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bcyhoods · 17 days

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“This heart is yours…It always has been, and it always will be.”

changed the game

pairing: Steve Harrington x reader

summary: steve would do anything for you, but he would never tell anyone why—until today

(i suck at writing summaries but it’s basically just 4.8k words of best friends to lovers with the best soccer mom ever!)

warnings: swearing, steve being adorable, slight violence but it’s only like one slap, fluff central

a/n: i really am a sucker for the best friends to lovers trope. enjoy!! <3

masterlist + taglist

(gif found on google, credits to owner)

You burst through the doors of Family Video, looking around the store frantically for the one person you needed to find until you finally spotted him reshelving movies in the corner. He (surprisingly) didn’t see you coming, so when you popped into his line of sight, he jumped.

“Jesus Christ!” Steve yelped, all the tapes in his arms clattering to the floor.

“Sorry,” You offered him a guilty smile, kneeling down to help him pick everything up. “Didn’t mean to startle you.”

“Uh, no, you’re—you’re all good. I was spaced the hell out.” Steve mumbled. “What’s up?”

“You’re going to Lucas’ game tonight, right?”

“Yeah, of course. Why?”

“Would it be okay if the boys and I hitched a ride?” You asked sheepishly. “I promised I’d drive them, but my sister called dibs on the car for her stupid date, and I—”

“Yeah, sure! No problem.” His response was immediate (and a bit squeaky too), head nodding so fast that his hair fell into his eyes. “I can pick you up at six, swing around and grab them on the way?”

“That sounds perfect! Thank you so much, Steve, you’re a lifesaver!” You beamed at him, passing off the rest of the fallen tapes into his arms and pulling him into a quick hug. He barely had time to react before you backed away, but your perfume lingered in his space. “I gotta get to work, but thank you again. I’ll see you tonight.”

Steve managed a weak wave goodbye before watching you retreat out the doors, mind still processing your conversation.

“Alright, I’ll shoot. When are you gonna tell her?” Robin’s voice pulled him out of his thoughts, and he looked over to see her leaning against the front counter with her chin propped up in her hand and a shit eating grin on her face.

“Tell her what?” He snorted, shoving the rest of the movies back on their respective shelves. Robin aimed a rather pointed look at him. “Seriously, what?”

“Oh, you’re serious?” She raised an eyebrow. When all Steve did was give her a dumb look, she sighed. “When are you gonna tell Y/N that you’re in love with her?”

Steve froze in his tracks, gaze whipping over to her incredulously. “What?”

“You heard me, dingus.”

“You’re insane.”

“Steve, you were literally just telling me yesterday about your date with Brenda tonight, and you just agreed to play soccer mom carting around a bunch of your kid friends, all because Y/N batted her eyes and said pretty please?”

“We’re friends, Robin. That’s what friends do.” He replied with a shrug, but even that seemed forced. “Besides, I can just call Brenda and reschedule, no big deal. She’ll understand.”

“I’m your friend too, and you wouldn’t even give me a ride home from school after band practice last week!”

“That was different!”

“Yeah, you’re not completely head over heels for me!”

“Y’know what?” Steve huffed, grabbing the movie cart and pushing it away from Robin. “I have work to do. I don’t need this.”

“Right, because you’re so hard at work reshelving tapes!” Robin called after him, to which he flipped her off behind his back.

Once Steve finished reshelving all the rewound tapes, he glanced back over at the counter to see if Robin was still behind it, and when he saw that she was helping an old lady in the far corner of the store, he hurried over to the phone, digging the scrap of paper that Brenda had given him out of his pocket and dialing her number. He drummed his fingers on the counter as it rang, trying to come up with a way to bail on their date at the last minute without seeming like a jackass.

“Hello?” Brenda’s sickly sweet voice poured through the receiver, and Steve cringed.

“Hey, Brenda, it’s Steve. Harrington.” He said weakly, twirling a pen between his fingers.

“Steve, hi!” She sounded happy to hear from him. “I’m looking forward to our date tonight!”

“Yeah! Um, about that…I hate to do this so last minute, but I just came down with the nastiest case of food poisoning, and I think we’re probably gonna have to take a raincheck on our date.”

