#steve harrington story
Text
not just on christmas
pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader
summary: steve’s parents are coming home for the holidays and he’s in need of a fake date. who better than you, his best friend?
word count: 8.2k
warnings: steve’s parents (derogatory), negative comments about his job, fake dating, friends to lovers, christmas themes, fluff, first kiss!
a/n: i had lots of fun with this one and i hope u guys like it!!! merry christmas and happy holidays i hope they treat u all well <33 consider this my gift to you :D
༄
The phone ringing forces Steve out of bed. Floors cool on his feet, the air a chill on his bare chest, he rubs his eyes lazily and picks it up.
“Hello?” He clears his throat to get rid of the sleep in his voice.
“Steve, why do you sound tired, it’s nearly noon!”
It’s no surprise that the first words aren’t asking him how he is. He’s shocked she cared enough to pick up on the tone of his voice at all. “Hi, mom.”
He doesn’t even know where she’s calling from, doesn’t know what business trip they're on. He can’t remember the last time he got a phone call that wasn’t you, or Robin, or Dustin, or anyone else other than his parents.
Steve’s not even excited to be hearing from them, because it’s a reminder that they’re not around, that they haven’t forgotten about him, they just don’t care.
He wishes you were the one that called.
“Listen, sweetie, your dad and I are coming home for Christmas this year, isn’t that great?”
He deflates, “yeah. Super.”
“There’s a business event he wants to take you to. And we’ll find you a date,” there’s the catch. There’s always a catch. “You can make some connections, maybe get out of your job at that video store soon.”
The thing is, he actually likes working at Family Video, but he knows that doesn’t matter. Then there’s the topic of the girlfriend, or lack thereof. His parents are always nagging him about when he’ll settle down, grow roots, or something.
Maybe that’s why he says, “I can get my own date. I have a girlfriend.”
“Oh! That’s fantastic! She’ll have dinner with us, won’t she? What’s her name?”
Like an idiot, he says your name. The first one that came to his mind.
You’re his best friend, and it’s easy to let his thoughts drift to you. The problem is, he has no idea how he’s going to explain this to you, how he can ask you to fake date him just to satisfy his parents for once.
If he wasn’t still on the phone, Steve would be groaning into a pillow right now.
“Okay, sweetie, your dad has a brunch we have to get to. We’ll see you soon!”
“Bye, mom. See you.”
He hangs up and sighs in relief. That feeling is quick to fade when he remembers that he had just named you his girlfriend in the midst of his phone call. He drops his face into his hands, runs them through his hair, and tries to figure out how the hell to bring up the subject with you.
To go along with that, he has to worry about his parents coming home. Though, can they really call it ‘home’ when they’ve been gone for so long? When they’ll leave again after a few days, a week at most?
Most people would be happy, excited, about their parents being around for the holidays. Steve’s not. He’d rather spend it how he has since the two of you became friends. Breakfast at your house with your family—who have become family for Steve, too—presents opened with scented candles burning and Christmas albums spun on the record player.
You went out of your way to include him, and he’s never felt so welcome in his life as he does when he’s with you.
At least, if you agree, you’ll be with him this year, too.
-
It’s the next day when Steve decides to bring it up. You’re at his house for movie night, which has become a weekly ritual for the two of you. He’s been trying to figure out what exactly to say since he hung up the damn phone. He’s given up and instead hopes it’ll come to him in the moment.
Today, Steve’s quiet, which is unlike him. You know something’s on his mind and you try to avoid asking him about it, trying to let him talk about it on his own time. It’s about halfway through the movie that you change your mind.
He didn’t complain when you showed up with your cheesy Christmas movie choice, he didn’t light-heartedly tease you about your outfit of choice (some festive patterned pajama pants and a sweater that’s so worn there are holes in the neckline), and the most unusual, he didn’t make a single joke or comment as the movie played.
He’s really, really quiet.
You pick up the remote and pause it, “what’s going on with you, Steve?”
He looks at you, catches your eye and sees nothing but genuine concern. Sometimes he hates the way you know him so well. He can never hide anything from you.
“What? Nothing.”
You blink at him, “come on.”
“Fine, okay. Just, don’t say anything until I’m done, please.”
“Okay,” you pretend to zip your mouth shut, ready to listen.
“My mom called yesterday and told me they’re coming home for Christmas, and that there’s this business thing they want me to go to, and that I need a date for it,” he scrubs a hand down his face, trying to hide his embarrassment. “And you know how they’re always on my ass about me being single and stuff so I kind of told her I already had a girlfriend, and maybe I told her that girlfriend is you.”
What?
There’s a lot to process there. Mostly the fact that out of all of the names he could have chosen, he said yours. You wait for him to explain some more, but he’s looking at you like he’s waiting for a reply, so, your mouth is now unzipped.
“So, what exactly does that mean?”
He mutters a curse under his breath. “Um, so, I need you to pretend to be my actual girlfriend while they’re here.”
His use of the word ‘need’ is telling. Steve’s not one to ask for help, not even when he needs it the most but here he is, nervous and a little pink-cheeked, asking for your help.
You let the thought sit in your head for a bit. It’s not hard for you to want to agree. Steve’s your best friend, and you’d do pretty much anything for him. Though, that might also have to do with the fact that you’ve been in love with him for years.
You know more about his relationship with his parents then most do, so if you can make their visit more bearable for him in any way, why wouldn’t you?
“Okay,” you say.
“Okay? Like, you’ll do it?”
“Yeah, sure. I’m happy to help.”
That was a lot easier than Steve thought it’d be. You barely even questioned him before agreeing, and that’s not lost on him.
“Thank you so much, seriously,” he throws his arm over your shoulders, squeezes you to him in a side hug. “It’s only a few days, then we can go back to normal.”
“Easy peasy,” you say, reaching for the remote and hitting play.
Aside from your wanting to help him, to be there for him like you know he would for you, you’re also curious to see what it’s like to be with Steve that way, even if it’s fake. It’s hopeless, the way you love him, like the moon orbiting the earth around and around. Constant.
Sure, those feelings will probably only swell because of the fake relationship, but you’ve been housing them for long enough anyway.
What could go wrong?
-
“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Robin says from the other side of a clothing rack, sifting through the pieces.
She’s the first, and only, person you told about the fake dating thing. Naturally, she decided she’d help you shop for a dress to wear to this business thing and talk about it at the same time.
The mall is decorated, garlands and lights strung, a big Christmas tree lit up in the middle of it all.
“It’s only a couple of days. It’ll be fine.”
“I’m talking about you being in love with him,” she deadpans.
“Robin, not so loud.”
“I just don’t want you to get hurt.”
You know she’s being honest, and though the thought has been at the back of your mind, a whisper, you’d like to believe that you can handle a fake relationship without ruining things because of your big, big feelings.
“I spend time with him alone a bunch. It’s not that much different, okay?”
“Besides the fact that you’ll be calling him boyfriend and acting like it, too, you mean.”
Actually, you’ve been trying not to think about what exactly pretending to be his girlfriend entails. You don’t know if he’ll hold your hand, if he’ll hold you closer than he has before, if he’ll kiss you. You think it might be better to wait and see, to not let the possibilities eat at you.
“I know it sounds bad, but it’s Steve. Nothing major will happen. We’re friends and I’m helping him out.”
Robin’s in a tricky spot. She knows how you feel about Steve, obviously, and though he doesn’t see it yet himself, she knows that Steve feels the same, too. It’s taken a lot to hold herself back from speeding things along, and as much as she wishes this fake relationship plan might be a good push, things usually aren’t so easy.
She can also tell that there’s a lot you’re thinking but not saying, but instead of pushing it, she returns to looking at the dresses. It’s not long before she gasps, pulling one of the rack to show you.
“This one,” she says.
“I don’t know. That won’t look good on me.”
It’s pretty, though. You’ll give her that.
“Shut up, everything looks good on you. Will you at least try it on?” She wiggles the hanger in her hand, “for me?”
“Fine.”
You take it from her, walking back towards the fitting rooms with a grinning Robin in tow. She waits outside the door while you change into the dress.
Once it’s on, looking in the mirror, you don’t even know what to think. You’re not one to feel all that confident in what you wear, or in how you look, but this dress makes you feel pretty. Maybe you should make Robin pick out all of your clothes.
“Let me see!” Robin calls.
You step out of the changeroom, doing a shy little spin when she asks. She’s smiling proudly, like she knows she chose well (which she did). She can’t help but think of how Steve will react, because she knows he feels something for you, she can see it on his face everytime he talks about you. He’s just a dork and he doesn’t realize it. Not yet, at least.
“What do you think?” You ask.
“If Steve’s not already in love with you…”
“Don’t finish that sentence.”
If she does, your brain will conjure up way too many ideas of what could possibly happen. If Steve could really feel the same. If maybe he’ll feel those same butterflies in his stomach that you do, if his heart feels bigger when you’re around. In your dreams, he does.
“I’m trying to tell you you look hot!”
-
December twenty-third is the day that Steve’s parents come home as well as the night of the business event. You and Steve have tried to figure out how to act like a couple, quizzing each other on things you already know, setting loose boundaries, but you figure after knowing each other for so long, being so close, it won’t feel much different than now. Besides the extra touching, the possibility of kissing.
You’re already at his house when his parents get home, your makeup and outfit for tonight sitting in Steve’s room. The two of you linger near the front door waiting for their arrival, a nervous and jittery welcoming committee.
The sound of a car pulling into the driveway grabs your attention. It’s a clapperboard snapping shut, marking the scene. Action.
“You ready, babe?” He holds out his arm for you to grab, and you do.
“Time to be the best couple ever,” you reply.
Steve grins at you. He has no idea how to thank you for agreeing to do this, how to even explain to you the relief you’re sure to bring. It’s one less thing for his parents to pick and pry at.
The door opens, and you can already feel a change in Steve’s demeanor. He’s standing straighter, stiffer. You squeeze his arm, a reminder that you’re there.
“Steve, sweetie!” His mother barely greets him before moving onto you, “and this is your girlfriend?”
“Hi, Mrs. Harrington.”
If it were someone else’s mother, you’d be hit with the usual ‘oh please, call me (insert name here).’ However, where the Harringtons are concerned, formality is a must. Besides Steve, of course. From what you know, the apple had fallen very, very far from the tree and you mean that as a compliment.
Even after being friends for so many years, this is the first time you’re actually meeting Steve’s parents. It’s clear that he’s never jumped at the opportunity to have his friends around when they’re home. He’s told you about them, and that’s enough for you.
“Steve! Come help me with the bags, would you?” His dad calls from outside, though he says it as a demand rather than a question.
“Yep, coming,” he replies. He kisses the side of your head before going outside, quick and sure, like he’s done it hundreds of times.
“How was your trip, Mrs. Harrington?” You fill the silence.
“Oh, just lovely, thank you,” she moves to the kitchen, expecting you to follow. “The house looks clean. Do you have something to do with that?”
Despite her trying to sound like she’s joking, you know that she truly doesn’t believe that Steve could be the one keeping the place going. As if he hasn’t been doing just that for ages.
“No, no. It’s really Steve.”
Her eyebrows raise, surprised.
Steve and his father walk in before anything else is said—thank God. You shake hands with Mr. Harrington, saying hello and wearing a tight smile. Steve’s quick to come to your side, an arm over your shoulders like a shield. Your hand moves to hold the one resting on your shoulder.
He’s even more tense when his father’s in the room, you’ve noticed. You hold his hand a bit tighter. You wish you could do something to make him feel better, and you hope that this fake relationship will do that at least a little bit.
Meanwhile Steve’s wondering how your presence could make him feel much better than he usually does with his parents around. You’re a comfort beside him, and when he gets the chance, he kisses your head again, whispering a ‘thank you’ into your hair.
-
The first few hours with Steve’s parents go by dreadfully slow, even with his touch on you most of the time. You’re quickly learning that as a boyfriend—even fake—Steve’s love language is easily physical touch. He has an arm around you, a hand in yours, on your leg, anything.
You’re also learning just how strained his relationship with his parents is. He’d trusted you enough to tell you most of it, but seeing them interact in front of you was different. The backhanded comments, the faces whenever he mentions his job, it makes your heart ache for him.
It’s bad enough that his parents are hardly ever around, but having them act like this when they are? You’re amazed at how good Steve has remained through it all.
When it’s time to get ready for the business party, you’re thankful for the reprieve.
“Think we’re doing a good job?” You ask Steve as he shuts the door to his room.
“They seem to be buying it. Thanks again for doing this.”
“You’ve thanked me like a hundred times, Steve. It’s okay, really.”
You want to tell him that you’re sorry these are the people he has to call family. That he shouldn’t listen to any of the shit they give him about his job or his lack of post-secondary education. That he’s the best boy you’ve ever known.
The problem is, you don’t know how to say all of that without making your feelings for him painfully obvious.
“Just gotta keep it up ‘til Christmas. That’s when they leave.”
“They’re only here for two days?” You knew the trip was going to be short, but forty-eight hours?
“Yeah, something about getting a deal on a cruise. I don’t know.”
He says it so casually, like it’s normal. You guess that for him, it is, but it doesn’t make it any less upsetting.
“Does that mean you’ll come to mine for Christmas day? Like usual?” You ask, hopefully lightening the mood.
“If you’ll have me.”
“Shut up, you’re always welcome. Think my mom likes you more than me anyway,” you nudge his shoulder with yours, then move to bring your stuff into his bathroom to start getting ready.
He leans on the doorframe, watching you set your makeup out on the counter, “she does not.”
“Steve, you have your own stocking hanging on our fireplace. And it’s bigger than mine.”
He smiles genuinely then, the first one since his parents have arrived.
He leaves you to get ready, shutting the bathroom door for when you change. You can still hear him through the door. The opening and closing of his drawers, a curse when he stubs his toe.
So far, pretending to be with Steve has been easy. You’ve acted the same save for the touches or small pecks he’s decided to keep placing on your head or your cheeks. The story you settled on was simple: you met him picking up a movie at Family Video, he asked if you needed company to watch it, the rest is history, blah blah blah.
Steve knocks on the bathroom door when you’re pretty much ready, you glance at yourself one more time in the mirror before opening it.
He stands with his tie in hand, wearing a button up and dress pants. You assume there’s a suit jacket to go along with it, and you think it might kill you. He’s so pretty, and he looks it all of the time but seeing him dressed up is really something.
“You look good, Steve,” you say. Good doesn’t even begin to cover it.
“Thanks. You look- you too.”
Steve’s stunned. He realizes he’s never seen you in anything formal and it’s making him feel all fluttery in his stomach and he doesn’t know what to think of it. He’s always known you’re gorgeous, in an obvious way like how the sky is blue. Now, though, it’s like he can feel it.
He clears his throat quietly and remembers the reason he knocked in the first place, “you don’t happen to know how to tie a tie, do you?”
You’re thankful for the time you decided to learn how when you were bored one day. You take the fabric from his hands, “it’s your lucky day, Steve.”
“Thank you. Didn’t wanna have to go ask my dad.”
He’s almost shy about wanting your help over something so small, his cheeks a little pink, his head bent. You give him a reassuring smile—or what you hope is one—and place the tie around his neck.
His eyes are on you as your hands fiddle with the fabric, doing it up for him. Your eyebrows are slightly scrunched, and he wants to reach out and smooth it out with his thumb. He’s not used to having that urge.
You finish up successfully after having fumbled a little bit, adjusting the tie so it isn’t crooked.
“There you go,” you pat his chest and he hopes you can’t feel his heartbeat, the way it’s quicker than normal.
He has no idea what that’s about.
“Thanks.”
“‘Course.”
He’s still standing close to you, enough that he has to keep his head tilted downwards just a little to be able to look at your face. Your eyes lock onto his, and time seems to slow. You’re so gone for him and you know it, but it almost seems like maybe he’s feeling something too. Just for a moment.
His father calling out that it’s time to go snaps you out of it.
Steve grabs his jacket, shrugging it on then offering you his hand to hold, “let’s do this, girlfriend.”
-
The hall is oozing Christmas when you walk in, Steve’s hand in yours. Ornaments hang down from the ceiling, warm white string lights line the top of the walls, Christmas music hums through the speakers, and an extravagant Christmas tree sits in the middle of the room.
You’ve never been to an event like it, and you have a hard time keeping your nerves at bay.
Pretending in front of Steve’s parents alone was one thing. Now, the stakes are higher. You have to be convincing and though it’s not difficult for you to pretend to be in love with Steve (you don’t have to fake that at all), you worry that you’ll slip up somehow and give yourself away. Both in the sense that the relationship is fake, and that your feelings are anything but.
It’s not long before Steve’s father gets pulled into a conversation, and his mother goes along with him. You’re left standing near the doorway with Steve, biting at the inside of your cheek.
“Relax,” he leans his head close to yours and whispers.
“Sorry. I’m just nervous.”
“We’re fine. You’re fine,” he squeezes your hand, something that’s quickly become a wordless reassurance between you. “We’ve done good so far, right?”
“I guess so.”
“Okay, so there’s nothing to worry about.”
Except for the fact that I love you and that you being a really good fake boyfriend isn’t helping.
“Okay.”
He smiles and leads you further into the room. The smile he gives you is different from the one he gives the people that say hi to him, the people that stop him for a chat. For you, it’s honest. For them, it doesn’t reach his eyes, it doesn’t mean anything.
“About time you tied someone down, Steve,” a man says to him. A coworker of his father’s, just like most men in the room.
“Think she’s the one who got me, but yeah.”
“That’s sweet. Next step is to get you a stable job, huh?”
It seems like all anyone here is concerned about is what people do, who they know. It’s no fun for you and they aren’t even speaking to you directly most of the time.
“Sure. Good to see you,” Steve excuses the both of you from the conversation.
“These people suck,” you say to him, leading him to the bar set up in a corner.
“Tell me about it.”
You order water for the both of you, something to get rid of the dryness in your throat and occupy you for a bit. You drink quietly before Steve speaks up.
“You look beautiful, by the way.”
He doesn’t know why it slips out now, but it does. The thought has been on his mind since he saw you standing there in his bathroom, and it’s getting harder and harder to ignore.
“You don’t have to say that, Steve. Nobody’s listening.”
“I mean it, seriously.”
“Oh,” you look down at your glass, at the condensation running down the side. The corners of your mouth lift, “thank you.”
“I know this isn’t the most fun, but I’m glad you’re here with me,” he admits. He’s always been sweet to you, but this feels different. You don’t know how or why, but it does.
“I am too.”
Steve’s dad interrupts your moment, pulling Steve off to meet some people. Already, there’s a guard being put up by him, a shield he saves for his father.
For those few minutes, where it was just you and Steve, you realized that he’s probably the best date you’ve ever had. He pays attention to you, he’s comforting without even trying, and he compliments you with so much honesty you could melt.
He’s the best date you’ve ever had and it’s fake. It’s becoming a mantra repeated in your head; it’s not real, it’s not real.
Lost in thought, you don’t notice the boy who’s sat next to you now.
“I’ve never seen you before,” he says.
“I’m not usually at these things. I came with my boyfriend,” you tell him, unsettled by his stare.
“And where is this boyfriend now?”
“He’s out there. I just needed some water but he’ll come back soon.”
You’re trying to get him to go away, to take the hint. He won’t.
“Why don’t I keep you company in the meantime?”
You’re about to reply when someone else does it for you, “not necessary. She’s my girl.”
My girl. Steve. He stands behind you, wraps his arms around your waist. It’s like he knew you needed him then, showing up as soon as you felt like you wanted to search for him. He runs his hands over your sides, a possessive touch that has your skin tingling.
“My bad, man. Thought she was lying about the boyfriend,” the guy says.
“She wasn’t. Even if she was, maybe you should learn to tell when someone isn’t interested, yeah?”
The stranger nods and walks off.
You spin in Steve’s hold, facing him. “My hero.”
“You know me,” he shrugs.
What he doesn’t say is that seeing another guy talk to you made his gut churn, bringing something that he didn’t want to admit was jealousy. He also saw the look on your face, the discomfort, and felt his feet carry him over before his mind could think it first.
His hands are still on your waist, even with the stranger gone.
-
It’s not until Steve’s parents are ready that you leave. They’ve taken advantage of the champagne that sat on trays, free for the taking, as well as the opportunity to talk up their son to many, many people. It seems they’re only proud of him when there’s other people around, and even then, the praise doesn’t hold much weight.
He’s trying his best. At least he’s working. He’s got a girlfriend now. No, he doesn’t host backyard parties while we’re gone anymore.
You wish you could speak up, but you know, with this many people around, it’d cause more harm than good. It’s hard to listen to the people that raised Steve talk about him the way they do. You want so badly to shout in their faces how brilliant he is, no thanks to them. How he has the kindest soul and a sort of midas touch that makes everything shine.
At least, you think he does. You promise yourself to love him better than they ever did, even if it’s in secret.
One memory from the night overpowers the rest, luckily. ‘Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas’ played, a slower rendition, and a slow dance ensued. You watched couples split off, and when you looked at Steve, he was already looking at you, a question on his face and a hand outstretched.
You fell into step with him quickly. It wasn’t awkward for a second. One of your hands in his, the other on his shoulder, his on your waist. You swayed together, unknowingly moving closer until you were close enough to rest your head on his chest. And you did.
He rested his head atop of yours and hummed the song softly. You’ll dream about that dance, probably.
Now, you sit in the car with Steve, who’s become the driver. He drops his parents off at his house first, leaving the two of you alone for the drive to yours. He sneaks glances at you at stop signs and red lights, turning back to the road when he thinks he’s been caught.
His mind is full because he’s looking at you in a way he hasn’t before. He sees parts of you that he was blind to before. The shape of your lips, for example. The dip of your spine and the way it feels to hold you. It’s dizzying and warm, confusing and sparkling all at once.
Once he’s pulled up to your house, he offers to walk you to the door. Ever the gentleman. A romantic no matter how much he denies it, you think. He gets misty-eyed when you watch rom-coms, opens doors for you, has bought flowers for nearly all of his dates, as far as you know.
What must it be like to receive flowers from Steve Harrington?
He faces you on your front porch, hands in his pockets, “thank you again for doing this.”
“How many times do I have to tell you it’s okay. I’m happy to help you, Steve. You’re my best friend.” Who I love more than anyone.
“You’re mine, too, honey.”
It’s not the first time he’s called you that. Turns out, it was his default to use in your fake relationship. It is, however, the first time he’s said it when it’s just the two of you. It sounds sweet coming from his lips, sticky. Just like honey itself.
“What time should I be over for dinner tomorrow?” You ask. It’s the last hurdle of the fake dating.
“How ‘bout I come pick you up after I finish work?”
“Yeah, okay, that’d be great, thanks.”
You wrap your arms around yourself, the cold of December biting your skin.
“Here,” Steve notices, of course he does, and he reaches out with his hands, rubbing them up and down your arms to warm you.
“How’re your hands still warm?” You ask.
“I'm magic.”
You smile at that. He has no idea.
He reaches up with one hand to cup your cool cheek, and you nudge your face into his touch. For the warmth, you tell yourself. That’s it. His thumb runs over your skin, once, twice.
“Did I ever tell you that you have a pretty smile?” He says it so quietly you almost miss it. You don’t, though, and there’s a swarm of butterflies in your gut because of it.
“Shut up,” you try to mask your bashfulness.
Then, just like that, his face is close to yours. So close that it looks like he might kiss you. His eyes flick from your mouth up to yours, like he’s unsure of what’s happening while he’s doing it.
You can feel his breath tickling your lips, the ghost of his mouth on yours. Before that can happen, he’s swerving away quickly, planting a kiss on your cheek instead. The one he isn’t holding. His mouth lingers for a second.
“Goodnight,” he whispers against your skin.
“Night,” you say, dazed. And he’s walking away.
Steve’s not at all sure what’s come over him. He wanted to kiss you just then, to tangle his fingers in your hair and kiss you stupid. What the fuck was happening to him?
When you let your eyes flutter shut, your mouth parted slightly, like you’d let him kiss you, like you wanted it, too, he panicked. Couldn't do it.
No, he doesn’t know what just happened, why it did, or why he’s resisting the urge to go back and knock on your door and actually kiss you when you open it. What he does know is that his heart seems to be doing something funny when you’re around, and that your fake relationship has been better than any of his real ones.
He knows he needs to talk to Robin about this.
-
Steve had to work the next morning—Christmas Eve—which he was actually thankful for. Thankful to get away from his parents, though the comments about his job followed him out the door this morning. Especially thankful because he needs to talk to Robin and sort out the mess of his feelings that has occurred in the last twenty four hours.
He couldn’t stop thinking about how much he wanted to kiss you. About how his stomach was all twisty when you slow danced with him. There are so many moments playing over in his memory. Not just from yesterday, either.
He remembers the way his stomach would sink when you’d tell him about a date you had or how he’d often reach out a hand to tuck your hair behind your ear, or to wipe something away from the corner of your mouth.
So many things over your friendship that he never thought about are coming back to him and he’s realized he doesn’t act that way with any of his other friends. Only you.
He also realizes that he hasn’t really been pretending with you at all.
“I think I love her,” Steve blurts out while he and Robin are organizing returns, the store luckily empty.
Robin reaches into her pocket, barely fazed, and tosses a handful of confetti at Steve. Some pieces stick to his hair, some to his clothes, most of it at his feet.
