I Want A Romance Like That 😭😭😭😭 Sending This To My Boyfriend So He Can Learn How To Talk

I loved it with all my heart! I have a long-distance relationship and sometimes things get really hard to deal with. I love how you wrote the angst and they meeting again and Steve crying because y/n was there with him... Omg, that was amazing!

😍❤️

Hearts on the Telephone Line | Steve Harrington

》 PAIRING: steve harrington x female!reader

》 TROPE/GENRE: established relationship; hurt/comfort; mild angst; fluff

》 REQUESTED: yes by @sheisjoeschateau​ !

》 SUMMARY: You thought Steve was okay dealing with a long-distance relationship after you moved for an exciting internship in New York. But you were proven so wrong when your boyfriend finally poured his feelings over the phone. Because distance wasn’t making his heart grow fonder, it was breaking it.

》 WARNINGS: slight canon divergence (everyone’s okay, alive & they won bc i said so), shitty internship, this thing called adulting, annoying roommate/cousin, pet names (baby, sweetheart, my love), sad!steve :( & soft!steve <3, lot’s of ‘missing you’ angst, separation anxiety (kinda?), mentions of: nightmares & near death experiences in the upside down; so. much. crying (both happy and…not so much), fluffy ending.

》 WORD COUNT: 8k+

A/N: hello hello! another steve fic hah i’m in too deep. this is also another supposed blurb turned into a whole long ass one shot bc it’s me, hi 😭 but anyways, i hope you guys enjoy this one!

📍 BLOG NAVIGATION ✩ STEVE HARRINGTON MASTERLIST ✩ MAIN MASTERLIST ✩  

⊱ ─────.⋅♚ *｡･ﾟ.★. *｡･ﾟ✫*.

You deeply sighed in relief as you closed the apartment door, pressing your back against it with a soft thud.

To say you were tired was an understatement.

Running countless errands—personal ones, to be specific—for your boss was a task and a half all on its own. Now, doing it in your ’office uniform’ that wasn’t of your choosing, one that consisted of an itchy, frilly, long-sleeved blouse tucked into an uncomfortable, pleated, long skirt and some kitten heels?

It felt like you’d just gone through hell and back.

Continuar lendo

A rainha dos Smaus (@slyscoutess ) me seguiu 😭😭😭😭 É por culpa dela que viciei em ler smau e agora tô lendo coisa de F1 sem entender nada 😭😭😭😭

i hope endgame!steve feels like a real loser when he realizes that all his friends are out here being smokin hot bitches without him

At six o'clock Steve stares at you from the misted window as you untie the ribbon on your apron, take it off and disappear into the back of the shop. He knows you're tired and you just want to go home. He knows it, because it's the first thing you always said to him after the shift, in another life: before Vecna, before the war, before you forgot about him forever. 

I didn't expect it. Omg. You shattered my heart from this paragraph onwards. 😭😭

And the ending 😭🤌

Remember Me- Steve Harrington

Summary: Every morning Steve shows up at the coffee shop you work in and every morning you hope is the one where the cute stranger will finally talk to you. But it never happens and maybe you don't really need it. Yet, while you wait at the tables with a smile, you can't help but wonder why you feel like you've known him all your life.

Words count: 3.8k

Tags: Fluff and Angst. Post-season4 Steve Harrington / Post War/ Mentions of major character death.

Y/n smells like coffee and lemons. A strange mix that Steve still doesn't know whether its good or not. You move around the shop with a circumstantial smile on your face, a tray in your hands and a green apron used as an impassable wall against the rest of the world, your armor.

Yet you can't take your eyes off that customer, who oders American coffee every morning and sit at the table furthest from people. Sometimes he brings a curly-haired boy with him, other times there's a beautiful girl with big blue eyes - perhaps his girlfriend, perhaps a friend - and with them he smiles slightly more. But he is often alone and clarly wants to be.

You're sorry for that. You don't even know why, you have so much else to think about. You moved in the USA just a few years ago, from your  country you ended up in the middle of nowhere, in Indiana, and when you  arrived you discovered that this place is not as safe and boring as you believed. Strange deaths, accidents, earthquakes, natural disasters like it has been cursed and to be honest you have the feeling of having lost a good part of the time spent here. Now, apart from the fact that this place sucks, you should think about having fun, hanging out with boys, trying to make friends like your aunt says, but you don't. You go home at night and think of a sad stranger and you don't want to, you really don't want to but you do. Silly girl.

"What can I get you sir?" you ask, like every day. When he's alone he usually doesn't reply, he mumbles something under his mouth, looks into your eyes and points his finger at his choice. The menu next to the paper napkins is his voice and you like to listen to it.

"I'll bring it to you right away." There are no smiles between you, even if you would like to. Sometimes you've found yourself wanting a simple "thank you" said properly, not half-mouthed or in a whisper. Yet there's kindness even in the way he moves, the way he isolates himself and it's something you can't explain.

When you place the coffee on the table – a breath away from his fingers – he usually just looks at you. His are not eyes to remain indifferent to. It's not the color that makes them  so special, they're big and dark, but it's their depth, the way they seem to be a portal to that boy's soul, the way they peer into you and seem to contain not a shred of malice and seen too much. They look like a child's eyes, actually. They have something pure, sincere, tremendously tender and at the same time they contain the gaze of a veteran and they defeat you. He looks at you and you are chained. But that's okay, you wouldn't have tried to resist anyway.

He looks at you with something that reminds you of sweetness, hints at a half smile - the first - and this alone is enough to burn you inside,  even if it's snowing outside.

The boy doesn't like snow, he's always in a bad mood when it snows. One day you overheard him talking about it with his friend Dustin, Dexter, something like that. 

