Steve Harrington X Reader - Blog Posts

CIGARETTES & DIOR 1

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with some editing here and beta reading by @raelwrites the loml, my biggest motivator, there, we have a first part to the series!

—enemies steve harrington X reader, follows along with 'weirdo on maple street'

[if anyone wants to be tagged let me know]

 For the general population of Hawkins high school, Steve Harrington was the ultimate wet dream. Relatively tall, relatively kind, relatively handsome. It seems, though, you had somehow missed that memo. To you, Harrington wasn’t a dream. He was, plain and simple, a nightmare.

 It wasn’t like you hated the guy exactly. It was just that everything Steve did seemed to grate your teeth and boil your blood. From his incessant need to constantly preen to his stupid laugh and even stupider hair, it was like he existed solely to torture you.

 Okay, so maaaybe you hated the guy. Just a tiny bit. But in your defence, Steve was also dating Nancy, so you felt it only appropriate to scowl and express distaste because alongside being one of the worst people you’ve had the displeasure of knowing, he also just had to date Nancy Wheeler, your best friend of 4 years.

 And as her long-time best friend, all it took was a glance at your watch to know she would be coming down the hall in the next 10 minutes with Barbara in tow. You three were a package deal. Where one was, the other two were bound to be near-by if not right there.

 Which is why, when you feel a presence stop behind you, you’re already calling out a greeting to the pair, “Hey guys-” you turn to face them after you close your locker, grinning when you realise you were, once again, correct in your assumption of when Nance and Barb would show up. “What’s up?”

 It was Nancy who speaks, drawing your attention with your name, “-, you’re free for the rest of today, right?”

 “Oh, I’m doing great actually, thanks for asking Nance. What about you, Barb?”

 “I’m quite alright today. Though, we do have something we wanted to ask you, if you happen to be free later today that is.”

 “Well, how nice to hear you are thriving, to answer your question I don’t think I have any plans set up for after school. Did you have something in mind?”

 “Okay, okay- guys! Glad to hear you’re doing good-” Nancy interrupts and you chime in with a quick ‘great, actually’ before she moves on. “If you are in fact free, do you want to come with us to a party tonight?”

“Now, was that so hard?” you throw an arm around Nancy’s shoulder, jostling her petite frame. “Also, it’s a Tuesday- literally who hosts a party on a fucking Tuesday?”

 “It’s at St-” Barb clears her throat. “Some guys house. Could be fun.”

 “C’mon, we can pick you up. I’ll even let you have the front seat,” Nancy says and that does sway your choice, because upon Barb getting her license, you three had collectively decided that the passenger seat passenger had sole access to the radio. Consequently, it has always been become a competition between you and Nance as to who would reach the right side first- shotgun privilege long since abandoned in favour of a mad dash to the car.

 “Yeah, yeah alright. Fine, what time do I have to be ready by?”

 “8-ish will work. Gives you enough time to convince your parents and find something to wear.”

 “Convince my parents? Pshh, I’d just tell ‘em I have to go to some guys house at 8-ish on a Tuesday evening- that’s totally enough for them to let me go.” You can’t help but be a little petty. “But it’s fine, Nancy and Barb will be there, how could you say no to them?”

 Nancy nudges you and you giggle, slipping out a ‘I’m kidding’ between giggles. “I already said I’d come, c’mon, when have I ever let you guys down?”

 You almost wanted to let them down.

 The more you paced around your room getting ready, the more you thought about how suspicious the girls were acting. Sure, you didn’t really care who it was or when or where, but even then, you could appreciate having some more information than ‘some guys house’, ‘8-ish’, and ‘could be fun’.

 You quickly spritzed your perfume when a car honked outside of your house and grabbed your jacket as you left your room. Shoes came next, and with a final ‘bye’ to your parents, you were leaving the house.

When you spied Nancy already in the passenger seat, you groaned and jogged over to the back. Despite your jacket, the night was as cold as most November nights were and you weren’t about to stand outside and wait for her to swap seats with you when she hadn’t while waiting for you to join them.

 “So, was front-seat privilege just a ploy to get me to come, then?” you ask, though it wasn’t the first time Nancy bribed you with radio access only to take it away soon after.

 “I never said it would be going to the party, you can sit in front when Barb drops you off home again,”

 You huff and relax into the middle seat. Leave it to Nancy to find some loophole.

 “So, can I finally know where we’re going?”

 “You’ll find out when we get there.” Comes the reply from Barb.

 “How long’s the drive?” you begin to pester.

 “If you want, you can count the minutes.”

 “Who’s gonna be there?”

 “You’ll find out when we get there.”

 You groan. “You’re no fun.”

 “Barbara, pull over.” Nancy suddenly exclaimed. You sit up, shuffling to stare out of the window, but are met with disappointment when one side faces the woods and the other pans out into an unfamiliar neighbourhood. Again, you are left with more questions than answers and slouch into your seat.

 “He just wants to get in your pants,” Barbara scoffs.

 Wait, what?

 “Uh- guys, who’s trying to get into who’s pants?” you lean forward, unbuckling the seatbelt when it tries to pull you back.

 “Steve-” Barbara begins, but you’re already grimacing and voicing your displeasure at just the mention of his name.

 “What? Wait- so we’re going to Steve’s then? And neither of you felt it fit to tell me that? What the fuck?”

 “He invited Nance to his house; his parents aren’t home…” Barbara lists and you gag.

 “Again, might I add- what the fuck?” and now the unfamiliarity makes sense. If Steve Harrington lived around here somewhere, you would’ve found every means possible to avoid being here.

 “Come on, you are not this stupid.” Barbara continues and you hum in agreement. It was probably her that insisted you not be told any of the details in the first place.

 “Tommy H and Carol are gonna be there.” Nancy defends and you can’t help laughing.

 “Tommy and Carol have been having sex since, like, seventh grade- that’s a shit excuse.” You pause. “Wait- Tommy and Carol are gonna be there? Man, what the fuck.”

 “It’ll probably just be, like, a big orgy.” At Barb’s comment, you recoil back into your seat with a grimace, mentally trying to track how long it would take to walk home.