“Oh no, you poor baby!” Brenda cooed. “Of course we can reschedule, no problem! Whenever you’re feeling better, just give me a call.”

“Thank you so much, Brenda, you’re a real saint!”

“Maybe I’ll swing by your place and bring you some soup?”

“No!” Steve blurted, then let out a forced chuckle. “No, I mean, I think food poisoning is contagious, and I’d be so bummed if you came by and I gave it to you.”

Brenda giggled, and he could just picture her twirling her permed blond hair around her finger like she always did around him. “You’re so thoughtful, Steve.”

“That, I am.” He sighed, squeezing his eyes shut. “I, um, I’ve gotta go…y’know—I’ll just call you sometime, yeah?”

“Feel better soon!”

Steve mumbled out a ‘thank you’ before hanging up, ignoring the guilt pooling in his stomach and instead focusing on how happy you’d looked when he said he could give you and the boys a ride.

“Does your ass ever get tired of all the shit that comes out of your mouth?” Robin asked innocently, pulling him out of his thoughts. Steve just flipped her off again on his way to the back room, where he collapsed into one of the flimsy plastic chairs with a heavy sigh.

Robin was right, he was head over heels for you (but she didn’t need to know that). After Nancy, Steve didn’t think he’d ever be able to connect with anyone ever again. But then you came along with your bright smile and witty comebacks and how much you cared about your friends, and he fell hard and he fell fast. You’d ruined him for anyone else, in the best possible way.

He’d been going on all these dates with different people, trying to find one person who he thought he could be happy with for once, but with every date he went on, his heart wasn’t in it.

You had Steve Harrington wrapped around your finger, and you didn’t even know it.

He’d do anything for you, so canceling a date that he didn’t even really want to go on was the least of his worries. Steve just hoped it didn’t end up backfiring on him in the future, because that would definitely not be a good look for him.

-------

“You’re baking. You hate baking, why are you baking?” Your older sister, Callie, furrowed her eyebrows in confusion as soon as she walked into the kitchen, eyeing the mess of baking supplies on the counter with you in the middle of it all.

You blew a stray piece of hair out of your face, hands too covered in sticky dough to touch anything else. “Cookies for Steve.”

“Cookies for Steve,” She repeated, nodding slowly. “Why?”

“Since someone,” You aimed a pointed look at her, “is taking the car tonight, he’s driving the boys and I to Lucas’ game.”

“Is he now?” She hummed, smirking.

See, what you didn't know was that Callie was friends with Brenda, the very same Brenda who was supposed to be going on a date with Steve tonight. Also the very same Brenda that had just called her sadly about Steve having food poisoning and canceling said date. Now hearing that he’d bailed on her to help you out, everything she’d been picking up on between you and Steve finally made sense.

The way Steve always hung onto your every word, gazing stupidly at you when you weren’t looking. Every single time he’d gotten you something just because he thought you’d like it. How he’d show up at your house and watch god awful movies with you, and she could hear both your snorting laughters all throughout the night.

And now this: Steve making up a bogus excuse to get out of a date all because you’d asked him for a favor.

There was no mistaking it—Steve Harrington was in love with you.

And you definitely felt the same way about him, because here you were, baking cookies for him like you were Betty Crocker despite your outspoken hatred for it.

“So what’s the deal between you and Steve anyways?” Callie asked nonchalantly, reaching across the counter to snag a handful of chocolate chips and popping them in her mouth.

“What deal?” You pulled open the oven to put the cookies inside to bake, setting a timer for ten minutes before turning back to her with furrowed brows to see that she was looking pointedly at you. “There is no deal with me and Steve, Cal, we’re friends. Friends help each other out.”

“Right,” She dragged out the word amusedly, like she didn’t believe a word you were saying. “So you don’t like him? Like, like him like him?”

“Me, like Steve?” You forced out a laugh, shaking your head. She nodded. “No, I don’t like him. Why are you asking?”

“Oh, no reason.”

“Weirdo.”

“Says the one covered in flour,” Callie shot back, wrinkling her nose at you. “Don’t you have to go get ready or something?”