"Everytime I fear he is coming back"

"He can't, you know it . We made sure it can't happen again"

"Yes, but at what coast?" and his voice had broken in a yearning way, on the last syllable, like a raging river that you thought you would see burst. When you turned to look at him not a single emotion had appeared on his face. You would like to know what happened to him.

Everyday you look away from him when you realize you've spent too much time staring at him and walk away, ignoring the abandoned baconnotes on the table, silent like him. You feel stupid, a high school girl staring at the mysterious lonely boy. It's ironic and you don't know it yet, but there was a time Steve Harrington was the opposite of mysterious and lonely.

This morning it's different and you don't run away. You linger a moment too long on the marks that can be glimpsed from his shirt, scars on his neck that seem to continue under the fabric of his shirt for who knows how long. You've already noticed some small signs, but usually he's very careful to cover them. Today they are redder and more visible. You notice more scars, these never seen before, on his arms and you realize only now that he has cut his hair and when he moves them you notice and old wound on the left side of his face. 

If he wasn't around your age you'd really think he's a war veteran. You wonder what he must have been through and you don't notice his hand extended towards the cup, which meets yours. For the first time, you feel the contact with his skin, a silent echo of an unexpressed desire. You know nothing about him, barely his name. "Steve" You've heard from his friends. You know nothing of his life; still for an instant you dream of being part of it with all the monsters he must have fought to hurt himself like this. You talk with your eyes for as long as you stay close: you with a silent voice full of questions, he with a single answer. And it's always the same.

To each request, he reacts by moving his fingers, running along your palm and thumb, making red-hot marks that only you can see. You feel them, like burns on your skin, as if you are no longer in the cafeteria, surrounded by people, but in a private place, where every gesture, every touch acquires meaning. And there's no need for him to say anything, you know that today he wanted you to see his scars, he wanted to understand how you would react, he wanted you to see him for real. And you do it, you really see him, and you don't get scared. You never could. You don't know why. 

«Y/n please, could you bring me more coffee?»Another guy asks. He is just another is a customer, an ordinary, common one. Not like him. Just a guy who shows up often, asking you for coffee and smiles. And you're willing to give it to him, you're willing to pretend with the others but not with Steve, with him you only smile when you really want to and it's absurd that in his presence this happens more or less always. 

"Sure! " Breaking contact  with Steve seems more tiring than studying for the last exam, more painful than finding out you didn't pass it. You feel yourself blush as you bow your head and flutter your eyelashes, tucking the tray under your arm. Sorry, you say in one last look, ready to leave him. But he grabs your wrist with the delicacy that distinguishes him, making you turn around again. Blush again.

"I'm Steve." I know, you would like to answer however you avoid doing that. It's the first time you can hear his voice right, with words articulated slowly, fearlessly, spoken for you and you alone .

«Y/n.»

Steve runs his thumb along the inside of the wrist before letting you go, in an almost automatic gesture that he seems to regret immediately. A Last, anxious caress, which reveals what his eyes have always hidden.

"I know"

These words are the most exciting thing you've heard in a while. Suddenly you understand why Steve comes in every day, stealing a look and a few minutes of your life. Or so you believe. You feel a shiver running down your back, turning into a burning caress - the one you would like from him - and going up your spine, up to your ears. It's hope. 

You don't know how or why, you feel as if you already know him, as if in another life your skin has touched nothing but his, and you don't even believe in these things. Maybe he feels the same, the same overwhelming nostalgia for something you haven't even experienced. You hope you're right, you hope he comes here every day  just to see you, to search for a contact that happened by chance - by mistake - and to show you his tormented gaze of him, looking for the peace that he has lost in you. 

«I'll bring you some coffee» You say to another customer, looking at him without seeing him.

I have to talk to Steve. I can't let him go. Not like that. You hurry to get the hot container of coffee and reach the customer's table, dedicating a smile and a moment of your life to him. A moment that he could have, or should have, dedicated to someone else.  "Are you on duty again tonight?" You almost don't hear the question, taken as you are from another table, another customer, one different from the others. Your mind is only on Steve. "Yes," you say, glancing at Steve to make sure he's still there. He is. You suddenly feel calmer. "But only until six."

"It's already dark at six" the boy observes. "I could take you home..."

"There's really no need to, thanks." You walk up to the counter to put the container away. You hear the doorbell ring, and feel the brutal urge to turn around. 

Steve's table is now empty.

*

At six o'clock Steve stares at you from the misted window as you untie the ribbon on your apron, take it off and disappear into the back of the shop. He knows you're tired and you just want to go home. He knows it, because it's the first thing you always said to him after the shift, in another life: before Vecna, before the war, before you forgot about him forever. 

You put on your coat, gloves and wool cap, and say goodbye to your colleague. "See you tomorrow." You pull the scarf up on your chin as you open the door.  

After the war with Vecna and the disappearance of the Upside Down, even the climate has changed. The ice covers the streets, leaving just two gray trails to show the asphalt. There are very few cars parked outside the cafeteria, a badly parked red BMW stands out, it's the only one not covered in snow. Steve smiles seeing you, he holds back from calling you, enjoying the image: a colored spot in the whiteness of winter. You puff. It's cold, and you have to walk home, your high boots sinking into the white blanket, the houses still to be rebuilt across the street are the only sign of the drama Hawkins has experienced. An earthquake so strong that it has destroyed everything. You have been hurt, a head injury big enough to steal a piece of your life. A piece so important that you're only retrieving the fragments of your life here, tales of your aunt, your friends, which for some reason never seem to fit right together 

"Hey." A male voice calls you. You keep moving forward. It is not the first time that some stranger tries to approach you .