 A glance to the girls in the front has your brows furrowing in confusion. “Uh- why are you stripping?” Nancy throws her jumper at you, and you quickly throw it back. “Put it back on it’s like sub-zero outside, weirdo.”

 “Is that a new bra?” Barbara questions with a face of disbelief. A quick glance tells you yes, despite the girl’s negative reply. You’ve perused through both of their closets enough to recognise that you did not recognise that bra.

 “Jesus, if you wanted to fuck you could’ve found a hook-up. Why’d you have to date Harrington? He’s probably a mediocre fuck, at best, anyway.”

 Your comment has Barb giggling, and she opens the car door before asking, “How would you even know?”

 You smirk, stepping out of the car to join them. “With that hair?” you slam the door shut. “He’s gotta be overcompensating for something.”

 “All I’m saying is, you need to consult your friends before making these sorts of big decisions.” You were gesticulating wildly, needing a way to both warm yourself and release the slurry of emotions churning inside of you. “And, honestly, as a proud Harrington Hater, I feel like my opinion should count for something more than all the others who faun of him, you know? At least I’m unbiased,” you say, even though you were probably just as biased, if not more.

 “-, chill,” Nancy calls back to you.

 “I’m chill!”

 Except, when the double doors in front of you open, you begin to bounce on the balls of your feet. Barbara puts her arm around your shoulders, and you smile.

 “Hello ladies,” Steve greets.

 Your smile drops.

 “Hello-” he grits your name out. There was a half-formed hope in you that it would shatter his teeth as he said it.

 “Your highness,” you mock with a bow. If you’re stuck here, might as well have a little fun. “So, King Steve, what’s on the agenda for tonight? Beheading peasants?” you push past Steve, knocking against the arm he had on his hip.

 “Wow how did you guess?” he answers, monotone voice and straight face. “That’s exactly why I thought to have you come.”

 You grin. “Aw, shucks. You think about me?” with a flourish, you remove your jacket and drape it over the banister. Better to leave it right by the door in case of quick emergency exit.

 Nancy pulls Steve along before he can respond, and you and Barb follow behind the pair. Every so often, you make a comment about the décor to Barb and even though the interior isn’t bad, you would sooner rip off a nail than compliment anything about Harrington.

 When the shrieking began from Carol, you immediately throw out your disdain for the pool, “If anyone so much as thinks about throwing me in, I’ll cut your hair off while you sleep.” Though you probably wouldn’t actually do that, it was enough of a threat that even Nancy threw you a side glance.

 “That’s not even remotely attractive,” you sneer, watching as Steve shotguns one of the beers form the cooler. You sit down in the chair beside Barbara. “How did that-” you nod your head in the direction of Nancy and Steve. “Even happen? They’re like, polar opposites.”

 “Yeah, she’s smart you douche!” Tommy shouts out which gains your attention because Tommy being right was a once in a blue moon occurrence. He followed that statement up by crushing a can against his head and chucking it to the ground. Yeah, once in a blue moon.

 When you look over at Steve and Nancy, you can’t help but groan, “Oh, come one Nance, you’re not seriously gonna shotgun that are you?”

 You were ignored in favour of Steve starting a chant as Nancy pulled open the tab. Tommy and Carol joined in, speeding up and then hollering when Nancy threw the can on the ground, empty.

 “Barb, you wanna try?” Nancy asked, already moving towards the cooler.

 “What? No.” You shook your head along with Barb. “No, I don’t want to. Thanks.”

 Nancy picked up a can and Steve tries to goad Barbara.

 “It’s fun! Just give it a-” Nancy is cut off, though, by yet another soft protest from Barb.

 “Nance, she just said no. cut it out.” You protest, sitting up and preparing to stand if necessary.

 “Just- just give it a shot.” With that, Barb throws a reassuring smile your way and stands to take the can and knife. You watch, tense, form your seated position just behind her as she moved the small blade to puncture the can. Even before the motion was made, you were beginning to stand and when Barb suddenly dropped the can and blade all together in a hiss of pain, you huddled up to her and inspected her hand.

 “Fuckin’ told you it was stupid.” You grumble, glancing from Barb’s hand to her face, trying to gauge how serious the cut is in the dark.

 “Where’s your bathroom?” Barb asked, voice shaky, though Steve quickly stood and provided directions. Past the kitchen and to the left, easy enough to remember.

 “He better have a first aid kit in there,” you mumble, opening the door for Barb before stepping in after her. “How’s the hand? Does it feel swollen at all? Heating up?”

 As you rummage through the cabinets, Barb questions, “Heating up? Is that meant to happen?” she takes a seat on the closed toiled lid, smiling faintly at the sight of you rushing around as much as you could in the enclosed space. “I’m okay, really. It looks worse than it is, I promise.”

 You hum, and then voice an ‘aha!’ when you manage to find both a disinfectant for cuts and some bandages.

 “I’ll only believe you if you let me take care of it-” you start, moving to crouch next to the girl and taking her injured hand in yours. “This’ll sting, probably.” You warn, hovering a disinfectant soaked cloth over the cut before beginning to clean the blood, stopping every so often as Barb flinches.

 After a few minutes of cleaning, you grab the bandages and wrap them around the cut. “Et voila! Cleaned and bandaged. Can’t promise it’s any good, but it’s wrapped.” you tie off the gauze. “C’mon, let’s go find Nance before she goes missing.”

 The both of you exit the bathroom giggling, though it dies the second you spot Nancy on the stairs, wrapped in a towel, with Steve just ahead of her.

 “Nance!” you call out.

 “Nancy,” Barbara joins, “Where are you going?”

 “Nowhere… just, upstairs. To change. I… fell in the pool. Why don’t you go ahead and go home, I’ll just… I’ll get a ride or something.”

 “What the fuck?” you whisper.

 “Nance…” She repeats your names back at you. “This isn’t you.”

 “I’m fine.” And that sounded final. “Just… go ahead and go home, okay?” She turns and hurries up the remaining stairs and you scoff.

