#steveharringtonxreader

Pairings: Steve Harrington x Mayfield/Hopper!OC

Summary: Vecna's curse, found family, grief, soulmates, memories worth fighting for, and Steve Harrington refusing to let her go, Mayfield's sisters, Lumax parallel.

"Stop being such a princess, Steven."

Steve's POV

"This one?" Dustin asks, completely lost as he searches through the tapes with Lucas.

"It's gotta be Bowie or Joel!" I panic, flipping through cassette after cassette and never finding the right one. "What was that damn song she listens to on repeat? The one about heroes or something? Shit, think, Steve!"

Then my eyes land on Mauve.

Flashbacks 84'

Lila is sitting in my arms while I absentmindedly braid her hair. She leans forward to put a cassette into the player on the nightstand.

A melody starts playing, and she immediately starts bobbing her head before singing along with a goofy smile on her face.

"Is that David Bowie?" I ask innocently, but I instantly regret it when she turns around to look at me in shock, her eyes wide.

"How dare you even ask that?" She lightly smacks my arm.

"Ow." I pretend to be hurt, earning an eye roll from her followed by a soft laugh.

"Stop being such a princess, Steven." She gently kisses my cheek before looking at me with the kind of gaze that could calm every stormy ocean. Her hand plays with a strand of my hair. "Of course it's David Bowie. I love this song. I... I relate to the lyrics so much. I love being able to listen to it and feel like it was written for me. You know that moment when you feel so connected to a song that it feels like it's touching a place inside you that you didn't even know existed, or a place you wanted to forget?"

I gently nod, smiling at her fondly as her eyes fill with tears, like they always do whenever her mind wanders onto something she cares deeply about.

"I think about you when I listen to it..." she says. "So it makes me feel like I'm doing better."

"If that's the case, then it becomes my favorite song too, because I'll think about you whenever I listen to it." I smile softly and kiss the tip of her nose, which has always reminded me of a deer.

"Steve." She laughs, shaking her head. "You already think about me whenever you hear Bowie."

"Yeah, but this one, I'll think about us." I say with complete seriousness.

🎶 And we kissed, as though nothing could fall (nothing could fall) And the shame, was on the other side Oh we can beat them, for ever and ever Then we could be Heroes, just for one day We can be Heroes. 🎶

"I love you."

"I love you too." I kiss her softly, pulling her into my arms. "What's it called, by the way?"

She laughs even harder before answering.

"Heroes."

"Heroes!" I shout, frantically shuffling through the cassette tapes.

"Heroes by David Bowie?!" Dustin asks urgently.

I nod.

"Here!"

"I found Max's too!" Lucas shouts, grabbing the cassette, Running Up That Hill by Kate Bush.

Lucas and I simultaneously shove the tapes into their Walkmans while Dustin slips the headphones over their ears.

"Now!"

The music starts playing.

But Lila and Max's bodies rise into the air, making us stumble back and fall to the ground from the shock.

I start screaming, Lucas and Dustin right behind me.

"No! I forbid you, if you can hear me, I forbid you, baby! You're strong, so fight! Fight, my love! Fight, Max! Fight! Both of you, fight! You can't leave me!"

"Max, please! Come back to me!" Lucas cries, his voice breaking.

Don't do this... Please come back.

Lila's POV

I frown when Heroes starts playing in my ears. My gaze drifts and finds two kinds of portals deep within the red mist. One for Max, where Kate Bush's music is playing and one for me but both show the same thing.

Them.

I hear Steve begging me, telling me to fight and come back to him, and the tears I've been holding back begin to fall before I can stop them...

"They can't save you," Vecna tells us.

"It's no coincidence that you've been isolating yourselves from your friends. And that you've lost your powers, Lila."

My eyes widen and my breathing quickens.

"It's because your place is with me. Here."

"No. You don't exist. That's not you," Max says.

"You mean nothing," I say in turn.

"I exist. I am real."

He says it as he places one hand above each of our faces.

🎶 Oh we can be Heroes, just for one day 🎶

"I love you, you know that?" she says, swallowing a sob.

"I love you too. You're my person, Nancy Wheeler," I whisper, a lump in my throat.

"You're my person, Lila Hopper Mayfield."

She quickly pulls me into a tight hug, holding me close before pulling back with a soft smile, wiping away a tear that slipped down my cheek without me noticing.

🎶 I, I will be king 🎶

"Okay, you have to-" he starts explaining before I cut him off.

"Shut up and watch the pro."

I punch a hole, bring the can to my mouth, and chug it. When I'm done, I throw it on the ground and bow dramatically, grinning proudly at his jaw-dropping shock.

"I have to say, I've never been more attracted to you than I am right now," he says softly, stepping closer.

"Oh yeah?" I laugh mischievously, wrapping my arms around his neck.

"Yeah, but you've got way too much ego. Maybe some cold water will bring you down a notch."

I barely have time to react before he picks me up and heads toward the pool.

"No, stop! I'm not kidding, Steve! Put me down!" He laughs. "What if I get hypothermia from the temperature difference? I've been tanning for an hour-"

I don't get to finish before he jumps into the pool with me.

I bury my head into his shoulder, clinging to him like I'm jumping from six meters high. The water surrounds my skin, replacing the air. I gasp from the shock of the temperature difference. He laughs like a maniac at my expression.

"Steve, I hate you," I say through clenched teeth.

"Impossible. You'll never stop loving me," he smiles, kissing me tenderly as I wrap my legs around his waist.

🎶 And you, you will be queen 🎶

Steve places his hands on my waist while I rest mine behind his neck.

I look at him with so much love, wishing I could stay like this for hours, feeling like the rest of the world has disappeared.