«Y/n.» You turn around, you see him and suddenly the snow and the cold disappear and the world is a warm and beautiful place. Steve. "Hello, y/n." You take a step towards him and stop, as if you've dared too much. "What are you doing out here?"

 With this wheater. You think you know the answer. And you hope to hear it from him.

"I'm here for you" Would be the sweetest music. But Steve shrugs, makes an embarrassed noise, pulling his jacket around him. You seem to notice a redness on his cheeck, you wonder if it's not just the cold. "What does it mean?" You ask, letting out a smile, tossing your tied hair. Steve's eyes catch yours, in a silent response that seems to be enough for you. For a moment everything is as before for Steve, you are only you and he is only him and in your eyes he finds the girl he fell in love with during a war that you shouldn't have had to fight. 

You arrived like lightning a year ago alongside the only friend you managed to make in the city at that time: Eddie Munson, and you were the first -together with Dustin- to try to prove his innocence, with all that this entailed: including demobats, Upside Down and Vecna. Now you don't remember anything, and maybe a little part of Steve is happy you don't have to carry the trauma with you, but you don't remember the good things either. You don't remember Eddie. When you look at his old posters or find his photos on the newspapers, to you he is just the killer who terrorized the city and you don't mourn his death. But you did it, you did it until you lost your breath, screaming at the top of your throat in the middle of the darkest night. Steve had to drag you from his  body by force, against your punches and kicks. You melted into his embrace, you vented the pain with such force that he feared your bones might break from the powerful sobs that shook you. Steve lulled you into a tormented sleep and watched over you. And then there was Max. The list of fallen soldiers got longer. Murray.Hopper, again. Will.

And Robin, oh, Rob. 

You were the only thing keeping Steve alive after that. When his best friend fell into his arms, Steve wanted to die and for a moment he stood still, ready to let himself be taken by the same cursed monster that stole Robin from him. But you were there and you needed him, he had to keep you alive. He had to think about Dustin.

Then he lost you too. In a different, unexpected way. When Vecna took you, he thought you were going to die, because the music wasn't playing and you were floating in the air and he, he looked away, like a coward, he gave up. He decided he didn't want to see you die, not like that. He regrets it every day. All he did was prepare to grab your lifeless body, imagining that he would be the next one to die. He couldn't live in a world without Robin.

 But in a world without Robin where he didn't even have you, it was torture, hell. The world was shaking again and the earth was cracking  and Steve desperately wanted to die. But you fell into his arms still alive and breathing and Eleven had killed Vecna and all you had were broken bones and a head injury from the pressure exerted by that monster. Steve didn't know it at the time, but you also had a brain injury, something strong enough to erase everything from the last three years. Everyithing about him. Your family, despite being aware of the situation, has decided not to tell you anything, to keep you away from them, from Steve.

 After all if it wasn't for them you wouldn't have been involved. Also Steve promised to protect you and he didn't. He had failed you , as he did with Robin.

Dustin has kept him alive, keeping him company in the months of solitude spent locked up in his house. Nance forced him to eat every day and Erica, Erica remained silent next to him for hours and that was enough at least for a while. Then, at a certain point, Steve saw you from the shop windows, you were working, smiling. 

And it wasn't enough anymore.

The sky is black, the streetlights barely lit up the street, yet you can understand more about Steve right now, looking at his face wrapped in half-light, than you ever guessed during these endless mornings. «Y/n» your colleague opens the door, investing you with warmth and light, so much so that you lower your eyelids.

"Sorry... I saw you out here. I just wanted to let you know that I'll come early tomorrow so you can go home early." You nod as the door closes. When you turn to Steve, you find him closer than when you last looked at him. You see his breath condense between you and join yours. Heat mingling with heat, and desire meeting desire. Steve nods at the BMW.

"I... I didn't mean to scare you, I just... I can take you home if you want." 

There is a fire inside you, even if you can't explain why. You should be scared of an unknown guy who comes to your workplace every morning and now silently approaches you to offer you a ride home on a dark winter afternoon, but the truth is that Steve makes you feel so many things and fear it's not one of them. You think that this is his car, that the car says so much about people, that you want to see what he keeps inside it, the objects that are important to him. There is probably his scent inside it. 

Steve smells good, clean.You know, you just don't know why.  "That is fine." 

"Steve, can I... Can I ask you a question?" You ask after a few steps in silence. He nods, keeps walking, his arm against yours looking for even the slightest contact. He needs it, or else he'll sink. He needs it to keep himself on his feet when dark comes and in the streets he sees the faces of his dead appear. When your bodies touch, over layers of fabric, you feel your skin melt and you wonder if maybe you're crazy. "Why me?"It's a strange question, you know, you're a little ashamed of it, and you're afraid of scaring him but you feel, somewhere inside you, that maybe he has the answer you were looking for, the missing piece in your story. Or maybe it's just an illusion. He turns around, his gaze softens and he observes you like the answer is the most obvious thing in the world. Because there is no other girl.

 He doesn't say it, he can't. He doesn't want to mess with you, he doesn't want to lose you again and scare you. 

"You know y/n, I've never met a waitress as good as you." 

You laugh, putting a hand over your mouth. "You're an easy guy to get Steve Harrington"

He opens his eyes wide and you don't realize it but is'shere, clear, limpid: Steve has never said his surname. You don't notice, not really. You keep walking beside him. "Thanks," you whisper as you let your arm slide, intertwining it with his. What would it be like to really feel his skin? 