 “Fucking hell.” You rest your hands on your hips. “I mean, we can go back to mine? We can make some food and binge the tapes left from last week.” You move to grab your jacket that should be hanging over the banister. It’s not there.

 “Pretty sure one of those fucks took my jacket- hold on.” You quickly move to the stairs, taking two at a time to get upstairs quicker. Barb calls from the entryway,

 “I’ll just be outside.”

 You shout back an agreement before moving down the hallway, knocking on the doors you pass by as loud as you could, knowing that it would be only the party guests in the household. “Hey, shitheads! Where’s my jack- oh.” It lays discarded on a table in the hallway, slightly rumpled but otherwise unharmed.

 You scoop it up, patting the pockets to make sure nothing was missing and hop down the stairs to meet with Barb.

 “Got my jacket.” You open the front door, but Barbara isn’t there. “Barb?” you call out, looking around before moving back inside. “Barb, where’d you go?” you check the poolside, but she isn’t there either. The chairs are undisturbed, and the trees are silent.

“Well, then…” you shrug your jacket on, casting a sweeping glance over the yard but you can’t spot the ginger anywhere. “More food for me then, assholes.”

CIGARETTES & DIOR 𝙸𝙸𝙸

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beta read by my beloved @raelwrites

—enemies (?) steve harrington X reader, follows along with 'the flea and the acrobat' and 'the monster'

[if anyone wants to be tagged let me know]

 when 1983 entered november, there weren’t very many things you expected to occur. some fights perhaps, a date here or there to humour nancy, academic pressure. what you weren’t planning for, and surely not what the rest of the residents of hawkins were planning for, was a funeral.

 sure, you could finally wear that all-black suit at the back of your closet, but it also meant having to acknowledge that something was seriously wrong in hawkins.

 and that’s not mentioning all the fucked-up shit you and your friends had seen.

 “this is where we know for sure it’s been, right?” jonathan said, holding the paper at an angle so that both you and nancy could also see.

 “so, that’s…” nancy points at one of the red crosses.

 “steve’s house.” jonathan nods. “and that’s the woods where they found will’s bike, and that’s my house.” he lists what the other two crosses represent and you can’t help but notice just how close everything was.

 “it’s all so close.” you voice, and jonathan agrees.

 “I mean, it’s all within a mile or something. whatever this thing is, it’s… it’s not traveling far.”

 “well, there’s gotta be like, somewhere it rests, right? if no one else has seen the thing then I mean…” you trail off, though nancy seems to understand what you’re suggesting.

 “you want to go out there.” her tone makes you hopeful that she won’t think your idea stupid.

 “we might not find anything,” jonathan says, though nancy is quick to defend the idea.

 “we found something.” she tilts her head at you, and you grimace when the creature flashes through your mind. “and if we do see it… then what?” you hadn’t thought this far ahead.

 but it seems jonathan had, because after a brief sigh he states, “we kill it.”

 when it became clear that you were all serious, jonathan folded up his makeshift map and stood. quickly moving to follow him when he starts for the parked car nearby you wonder aloud what he’s planning.

 “jonny-boy, wanna fill us in on your plan? ‘kill’ is a very broad idea, you know.” you try to keep your voice down, aware of the still-mourning towns-folk present.

 when jonathan reaches the car, he quickly situates himself in the passenger seat and begins to fiddle with the lock on the glove box.

 “what are you doing?” nancy questions, and you jump slightly having not heard her approach.

 “just give me a second.”

 “we’re looking mighty suspicious, that second better end soon jonny,” you remark, placing a hand on the bonnet to lean on.

 “are you serious?” nancy suddenly asks and you look through the windshield only to see jonathan move a gun from the compartment to his jacket pocket.

 “oh, what the- holy shit. how do you even have that?” you gawk, quickly looking around to make sure no one was close enough to neither see nor hear what was currently happening.

 “what? you want to find that thing and take another photo? yell at it?” jonathan steps out of the car and with the slam of the door, nancy begins to voice her disagreement.

 “this is a terrible idea.”

 “shh, no- nance, this is a fantastic idea. the fuck were we gonna do against some creature from the black lagoon looking weirdo?” while the appearance of a gun in the equation throws you off, you can’t help but realise that it’s necessary for what you all had planned.

 jonathan agrees with you, looking at nancy while adjusting the new additions to his pockets, “it’s the best we’ve got. what? you can tell someone, but they’re not gonna believe you. you know that.” jonathan points at you and says your name, “- knows that.”

 “your mom would.” nancy strikes back, as if the poor woman didn’t have enough going on right now.

 “she’s been through enough.” jonathan voices your sentiment.

 “she deserves to know.” nancy continues to argue.

 you step closer and place a hand on her shoulder, squeezing enough to grab her attention. “we’ll tell her, nance. but right now?” you gesture lightly at the fact that you were in a cemetery.

 “we’ll tell her when this thing is dead.” jonathan finishes, and nancy has no reply.

 “woah! hey- watch where you swing that thing, damn!” you jump out of the way, narrowly avoiding a collision with the side of nancy’s bat.

 “sorry-” she grunts your name, stepping into another swing, “just practising.”

 you skim your fingers along the other wooden accoutrements by the wall only to jump again when an unfortunately familiar voice calls out, “woah, woah, woah! hey, woah, woah…” steve fucking harrington.

 “what are you doing here?” nancy asks, out of breath.

 “what are you doing?” steve claps back. fair, though you think it’s quite obvious either way.

 “nothing.” apart from swinging a baseball bat around like a lunatic, you mean.

 “I hope that’s not meant for me.” oh. you grin.

 “shucks, you figured it out.” you hop closer to the pair, golf club in hand. “it was gonna be a surprise! y’know, the whole maim and murder thing.”

 “what?” nancy slaps your arm and you giggle, posing with the club as if to whack something. “no. oh, no, I was just… thinking about joining softball.” at her attempts to explain you can’t help but laugh briefly, relaxing from your previous position to use the club, now, as a cane.

 steve kicks the golf club and you almost fall. fair play.