One glance at the clock above the sink had you swearing like a sailor, because you now had less than an hour to clean up your mess, shower, get dressed, and let the cookies cool before Steve picked you up.

“Can you help me clean up?” You yelped, scrambling out of your dusty apron and chucking it at Callie frantically, who dodged it with an indignant noise.

“No, it’s your mess, you clean it!”

You were already hurrying down the hall to your bedroom, but you managed to catch yourself on the doorway as you yelled back at her. “I’ll take your laundry duty for the next three weeks!”

“Five!”

“Deal!”

-------

Steve watched you leap down the steps outside your front door, smiling as you waved wildly at him on your way to his car.

“Hi, Steve!” You chirped, sliding into the passenger seat smoothly. He nodded in acknowledgement, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel casually. “Thanks again for giving us a ride, I hope I didn’t crash any plans you might’ve had.”

“Nah, no plans. And you don’t need to keep thanking me, I’m happy to help out,” He chuckled, pushing down the nagging feeling in his gut and pulling away from the curb smoothly. “Whatcha got there?”

You cracked open the plastic container on your lap with a sheepish smile. “Cookies. Made them as a thank you, but—”

“Oh no, I’ll take that thank you,” He said quickly, opening his mouth without taking his eyes off the road. “Gimme one!”

Popping a cookie into his mouth with a chuckle, you wiped your fingers on the collar of his jacket, listening to him groan about how this was his favorite one and how you’d ruined it. All you did was roll your eyes playfully, cranking up the radio to drown him out, but Steve switched gears right away, singing along horribly to every song that played—especially if he didn’t know the words.

You couldn’t help but admire him from your side of the car, your eyes taking in every slope, curve, and contour of his face. From the sharp angle of his jaw to the curve of his pink lips; the scattering of freckles across his cheeks to the lines on his face that morphed into the cutest dimples whenever he smiled—in your eyes, everything about Steve Harrington was perfect.

Sure, he could be a little dumb sometimes, but that was another one of the things you loved about him.

And you did admit, the whole falling-for-your-best-friend thing wasn’t your smartest move, especially since that best friend was Steve freaking Harrington, who went on dates with different girls practically every other night and had a reputation for being quite the ladies’ man. You liked to think that he’d mellowed out since his King Steve days, but that didn’t mean that he didn’t have Hawkins girls lined up out the door to get their share of him.

You didn’t really have any right to feel the jealousy that you did every time Steve talked about how he went roller skating with Stacy from junior year trig, or went out for milkshakes with Carla from the girls’ volleyball team, but you couldn’t help it. Steve was out of your league, and there was nothing you could (or would) do about it.

“Hey, you okay?” Steve’s voice drew you out of your thoughts, and you saw that he was looking over at you in slight concern. When he saw you refocus, he smiled softly. “There she is. I was starting to wonder if I’d have to steal another cookie myself.”

“I, um, I’m good. I was just…thinking.” You mumbled, embarrassed at the thought of being caught thinking about Steve by Steve.

“Thinking, huh? Care to share?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” You teased, eyes glinting with amusement.

“I would, actually. Sometimes I wonder what goes on in that mind of yours.”

“Maybe another time, Harrington.” You giggled, offering out another cookie as a consolation prize that Steve plucked right out of your fingertips. The car slowed to a stop outside of Dustin’s house, where the curly haired boy was already waiting outside impatiently, brows furrowed in confusion at the sight of Steve’s car but hopping in nonetheless. “Hey, Dustin! Sorry we’re late.”

“It’s fine, the game doesn’t start for another fifteen minutes,” He assured you, then turned right to Steve. “But what are you doing here? I thought you were going—”

“We should really get going if we wanna pick up the rest of the gang and get to the game on time!” Steve interrupted forcibly, shooting Dustin a very pointed look in the rearview mirror.

“But—”

“All buckled in, Henderson?” Dustin nodded slowly. “Alright, time to go!”

Without further ado, Steve pulled away from the curb, cranking the radio back up and leaving Dustin (and now you) confused.