"Every Breath You Take" by The Police starts playing, making me smile even wider. It's one of my favorite songs.

"I slipped the DJ some cash. I should warn you, though, he's not exactly cheap," Steve grumbles, making me laugh.

"Why did you wanna dance with me, Harrington?" I ask softly.

"Because you deserve it. At the last school dance, I made you hide, and I never wanna do that again. I want the world to know that I love you. You and only you, Lila Hopper Mayfield," he says, looking straight into my eyes.

"I think I fall in love with you a little more every day, Steve Harrington," I whisper, leaning closer.

"I think I do too," he says before closing the distance between us, kissing me gently while cupping my face.

He only pulls away when we're both out of breath, and I rest my head against his chest, savoring the moment for as long as I possibly can.

🎶 Though nothing will drive them away 🎶 

"I know you didn't want to leave... I'm sorry for what I said when I got mad," Max whispers, not wanting the others to hear.

"I'm not mad at you, Maxie, I understand. And I'm sorry I didn't tell you... I promise it's not because I don't trust you. I just wanted to protect you however I could," I reassure her.

"I get it now. And I promise I won't take stupid risks." She smiles and hugs me. I hug her back, kissing the top of her head.

"You know... you're like the best mom ever, Lisie. Even if that wasn't supposed to be your role."

"Well then, you're the best daughter, Maxie." I smile softly.

🎶 We can be Heroes, just for one day 🎶

"You want a cigarette and my heart?" he asks, handing me one and showing off the tattoos on his arm.

I take the cigarette gladly and exhale a puff of smoke.

"Thanks for the cigarette. As for your heart, I already have one. Look at you. You're obsessed with me, babe."

I hand the cigarette back and wink as I start walking away.

"Oh, and don't forget, you still owe me a private guitar solo of any song I want."

"You really won't let it go, princess," he says, shaking his head, amused. "Am I wrong?"

"No, you're absolutely not wrong. You lost the bet, so I want my solo before one of us dies prematurely. Sorry, pretty boy, should've won."

🎶 We can be us, just for one day 🎶

I'm with El in the bathroom, wiping the blood from under her nose.

"I'm so sorry, Lila. Because of me, you can't find your friend..."

"Hey, hey! No, sweetie, absolutely not. It's not your fault, okay? We'll find another way," I tell her, wiping the tears from her cheeks with my thumbs. "Listen to me, my angel. I know that all your life, they told you that you were the problem, that you were the monster but you're not. Do you hear me? You. Are. Not. We're a family here, and family sticks together. We'll find a way without putting your life at risk."

"Promise?" she asks in a small voice.

"Pinky promise," I say, holding out my hand.

"Pinky promise?" she asks, confused.

"It's like a spit swear, but without the spit," I laugh softly, taking her hand to show her how the promise works. "See? Now that our pinkies are linked, nothing can break it. As long as I'm alive, I'll be your big sister, and you'll be my little sister, okay? Anyway, I'm already the big sister of all these losers, so one more or less what's the difference?"

🎶 I, I can remember (I remember) 🎶

I walk over to him, trying to look strong, making a joke.

"Is it the light of your star making you cry or what, Jon Jon?" I tease him, bringing back a reference I hadn't used in a long time.

"Shut up," he sighs, his voice trembling as he pulls me tightly into his arms. I wrap my arms around his waist in return. "I'm really going to miss you. You were my first friend, my first best friend, my only one. I'm really going to miss you, Lila..."

"Great, my eyes are burning from crying so much, thanks a lot." I complain playfully while crying against his chest before pulling back to look him in the eyes. "I love you, man."

"I love you too, star."

🎶 And the guns, shot above our heads (over our heads) 🎶

I feel my hands trembling.

Max rips some kind of vine from Vecna's neck, breaking free from his grasp, while a spark of electricity suddenly burns through the vine that had been tightening around my throat.

I stare at my hands in confusion, but I don't have time to dwell on it.

"Run! Maxie, run!"

We run as fast as our legs will carry us.

The ground shakes beneath us as rocks sent by Vecna crash down beside us, but we don't stop.

Never.

Steve is right in front of me, and I have no intention of watching him disappear.

I take one last step and suddenly feel myself falling.

"Oh my God, thank you!"

I feel Steve's arms wrap around me.

I'm still panicking a little, but his hands move to my cheeks, forcing me to look into his eyes.

"Hey! Hey! My love, it's over... You're safe! Look at me! It's over, my love."

"Steve..."

I break into sobs and collapse into his arms.

His head rests against mine as he kisses my hair over and over.

"I love you. I love you so much. I- I thought I'd never see you again... God, I was so scared."

Steve doesn't even have time to find words to reassure me before I grab his cheeks and kiss him desperately.

Steve freezes for a second before melting into the kiss with me and kissing me back. 

His hands tighten around me as our breaths mingle before we're finally forced apart. His forehead rests against mine. One of his tears lands on my cheek.

"Don't ever scare me like that again, baby. You hear me? Never."

"I want that. I want that, my love."

Max is off to the side in Lucas's arms. Our eyes meet. I open my arms, and she immediately throws herself into them without hesitation. At the same time, she grabs Steve's arm, pulling him into the embrace. 

I reach for Lucas's hand and then Dustin's, leaving only the five of us tangled together in a hug that everyone desperately needed right now.

🎶...Just for one day We can be Heroes, We're nothing, and nothing will help us Maybe we're lying, then you better not stay But we could be safer, just for one dayjust for one day... 🎶

➤ Read the chapter on Wattpad.

Swgatspp - All-american bitch

(Find it on Wattpad!)

Steve Harrington had always thought he was decent under pressure. Demogorgons? Fine. Russian secret base? Weirdly manageable. Driving six teenagers across Hawkins while being screamed at? Annoying, but survivable. But trying to tell one girl he liked her?