“What the hell?” He shakes the flecks out of his hair, “we have to clean that now.”
“I’ve been carrying around confetti for like a year waiting for this to happen!”
“Wait, what?”
“Steve, you’ve been loving her for a long time, hate to break it to you.”
“And you didn’t tell me?” He’s no longer preoccupied with the confetti.
“I was letting you do it on your own time. You’re welcome.”
Steve had only just deduced that he’s in love with you and yet, when he thinks about you, he feels the same way he has for years. He finds it hard to believe that he’s been blind to it for that long, but he has been called an idiot enough in his lifetime for it to make sense.
Then, there’s the fact that you’re not done fake dating yet, that there’s still dinner today to get through and he doesn’t know if he’ll be able to keep himself together.
“What am I gonna do, Robin?”
“You’re gonna tell her how you feel and I will finally know peace.”
“What if she doesn’t feel the same? What if I freak her out?”
“Steve, she looks at you like sun shines from your pores,” she places a hand on his shoulder. “You’ll be fine.”
-
He picks you up after work as promised, his hands holding the wheel a little tighter, his greeting a little louder than normal. You figure he’s just nervous about dinner.
Nobody brings up the almost kiss, and you don’t plan to. Maybe you read things wrong. Maybe he was aiming for your cheek all along. Maybe he’s been thinking about it as much as you have.
It seems that your feelings for Steve are present now more than ever. Impossible to ignore. It might have something to do with the Christmas spirit floating around, the lightness of the holidays. It definitely has something to do with you being Steve’s fake girlfriend.
Because it turns out, he’s an excellent boyfriend, real or not.
He opens doors for you, even if he has to jog ahead of you to do it. He’s always got at least one hand on you, warm and sure. He looks at you with so much care, his brown eyes stuck on you.
It’s all adding up and you feel like your love for him is overflowing, pouring out of you before you can reel it in. You just hope he doesn’t notice that you’re not acting, that you never were.
Walking into Steve’s kitchen, you pause in the doorway, him behind you, “this smells great, Mrs. Harrington.”
Though Steve knows she probably bought most of the stuff and then put it in pots and pans to make it look like she cooked, he agrees, “so great, mom.”
She turns to look at you both from her spot by the stove, “thank you. Oh!” She cuts herself off with a gasp, her gaze drifting above your heads.
Oh no.
“Mistletoe,” she says, pointing.
“Look at that,” you laugh, short and awkward.
“Steve, sweetie, kiss your girlfriend for tradition's sake, won’t you.”
He kisses you on the cheek.
“A real one, son,” his father pipes up from his seat at the table.
Steve finds your gaze, his eyes wide and questioning. Are you okay with this? He’s asking without saying it. You nod, barely there, but you nod and he sees it.
He cups your cheek in his hand, flashes of last night on your porch come to you. He leans in slowly, like he’s waiting for you to stop him. Instead of doing that, you hold his wrist in your hand, squeeze it. Your silent communication.
In a blink, his lips are on yours. Pillowy and almost shy, but he’s kissing you and you feel like you’re floating, your feet off the ground and everything. He pulls away before you can even register the fact that it happened.
Your heartbeat is loud in your ears, your lips still burning with the memory of his.
Steve can't believe he hasn’t kissed you before. You’re soft and you fit together so well, like the final piece of a jigsaw puzzle clicking into place. He’s kicking himself for not doing it last night, when you were alone, when it was real. Next time he kisses you, he thinks, it will be real.
He clears his throat, tearing his eyes away from you, “so, let’s eat.”
Just like that, he’s moving to the table, pulling out a chair for you and kissing the top of your head once you’ve sat down. Already, the extra affection he’s been giving you has been dizzying. Now, it’s dialed way up.
He helps his mom serve the food before he sits down, though all he gets as a thank you is a pat on the cheek. Next to you, you can see Steve’s leg bouncing up and down. You reach out and place a hand above his knee, stilling him and drawing his gaze to yours.
You smile, and you hope it’s enough to say it’s okay, it’s all gonna be fine. He rests his hand on top of yours, fingers laced together.
“So, Steve, have you been looking for jobs?” His father speaks up. The never-ending topic.
“No, dad. I have a job,” Steve doesn’t look up from his plate, pushing mashed potatoes around with his fork.
“Well, a real job, I mean.”
At Steve’s silence, his mom adds, “we just think, especially now that you have a girlfriend to support, you should look for something… better.”
You look up when she says it, eyes wide and hand tensing on Steve’s leg. You don’t understand how they care so much about what he does and so little about how he feels. He likes his job, you know that, and he’s tried to tell them multiple times over the past couple of days.
And still.
It’s impossible for you to sit by and listen to them talk to him the way they do, like he isn’t good enough. Like the only defining thing is his job, which isn’t even a bad one. What defines him is who he is as a person and he’s the best one in your life.
“Why does it matter so much?” You ask.
His parents look at you, surprised to be questioned, it seems. Steve looks at you, too, with something more like astonishment, appreciation.
“I’m sorry,” you continue, “it’s just, you haven’t seen your son in how long? And all you guys keep bringing up is his job, which he’s told you he actually enjoys. Shouldn’t that be enough for you?”
Steve’s world is tinting pink, heart-shaped lenses over his eyes hearing you defend him. Nobody’s ever tried to go against his parents for him, and here you are. Fuck, he loves you.
They’re quiet, and you’re not finished. “Steve is the greatest person I’ve ever met, and that’s no thanks to you. I’ve known him for a long time and not once have I seen you guys around. How can you judge him so much when you don’t even take the time to know him anymore?”
The room is dead quiet. Nothing but the clinking of forks against plates for the rest of the meal. You feel lighter, after saying what you did. Though you’re also terrified that you’ve overstepped, that Steve will be upset with you for causing a scene.
As if sensing your worry, he holds your hand just a bit tighter.
It’s not until after dinner, hidden away in his room, that you talk about what happened. Not the kiss; your outburst.
He shuts his door and you’re already apologizing, “listen, Steve. I'm so sorry if I made things worse, but I couldn’t just let them shit on your job anymore. I couldn’t. You’re my best friend, you know that, and-”
His arms are around you in a blink.
“Thank you,” he breathes into your hair. “Nobody’s ever done anything like that for me. Thank you, honey.”
“Oh,” you blink away your surprise and wrap your arms around his shoulders. “Anytime.”
“You’re really special.”
Your smile spreads, spilling before you can do anything about it. You hide your face in his neck and stay that way until he lets go, a flush in his cheeks and stars in his eyes.
Steve wanted to tell you he loves you right then, but the words seem stuck in his throat. They won’t come up. He wants to be with you for real, and though it happened in a rush, it also didn’t. His brain just needed to catch up to his heart.
He doesn’t say it, but he will. As soon as he can.
“Wanna go watch a movie?” You ask.
“Yeah, okay.”
Movie night. You and him. That’s real.
-
Steve’s parents seem to have gone out somewhere, the car missing from the driveway. They haven’t left, though. You and Steve checked for the suitcases (they’re sitting, already packed, in their room).
Playing the movie, yet another Christmas pick that Steve couldn’t say no to, you share a blanket. There’s plenty of room on the couch, you’re the only people there, and yet, Steve still tosses an arm over your shoulders and pulls you to lean against his side.
Maybe he’s just doing it in case his parents come home while you’re downstairs. That’s gotta be it.
“Is it bad that I’m sort of relieved they aren’t here right now?” Steve says to you, quiet.
“Not at all. You deserve better than what they give you, Steve.”
“You think so?”
“Are you kidding? I know so.”
He lets his head lean atop of yours, and that’s that.
You want to bring up the kiss, but then again, why would you? It’s not real. It’s not real no matter how much you wish it was, no matter how much it feels that way. You knew going into this that you might end up kissing Steve, you just didn’t know it’d fuck you up so much.
Part of you hopes that mistletoe will appear above your heads yet again, just to be able to feel the way you did when he kissed you. Heart fluttering, stomach twisting, warm all over.
Though Steve’s head feels relaxed, resting on yours, it’s overflowing with thoughts. You, his parents, the way you defended him, how it felt to kiss you, how much he wants to do it again. You. The entire length of the movie, he’s trying to think of a way to tell you he loves you. The best he comes up with is to wing it.
When the screen fades, and the film ends, you remember the gift you’d left in Steve’s room, buried at the bottom of your overnight bag (you decided to sleep over, something you’ve done too many times to count, and head to your place in the morning with Steve). You sit up, only to face him.
“I have something for you. C’mon,” you tug on his hand, leading him all the way to his own bedroom.
“What?”
“Just,” you make him sit down on his bed when you’re in the room, digging through your bag and finding the present you’d wrapped last night. “Here.”
He takes it from your hand slowly, like it’s the most precious thing in the world. He doesn’t open it right away, staring at the red and green patterned wrapping paper and the gold stick-on bow sitting in the middle of it.
“Open it,” you urge, shuffling nervously on your feet.
He shoots you a shy smile before tearing at the paper, revealing a scrapbook of sorts. Flipping through the pages, he finds memories upon memories. Pictures of you and him, of him and Robin, all three of you. Some with the kids or with Eddie. Most of them he doesn’t even remember taking.
And it’s more than just pictures. There’s movie tickets and receipts from random fast food dinners, confetti from a surprise party for Dustin and a piece of a plate Steve broke once.
It’s the most thoughtful thing anyone’s ever given him. It reminds him that he does have a family, no blood relation needed.
“Honey,” he says it quietly, his eyes watering ever so slightly. “This is- I don’t even know what to say.”
“I know it’s not much, but I thought you’d like it.”
“No. I love it. It’s perfect, seriously,” he runs his finger over a picture of the two of you, your faces squished together and your smiles absolutely ridiculous. “Best gift ever.”
He means it.
“I had some help with the pictures. Everyone in that book loves you, Steve.”
Everyone in that book. That means you love him, too. He knows that you could mean it platonically, but something about the way you look at him when you say it makes him think that he has to tell you. He has to try.
He’s suddenly very glad he bought you a locket for Christmas, and that he left it unwrapped because of his lack of skills in that department.
“Close your eyes,” he says.
“Steve-”
“Please,” he trades spots with you, sitting you on the edge of his bed, “close your eyes for a minute, ‘kay?”
“Okay,” you shut them tight, placing a hand over them as well, “double closed.”
He rushes to grab the locket from the bottom of one of his drawers, then grabs the tiniest bit of paper and manages to write as small as he can on it, placing the message in the necklace and closing it with a small click.
Steve reaches for the hand that isn’t covering your eyes, opening it up and placing the delicate piece of jewelry in it. “Okay, open.”
You do, glancing down to what rests in your palm. It’s gorgeous, dainty, and the corners of your mouth lift at the sight of it.
“It’s beautiful, Steve. You didn’t have to.”
“It’s a locket,” he says. His head is bent, shy and visibly nervous. “Open it, too.”
Your heartbeat picks up, like you know, subconsciously, that something big is hiding inside despite the small size of the necklace itself. You wedge your fingernail into the gap, pushing the locket open. The note inside makes your stomach drop.
In his messy, rushed writing, the words ‘I love you.’
You look at him, mouth agape and hopes way up. “Steve?”
“I mean it.”
“How-”
“I mean I’m in love with you, and I think I have been for a really, really long time. I guess it took you being my fake girlfriend for me to realize it.”
“You’re not pranking me, are you?”
You’ve spent so long loving him, and convincing yourself that he could never love you the same, that it feels unreal. Hazy, like a dream.
He sits beside you, cupping your face in his hands softly to make you look at him, “I’m not pranking you. I love you.”
“Holy shit. I love you, too. For so long. I never thought I had a chance with you.”
“I think you’re the only person who’s had a real chance with me since I met you, honey.”
Right there, discarded wrapping paper on the floor, the glow of Christmas lights shining through the window, you doubt you’ll ever take that locket off once it’s on.
You can’t stop yourself from rushing forward and kissing him. A small press of your mouth against his at first, then, it’s more. It’s slow and every single thing you’ve ever wanted. His lips move with yours like they’re the only ones that know you.
This time, when you kiss, there’s no question. It’s real and it’s thawing every single worry you ever had about this. This is real, you get to think now.
Steve pulls away only when your breathing gets heavier, only when he absolutely has to. His thumb trails over your cheek, a lover’s touch. He takes the necklace from your hand, puts it on for you and kisses you again when he’s done.
“Do you think this was a Christmas miracle?” You say, teasing.
“I think this was just me being too stupid to notice how I feel about you. I know now, though.”
“Because you needed a fake girlfriend.”
“Because I needed a fake girlfriend,” he confirms. “But, I’d like a real one now.”
“I think I can manage that,” you nod, a lovesick smile on your face.
For once, Steve’s glad his parents came home. He never would have asked you to fake date him if they hadn’t, and he wouldn’t have realized his very real feelings for you, either. So, maybe it is a Christmas miracle, after all.
༄
hey you! if you enjoyed please consider leaving a reblog, it would mean a lot and helps a ton more than you’d think! help support creators like me <3
#steve harrington#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x you#steve harrington x y/n#steve harrington imagine#steve harrington imagines#steve harrington fluff#steve harrington one shot#steve harrington oneshot#steve harrington request#steve harrington requests#steve harrington story#steve harrington fic#steve harrington fanfic#steve stranger things#stranger things steve#stranger things#stranger things fanfic#stranger things fic#stranger things x reader
7K notes
·
View notes
Note
ok idk who this could be with, but fic idea: fake dating trope inspired by the song 'hate to be lame' by lizzy mcalpine and finneas... it has POTENTIAL.!!
Hate to be lame, but I might love you | Steve Harrington
BABE THIS CONCEPT IS SO </3 POTENTIAL INDEED!!! I'm gonna admit I went wayyy off track from the song and kind of just went feral with the concept of fake dating Steve.
"You're hands are sweaty."
"Yeah, well, so are yours."
"That's because my hand is covered in the sweat from your sweaty hand." your voice comes as a sharp whisper that only Steve can hear as you walk toward your friends not two days after your little agreement.
"Oh shut up."
"Why do we have to hold hands anyway?"
"Because that's what couples do, trust me I'm the expert." Steve nudges your side with his elbow, and you push back harder, making him flinch.
"Yeah, because you've had such successful past relationships." You're grumbling and acting more like a child as the regret sinks in. Why you'd agreed to this even to assist the romance between your two friends was beyond you. There were far easier ways to get the same result.
"That was a low blow." Steve sounds only slightly deflated but his energy returns as the rest of your friends begin to notice the intertwined fingers and the smiles you're sending them, that while fake, are convincing enough.
"Hey, this is new!" It's Dustin, always the first to voice an opinion, and he's eyeing the both of you as though he's Sherlock Holmes inspecting a fresh crime scene. "Is this a cute thing or a friend thing?" he's frowning, and you offer up an answer.
"Can't a friend thing be a cute thing also?"
"So it's a friend thing?" Dustin raises a brow and looks to Steve. For a second you swear they have some sort of silent and private conversation before Steve interjects with words that seem to startle the entire group surrounding you.
"No, it's not a friend thing." He moves his hand from yours, opting to drape his arm over your shoulder, making a show whilst you wipe your hand discreetly on your shorts.
"Surprise..??" the word comes strained from your lips and you are thankful for the fact that Steve is such a charmer. Whilst he's been more than a bad liar in the past he seems like a professional actor now, award-winning even as he sells your relationship to the group.
Your first kiss in his car one day after work, and first date at the small bakery down the street from your house. The way he'd been crushing on you since he saw you beat the hell out of some Demogorgons to defend the kids, and just how happy you were together. How he was so convincing you didn't know, but you almost found yourself believing him for parts of it, as if you didn't already know the truth. It was all fake, a ruse put together so that Steve could convince Robin and Nancy that he had in fact moved on. A perfectly crafted fake relationship so that Robin and Nancy could finally get together and feel guilt free.
"Well, I can't say I didn't see it coming." It's Dustin again, forever the speechmaker, and the smile on his lips is unbearably sweet. He's oblivious, it seems, and it occurs to you then that the little scheme you and Steve put together might have some negative impacts. Dustin cared about Steve in the way a little brother looks up to the older sibling, or perhaps the way a son looked up to a father, and maybe it wasn't so good for the boy to get attached to the idea of Steve finally finding some romantic peace. After all, it was nothing romantic of the sort, and whilst the game you had going wouldn't affect Dustin directly, it did seem that he was excited over the concept of you and Steve together.
Despite these thoughts, you find yourself moving an arm around Steve's waist, leaning into him as if it were real, because if you were doing this, you were sure as hell gonna do it right. Dustin smiles, somehow wider than before, before moving off to meet the other younger members of the group. Robin eyes the two of you from a distance, with something of a confused yet proud expression, and you hope that for whatever reason, she believes the show you're putting on.
When you feel Steve's breath against your ear, the shivers that run down your spine are barely controlled. "Good job." it's a whisper as he squeezes your shoulder, "I'm gonna go get us some drinks."
And with that, he walks away, leaving you to wonder how exactly this is going to work.
It goes well for the most part and soon you start to see changes in Robin and Nancy's behavior toward each other. They seem closer, more interested now that Robin's not afraid to make a move on the girl Steve had once been so hung up on.
But you can't deny that in private it has become somewhat awkward between you and Steve. Something changed over the past few weeks of pretending and you're not quite sure where it all went wrong, but the teasing relationship you'd once had was now evaporating before your eyes.
Steve currently had an arm over your shoulder as he sat beside you in the old bakery café where he had claimed you'd had your first kiss to the rest of the group. The old leather booth was supposedly filled with the fondest of memories for the both of you, though in truth you had never entered the place until today.
"You two really do make a hot couple." It's Robin leaning her elbows on the table from the booth across from you and Steve, Nancy at her side though they sit further apart.
"I second this," Nancy smiles, a wide and sweet expression that makes you really believe her. And suddenly you feel bad for lying to them both.
"Here," Before you can dwell on the feeling, Nancy's pulled out an old camera, one she was gifted by Jonathan back when they were something of a pair themselves. She still keeps it close, and she'd planned to use it for some journalism work later in the day, but it seems she's willing to waste some of the camera's potential now.
"Smile you two." She's peering into the camera, and instinctively you lean into Steve, smiling for the shot. But that doesn't seem to appease either Robin or the eldest Wheeler sibling, both of them scheming to create the best memories for you both.
"C'mon Steve," Robin instructs, "Give her a kiss for the camera." Steve does so hesitantly, pressing a short peck to your cheek and waiting for the camera to click, but nothing happens.
When he looks up he finds both Nancy and Robin chuckling before Nancy herself begins to speak. "Look, Steve, I know you're trying to be polite because, well, we used to be something—but I really don't mind if you two kiss. I'm happy for you both, and I assure you I've moved on." She spares a glance to Robin and it would have been sweet if you weren't panicking deep inside. You had yet to kiss Steve at all and the plan had been that you would never have to but now that your excuse seemed to be up in flames you weren't sure what to do, or say.
Steve didn't seem at all bothered, and maybe that should have concerned you more than it did, but honestly, you were grateful for the confidence he held when yours was nowhere to be found.
"Yeah, you're right. We didn't want to cause any drama with, you know," Steve gestures between himself and you, "Us."
"But that's the thing!" Nancy exclaims in a rather Robin-like fashion. (Perhaps the girl was rubbing off on her a little too much.) "I'm happy for you, and I really don't mind." She raises the camera again, a smile tugging at her lips as Robin shuffles a little closer to peak through the lens with her. "Do some cute couple shit for the camera. You may kiss your girlfriend." Robin says, and a nervous laugh escapes you as Steve locks his eyes with yours. it's a look that speaks,'You really wanna do this?' and 'We can back out now if you want.' all at once, but there's something else there that you can't quite decode.
You nod in response to his silent question, however, and it takes a moment before either of you can get up the guts to do anything at all. Steve leans in first, slow and steady, and you know he notices the breath that catches in your throat. His lips so close, his hair just barely brushing your forehead as he moves downward, his face inching ever closer to yours. But he stops, and it seems as if time itself does too, when Mike Wheeler bursts into the bakery, tall frame and skinny limps carrying him through the door and toward the booth at which the four of you sit.
"Nancy, god it took forever to find you! Mom's going crazy over dinner tonight and—" It all seems to fade off. Mike is still talking but you block him out, a ringing in your ears replacing his words as you wonder what could have happened had a few more seconds passed before the boys' arrival.
Either way, it would have meant nothing, because you don't like Steve like that, and you never will. Right?
Steve is sitting, brows furrowed beside you, staring at your figure as you watch Mike Wheeler ramble on about something Nancy needs to come home for. You don't seem to be listening and he doesn't blame you because honestly, he doesn't know if he is either, but he wonders what you are thinking about.
He's certainly thinking about things he shouldn't be.
But soon Nancy stands, and Robin follows suit and they say something that the both of you ignore. And they leave, as you wave them goodbye, and they say they'll be in touch. All of a sudden you're sat next to Steve, alone with a chocolate chip muffin between you.
"That was a close one don't you think?" It's you who says it and your voice startles Steve. You see him jump, and then adjust himself to sit like the cool high school heartthrob he had once been.
"Real close, sorry." the apology is genuine, and Steve pauses, looking around the bakery. "You wanna get out of here?"
You manage a nod, shuffling from the booth awkwardly. "Let's go."
"Did you want me to drop you home?" Steve's leaning on the side of his car as he watches you, waiting. He looks so different somehow, changed from the teenager you would sit next to in the chemistry lab. He hadn't spoken to you much at all back then, and you would do all the hard work for the passing grades, but now he seems....lost.
You suppose fighting interdimensional monsters can do that to a person. That kind of thing changes a perspective for sure, and the look in his eyes can be thrown down to such a concept.
"Sure," you go to say more, but decide against it as Steve moves around the car to open the passenger side door for you. The kind of thing you had yet to experience for a long time. When he gets behind the wheel he's focused, staring out the windshield.
"So, I'll drop you home." it's awkward, unsure and it's hard to find a response.
"Well, I don't know what else we're supposed to do."
Steve clears his throat, tongue darting out to wet his lips. "We could go to work—your work I mean, show off a little to the kid at the checkout. The one you have a crush on."
"He's literally the same age as us Steve. Stop calling him a kid." with your arms folded over your chest you watch Steve for a reaction, and he gives you one. His nose wrinkles up, turning to face you.
"He looks like a kid."
"He does not!" there's a laugh hidden behind your words, and Steve smiles, just a little. It's a nice thing to see.
"He has a babyface, he's got the smooth face of a baby."
"Like you're one to talk Harrington," you reach over, running a hand across his cheek. "You've got nothing on this face of yours."
Steve isn't nervous. He's not. The feeling of your skin on his, the warmth of your hand on his face has no effect on his heart rate. His heart beats this fast all the time. "I'll have you know that I've got a moustache coming in."
You pull back, buckling yourself into your seat. "That stubble on your upper lip doesn't count for shit Steve, don't give yourself a big head."
"Alright, well am I taking you home or what?" He wants to hide the grin on his lips, though he can't seem to put it away. It's stuck, the expression seemingly permanent. You're smiling too, and when you look over at him, his hands on the wheel and yours in your lap, it's all over.
"Let's go give babyface a run for his money."
-
It doesn't work out like it's supposed to, and as you walk into the store, out of uniform and entirely out of character, your confidence fades. "This was a bad idea." you mumble the words to Steve, who stands beside you, waiting to make a minor scene.
He looks down at you, peculiar frown pulling at his brows. "It's a great idea. Just making a little chaos, that's all." he doesn't sound like himself either, and in truth, his eyes are now scanning around the store, waiting for your target to show.
"Let's just go, Steve. It's dumb—this is dumb." before you can say anything more Steve's got his arm sliding softly around your waist, pulling you just that bit closer to his side. You don't flinch at the touch, the touch of a friend acting as though they're more. You should think more of it, feel more uncomfortable than you do, but you don't. You see your coworker approaching, apron over his regular uniform. You don't think you'd ever had a crush on him in the first place, despite what Steve had persisted, and even though the guy is cute, it doesn't seem to mean anything. Looking up at Steve is a struggle, and when you do you find his eyes still locked on the fated supermarket employee.
"Steve," muttering his name brings his eyes back to yours, and his gaze looks slightly different than it did before. "Let's get out of here."
"You sure?" the question hangs in the words, but something in him sounds relieved at the concept, as if all of a sudden this doesn't matter to him either. But he doesn't have a second to lead you away from the store before something else seems to enter the equation. Someone else.
"Hey, didn't expect to see you here." it's your coworker 'crush' standing before you with a strained grin. "It's your day off." He's says it in a way that suggests he's reminding you, in case you've forgotten. You don't miss the way his eyes flicker to Steve, and in particular, Steve's arm, still around your waist, his hand placed so convincingly as his fingers press affectionately into your side.
"Yeah, just came in to get some things." you smile back at the boy genuinely, as Steve buts into the conversation.
"Just some snacks...for date night." he's playing his part still, you realize, even if you weren't.
"Date night? You two are—I didn't see that coming." you think you must have imagined it, the deflated falter in your friends words. He didn't like you, he couldn't. He wouldn't. He was hardly a friend anyway, just the guy behind the checkout that you would wave and smile to during the work day. You couldn't possibly be hurting him with this, could you?