The atmosphere of the car ride to pick up Mike and Will, then to the high school, was awkward to say the least. The boys were in the back whispering about something you couldn’t make out and glancing at you and Steve in the front seat, while Steve was significantly less chatty with you than he was before Dustin got into the car. As soon as the car was parked, the younger boys filed out of the backseat, barely nodding at Steve’s promise to meet back here after the game was over in case anyone got separated before hurrying off towards the gym.

“I’m gonna say it because nobody else will, but what is wrong with those kids?” You asked incredulously, wrinkling your nose at how weird they were acting.

Steve just chuckled nervously, falling into step with you as you made your way slowly to the gym as well. “I ask myself that everyday.”

You noticed how Steve didn’t answer your question, but decided not to push in fear of making things more awkward than they already were now. The two of you made your way into the school in silence, passing off your tickets and finding an empty space midway up the wooden bleachers, an aisle away from the band. You caught Robin’s eye and waved at her excitedly, nudging Steve with your elbow for him to say hi too. He waved, purposely ignoring her smug gaze by focusing out on the cheerleading squad.

“Has Robin made her move on Vickie yet?” Your voice was soft in Steve’s ear, but still made his breath catch in his chest at the fact that you were basically leaning against him to be heard in the loud gym.

“She, uh—no, she hasn’t. Not that I know of.” He stuttered, gulping nervously.

“I think they’d be good together.”

“I keep telling her that, but she keeps pushing back,” Steve shrugged. “You should talk some sense into her.”

You smiled at him, patting his shoulder. “I think I will. Maybe I’ll swing by Family Video tomorrow.”

Right as Steve was about to respond, a shrill whistle from the referee signaled the start of the game, not leaving much room to discuss Plan Robin-gets-the-girl.

You couldn’t help but touch Steve every time something big happened during the game, whether it was latching your arm around his during a particularly risky play, elbowing him playfully when he made a sarcastic remark about the players, or much to Steve’s dismay, smacking his shoulder roughly every time Lucas touched the ball, as if Steve wasn’t watching the exact same game you were.

The final play of the game was by far the best, when Lucas hit a buzzer beating three to bring it all home, and you nearly knocked Steve over hugging him in excitement. He wrapped his arms around your waist, reciprocating your hug and taking it one step further by lifting you up off your feet for a few seconds. Your nose nudged against his hammering pulse point at that, which you just chalked up to the adrenaline of the game and not what it actually was—you throwing yourself into Steve’s arms without a care in the world. It made Steve’s heart hammer in his chest, so much so that he was still thinking about it as the crowd was filing out of the gym, the cool air doing wonders to sooth his flushed cheeks.

You nudged his shoulder gently, shaking him out of his head. “So, what do you think? Think we got a shot at winning the championships this year?”

“I’d say yeah, so long as Coach takes Sinclair off the bench and puts him in action.”

“I bet you could put in a good word for him, King Steve,” You teased, letting out a shriek of laughter and dodging Steve’s hands when he lunged towards you in retaliation.

“Get the hell back here, you little—”

“Steve!”

Steve stopped in his tracks at the sickeningly familiar, once sweet, now turned very, very angry, voice that rang out from behind him, sending his heart that was just swelling with happiness plummeting into his stomach. Squeezing his eyes shut, he turned around slowly to see none other than Brenda standing behind him, arms crossed over her chest and eyes glaring right at him whilst she snapped the pink bubble gum forcefully between her teeth.

“Hey—hey, Brenda!” He cleared his throat awkwardly in a sad attempt to keep his voice steady.

Shit, she looked mad.

“That food poisoning really cleared up fast, didn’t it?” She deadpanned, and if her gaze were lasers, they’d be boring a hole right through his head right now.

“Yeah, uh—about that, I’m really sorry,” Steve mumbled, scratching the back of his neck sheepishly. “It’s not you, it’s me.”

“Seriously? That’s the line you’re gonna use?” Brenda scoffed, rolling her eyes. “If you didn’t want to go out with me, you should’ve just said so instead of making up some bullshit excuse!”

“I didn’t mean to, I just—it came out! I’m sorry, okay?” He blurted, realizing a split second after that he’d definitely just made things a whole lot worse. She looked about ready to rip his face off as she stalked towards him angrily.