Apparently impossible. It wasn’t even that he didn’t know what he felt. That part was embarrassingly easy.

He knew exactly when it happened, too. Not all at once. Not fireworks.

Just one day he realized he started looking for you when he first walked into WSQK. Realized your laugh made bad shifts shorter. Realized you remembered everyone’s coffee orders.

Realized when you got quiet. And then one day Robin had made some joke and you’d smiled– but it looked tired. And Steve had wanted, suddenly and stupidly, to fix it.

That was when he knew. Unfortunately. You seemed determined to make sure nobody got close enough to notice.

You lived with Robin and Nancy. Which sounded fun in theory. In reality, it meant there was never silence.

Robin barged into your room without knocking. Nancy borrowed sweaters and returned them folded incorrectly. Robin ate your labeled leftovers.

Nancy asked too many questions. Robin asked worse questions. You loved them.

But lately– everything felt too close. You’d come home from work and Robin would already be sprawled across your bed.

Nancy would appear in your doorway. People always wanted pieces of you. And maybe that was selfish.

But lately you’d started locking your door. Spending longer at work. Going for walks.

Trying to remember what it felt like to belong only to yourself. And Steve– Steve was becoming another thing pressing too close.

Not because he did anything wrong. That almost made it worse. Because Steve noticed.

He noticed when you disappeared on movie nights. When you stopped staying after shifts. When you flinched when Robin hugged you unexpectedly.

When you started saying:

“I’m just tired.” Which meant: Please don’t ask.

So Steve did the opposite of asking. He backed up. And somehow–

that hurt too.

One Sunday night, Robin cornered Steve by the record wall. She squinted.

“You’re being weird.” Steve kept alphabetizing vinyls.

“No I’m not.”

“You alphabetized J twice.” Steve stared. Robin crossed her arms.

“Oh my God.”

“What?”

“You still haven’t told her.” Steve groaned. Robin pointed dramatically.

“You’re in love.” Steve looked around.

“Can you say that quieter?” She leaned in.

“You are.” He sighed.

“...Yeah.” Robin softened immediately. Then–

her eyes lit up.

“Oh.” Steve narrowed his.

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“WSQK.” He blinked.

“What about it?” Robin nodded excitedly.

“We do dedications.” Steve stared.

“That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.” Robin gasped.

“It’s romantic.”

“It’s public.”

“You don’t actually confess- you dedicate a song.” Steve stared at her. Robin grinned.

“Come on. Pick one.”

It should’ve been easy. There were thousands of songs. Thousands.

And Steve hated all of them. He sat in the booth after closing surrounded by records. Robin sat cross-legged on the floor.

“Okay.” She held one up.

“Jessie’s Girl.” Steve made a face.

“No.” She grabbed another.

“Head Over Heels.”

“No.” Another

“Every Breath You Take.”

“Robin.” She checked the back.

“... Actually that one’s creepy.” She tossed it. Steve dropped his head onto the counter.

“She’s trying to distance herself.” Robin looked up. Steve sighed.

“She keeps disappearing.” Robin got quieter.

“She says she’s tired.” Steve looked at the tapes.

“But she’s not.” Robin didn’t answer. Which was answer enough.

After a minute she said—

“She loves us.” Steve nodded.

“I know.” Robin twisted a pencil in her fingers.

“She just doesn’t know how to say she needs space.” Steve looked over. Robin shrugged.

“People think boundaries mean rejection.” Steve frowned.

“She thinks she’s hurting people.” Robin nodded. Steve stared at the wall.

Then quietly–

“... I don’t want to be another person asking for something.” Robin looked at him. For once she didn’t joke. She just aked–

“So why the song?” Steve laughed softly.

“Because maybe if she hears it and hates it, I don’t have to watch her say no.” Robin looked at him for a long second. Then she smiled.

Small.

“You idiot.”

Saturday night. WSQK played quietly through the apartment. Robin was cooking.

Nancy was studying. You sat at the table pretending to read. The night radio host laughed.

“And next up– we’ve got a dedication.” Robin froze. Steve.

That idiot. The host read:

“This one goes out to somebody who’s probably overwhelmed by people asking things from her lately.” Your head lifted. Robin stared at the stove.

The host continued:

“They said there isn’t really a song that says exactly what they mean. So… this one isn’t perfect.” Nancy slowly looked at Robin. Robin looked innocent.

Too innocent. The host laughed.

“They wanted me to say–” you stopped breathing.

“-- you don’t owe people all of yourself to be loved.” Silence. Then–

Just Like Heaven. Not some giant love song. Not dramatic.

Not even romantic. Just soft. Warm.

About staying. About waiting. About being there.

No pressure. No promises. Just:

I’m here. Robin looked at you carefully. Nancy looked confused.

You stared at the radio. And suddenly– you understood.

It wasn’t a confession. Not really. Steve wasn’t asking.

He wasn’t pushing. He wasn’t demanding closeness. He was telling you–

I see you. And I’ll still be here. Your eyes burned.

Which was ridiculous. Because it was just a stupid radio dedication.

You found Steve the next morning opening WSQK. He looked up. Immediately panicked.

“Hi.” You leaned against the counter. He looked terrified.

You crossed your arms.

“... you couldn’t find a song?’ He blinked.

“What?” You looked away.

“That’s what the host said.” Steeve looked embarrassed.

“Oh.” You waited. He rubbed his neck.

“Nothing fit.” Your throat tightened. Steve looked at the floor.

Then said quietly–

“I don’t want you to think I expect anything.” You looked at him. He swallowed.

“I know you’ve been trying to breathe.” You stared. He continued–

“And I know everybody wants your time and your attention and–” he laughed once.