Steve squeezes you closer to his side, and it seems to be going a little too far. You're not sure if he does it just to get under the skin of the guy in front of you, or if he's trying to tell you something along the lines of "it's working."
You hope it's none of the above.
"Well, we should get going." diffusing the situation is all you can think to do, but now leaving isn't an option. If you don't exit the store with the so called 'snacks' you came in for, it might just mix things up further. You grab Steve by the hand, pulling him toward the candy aisle, sending your seemingly heartbroken coworker a sympathetic goodbye smile.
Once out of sight and snooping range, you give up the act. "Steve, this has to stop."
"What no, Nancy and Robin—they've just started connecting." Steve sounds disappointed, grasping for something to hold on to.
"There are other ways we can play matchmaker with them, but this...it's going too far. I can't do it." the way your eyes plead with Steve to end things, sends shivers across his spine. He feels the sting of your words as if it's all real, but of course it never was.
"So, we're breaking up?" he mumbles, trying not to let the words remind him of the familiar heartbreaks he's had before.
"Don't say it like that," there's a gentle laugh from your lips, soft, calmer than you were before. "That makes it sound like we were really a thing."
That cuts Steve deep. He can't help it, and his mind wanders to the feeling of your hand still holding his. He doesn't think you know that you're still doing it, so he squeezes your hand with his own, testing the waters. You let go.
You'd been Steve's fake girlfriend for over a month, and now suddenly, standing amongst bags of chocolate and sweets, you weren't anymore.
"So, just friends again?" You extend a hand as if to shake on the deal, and Steve accepts, though this time there is no affection in the way his hand holds yours.
"Friends." He confirms, and it really is over.
You don't let on to your friends directly that you'd split apart. Maybe due to the hopes that Robin and Nancy could make their own way a little faster whilst they were still under the impression of you and Steve in love. But you no longer hold hands in public, and you don't follow each other around like lost dogs.
It's weird, knowing that Steve isn't trailing behind you like he used to, and it's odd not having his car pull up in your driveway every day. You were so used to him surrounding you after the few months of being his partner in crime, that the distance from him has set up an ache in your heart.
Steve feels similarly, and the way the man goes about his days now are less interesting, and far less fun. Dustin caught on almost immediately, and despite the deal Steve made with you to never tell a soul in the group about your little agreement, he can't help but tell the young boy everything.
"So what you're saying is you never dated in the first place?" Dustin questions, Steve nodding.
"Yeah."
"But you think you might have fallen in love with her for real?"
Hearing Dustin say it out loud sends a pang of longing through Steve and he knows then that he most definitely has fallen head over heels for someone he was never supposed to love in the first place.
"Yeah. That sounds about right."
"Dude," Dustin has a grin on his lips and Steve can tell he's about to made fun of before it happens. "You are so lame. Honestly, can you just admit to yourself that you had a crush on her from the start? It was never fake to you, was it?" The kid is smart, and can see right through his older friend. He held no surprise when Steve told him the truth, because he found it quite obvious how Steve truly felt. It was why Steve's stories about how he fell in love with you felt so real to the group in the first place. Because they were the furthest thing from fake.
Steve doesn't respond, thinking it over. Dustin is right he realizes, and it's not surprising at all.
"You gotta tell her, man." Dustin speaks again, and Steve nods.
"Yeah. I know."
Two days later and Mike has invited everyone over, including the older kids, to spend the day together. It gives you Deja vu as you enter the house, having been to a similar hangout with Steve months before when you first introduced yourselves as a couple. Now you walk in alone, no sweaty hand to hold.
Steve's heart skips a beat when he sees you, and Dustin nudges him hard with his shoulder, as if Steve hasn't already been alerted of your presence. He thinks you look beautiful, but he always does. He realizes these things now. Now that he knows how he feels.
"Hey," Steve stands to greet you and you offer him a friendly smile back.
"Hey, Steve." It's still awkward between you, and has been ever since the fake breakup. Perhaps that's due to the fact you've both been avoiding each other like the plague since it happened.
"I need to talk to you about something later, is that okay?" He keeps his voice low, not wanting the others to hear about the private matters he wants to discuss. He can tell he's confusing you, but you agree thanks to his puppy dog eyes.
"Yeah, okay." Despite your agreeance, you plan to avoid Steve for the rest of the day, solely due to the fact you've begun to feel things that you shouldn't be. You were so used to being his friend, and seeing him as one, but now your thoughts have begun to linger on him more than they should, as do your eyes.
You can't help but admire the way he is with the kids, and the way his hands comb through his hair casually as if he doesn't know just how appealing it makes him. You focus a little too much on whether he's looking at you or not, and the sound of his laugh is too familiar now.
He was your friend, and whilst you'd promised he would stay that way, you weren't so sure you could keep it.
"Hey," Steve has caught you in the kitchen, going to get more soda for the party after a long day of avoidance. You'd hoped to spend a few minutes alone, and most of all, had hoped to keep evading him, but Steve had other plans.
You place the sodas on the counter, closing the fridge with caution. "It sure is hot today." You mumble in the hopes of keeping the conversation light. You know he's here to confront you about the distance you've been keeping from him. It can't be anything else.
"Yeah, it's summer." He feels bad about cornering you in the kitchen, but he knows this might be one of the only chances he has at asking you how you feel. Even with what Dustin had said, Steve doesn't know if he can bring himself to tell you what's been going on inside his head over the past couple of months, but he hopes you'll be willing to tell him what's been happening in yours.
"Are you okay?" even though you saw it coming, Steve's question still startles you.
You nod, though your voice involuntarily raises an octave. "Yeah, I'm fine. How are you?" You're not fine, and the lie is clear, but Steve is more than honest with you.
"I'm tired of us acting like we haven't fucked up our relationship." He leans against the counter in a kind of defeated gesture, weakening your resolve. "I don't want to keep fighting to be around you. I want you to feel comfortable around me again. Call me an idiot, a loser or something, like you used to."
"I can't." your whisper seems so loud in your own ears.
"I promise I'll call you pretentious and dramatic right back, just say it. Call me a name, make it how it used to be." there's a kind of desperation hidden within Steve's words, one you haven't heard before. One you doubt anyone has heard before. It stands in the silence, for your ears alone.
"You really want me to list all the shit I hate about you?" There's a shake to your voice, as if you're close to screaming or crying, but you're not sure which will come first.
"Well, I didn't say that—"
"I hate your stupid hair. Your teeth are too straight, and I don't like the way you talk to me, how your voice gets all soft and sweet. It's irritating when you smile because it makes me smile too, and you're laugh just—it just pisses me off." You stop for breath, sucking in the air as you focus on the boy in front of you. You've taken a few steps toward him with your words spoken, slow, and steady. "And I hate the fact you made me like you. I hate the way you're so unhateable to everyone around you, including me."
There's a small twitch of Steve's lips, and you can tell they want to pull upwards into the smile you just claimed to despise. He doesn't let them though, pushing himself back from the counter. "You wanna know what I hate about you?"
Your heart leaps into your throat but you don't show any sign of response, staring at him with as much blankness as you can muster.
"Absolutely everything, and nothing at all." He says it quietly. He doesn't need volume to get his point across. He's taken the steps needed to close the gap between you, and he's waiting for your approval. "In fact, I think I could love you, if you'll let me."
You let out a breath, somewhere between relief and excitement. "You're so lame, Harrington."
"You know you love it." he leans in closer, and you do the same, lips brushing against his.
"You know, I think I could love you too, if you'll let me of course." you allow yourself a grin at the sight of one on Steve's own lips, contagious as always.
"I think we could come to an arrangement." He's fucking with you, but you're too impatient to respond with anything but a kiss, gentle and sweet to his lips. You're not the first person to kiss Steve Harrington, but Steve thinks you might be the best.
"Come on, the others are waiting." You pick up the sodas left on the counter and push past Steve with the widest smile you've held in weeks, and Steve follows close behind.
GENERAL TAGLIST: @heliads @candywh0r3 @caplanreadss @hiya-itsamber @s00buwu
STRANGER THINGS TAGLIST: @buckys2thicc @browneyes528
#steve harrington#steve harrington imagines#steve harrington fanfiction#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington fanfic#steve harrington drabbles#steve harrington drabble#steve harrington x femreader#steve harrington x you#steve harrington fluff#steve harrington angst#steve harrington fic#steve harrington one shot#steve harrington oneshot#steve harrington x yn#steve harrington x y/n#steve harrington x reader insert#steve harrington imagine#steve harrington story#stranger things#stranger things fanfic#stranger things fic#stranger things imagine#stranger things x reader#stranger things fanfiction#stranger things x you#steve harrington stranger things#steve harrington series#steve harrington season 4#steve harrington headcannons
453 notes
·
View notes
Text
Split Seam
steve harrington x f!oc
part of the girl boy series
18+ allusions to smut, stuffy family dynamics, overall just a fun time tho
a/n | marriage done the standy way, this was fun to write :')
...........................................
It’s raining in Philadelphia and chocolate hearts are on sale at the CVS down the block from his apartment. Valentine’s cards too, pink and purple and red and everything must go. He buys a bottle of seltzer and a chocolate rose. When he gets to the station he unwraps the red tinfoil and takes a large bite out of the bloom. He’s starving, didn’t get lunch at the office today with the usual end of the week scramble of numbers and numbers and suits and numbers. But he’s only got an hour and change on the train. He can hold out, Hershey’s aside.
He’s done this train ride sixty-two times now. This is number sixty-three, but he’s not keeping track. All he knows is that it still feels like relief when he’s seated and the train starts moving. It’s always felt like a relief to be moving in the same direction as her again.
They’ve gotten this right, he thinks. As right as they possibly could, at least. The first year of what Andy called moderate-to-long distance was hard. Awkward phone calls with long swaths of silence, calls that were missed altogether, crossed wires, cataclysmic blowouts that were and weren’t about the things they argued about. But they’ve made it this far, nearly two years of this perpetual back and forth ache that’s only soothed with train rides, with closing that gap.
There’s been three apartments in New York, and he’s pretty sure he likes this last one that she’s in the best. Greenwich Village, old brick and pock-marked sidewalks and tall windows that wash warm over lightwood floors, and he likes being the one making this trip because he likes getting to see her in a space that feels like her. And he likes this too, the same as the first sixty-two trips, she’s waiting for him at the station, that brief moment, miracle, within which he sees her but she doesn’t see him. Checking her watch and running a hand back through her hair, in her brown leather coat, sharp and smooth and too cool for a banker from Philly, but she’s here for him, smiling big, smiling everything when her eyes finally catch his.
This always the same too, a soft, sweet rejoining, her hand curling at the nape of his neck, other arm slung over his shoulder and here, here, she presses her lips to his cheek, her nose sliding in line with his and hi, baby, another kiss, quick, and he’s home.
“They have you staying late again, don’t they? Or did you get all dressed up just to see me?” Little tug to his tie as they thread through throngs of people, out into the cool damp night in as close of a tangle they can be without getting heckled for it on the street.
“Catch-up from the holidays, or at least that’s what everyone keeps saying.”
“Right, right, crunching numbers and murdering secretaries American Psycho-style?”
“You think you’re so funny, don’t you?” Little squeeze to her hip, little mean as they continue their walk back to her place. Her grin gets lit up by the neon creeping into the oncoming night.
“Kidding, your colleagues however, well, yeah.” Well, yeah, Andy had come into town right before Christmas to go to his company holiday party with him, and had gotten into not one, not two, but three verbal altercations with his co-workers about the invisible labor of women, as well as the recession. Not that he would admit it, but he had been impressed, and maybe a little flustered, watching her hold her own amongst the suits. They had left early on account of said flustering, as well as the little snap he had given to one of the suits who told him something about needing a muzzle for that one. The partition in the company-ordered limo was raised when they got back into it, the green velvet of her dress hiked up and up and up exposing sheer black nylon and skin, and they both had forgotten all about the suits and the snap by the time they got back to his apartment. He still gets a little hazy, sweet gauze in his mind when he thinks about it.
“How are the feminists this week?”
“Oh you know, angry, hairy, generally awesome and oppressed. I turned in my third draft on Wednesday.”
“That’s amazing, honey. It must feel good to be almost finished.”
“It feels good to finally get my advisor off my ass. Bigger and better things, et cetera, et cetera.” He knows not to ask after bigger and better, having made the mistake once of asking if she had heard back from any of the PhD programs yet. She had smiled a watery thing, and promptly dissolved into a pool of sound and tears, too much, don’t ask. She’ll tell him when the news comes in, he knows, though there still remains a selfish slice of him that hopes and hopes and hopes UPenn comes back with a yes, and she answers with a yes too. But for now this is enough, here, and stopping her on the stairs up to her apartment to press a curved kiss to her mouth, so proud of you, honey. She beams, scoffs, thank you, and it drips with sheepish sweetness, her eyes rolling up to hide the truth of it, but he still catches it, lets her believe he doesn’t when she tugs him into her apartment.
It’s true what they say about absence and fondness, at least in the case of Sylvia, who lately has been greeting him with a desperate peel of cries, twining around his legs with such a fervor that he has to try hard not to trip over her. No petting though, she still likes to scratch if it isn’t on her terms.
“Nice flowers.”
“Thank you, someone sent them on Valentine's day.” A veritable flame of roses sits preening in a vase on her kitchen counter. He had asked for the biggest, the best, no expenses spared because he’s making money now, real money, and any gifts for her have to be a sneak attack because of it.
“Oh yeah?”
“Mmhmm, you better watch out because it looks like you have some competition from another suitor.” She lays the accent on thick, her family’s accent, soo-tah, throws in a waggle of her fingers, ring glinting for good measure. The ring, and the whole ordeal of it. There had been no family heirlooms left to ask Frank and Kitty Broder permission for, just a nervous conversation the day after Thanksgiving, the one before last, sweating hard beneath his collar and hands shaking. Because while Andy is anything but traditional, Steve picked up pretty fast that this was not quite the case with her parents. A fiance of the second oldest had clued him in on as much the first time Steve was brought home to meet the family, summer break and a big reunion, plenty of hands to shake and names to forget. And the second oldest’s fiance had sidled up next to Steve with a sloshing glass of prosecco and the grin of someone who had figured this whole production out. Somewhere between the mafia and the Vatican, you do the math, man.
Frank was unmoved, tolerant of the idea at best, considering him over the dark rims of his Buddy Holly-esque glasses, a stylish man, tall and thin man with a slick of gray hair and a thick gold ring that could blind you if it flashed the wrong way. He only had one question for Steve which, mercifully, he could answer correctly. Yes, he told Frank, raised Roman Catholic, though he left the non-practicing part out. Meanwhile, Kitty was already designing the invitations in her mind.
And that wasn’t even the hard part. Because yes, hasty by some judgements (Eddie’s), and unlikely by other judgements, given Andy’s views (Robin). But he knew, he knew, spent a few months looking for a ring in the evenings when he’d get off work. When he did find one, he didn’t even wait a week, letting the black velvet box burn a hole in his pocket on the train ride to New York that very same weekend. And the proposal itself was simple, no fuss or fanfare, if not a little nerve-wracking. He spoke honestly, plainly. He spoke love. And he’s never known relief like he did when she smiled and told him there’s no one else I’d ever say yes to, baby. So maybe it’s hasty, and maybe it’s all skewed a little unorthodox. But it’s theirs.
“They better act fast then, got that appointment tomorrow and all.”
“Did you bring all your documents?”
“Driver’s license, social security number. We’re set, honey.”’
“I’m still not changing my last name.”
“No, I know, I don’t care about that.”
“My mother is pissed about it, apparently so is yours.”
“I think when all this is said and done, those two are gonna leave their husbands and move in with each other.”
“God, that’d be good for them, or maybe terrible.”
“Little of both, probably.” One of the stranger outcomes of this whole wedding thing, the alliance that’s formed between Diane and Kitty. Though maybe not that strange, he thinks, certainly plenty of common in between them. At the very least, this wedding wouldn’t be happening next month without the pair of them leading the absolute battle charge of planning they’ve accomplished. Kitty’s words, knowing my Miranda, she’d be happy with a shotgun wedding in Reno, and Andy hadn’t disagreed, happy to leave all the cake and the flowers and the tulle up to their mothers. Steve was more than happy to stay out of the fray too.
“You didn’t eat lunch, did you?”
“How can you tell?”
“Steve, you never eat lunch. I ordered Thai before I left to get you,Tom Kha Gai and egg rolls, the usual. It should be here soon.”
And the rest of the evening is very boring, very mundane, a third-floor window lit up warm, and framed inside of it, them on the couch with a smattering of takeout boxes. His tie undone and hanging loose around his neck, top three buttons of his shirt popped as well. Warmth and salt and sour sating him, he goes slack when she tries to teach him how to properly hold his chopsticks, moreso enjoying the feeling of her hands fidgeting with his fingers, her careful concentration. He goes right back to using a fork when she’s finished, grinning at the roll of her eyes. And afterwards, stomachs full and eyes heavy, worn weary from their respectively long weeks, they get into the shower, all kind touch, simple pleasure, her fingers kneading back along his scalp and his hands soaped and slipping over her skin, working into the spots that he knows ache, satisfaction in her sighs.
Soon, he thinks, hopes, this won’t be a thing they have to ration, all this touch, all this sense, all this closeness. This will simply become the thing they do every night, getting into bed together and talking about things that don’t really matter while their bodies relearn one another. He wants these things in a near dizzying way, big, bold, brazen want that simmers and sighs in her presence, tired kisses, and it’s enough, her hand in his hair, and it’s enough.
He wakes up the next morning bleary-eyed with want, eager for this early morning appointment at the county clerk’s office, because this is another step, big step, making it even more real step. They both seem to feel it, quiet over the rims of their coffee mugs, smiling, and what? What? What’re you smiling about? It’s a big day, isn’t it? Yeah, nervous? No, you? Not at all, no. And he means that when he says it. There are few things in his life that he has been so certain about.
And yes, maybe they had a romantic idea of how this would go, but it really is just paperwork in a dimly lit cubicle, and signatures here and here and yes, wedding will take place within sixty days. Steve tries to make a joke about cousins, and is only met with a blank look from the clerk, and a swift side-eye from Andy.
But when the paperwork is signed and there’s a manilla envelope with their wedding license in his hand, there is a lightness, a lift, a giddy kick, like kids getting away with something when they leave the office. Tucked in close to each other, a little oblivious, and maybe a little obnoxious, and a man walking the other way lets them know as much, bumping right into Steve’s shoulder and watch it! And without missing a beat, Andy’s head whipping around and hey, fuck you, we just got married! Which, well, technically not, but it still makes them both laugh a breathless thing, wild, wind-bitten smiles. And they’re still running on all that flare and fluster when they get back to her apartment, open-mouthed kisses and greedy hands and she has to hold him back by the lapel of his coat to grin an awful thing and you wanna see the dress?
“You have it?”
“Yeah.”
“Like, here, right now?”
“Yes, Steve, it’s been fitted and everything. Locked and loaded and ready to blast me off into marital bliss with you, et cetera, et cetera. Now, do you, or don’t you, want to be the first, the very first, to see it on me in all its matrimonious glory?”
“Isn’t that bad luck?”
“Baby, please.” She groans, pressing her forehead against his, and really, he’s just giving her a hard time, because he knows what this means to her, beneath all the snark. The first to see it before anyone else, before the rehearsal, and the aisle, and all the family that neither of them really care to have present. A moment for them, just for them, and no one else.
“You really want me to see?”
“Mmhmm.” Quiet, crackling murmurs, whispered between smiles.
“Yeah?”
“Yes.”
“Okay.”
“Okay?”
“I’d like to see.”
“Go sit on the couch, I’ll be right back.” And so he does, a little shake in his hands, a little burst and batter of his heart against his ribs. Nervous now, and he’s not sure why, the ticking of the clock pulling taut and loose all over like melted taffy. And then, and then, the padding of bare feet, and the hard rush of blood in his ears, and the sweet exhale when he does finally see her.
“Honey.” Bordering on pained, the word is said with a sigh, and he’s not going to, no, no, just a little flush of heat behind his eyes and in his throat and Andy’s baby, don’t cry makes him sniff hard and swallow, his hand settling on her hip when she steps closer between his legs. Smooth white silk and simple, and her hair is still gathered in the clip she tucked it up into this morning and she’s still wearing a smear of Vaseline on her lips and she’s the best thing he’s ever seen, he thinks. Tells her as much and she smiles big, chin tucked down and her thumb stroking along the column of his neck where her hand is loosely curled.
“Well, thoughts?”
“Wow, just wow, yeah, no other thoughts.” He knows she’s going to start wilting under any more compliments, never one for them, a warbly Steve that makes him smile, squeezing at her hip, coaxing her to c’mere, c’mere, even as she resists his pull.
“If you fuck up this dress we’re gonna have a problem.”
“Not gonna fuck it up, just come a little closer. I wanna, uh, look at the stitching.”
“You’re so full of shit.” Even as she says it, her smile is starting to slip and spread, another shuffled step closer as his hands splay across her low back, and lower, and lower, and a squeeze that’s just a little mean, making her laugh while he starts to hike all that silk up and up into his hands.
A few weeks later, when he’s met with the sight of her in that dress in a very, very different context, all he can think about is that afternoon. No one will ever know that he got to see her first in that dress, before anyone else. Nor will they know that they spent the rest of that afternoon splayed on her living room floor with the fabric of her dress bunched up around her hips and his hands curled into the plush of her thighs and his mouth, open and taking, watching the dip and fold of fine fabric, the arch of her back, pleasure for pleasure’s sake. No one will know that in the after, his hips stilled and flush against hers, both of them panting and preening into each other’s kisses, they found the smallest tear at her hip, and that she couldn’t be mad about it, not even a little, when he sunk back down between her legs and laid his apology at the open hinge of her hips.
He’ll find that tear again, when the vows are said, and the family and friends are clapping, and they’re walking down the aisle together, his hand on her hip. He’ll find the tear then, the perfect secret shared between them in a quick glancing smile.
#steve harrington#steve harrington fanfic#steve harrington fluff#steve harrington smut#steve harrington au#steve harrington imagine#steve harrington stranger things#steve harrington series#steve harrington story#girl boy
37 notes
·
View notes
Text
I’m here – s.h
pairing: steve harrington x f!reader
summary: when you have an accident, steve comes to the rescue, bathing you in comfort and soothing your worries without a second thought. in other words good old hurt/comfort goodness.
warnings: mention of injury though nothing is descriptive. maybe the cheesy title needed a warning too.
an: im on my knees begging that this shows up in the tags, i’ve tried everything. Anyways, im back after my writers blog to deliver softness and cute fics again. Enjoy! and let me know if you like this, reblogs are always helpful🥺
Masterlist
✫✶✫✶✫✶✫✶✫✶✫✶
Sock-clad feet glide on the hardwood floor of the hallway as the Saturday sunlight streams through the windows. You turn up the volume of your radio, dancing and bobbing your head to your Duran Duran cassette. It is a universal truth that listening to music while you do chores will not only make you productive, but it will make the tasks more bearable. So Girls on Film floods the first floor of the house as you take the newly dry clothes to the kitchen to fold later. You sing along to the lyrics while you do the dishes and proceed to make something to eat. There are fresh groceries in the fridge, which you got yesterday, and you take out everything you need to make a club sandwich.
You’re so distracted while preparing and eating your food, that you don’t realize time has escaped you suddenly. The clock says its 1:15pm, and you promised Max you’d go skateboarding with her that afternoon –she’s supposed to be here in 30 minutes and you’re still not ready. “Shit.” You say, chewing the rest of your sandwich as fast as you can.
You rush through everything after that: shoving things back in the fridge, leaving your dish to wash later, and running upstairs with armfuls of unfolded clothes to throw on your parents’ bed to be folded later. They’re away for the next five days, so they won’t mind –if you remember to fold them before they get back. You spot your favorite tank top, a lovely deep green one, in the middle of the pile and grab it before you go to your bedroom. Some light washed jeans, the tank top, new socks, and converse and you’re ready to go.
A second later, the doorbell rings, announcing Max’s arrival. “Coming!” You yell over the music, which you then turn off.
Max stands on your porch, her skateboard under her arm. She has her hair braided into two pigtails and her freckles are standing out more than ever with the fierce sunlight outside. “Hey.” She says, “Ready to go?”
“Yeah, I just need my skateboard.” You tell her, then go back inside to search the living room’s closet for it. “Aha! Now I’m ready.”
Locking the front door behind you, the two of you skate down the road to the old Hawkins skate park. It is near your house –roughly five blocks– and because Max says the new one is always crowded, the two of you have made it a habit to use the old one instead. It’s not old perse, it just not as fancy as the new one.
“I learned this new trick I have to show you.” Max says proudly, a grin lighting up her features.
“A new trick? Where?” You ask her, pushing at the ground with your foot to gain more speed.
“I saw some boys do it the other day, and I think I got it down now.” She explains, glancing at you for a second before chuckling. “I think I can do it even better than them.”
“Oh, I bet.” You smile, “I need to learn it then, so we can outskate them.”
Sure enough Max starts to teach you the new trick immediately after you reach the skate park. She mentions it might be called a heelflip but she’s unsure, the boys she copied from were far enough that she couldn’t catch everything they said.
“Basically,” Max says. “You jump and use your right foot to flip the board, and land on it once it turns back around.”