“It just came out???” She shrieked, eyes blazing with fury. “You’re an asshole and a coward, Steve, you know that?”

“A coward?” He arched an eyebrow. Asshole, yeah, he could admit that much. But coward? That one threw him for a loop.

“You heard me.”

“How am I—y’know what, I don’t even think I wanna know,” He shook his head, holding his hands up in surrender. “I’m sorry, Brenda. Truly, I really am. It was wrong of me to lie, and I apologize.”

“Fuck you, Steve.” She snarled. Steve saw her hand go up, but he didn’t even register that she’d slapped him until a burning pain took over the entire left side of his face. Even then, he could only stand there in stunned silence as he watched her storm away from him.

Meanwhile, you were watching the whole thing from a few feet away, going through a myriad of emotions at their interaction and ending wide eyed in shock at the sight of Brenda slapping Steve clean across the face.

“What the hell just happened?” You nearly collided with him as you rushed forward, your fingers instantly angling his chin towards you to assess the damage. An angry red hand imprint was already beginning to blossom across his cheek.

He squinted with a scrunched nose, feeling his face grow hot in embarrassment. “It’s nothing, I’m fine.”

“Steve, she just bitch slapped you across the face, that’s not nothing,” You pressed, dropping your hands to prop on your hips with a frown aimed up at him. “What was she talking about?”

Steve blew out a heaving breath, backing up a few paces. Everything was blowing up in his face right now. “I lied earlier. I did have plans tonight. I was, uh, I was supposed to be coming to the game with Brenda…on a date.”

“Steve, really?” You gasped, bringing your hands up to cover your mouth. “Oh, this is all my fault, I shouldn’t have—”

“No! No, Y/N, this isn’t your fault. It’s mine, I should’ve said something.” He sighed, dragging a hand through his hair. “This is on me.”

“Why didn’t you tell me you had plans? I would’ve figured something else out.”

Steve had two options. He could either use the same line about wanting to be a good friend that he used to justify his choice to Robin earlier, or he could man up and come clean, actually tell you why he dropped plans for you. Finally confess that he was in love with you.

But the way you were looking at him, all confused and guilty and so beautifully conflicted at the same time, he couldn’t lie to you anymore.

“I need to tell you something,” He blurted, getting the ball rolling so he wouldn’t chicken out. You tilted your head at him curiously, your expression inviting him to get what he needed to off his chest. Steve inhaled a sharp breath first, steeling his nerves. “The reason why I lied about my date, it’s—it’s the same reason why I keep going on so many dates.”

“I’m not following…”

“I go out on all these dates with all these different girls to distract me from the fact that there’s one girl who owns my heart. One girl that has me so wrapped around her finger that I’d do anything for her, no matter how big or small.”

“Steve,” You said softly, your breath hitching in your chest at the way he was stepping closer to you with every word with the most serious and the most nervous look you’d ever seen grace his face. “What are you saying?”

“I’m in love with you, Y/N, so goddamn much that it hurts. I’ve been in love with you for…god, I don’t even know how long now,” Steve was nearly nose to nose with you now, taking your hand and placing it on his chest, right above his jackhammering heart. He didn’t care how many people were watching right now; he was on a roll and there was no way he was going to stop himself. Steve didn’t think he could even if he tried. “This heart is yours, Y/N L/N. It always has been, and it always will be.”

You didn’t even realize there were tears rolling down your cheeks until the rough pads of Steve’s thumbs swiped under your eyes gently. “You’re crying. You’re—shit, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to make you cry.”

Then he was backing away quickly, hands trembling in uncertainty at your reaction to his confession, because shit, out of all the times he’d imagined this whole thing going down, not once did he expect you to start crying.

It was damn near impossible for you to find the words to convey the knot of feelings pooling in your gut, so you did the next best thing that you could think of to make Steve understand that you loved him too. You surged forward before he could back off completely, body crashing against his and arms winding around his neck, and you kissed him. Hard. Lovingly, but yeah, still hard.

Steve froze again for what seemed like the hundredth time today, his brain short-circuiting at what was happening at this very moment. You. Him. You were kissing him. In the middle of the parking lot. For pretty much all of Hawkins to see.