 “well, uh… listen I’m really sorry. I mean, even before you threatened me with the baseball bat.” he moves around you two to lean against the car and you laugh at that. it was a little funny, okay? “I panicked and… I mean, I was a total dick.”

 you drop the shovel you were attempting to remove from the wall. “ah! oh fuck, wait- did you just admit that?” when you turn, you’re met with twin faces of annoyance. not that surprising though you quickly pick up the shovel and mutter an apology to nance.

 “did you get in trouble with your parents?” nancy focuses back on steve.

 “totally, but… you know, who cares? screw ‘em. any news about barbara?” when steve asked about barb, you stop fiddling with the tools. nancy must’ve shaken her head because you didn’t hear a response before steve asked, “parents heard from her? or?”

 this time, you turn and see nancy shake her head again. you can feel your hands begin to shake so you stuff them in the pockets of your jacket, which you still had to talk to nancy about.

 “hey, listen. why don’t we, uh, why don’t we catch a movie tonight, you know? just kinda pretend everything’s normal for a few hours. all the right moves is still playing. you know, with your lover boy from risky business?” you snort at that but let them talk, knowing the invite was for nancy only.

 you haven’t been invited to watch a movie since march.

 “yeah, I know.”

 “you know, carol thinks I actually kinda look like him. what do you think?” steve turns his face side to side before bursting into song. “just take those old records off the shelf, I’ll sit and listen to them by myself.” your urge to get a camera increases ten-fold at witnessing steve act a fool for nancy. god, what perfect blackmail material this would make.

 “I just, I… I don’t think I can. I’ve been really busy with this whole funeral thing and… with my brother, it’s been really hard on him.” you can practically hear the soft emotional music that should be playing right now.

 “yeah, sure. sure, yeah, yeah.” and you can’t believe you might actually feel a little sorry for steve.

 “so…”

 to alleviate some of the tension between steve and nancy, you waltz over and drape an arm across steve’s shoulders, reaching up to mess with his hair briefly. “I’ll go with you, hotshot.” though you might cut your arm off later if a scalding shower doesn’t disinfect the harrington off of you, it distracted the pair enough from their conversation for the mood to rise.

 plus, it’s not like steve would actually agree to go with you.

 “yeah?” steve asked, turning his head slightly to look at you. “thought you hated me?”

 “that I do, dweeb, but you guys are so pathetic right now I might start to cry.” you frown exaggeratedly, bringing your free hand up into a fist by your face to indicate crying.

 when he turns back with a raised brow at nancy, you drop both arms and step away.

 when nancy turns to you then to steve and then back to you with a grin, you feel dread begin to build in your stomach.

 “well, I think that’s a great idea. you guys can, you know, bond,” nancy says, and you and steve share a look because while you both can’t stand the other, you both also can’t resist nancy’s puppy dog eyes.

 “so, what time?” steve asks.

 ok, minimise the damage, let him down gently, tell him you were joking.

 “if you got here with your car, we’re going now.”

 abort. abort. abort.

 “cool.”

 “cool.”

 amongst the list of idiotic things you’ve done, stepping into the same car as steve harrington- stepping into steve harrington’s car, has got to be quite high up on there.

 “I will be honest, though, you have a hell of a nice car.” you swipe your hands across the dash. “permission to pilfer?” your hand hovers over the latch to the glove compartment.

 he laughs, “yeah, sure. it’s only mixtapes in there anyway.” at that you quickly fling it open, pulling the contents into your lap.

 “so, what kinds of- oh my god! hah! wait, holy shit- what are you, a disco freak?” you flick through the tapes, taking in the confusingly large amounts of abba. “oh, voulez-vous, neat.” you whisper and pop it in.

 steve glances at you but says nothing of it.

 it took one side of the tape and stop-start humming to reach the theatre.

 “there’s no queue but if I don’t get a break from you, I might actually punch you, so you grab the tickets to whatever-the-fuck, and I’ll get the popcorn.”

 you shoved your shaking hands into your pockets, waiting for the buckets to get filled up. “so-” steve calls your name and you jump, not expecting the teen to be behind you. “I got two for all the right moves.” he grabs one of the buckets the employee set on the counter and exchanges it for one of the tickets. “ready?”

 you grab the other, sigh, and turn to the entrance to the screens. “as I’ll ever be.”

 you groan in relief as you walk out of the double doors to the cinema, half empty popcorn bucket in hand. “that was like, the most boring movie I’ve ever seen. you enjoy that crap? like, nothing happened- it’s just some jock movie.” you thrust a thumb behind you.

 steve laughs alongside you, empty handed having poured the left-over popcorn into your bucket. “I’ll be honest- I’ve only watched it so many times because nancy’s wanted to.” he grabbed a handful of popcorn to munch on.

 “aww, aren’t you just the sweetest boyfriend!” you giggle and flick a piece of corn at him. he fails to swat it, thus entangling in his hair.

 “oi- not the hair!” he shakes his head, but the popcorn piece stays. “is it gone?” you smile and nod.

“I’ll be honest, you do look a bit like tom cruise- hm. maybe if you flattened your hair a little…” when you reach up to touch steve quickly swerved out of the way. “spoilsport.”

 “oh, yeah?” steve confiscates the popcorn bucket and jumps out of the way of your hand, laughing when you trip a little. when you continue to move for the bucket, steve hops away further until the pair of you are running down the sidewalk.

 “steve! st- oi, dweeb!” you pant, hunched over against the nearest wall. “not everyone’s a jock, you know!”

 when steve saunters back to you, popping pieces of corn in his mouth periodically, you straighten up. grab the bucket. run away.

 you run into a pedestrian and drop the bucket. steve lets out an anguished wail. so do you, actually.

 “the popcorn! it was so meticulously curated!” steve drops down next to you, and you gawp at the fact that king steve so readily lowered himself to your level.

 “you will be remembered… dearly.” you mock-wipe away a stray tear before standing up and dusting your legs. thankfully, the stranger had walked off without complaint. “c’mon, I probably have popcorn at home- and better movies.”

