally pulled back, both of you were smiling. "Wow," Steve whispered. "You have no idea how long I've wanted to do this."
You softly tugged at his tie. "What? Calling kissing me a stupid idea?"
Steve laughed and closed his eyes with a painful expression. "That's gonna haunt me from now on. And you will keep reminding me won't you?"
Your hands wandered up around his neck and found themselves buried in his hair at the base. "Hmm... maybe you can stop me from talking about it?"
His eyes light up with excitement, just before he narrowed them in admiration. "I might have one or two ideas how to do that."
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