Warm. Rough in the points furrowed by scars, soft in the rest of the body. To Feel the sensation of  naked flesh on your lips, the scent of laundry, the saltiness of his body, the pulse of the vein on his neck, where you place a kiss that isn't there, never was. It's a fantasy that looks a lot like a memory. It scares you. "Let's go." He exhorts you, with shyness and a touch of fear his hand moves to your back and your body is warm under his gaze. His breath is against his cheek, slips under the scarf, up to your neck."Yes" he says, holding his breath. It's cold, but not that much, not now, not for you. Not when you feel Steve's nose against your ear, not when he notices your twitch too. Steve closes his eyes, tries to refrain from telling you everything, from holding you tightly to him, it's so difficult now that he has you close again to resist, to keep a distance that hurts and he doesn't want. "Are you cold?" Steve asks  in a low voice, but for you this question is so much like the caress you've been craving since you became aware of his presence in the shop, since you met his gaze."Not at all'."

You feel Steve's smile on your cheek and you feel like you're. You just turn your head, just to give him the opportunity to reach your lips, but Steve doesn't kiss you, he's still with his eyes closed and who knows what he thinks of you, looking for a kiss from someone you don't even know

."You smell like coffee." The words are an incandescent breath on the mouth. His breath join yours,  you can feel the the taste of him – mint and aftershave – before you even smell it, like you've never tasted anything else in your life. 

"You don't like it?" Thrill after thrill, waiting to discover something about him that you don't know yet. Everything, you have to find out everything, but it seems to you that you have known him for a lifetime."I love coffee" You know he is lying. You just know. But you don't care. Just one question goes through your head and in order not to give it a voice you decide to shut your mouth in the best possible way at the moment. You shiver a little when your lips are close to him. You trace his cheek slowly with your lips, waiting for the moment when he pulls back and tells you you're crazy. You look for the right way to kiss him. 

"I don't usually do that. You must have something very special" You whisper against him. And Steve can't take it anymore, like a dam that breaks its banks, he pushes you completely against him, as if you were one. And then, finally, he finds his way. When he kisses you – slowly at first, giving your lips time to get to know each other; then devouring your every thought, as if nothing else exist but you – you find yourself repeating to yourself that you don't want to kiss anyone anymore. Touch no one anymore. Let anyone kiss and touch you except from Steve. 

"Steve" You murmur breathlessly, pulling away from him. "Would you think I'm crazy if I tell you something?"He shakes his head, his lips swollen and beautifully red. "Never"

"I knew you before, didn't I?" Now Steve Harrington no longer has the strength to lie.Steve Harrington has come to get his girl back and far off in the dark of night he swears he can see Robin Buckley smiling at him for it.

Yeeees. There's so little fanfics about Ryan Reynolds and his characters. Totally unfair.

Thank you for this story 🥹🥹

Torture

Pairing: Nolan Booth x Fem!reader

Summary: What happens when The Bishop decides to torture you instead of Hartley?

Warnings: swearing, kidnapping, torture

A/n: I love me some Ryan Reynolds and I was shocked to see that there weren’t a lot of fanfics based off Red Notice so I had to write something

You met John Hartley and the infamous Nolan Booth after getting arrested in Rome. Your life as a criminal was just starting and this was your second heist. Call it beginners bad luck. Somehow all three of you found yourselves intermingled with unearthing the three cleopatra eggs. It has been quite an adventure, an FBI agent, the world’s second best art thief, and the worlds best failed art thief.

Unbeknownst to you, Nolan and Hartley were handcuffed together in a room further down. You couldn’t hear a thing over the sound of a crowd cheering.

For some unknown reason the only thing you could think of was whether Nolan was okay. Your heart raced at the idea of the Bishop torturing him for information on the third egg. You hated to admit that the criminal had grown on you, his constant humor and dashing looks made him completely irresistible but there was also something much deeper and gentler that drew you towards him.

“Where is she?!”, Nolan spit at the Bishop.

She walked in front of him, “That’s not important Booth, this is the time where you tell us where the third egg is.’”.

Nolan let out a breathy laugh, “Piss off for a thousand years.”.

“Oh bummer, I really wanted to do it the easy way.”, she sighed, “That’s okay, I’ll get the information from you, by hurting him.”., she gestured towards Hartley.

“I’m sorry what?”, Hartley questioned.

“I love this plan.”, of course Nolan would.

Bishop turned up an electricity machine and made her way towards Hartley, “You two share a special bond, I mean why else risk your lives together attempting to steal the eggs.”, she grabs two metal pliers, “Isn’t that right, Agent Hartley?”.

“There isn’t any bond between us, I barley know the guy…Booth tell her we’re not friends.”.

Of course being the cheeky one, Booth had to play this one out, “She knows about us pal.”.

“That’s bullshit..”, Hartley immediately knew what he was doing.

“She knows about our special bond..she knows you were the best man at my wedding…”.

“You son of bitch.”, Harley spat at Booth, “He’s lying!”. The Bishop teasingly sparks the pliers in front of Hartley’s face.

“If she hurts you bad enough, I mean if she gets really creative with it, than I’m gonna have no choice but to tell her everything.”, Nolan continues his speech.

“Now Mr. Booth, where is the third egg?”, Nolan stayed silent, “Okay..here I go..”.

“No don’t wait..”, Nolan sarcastically pleas.

He seemed completely unfazed with the torture his new found friend was being subjected to.

“Hm, let’s switch it up.”, the Bishop nods to Sotto and he exits the room with one of the pliers, “If this isn’t working maybe giving a few shocks to that pretty little thing down the hall will.”.

Nolan freezes, suddenly the air feels stiff and the once humorous situation turned sour, “Don’t you fucking touch her.”. He says in a serious tone.

“Seems like we’ve struck a nerve, tell me where the egg is.”.

“Eat shit!”, she lets out a low chuckle and presses a button.

Your screams could be heard clearly, crying for help, crying for Nolan’s help, “NOLAN!!”.

“NO NO STOP IT!”, Nolan thrashes around, “ITS IN EGYPT!”, Nolan finally caved in.