The redhead demonstrates, failing at the first try but getting it right by the second. You watch her do the trick five more times, trying to memorize the way she moves her feet before and after she jumps. Once you’re sure you understand what you have to do, you begin to practice, which leads you to one, two, three, and several other failed attempts.
With your frustration beginning to increase, you huff and nod to yourself in determination. “This time for sure.” You tell no one in particular.
You push the ground with your foot and skate a few feet before you try to flip the board again, only to make a terrible mistake immediately after. Just as you think you managed to successfully flip and land on your skateboard, your left foot lands too close to the rear-edge of the board and you fall backwards. The weight of your body falls on your left arm, and thankfully not your head, but an intense pain overwhelms you for a second, making your ears ring. The ache doesn’t pass and instead stays in your arm, and you lie on the ground, your left side touching the hot cement. You try to move it, so you can sit up, but you find that you can’t; it only makes more pain shoot up from your arm to the rest of your body.
“Fuck!” You curse out from gritted teeth, your face contorted in pain as you roll to your back and sit up. You clutch your left arm close to your body as best as you can without injuring it more. “Fuck, shit, ouch, dammit.”
Max rushes to your side in a second, kneeling in front of you to see what happened. “What happened?” Her blue eyes are wide with worry as she sees you hold your arm and squeeze your eyes shut. “Your arm?”
“I think I broke it, Max. I can’t move it.” You say, taking deep breaths and looking into her eyes. The distress in her own is obvious, so you swallow back the pain and say in a calm voice. “We have to go back home.”
Max nods but still glances worriedly at your arm, “We need to get you to the hospital.”
You whimper in pain and nod even though the very thought of going to the hospital makes you nauseous. You hate hospitals, you’re terrified of doctors and any sort of procedure. “I know. Just help me stand up, we need to call Steve.”
The redhead holds the back of your right elbow gently and wraps her arm around your waist to hoist you up. You exhale shakily as another shock of pain shoots up your arm while Max grabs both of your skateboards –she holds one under each arm and walks next to you. The walk to the house is silent, with you focusing on everything else around you besides the pain, and Max burning a hole in your skin as she looks at you.
“I’m so sorry, this is my fault.” She says.
“Max, it’s not your fault. No one could have known that I would fall, I didn’t think I’d fall.” You shake your head instantly, then look at her worried face. “Please, don’t beat yourself up about this.”
She nods silently, worrying at her bottom lip nervously. “We’re almost back.”
You look up ahead and notice she’s right. Your house can be seen in the distance, and it makes relief wash over your features. Shade, water, and a phone to call your boyfriend. They’re all so close but the last feet to reach the house feel like insurmountable task. It’s like each step breaks your arm again and again; by the time you give Max your keys and step through the front door, your forehead is covered in sweat and tears threaten to spill from your eyes.
“Call Steve, I’ll get you some water.” Max tells you, leaving the skateboards out of the way and disappearing into the kitchen.
You walk to the yellow phone that’s propped in the hallway’s wall –an inconvenience every day but you can’t bring yourself to complain now– and dial the number you memorized two years ago, picking up the headset with your right hand. Your body aches, and you feel exhaustion creep up on you as the phone rings.
Steve picks up the phone on the third ring, his voice a soothing sound to your ears. “Hello?”
“Hey Stevie.” You say into the headset; your face is a grimace, but your voice is light as air. “How are you, baby?”
“Missing you,” Steve grumbles on the other line. “And jealous that Mayfield has a whole day with you. Wait, aren’t you supposed to be skating?”
“Yeah….” You chuckle but the movement makes you flinch and whimper. “About that.”
Max, who returned with the glass of water, sighs exasperated. She fights you momentarily for the headset, with an unfair advantage of not being in pain, and uses it to deliver the news to Steve. “Yeah, she broke her arm.”
You imagine Steve is asking What?! In a tone of disbelief and worry.
“Y/N broke her arm, we’re at her house and need to get to the hospital.” She says, raising her eyebrows and shaking her head at you when you frown at her bluntness. It seems like the initial shock from your injury has worn off, and now she has a resolute look in her face. “You have to come pick us up.”
“Tell him not to speed. If he does, I’m walking to the hospital. We don’t need another accident.” You tell her even as another wave of pain washes over you. You didn’t want to get Steve so worried he’ll go over the speeding limit, but with the way Max dumped the news on him… he’s more than likely to.
You hear Max tell him this and nod her head and whatever Steve says on the other line before she passes the headset back to you. “He’s coming.” She tells you as you press the headset into your ear.
“Baby.” Steve says, so softly and comforting to your ears that you fight back tears. Your eyes squeeze shut to keep from crying; the next breath you take is shaky.
“I need you.” You mumble, taking another deep breath to keep your voice steady. “Drive safely.”
“I’ll be there in 10. Hang on, okay?” You can hear Steve’s keys jingle on the other end of the line, and you nod. You know he can’t see you but who cares.
“Okay.”
You hang up a second later and accept the glass of water Max hands you. “Thank you.” You tell her, leaning your head against the wall.
Max nods as her eyes scan your face and her eyebrows meet in the middle. “You’ll be okay soon, let’s go wait on the porch.”
✫✶✫✶✫✶✫✶✫✶✫✶
Steve gets there in 8 minutes, leaves the car on, and rushes to the front door where you and Max wait already. He frowns when he sees you clutch your arm and notices that it’s beginning to bruise. Steve wipes the light sheen of sweat that covers your forehead once he’s in front of you and cradles your cheeks softly in his hands. “Hey, babygirl.”
You exhale shakily when he presses his forehead against yours. His presence is a comfort, his words even more so. “Let’s get you fixed up, okay? You’ll be better in no time.”
“Stevie, I’m scared. I hate hospitals.” You confess to him in a whisper as a rogue tear escapes you. Though you don’t know if it’s from pain, fear, or relief of seeing him. “I don’t want to go.”
“You’re in pain, you have to go. I know it scares you but you got us, okay?.” Steve motions over his shoulder to his car. “Let’s get in the car, beautiful.”
He places a soft kiss to your temple when you nod, before leading you towards his car –left hand on the low of your back. Max opens the door for you, and you slide in while Steve shuts the door close and runs over the drivers’ side. You press the side of your head to the window, the cold glass soothing as you close your eyes.
“Pass me the Flock of Seagulls cassette; they’re all in the pocket in front of you.” Steve asks Max as he pulls away from the driveway. “The colourful one.”
“Yeah, I know which one.” Max says, you can hear the eyeroll in her tone –it makes you smile briefly.
Steve fiddles with the cassette before inserting it into the car’s player. A few seconds later, the first chords of I Ran begin to play, filling the car with music. “There you go, baby.” Steve says, putting his right hand on your thigh and rubbing your skin softly with his thumb. “You love their songs.”
You move to look at him— he’s got that worried pinch between his brows despite the smile he’s giving you. The sun makes his hair turn a honey colour, and his white t-shirt turns a shade of yellow as sunlight reflects off the dashboard and onto him. You’re in so much pain you can’t even appreciate how well this outfit look on him. He’s so handsome, he’s also trying very hard to keep it together for you, and you love him so much.
“I do.” You mumble, smiling softly at him. “Thank you, Stevie.”
Minutes later you’re being led to the emergency room by Steve and Max, where nurses take over despite their protests. You can’t help but feel anxious, and in more pain, as you’re pulled away from them. Your heartbeat picks up every time the nurse touches you, and your eyes tear up when she checks your arm –her touch is careful but your arm hurts so much that it feels like she’s pressing hard on your skin. She takes your vital signs and tells you to sit down in a bed until the doctor arrives.
You nod and try to swallow but your throat keeps tightening. “Can my boyfriend come keep me company, please?” Your voice sounds breathless as you speak. “I’m feeling very anxious and he’s the one who always knows what to do.”
Maybe it’s the tone in which you speak, or your anxiousness written too plainly on your face, but the nurse nods silently and leaves. You hear hurried footsteps immediately after. Steve’s hair is a mess as he steps through the door, and you’re so glad to see him you slouch where you sit. Though the movement makes you knock your elbow with your thigh, and you wince in pain.
“Careful, baby.” Steve tells you quietly, approaching you and holding your free hand. “I’m here, the nurse said you asked for me.”
“Stevie,” You shake your head. “I got anxious and lonely. I–I needed you.”
“And I’m here.” Steve reassures you, leaning his forehead against yours. “I’m staying right here, okay?”
“Thank you.” You nod weakly, looking into the lovely brown color of his eyes as he kisses your knuckles repeatedly. “The nurse said a doctor is coming soon.”
As if summoned by your words, the doctor arrives and crosses the threshold of the room to stand by your bed. He’s a short man with black rimmed glasses, greying buzz-cut hair, and deep frown lines on his forehead. The tag on his white coat says doctor Dennison, and he introduces himself by the same name a second later.
“I’ve just talked to the nurse. From what she tells me, we need to take an x-ray of your arm.” He says, talking your injured arm gently in his hands and examining it by touch. “You can’t move it?”
“No, it hurts too much if I try.” You say as you wince when he touches the muscle below your elbow. Your fingers squeeze Steve’s hand tightly; you worry whether you’re hurting him.
“Looks like the fracture is here.” He says, touching the place with two careful fingers. “The x-ray will tell us if we’ll need to operate or not.”
You squeeze Steve’s hand in fear this time, and he squeezes right back in reassurance. “Surgery?” Steve asks the doctor, frowning down at your arm. He knows your fear of doctors and knows needing surgery would send you into a nervous frenzy.
“It looks like only one of the forearm bones is broken but I need to see just how much. If the fracture is at two places, we need to stabilize them with surgery, so they heal correctly.” The doctor tells you and Steve. “The good thing is, your arm hasn’t swelled much, so if you don’t need surgery, we can put your arm in a cast today.”
You nod your head, though you feel numb and more anxious than ever; surgery had never crossed your mind. Why did you have to break your arm.
“I’ll have the nurse prep the x-ray room.” The doctor says before he leaves.
“Thank you, doctor.” Steve tells him, then turns back to you. “I’m sure you won’t need surgery baby.”
“What if I do, Stevie.” You whisper, feeling fear try to take you into its clutches. “I’ve never had surgery before… it scares me.”
Steve lets go of your hand for a moment to slide a chair over to your bed, where he sits and offers his hand again. “If you do, you’ll be more than okay, babygirl.”
“How can you be sure?” You ask him as you look into his eyes though tears are threatening to fall down your cheeks and it makes him look blurry.
Your boyfriend kisses you hand again, his lips soft on your skin as he pecks it repeatedly. “Because you’re strong, Y/N. I know this is scary, but I also know you’ve been very brave despite of your fear before.”
Your eyes squeeze shut at his words, and you nod trying to summon that bravery he claims you have. You both survived the upside down, surely that’s scarier than this. “I’ll be okay.” You say more to yourself than to Steve.
“You will.” He reaches up and wipes your tears away with a reassuring smile. “I’ll be right here, and I won’t let anything happen to you, okay?”
You nod again and just then the nurse is back to take you to the x-ray room so you can find out how serious your injury is.
“Go tell Max I’m okay.” You tell Steve before you leave the room. “I’m sure she’s worried.”
Steve nods, and the soft look in his eyes reassures your frantic heart that things will be okay.
✫✶✫✶✫✶✫✶✫✶✫✶
It turns out, that your injury won’t require surgery, like Steve had reassured you.
There’s a nurse putting pain medication into an IV that’s attached to your right arm, while Doctor Dennison looks over your x-ray.
“You’ve got one clean fracture right here.” The doctor points at the broken bone below your elbow. “So once the medication kicks in, I’m going to set it and we’ll place a cast on your arm.”
You nod in understanding and look away from the x-ray, looking at the fracture makes a shiver go down your spine. “Will I get to go home today?” You ask.
The doctor smiles, “Of course. Once you get the cast, we’ll immobilize your arm with a sling and you’re ready to go.”
“Thank God.” Steve says, rubbing his face with his hands –the first time since you talked to him earlier that he’s shown worry. All the tension in his body leaves him at once when he smiles at you. “Told you.”
Now in less pain than before, and calmer, you smile back at him. He’s reassured you all afternoon, it’s your turn. “I know.”
Though the process is painless and simple, you cling to Steve’s hand when the doctor makes sure your bone is in the right place and proceeds to put the cast on your arm. It goes from your wrist to just above your elbow, immobilizing your left for the next 8 weeks. You smile down at it once you’re given the all-clear by the nurse, knowing the kids, Robin, and Eddie will doodle all over it once they find out what happened. Then, there’s paperwork to sign and pain medication to get for the next five days as prescribed by the doctor –which Steve insists on getting (and you insist on paying back, to no avail). But soon enough you’re reuniting with Max in the waiting room, Steve’s left hand on the small of your back and his right holding a white plastic bag.
“All done.” You tell Max with a reassuring smile. “Sorry for making you wait so long.”
The redhead glances out the automatic doors to see the sky turn orange as the sun begins to set, –it was high in the sky when you first arrived. “I didn’t notice.” She shakes her head. “Are you feeling better now?”
You nod your head. “I’m just tired.”
“Come on let’s get you home then.” Steve mutters against your temple before placing a kiss there.
“Can I drive?” Max asks Steve, sounding hopeful.
“Absolutely not.” Steve tells her and you smile.
Their bickering and the rest of the Flock of Seagulls cassette fill the car on the drive away from the hospital. The air feels calmer with everyone less anxious than before, and you’re in between falling asleep and looking at the pretty pink sky out of the window. Steve drops Max off at her place, and she promises to visit you tomorrow morning, to which you nod with a smile and tell her you’ll be waiting. A short ride later, you’re back at your house, with Steve opening the door for you and leading you inside.
“Finally.” You sigh, moving so you’re standing in front of Steve and can lean your forehead against his shoulder. “I hate hospitals.”
“I know.” Steve whispers, his arms going around your waist carefully.
“Stevie…”
“Yeah, baby?” He takes one step back to look at you, dipping his chin to his chest to meet your eyes.
“Don’t go.” You whisper, eyes glancing at your feet then back to his face. “I don’t want you to go.”
Your heartbeat is drumming loudly in your ears as your right hand holds Steve’s forearm. You have five more days alone in your house, now with a broken arm, and though your parents have left in other occasions, it feels different this time. It makes you anxious at the thought of being alone, after a day at the hospital you feel on edge.
“I wasn’t planning on going anywhere.” Steve smiles, bringing one of his hands to hold your cheek. You melt with his touch, head tipping to the side to get more of it. “I was going to ask you if I could stay the rest of the week.”
You think about how there’s already enough of his clothes in your drawers for him to stay over and nod your head. Your eyes open and focus on his. “Of course, you can.”
“Let me take care of you, okay?” He drops his forehead against yours while he whispers. “What do you need baby, name it.”
You hum and close your already heavy eyes. “A shower, the leftovers in the fridge, and 10 hours of cuddling.”
Steve smiles, bringing his smile over your lips as he dips his head. “I can do that.” His lips brush against yours as he speaks, and you smile.
“And a kiss?” You add moving your hand from his forearm to the back of his neck slowly.
“Always. All of them, anytime you want.” He says before closing the gap small gap between you.
You’re unable to hold back the sigh that leaves your lips at the kiss and you’re mindful of your arm as you lean your body closer to Steve’s. He is warm against you, gentle in the way he holds your face but not as much as he kisses you. His kisses are needy, a firm pressure against yours, and you can relate to what he’s feeling. It’s been a long and stressful day, one that’s taken a toll on you and, on top of keeping you from sharing a single kiss, most likely worried Steve more than he let show. You feel your body humming with love, your fingertips tingling with it; the wholesome feeling of Steve’s affection, soothing and curing every worry and discomfort you shoved back throughout the day. He pulls back after a few minutes and presses his nose to the side of yours while he keeps you close.
“I love you.” He whispers. “You were so brave today.”
“I love you.” You mumble against this lips, unable to stop yourself from placing a couple of kisses over his bottom lip. “I was terrified, I don’t know what I would have done without you.”
“I always got you, babygirl.” Steve says kissing you softly one more time.
“Can you help me shower?” You ask him even though you know he’ll say yes. “I don’t know how I’ll manage to wash my hair with one arm like this.”
Steve follows your eyes down to your cast before he looks back at you. “You don’t even have to ask. Besides, I gotta make sure you don’t get your cast wet.”
You nod your head. “There’s plastic bags in the kitchen, I think that’ll help?”
“I’ll grab them. You head over to the shower okay, beautiful? I’ll be right there.” Steve leaves a lingering kiss on your lips before disappearing into the kitchen while you stare at his retreating figure, wondering how you got so lucky.
✫✶✫✶✫✶✫✶✫✶✫✶
#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington#steve harrington x fem!reader#steve harrington x you#steve harrington imagine#steve harrington fanfic#steve harrington fic#steve harrington hurt/comfort#stranger things#joe keery#joe keery x reader#steve harrington story#steve harrington blurb#boyfriend steve harrington
561 notes
·
View notes
Text
Every Girl But One - P1
Summary: Growing up with Steve Harrington as your best friend meant that you saw each other as family. Watching that role stick after your feelings for him change can only hurt.
Pairing: Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader
WC: 2889
Warnings: angst, swearing and dumbass steve :)
A/N: based on a true fucking story because god i fucking hate 'being one of the boys'
Here is part 2!
(divider by @delishlydelightfuldividers)
Steve always said that you were his best girl, his unbiological sister, his sidekick, ever since you were little kids. You'd spend summers with him, running around his or your yard, chasing each other with bubbles or water guns. In school, you shared all your classes, purposely choosing them each year so you'd be seated together. Every time you cried, Steve was there to wipe your tears, dust you off, and get you back on track. Every time Steve was sad at watching his parents leave for their usual meetings, you invited him over for a movie and a sleepover. There was this unspoken, mutually benficial relationship you had that no matter the situation, you'd always be there for each other. But of course, you just had to catch feelings for him.
You had to catch feelings for Steve 'The Hair' Harrington, who developed this flirtatious drawl and touchy mannerisms. You first witnessed it in the 8th grade, Steve wanted to ask Suzie Carter to the summer dance, and of course she said yes. Your eyebrow raised, initially weirded out by the sudden change in voice and unfamiliar behaviour, but you passed it off as 'something guys just do'. The second time it happened was only 2 weeks later, when Steve asked Alice Brown to be his girlfriend. Naturally, you were shocked that he took interest in her, as you thought he liked Suzie, but you didn't really question it further than that. Eventually, it overtook his whole personality, it was like some persona that possessed him, only when he spoke to girls, when he spoke to any girl. Any girl but you. To you, he just went back to his original self, talking to you like he would when you were 10 years old again.
Of course, you tried to brush it off like it was nothing, you guys were best friends, always had been, always will be, so of course he'd talk to you the same! Yet your foolish heart cracked more and more each time he'd tell you about his conversations with girls, girls prettier than you, kinder than you, more deserving of his love than you.
I'm telling you now Y/N, you gotta fix this, either tell him, get rejected and move on, or tell him and start dating, or just force your feelings away. It's only going to end badly for you, because he's stupid and blind.
Your other friends warned you, which you were appreciative of, but you couldn't help but follow your feelings. The familiar ache would start again in your chest whenever you saw him leaning up against some locker, running his fingers over some new girl's chin, wondering when it would be you. A part of you knew that if you ever had that chance, you'd probably just be another one on the ongoing list of girls Steve talked to, but you really couldn't care less, you just wanted the validation, the achievement, his attention.
"Steve, how many girls are you going to talk to this year?" you asked, sipping on your lemonade as you spent another day basking in the summer heat with Steve.
"What kinda question is that, Y/N?" he asked, tilting his head to the left.
"A genuine one! I always see you talking to girls in the hallway, so let's make a bet. I think that this year, this school year, you're going to talk to 35 girls."
"35?! I feel like I can do better than that!"
"Oh, so now your goal is to talk to as many girls as possible?"
"Well, not exactly, and plus, when you say it like that you make it sound like a bad thing!"
"Well... Yeah. Nobody likes being the second, third, or 35th choice Steve. You're breaking hearts!"
"Oh come on Y/N, it's nothing serious, I'm sure I'm not breaking hearts. If I was, they'd say something to me, but they're not! I'm just having fun, y'know?"
"Sure, whatever you say Stevie."
"I think I'm going to talk to 50."
"Jesus Steve the goal is to go down, not up!"
"Hey, I'm just being realistic."
"So, senior year, you'll go out with a bang, huh? Why not just try to talk to every girl! Get them all on your belt!"
"Every girl but one."
Your heart stopped at hearing Steve say this, somewhere deep down in your mind you knew that he was going to say that you were the exception, he could never see you as anything more than his friend.
"Who's the one exception Steve?"
"You, duh!"
He said it with such enthusiasm, like it was obvious, and you couldn't help but internally scream as you scrambled to pull together the broken pieces of your heart that had just shattered in your chest.
Steve spoke again after you were silent for too long.
"Y/N...? You okay?"
"Hm? Yeah, I'm fine."
"You sure?"
"Yup! 'M good."
"Okay... You know you'll always be my girl right? These others might come and go but I'll always have your back, just you and me against the world."
"Yeah Steve, I know."
He pulled you into a hug, one that you didn't really reciprocate, but moved just enough to convince him that you were okay. A part of you started to dread going back to school with him, knowing that you'd endure another year of watching him flirt with girls left and right. But there really wasn't much you could do, Steve was too stuck in his mindset, or 'had his head too far up his ass' as your friends liked to phrase it.
To your surprise, Steve kept his number of girls to a minimum, somehow falling head over heels for none other than Nancy Wheeler. It kinda made sense, she was pretty, smart, motivated, and you guessed that Steve liked the challenge; she wasn't like any of the other girls he would ask out. So when you'd hear the occasional "Hey, have you heard? Steve and Nancy are still going at it! Can you believe it's lasted anything longer than a hookup?" you were slightly shocked. Naturally, as his relationship with Nancy progressed, yours deteriorated. He spent less and less time with you, talking to you, even looking at you, pouring all his time and attention into his girlfriend. Of course you understood, you'd want your own boyfriend to do the same, but your heart burned, longing for your friendship and the way things used to be.
"Come on, Y/N, we've got to get you out of this funk. I don't care that you and Steve used to be best friends, it's time for you to move on." Robin moaned as she tried to pull you off her bedroom floor by your wrist.
"Move on? Who said I was stuck on him in the first place?" you asked as you looked up at her.
"Y/N, I'm not stupid, you look at him like you're a puppy who got left on the side of the road."
"Uh, as if! I just, miss my friend, that's all."
"Yeah, and the hypothetical relationship you could have had! It's so obvious that you were head over heels for him."
"Even if I was, there's nothing I can do about it Robs, he's got eyes for Nancy and Nancy only."
"Y'know, I heard a rumour that she's been hanging out with Jonathan."
"Wait what, Jonathan who?"
"That Byers kid, the photographer?"
"I thought he was... y'know..."
"Oh my god Y/N you can say the word gay."
"Gay! Yeah, what happened to him being gay?"
"Who knows? Who cares? He's obviously done something to attract Nancy."
"I'm sure it's just some stupid rumour, started by Tommy or something, to get back at Steve."
"No I'm serious! People have seen them driving home together!"
"Yeah, whatever you say Robin."
"Look, regardless of Nancy's situation, you need to get off your ass about Steve. He's clearly too dumb to see what he's been missing. You're a great girl, you're kind, you're pretty, and you've always been there for him. Can you say the same about him? Aboslutely not! Therefore, I suggest we kick the 'ditch Steve' plan into action! We can even find you a different guy! I heard Billy's single these days!"
"Really Robin? You did not just suggest Billy as a replacement for Steve. And he's always single! That's his whole thing, hookups or nothing!"
"Okay, sure, maybe he's racist and misogynistic, but what guy isn't these days? He'll be perfect to take your mind off of Harrington!"
"Oh yeah, that's a great idea, get fucked by Billy Hargrove and lose all thoughts of Steve Harrington!" you deadpanned, causing Robin to losen her grasp on your arm and fall to the floor laughing.
"This is serious Robin! I can't continue living my life obsessing over him! It's bad enough that he's my best friend!"
"He was your best friend!"
"Thank you so much for reminding me."
The two of you stayed on her floor for what felt like hours, thinking of different ways to get over Steve, ultimately failing to come up with a concrete plan. It felt like no matter what you did you'd come back to the same conclusion, you'd always have a crush on him and he'd always just see you as a friend, and nothing more. At least talking to your friends about it offered some form of distraction.
A few days later word spread around that a Halloween party was being hosted, and for some reason, everyone was invited. Robin forced you to attend, saying it would be a good way to take your mind off of your crush, which you replied to saying you agreed except for the fact that Steve and Nancy would most likely be there, thus backfiring on her plan. Yet, for some reason you still went, choosing to momentarily forget about your problems. You showed up to the house with Robin, not really dressed as anything in particular, about 2 hours late, hoping you would have avoided the initial rush.
"Y/L/N, is that you?" a voice called out to you from the dark. You squint your eyes to find Billy, leaning against his car, smoking probably for the millionth time that night.
"What do you want Billy?" you asked with an uninterested tone.
"Just curious, since when do you go to parties little lady?"
"God, don't call me that. And whether or not I go to parties or not is none of your business."
