chapel of love | steve harrington
pairing: steve harrington x fem reader
summary: a wedding disaster has caused you to spiral, but your amazing soon-to-be husband, steve, is there to save the day, or more importantly, you.
tags: one-shot, fluff, steve comforts you, corny!steve, like literally a cornfield. imperfect wedding day, steve saves the day, happy ending
wc: 2.0k
a/n: heavily inspired by that one episode of The Office, iykyk. i just feel like Jim and Steve are like THE boyfriends. first fic on here... #nervous
“Hey. I know you said you wanted to be left alone, but the wedding is supposed to start soon.”
You hear Robin’s voice calling out behind the door. Her voice is clearly filled with nerves, and it makes your heart pang with guilt.
Everything was going great. Today you were getting married. You were going to be Steve Harrington's wife; he was going to be your husband. The weather was perfect, both your families were well-behaved, and you had managed to keep your tears at bay during the whole makeup process. Everything was perfect. That was until the most stupid mistake was made.
You were ready: make-up done, hair styled, dress on, when you forgot your vows on the table of the small room you were getting ready in. Halfway out the door, you realized and rushed back into the room, not waiting for Nancy or Robin to help you with your dress. A couple of steps into the room, and the end of your dress got snagged on a piece of the broken door. An old, vintage wedding venue meant the doors came with some wear and tear. The momentum of your rushed movements tore the delicate fabric.
The moment you heard the sound, you felt a pit in your stomach. Your heart started racing and you felt sick instantly. This feeling only intensified when you caught a glimpse of the damage. It was bad, really bad. The hem of your dress had ripped into an ugly, noticeable shape.
Robin and Nancy rushed over to you immediately and tried their hardest to reassure you. Their persistent soothing only sounded like background noise to you, though. You started to spiral and needed space to calm yourself down.
That's how you ended up in the small dressing room, sitting on a chair, practicing deep breathing exercises as you try not to cry.
When Sixteen Candles came out, you remember feeling bad for Molly Ringwald's sister. Getting your period the day of your wedding? It sounded horrific. All the white you would have to wear, the cramps. Of course, the movie exaggerated her symptoms, but still, you sympathized. Gosh, that would suck.
The moment you heard the rip and saw the state the door had left your dress in, you wished you had gotten your period. It wasn’t even like you expected everything to be perfect. It seemed like weddings always had to have one thing go wrong. But why did it have to be your dress?
An uncle getting too drunk? You could work with that. The wedding band playing the wrong song? You and Steve would look back and laugh. Hell, you would've taken the caterers dropping the cake on the floor over your dress getting torn. Anything would have been better than your dress being ruined.
This was not supposed to happen. The dress was supposed to be the one thing you could control. You had spent months saving to get it custom-made. Something that incorporates your mom's old wedding dress. You had dreams of keeping it as a kind of family heirloom, passing it down to your future daughter someday.
“Should I get Steve?” Nancy’s soft and calm voice coaxes you out of your current state. Before you could will yourself to give a proper response, Robin is already cutting in.
“You know what, I’m getting Steve.” Robin calls out, clearly panicked. You go to protest, but before you can even find your voice, you hear retreating footsteps. Instead, you just let out a sigh. Part of you felt guilty. Maybe you were being dramatic, but there was a genuine sick feeling building in your stomach that was just too pervasive to ignore.
Honestly, you have no idea how much time has passed, your mind fully consumed by anxiousness. No amount of those breathing exercises you were doing helped you calm down. You still felt like you were spiraling.
Suddenly, the sound of soft knocking fills the room, and you hear a familiar voice that immediately helps to slightly calm your heartbeat.
“Hey babe, you in there?” Steve sounds nothing but doting and a little tentative. You hum in response, not trusting your voice just yet. “Can you let me in?” He says concerningly, but softness still coats his question.
You walk over to the door and just rest your head against it. “Steve, it’s bad luck to see me in my dress.” You're sure you sound so dramatic, especially with the slight pout forming on your face.
“Since when did we believe in that superstition crap?” Steve chuckles, and it eases some of the tension in your chest.
You gnaw over it for a second, but you concede. You wordlessly unlock the door, and he’s immediately making his way into the room. Back facing you, he delicately shuts the doors. The door closes with a soft click, and Steve locks it, giving the two of you complete privacy.
Steve turns around, and when he comes face to face with you, he stills. His eyes rake up and down your body, completely taking you in. You see his eyes start to water, and he brings a hand to his face, really taking in the image of you.
You can’t say you don't understand how he's feeling. Standing in front of you is your soon-to-be husband, looking absolutely handsome in his wedding tux. Steve’s hair is styled so perfectly, and overall, he is just glowing. You can’t help the tears that spill over. You just feel so lucky to have him in your life.
One glance at your tears, and Steve snaps out of the daze he’s in and instantly moves towards you. His hands reach out to caress your arms up and down. “Hey baby, you okay?” His eyebrows furrow in worry, and his mouth pulls into a frown.