 “taking me home already? don’t you move fast.” steve teases, flicking a stay piece of corn at you.

 “don’t get any ideas, harrington. now, where’s your car, again?”

 “you’re only allowed in the car if you don’t laugh at my music the whole way.” steve unlocks the car when you get to it, and you snort as you sit in the passenger seat.

 “stevie- half of your mixtapes are abba, what else am I supposed to do?” you flick through the tapes in his glove box, pulling out one at random and snorting when it turns out to be abba. you glance at steve when he has no rebuttal and double-back at the red face he sports. “uh- steve? you good?”

 the teen nods, hums and starts the car.

 “what, did you find the corn still in your hair?” you tease, picking the piece out and flicking it out of the window.

 “yeah, yeah totally that- hey, listen… I’ll drop you home but I gotta go- gotta pick up tommy and carol soon. uh- popcorn another time.” you slip the abba tape in, determined to ignore what caused steve’s mood to shift so much.

 “I guess chivalry isn’t dead.”

 on saturday you wake to frenzied pounding on your front door. when it escalated from voiceless disturbance to frantic shouts of your name between the knocks, you stumbled out of bed, tossed on a discarded sweater, and journeyed to the front door.

 “did you know?!” is what greets you the second you crack the door open. steve’s panicked voice is followed by the chill november wind so with a grunt you pull him inside.

 “did I know what, harrington?” comes your grumble, resting against the door and wiping the sleep from your eyes.

 “nancy and jonathan.” he elaborates, poorly.

 “what about them?” you yawn.

 “they’re fucking sleeping together.” your mouth snaps shut.

 “ex- cuse me?” well now that can’t be what you heard, right? “did you just- hold on. what the fuck did you just say?”

 “nancy- that- fucking bitch, she’s sleeping with byers,” steve says through gritted teeth, and you can’t help but scoff.

 “and this comes from, where exactly? also- don’t call nance a bitch, what’s wrong with you?”

 “yeah, well I fucking saw that freak cosying up with nancy in her bedroom.” steve’s words pause your feet in their walk to the kitchen.

 “well now that can’t be right.” you resume the short trip to the kitchen and hear steve follow behind you, steps heavy and breaths deep. “eggs or pancakes?”

 “what?”

 “it’s a simple question, harrington. eggs or pancakes?” you start taking bowls out of shelves and utensils from drawers.

 “pancakes?”

 “good choice.” you turn around and point the whisk at him. “if I’m gonna get through this stupid conversation you’re insisting I partake in, I’m making some food.”

 you hear when steve sits down by the slight scrape of the table chair and heavy sigh. you know he’s going to begin talking when the teen clears his throat. “did you know?”

 “no- well, it depends. did I know they were hanging out? yeah, I was there with them half the time. did I know by best friend is now apparently a slut? that’d be a no.” you try to sound as nonchalant as you can. if the both of you start panicking, well, the pancakes definitely won’t be made. “what did you even see?”

 steve groans in his seat at the table, shuffles around a bit, and hits his head against the wall behind him. “byers was practically all over her.” you can hear the disgust in his voice. “it was just- they were… agh- right, hold on.”

 “you sure they weren’t just, I don’t know- talking? friends do that too, you know.”

 when you hear him begin to move you turn, only to practically bash your body against his. “woah- hey now. hot pan behind me, careful.” you move away, laughing a little to ease the sudden discomfort and begin to ladle batter into the pan.

 “ok so-” harrington just moves closer when you step away. “if you picture me as jonathan, you as nance…” steve presses the side of his body against yours, leaning in to whisper in your ear, “would you talk to your friends like this?”

 you freeze.

 “uh-” this can’t be happening. “not usually, no.” you whisper back.

 he moves away. you almost sway to get closer again but catch yourself.

 what the fuck?

 “that’s what I though.” steve scoffs. “bet that’s why she blew me off yesterday. too busy blowing byers to hang out with her boyfriend.” you snort.

 “yeah, alright. well, if you want-” you push a plate of pancakes towards steve. “we can go confront her about it later- eat.” you drop a fork on the plate. “and if she says nothin’, we can go bully jonny for an answer or something.”

 “jonny?” you hear steve whisper.

 “everyone’s gotta have a nickname, dweeb. syrups in the cupboard next to you.”

 “hey! what the fucks happening?!” you shout, running down the alley from which you could hear the, sadly, familiar shouts of nancy and tommy. “hey, hey nance what- what the hell? what- how did this happen?” you pant, wincing whenever you hear a fist connecting with a body.

 “steve said- jonathan, stop! stop! you’re gonna hurt him!” nancy attempts to explain but quickly overlooks it in favour of attempting to move closer, and you quickly grab her by the shoulders to hold her back from the swinging fists, holding tighter when you hear police sirens.

 “guys! jonny, stop! you moron!” you let go of nancy when you’re certain she won’t try to move closer in favour of helping tommy pull jonathan away from steve, which becomes a much harder task than initially suspected when the teen just shrugs you off and tommy redirects to grabbing steve and running away.

 “I got this one!” one of the officers shouts, cuffing a bent over jonathan.

 “jesus, when steve said he had something planned with his friends, I didn’t think it mean this- what the fuck…” you place a hand over your forehead and lean on nancy who looks close to tears. “hey, hey nance. nancy, you’re ok, right?” you question, suddenly worried when she continues to stay silent.

 “yeah, yeah- what… what are you doing here?”

 “didn’t have popcorn at home.” which was true, but it didn’t answer her question. “what are you doing here?” you redirect.

 “tommy said something, then steve said some stuff, christ. I don’t even know how this happened… one minute they were just arguing and the next, well.” you nod.

 “wanna know the worst part about this all?” you ask, guiding nancy out of the alley and to the cop car jonathan was just placed in. “I didn’t even get my popcorn.” this pulls a laugh from nancy, and you beam, glad to have at least cheered her up, however brief it was.

 the ride to the police station is silent. you ache to strike up a conversation but whenever you glance at nancy’s crestfallen expression the words die in your throat.

 when you reach the station, you and nancy are redirected to the nurse. since neither of you actually did anything apart from be at the scene of the incident, neither of you had to speak with the police as of right now.

 as the lady pulls a tray of ice cubes out of the freezer and a towel out of the desk drawer, nancy asks, “do you think we’ll be out of here soon?” probably. or at least, you hope so.