He sauntered up to you and your surroundings suddenly seemed smaller, like the world was shrinking into you. You couldn't keep your eyes off of his as he slowly walked up to you, using his free hand to move the hair out of your face. If your heart was beating before, it was definitely racing now, as Robin's words echoed back to you. Sure there was a chance Billy would completely ignore you after the night, but the sudden attention made you burn up.
"Hm, a different nickname then? Princess? Sweetheart? Ba-"
"Get your fucking hands off of her, Billy." Steve growled as he burst through the door.
"This doesn't concern you Harrinton, go tend to your girlfriend, or what's left of her now that she's dealing with Byers."
You didn't expect Steve to show up and talk to Billy like that, especially after practically ignoring your existence for months. You also definitely didn't expect him to grab him by the collar and slam him into a tree, threatening to do worse if he didn't leave you alone. Billy took the hint and wandered into the house, claiming he wasn't 'drunk enough for this shit'.
Steve turned to look at you, his expression softening when he saw you looking at him oddly.
"Come on, Y/N, don't look at me like that."
"Don't look at you like what?"
"Like you aren't happy to see me!"
"Well, I'm not... I'm surprised you even remember my name."
"What? The hell are you talking about?"
"Steve, you haven't spoken to me in months, let alone looked at me. Now you come out here and shoo Billy away?"
"Billy isn't good for you, Y/N, you know that."
"And you do?"
"Yes! I'm your best friend, I'll always watch out for you!"
"No Steve, you're barely even just a friend these days! You've been so occupied with Nancy that you haven't even had the time to look at me! I'm not asking for much Steve, just for you to acknowledge my existence. But I guess your girl is more important than that."
"She's... she's not my girl."
"So the rumours are true?"
"Yeah, she got drunk and then told me we were bullshit, that our love was bullshit."
"I'm sorry Steve, that's a horrible way to be broken up with."
"Yeah. I guess it's back to finding a girl I go."
"Wait, you just got dumped, and you're seriously back to finding a girl?"
"I mean, yeah? What else would I do?"
"How bout take some time off? Think about what is wrong with you that made Nancy break up with you?"
"What's wrong with me? What about what's wrong with her? And what's wrong with you?! Why are you saying there's something wrong with me?"
"Steve, she's a smart girl, she wouldn't have just dumped you for no reason. And she's nice, so if it was the case of feelings disappearing she would have dumped you differently."
Steve shook his head at your words, sliding down next to your feet as you leaned against the same tree where Billy was pushed into.
"Y'know, I thought you'd be more excited to talk to me." he whispered.
"Y'know, so did I."
"So why aren't you?"
"I'm tired, Steve."
"Oh, do you want me to drive you home?"
"No, I mean my heart, is tired. I'm mentally exhausted."
"What's up?"
"I have spent years with you, loving you, and being in love with you. And you'd think that you'd be able to stop, just for one fucking second, to look at what's right in front of you and see what's there. See that I have always been, and probably always will be, there. But no, you fuck off from girl to girl and the second you get with Nancy, nobody else exists. And the moment you're done with Nancy, you're already gone again, looking for girl, looking for any girl, but me, of course. Because to you I'm not a girl, to you I'm Y/N, I'm different, I'll never be a girl that you can see in any way other than your close friend. That's what's up, Steve."
Steve's jaw dropped at your confession. You weren't sure where the sudden nerve to spit out such a monologue came from, it's not like you were drunk or high. The adrenaline died out and you were left a burning mess, thanking the darkness of the night for hiding the embarassment left on your face.
"Y/N... I, I don't really know what to say."
"Yeah I figured... You haven't known for some time."
"I didn't know you saw me that way."
"Of course you didn't."
"I'm sorry for being so blind."
"Yeah."
"I'm so-"
"Look, Steve, if all you're going to do is apologize for your behaviour, which is what you should have done ages ago, I'm going to go. I don't expect you to say anything, but I don't see any reason to stay. Unless you want me to stay."
You still held on to a slight sliver of hope, wondering if Steve would actually ask you to stay.
"I think you should go."
"What?"
"You should go, Y/N, I don't know what I can say to you. This changes things."
You felt your heart break at Steve's sudden coldness.
"What the hell does this change? I thought you would just go about ignoring me like you have for the past 6 months?"
"Don't you get it, Y/N? I can't ignore you now, now that you've said the one thing I've feared for so long."
"Hold on, feared?"
"Yes! Feared! Because now we will never go back to just being friends."
"Steve, you're being fucking weird. What the hell are you talking about?"
"I'm gonna go, if you won't. I'm sorry Y/N. Bye."
Steve got up and walked away, back into the house. You felt the tears threaten to escape your eyes as you tried to process the mess of a conversation that had just happened. Some part of you thought it wasn't real, the other more logical part of you knew you had to find Robin as fast as possible and leave immediately.
"Holy shit, Y/N. I heard the whole thing!" Robin called out as she ran towards you.
"Wait, you did?"
"Yeah, I came out here cause the music was getting too loud inside and then I hid behind Billy's car when I heard you and Steve talk. Now let's go, you need to cry it out and I need to plan Steve's demise."
Robin pulled you along away from the party as you let the tears now stream down your face. Everything that could have gone wrong, went wrong, and Steve's words and behaviour felt like a slap in the face.
#steve harrington#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x fem!reader#steve harrington fluff#steve harrington angst#steve harrington fanfic#steve harrington fanfiction#steve harrington x you#steve harrington x y/n#steve harrington reader insert#stranger things fanfic#stranger things fanfiction#stranger things#steve harrington story#steve harrington imagine#vellarawrites
222 notes
·
View notes
Note
Steve x fem reader
can i get a request where the reader (who is steve's is girlfriend) is self harming, and steve finds out, and feels super guilty for not noticing the signs.
Steve Harrington x Reader
TRIGGER WARNING: Talk of Self-harm. Mentions of violence, death, sex & cursing.
A/N: I am SO sorry this took so long. I’ve been so busy with summer classes and work. I also haven’t written in years and this is only my second time writing since I started up again, so I apologize if it’s not the best. If you are struggling with self harm, please don’t hesitate to reach out to me and or someone close to you. You’re not alone, and there is help out there for you. My messages are open for anyone who may need it. This takes place during S3, but obviously with a few changes :) GIF IS NOT MINE
“How long did you think you’d be able to hide this?” Steve finally broke the long silence.
You were sitting in the passenger's seat of your boyfriend's car. Your knees were pulled up against your chest, blinking back tears as you stared out the window at the now empty parking lot of Starcourt.
“Steve, I-”
“No,” He cut you off. “I should’ve noticed the signs. I mean shit,” He pauses and runs his hand through his hair with a frustrated sigh. “Long sleeves in the summer, refusing to swim when I know you love it, never taking your shirt off during sex. I just thought you were cold, or just maybe uncomfortable with your body. I don’t know but I’m so sorry.” He looked up and met your gaze, you flinched slightly when you noticed the tears.
You never intended for him to find out, hell, you even told yourself you would stop before it got too far. But, every time you told yourself “This is the last time” you would have a nightmare about all the shit that went down the past couple years with the Upside Down. The image and sounds of Bob being ripped apart by the demodogs, Joyces earth shattering scream as Hopper dragged her away from her dying boyfriend, the feeling of the demogorans' nails as they sunk into your skin while it was on top of you, the realization on what actually happened to Barb. It was just a constant loop. You couldn’t talk about it because you knew everyone else was suffering too, and you figured that they all wanted to just forget about it. So you handled it in your own way and had done a good job hiding it from everyone. The excuses on why you were in a jacket in the middle of summer or why you never wanted to go swimming came easily. You thought that you were in the clear and that your secret was safe. You couldn’t have been more wrong.
---
“Mike said that there was no way it was hot enough to fry an egg on the sidewalk but it was!” Dustin said as the two of you walked into Scoops Ahoy. “So, I had to prove it to him.”
“And?”
“And I did! The egg started cooking the second I cracked it on the sidewalk,” He shrugged before letting out a laugh as he approached the counter. “It was so fucking cool”
“Hey! Language,” Robin scolded. “There’s children around here!”
Dustin said something back but you missed it since you were being lifted up in the air. You let out a small scream before sighing in relief as you were placed back down on the ground.
“Relax, baby. I wouldn’t drop you.” Steve rolled his eyes before placing a soft kiss on your forehead.
“I know, dummy. I just don’t appreciate being lifted in the air unexpectedly.” You leaned into his chest as he wrapped his arms around you.
“You want your usual, darling?” He asked, pulling away and walking towards the counter. “Or did you want to try something different? We got a new flavor.”
“Surprise me,” You shrugged. “Am I good to go sit in the back?”
“Don’t tell him that or you’ll have every single flavor stacked on a cone.” Robin scoffed.
“He can’t even stack two scoops,” You chuckle as Steve lets out an offended gasp.
“Go to the back, you’re so mean.” Steve fake pouts as he points to the door. “El is back there by the way, just so you know. Max brought her here but she went to the bathroom so I told El she could eat her ice cream back there since. . .ya know,”
You shoot him a thumbs up as you push the door open. Eleven looks up from her spot at the small table, ice cream on her upper lip and nose, and gives you a small smile.
“Hi, El! I didn’t think you were allowed to be here. I thought Hopper had a rule about public places.” You sit down across from her. “Not that I’m unhappy to see you!” You add on when you notice her confused face.
“I make my own rules.” She grins. “That’s what Max said,” She takes another lick from her ice cream. “She also said Mike is a piece of shit.”
“What? Why?” You hold back a laugh. You had never heard her cuss before, so it was amusing to hear.
“He lied about his Nana being sick.” She looked down at her lap. Her face pulling down into a frown. "To avoid seeing me."
“Yeah, he is a piece of shit.” You shake your head. “Hey, don’t be sad. This is on him, not you.” You reach over to hold her hand, giving it a little squeeze.
“Hurt?” She tilts her head.
“It does hurt when someone you love lies to you but-”
“No, hurt.” She points at your wrist. “You,”
You glance down and realize your sleeve had moved up a little when you reached across the table. You quickly pull your arm back and tug it back down.
“No, um,” You take a deep breath. “I’m okay, I just fell. Don’t worry about it, alright?”
The door flew open and Steve waltzed in holding a cup of ice cream. He paused when he saw the look on your face before glancing over at El.
“Everything okay?” He sat the cup down on the table with a questioning look.
You looked at El with pleading eyes.
“She’s hurt,” El answers him. “Arm”
You felt your world stop as your eyes darted back and forth between the two of them. You weren’t mad at her, no, she was just worried. She was still learning basic social cues and emotions, so of course she wouldn’t have understood the look you gave her. She just saw that you were hurt and wanted to make sure you were alright.
“Oh, what happened sweetheart?” Steve asked. “Can I see?”
“I-I-um,” You stuttered, still frozen in the position you were when he came in.
“Did you fall again? You are the queen of falling after all.” He teased as he reached for your arm. You wanted to pull away, to make up an excuse but your body wouldn’t let you. You felt your sleeve move as he pulled it up and even though you couldn’t see his face you could hear him inhale sharply and felt the tension radiating off of him as he stood still. A full minute passed until he finally spoke. “Alright, baby girl. Let’s go.” His voice was shaky but gentle.
“Don’t you still have half an hour left?” You forced yourself to look at him as you stood but he avoided your gaze and kept his focus on the door.
“It’s fine,” He placed his hand on your back as he guided you toward the door.
“Bye, El.” You called over your shoulder.
“Bye, Y/N” She gave a small wave, confusion written all over her face.
“Robin, I’m leaving,” Steve barely even looked in her direction as he continued to lead you out of the shop.
“Uh, hello? Can you not wait? I can’t close on my own, dingus!” Robin scoffed, looking up from the register.
“Dustin can help,” Steve answered, pushing you along a little faster.
“What?” You heard Dustin yell as you swiftly walked toward the entrance of the mall.
Steve remained silent the entire walk to his car but his hand stayed on your back. He opened the passenger's side door for you. You crawled inside and brought your knees up to your chest. Your heart raced as you waited for him to get inside. Your mind was an endless black hole of how things would play out. Would he leave you? Yell at you? Call you stupid? Your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of Steve slamming the door behind him as he got in. You wanted to say something but nothing would come out. The only sound was the music playing softly on the radio. You snuck a quick peek over at Steve and saw he was looking straight ahead with a look on his face that held so much emotion you couldn’t even pinpoint how he was feeling. The two of you remained like that for the next hour.
---
“I didn’t want you to know, Stevie.”
“Why?”
You looked down at your hands and fiddled with your fingers. “You have problems too, and I didn’t want to add onto those. I figured that I could handle this and that I’d be able to stop, but I couldn’t and-” You choked back a sob as tears ran down your face and you felt Steve’s thumb gently wipe them away.
“Y/N, look at me.” Steve whispered. You looked over at him and he took your face in his hands. “You don’t have to tell me everything, you don’t even have to talk if you don’t want to. You can just cry, scream, or do whatever it is you need but please, please come to me. I’ll listen to you or I’ll just hold you while you let it all out but you can’t hurt yourself anymore, baby.” He placed a kiss on your forehead before speaking again. “I know that’s easier said than done, so if you do hurt yourself again you can tell me, okay? I won’t be mad because I can’t just expect you to stop instantly but I want to help you. I want to be there for you. Your problems are my problems, angel. Do you know how many times you’ve stayed up with me when I had a nightmare? Or when you helped patch me up after Hargrove beat the shit out of me? You’re there for me, so please, please, let me be there for you. I don’t care what time it is, call me and I’ll be there”
The sobs you were trying so hard to hold back finally broke free. Your body shook with every breath you took as you cried into his shoulder. Steve gently wrapped his arms around you and you felt his hand begin to rub your back as he kissed the top of your head. He held you until you finally felt all cried out and you slowly pulled away.
“Better?” He tucked a piece of hair behind your ear. You nodded, a smile forming on your face. “Good, darling. How about we go rent a movie, get some snacks and you can sleep over?”
“Can we watch The Breakfast Club?”
“Again?” He raises an eyebrow. “Didn’t we just watch it last week?”
“Yes, but I wanna watch it again.” You whine. “Please?” You stick your bottom lip out and bat your eyes.
“Oh come on. You know I can’t resist the bambi look.” He groans while rolling his eyes. “Ugh, okay fine. Anything for you, pretty girl.” He sighs as he starts the car. “You’re lucky I love you” He reaches his hand over and places it on your thigh before driving out of the parking lot.
“I know,” You giggle, laying your hand on top of his . You really were the luckiest girl in the world.
#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington imagine#steve harrington#stranger things#steve harrington stranger things#steve harrington story#steve harrington x you#dustin henderson#robin buckley#eleven hopper#steve harrington one shot#steve harrington x y/n#stranger things imagine#stranger things one shot#stranger things x y/n
185 notes
·
View notes
Text
Struck Blind {Steve Harrington x Reader, Part 6}
Wordcount: 2641
Chapter Summary: There's some strangeness around Billy. Steve-free chapter.
Previous Chapter can be found here.
Next Chapter can be found here.
Something was going on with Billy. You couldn’t quite put your finger on what it was but he was spending more time out than usual. He was yelling back at Neil more than usual. He wasn’t playful with you or Max, he wasn’t teasing or offering to spend time with you. He only really came home to sleep. At first, you thought perhaps he found himself a girlfriend rather than fucking around all the time, that could be an explanation for being out at all hours of the night. But not the surly attitude. And not him ignoring you like this. He had never done that before. What if he had found out about your date with Steve - what if he had overheard Max asking you about it when you got home afterwards? No, even that wouldn’t account for this. He’d be mad but he’d most likely try to lecture you about it, to remind you of what a piece of shit Steve was. He wasn’t the type to keep it bottled inside - he took it out on the world.
But it also wasn’t as if Billy was the kind of guy who would let loose his feelings if he was pestered to. So you just watched him from afar, and hoped for the best. There was nothing else for it.
You grabbed a Popsicle and sat outside on the front porch, trying to catch any of the breeze that was supposed to be out here, according to the weatherman. But there was no breeze - just clouds starting to form, threatening a storm. You sighed and went over my options for the day - bus to the mall, bus to the library… all involving buses because Billy was MIA. There was only a small oil patch on the ground where his Camaro usually was. You licked the cherry Popsicle and stared at it, thinking about the night that we got into that accident. And how that really showed Billy’s character. That he just took off after that. Left you there because you wanted to help. Maybe you didn’t know your cousin as well as you thought that you did.
“Do you know where Billy is?” Max’s voice hit you. You looked up to see her and Eleven starting to walk up towards the house. Their expressions were extremely serious. Much more serious than someone their ages should be.
“No idea, he was gone before I was awake,” You said, looking between the two. “I don’t even know if he came home at all last night.”
Now the two girls looks at each other.
A moment later, after filling you in about what they had done last night, Eleven with her astral projection or whatever it’s called, you were in Billy’s room with them, keeping a look-out though everyone was at work. “Why do I get the feeling we’re going to find all kinds of wrong in here?” Max asked.
“Just don’t touch any tissues, they’re not used for sneezing,” You advised, wishing you had thought to put on some dish washing gloves. But you were too curious not to be in here. Too concerned not to.
Billy’s room was messier than it usually was - not that he kept it clean exactly but this was the room of someone that had been distracted. Dirty clothes spilling out of his laundry basket and onto the ground; his radio still on and playing metal music; his ashtray overflowing and so he started using a plate that still had sandwich crumbs on it. You remembered making him that sandwich. That was days ago.
Max went to his night table, opening it up and peering inside. “Ugh, gag me with a spoon,” She said, closing it back up quickly. You didn’t have to ask what was in there. Teenage boys. Disgusting.
You don’t find anything in the bedroom, other than the signs that he hadn’t been cleaning, so you three went into the bathroom. It had changed since you had taken a shower yesterday afternoon. The bathtub was filled with water, and empty plastic bags were swimming on the surface. Bags of ice from the corner store. The ones used to fill coolers and the like.
“Max?” El asks. Your redhead cousin stepped forward, grabbing one of the empty plastic bags.
“Ice,” She said, reading the bag. “It’s just ice. It’s probably for his muscles or something. He works out like a maniac, right y/n?”
“He does,” You had to agree with that, but the fact that he would just leave the mess in there despite knowing that Neil would get on his case about it … that was a bad sign. And then your eyes caught on another one. Blood. You definitely hadn’t noticed that today. El noticed too. Her breath was trembling, and you lightly put your arm around her, trying to reassure her that everything was going to be okay, that there was an explanation for this, a reasonable one, there had to be. But she pulls from you and opens up the cupboard beneath the sink. She pulls out the garbage bucket that was in there. The one that you cleaned a few days ago, emptying into the trash bin.
“What is it?” You ask with a tremor.
El pulled out the red lifeguard first aid kit, and then there was a lanyard, with a bright yellow whistle. Or it had been bright yellow. Now, like the lanyard, it was blood stained.
“Well shit,” You sighed.
--
And somehow, you ended up in the locker room of the pool, after discovering that Billy wasn’t there, and that the lifeguard first aid kit, and the whistle, belong to Heather Holloway. The locker room smelt like wet clothes and unwashed feet, something that was noticed by Max too as her nose curled up once you were in there. But there wasn’t much time to waste.
You start flooding the locker room, turning on showers, sink taps, everything that we can in order to help El find Heather. Find Billy.
“This could just be .. jerk Billy behavior right?” You asked Max, as El was putting duct tape over a diving mask. “You don’t think it’s…”
“I don’t know. He’s always been weird,” Max said, which you could understand. “But he was doing a lot better since you came here so…”
Although that was a really nice thing to hear, it didn’t help that much right now. “Wish it worked enough that he would actually talk to me when something is wrong,” You mumbled.
The two of you fell into silence when El put on the blacked out diving mask, and began to look for Heather. You sat on one side of her, Max on the other, your shoes becoming soaked by the flooded floor. You just looked at her. Her powers were fascinating to you. This was the first time that you had ever seen her use them.
“What do you see?” Max asked.
“A door. A red door.”
After another minute or two, El takes off the mask. Her nose bleeding. You immediately get up to find a towel while El collapses in Max’s hands. Your cousin and yourself look at each other, and you're both thinking the same thing.
Whatever this is - it’s not good.
She comes around a short time later, and she tells everything that she saw. The red door. Heather, the missing lifeguard, she’s screaming, she’s reaching to El for help, but then she gets quickly taken away by … something. And if it wasn’t something to do with the Upside Down, then El should have been able to see it. But it wasn’t clear what it was. Something was stirring in Hawkins again, and you were apparently going to be here for it.
In your still wet shoes, you flirt with the manager of the pool, and you get him to tell you the address of Heather. It took some eyelash batting but you got the job done, thanking him for being so helpful, and how he’s such a good man to do this favor, and you even wink at him, sticking your tongue out as you turn back around.
You take the address with me back to Max and El, who are getting ready on their bikes.. “Let’s go,” You said, jumping onto the back of Max's, holding on to her shoulders.
The streets aren’t flooded yet but if the rain continues, they just might be.
Max knew the city better than you or El, but the three of you were squinting through raindrops, trying to read the numbers on the mailboxes to find the right one and then - red door.
“Is this it?” Max asked.
El nodded and together, you three walked up. You felt responsible for these kids now. Was this how Steve had felt, when he watched over them at the junkyard? When he nearly sacrificed himself to take care of the demodogs, as Dustin had called them? Whatever, you just knew that you were going to go through everything that they did. Not leave them alone in the off chance that there was something, anything that you could do.
Especially if Billy was somehow involved.
We didn’t bother knocking. Or rather, El didn’t, since she somehow unlocked the door with her mind. You walked in behind them and noticed that the interior made everything really look like it was the perfect family home. As you walked down the hallway, you saw a large family portrait. Professionally done. Mother, Father, Daughter, happy posing smiles. Looking like something straight out of Leave it to Beaver.
You hear a laugh and the three of you looked at each other. It was the last sound that you expected to hear, if Heather was really in trouble. And then seeing the happy family together, with Billy sitting there, was the last thing that you had expected to see.
“Isn’t that cute, huh?” Billy was saying.
“He’s too funny,” Mother was saying to Father.
And that’s the scene that we walked in on. And just because we were in the shot of it now, didn’t mean that it was over, apparently. Billy saw you. He saw Max. He said your names out loud.
“We didn’t mean to barge in,” Max said, speaking for the three of you. El and Max both looked like they were in disbelief. You were studying Billy, trying to figure out what was so different about him. “We tried to knock, but maybe you didn’t hear us over the storm.”
“I’m sorry, who is this dripping all over my living room right now?”
“I’m sorry,” Billy said. That was one of the startling things right there. He didn’t apologize for anything. Not unless he was being forced to and even then, it only ever came out as sarcastic. “Janet, Tom, this is my sister Maxine, and my cousin Y/N.”
He stood up, and started to walk over to you, El and Max. You stood your ground, dripping but not moving, and you were looking straight into his blue eyes.
You had known Billy all of your life. You spent time together in the same crib. The same playpens. He was at almost all of your birthday parties until they had moved here to Indiana. He was the one that you went to when you were angry, because he either helped hype up that anger until you burnt yourself out, or he was able to help you, when he didn’t even know how to help himself. He was the boy that was only scared of his dad and of dark places, like caves, or even the tubes inside of McDonalds play-places when the lights were dimmed.
So essentially, you knew Billy. Better than his father did, better than Max did. The only person who might have known him better was his mother. The person whose eyes that you were looking into right now - you knew that it was not Billy. It might have looked like Billy. But it was definitely not him. Like someone made a doll of him, a puppet. There might have been a trace, far back, but right behind those eyes was someone else. Something Else.
“What on earth are you doing here? Is something wrong?”
Your immediate reaction was to protect these girls, despite the fact that Eleven was an actual weapon and that Max could definitely handle herself, as she showed Billy last fall. You are the adult here. You need to act like it. So you pushed yourself between the two girls, standing in front of them, even as they spoke.
“We just wanted to make sure everything was okay,” Max said, her confusion showing through her voice. And now here was fake Billy with his fake concern.
“Okay, why wouldn’t it be okay?”
“Where is she?” Eleven asked.
“I’m sorry, where is who?”
Coming out of the kitchen, carrying a tray of cookies, the smell hitting you before the realization of who it was that was carrying them, came Heather. Not a scratch on her. Almost too squeaky clean. Not at all the way that Eleven had described.
But because of how Billy was acting, you believed Eleven. There was something not right going on here.
“Well, they’re a little burnt, I’m sorry-” Heather said, in her usually sweet voice. It was definitely her own voice, her own face. But whether it was actually Heather, you didn’t know. This whole scene was looking a bit too.. domestic bliss.
“Heather, this is my cousin y/n, and my sister Maxine,” Billy introduced. “And I’m sorry, I did not catch your name.”
“That’s not important,” You spoke, staring at Billy. “What are you doing here?”
That’s when El spoke, not to say her name, but to stare at Heather. “I … saw … you -”
“Your manager, at the pool,” Max said quickly. “He said you guys didn’t come in to work today, so we got worried.”
“Heather wasn’t feeling so hot today, so we thought we’d take the day off to nurse her back to health. But you’re feeling just fine now, aren’t you Heather?”
“I’m feeling so much better,” Heather agreed.
Billy looked past you at Eleven. And the look that was in his eyes - it proved to you even further that this was not your cousin. This was not the Billy that you had grown up with. There was something else in there, wearing his skin. Pretending that this was Halloween and that this boy was simply a costume. The three of you were offered cookies by Heather and her mother but you weren’t going to take them.