“And I just” his voice softened.

“I don’t want to make it harder.” Your chest hurt. Steve looked nervous. Then smiled.

Small.

“I just wanted you to know somebody can care about you without needing something back.” Your eyes burned again. You looked away.

Then stepped forward. And hugged him. Just once.

Your choice. Your timing. Steve froze.

Then carefully hugged back. Not too tight. Not too long.

When you pulled away he smiled.

“Does this mean I’m not losing?” You looked at him. Then smiled a little.

And said–

“I think maybe you stopped trying to win.” Steve blinked. You shrugged.

“And somehow that worked.” He stared. Then immediately ruined the moment.

“So does this mean I’m allowed to dedicate another song?” You groaned.

“Absolutely not.” His grin widened. Robin burst out from behind the shelves.

“WRONG. I already made a list.” You stared. Nancy appeared too.

Steve Harrington had always thought he was decent under pressure. Demogorgons? Fine. Russian secret base? Weirdly manageable. Driving six teenagers across Hawkins while being screamed at? Annoying, but survivable. But trying to tell one girl he liked her?

Apparently impossible. It wasn’t even that he didn’t know what he felt. That part was embarrassingly easy.

He knew exactly when it happened, too. Not all at once. Not fireworks.

Just one day he realized he started looking for you when he first walked into WSQK. Realized your laugh made bad shifts shorter. Realized you remembered everyone’s coffee orders.

Realized when you got quiet. And then one day Robin had made some joke and you’d smiled– but it looked tired. And Steve had wanted, suddenly and stupidly, to fix it.

That was when he knew. Unfortunately. You seemed determined to make sure nobody got close enough to notice.

You lived with Robin and Nancy. Which sounded fun in theory. In reality, it meant there was never silence.

Robin barged into your room without knocking. Nancy borrowed sweaters and returned them folded incorrectly. Robin ate your labeled leftovers.

Nancy asked too many questions. Robin asked worse questions. You loved them.

But lately– everything felt too close. You’d come home from work and Robin would already be sprawled across your bed.

Nancy would appear in your doorway. People always wanted pieces of you. And maybe that was selfish.

But lately you’d started locking your door. Spending longer at work. Going for walks.

Trying to remember what it felt like to belong only to yourself. And Steve– Steve was becoming another thing pressing too close.

Not because he did anything wrong. That almost made it worse. Because Steve noticed.

He noticed when you disappeared on movie nights. When you stopped staying after shifts. When you flinched when Robin hugged you unexpectedly.

When you started saying:

“I’m just tired.” Which meant: Please don’t ask.

So Steve did the opposite of asking. He backed up. And somehow–

that hurt too.

One Sunday night, Robin cornered Steve by the record wall. She squinted.

“You’re being weird.” Steve kept alphabetizing vinyls.

“No I’m not.”

“You alphabetized J twice.” Steve stared. Robin crossed her arms.

“Oh my God.”

“What?”

“You still haven’t told her.” Steve groaned. Robin pointed dramatically.

“You’re in love.” Steve looked around.

“Can you say that quieter?” She leaned in.

“You are.” He sighed.

“...Yeah.” Robin softened immediately. Then–

her eyes lit up.

“Oh.” Steve narrowed his.

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“WSQK.” He blinked.

“What about it?” Robin nodded excitedly.

“We do dedications.” Steve stared.

“That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.” Robin gasped.

“It’s romantic.”

“It’s public.”

“You don’t actually confess- you dedicate a song.” Steve stared at her. Robin grinned.

“Come on. Pick one.”

It should’ve been easy. There were thousands of songs. Thousands.

And Steve hated all of them. He sat in the booth after closing surrounded by records. Robin sat cross-legged on the floor.

“Okay.” She held one up.

“Jessie’s Girl.” Steve made a face.

“No.” She grabbed another.

“Head Over Heels.”

“No.” Another

“Every Breath You Take.”

“Robin.” She checked the back.

“... Actually that one’s creepy.” She tossed it. Steve dropped his head onto the counter.

“She’s trying to distance herself.” Robin looked up. Steve sighed.

“She keeps disappearing.” Robin got quieter.

“She says she’s tired.” Steve looked at the tapes.

“But she’s not.” Robin didn’t answer. Which was answer enough.

After a minute she said—

“She loves us.” Steve nodded.

“I know.” Robin twisted a pencil in her fingers.

“She just doesn’t know how to say she needs space.” Steve looked over. Robin shrugged.

“People think boundaries mean rejection.” Steve frowned.

“She thinks she’s hurting people.” Robin nodded. Steve stared at the wall.

Then quietly–

“... I don’t want to be another person asking for something.” Robin looked at him. For once she didn’t joke. She just aked–

“So why the song?” Steve laughed softly.

“Because maybe if she hears it and hates it, I don’t have to watch her say no.” Robin looked at him for a long second. Then she smiled.

Small.

“You idiot.”

Saturday night. WSQK played quietly through the apartment. Robin was cooking.

Nancy was studying. You sat at the table pretending to read. The night radio host laughed.

“And next up– we’ve got a dedication.” Robin froze. Steve.

That idiot. The host read:

“This one goes out to somebody who’s probably overwhelmed by people asking things from her lately.” Your head lifted. Robin stared at the stove.

The host continued:

“They said there isn’t really a song that says exactly what they mean. So… this one isn’t perfect.” Nancy slowly looked at Robin. Robin looked innocent.

Too innocent. The host laughed.

“They wanted me to say–” you stopped breathing.

“-- you don’t owe people all of yourself to be loved.” Silence. Then–

Just Like Heaven. Not some giant love song. Not dramatic.

Not even romantic. Just soft. Warm.