She stoped the machine, “Where in Egypt?”.

“It’s buried with Cleopatra in the Grand pyramid, there’s a secret entry way, alright!Just please stop hurting her.”, Nolan breathes heavily.

“See! That wasn’t that hard, I would say nice working with you but we both know that would be a lie.”, and with that The Bishop left.

“I swear to God I’m gonna to kill that bitch”.

While the two of them got into a shooting fight with Sotto, you were still trapped in the chair. Your body felt numb and your cheeks felt wet, you presumed it was your tears. There was a metallic taste in your mouth and all you could do was whimper as you heard gun shots.

Than there was silence, you heard a door open and your blindfold was ripped off. It took a minute for your eyes to adjust to your environment but the only thing you could see was Nolan’s worried expression as he looked down at you.

“Nolan, it hurts”, you sobbed.

“Hey hey hey, I know sweetheart.”, he didn’t mean for the name to slip out but he was too distracted to care.

Nolan unhooked the restraints and guided you to your feet, you immediately crashed into his chest due to how weak you felt.

“The electricity affected her worse than me because she’s much smaller than I am.”, Hartley spoke and met Nolan’s eyes. Hartley knew the look Nolan had and felt guilty for how badly injured you were.

“I was so scared they were going to hurt you.”, you spoke.

“I wish it was me rather than you.,” he said in a whisper.

You pulled back from the embrace and met his eyes which looked down upon you lovingly yet concerned. He lowered his head and placed a hesitant kiss on your forehead. As he pulled back he analyzed your face for any sort of reaction, once he saw the faint blush on your cheeks and your smile he returned it. He cupped your face and leaned in, your breath hitched as your two lips connected.

You deepened the kiss by pulling him closer by the neck earning a short groan from him.

“Okay okay, break it up!”, the two of you pulled away both out of breath and looked towards Hartley.

“Dude! A little privacy here!”, Nolan said and promptly returned to kissing you.

“Why did I agree to any of this.”, Hartley left with a huff.

You didn’t know what the futures has in stored but for now you felt safe in Nolan’s arms and you knew that this is where you belong.

Today I re-watched 200 Cartas: Looking for Maria Sanchez and I love Raul so much. He is funny and cute, so cute. Yet I can't find a fanfic with him. I need it so muuuuch!

I don't know, maybe one where y/n is Juan's (Raul's friend) sister and likes Raul, but don't have courage to tell him that and they go look for Maria and both of them get together in the end.

Or one where Raul meet y/n in Puerto Rico when he is looking for Maria, y/n is friend of one Maria or help him somehow...

I really don't know I just need Lin-Manuel as Raul contents.

Steve is so dumb, I love him.

Matt is an ass! Y/n deserves better.

Do you plan in make a part 2? If yes, can I be tagged, please? Can't wait to see Steve all worried about y/n

I'm Not The Only One

Summary: You and Steve hate each other. He sees your boyfriend cheat on you. Will you believe him?

Word Count: 2316

Note: Not revised. This was an idea I got while listening to Sam Smith.

Your best friend was Eddie Munson and he had introduced you to the group when you moved back to Hawkins the summer after he graduated. Eddie spent so much time with his friends, especially Dustin that you grew close to him as well. You assume this is where the hatred from Steve started.

Steve would often hear your name so much it started to piss him off. First it was simple things such as Max or Nancy skipping out on group hangouts to go to the mall or a concert with you. Then it was his two closest friends Robin and Dustin who would go to you for things instead of Steve. It started with Robin: “Sorry Steve, Y/N is actually giving me a ride” after a shift. Then came Dustin: “I’m going to ask for Y/N’s opinion” on his outfit for a school dance or a date. Steve felt he was slowly getting replaced. With his lack of parents and his growing insecurities, Steve could feel himself isolating and becoming lonely. Soon, he would start flaking on group activities too and stop offering rides to his friends. 

Everyone noticed but no one knew how to bring up Steve’s absence. He would ignore their phone calls and door visits. He would be “too busy” at work to talk to Robin about it. He would somehow always be “unloading boxes” or “doing inventory” in the backroom when the kids would appear.

The group then decided to have a little meeting to see what they should do about it. It was when you suggested that maybe you should go talk to him about it, that the group started piecing together your new presence in the group coincided with his new absence. After much bickering from both Wheelers about how this seemed like a bad idea, you decided to just do it anyway.

So here you were, knocking for a third time on Steve Harrington's door. Eddie, Dustin, Robin, Lucas, and Max decided to “hide out” in Eddie’s van across the street to watch. You could definitely see them from the front door and so would Steve if he ever answered. You started getting impatient with Steve. His car was clearly in the driveway and you could hear the sound of a tv through the door.

“Steve, I know you’re in there. I can hear you.” You shouted. “If you don’t want to answer the door, I’ll just say my piece through the door.” You waited a few seconds. No reply. “Okay then, well we’re all worried about you. If me or any of the others did something to upset you, we’d like to know so we could fix it. I offered to come and speak with you because we all agreed ever since I joined the group, you’ve been off. If I’ve offended you or hurt you, I’d like to talk about it.”

The door suddenly opens and Steve’s looking as cozy and handsome as ever. Was he always this pretty? “H-hi Ste-” Your stuttering is cut short by Steve’s glaring and stern voice.

“I don’t want to speak with you.” He looks over your shoulder and can see Eddie’s van with several heads poking through the windows. “You can tell them that too. You know, since you’re this great, amazing, wonderful person. They clearly don’t need me anymore since they have you. Miss perfect.” He scoffs.

“Stev-” You attempt to stop him to ask what the hell is going on.