 “you, yes. him, no.” she responds, “he assaulted a police officer.” which is a fair point, and true. however, that police officer did get in the way of a fighting teen, of course he was bound to be hit.

 “well, how long are you gonna keep him?” you question, glancing around at the decorations on the walls.

 “you and her boyfriend have big plans, do you?” the lady asks, straight-faced. you choke on your spit.

 “he’s not my boyfriend.” comes nancy’s reply and you shake your head alongside her.

 “I think you better tell him that.” because that’s gonna go down well with steve.

 at nancy’s confusion, the lady continues. “only love makes you that crazy, sweetheart.” which was a sweet, albeit unneeded, sentiment. “and that damn stupid.” at least that’s true.

 “you’re a- you’re a wise lady, ma’am,” you say before following nancy out of the room.

 jonathan looks about as pathetic as you had left him at the desk and as you round the table you pat his back, resisting the urge to ruffle his hair. the teen just came out of a fight, no point irritating any injuries he might have.

 “found some ice.” nancy sits beside him, lifting the make-shift ice pack she was given to rest against jonathan’s face.

 the tense silence is broken by jonathan, “everything ok?” you don’t bother answering. with how they’re staring at each other, it’s almost as if you don’t exist.

 hm.

 “yeah. everything’s fine.” is the lie nancy settles with because everything was most certainly not fine.

  how is it that steve might actually be right for once?

CIGARETTES & DIOR 𝙸

with some editing here and beta reading by @raelwrites the loml, my biggest motivator, there, we have a first part to the series!;

enemies steve harrington and reader, follows along with 'weirdo on maple street'

[if anyone wants to be tagged let me know]

 objectively, you suppose you could call steve a nice-looking guy. attractive, perhaps. maybe even dateable. subjectively, you know, deep in the very marrow of your bones, steve harrington is probably the worst person you have ever had the displeasure of knowing.

 sure, tommy hagan was a douche and carol perkins was a stuck-up bitch but steve- oh, but king steve ‘the hair’ harrington was so so much worse. and there wasn’t really anything that made you feel this way—not anything you could sensibly give as reasoning anyway. yet the way he strutted about, flocked by his little gang of bullies, like some overgrown peacock just made your blood boil and skin flush with anger.

 which is why, when nancy wheeler strode up to you with barbara in tow, you were not only worried but mentally figuring out where steve would be that during lunch to give him a good bollocking because nancy looked frazzled.

 “nance-” you slammed your locker shut. “lovely to see you.” it wasn’t. you were still half convinced this whole dating steve thing was a ploy to get you two acting civil with each other. never going to happen, sorry nance.

 she started with your name, “-listen,” this should be good. “we were invited to a party...” oh god. “would you be willing to come with us?”

 fuck.

 “how much choice do I have, exactly?” your hunch said not much.

 “please?” called it. “we would really like it if you could come.” damn nancy and your fondness for your friends all to hell.

 you shift, throwing an arm around the ginger beside you, “yeah, alright.” you sigh, “but I’m only going for barb and free booze.” which was only partly a lie, so you didn’t even feel that bad saying it.

 barbara giggles, exclaiming your name with a light shove to your shoulder. “It’s tonight by the way, we’ll pick you up.”

 tonight? “but It’s a tuesday.” who hosts a party on a fucking tuesday? “guys?” you go ignored as the bell rings immediately after, getting drowned out by the noise of scurrying bodies of passing students. nancy and barbara quickly bid their goodbyes and you solemnly schlump your way to next period, walking slower to prepare for an hour of sitting in the same room as steve.

 fucking tuesdays, man.

 the more you thought about it, the more you paced around your room. who’s hosting the party? neither nancy nor barbara would answer you when you asked repeatedly during class, which... definitely suspicious.

no matter, whoever it was and whoever was there, you would be the best dressed in attendance. what’s the point of going out if you can’t look hot whilst doing so?

you quickly spritzed some perfume when someone honked their horn outside your house, the girls had at least told you enough to know that it would be late evening when they came to grab you. you had slipped on your shoes and were prepared to leave before calling out to anyone still in the house.

 it was a cold night, though what november night isn’t. glad for the jacket you grabbed before leaving—even the short jog to the car had managed to leave a slight chill in your bones.

“well don’t you look like a million bucks-” and a call of your name greeted you as you situated yourself in the middle seat, flashing a grin at barbara as you tugged the seatbelt across.

 “why thank you, m’lady. and you both look dazzling, as always.” flattery will get you everywhere. currently, you were hoping that the flattery would get you at least the address for the party, or how many people might be there.

 “you smell like a million bucks too, jesus, just how rich are your parents?” nancy remarked, having turned to face you from the passenger seat.

 “enough that dior is my regular perfume, now-” you clap your hands together and lean forwards over the centre console. “don’t try to distract me, nance, where are we going?” if you were going to get any answers before arrival, you knew the only way was to just pester them enough that you got a reply out of annoyance. “c’moooon! just an itty-bitty name?” resting your elbows on your knees, you clasp your hands together in mock prayer.

 “you’ll find out when we get there.” you get a light shove to your face from nancy and huff a little in your seat. you couldn’t even fiddle with the music, a rule you three had declared at the start of your friendship.

“passenger seat passengers have control of music.” you had declared promptly and firmly when nancy had tried to reach from behind you to change the mix tape.

 “you’re just saying that because you don’t want to listen to madonna.” barbara chimed in from beside you, glancing at you before concentrating back on the road.

 “I’ll listen to madonna plenty if you’ll stop trying to change it to her while I’m enjoying kiss- hey!” you slapped away a giggling nancy’s hand from the radio in time to prevent the song from being changed.

 “you say that-” nancy began, still giggling through your name, “but I know you listen to abba, I’ve seen the tapes!”