Holy shit.

You were kissing him.

Kissing you was better than Steve had ever imagined—and he’d imagined it a lot. You tasted heavenly sweet, like the strawberry chapstick you always wore and the chocolate from the cookies you’d eaten earlier, and it made him weak in the knees. His hands were traveling up and down your back, resting at your waist, pulling you closer, moving like he didn't know what to do with them but didn't want to let you get away. Yours, on the other hand, stayed firmly planted in his hair, which—despite all the products that you'd always seen strewn across his bathroom counter at home—was surprisingly soft to the touch.

It wasn’t until you heard a series of wolf whistles from passing students that you remembered you were in the middle of the parking lot, kissing Steve right out there in the open for everyone to see. And it was that thought that had you pulling away from his addicting lips, pressing your forehead against his as you tried to catch your breath after the kiss had pulled it out of both your chests.

The world felt like it was spinning when you pulled away from him, like you’d just gotten drunk off his kiss, and you missed it already.

“Whoa,” He panted, chest heaving. “What was—you…what was that?”

You gnawed on your lower lip in contemplation, pondering how to word this in the best way. “In the car earlier, you said you wanted to know what I was thinking about.”

“I remember.”

“I was thinking about you.”

“Me?” His voice was soft, honey brown eyes lighting up at your words.

“Yeah, you. And how I’m in love with you too.”

“You are?”

“I love you, Steve Harrington.”

Steve couldn’t help the dopey grin that stretched across his face at your words. “That—wow, that feels really good. Just hearing you say it.” He chuckled breathlessly, thumbing at your waist. “Can I kiss you again? Please?”

“You can kiss me whenever you want.”

“God, that’s even better.”

He leaned in to kiss you again and you gladly reciprocated, subconsciously bringing your hand up to cup his face as he dipped you down slowly. As soon as your palm came in soft contact with his cheek, however, Steve hissed. “Ow, shit—”

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry,” You yelped, pulling away from him in a panic. “I forgot!”

“No, it was worth it,” He groaned, wincing slightly as your fingers ghosted across the handprint across his cheek once more. “So worth it.”

“We should probably get some ice on that.” You chuckled, lacing your fingers through his and tugging him towards the car, where Dustin and the rest of the boys were all waiting with crossed arms and smug ass smiles.

“About high time you guys figured it out!” He exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air exasperatedly. “God, I thought I was gonna have to confess for you, Steve.”

“Shut it, Henderson,” Steve rolled his eyes, but was still smiling nonetheless whilst snaking his arm around your waist. “Get your asses in the car, I’m taking everyone home now.”

“Why, so you can spend more time sucking face with your girlfriend?” teased Lucas, mimicking kissing the air childishly.

“I’ll make you walk, Sinclair!” Lucas pushed past Will into the backseat without another word. “That’s what I thought.”

The rest of the boys were quick to follow, none of them wanting to make the trek all the way home in the dark. You just shook your head amusedly, climbing into the passenger seat. Steve immediately took your hand as soon as he slid into the driver’s seat, resting it on the gearshift with his on top, but not before pressing a kiss to your knuckles. And when you beamed at him lovingly, he couldn’t help it. He leaned over the center console, capturing your lips in a soft kiss without giving two shits about the noises of disgust and retching coming from the boys in the backseat at his lovesick actions.

Because, in a twist of fate that somehow worked in his favor, Steve got the girl. He finally got you, the girl he’d always wanted but never in a million years thought he’d ever be so lucky to call his. The girl that changed the game for him.

#oh when you said you had the characterization down. YOU HAD IT DEOWN #firstly. i luv oblivious idiots in love it makes me so feral #canceling a date in a heartbeat??? setting aside a hatred of baking to make him cookies??? BUE #also just steve lying to save brenda’s feelings and then it backfiring is so steve #getting hit in the face is also very steve!#‘that’s what friends do’ he says holding back giggles and hiding his blushing face🤨🤨🤨#this was so so cutesie i was smiling the entire time #and the ‘it’s me steve. harrington.’ made me giggle THATS so him #౨ৎ fic recs: steve harrington

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