About staying. About waiting. About being there.

No pressure. No promises. Just:

I’m here. Robin looked at you carefully. Nancy looked confused.

You stared at the radio. And suddenly– you understood.

It wasn’t a confession. Not really. Steve wasn’t asking.

He wasn’t pushing. He wasn’t demanding closeness. He was telling you–

I see you. And I’ll still be here. Your eyes burned.

Which was ridiculous. Because it was just a stupid radio dedication.

You found Steve the next morning opening WSQK. He looked up. Immediately panicked.

“Hi.” You leaned against the counter. He looked terrified.

You crossed your arms.

“... you couldn’t find a song?’ He blinked.

“What?” You looked away.

“That’s what the host said.” Steeve looked embarrassed.

“Oh.” You waited. He rubbed his neck.

“Nothing fit.” Your throat tightened. Steve looked at the floor.

Then said quietly–

“I don’t want you to think I expect anything.” You looked at him. He swallowed.

“I know you’ve been trying to breathe.” You stared. He continued–

“And I know everybody wants your time and your attention and–” he laughed once.

“And I just” his voice softened.

“I don’t want to make it harder.” Your chest hurt. Steve looked nervous. Then smiled.

Small.

“I just wanted you to know somebody can care about you without needing something back.” Your eyes burned again. You looked away.

Then stepped forward. And hugged him. Just once.

Your choice. Your timing. Steve froze.

Then carefully hugged back. Not too tight. Not too long.

When you pulled away he smiled.

“Does this mean I’m not losing?” You looked at him. Then smiled a little.

And said–

“I think maybe you stopped trying to win.” Steve blinked. You shrugged.

“And somehow that worked.” He stared. Then immediately ruined the moment.

“So does this mean I’m allowed to dedicate another song?” You groaned.

“Absolutely not.” His grin widened. Robin burst out from behind the shelves.

Y/N starts her grueling first day as the choir teacher at Hawkins Middle School . She is horrified to discover her handsome one-night stand, Steve Harrington, is actually the baseball coach and her new coworker.

You pounced on him the moment you stepped into his small one-story after a night at the bar. His mouth was catching yours as soon as the car door slammed, hands grabbing everything. You laughed into the kiss, he moaned in response.

By the time you get to his room, your clothes strewn everywhere leading up to it, your bra catching the thermostat.

He’s laying flat on your bed, legs spread for you to crawl upon. You hover over him, your mouth dragging up his chest, meeting your mouth. His hands grabbing your hair, slightly pulling when you hit his sweet spot.

You grind up against his hard on. That pulls a moan deep from his throat and his hands move from your hair to your waist.

“Feels good, babygirl?”

You moan in response. “Ohhh.. please.”

He grunts in agreement, bucking his hips up.

“Need more?” sneaking his face into your neck. “Speak.”

Your pussy clenches around the air, enough for him to notice the difference. You whimper.

“Use your words.”

Your hips are lazily moving on his, tipsy on his cock.

“Fuck. I need- I need more, yes.” Begging for his dick and kiss his beautiful mouth. He kisses you back.

His hand slides to your jaw. His palm cups your cheek and caresses your cheekbone.

He waits for you to open your eyes. Your red lips. Your cheeks pink.

He observes your beautiful face, especially your lips.

You blink up at him.

He moans and shoves his thumb in your mouth. A whimper leaves your mouth.

You nod, wanting more. Lust fills your eyes, almost making him cum.

The blush intensifies. All you want is more.

You whine when he pulls out and he chuckles under his breath. He yanks his boxers off.

“Mmhm– don’t be a tease,” you release. Steve ignores you and rubs his cock up and down your slick, focusing on your clit.

You scream out. His huge cock stretching your walls, overwhelming your senses. You can feel him in your chest.

“Ohhhh… God,” you scream.

“Yes, babygirl, so good for me,” he groans. Your mouth takes his fingers again, drool spilling onto your tits. “Desperate for my cock, huh? Stuffed full in your mouth and wet hole,”

You can only moan. He keeps fucking into you, your release building.

“Cum for me babygirl. Come on.” He somehow manages to go faster, deeper. “Cum while my fingers fuck your mouth.”

Steve feels your legs shake, your pussy sucking you in, squirt hitting his soft abdomen.

He lays beside you. You fall asleep

Next Morning-

“Fuck, I’m late!!!!!!” You scream, shooting up. Realizing you’re naked you grab the nearest shirt and find your skirt in the hallway.

Steve groans, waving goodbye, knowing he snuck his number in your purse last night.

You speed to your house, flying in to get ready. You cannot be late on your first day of a new job.

You throw open your closet and find a baby blue button up, a navy pencil skirt, and a striped cardigan to throw over, being that it’s March in Indiana.

You came from a previously rich family and went to school in South Carolina. When they died, they left you enough money to not have to work. You are passionate about music and don’t want to live without it, so a job at the middle school was perfect.

You walk through the doors of the school, artwork decorating the hallways. Paintings of ladybugs, dumptrucks, and teddy bears.

The Principal directs you to your room you decorated over the summer. Painted a muted pink, framed antique sheet music scattered on the walls, the risers have flowers tangled between the bars. A welcoming room for middle schoolers.

Your first student walks in accompanied by his father.

“Do you like lizards?”

Who you learn to be Evan Quincy, a fifth grader, asks running over to put his backpack in the cubbys, finding his number 30.

The first day consisting of finding people’s voice parts, learning fun warm ups, and meeting your students.

Assigning section leaders was the most difficult but soon you settle on Elsie and Rose running the Sopranos, Willadean and Clara covering the altos, Declan charging the tenors, and Fielder and Ray covering the back with the basses. And that was just 2nd period.