 “you’ve seen shit, nance! ignore her, must’ve hit her head on the door.” you remarked, thwarting yet another attempt by the girl at reaching the radio.

 barbara merely laughed at you two, resolved to stay out of the radio debacle.

 though, on the way to the café after school you kept your promise, and the car was filled with four voices singing physical attraction.

 “barbara, pull over.” nancy suddenly exclaimed. to your knowledge, parties were usually held at a house, not in middle of a road. while the girls were busy talking you looked around the neighbourhood, surely something had to be familiar enough to pinpoint a location.

 “he just wants to get in your pants.” barbara scoffed from her seat. wait what?

 “woah-ho, hey… who wants to get in who’s pants?” you unbuckled your seatbelt quickly to shuffle forward, shoulder buckling with the back of nancy’s seat slightly.

 “steve-” barbara began, and suddenly the secrecy made sense.

 you recoil at his name, shouting out a protest, “what? nance, love, we’re going to steve’s?”

 “he invited nance to his house, his parents aren’t home…” barbara began listing, but you had gotten the message loud and clear at the first mention of his name.

 “come on, you are not this stupid.” barbara continued, and you knew now why this street was unfamiliar, if steve had to live somewhere here then you would have found every means possible to avoid even walking on the same pavement as him.

 “tommy h and carol are gonna be there.” nancy rebukes, though it’s kind of a shit reply. those two have been having sex since like seventh grade.

 “tommy and carol have been having sex since, like, seventh grade.” this is why you liked barbara. she even agrees with your thoughts.

 you decided to splay across the back seat while the pair continued talking, knowing whatever they talk about would involve steve, and that’s not a conversation you want to ever willingly partake in. plus, it’s not like you wanted to walk home at night in the cold when you were in a perfectly comfy and warm car.

 “woah woah woah, why is nance stripping?” you sat up, watching in confusion as the girl removed her jumper.

 “is that a new bra?” barbara questioned, face slack in disbelief. despite nancy’s negative reply, it probably was. you had raided both of their closets on multiple occasions for fun enough to recognise that you did not recognise the bra nancy was wearing.

 “jesus, girl. if you wanted to fuck, we could’ve found someone for you, didn’t have to go start dating steve fucking harrington for some mediocre dick.” when your comment went ignored save for a stifled giggle from barb, you left the car to follow the other two with a sigh.

 goddamn steve.

“all I’m saying is, you need to consult your friends when making these sorts of big decisions.” you were gesticulating wildly, needing to find some way to get rid of the slurry of emotions churning inside of you. “and you don’t get to blame this on my totally reasonable dislike of steve either. barb totally agrees with me, right?” you slung your arm over her shoulders, pulling her lightly into your side to stop the full body shaking.

 “barb, chill.” nancy chimed in from your other side, ignoring your comments.

 barbara leaned into you a little more, “I’m chill,” she replied.

 before you could make any further comment on the situation, the double doors in front of you three opened to reveal none other than the king himself.

 steve spares a fleeting confused glance at you before speaking, “hello ladies.” god he looked like an idiot. one hand on the door and the other on his hip, steve grimaced at you, “hello-” he grits your name out. there was a half-formed hope in you that it would shatter his teeth as he said it.

 you take a bow, “your highness,” you mock. if you’re stuck here, might as well have some fun, ey? “so, dweeb, what’s on the agenda for tonight? swapping books?” you push past steve, knocking shoulders as you go.

 “sacrificing virgins to the old gods, should be right up your alley, freak.” steve taunts back, moving out of the way to let nancy and barbara in.

 you twirl around to face steve, tugging your jacket off, “you flatter me, harrington. if anyone here needs to be scared of a virgin sacrifice it’s you.” you toss your jacket over the banister. the closer your stuff is to the door the faster you can high-tail out of steve’s house.

 you followed the others to the back porch of the house, throwing comments out about the décor to barbara. though it might’ve been a nice house, you would never admit that while steve was within earshot. the smug bastard would hold it over you for the next century.

 when the shrieking began from carol, you had immediately thrown out your disdain for the pool, “if anyone so much as attempts to throw me in I’ll cut your hair off while you sleep.” you wouldn’t actually do that… probably. but the others at the party didn’t need to know that.

grabbing a deck chair, you dragged it closer to barb. nancy was completely enamoured by the beast that is harrington and wouldn’t be good company so you sat as close to barbara as you could.

 “that’s not even remotely attractive.” you sneer, watching as steve shotguns one of the beers in the cooler. “how did that even happen? nancy and steve, god.” you weren’t really sure what barbara thought about the couple, having not been able to talk to her without nancy around but you were comforted by the displeased face she held. “if steve hurts a single hair on her head I’m gonna rip his out.” barbara giggled at that, so you smiled. barbara’s laugh could probably cure cancer.

 “yeah, she’s smart you douche!” tommy let out, which gained your attention because tommy being right was a once in a blue moon occurrence. he followed that statement up by crushing a can against his head and chucking it to the ground. like you said, once in a blue moon occurrence.

  “oh, come on nance you’re not seriously gonna shotgun that are you?” you exclaim, waving the hand that wasn’t across barb’s shoulders in the group’s general direction.

 you were ignored in favour of steve starting a chant as nancy pulled open the tab. tommy and carol joined in, speeding up and then hollering when nancy threw the can on the ground, empty. who knew all it took to get nancy wheeler to let loose was the grating voice of steve harrington?

 “barb, you wanna try?” nancy asked, already moving towards the cooler.

 “what? no.” and though you weren’t asked, you shook your head along with barbara. “no, I don’t want to. thanks”

 nancy picked up a can while steve chimed in with his own, unwanted, goading. “it’s fun! just give it a-” nancy was cut off, though, by yet another soft protest from barbara.

 “nance, she said no. cut it out.” you moved to sit up, preparing to stand if necessary.

 “just- just give it a shot.” and with that barb stood up, having taken the can nancy gave her. you watched, tense, from your seated position just behind her as she moved the small blade to puncture the can. even before the motion was made, you were beginning to stand up and when barb suddenly dropped the can and blade all together you huddled up to her, cradling her bleeding hand.