You didn’t want to leave without Billy. “Could you drive us home?” you asked him, pleaded with the Billy that still had to be inside of there somewhere. You couldn’t believe that he was gone. “It’s raining pretty hard out.”
“I can’t be rude,” Billy said, which was … not true. Billy could be rude. Billy was rude. The light drained from your eyes then, and you turned to the girls behind you. “Let’s go.”
The three of you in disbelief, you headed back outside into the rain. You didn’t skateboard this time. You just tucked it under your arm and walked along with the girls as they moved slowly, not able to see too much as the fog rolled in with the pelting drops. You took one last look over your shoulder at Heather’s house, and saw Billy, watching through the window. The look that he exchanged with El was more chilling than the cold rain.
“That wasn’t him,” You said, as you made your way back to Max’s house. El looked at you, like she believed you. Like she had seen it for herself, even if she didn’t have the most experience with Max’s brother. But your red haired cousin - she didn’t look so sure.
#Steve Harrington x reader#Steve Harrington story#Steve Harrington#Stranger Things#Stranger Things story#x reader#Struck Blind#SteveH
12 notes
·
View notes
Text
NOT WITHOUT YOU - STEVE HARRINGTON
DESCRIPTION I it's been a year since you left hawkins and steve to study when he comes to see you, the feelings are still here but none of knows how to deal with it.
PAIRING I steve harrington × fem!reader
WORD COUNT I 3,2k
A/N I it feels so good to write again i really hope you will love this story 🤍
You never thought you would miss Hawkins that much.
It’s been a year since you left your hometown to go to the uni. Everything was different from what you were used to. You were living by yourself in your own apartment, with the help of your parents and the little job you got at the bakery down the road. No more siblings or family reunion, just you and yourself. You were living in the city. Nothing compared to Hawkins and its casual routine.
You had friends here, but not your best friends.
Every month you got a letter from Will, telling you everything that was happening in Hawkins and what everyone was up to. You used to take care of him when he was younger and neither Joyce nor Johnathan could. You loved that child and the fact he kept sending you letters with some pictures in it even if you were away meant so much for you. You knew everything about the kids, about high school. And you loved giving him some advices.
Every now and then, Eddie was sending you some audio tapes he made himself so you could discover real new music. “I don’t want you to be corrupted by the city.” He said when you asked him on the phone why he did that.
Because yes, sometimes you managed to get them on the phone. Robin was calling you as much as she could, claiming she couldn’t live without her best friend and that you shouldn’t be surprised if one day she comes here. Someday, Eddie was there too. You also got to talk to Nancy one day. There was only one person you never got to talk with since you left. But you weren’t surprised by that.
Your life changed a lot since you left. And sometimes you felt like you weren’t even living your life. It was almost like roleplay, where you get to play the main character. The perfect girl with the perfect boyfriend who does perfectly at school. You liked Aaron. He was a really good and loving partner and it felt nice to have someone by your side in that big city. But it didn’t feel right. Maybe because you liked him.
Maybe because you still loved Steve.
When you get to bed at night, you put that new life aside and just remember your real life. The one where you have friends way younger than you, where you play D&D for hours because Eddie is almost holding you hostage to keep playing, where you’re dating Steve and you think this one is for life.
You kept only one polaroid of you two. It was taken at Robin’s birthday party and someone, nobody admitted, took it when you weren’t looking. And for good reason since you and Steve were looking at each other. You were sitting on his lap, your head turned towards him, and you were laughing at something he said. While Steve was looking at you with all the love, he felt for you. This picture was the perfect proof of the feeling you shared. Maybe that was the reason why it hurt so much to look at it.
You were pining the last picture Will send you, one he took with Max and Eleven, when you heard knocks on your door. Aaron was supposed to pick you up in an hour and he wasn’t the type to come earlier -nor later. It could be anybody: a friend, someone from school or even someone from work. That was the reason you didn’t overthink it and went to open the door immediately.
You clearly didn’t except to face a tall guy with perfect brown hair and brown eyes you fell for a million times before. “Steve?”
It took him a few seconds before speaking. “Hi.” Was the only word that came out. Steve knew where he was heading, who he was going to see. Yet, he was still surprised you were really here. Somehow, it was like his mind convinced him you didn’t exist anymore. You were just a memory from the past. Yet, you were there. Looking as beautiful as you used to. Maybe even prettier with a new confident that came with your new situation.
Steve was playing with his hands. You always loved how everyone in high school was seeing him as “King Steve”, the super confident dude that couldn’t be bothered by anything. You knew the real Steve. You weren’t many to see his real face, the one that proved he wasn’t that confident. And, demonstrated how insecure he was about his relationship or himself in general. Sadly, your own relationship proved him right. “I wanted to see you, so…”
“So, you drove from Hawkins?” it was a long ride, so you were quite surprised he did it by himself and didn’t back off before arriving here. You couldn’t imagine how long the drive must have been for him, alone with his thoughts and what he was going to tell you.
Steve simply nodded to answer your question and you shifted a little to give him the space to come in. You already knew what was coming.
“It’s…not like I thought it would be,” he said in a quiet voice, almost like he didn’t want you to hear.
When you were living in Hawkins, your room was the perfect representation of your mind and your obsession. A new band to fall in love with? Their music was playing nonstop. A new favorite movie? The poster was hanging in front of your bed. When you were in your green mood two years ago, you changed your sheets and curtains to match the energy. And that kind of things happened a lot of time.
But this apartment could have been anybody’s. The walls were white, the furniture was in a basic wood style and there were no posters or music playing. The only thing that could tell it was yours were the pictures hanging on the wall. Of course, it didn’t look like you.
“I didn’t want to decorate it too much. You know, I’m not going to live here forever so…” and you weren’t lying. You didn’t feel like decorate a place that wasn’t totally yours. It didn’t feel right.
But what you weren’t saying was that you didn’t want to put your true self in between these walls. The real you were in Hawkins, with your friends and Steve. Not here. It didn’t feel right to make a replica of your bedroom here.
“It’s not like you’re coming home either.” It hurt. Because Steve was right. You never came back in a year. Not even for Christmas, which wasn’t your fault in the first place but the snow which blocked all the roads. And your parents decided to come here to celebrate New Year’s Eve, meaning you didn’t have to come back at all.
If you came back, you wouldn’t have left again. And you couldn’t let that new life behind, no matter if you didn’t feel like you were playing the starring role in it. You wanted to study. You wanted that diploma. You wanted to have a future that looks exactly like you wanted it to be. Meaning you had to go through this weird phase where nothing felt right and you just wanted to cuddle in your bed, smelling your house’s perfume. Finding your lover again.
You didn’t answer anything because you knew Steve was right. You thought that going in the kitchen to offer him a glass of water was a good solution to move on and talk about something else. You had no idea that Steve was looking at the only piece of furniture that show who you were. And it didn’t take him long to notice the face that didn’t belong there.
“So, how long are you stay…”
“You have a boyfriend?”
His tone was harsh. Almost like he was reproaching you for dating someone else. You noticed he took the picture from your wall and was holding it in his hand. It looked like he was trying to take this thing away from you and from your life. But it didn’t work like that. “Yes, I do.” It wasn’t even like you could lie about Aaron. That picture was subjective about the situation. You were kissing each other in front of the Christmas tree. So not only did Steve understood that you weren’t single anymore and you replaced him. But he knew it had been going on for many months now.
One of the things that hurt Steve the most was that Aaron looked nothing like him. And it could mean two things. Either you choose to date someone different to forget about Steve or Steve was never your type. Either way, there was no good in this situation and he hated it. And he hated that boy too.
“Good. So, he’s the reason you completely forgot about us?” Steve knew you didn’t lose touch with everyone. If Robin was trying to be subtle about your call, he saw the letters you sent to Will. He even read some of them when he wasn’t feeling well about your absence and the boy offered it. He was aware he should have fight harder for you but a part of him was still bitter than you decided to leave.
When you opened your mouth to answer him, Steve put his hand up to stop you. “Don’t bother. I don’t except anything from you anymore.” He threw the picture on your bed, not even putting it back on your wall, before looking at the window.
“What do you mean you don’t except anything? Why are you even here Steve?” when you were dating, you weren’t fighting a lot. It happened, for different stupid reasons, but it was never too serious. A good laugh and you were back as nothing happened.
But since you broke up, it felt like you were enemies. At least, that was how you felt with his silence. And his presence here just confirmed your feeling.
“Honestly? I don’t know.” He sighed, turning around to face you. “I thought there was something to save here. But I was too stupid to think you still cared.”
“I still care! I always did!” you approached him, ready to prove him you were never the bad guy in the story. Sure, you decided to leave but breaking up with Steve was never an option until he decided it was.
“Then why are you dating that dude!” Nothing scared you more than Steve screaming. He was keeping so much anger in him that when he was letting everything out, it was a pure massacre. He made another step towards you. Only a few centimeters were separating your bodies now. “And don’t tell me it’s because I’m not here because you choose that.”
“I waited for you Steve! The morning before I left, I had waited almost an hour. I told my parents I needed some time when I was waiting for you to come. We could have talked about this. We could have found a way for you to come with me. But you never came Steve!” you screamed with a broken voice, hitting his chest. You could feel the tears coming already and you hated that. You hated him for that. How could he make you feel miserable, like you didn’t fight for this relationship when he was the one who gave up in first place. You noticed how he put his hands on his hair, something he used to do when he felt like the situation was getting out of hands. He knew there was only one destination for this fight.
“And what was I supposed to do, hm? I had nothing here!” Steve could see this sentence was the turning point. The moment when you couldn’t handle it anymore. Your expression changed for good and you let your arms go down on your body like you didn’t have any strength to fight anymore.
“You had me Steve! We could have figured something out.” It was over now; your tears were running down your cheeks and you could feel your throat being sore. You weren’t the type to cry too easily. Steve barely saw you cry when you were dating. Maybe it explained why he didn’t answer and couldn’t move now that you let your emotions won. Only after a few seconds he put his hand up to touch you. Only for you to slam it away.
“Leave.” You mumbled. He frowned; not sure he got it. But when you repeated it louder this time, with your finger pointed to the door for a few seconds before you used it to put away the tear of your cheek, he knew he understood it right.
You couldn’t even look at him leaving the room. It was like losing Steve one more time. And each time hurt more than the last. You just fell on your bed once you heard the door closed behind him. And you let all the tears dry your pillow.
You had no idea that on the other side of the door, Steve fell against the wall, his head buried in his hands, letting his own sorrow get the upper hand. He came here to talk with you, not to fight. He came here to offer his heart again, not to get it broken once again. Maybe I’m not special, he thought. Maybe I’m easy to forget. He couldn’t believe you were already offering your love to someone new. Having no idea that there was never any love involved in your life when it wasn’t for Steve Harrington.
When you put your hand under your pillow, you felt the texture of the polaroid laying there. You almost forgot about it. How could something so beautiful turn until something so cruel and awful? Why couldn’t you fight for this relationship?
Seeing Steve reminded you there was nothing good in your life ever since he left it. Like he took away all the pretty colors in the world and he was the only person you could see them with. Without Steve, everything was a boring black and white picture. And you didn’t want to live like that.
Without thinking any longer, you got up and looked over the window. For the first time, you noticed Steve’s car parked in front of your building. Meaning he was still over here. If he wasn’t in the building, you could still wait for him and try to have a conversation. You convinced yourself it was the right thing to do. You didn’t even take the time to cover the tears or the black trails on your cheeks before opening the door to look for the man you loved.
Hopefully, you didn’t have to go too far away since Steve was still sitting here. He looked up, thinking at first that he was facing one of your neighbors that will try to make him leave. He was more than relieved to see you. He got up quickly, almost stumbling on himself before walking to you.
“I don’t want to lose you again.” You simply said before grabbing Steve by the neck and kissing him. Kissing him again felt like eating your favorite meal after a long time. You had butterflies in your stomach and your brain was overworking from finding this feeling again. His lips still tasted the same, a kind of salty menthol taste from all the mint candies he was eating when he was driving. It was pleasing to notice you still had the same habits when kissing. You had a hand on his neck and another grabbing his chain while he had one hand on your face, with his thumb sightly caressing your cheek, and his arm around your waist to keep you close.
Step by step, you came back in your apartment. It was like your brain was shut down and you let your heart decided what you wanted to do. And what you wanted was to reconnect completely with Steve. So, you let yourself fell in the bed, with him on top of you. And when you felt his jerky breathing against your neck, you knew that after a long time you were finally in the right place. Feeling good.
You could still feel Steve’s heat after you made loved. You were cuddling against him, your face on his chest, playing with his chest hair with your fingers like you used to do. “You’re becoming a big man” you remembered telling me the first time you had sex together and his chest hair started to grow back, after years of shaving it. You will always remember his laugh, his warmth and lovely laugh before he had kissed your forehead. “I’m trying to be a good man for you the woman I love.”
But as much as you loved being in his arms again, like you were back home, there was still something on your mind. Something that was coming back now that the adrenaline of sleeping together again was leaving your body. “I meant it, Steve.” You looked at him, but he didn’t stop brushing your hair with so much tenderness you could fall asleep at 3 p.m. “I don’t want to lose you again.” you whispered, almost like you were scared this would break this moment.
And for a few seconds, you really thought you broke everything. Steve looked at you silently, biting his lips like he always did when he was thinking. He put a hand on his hair, like he was really trying to find something good to say. And you feared that he was just looking for a good way to tell you there was no future for you. You really did.
“I didn’t talk about it with anyone because I have no idea how things would turn when I come here. And clearly, it wasn’t an easy one when I arrive. But…I looked for job ads here.” He closed an eye, like he was trying to avoid the confrontation. But you were clearly more enthusiastic that he thought you would be. At least that’s what he discovered when you jumped on his lap.
“You did? For real? Real job?”
“Well, a real job with a real salary.” He laughed like it wasn’t obvious. You hit his chest considering he was mocking you and Steve calmed you down by kissing you softly. He kept his hand on your face and brushed your lips with his thumb. “I know you can’t come back in Hawkins until you finish your studies. And, except for the kids and Robin…and Eddie, I have nothing holding me back there. While here, I have you. And you’re worth everything in the world.”
This felt unreal. You started the day with a boyfriend you barely liked, a life that wasn’t as good as you wanted it to be and a fight with your ex-boyfriend that you still loved. And now you had a future with man, the future you always dreamt to have. You were this close to pinch yourself to make sure you weren’t dreaming. “So, you’re ready to move in here with me?”
“On condition that we decorate this apartment properly.” You nodded while laughing. You could already see the posters he had stolen from the movie store hanging on the wall.
“And that you break up with that blonde dude.”
“Consider it done.” You replied before wrapping your arms around Steve’s neck. “I only love you, Steve Harrington.” You whispered against his lips before kissing him. And letting him show how much loved you back.
follow @softtdaisywords to know when new stories are released 🤍
#steve harrington#steve harrington imagine#steve harrington fluff#Steve Harrington x reader#Steve Harrington x you#steve Harrington x female!reader#steve harrington story#steve harrington x y/n#stranger things#stranger things imagine#stranger things story#stranger things fiction#joe keery#joe keery x reader#joe keery x you#joey keery imagine#joe keery story#my writing
73 notes
·
View notes
Text
Your Letters My Heart
A Steve x Female! Reader angsty love story tehee
Steve had been gone for 4 months now. Y/n didn't know how to feel about it. If she was honest, she missed him. She missed him so much she could barely breathe. She sat most days just staring at their pictures together, the ones she had developed just so she could hang them on her mirror. But at the same time, she felt an unbearable hatred towards him. He had left her here alone, with nothing but memories to hold herself together.
Steve claimed that he was leaving to "protect her". After he was in the upside down, things went... sour. He left Y/n in California and went back to Hawkins to help everyone. The only person she had left was Joyce, who was only here temporarily before going back herself. Then Y/n would be completely alone.
She heard a knock on her bedroom door. She had been staying in El's room since shes been gone. Right now, she was sitting in her chair at the desk and staring out the window. "Hey Sweetie" Joyce said quietly, and she walked over to where Y/n sat and set down a tray of food. "I made you breakfast" She says, and she kneels down beside the chair she's sitting in.
"Feeling any better today?" She asks, and Y/n looks over at her and puts on a small smile "I'm good" She lies, but Joyce takes it. She pats the girl's hand and stands, "Make sure to eat up!" She says, and turns to leave the room.
Right before she closes the door however, Joyce faces Y/n again. "Remember, I'm leaving tomorrow. I know it'll be hard, but you'll be left here alone" Y/n nodded her head, still facing the window and Joyce nodded back before shutting the door and leaving.
She had brought Y/n a plate with tomato soup and grilled cheese. Y/n played with the food for a little, stirring the soup in a circle and picking off the crust from the bread. But ultimately, she couldn't stomach any of it.
Instead, she turned to her bed and curled up, sleeping the rest of the day.
She woke up the next morning to the sound of Joyce knocking on her door. She got up groggily and unlocked it, letting the woman in. "Sorry to wake you so early" She whispered as she followed Y/n back to her bed where they both sat down.
It was still dark out, and when Y/n looked at the clock next to her, she saw that it was only 4am. "I'm about to leave for the airport" Joyce said, and Y/n nodded in response. "I left you some cash on the counter, and the kitchen is stocked up. We'll be back in a couple months Y/n, 3 at most." Y/n nodded again, and Joyce pulled her into a hug. "I'll call you when I get there" and Joyce pulls away from her, waving as she exits her room.
The reason Y/n wasn't going to Hawkins is because she promised Steve she wouldn't. Now you might think after they broke up she would toss this aside, but when Steve asked he was more serious than she had ever seen him. And so she stuck to it. Joyce tried to convince her to go at first, but held her ground.
Y/n couldn't sleep the rest of that night. She tossed and turned until eventually she just gave up. She got out of bed instead and went out to the kitchen where she went to make hot cocoa. She got out a mug and started boiling the water, but when she went to get the cocoa out it wasn't there.
She went through the other cabinets, and when she couldn't find it she decided to look through the house. She didn't know the floor-plan very well, having moved here in a rush after the incident at Hawkins. And she had mostly spent her time here hidden away in her bedroom.
So as she looked for a closet or pantry, she instead found herself in Joyce's room. She was about to turn around and close the door, when something caught her eye. There was a box on Joyce's ground, at first Y/n figured it was simply files from her job. But when she looked closer, they were all addressed to Y/n herself.
She picked one up, and when she looked at the sender... Her heart skipped a beat. She hadn't seen his name in forever, although she thought of him every day. She picked up another letter, then sifted through them all. And sure enough, they were all from Steve.
Why would Joyce hide these? Y/n picked up the box and brought it out of the room back into the living room. She sat down, the box right beside her, and picked out one of the letters.
She broke the seal on the back and pulled out the plain white paper. Steve's messy cursive was scrawled along the page in blue pen, and she smiled with tears in her eyes as she read his words.
Dear Y/n,
I'm not sure you'll want to read these. We didn't leave it off on good terms, I know that. I hope you're able to forgive me. I never wanted to hurt you, I just wanted what was best.
It's going alright down here, or as good as it can when you're fighting Vecna. I miss you.
Love,
Steve.
A tear fell onto the paper, and Y/n quickly wiped it away before opening another one.
Dear Y/n,
I haven't received anything back from you. Maybe it's gotten lost in the mail. Maybe they can't reach me. Or maybe you aren't writing back at all...
Dustin got hurt today. I should've been watching him... I turned my back for one minute. It's just a little cut, on his arm. He had to get 3 stitches. He says he's okay, but I still feel guilty.
I wish you were here, you always make me feel better.
Love,
Steve.
Just as she went to open another one, an alarm went off behind her. "Fuck" She whispered. She got up from the couch and ran to the kitchen where she saw her water boiling over and the smoke alarm blaring.
"Fuck fuck fuck" She swore as she rushed to grab a chair, propping it against the cabinet and standing on it to turn off the alarm. Once she turned it off, she turned around and sat on the seat. She sighed before getting up and cleaning the counter where the water boiled over.
It was enough for her that day, and Y/n tucked away the letters before moving back to her bedroom where she laid down and went back to sleep.
She stayed in bed for the rest of that week. She thought too much about the letters, and since she hasn't been able to will herself to get up. She only got up for food and the bathroom, but as soon as her needs were fulfilled she went back to her sanctuary.
Joyce had called when her plane landed, and they had a quick discussion before she rushed off the phone. She hadn't heard from her since. That is, until today.
Y/n was in the kitchen, grabbing a peanut butter and jelly sandwich before going back to her room. That's when she heard the phone ring. Most people knew the Byers were out of town, so there was almost never a call.
She walked over and pulled the phone off the hook, "Hello?" She said quietly, her voice so hoarse she has to clear it. "Y/n" It was Joyce. "Joyce?" She asked, the surprise apparent in her voice. There was only one reason Joyce would call. "Y/n, there's been an accident..."
She was flown to Hawkins immediately. She only had one bag, having had to pack quickly and when she got to Indiana Joyce was waiting for her. "Y/n" She said solemnly, and all the girl could do was nod in response.
They went to Joyce's car, and despite her protest, Joyce brought Y/n straight to the hospital.
When they arrived, Y/n was shaking so much she could barely walk. Joyce guided her through the halls to the hospital room. When she walked in, she could feel her knees go weak at the sight of Steve in the hospital bed.
He was unconscious, and there were tubes connecting him to machines everywhere. There was bandaging over his head, and Y/n could see a bit of dried blood remaining on his forehead.
She moved over to the chair next to his bed and took his hand in her own, "I'll leave you two alone..." Joyce said, and she closed the door behind her. "Stevie..." Y/n whispered, tears starting to form in her eyes again. "I'm so sorry Steve" and she broke down there, her head falling into his lap as she heaved.
She stayed at the hospital that night. After that Joyce made her go back to the hotel room. However she still came during every visiting hour, and stayed by his side the whole time.
The kids came in occasionally, Dustin the most. They'd sit there together, mostly in silence, and wait for him to wake up.
It was a Tuesday when it happened. It was raining hard outside, and Joyce almost refused to take Y/n to the hospital. But she was there, sitting in the same chair by his bed. Y/n hadn't slept the previous night. Instead she sat up and just stared at the ceiling, making shaped out of the popcorn texture.
"I miss you" she muttered to the boy. "I'm sorry I never wrote you back" she whispered, sitting up and looking at him, he's been gaining color back recently but he's still dependent on the machines to breathe. "Joyce hid the letters... I think she did it to protect me" she continued to talk to him, despite not knowing if he could even hear her but she needed to get it out. "I'm so sorry" she said, tears coming to her eyes, "I shouldn't have let you go, I should've come with..."
She sniffed and continued "I'm not mad at you, I promise. I just want you back" and the tears started falling harder than before as she lowered her head and placed it against their joined hands. She repeated the same phrase over and over "Please come back"
That's when she felt his finger twitch. She jumped at the feeling, and instantly her eyes widened at the prospect of him being awake. "Steve?!" She asked, wiping the tears from her face. She saw as his eyes fluttered, and jumped out of her seat.
"Doctor! I need a doctor!" She said, rushing to the door and opening it, yelling into the hallways. "Please he's awake!" A man in a white coat came rushing down the hallway at her shouts, and when they entered back into the room Steve was trying to sit up.
The doctor went over and took his arm, helping him lay back down. "No need to get up!" He said, and Steve didn't say anything but just laid back down. Y/n stood nervously by the door, her leg shaking as she watched the doctor shine a light in Steve's eyes and check his vitals.
He wrote something down in his notebook, and looked up at where Y/n was standing. "Is he okay?" She asked eagerly, and the doctor walked over to where she stood "He's stable, for now" He said, and Y/n gulped before nodding, "He'll need close monitoring, and rest. I'll let you talk to him for a short minute, but then you'll need to let him rest." Y/n nodded along and let the doctor leave the room, just her and Steve left now.
She rushed to her seat and scooted forward grabbing his hands. "Y/n..." He said, his voice hoarse and small as he looked over at her. "Stevie" She responded, trying to prevent the tears that have formed in her eyes from falling. "You're here" He says, and before Y/n can respond he starts coughing violently.
She moves to help him, but he stops and motions for her to sit back down. "I'm fine" He says, and despite Y/n's instincts she trusts him. "I'm sorry" she mutters, and she bites her lip but the tears fall. Steve however, moves his hand and places it on her face, shushing her. "Shhh sweetheart, you did nothing wrong" and he wipes the tears from her face.
"I'll be fine" He says, consoling the girl. "After all, my hair still looks great" and he moves his hand to slick back the mess that his hair currently was, half of it covered by his bandages. "I hate you" She says, laughing through the tears, and Steve smiles down at her "You know you love me"
The doctor came back then, and Y/n was forced to leave while they put Steve in a drug-induced sleep.
She went back to the Wheeler's house where Joyce, Hopper, and all the kids were waiting. She explained what had happened, and the next day they all went to visit Steve. It was a slow recovery, but the boy got better.
#steve harrington#steve harrington au#steve harrington story#i love steve harrington#steve harrington supremacy#steve harrington is hot#steve harrington stranger things#steve harrington x female reader#steve harrington angst#steve harrington romance#stranger things story#stranger things season 5#stranger things season 4
46 notes
·
View notes
Text
Anniversary 🌹
Steve Harrington x Reader
Summary: y/n and Steve are enjoying their one year anniversary together with a night that Steve has planned.