Before you know it the bell rings. At Hawkins Middle, the fifth graders have gym 3rd period every day, and the coach comes to get them.

You are mortified. Horrified. Terrified. Looking at your door, is the man who saw every inch of your body last night.

“Oh, Hi, Mr?”

“Harrington. I didn’t know you worked here.”

“Me either. Don’t want to keep you waiting.”

“We should catch up. Lunch?”

Your students collectively “ooooh” in the background.

You watch as they all leave and try to keep composure as your 7th graders trickle in.

7th graders explain they have leaders. You interview them to make sure they are up to your standard. They all are amazing. You pass out the piece The Road Not Taken, surprisingly for the first day, it is going well.

The day flies by and you spend some time after school grading ice breakers, looking through the music library the past teacher left you, and straightening up the classroom.

Steve walks in.

You drop the stack of music you had pulled out for the advanced class. You gasp, scared.

“Sorry I startled you.”

“It’s all good. Maybe a sign not to use this piece.”

“I’m sure it’s beautiful.”

“It is.”

“Uh huh.”

You’re quiet around most people. But you feel you can talk to Steve. About music. About baseball. About random movies that you want to see.

You breathe for a second. Stop shrinking and pick up the stack of music.

He sits on the risers and is surrounded by piles of music from you reorganizing.

“How do you walk in here?’

“Ha. Not very well.” Exhausted from your first day.

He hands out a coffee, somehow the way you make it. “Oh my God, how’d you know? Caffeine is so sexy.”

“Wanna grab dinner tonight?”

You and Steve have a nice moment after the crazy slows down.

The Harrington house always felt different after everyone left. Maybe it was the silence. Maybe it was the way the walls stopped echoing with Dustin’s endless talking or Robin’s dramatic complaints. Maybe it was because the giant house suddenly felt less like a fathering place and more like a home.

Whatever it was, Y/N noticed it immediately. The front door slammed upstairs. Then came the distant sound of a car engine.

Then another. And another. Until there was nothing.

Just quiet. Steve leaned back against the basement couch and let out a long sigh.

“Finally.” Y/N laughed from her spot beside him.

“Love your friends, do you?”

“I do,” Steve said. “I just also love when they leave.” She nudged his shoulder with hers.

“That’s terrible.”

“It’s honest.” The movie still played on the television, but neither of them had been paying attention for the last twenty minutes. The bowl of popcorn sat abandoned on the coffee table.

Half-finished sodas rested nearby. Outside, rain tapped gently against the basement windows. It was late.

Comfortably late. The kind of late where nobody expected anything from you anymore. Steve stretched his legs out in front of him.

“Want me to put on something else?” Y/N glanced at the screen.

“I don’t even know what’s happening anymore.”

“Neither do I.”

“You picked the movie.”

“I picked it because the cover looked cool.” She laughed. Steve grinned immediately.

He always felt successful whenever he made her laugh. Even after everything they’d survived together, some things never changed. Monsters.

Alternate dimensions. Near-death experiences. And Steve Harrington still feeling ridiculously happy whenever Y/N smiled.

He grabbed the remote and switched off the television. Instantly the room became darker. Softer.

The only light came from a small lamp in the corner. For a moment neither of them spoke. The silence wasn’t awkward.

Not anymore. There had been a time when Steve felt the need to fill every pause. Now he could sit beside her for hours and never feel uncomfortable.

The rain continued outside. Y/N tucked her legs underneath herself.

“You know,” she said quietly, “I think this is my favorite part.” Steve looked over.

“The movie?”

“No.”

“The popcorn?”

“No.”

“My excellent company?” She rolled her eyes.

“After.”

“After?”

“When everyone leaves.” Something warm settled in Steve’s chest.

“Yeah?” She nodded.

“It’s peaceful.” Steve stared at her for a second longer than necessary. Peaceful. That wasn’t a word either of them got to use very often.

Not after the last few years. Not after all the fear and chaos and fighting. But tonight? Tonight felt peaceful.

Steve looked down at his hands.

“I think I like it too.” Y/N smiled. A small smile.

The kind she only showed when she was completely relaxed. Steve’s heart did an embarrassing little flip. He hoped she’d never figure out how much power she had over him.

The rain grew heavier. Thunder rumbled somewhere far away. Y/N shivered slightly.

Without a word, he reached behind him and grabbed the old blanket draped over the couch. He tossed it toward her. She caught it.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” A few seconds passed. Then she lifted one side of the blanket.

“Come here.” Steve blinked.

“What?”

“You gave me the blanket.”

“Yeah.”

“So now you have to share it.” He laughed softly.

“That’s definitely not how that works.” Steve pretended to consider it. then he shifted closer.

The blanket settled over both of them. Warm. Comfortable.

Neither of them mentioned it. The couch suddenly felt much smaller than it had four minutes ago. Y/N leaned her head against his shoulder.

Steve nearly forgot how breathing worked. Not because it was unusual. Not exactly.

But because every single time she trusted him enough to do something like that, it still felt important. Still felt like a gift. He rested his head lightly against hers.

Outside, rain hammered against the windows. Inside, everything felt still. Safe. Steve realized he couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt this calm.

No emergencies. No monsters. No responsibilities.

Just Y/N. Beside him. Exactly where she belonged.

A comfortable silence stretched between them. Eventually Y/N spoke.

“Can I tell you something?”

“Always.” She hesitated. Steve immediately turned serious.

“What is it?” Y/N smiled softly.

“Nothing bad.”

“Okay.” She looked down at her hands.

“Something I forget that things are okay.” Steve listened.

“Like… everything that happened.” Her voice was quiet.

“We spent so long waiting for something terrible to happen.” Steve nodded. He understood.