“Just go. Honestly, just get out of Hawkins. Go back to wherever the hell you came from and leave us alone. More importantly, leave me alone.” And with that the door slams in your face, leaving you in a blanket of embarrassment and anger. That was the start of your hatred for Steve.

-

A few years had gone by, the kids now seniors in high school. You’d met them when they were soon to be sophomores. Steve had integrated back into the group when you dialed back on your involvement. You’d often still hang out with Max or Lucas, and of course Eddie. But you started declining solo hangouts with Robin or Dustin and sometimes Nancy. Steve didn’t want to believe or think he was only useful now that you were out of the picture, well partially, but he appreciated it. It definitely helped with the loneliness too.

Over the last two years, anytime you’d see Steve, you’d just roll your eyes and keep your snarky comments to yourself (and Eddie who’d just chuckle and shake his head). Steve wasn’t as professional as you were though. He’d “accidentally” bump into you causing you to stumble, not enough to where you’d fall or seriously hurt yourself but enough to irk you and distract from whatever task you were doing. If you are at movie nights, he’d steal the entire bowl of popcorn or take the last slice of pizza or be super obnoxious by licking the top of the soda bottle so you (or anyone else) could have some. Of course Eddie would defend your honor and tell Steve to lay off and share his snacks with you, but it started to become too much. And there was the name calling: you forgot what time a hangout was? You’re dumb. You got over excited about a new song or movie? You’re a dork. You were too scared to go into a haunted house? You’re lame. So ultimately you started pulling back from the group even more.

This led you to seek friends in other places. That’s how you met Matt. Friend turned boyfriend. You’d met while on a solo trip to the arcade. He’d noticed you were playing Pac-Man alone and offered to play with you. You’d spent the entire night playing games and shared a basket of fries and chicken tenders. After exchanging phone numbers, you’d promise to see each other again. 

A few weeks later, you’d walked hand in hand into Family Video, all smiles as you searched the racks of movies. 

“Who the hell is that?” Steve leaned his elbows onto the counter, watching you and Matt. “She’s got a boyfriend? Since when?”

“They’ve been dating for like a month, you dingus. I’d think you’d realize that since she’s been spending less time with us.” Robin laughed quietly.

“Surprised anyone would want to date her, since she’s a witch.” Steve smiled at a customer who approached the counter. As he made small talk and rang the man up, you and Matt separated so you could go talk to Robin. Matt continued to scan the shelves, finding something you both might like. 

“Hey girly,” you smiled at Robin. “How’s work?”

“Better now that you’re here.” She winked, both of you chuckling. “How are things with Matt?”

“Good, good. We’re having a movie night at his place.” You smiled and looked over to Steve. “What are you staring at?”

“Nothing, nothing.” He laughed and threw his hands up in surrender. “You know, you might like this movie here. Since you starred in it and everything.” He handed you a copy of The Wizard of Oz.

You rolled your eyes, quick to respond. “You’re in it too ya know? You must have made a lot of money playing three roles. No heart, no brain, and a coward. I guess it didn’t take much to play those roles.”

“She got you there, Steve.” Robin laughed. 

“Matt, I’m going to wait outside.” You called.

“Okay babe, I’m almost done choosing.” He smiled, grabbing a copy of Grease. “Hey man, just this one.” He handed it to Steve.

“Sure thing.” He sighed and rang Matt up. Steve watched as Matt made his way out to you, throwing an arm around your shoulders and walking to his car. Steve scowled while Robin snickered. “What’s funny?”

“Oh dude, you’re so jealous.” Robin hopped onto the counter. “You like Y/N.”

“Absolutely not.” Steve faked a gag. “She’s the worst.”

“Why do you hate her so much? She literally never did anything.” Robin kicked Steve’s hip with her foot.

“She tried to replace me!” He argued.

“She did not. She had just moved here and her only friend was Eddie. She just wanted to make friends. You,” She kicked his butt cheek as he turned to leave from behind the counter. “Got jealous and blew up on her.”

“Did not.”

“Did too. And now you like her.” Robin hopped off the counter. “You try to hide it by being mean to her but you really like her.” She starts to make kissing noises. “You’re such a cliche Harrington.”

“Am not.” He tosses a rag toward her. “And I don’t like her.”

_

To say this night was a mess was a huge understatement. Not only had Steve’s comments actually hurt, but Matt was acting completely like Danny Zuko. You’d been watching Grease on his couch, snuggled under a blanket, when he tried to pull a move like Danny did to Sandy. You’d declined because you wanted to just watch the movie but he insisted. Then he made you feel guilty about not kissing him yet. You hadn’t had a serious kiss before and wanted to wait a bit. Your first kiss was with Eddie, a friendship pact to kiss each other and get it over with before you both turned 18. It was not good and you’d both laughed while it was happening. Now that you were looking to get serious with someone, you wanted a good first kiss redo.

The night had ended abruptly after you rushed off the couch and told Matt you’d see him later. You promised to call him when you got home. That call was not answered on his end. 

You tried calling him several times over the weekend but they all went unanswered. Had you messed up? No, he messed up. He was the one behaving like an idiot. You decided you’d go to his house and squash this entire thing Monday night after your morning shift.

What you hadn’t known was that he’d been preoccupied all weekend with his ex girlfriend Annalise. 

-

“You’re just trying to hurt Y/N. That didn’t happen Steve. It’s not funny.” Robin rolled her eyes. 

“I’m not Robin! I saw him. He had his arm wrapped around this girl that was not Y/N!” Steve followed her around the store as she reshelved returned tapes. “His tongue was down her throat. I swear.”

“How do you even know it was Matt?” She turned to face him, jumping when she realized just how close he was.

“He had on that stupid sweater vest and that lame haircut. I know it was him. Now you have to call Y/N and tell her.” He urged. 