Contest: fluff blurb
Word count: 1180
Tonight is the night that Steve and I celebrate our one-year anniversary. I feel like we’ve been together so long and yet not long enough at the same time. I always tell Steve that it feels like we’ve been dating for six years and that we act like an old married couple.
This night is important for both of us I think, or at least I hope. Steve said tonight I’m going to be impressed with what he’s done. Which means it’s either going to be really romantic or really chaotic. I’d be okay with both because that’s what I signed up for when I started dating Steve Harrington. I would be lying if I said I wasn’t head over heels for him. I mean I take one glance at him and it’s like I’m falling in love all over again.
This is a big milestone for us. Sure, we’ve had other milestones, but nothing as important as this one. So I do everything I can to make sure this night runs smoothly. Steve won’t tell me the full plan of what’s happening tonight but he has told me that he’s making us dinner. So hopefully he doesn’t burn the kitchen down.
Once I get home from school I start getting ready immediately. I start by putting on this extravagant red dress I bought a week before especially for tonight. I love the way this dress fits me and the way it falls just above my knees. It has a nice ribbon belt like thing around the waist tied altogether with a bow.
I do my makeup, and actually take my time on it. Trying to perfect the way I want to look. I don’t want to go too overboard because I’m not known to wear heavy makeup so I just keep it simple with eyeshadow, mascara, and lipstick.
Lastly I put on my signature scent. Its a lavender honey perfume that I absolutely love. I bought it when Steve and I went to the farmers market last summer.
When I put the finishing touches on my makeup a hear honking outside. I look out my window to find Steve pulling up to the side of the road and waiting for me. It’s 5 o clock already? He sees me in the window and waves with the biggest smile on his face. I slip on my black heels and go out to his car. The burgundy BMW that holds so many memories between us.
“Wow…” he trails off and eyes me up and down. “You look… amazing. I’m at a loss for words… oh! I got these for you!” He hands me a bouquet of red roses.
“Thank you! You look amazing too! Where’d you get this sweater?” I tug at the navy blue sweater he’s wearing and try to take a look at the tag.
“Oh you know, just found it laying around.” He jokes. He starts to pull out off the side of the road and we’re off to his house. In my lap I hold Steve’s gift which he can’t stop side eyeing. I cant tell if that’s a good thing or a bad thing. Either way, I think he’s gonna love it.
He pulls into his driveway and says “welcome to my home.” He says it every time I come over and I think it’s probably one of the cutest things he does.
We get out of his car and walk to his front door hand in hand. Steve proceeds to open the front door for me and leads me to the kitchen table. The table is set up perfectly with a nice red runner, candles, and all the food set out.
“I got most everything done dinner wise. The chicken is still in the oven though. We have roasted potatoes, a Caesar salad, garlic bread, and I was able to manage a nice white wine.” Steve gestures at each item while listing it off and picks up the wine.
“This is perfect, Steve. Thank you.” I give him a quick kiss before he parts to grab the chicken. He sets the chicken perfectly in the center of the table and takes his seat across from mine.
He takes the wine and pours a small amount into each of our glasses and then insists on making a toast.
“To a wonderful first year,” he starts. “And hopefully many more with this lovely lady that is y/n.”
After we eat dinner Steve tells me that he wanted to keep the night simple. That we’re gonna open our gifts and then watch a movie on his couch.
I start by handing him his gift that I set off to the side before dinner started. He starts to unwrap it revealing a box. Inside the box is a personalized mixtape full of the songs that hold importance in our relationship. There’s also a long note in there with some pictures but we’re not gonna get into that.
“Y/n, this is great! Thank you, I absolutely love it! We can pop this bad boy into my car later.” He gives me a kiss and then grabs the gift for me, placing it in my hands.
It’s in a thin rectangular box and I begin to open it. The first thing I can see is the shine it gives off. Opening it fully, I see a beautiful necklace with a butterfly pendant.
“Oh Steve, this is… wow, this is beautiful! I love it a lot!”
“I thought you would. Well I mean my mom kind of helped me pick it out but she thought you would love it.” Steve says awkwardly, not wanting to take credit for the amazing gift.
I pull him close and kiss him to express how perfect this night has been. He pulls away after a minute to announce…
“It’s a movie time! I don’t think you’ll be comfortable in that dress for watching a movie. Feel free to pop into my bedroom and grab a pair of sweatpants and a shirt while I get the movie set up, okay?” I nod in understanding and head up to his room to change quickly. When I come back downstairs Steve has everything and much more set up for the movie.
He has popcorn, candy, sodas, pretzels, and other snacks set out on the coffee table. Steve is sitting on the couch waiting for me. I snuggle in close to him and he sets his arm around me.
“Tonight was the best night I could ever ask for.” I tell him.
“Me too. I thought tonight could have gone south very quickly, but I’m very happy about the way it went.” He kisses my forehead and presses play on the remote.
“This is my ninth sick day this semester. It’s getting pretty tough coming up with new illnesses. If I go for ten, I’m probably gonna have to…”
#stranger things fic#stranger things imagines#stranger things blurb#steve harrington#stranger things 4#steve harrington fic#steve harrington imagine#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x you#steve stranger things#stranger things steve#st4 imagine#steve harrington blurb#steve harrington one shot#joe keery#steve Harrington cute#steve Harrington Story#stranger things one shot#Steve Harrington fanfic#steve Harrington fluff#steve Harrington boyfriend
99 notes
·
View notes
Note
heyyy, how are you?? i love your work so much!!!
i was wondering if you could write something about steve having a crush on r, but when they are together he gest shy and quiet and r misunderstands that and thinks he doesn't like her like everyone is telling her he is ???
im sorry if its confusing, english is not my first language,, anywayy feel free to change anything !!! ❤️
hi baby thank you so much!!! i’m so sorry this has been in my asks since september but i hope u enjoy all the same :,) i finally wrote something!!! yay!!! | 0.7k teeny tiny angst and fluff!!
You’re pretty sure Steve Harrington doesn’t like you. That’s what you tell Robin when you see her at the Family Video counter, alone for once. She bursts out laughing.
“I’m being serious!”
Before Robin responds, Steve walks out of the back room, grinning that grin you wish you didn’t love so much, his hair a little messy, like he didn’t have enough time to style it this morning the way he usually does.
He’s looking at Robin when he says: “what’s so funny?”
“I bet you’d love to know, dingus.” She nods at you and shrugs, “it’s girl stuff.”
It’s only then that he notices you’re there, his eyes flicking over your face quickly, his head ripping in a small nod. You might not have noticed it if you weren’t looking right at him already.
“Oh, right.” He smiles again, tight-lipped this time. “Hey.”
“Hi, Steve.”
“Hey,” he says again.
Yeah, you’re pretty sure Steve Harrington doesn’t like you, because this is what happens whenever you’re around. He goes quiet, awkward, where others have always found him outgoing and kind.
You suppose it only makes things worse when you want him to like you so bad. If only as a friend, even.
“Um, I was just grabbing…” You flounder before picking up a random movie by the front desk, “this.”
“Right,” he scratches the back of his neck as he says it.
Meanwhile Robin’s head is turning to look between the two of you like it’s a tennis match. You widen your eyes at her and she gets the signal, scanning your movie and letting you head out with it when she knows you’ll be returning it before even opening the case.
“You’re such an idiot,” she says to Steve as the door shuts behind you, the bell jingling with your departure.
“Robin-”
“No! You are, Steve. Listen, you know I love you, but she thinks you don’t like her. At all!”
Now, Steve knows that he acts like an absolute dork wherever you’re concerned, but he never wanted you to think that. Never. If anything, he likes you more than he’s ever liked anyone before, and it terrifies him.
Any ounce of the confidence that’s left over from his ‘King Steve’ era seems to evaporate, and the words just don’t come the way they should. But fuck, he didn’t want to hurt you. He’d never want to hurt you.
“Shit,” he runs a hand through his hair, uncaring about how it might look for once.
“Yeah, shit.” Robin nudges her shoulder against his, “she’s still in her car, by the way. Just saying.”
Steve nods, muttering some kind of encouragement for himself under his breath. He pushes his way out the door, picking up his pace to a jog when he hears you start your car.
The knock on your window startles you, surprises you when you look over to find Steve standing out there, the sun a halo around his figure, his Family Video vest just a little crooked.
You shut your car off and roll your window down, squinting up at him, “Steve? Everything okay?”
“I do like you.”
“What?”
His chest is rising and falling quickly, his eyes wide and something like worry looming in them. “I do like you.”
“Steve, did Robin put you up to this? ‘Cause you don’t have to-”
“She didn’t. I promise she didn’t,” he leans down a little, his hands resting on your door. “She told me you thought I didn’t like you and I couldn’t let you leave still thinking that. I like you. A lot.”
You blink up at him, mouth opening and closing, trying to figure out what to say. For so long, you’d been convinced that he wasn’t a fan of yours, and here he is, sincerity written all over his face.
“You never talk to me, I thought-”
“I know. I know and I’m sorry.” Steve hangs his head for a second, inhaling once before looking at you again. “The truth is I, uh, have a crush on you. Probably more than a crush, and I didn’t know what to do with it so I acted like a fucking idiot.”
“You have a crush on me?”
“Yeah, I do. Kind of a big one.”
You can’t fight the smile on your face at that. “I have a crush on you too, Steve.”
It’s the first time you make Steve Harrington blush, the first genuine smile of his that you earn. And it won’t be the last.
#steve harrington#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x you#steve harrington x y/n#steve harrington fic#steve harrington fanfic#steve harrington fanfiction#steve harrington fluff#steve harrington blurb#steve harrington blurbs#steve harrington request#steve harrington requests#steve harrington story#steve harrington imagine#steve harrington imagines#steve harrington oneshot#steve harrington one shot#steve x reader#stevie blurbs#steve harrington stranger things#stranger things#stranger things steve#stranger things fic#stranger things x reader#steve stranger things
652 notes
·
View notes
Note
Secret santa - send in a Christmas themed concept / prompt and a character, and i'll write a short fic for you. (Please specify whether you want the dynamic to be romantic or platonic)
EVA HI, HELLO, I DONT THINK I'VE EVER FORMALLY REQUESTED A FIC FROM YOU!?! BUT BUT BUT, i've been thinking about a steve x reader (romantic) where they're already in a relationship, and maybe he comes over to her place and she's already begun baking christmas cookies and she's lowkey a little bit of a mess but steve just finds it so so endearing and cute and it's just all so domestic fluff!! (i've been listening to new religion by the heydaze if u wanna use that for inspo too!!)
mwah mwah ilyyy <33
EEEEEEEEKKKK YES GIRL
The door was wide open when Steve got there, which worried him as he stepped over the threshold to your place. He could smell it all first, the warm scent of fresh baked goods wafting his way as he called out your name.
"Anybody home?" he shouts out to the warm house, windows flung wide in a similar way to the door.
"In here!" your call comes from the kitchen, Steve following your voice and the smell of cookies as he makes his way through your house. He's used to being here by now, and knows where everything is supposed to be as though he lives here himself. He doesn't, but he wants to.
"woah, that's a lot of flour." Steve's voice makes you turn, and he sees you mixing together what he can only guess to be a batch of cookie dough. Your cheeks are dusted with flour and spices, and your hair has pieces of red and green icing attached to it. It's truly the best thing Steve has ever seen.
"I'm baking." you say so matter-of-factly, as you place down the bowl on the counter, dusting off your hands.
"I can see that." Steve takes a step forward into the kitchen, minding his step as he leans in for a hello kiss. "Getting into the Christmas spirit?" the question has an obvious answer as Steve slides an arm around your waist. He brings a hand up to your cheek to wipe away some of the flour as you nod.
"I'm making Christmas cookies for the party—I thought they'd like it after everything."
"Are you getting any of the ingredients in the bowl?" Steve is grinning ear to ear, "Because it looks like you're decorating yourself more than these cookies."
You slap him lightly on the arm and move away to pick up your bowl again. You're ready to roll the batch of dough out and you turn the container upside down to dump the dough onto a tray. It makes a thumping sound, spraying more flour back up at you in protest. You swat it away with your free hand, eyes half closed.
"Hey, be careful. You don't want to make a mess." Steve says it as a joke, considering the disaster of a kitchen he's standing in right at that moment, and you turn to him with a half smile. You're still squinting, and Steve can only assume you've got something in your eye.
"C'mere," Steve steps up to help you, grabbing a cloth from the counter to wipe your face. You only laugh and try to push him away, but that doesn't stop Steve from wanting to help.
"Just let me get some of the icing out of your hair!" He's almost chasing you round the kitchen, hopelessly following you like a puppy.
"I'm fine, Steve." You've pulled out a large expanse of cookie cutters from a draw, and you heave them up onto the bench like they weigh more than you do.
"I know you're fine, and I love that you've turned yourself into the Pillsbury doughboy but can you just let me help?" He gives you the sweetest look, and he's so genuine that you can't help but nod.
"Fine, but we're not making star shaped cookies. They're not Christmassy enough."
"Understood." Steve can't help the grin that has crept onto his face, and he's so glad to know you. He's also glad that he's the one man with the pleasure of kissing you, so he does. He kisses you softly in the middle of the kitchen, and your lips really do taste like sugar, spice and everything nice.
I hope you like it Amber!
join the celebration here!!
GENERAL TAGLIST: @heliads @candywh0r3 @caplanreadss @hiya-itsamber @s00buwu
STRANGER THINGS TAGLIST: @buckys2thicc @browneyes528
#steve harrington#steve harrington imagines#steve harrington fanfiction#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington fanfic#steve harrington drabbles#steve harrington drabble#steve harrington x femreader#steve harrington x you#steve harrington fluff#steve harrington angst#steve harrington fic#steve harrington one shot#steve harrington oneshot#steve harrington x yn#steve harrington x y/n#steve harrington x reader insert#steve harrington imagine#steve harrington story#stranger things#stranger things fanfic#stranger things fic#stranger things imagine#stranger things x reader#stranger things fanfiction#steve harrington stranger things#steve harrington series#steve harrington season 4#steve harrington headcannons#holiday celebration 🍾
115 notes
·
View notes
Text
Mr and Mrs Mountain: In Conversation with Steve and Jo Harrington
(National Geographic, 1993)
I sit down with the Harringtons on a sunny day in December in the living room of their Boulder Colorado home. They’ve just moved in, and they apologize for the few stray boxes still littering the dark wood floors.
“We’re not used to having all this space,” admits Steve Harrington, going on to describe how he and his wife spent most of the last three years living in sublets, tents, and the errant hostel, jumping from Boulder, where they’ve decided to call home, to various parts of the world for an awe-inspiring roster of expeditions. But their most frequently-visited location is Everest, of course.
“We leave around mid-March and can usually expect to be back in June. It’s become a pretty well-oiled machine by now.” What Harrington is referring to is their expedition outfit, Summit Trek, that has been in business since 1991. It’s 1993 when I sit down with the Harringtons, and they’re confirming their client list for an Everest expedition… in 1996. The next three years have already been all booked up. Why, you ask, does this young yet affable couple have a veritable waitlist to join their outfit? It’s simple, they’ve never lost a single client on any of their ascents, a rare feat for repeat Everest expedition guides.
“We really take a lot of pride in the safety of our trips. There’s more and more outfits every year that are willing to take clients up Everest, but it’s always been the getting back down that’s the tricky part,” says Jo Harrington, sitting on the arm of their worn leather couch, her arm draped loosely over her husband’s shoulders. She carries herself with a great deal more poise than her twenty-six years may allow her, a sort of wry steel to the way she speaks, chin tilted down, daunting and demure at the same time, as if Catherine Hepburn and Clint Eastwood had a lovechild with a particular athletic prowess. She wears her hair in two short braids, flyaways framing sharp eyes and dark brows. In a pair of rumpled khaki cargo pants and a thermal with the patagonia logo stitched into the chest (she has been sponsored by the brand for four years now), there is still a strange elegance to her, carried in quick hand gestures and a permanently rasped voice. First brought into the climbing world’s consciousness at the age of sixteen for taking home gold in the 1983 Climbing National Championships in her age division, Harrington, nee Taylor, would go on to rack up an impressive resume of climbs. She currently has conquered five of the seven continental summits, and still holds the women’s speed record for climbing El Cap.
“I’m going for Steve’s record the next time I get out to Yosemite,” quips Jo while her husband grins up at her. He currently holds the men’s speed record on El Cap.
Indeed, the Harringtons have become darlings of the climbing world, meeting in 1990 on both of their first ascents of Everest, and falling into a whirlwind relationship that would see them going into business together within the year as co-guides of their very own expedition outfit.
“I just wouldn’t leave her alone, basically. Asked her where she was going after Katmandhu and she said Boulder, and I said alright, I’m going to follow this woman wherever she leads me.”
“He was easy to be around. To climb with, to talk with, to suffer with. I knew that I could trust him as my partner from the start.” And that trust Jo speaks to seems to be the secret ingredient to what has made their outfit so successful.
“For an ascent to go as well as it can, there has to be almost seamless communication between guides. There can’t be any doubt that you have each other’s backs, that you’re going to do your job to the best of your ability because that’s the level of care and respect you have for each other,” says Steve, tucking a long brown lock of hair behind his ear. He is the picture of a dirtbag, reformed (his words), with his long hair and single silver hoop in his ear, a perpetual tan to his skin from all the years spent out in the weather, a ruggedly bright smile and dark eyes that crinkle knowingly as he speaks. He plays with the wedding band on his left ring finger, spinning it around as he talks with a quiet confidence. Harrington rose up in the climbing world through a sort of scrappy perseverance, spending his teen years hoofing it around the United States and climbing whatever he could get his hands on as fast as he could. Besides El Cap, he currently holds the speed record for the Moose’s Tooth in Alaska, as well as for Kings Peak in Utah. These days, he’s less interested in speed than he is in altitude.
“There’s no going fast on something like Everest, not if you want to come back down in one piece.” Jo nods at her husband’s words, and it is clear that this couple holds a deep respect for the mountain they summit every year, with a group of nine people that pay them to lead them to the peak. It would seem this respect is also part of what has brought them so much success as expedition guides, with Outside Magazine declaring Summit Trek as the “premier” Everest outfit for climbers who want the best of the best experience on the mountain. The going rate for an individual to join one of their expeditions certainly reflects this reputation. Excluding airfare and personal equipment, it will run you $75,000 to join a Summit Trek expedition. For context, this is almost double what most outfits charge, and $10,000 more than what Adventure Consultants, one of the other more reputable outfits, ask. When asked about this price point, Jo smiles.
“We understand that it’s a steep price we’re asking, but it reflects the quality of the experience we provide. People also have to understand that a good portion of that money is put right back into the business for permits and equipment. You get what you pay for, and when it comes to something like Everest, I’d like to think people are willing to pay more in order to get more out of the experience.” Her argument certainly seems to stand. Currently, with the additional help of infamous climber Eddie Munson as their other co-guide, respected mountaineer Robin Buckley running base camp communication, and climber-turned-physician Nancy Wheeler, the Summit Trek team has successfully taken 27 people to the Everest summit and brought them back down safely, with plans to take another 27 up in the next three years.
I asked the couple, who have now been married for just shy of a year, what it’s been like working together in such a dangerous context. They both seem to find this question amusing, sharing a quick
glance between them before Jo answers the question.
“I know I wouldn’t do this work with anyone else. We’re partners in every sense of the word and I love getting to do this work with my best friend.” Steve rests a hand on her knee, nodding and adding his own thoughts.
“Yes, it’s dangerous, but we’re a particular kind of people that seek out that kind of danger. We get to see and do crazy things together, it’s amazing. I think we’re very lucky to get to do this.”
My last question for the seemingly invincible couple, do they see themselves slowing down any time soon? Jo laughs.
“Well, you can only go up that mountain so many times before it takes its pound of flesh from you. We’re certainly not going to do this forever, and I think we’re definitely starting to think about putting down more roots for the future. But for now, we really love the work we do.”
...
series masterlist
#steve harrington#steve harrington fanfic#steve harrington fluff#steve harrington angst#steve harrington au#steve harrington story#honey baby love you be home soon#is this insane behavior?#yes#blame it on the new wellbutrin prx idk
13 notes
·
View notes
Text
It's fine.
Word count: ~2.8k
Make it work this time, Steve. (part 5)
PLEASE DO NOT COPY.
Steve and y/n tried their best to run as fast as Robin, Eddie and Nancy but due to his injuries and her still having troubles to couch her breath properly, they just couldn't keep on.
"Look, there" Steve said and kneeled down, y/n did the same. They were hiding under fallen tree. Beathing was harder for her with every second, even though she finally have few seconds to cool down. "Hey, hey" Steve said quietly as he looked at her panicked expression. "We are fine. It's fine. I'm sorry for screaming at you. Try to breath normally. Try with me." He grabbed her hand and put it to his chest.
She lifted her head and finally met his gaze. Now, they were starring at each other, with her left hand in his both, bigger hands on his heart, he breathed rhythmically and she tried to copy him. She somehow managed to calm down, even with demobats around.
"I'm sorry." She said quietly. "I'm sorry for all this mess." She added and Steve pulled her closer. He hugged her.
"It's fine, we're fine." He rescued her, his voice was so sure, he almost believed himself too. Soon, bats calmed too, so Nancy, Eddie and Robin appeared from their spot.
"We should go somewhere." Nancy suggested as she looked at them. They all nodded, but when Steve tried to stand up, he groaned in pain. Y/n looked at him, guilt running though her veins. How could she not notice how badly injured he was?
"I'm fine. I'm fine." He said but he was holding his side and his other hand was securing him on tree.
"You're losing blood. Oh my god." She said under her breath. "Come on, sit." And they both did, Steve grunted. He showed her his injures. Robin started panicking but y/n tried to think. She thanked good she decided to wear skirt that day because she had tights. She used her nails to rip it on her thigh and then took this part off. She didn't have shoes anyway. "Can you stand up now?" She asked and helped him.
She looked at his wound and couldn't look away. It looked so awful, she almost felt it on her own skin.
"I'm fine" Steve said, adrenaline was running though his veins and that was probably the only reason why he didn't scream in pain.
His voice made y/n wake up from her trance and she looked at his face.
"I'm just gonna-" She started and didn't even had to end her sentence because Steve nodded at her, understanding what she meant.
"Just do it fast." He said looking down at her.
She started behind him, putting tights close to his back and both her arms landed on his sides. It almost felt as a hug. He groaned when soft material touched his wound, making y/n feel bad. What if she'd make it all worst?
"Sorry." She whispered as she tied up both ends of her, now not wearable, tights. "Too tight?" She asked.
"All good." He answered as he took long, needed breath. "Thanks" He said when she finally looked at his face, instead his wound with all the focus she had. He had observed her the whole time, trying to ignore the fact that her skin was touching his all this time.
"We should go. It's really not the nicest place I had ever been to." Robin suggested, grabbing everyone's attention.
"Well, I'm in, just- where the hell you want to go? Cinema? Fucking School? Even school is better than this place" Eddie said, he was pissed. Or maybe he tried to be, to hide how scarring it all was for him.
"We should get the guns." Nancy suggested.
"Yeah! And then we can blow up those bat things that are guarding the gate." Robin said, already excited.
"Amazing. If we start walking now, maybe we will get to the police station tomorrow. Steve will bleed to death by this time and my legs will fall out of my ass." Eddie commented.
"I have guns" Nancy said, looking at his surprised face. "in my bedroom."
"Well, I guess then, we walking to Nancy Wheeler's bedroom to get guns. plural." He said and started walking. Maybe he didn't know where exactly she lived, but for sure not in a wood. "What the fuck this place is." He mumbled under his breath.
They all looked at him, then at each others and started walking behind him. Soon Nancy went ahead, when the group needed to turn left. Robin and y/n were walking together, Robin was talking about something and y/n was listening. That was keeping them both calmer.
Few feet behind them, were Steve and Eddie. Metal head gave other boy his jeans vest, but otherwise - they didn't talk. It was weird between them, Eddie felt like Steve hated him, Steve felt like he owned Eddie an apology. For jealousy. And for all this thoughts he had about him (even though he didn't know about it).
"So.." He started, thinking that maybe if he speaks it would be less awkward. It wasn't. "Thank you. For saving me."
"Yeah. You saved yourself too, no need to thank me." He answered coldly.
"Hey man, I'm sorry. I was... mean to you." Steve spoke again, when this not too comfortable quietness felt over them.
"Yeah, so mean for no reason." Eddie answered.
"Well actually, you tried to kill me-"
"I had a reason." He explained. "Y/n told me what you did in high school. Not that I wasn't there. I have no idea why she still like you. I guess it's your Henderson charm."
"My Henderson charm?" Steve asked, looking at metalhead next to him with confusion all over his face.
"Don't act stupid, little shrimp worship you. He keep talking about it all the time. Steve this, Steve that. It's getting annoying. At least now he's angry for what you did to this sweet girl that happened to be his sister. Since she act like this Vecna guy suck up her memory" Eddie said, not in his nicest tone.
"Yeah, I get that. She's angry, you're angry, Dustin's angry but-" He wanted to explain like he actually owned Eddie this. He wanted to explain it to the whole world if it would make it up. But it wouldn't.