Maybe better than anyone. There were nights he still woke up expecting danger. Moments when a strange noise made his stomach drop.

Y/N took a breath.

“But nights like this help.” Steve looked at her.

“yeah?” She nodded.

“They remind me that we’re still here.” The words hit harder than she probably intended. We’re still here.

Simple. True. Important.

Steve swallowed.

“Hey.” She looked up.

“We made it.” Y/N’s eyes softened.

“Yeah.”

“We actually made it.” A small laugh escaped her.

“When you say it like that, it sounds surprising.”

“It is surprising.” She laughed again. Steve smiled.

“There were definitely moments I thought we were doomed.”

“Only moments?”

“Okay. Most of the time.” Y/N shook her head.

“You’re ridiculous.”

“I know.” Another comfortable silence settled between them. The kind that felt full rather than empty.

The rain continued. The house remained quiet.

Steve found himself watching the way the lamp light reflected in her eyes. The way she smiled when she thought nobody was looking. The way she fit perfectly against his side.

For years Steve had thought love was supposed to be dramatic. Big gestures. Fireworks.

But sitting here now, he realized maybe love looked more like this. A blanket. A rainy night.

Feeling completely at ease with someone. Y/N yawned. Steve laughed softly.

“Tired?”

“A little.”

“You can sleep.”

“I don’t want to.”

“Why?” She smiled.

“Because then the night ends.” Something about that made his chest ache. Not painfully.

Just enough to remind him how much she mattered. Steve reached over and intertwined his fingers with hers. Carefully.

Giving her every chance to pull away. She didn’t. Instead, her hand squeezed his.

A simple gesture. But it said everything. Steve looked down at their joined hands.

Then at her.

“Hey.”

“Yeah?”

“I’m glad you stayed.” Y/N’s smile immediately softened.

“I’m glad everyone left.” Steve laughed.

“See? Now you’re getting it.” She rolled her eyes. But she was smiling.

And Steve thought he could probably sit here forever. Listening to the rain. Holding her hand.

Watching the clock drift toward midnight. The future could wait. Tomorrow could wait.

For once, neither of them needed saving. Neither of them needed to be brave. They could just exist.

Based on the Ellie Goulding Song

Description: You're being attacked by a demogorgon and Steve would do anything for you to be safe, even if you aren't dating.

Warnings: (friends with benefits, protective!steve, hurt/comfort, anxiety, past abusive relationships, mentions of sex)

Song recs: Love Me Like You Do- Ellie Goulding

The first thing you notice is the silence. Not normal silence-- not the kind that settles over Hawkins late at night when everyone's asleep and the world feels still. The silence is wrong. Heavy. Like the air itself is holding its breath. You stop walking

"Steve?" Your voice comes out smaller than you mean it to. Behind you, there's a faint crunch of gravel as he catches up. "Yeah, I'm here." You turn, relief flickering briefly in your chest. Steve looks... tense. More than usual. His bat-- that bat-- is already in his hand, nails glinting faintly under the dim streetlight.

"You feel that too, right?" You ask.

"Yeah," he says immediately. No jokes. No brushing it off. His eyes are scanning everythng-- the trees, the road, the shadows stretching too long across the pavement. "Stay close to me." You almost laugh. Stay close to me.

Like you don't always. Like you haven't been orbiting each other for months now-- somewhere between friends and something else neither of you have been brave enough to define. Friends don't memorize the way someone breathes when they fall asleep next to you.

Friends don't know exactly how to calm you down when your chest tightens and the past comes rushing back. Friends don't kiss like it means something-- and then pretend it doesn't. Friends don't touch each other because it's been dry the last few months.

But you nod anyway and step closer. Because something is wrong. And Steve being serious? That makes it worse.

It happens too fast. There's a sound-- a wet, tearing screech that doesn't belong in this world-- and then something moves in the trees.

You don't even fully process it before Steve shoves you behind him.

"RUN." You don't argue. You run.

Branches whip at your arms as you sprint off the road, heart slamming violently against your ribs. Behind you, there's a crash-- Steve yelling-- something snarling. You risk a glance back. And immediately wish you hadn't.

The demogorgon bursts out of the trees like something dragged out of a nightmare-- tall, twisted, its face opening in a horrible, petaled split. Too many teeth.

"STEVE--"

"I'M RIGHT HERE, KEEP GOING!" You stumble over a root, catching yourself just barely before hitting the ground. Your breathing is already going ragged, panic clawing up your throat. You've been here before. Not with monsters-- but with fear like this. The kind that locks your lungs, that makes your body forget to function.

Not now. Not now, not now-- there's a scream behind you-- not yours.

Steve's. You spin around. He's on the ground, the demogorgon lunging toward him.

"No!" You don't think. You grab the nearest thing-- a broken branch-- and swing.

It connects. Barely. Enough to distract it. Its head snaps toward you. And suddenly, you're the target.

Everything slows. You can hear your own heartbeat. Feel every breath like it's ripping through your chest. The demogorgon tilts its head-- almost curious-- and then it lunges.

Your lungs lock. Your vision tunnels. The past crashes in all at once-- hands gripping too tight, voices raised, him hitting you, your mom fighting back, the feeling of being trapped, powerless- you can't move. You can't breathe.

You can't--

"HEY!" Steve's voice cuts through everything. The demogorgon jerks as the bat slams into its side.

Hard. Again. Again.

"GET AWAY FROM HER!" He's yelling-- furious, terrified, desperate in a way you've never heard before. The creature turns on him, screeching.

And Steve doesn't back down. Not even a little.

"Move," he pants, not taking his eyes off it. "You need to move, okay? Get out of here."

You try. Your legs won't cooperate.

"I-- I can't--" Your voice breaks. His eyes flick to you-- and something in his expression shifts instantly.