“Why don’t you call and tell her yourself?” Robin shrugged. “You actually saw them.”

“She’ll believe you. She’ll never trust my word.” Steve pleaded. “Please, you have to tell her.” He grabbed the movie from her. “Please.” He whispered.

“I love Y/N but Steve, I didn’t see it and I don’t want to speak about something I don’t know about. Maybe ask Eddie to talk to her.” Robin snatched the movie back from Steve.

“If I tell Eddie, we’ll both be forced to kick this guy’s ass. I’d like to avoid going to jail for murder.” Steve sighed. “Please just talk to Y/N.”

“Talk to me about what?” Your voice carried across the store as their heads snapped to the door. The bell above the door definitely needed to be fixed. How did they not hear you come in? “Cat got your tongue?” You laughed and approached the counter.

“I was just telling Robin that you forgot to return Grease. It was due yesterday.” Steve muttered. 

“Actually, it’s under Matt’s name. So he forgot to return it. You can give him a call.” You shrugged. “Not sure if he’ll  answer the phone though.” You sighed.

“Well, what brings you in?” Steve asked nervously. There was no normal tone of annoyance or snarkiness laced in his words. You raised an eyebrow.

“Was just looking to speak to Robin actually. Girl problems.” You turn to look for her but she’s nowhere to be found. “Robin? Where’d she go?”

Steve’s just as clueless as you. He clears his throat and steps behind the counter. “So, um… how are things?”

“How are things?” You chuckle. “Why do you care?”

“I’m just trying to make small talk to fill in the awkwardness of this interaction.” He replies honestly. “How’s Matt?”

“I don’t know.” You lean against the counter. “He hasn’t been answering my calls. We kind of had a weird thing happen Friday night. That’s what I came by to ask Robin ab-”

“He’s cheating on you.” Steve blurts.

Your body tenses and you lean off the counter. “What?”

“He’s cheating. I saw him with another girl.”

“That’s not funny, Steve.” You glare at him, eyes narrowing. “You’re always so mean but this is super hurtful.”

“I’m not making a joke Y/N. I saw him!” He steps out from behind the counter as you start to back away. “I wanted to tell you but I knew you wouldn’t believe me.”

“Who else knows? Who else was there?” You ask quietly, tears springing into your eyes.

“Just me.” He sighs. “I was grabbing food after work when I saw-”

“When? What day?” 

“Friday night. I thought it wasn’t him because he should’ve been with you.” He steps forward. “But he was wearing that vest with the diamond pattern. The green one. That’s how I remembered him.”

Suddenly, unfortunately, the bell signaling a new customer went off. Both you and Steve jumped at the sound, looking to the door.

“Welcome to Family Video!” Robin shouted as she entered from the back room. Her eyes flickered between Steve and you. You had to get out of there. And you did. Running as fast as possible back to your car. 

Ugh, the cutest thing I've read today 🥹❤️

♡ asking steve harrington to be your first kiss!

𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐀𝐒𝐊 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐕𝐄 𝐓𝐎 𝐁𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓 𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒.

pairings ; steve harrington x shy!reader 

warnings ;  friends but with mutual pining, shy!reader, first kiss, food, pet names, mentions of steve biting ( i promise it’s just a wee joke and isn’t as weird as it might sound. )

word count ; 1704 — whoops.

additional notes ; i swear harmonia, i see your concepts and stuff in people's asks and i think you're literally the best at it so thank you so much for sending this sweet blurb idea through <33

“stevie?” you ask into the empty air, tearing your eyes away from the view in steve’s passenger seat as you previously pondered silently. “mhm?” is all he mumbles back, to show he’s listening while scooping another spoonful of the chocolate ice cream from his tub.

you weren’t sure why you were having ice cream on a cold winter’s night, but steve had suggested it and you never tend to question steve’s random motives as such. your half-eaten raspberry tub rests on your lap, slightly melted from neglect during the reverie you coaxed yourself into. parked atop a hill overlooking the town below the moonlight.

you don’t continue at first, looking down to your knee which now bounces anxiously. and with the extra space of silence, steve looks up from his ice cream, eyes peeking beneath the strands of hair that poke his face.

sitting the tub into one cup holder, steve moves back against his seat, one hand beginning to drum the steering wheel aimlessly while he watches your body language. “you don’t like it? thought it was one of your favourites?” steve continues worriedly, and nods towards the dessert in your hands.

you shake your head, ushering it into the cup holder beside his with a very small, “no, no. i do… i’ll have it in a second.”

“okay.”

the car falls silent again, steve watches as you slump against your seat and lose yourself in the view again. however, steve can tell it isn’t the landscape you’re thinking of, but if only he could pinpoint exactly what you were thinking.

penny for your thoughts, steve thinks and hesitates upon saying. in the end leaving you be at first, instead reaching a hand over to your restless knee and it suddenly stops moving. steve squeezes it affectionately, a small message that he’s still listening as he turns down the radio ever so slightly.

“what was your first kiss like?” you splutter all of a sudden, voice quiet and a deep nervous inhale following. steve wasn’t expecting it, eyes blinking and eyebrows raising as he processes the question. he taps your knee once more before moving his hand back to his lap, and you immediately miss the warmth.

“eighth grade with vanessa johnson. i freaked out so bad i bit her lip and she never spoke to me again.”

with steve’s statement you giggle. of course he did just that. “you bit her?” you repeat, hand covering your mouth as more laughter falls from your lips, and steve joins you with an amused nod, “sure did.”

your hand falls from your mouth while you lean your head back to face the car roof, laughter slowly falling back down and steve can only watch you with the fondest smile. “do you bite every girl you kiss?”