Eddie stopped, making Steve stop too. He stepped closer to him, so close that Steve could feel his breath on his face. Nothing comfortable.
"But she's not angry. Do you even listening? Sad? Yeah. I have no idea what you did to her lately, Harrington but this is probably your last chance. Little shrimp gonna forgive you. And I have no idea why I'm saying that but you better not fuck it up again otherwise-" He didn't have time to end his sentence when lightning bolts appeared and the earth trembled making all of group fall.
"Second on my list of least favorite things, earthquakes" Robin said beside y/n.
"Y/n" no. no, no, no. "Y/n what are you doing here? Did you decided to join me?" She heard this voice again, looking around. He had to be somewhere there but no. She can't see him.
"Hey. Y/n! Do you hear me?" Steve asked as he shook her shoulders. She was with them again and earthquake seemed to stop. She also noticed Nancy's house right in front of her. They were close. It wouldn't been long 'till they find guns, escape and she would find new mp3 player so she nodded her head.
"Yeah, sorry. I'm here." she added quietly.
"It was Vecna? But he shouldn't- your mp3 player!" Steve yelled as he came to realization. "It got socked when you jumped into the water! God dammit y/n! How could we be so ignorant! It wasn't working the whole time!" He panicked as he touch little life saved attached to y/n's belt. His hands brushed over her stomach but he didn't even realized. She did though.
"Steve calm down, we are almost there. I will be fine." She said, trying to convince him (and maybe herself too).
"Yeah douchebag, we're not gonna get out of there if you start cry and yell at everything." Robin said from behind his back.
"Can we go now?" Nancy asked and when everyone nodded they made their way to the house.
Nancy opened the door, Steve was behind her with flashlight. Y/n wanted to be as close to someone as she could, so it happened that she was following Steve with every little step he took.
Everyone started looking around, it was awful. They weren't surprised when Nancy told them to hurry so she didn't had to look at it anymore. Steve, of course, agreed with her, for other reason though.
Nancy, Robin and Eddie went upstairs but y/n stopped in her truck.
"Hey? you coming?" Steve asked, looking at her worriedly.
"Shh. You hear that?" She put her point finger on her lips to tell him to be quiet.
After that, he expected not to hear anything. His heart almost popped out of his chest because he thought she her clock or something like that again. Last that he expected, was Dustin's voice.
"Is it... your brother?" He asked quietly. She nodded.
"They are in this house. Just on the other side." She explained, thinking about it "Maybe we can connect with them. Somehow."
"Lights." Steve said.
"Wh-" She didn't even had the time to finish her sentence because Steve had already started explaining.
"When Will stuck in upside down he contacted with Joyce though Christmas lights. Maybe we can do the same."
"Yeah, yeah! We need to tell-" Y/n said but again, somebody stopped her.
"Bad news. We are in the past and all our plan can go to fucking hell because those bloody guns don't even exist yet. We are gonna die here. But don't worry Romeo, at least you are here with your Juliet" Eddie said, his words dripping with sarcasm.
"We found a way" Steve said, choosing to ignore Eddie's comment. "Dustin is there. In the right side. We just need to find some lights and contact with him." He explained.
Nancy rushed to the light switch but it didn't work. Or that's what they thought at first. Chandelier started to shine with a bright light, they all went near it and put their hands up. It was even brighter then.
"Tickles." Eddie said quietly.
"Dose anyone know Morse code?" Nancy asked.
"I know only SOS." Eddie answered after Robin, Steve and y/n shook their heads.
"Perfect. Just- give Dustin sight through it. He knows Morse code, right?" Nancy asked y/n and the girl nodded her head.
They gave Eddie some space and he started doing his job.
"Y/n?! Steve?! Eddie?! Robin, Nancy?!" They heard Dustin scream. They smiled happily, getting their hope to get out of there quickly. Eddie tapped the lights few times to let him know that there were actually them. "Holy shit! They are in Upside down!" Dustin said, it sounded as if he said to someone who was with him in the room. "Give us a second. Go to Nancy's room. Near the bed." He said and they didn't question it.
They all sat at the floor, waiting for something that Dustin planned, they didn't had any other option than just trust him.
What they didn't know, was that Dustin, Lucas and Erica just stooled Nancy's little sister toy. By the time they set it up on Nancy's bed, the whole group was already there.
"You guys seeing this?" They heard Dustin smoggy voice. Nancy without hesitation started moving her hand above the bed and shiny sparkles appeared, making everyone gasp in happiness. "We're gonna unplug it!"
Sparkles disappeared but they heard Dustin saying to try it again. After a second of thinking Nancy written little "hi" to see if it working. When they heard Dustin repeated short word they laughed, knowing that they were saved.
Nancy quickly written that they were stuck and there was no way to escape though Watergate because it was guarded.
"We have theory that watergate isn't the only one, there's a gate at every murder site." Dustin explained which got everyone thinking.
"Do you know what he's talking about?" Nancy asked. Looking at y/n and hoping that the girl would understand her own brother.
"Uhhh, Eddie's trailer is seven miles away, but it's still our closest option. There's a gate" Y/n say, with worried expression on her face. It was too long way for Steve with his damages.
"I know your house here is, like, frozen in time but haven't you always had bikes?" Robin suggested, making their faces lights up.
"Yeah! Bikes, of course! Steve, you think you will be able to-" Nancy started, looking at the boy with worry on her face.
"Yeah, I think so." He answered, not even letting her finish her question. There wasn't any time to lose.
They rushed downstairs, then to the garage, where they were hoping to find bikes. And they did. Nancy took hers, Steve took Mrs. Wheeler's, Eddie and y/n somehow managed to both ride Nancy' father' one so Robin was left with much smaller Mike's one.
"This kid is so tall now, I can believe he rode this small shit" She complained as it was hard for her to pedal.
"You okay?" Eddie asked quietly.
"I think so? And you? It's kinda different place. Even darker than your room." She joked.
"Yeah, you definitely fine if you make fun of me." He rolled his eyes.
"Aren't I right, tho?"
"Yeah, alright. I would say it could been worst but if I did, I would have get worst. So I' staying quiet." He said with a shadow of smile on his lips.
Steve looked at them, in fact, he was looking at them every few seconds. Not with jealousy (well maybe a bit) but with worry. Now, that he knew that y/n didn't have her mp3 player his anxiety level raised higher than it ever been.
"Turn left" Eddie screamed and when they did, his trailer appeared next to them.
They jumped off the bikes and when to the door. When they entered, they met with gigant hole in ceiling.
"Goddamn" Steve mumbled, flashing his flashlight onto it.
"This is where Chrissy died. Like, right where she died." Eddie said. Y/n saw in his face a shadow of what happened that night. She lightly squished his shoulder as a little support.
"I think something is in there." They all looked at portal.
It seems like it was beathing, or someone was hitting it from the other site. Suddenly, it broke. Or more like, someone broke it with broom stick.
"Hi there." They could hear Dustin's lough and it was enough for all of them to smile. Y/n was never that happy to see her annoying, younger brother.
Lucas and Max got Eddie's mattress while Dustin and Erica created cord from towels. Then, Dustin thrown it up and it was hanging from both sites of portal. It was safe, they believed.
"Guess I'm guinea pig" Robin said as she was first one to climb. She landed on the mattress with a lough of relieve. "Thank God."
"Alright, y/n next." Steve said as he helped her to climb. When she landed, he wondered if she felt as relieved as he did.
Then went Eddie and while Steve and Nancy still tried to get out of Up-site down, he and y/n looked for his mp3 player in his dirty bedroom. She hoped that at least cassette was working because there was no way that Eddie owned any songs like that. After finding it, under a pile of dirty clothes, y/n put her cassette there, but it wasn't working.
"Cassette doesn't work and I don't have this type of romantic shit there. We need to go." Eddie said as soon as they entered living room. Nancy looked terrified and Steve stood beside her trying to calm her down and get her to talk. "What's going on here?" He asked.
"We really need to go. We will explain later. Come." Steve said, he and Robin helped Nancy, as Eddie and Y/n exchanged confused looks.
It was gonna be a long way home.
a/n. Hi, this part is a little short, even tho it took me really long to write it. I'm sorry to everyone who waited and I'm really grateful you still decided to read it. I have A LOT going on in my life lately so I decided that there will be one more part and that's it. I will post it as soon as possible and I hope it will be satisfying anyway. Love you all xx
#steve harrington fluff#steve harrington imagine#steve stranger things#stranger things#steve harrington#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x y/n#steve harrington x you#steve harrington x fem!reader#steve harrington x henderson!reader#steve harrington imagines#steve harrington series#steve harrington stranger things#steve harrington story
47 notes
·
View notes
Text
“You’re The One That I Want”
SYNOPSIS: You and Steve have been friends since forever. You had feelings for him that you normally kept buried. Little did you know, he had feelings for you too. Steve and you have a movie night and watch your favorite movie. You decide to be like our girl Sandy, break out of that shell. There is sexual tension. A little fluff piece. YOU are the girl. Original story, please enjoy!! 😁
Time, 8 o’clock in the evening. It was Friday and to your surprise, your best guy friend Steve didn’t have a date. That didn’t bother you the slightest. Instead you offered to have a movie night in your basement like when you had when you were freshmen. Popcorn, fresh and oozing with butter. Nice cold bottles of Coke. When he got to your house, he asked what movies you got. You were excited to show him, the movie of choice.
“We are watching Grease!” Gleefully showing him the tape in your hand. He rolled his eyes and laughed. “Haven’t we seen that too many times already?” Steve held the tape in his hand and lifted his arm higher. Making you jump for it while he teased you. “You’re an ass.” You laughed finally grabbing the video from his hand.
Downstairs, while sitting on the couch, you moved closer to Steve. Shoulders touching. The scent of his cologne wafted through your nose. It was mixed in with the scent of Old Spice. You smiled to yourself knowing how he always put extra on when he was nervous. That is when it hit you, why was Steve nervous? He was only ever nervous when there was a big game or test at school, or when he liked a girl. When he really likes them. You wondered if Steve maybe liked you. It crossed your mind on several occasions before. Simply because you liked him. It was hard not to, he was funny and handsome. Smart when he wanted to be. But it was how he treated you. He never once was rude and always listened when you’d talk. Tease you playfully, but still Al’s if you were okay. He was… Steve.
When the scene of the school carnival started playing and Sandy came into scene dressed in the skin tight leather and her hair curled, teased to perfection. Cigarette between the ruby red lips. You seen Steve’s eyes widen as he watched. “Man, Sandy is a babe.”
“Hmm I guess.” You shrugged watching the movie. “What do you like about her?”
“Some would say she changed for Danny. But if you think about it, she changed for herself too. Being more open to new things. Breaking out of her shell. Plus those leather pants? Wow.” Steve expressed himself. Rolling your eyes and laughing, you throw popcorn playfully at him. He then reached over and started tickling your sides leaving you to throw your arms in the air. Popcorn bowl falling from your lap and spilling the buttery snack to the floor. He began tickling you more, you falling back on the couch.
Laying there on your back laughing from the tickling. Steve climbs on top of you, straddling you at the hips. He held your hands above your head on the couch cushion. Steve knew that when he tickled you, you’d try to tickle back. You felt his hands wrapped around your wrists. They weren’t tightly wrapped but you thought about how you wouldn’t mind if he squeezed a little. You looked into Steve’s eyes as he looked down to you. Steve loosened his straddle and leaned down closer to you. Your faces centimeters apart. You could feel his breath move across your lips, making them part in thirst. For a split second you lost control of your thoughts and lifted your head a little more. Your lips cascading across his as you kissed him. Steve started to kiss back, letting your tongue slip in to meet his. Both of you letting pent up feelings leave your bodies. He left go of your wrists, his hands leading down the sides of your body lightly grasping you at the hips. You propped yourself up where you laid, using your elbows. You never breaking stride. However Steve pulled apart his lips from yours. You felt his soft stare linger on your lips before looking into your eyes.
“(Y/N), I uh… I have been kinda wanting to do that for some time.” Steve whispered, kissing you softly. You bit his bottom lip and grinned at him. “Tell me about it, Steve.”
#stranger things#steve harrington#steve harrington x original female character#steve harrington x you#steve harrington x y/n#stranger things fanfiction#steve x reader#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington story#joe keery
68 notes
·
View notes
Text
Sometimes Goodbye is a Second Chance - Steve Harrington x Y/n
Sometimes Goodbye is a Second Chance - Steve Harrington x Y/n
Summary: After a cold breakup with Steve Harrington, y/n vows not to love again. One long long road trip across the US later, y/n returns to Hawkin’s to not only see the people she left behind, but to find out why everything had happened once and for all.
“I think we should break up,” Steve yelled out, causing both of them to freeze in their tracks. Steve stood on the patio, shocked at the words that had come out of his mouth. Y/n stood near the sliding glass door to his backyard, mouth open, eyes filled with tears.
“What the fuck Steve?” She asked, confused on how an argument about him forgetting to pick her up this afternoon had gone so wrong. Steve wanted to take the words back, but at the same time he knew it was too late. All the two of them had done this entire week was argue. That wasn’t to say they didn’t love each other, because Steve would risk his life for her. He had done it before, jumping into Lover’s Lake before she could first. He knew she would do the same. Y/n had when he was pulled back into the water, not even taking off her shoes before jumping in. They had planned a future together, one of six little nuggets and summer trips. Dreams of graduating, of getting married, of growing old, and now they were all being shattered.
“I think we should break up,” he spoke quieter this time, looking from the ground to her eyes. His eyes weren’t shining like they usually did. They were full, filled with pain and pleading, as if to say yell at me, call me a liar, hold me and tell me we can get through this.
“Wow,” Y/n said, shaking her head and wiping away the tears that fell. She felt numb. Her whole world, her future was crumbling and she knew she couldn’t do anything to change that. “Alright, then.” Steve tried to take her in before she would inevitably leave. She stood in a short green dress, one that was his favorite. The soft summer breeze caused the skirt of it to gently pull to the left. The converse he had bought her in return for ruining her shoes at Lover’s Lake were on her feet. He remembered her refusal to let him buy her the shoes, claiming he would have jumped in for her too. He hadn’t cared, and had bought them anyway, presenting them to her the next day. Her hair was down, her face wet with tears. Y/n turned around silently, not even bothering to say goodbye. Steve stood in his spot, listening to her walk through his house. He heard his front door open and be softly shut. He wished she had slammed it, had screamed at him. It would make him feel better, but she hadn’t. Steve sat on the edge of his pool, jeans pulled up, feet bare. He cried by the edge of the water for hours before finally giving in and calling Robin. Robin called him an idiot, but she didn’t hesitate to rush to his house, gently hugging him as he cried into her shoulder.
While Steve spent the next day sadly putting her stuff in a box, Y/n sat in the car in her garage. It was a rusted red Ford Cortina her father had given her. The AC was newly fixed, a project her and Steve had taken on together. They planned to paint it and fix it up and go on a road trip by the end of summer. Another dream crushed, and all she wanted to do was take a baseball bat to her car. Instead of doing just that, she grabbed the money she had stored on her closet. Money from countless birthdays, holidays, chores, money from her paycheck at family video, and she walked four miles to the auto shop, eyes puffy from her night of crying. When she left the auto shop, she walked away with a used Vulcan 750, a black motorcycle she had seen every time she went to the store. She rode it back to her house, thankful for one of her exes back in high school. As soon as she got home, she threw a few things into a duffel bag (her favorite outfit and a toothbrush with toothpaste), and grabbed her cassette player and headphones.
She wrote a note to her dad, explaining she was going on a road trip and would call him. Putting the rest of her money into a wallet, she threw on jeans, a t-shirt, and windbreaker. Then, she took off, leaving Hawkins on her new bike. She didn’t bother driving past Steve’s house, even though she wanted to. As she hit the highway, blowing past the ‘Thanks for stopping by!’ Hawkins sign, relief flooded through her body. As she drove on, she thought about everything with Steve. Her heart hurt so bad. It was like someone had ripped into her chest. She missed Steve already, wishing he was driving the bike and she was holding on to his torso, grinning. Pushing that memory from her mind, Y/n decided to swear off boys. She didn’t know if she would feel that way forever, but she sure as hell knew that this road trip wouldn’t end with any relationships (maybe some hookups if she could bear it). She turned the radio up on the bike, breathing in the warm summer air as her hair whipped behind her. It was time to start over.
Four months later, October seventh.
Steve groaned, dejectedly resting his head on top of his homework. Robin huffed annoyed as the library table creaked at Steve’s weight. “Can you focus? We aren’t ever going to get this done if you don’t listen,” Robin complained.
“We’ve been focused the last hour and we haven’t gotten anything done,” Steve argued, raising his head off the table to glare at her. They were two months into their first semester at Hawkins University and were having some extreme trouble with their calculus homework. “I don’t understand why I have to know calculus to be able to teach kids about the ABCs. It’s not like first graders are gonna be even learning fractions at that age!” Steve had finally decided what he wanted to do, which was teach elementary schoolers. Robin on the other hand wanted to be something that involved animals, perhaps a scientist or a veterinarian.
“I don’t know dingus, maybe because you have to be smarter than them to teach them?” They exchanged glares before Steve sighed.
“Let’s just get this over with. Class starts in an hour,” he gestured to the array of papers and textbooks on their table. They continued attempting the work, Robin trying to explain how to find limits on graphs or something.
“And this is the library, open until 10 on weekdays and twelve on weekends. We open every morning at 6,” the librarian explained, Y/n standing behind her taking in the library. Robin looked up to investigate, her mouth dropping open as she met eyes with her. As Robin got up, she tripped over the chair but caught herself. Steve looked up, finally looking to where Robin was now running to. His heart stopped as he saw her, arms open to receive Robin’s hug.
“Y/n! When did you get back?” Robin asked, pulling away from the hug to look at the girl. Y/n smiled, shrugging.
“Two days ago. I managed to get a late enrollment here so I came for the tour,” she smiled, pulling her jeans up. She turned to the librarian. “Thank you so much for the tour, if it’s alright could I catch up with some friends?” The librarian nodded, walking back towards her desk.
“You should come sit with-” Robin stopped, biting her lip. Y/n looked over to where Robin had come from, her eyes meeting with the one and only Steve Harrington’s. She quickly averted her eyes back to Robin, pulling a tight lipped smile.
“I should probably go. I have to stop by the office for my schedule,” she deterred, hoping to leave before she had to have an awkward conversation with Steve. Meanwhile, Steve thought the opposite. He was working up the courage to talk to Y/n, something he hadn’t been able to do since she left the day after they broke up. When he had brought her stuff to her house, her dad had answered, telling him she would be away for a while. Steve had been worried since then but he hadn’t been able to get a hold of her. Robin and Y/n hugged again, agreeing to call each other. As Y/n left through the doors and Robin sat down again next to him, raising her eyebrows at Steve’s forlorn face.
“Earth to Steve. What’s wrong with you?” she asked, waving her hand in front of his face. He broke out of whatever trance he was under.
“I- oh. Nothing,” he shook his head.
“Steve.”
“Robin, I’m fine.”
“Do you still have feelings for her?” Robin asked abruptly. Steve turned to her quickly, putting his hand over her mouth.
“Don’t shout that out,” he winced.
“Oh. My. God.” Robin whispered as he lowered his hand. “You still love her?” Steve rolled his eyes, not bothering to nod as he met Robin’s eyes. They stared at each other for a moment before Robin flicked him in the forehead, hard.
“Hey! That hurt!” Steve whined, glaring at her.
“What the hell, Steve? Why did you even break up with her then?” Robin knew that the two of them had broken up, but she never tried to pry and see why. She talked to Y/n every few days but it had never been about Steve.
“Because she was too good for me,” Steve blurted out, eyes widening like they had when he had blurted out that he wanted to break up. Robin’s faced softened as she put a hand over Steve’s. “I felt like my dreams were suffocating her, like she couldn’t be her own person. We had been fighting so much and I thought she was going to break up with me and so it just came out.” Steve’s eyes bore a look of pain. “I wanted to end it before she had the chance, Rob.” Robin sighed.
“Do you still want to be with her?” Robin asked cautiously after a few seconds. Steve averted his eyes, looking past the table at the floor.
“Of course. I think about her every damn day Robin. But hell, she left Hawkins when we broke up. I doubt she could ever want to be with me,” Steve muttered. Robin didn’t say it out loud, but when she saw Y/n notice Steve, she had smiled at first. She hadn’t bore a look of hate. It was one of longing, of pain, of love. If Y/n was really over Steve would she have run away so fast? Robin sighed, confused on how to help her best friends. “Can we finish the homework later, Robin? I wanna go home,” Steve sighed.
“Yeah, sure Steve. You still owe me a ride though,” Robin grinned, stuffing her papers into her bag. She waited by the door for Steve, and then they raced out to the parking lot where it was now pouring rain, giggling as the hopped into Steve’s car. Robin did her best to distract Steve as he drove her back to her house. They listened to ‘Never Ending Story’ multiple times, trying to recreate Dustin and Suzie’s parts. They finally reached Robin’s house, where she yelled goodbye as she ran up her driveway, almost slipping on the wet pavement. Steve drove the rest of the way home, driving slow as the rain poured down even harder. He peeled off his wet clothes as soon as he got home, changing into only a pair of sweatpants and socks as he towel-dried his hair. He was in the midst of deciding what to eat for his dinner when he jumped as his doorbell rang. He glanced over to the clock, it was almost 8 PM but it was fully dark outside and he could still hear the pouring rain. Steve placed his TV dinner back in the freezer and walked toward the door.
“Hello?” He asked as the door swung open. There she was, her t-shirt and jeans drenched, her hair clinging wetly to her face. “Y/n? What are yo-”
“Why did you do it Steve?” Y/n asked, yelling over the roar of the sky.
“You should come in, I-, your soaked, Y/n,” Steve gestured to the door, but she took a step back.
“Why did you break up with me Steve?!” Y/n shouted, voice cracking as she asked the question she’d had on her mind for the last four months. Steve stepped out of the threshold, getting soaked in an instant.
“Y/n,” he spoke softly, his hand grabbing hers. She ripped it away, tears falling down her numb face.
“I should leave,” she said, shaking her head as she spun around. Steve stood there panicking as she walked toward that damned motorcycle.
“No! I- I painted your car!” Steve yelled, and she turned around when she heard the pleading in his voice. The confused look on her face relieved Steve as he tried to find the words. “I painted it dark green like we talked about. I had it cleaned and everything. It’s just how yo- we dreamed.” They stared at each other, tears falling from both faces.
“Why, Steve? Why did you break up with me? Why did you paint the car? Why didn’t you come after me when I left? Why? Goddamnit, Steve.” Steve finally spewed out his explanation, needing to get everything off of his chest.
“You were too good for me,” his voice cracked as a sob escaped his throat. “My dreams were too much, I was forcing them on you.” He covered his face with his hands. “That week has been so rough, all the arguing over little things. I thought you were gonna break up with me and I got scared. I knew it would break me to pieces, so I did it- I did it first,” Steve rambled. “And when you left I thought you would hate me. Your dad was only able to get calls from you so he couldn’t give me your number. And that car. That car was all I had left from us, so I fixed it. I fixed it so I could imagine that one day we could go on a summer trip, our family. I did it because I loved you, because I loved us, because I wanted us and you and a future. I still do, god, I still want you so bad Y/n it hurts. I love you Y/n. Jesus I love you so much.” Steve covered his eyes, not wanting to see her response to his declaration of love. He felt like he had ruined everything again. He let tears fall, the rain pelting hard on his bare shoulders as he waited to hear something. He expected to hear her run, to hop on her motorcycle and never return this time. Instead, all he heard was the rain pouring, thunder overhead drowning out everything. Then he heard a soft whisper, almost like the wind taunting him. Except it wasn’t because it was Y/n’s voice, and it came from her mouth.
“I love you too.” Then their bodes slammed together. Neither of them were sure who had closed the distance, but all they could do was feel each other. Steve wrapped his arms around her, and she did the same to his neck, one hand in his hair. Steve had one hand on her face, the other pulling her flush against his bare chest. Their lips explored each others, and four months of passion flowed through every touch shared. Their skin was on fire, burning with need. Y/n pulled back from the dizzying kiss, trying to catch her breath as they leaned against each others foreheads. “They were always our dreams, Steve. I want them as much as you do. And never ever say you’re not enough, because you will always be much much more than enough for me.” Their lips met again as they stumbled to Steve’s front door, slamming it behind them. They kissed their way up the steps, wet clothes being stripped hurriedly in the hallway and on Steve’s floor as they explored the bodies they had been missing. They spent the night together in Steve’s bed, speaking and doing the most unholy things throughout the storm. When they woke up in the morning, together for the first time in four months, they kissed, trying to make up all of the ‘I love you’s and sweet nothings they had missed.
Sometimes, goodbye is a second chance.
#steve harrington#steve harrington x y/n#steve harrington fluff#steve harrington story#steve fucking harrington#romance#writing#hopeless romantic#second chance romance#second chance#first love#stranger things#robin buckley#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x you#steve harrington fic#fic#fiction#fanfic#stranger things fanfiction
36 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
afurst
Who's on Furst
bwanadevilart
BwanaDevil Art
partition-pizza-shaped-p-fy
Charter satya group along eke ace group
dont-mess-w-me-i-will-cry
Please
funkiar
Funkiar