Fear. Not for himself. For you.

"Hey. Hey, look at me." The demogorgon circles, low and threatening, but Steve steps sideways-- putting himself fully between you and it.

"Breathe, okay? Just breathe with me."

"I can't--"

"Yes, you can," he says firmly. Not harsh. Grounding. "You've done this before. You're okay. I've got you." Your hands are shaking violently. Your chest feels like it's collapsing in on itself.

"I've got you," he repeats. The words hit differently this time. Because he means them. He always does.

The demogorgon lunges again. Steve reacts instantly, swinging the bat with everything he has. It connects with a sickening crack, knocking the creature sideways.

"NOW!" He shouts. Something in you snaps back into place. You grab his arm, pulling him with you as you run.

This time, he does argue.

You don't stop until your legs give out. You collapse behind an abandoned structure, lungs burning, vision spinning.

Steve's right behind you, dropping to his knees.

"Hey-- hey-- are you hurt?" You shake your head, but the movement makes everything worse. Your breathing is still uneven, shallow.

"I can't--" you whisper. "I can't breathe--" he's closer immediately.

"Okay. That's okay. I've got you." His hands hover for a second-- like he's asking permission-- before gently resting on your shoulders.

"Look at me." You do. Barely.

"Breathe in," he says, demonstrating. "Slow. Come on." You try to match him. It doesn't work at first.

Your chest stutters, your breath catching.

"I'm here," he says again, softer now. "You're safe. It's not-- this isn't your dad. This is now. You're with me." That hits harder than anything else. You nod weakly.

Try again. In. Out.

In. Out. Gradually, painfully, your breathing starts to even out.

Tears slip down your face without you noticing. Steve wipes one away without thinking.

"I thought--" your voice shakes. "I thought it was going to--"

"I know." His voice is quiet.

"I know." You swallow hard. "You shouldn't have-- you could've gotten hurt."

"I don't care." It's immediate. Firm.

You blink at him.

"I don't care," he repeats, softer but no less certain. "I'm not letting anything happen to you. Ever." Your chest tightens again-- but not from panic this time.

"Steve..." he runs a hand through his hair, clearly frustrated.

"I mean it," he says. "I know you think I'm just--" he gestures vaguely," -- messing around all the time, or that this is just... sex-- but it's not. Not for me." Your heart stutters.

"What doyou mean?" He laughs.

"I mean I'm an idiot," he says. "A complete idiot who thought keeping things casual would be easier. That I would mess it up if we didn't call it anything." He looks at you then.

"But then you're out there," he continues, voice tightening, "and I think I'm going to lose you-- and suddenly that doesn't matter anymore." Your throat goes dry.

"Steve..."

"I care about you," he sayd. "A lot more than I've been pretending to." You don't know what to say. Because part of you has been waiting for this. And part of you is terrified of it.

"People always say that," you whisper. "At first." His expression hardens slightly-- not at you, but at something else.

"Yeah," he says quietly. "I figured." You look away.

"I just.. I don't want to be stupid again," you admit. "I don't want to believe in someone and then--"

"Hey." He gently lifts your chin back toward him.

"I'm not him." You flinch-- just slightly. But he notices.

Of course he does. His hand drops immediately, giving you space.

"Sorry," he murmurs.

"No, it's-- it's okay," you say quickly. "I just-- sometimes I--"

"I know," he says. And the thing is... he does.

He's seen it before. The way you tense at sudden movements. The way your breathing changes when voices get too loud. The way you pull away sometimes, like you're bracing for something that isn't here anymore.

"I'm not going to hurt you," he says quietly. You believe him. That's the scary part.

There's a distant screech. Both of you freeze.

"Shit," Steve mutters. You're not safe yet. He stands, offering you his hand.

This time, you take it without hesitation.

You don't let go. Not while you move.

Not when the sounds echo too close. Not even when you finally reach somewhere safer-- somewhere with walls and a door and a moment to breathe. Your hand is still in his.

And neither of you points it out.

Later, when everything is quiet again- when the adrenaline fades and exhaustion settles in-- you find yourself sitting beside him on the floor. Your shoulder brushes his. Neither of you moves away.

"... you really mean it?" You ask softly. He doesn't hesitate.

"Yeah." You look down at your intertwined fingers.

"... Okay." It's small. But it's everything.

Steve exhales slowly, like he's been holding that breath for a long time.

"Okay," he echoes. You lean into him. Just slightly.

(Steve Harrington x F! Reader)

Summary: You go into the video store and fall in love with one of the new handsome workers. You have to make him fall in love with you (of course) so you do what any sane person would do and come in everyday.

Word count: 3,975 words

Warnings: Stalker reader. Mentions of sex, wet panties? Reader is lowkey obsessed with Steve, she's weird, creepy. Cause girls can be pervs too. Hopelessly in love with Steve. Also she's lowkey delusional... umm Steve is an idiot. Idk lmk if i'm missing something.

— — — — — —

It was a normal day when you walked into the video store. You weren’t expecting anything, just wanted to grab another shitty comedy movie to make yourself feel better about your sad depressing life. At least you could admit to yourself that your life was boring. 

However, it felt like your world shifted when you spotted a new, handsome face. You later learned that this brown eyed boy’s name was Steve Harrington (wow). 

A strange feeling that you couldn’t quite describe grew in your underwear every time you thought of this stranger from the video store. You wanted to know him. You wanted him to know you. You wanted to fuck him. 

steveharringtonxhenderson!reader

Tags: fluff, implided smut, steve has great hair, slight angst, soft!steve

a/n: hiiiiiiii, its been a minute but i just finished this up. just as a btw me and AB worked on the ending so she gets some credit :)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~