“no. funnily enough it was an accident and she hated my guts for it,” steve responds to your teasing with another chuckle emitting his throat. your head tilts to the side, cheek pressed to your shoulder as you look over at him, his gaze intoxicating as he smiles so warmly towards you.

“i got much better, y’know?” steve smirks, ego boosting himself. “i know,” you reply without thinking and steve pulls a face, confusion and amusement packed into one before nudging your arm gently, “what do you mean you know?”

you laugh again, embarrassed and quietly when you reply, “high school girls locker room. steve harrington was the topic of conversation most days before gym class for the popular girls.” steve grimaces, unamused and worried about the fact that you had heard those conversations about steve’s kissing techniques.

“god, high school. don’t miss it a bit.”

you don’t reply. looking out the passenger door window and to the couple of cars upon that side, distractedly staring as you sigh sadly. and steve’s not an idiot. he’s your best friend and also someone who’s been infatuated with you for years, he can tell what you’re thinking this time.

“it’ll happen, you just need to find the right person.”

your first kiss. still in your twenties without having ever kissed someone, while others around you were now in serious relationships.

you close your eyes and sigh at steve’s words. that’s the problem; you have always had the right person but you’re too terrified to make the first move. the unbearable fear that steve wouldn’t like you back was excruciating while he dated several girls during your friendship that you hoped he would be brave enough to do something instead.

maybe he just wasn’t interested in you that way. since he had no problem asking all those other girls out, as far as you can tell.

“i have an idea.”

steve’s quiet and patient to match your timid voice, you can usually get more shy in conversations you’re scared of and he’s willing to hear you out. but when is he never. “yeah?” is all he asks, practically a whisper.

your words get lodged in your throat, how are you supposed to ask your best friend to kiss you? that’s not easy. what if he hates you after? what if he thinks you’re impatient? or what if it ruins your friendship?

you wave yourself off, cringing on yourself and about to change the subject completely while leaning a hand down for your tub of ice cream but steve grips your hand and bends his head down to meet your gaze.

“hey, hey, hey. you can tell me your idea. i won’t judge you.”

“i don’t know, steve, i—” steve turns, his body facing yours while he grips your other free hand and you follow his movements to face him more clearer. the car light was on while you previously ate and it illuminated the tanned skin upon his face, showing off the sweet dark freckles spotted across his cheek and neck. 

“i know who i want to be my first kiss.”

your forehead falls into you and steve’s held hands, embarrassed while a small ‘o’ shape forms on steve’s mouth as he thinks. “oh,” is all steve says, a pang of hurt sprawling across his chest rapidly at the word. someone. someone.

before you can lift your head to ramble an apology about how stupid it is, steve beats you to it by holding onto his pride and storing away his sadness. “any guy would be so lucky to have you, yeah? so lucky, baby. and if you know who you want to be your first kiss, i say go for it.”

steve’s ready to continue, busy trying to seem like he’s okay with this idea and not noticing that you lift your head back up to look at him properly. he doesn’t notice the way you squeeze his gripping hands or giggle at his rushed voice, he doesn’t notice anything until you say, “steve.”

it’s quiet. your voice barely audible but steve thanks his good hearing because he immediately cuts himself off to listen to you. your faces are close, his pupils rapidly moving when they scan over your features as if he’s figuring out what you’re trying to say.

“what, baby?”

“steve.” you say again, tone knowing and desperate and almost a hint of feeling shameful and steve’s eyes widen when yours fleet to his lips for the shortest second. this can’t be real, steve thinks. there’s no way.

you huff when he still sits still, hands keep holding yours tightly, “don’t make me say it,” you whine and steve chuckles. he tilts his head down, forehead pressed against yours as he replies, “oh, but i want you to say it. please say it.”

you can feel the warmth spread to your face as another shy whine threatens to break your throat, but just as you move your head in an attempt to tuck it into his neck, steve’s hands are shuffling from yours so he’s cupping your face.

“it’s okay, baby. it’s okay. i can do it, i’ll gladly do it. if you want me to?” his thumbs swipe your skin so delicately and his eyes are gazing with such a genuine stare that you feel you might crumble. with a nod, there’s a strangled sentence you let out, “y-yes. i do, stevie.”

he chuckles once more, a mixture of how cute he thinks you are but also in disbelief that he’s about to kiss you.

steve’s so slow, head tilting as he leans forward so his nose runs across your skin and you can feel the ghost of his lips closer and closer. in a warm daze, you whisper into the cold car when steve’s lips touch the corner of yours, “don’t bite me.”

you feel the curve of his smile while his nose drags down your face so he’s tucked under your jaw, both of your chests heaving with laughter. your hands reach up so they are holding onto his wrists, and he looks back up at your cupped face, “no promises, you’ll probably taste of raspberry ice cream.”

this time steve’s patience isn’t as strong, leaning forward to crash his lips against yours in what you believe will be most breath-taking kiss you could ever receive. corners of both your lips threaten to smile as you feel the sparks within your chest and squeeze the skin of his wrists.

he tastes of chocolate from his ice cream and the coffee he had earlier on and you go light-headed at the thought, never wanting to pull away. he’s so sweet and slow, lips guiding yours against his so tenderly that you pray to god it won’t be the last steve harrington kiss you receive.

you both reluctantly pull away, lungs begging to be filled with air but steve only pulls away for a moment before pecking your lips again. your mind feels foggy from the gesture that you almost don’t notice the nip to your bottom lip as steve pulls away.

you gasp mockingly, opening your eyes with steve’s smug smirk, turning his palms from your face so he can hold yours again, resting them against your lap. “i was right,” steve says, leaning forward when you dip your head to contain your happiness.

“you taste like raspberries,” steve murmurs just as happily against your lips.

⤸

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