You shake your head no, but you can't bring yourself to explain further. Once you’ve shed one tear, it seems to open floodgates. All the stress since the accident starts pouring out of you. And even though seeing you might be bad luck, you feel so relieved to have Steve here with you. In this moment, you really need his comfort.
Steve’s eyes dart all over your face. He’s trying to understand what is going on in your head. What he needs to do to help you.
“Are you having any doubts?” His voice is small, and your stomach drops.
“No.” Your throat is a little dry from the crying, but you continue, “not at all”.
Relief washes over Steve’s face. He breathes a sigh of relief, but his face goes back to being worried. “Okay, so what's wrong?”
“My dress, it ripped, and now it's all ruined.” Your voice is a bit wobbly.
Steve’s eyebrows shoot up, looking shocked. He was so busy admiring you when he walked in that he didn't even pay attention to the end of your dress. He looks down and lets out a little hum. He crouches down to investigate where your dress had been torn.
“I know you wanted to keep it. We could bring it to the seamstress after the wedding,” Steve reassures. You nod lightly, but tears still silently spill down your cheeks. Once Steve has come back up to his full height, he’s cradling your face in his hands and lightly dabbing your tears away.
He learned the hard way that when you are crying with makeup on, he needs to dab, not wipe, or else you’ll get streaks. So now he uses his thumb to dab away tears and makes sure you won’t have to fix your makeup later.
“I know we can fix it later, but I already know your aunt is going to be judging me.” You frown at him, and Steve just gives you a knowing glance. His aunt was definitely a known gossiper, so he could understand your concern.
Steve really tries to think about this. What can he do to make you feel better? After a few more seconds of him dabbing your tears away, you see his eyes light up. And you already knew right away he had thought of something. Every time Steve had an idea, his whole face would illuminate as if he actually had a lightbulb over his head.
He looks around the room a bit frantically until he spots something on the table. He leaves your side and makes his way over to pick up a pair of scissors.
“Um, what are you doing?”
Before you can even fully press him on what he's thinking, he turns and snips the end of his tie off. Just like that. He even cut it at a weird angle, so now the tie looks slanted.
“Steve! Why would you do that?” you say incredulously, raising a hand to cover your mouth.
“Now my aunt has to judge both of us.” Steve shrugs and makes his way over to you. He once again cradles your face, while sporting a proud little grin. You stare into his eyes that are so earnest and full of love, and you just want to cry all over again.
You take the time to take a mental picture of this moment. Here he is, Steve. Your Steve. Looking at you as if you were his whole world. Somehow, he found a way to turn this disaster into a core memory. One you could tell your children. All six of them, if —and that was a very big if—Steve got his way.
“I can’t wait to be your husband.” Steve moves his hands over to adjust your veil. Once satisfied, he takes your hand into his and kisses your knuckles, placing your same hand over his heart afterwards.
“I can’t wait to be your wife,” you repeat his words, and you swear you can start to feel his heart racing under your palm.
“I really want to kiss you right now.”
“Now that definitely has to be some sort of bad luck,” you say, your voice already beginning to sound lighter.
“Not even a little peck?” Steve pouts a little, and honestly, you think he looks so cute doing it even at his grown age.
“Don’t you want our first kiss of the day to be as husband and wife?” You raise your eyebrow at him. An amused smile brightens your face at the faux-look of hurt Steve is sporting.
“Always the reasonable one, huh?” You let out a laugh, which makes Steve grin from ear to ear.
A knock on the door bursts you two out of the little bubble that Steve and you created. “Hey, lovebirds, is everything alright?” Robin’s voice cuts through the moment. In the background, you can hear Nancy telling her to leave you guys alone.
Steve looks to you, silently asking if you feel better, if you are ready. You nod, gazing at him with fond eyes. He presses one final kiss to your knuckles before dropping your hand. “Yeah Rob, we’re good now,” Steve calls out while opening the door.
At the sight of Steve or, more importantly, his tie, Robin instantly slaps a hand over her mouth. Nancy looks equally shocked.
“Uh, your tie?” Robin questions, but Steve just shrugs her off and makes his way over to the ceremony space.
After some makeup touch-ups with the help of Nancy, you’re finally ready to walk down the aisle. Your bridesmaids are lined up, the flower girls look adorable, and Jonathan has already started snapping pictures.
Everything is playing out perfectly: the band plays the right song, your uncle is not drunk yet, and Steve’s aunt is only mildly judging you two. Your dress wasn't perfect, but it was okay because the man you were marrying was perfect in every way that mattered.
Steve cried when you walked down the aisle, you cried when reading your vows, and Steve finally got to kiss you. He bent you down in a stupidly cliché dip, which made you laugh, your little accident now feeling like a distant memory. All you could think of in that very moment was your husband and how you couldn’t wait to spend your lifetime with him.