 “fuckin’ told you shitheads…” you grumble, inspecting the cut as best as you could in the low light.

 “where’s your bathroom?” barb asked, voice shaky. to which steve, useful for once, quickly pointed out the directions for both you and barb. past the kitchen and to the left. easy enough to remember.

 “he better have a fucking first aid kit in there-” you quickly opened the door for barb before stepping in after her. “how’s the hand? does it feel swollen? heating up?” you moved to rummage through the cupboards as you question, hoping to find at least a bandage.

 “heating up? is that meant to happen to cuts?” barb sat down on the closed toilet seat, smiling faintly at the sight of you rushing around as much as you could in the enclosed space. “I’m ok, really. it looks worse that it is, I promise.”

 you make a positive noise from inside the cupboard, having found both a disinfectant for cuts and some bandages. “I’ll only believe you if you let me help take care of it-” you start, moving to crouch next to the girl and taking her injured hand in yours. “it’ll sting, probably.” you warn before slowly dragging the cloth dipped in disinfectant across the cut, stopping every so often as barb flinches.

“et voila! one bandaged hand to go.” it took barely 10 minutes to complete, but any spare moment with barb you would take. “let’s go find nance before she gets eaten by harrington.”

 the both of you exit the bathroom laughing, though it dies the second you notice nancy on the stairs, following behind steve and wrapped in a towel.

 “nance,” you called out.

 “nancy,” barbara joins, “where are you going?” she asks once nancy turns to look at you.

 “nowhere… just, upstairs. to change.” because that doesn’t sound suspicious. and sure, she looks like a wet puppy, but you’re reminded instantly of the conversation had in the car. “I… fell in the pool. why don’t you go ahead and go home, I’ll just… I’ll get a ride or something.”

 “what the fuck?” you whisper, yeah super fun party nancy, thanks for the invite. you can’t help but scowl at her.

 “nance…” nancy repeats your names back at you. “this isn’t you.”

 “I’m fine.” that sure sounded like a goodbye. “just… go ahead and go home, okay?” well, how nice.

 nancy turned and walked up the remained stairs, and you scoff at the interaction that just occurred.

goddamn steve.

 “we can head back to mine, I can make us some food and we can marathon some tapes left from last week,” you suggest, moving to grab your jacket you knew you had hung on the banister. it wasn’t there. “fuckers moved my jacket, hold on.” you took the stairs two at a time to quickly get to the second floor when barb called out.

 “I’ll wait outside.”

 making a noise of agreement, you knocked on every door as loud as you could, knowing only the party guests were in the household. “hey shitheads! where’s my jacket?” you bang on a few more doors before stumbling across your jacket on the floor in front of you.

 at this point, you really wanted to leave. so, with a scoop of your jacket and a cursory pat down the pockets to check everything is where it should be, you hop down the stairs giddy at the thought of spending more time with barb.

 “got my jacket!” you called out. you glance around the living room before moving to the back porch only to still not see barbara anywhere. “barb?” you call out again, confused at the sudden vanishing of her presence. did she not want to hang out with you? isn’t that a kick in the heart, huh.

“could’ve fucking said something, at least.” you scoff. that’s another friend to abandon you in one night, not even an hour apart.

you shrug your jacket on while looking around despite there not being a trace of barbara anywhere. with a grimace you turn around to head out, ignoring the rustles of the bushes in front of you, no point in standing around when you had a nice warm bed calling out your name back at home to nap and wallow in.

i love your writing sm!!! i was wondering if you can do a studying with steve one to where he’s struggling with a subject and ur explaining it to him and he’s like not paying attention and just kinda admiring the reader ?? i think it would be so cute thank uu bye!! ❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹

gn!reader. hi thank you for ur request and the compliments <3 it's like tutoring instead of studying

“…there’s three stop codons, and— Steve, are you even listening to me?”

The library’s quiet, a half-hour from closing and it was only you and Steve and a librarian glaring at you for keeping her until they actually kicked you out for the night.

Steve blinks slowly.

“I’m listening,” he tells you, but he wrinkles his nose up and you know he’s lying because Steve Harrington is an awful liar.

“Okay, sure,” you say, rubbing at your tired eyes and taking another sip from your near-empty cup of coffee. “So, as I was saying — three stop codons that indicate the end of translation— Steve!”

Steve’s not really listening. He didn’t care that he was teetering on the edge of an F in biology because he didn’t care about biology either. He didn’t care about college and he didn’t care about what his parents thought about him since he was destined to be a deadbeat anyway.

And then there’s you. Charming, sweet you that only wanted the best for him and, really, how was he supposed to say no when you offered to tutor him?

And you were the total opposite of him. Hot-shot smartypants you set on the path to becoming valedictorian, found in corners with your nose buried in a book or annotating some research article he couldn’t bring himself to be interested in.

You swipe at your nose, thumbing through the pages of the thick biology textbook in front of you.

“I guess it’s not all that important,” you say, seeming a bit affronted by his lack of interest. “The unit’s almost over. You just need to memorize the stop codons and you’re good as gold, okay?”

Steve nods, markedly bored. Maybe it was sort of oddball for him to be jealous of a textbook — it was a textbook, for crying out loud, but it was the object of attention and he, beyond doubt, was not.

And he’s looking at you and he feels like he’s starring in a cheesy rom-com, harboring a secret crush on his tutor, then he’d get good and smart after enough tutoring and you’d disappear because he didn’t need you to help him anymore. It was the worst possible cliché.

The way the light catches on the tip of your nose, eyelashes fluttering as you flip through the chapters, lips pursed but you still managed to look pretty, even with wrinkles creasing your forehead that he would’ve found unflattering had it been anyone else.

Your words are a sort of unintelligible hum and he can’t look away but he doesn’t want to. You with your sweet smile and your perfect hair and soft sweater, good-looking without even trying, and perhaps evilly, without knowing, either.

“…and I think that’s all you really need to know,” you say, standing up and crossing your arms over the book you hold to your chest. “I can bring you a copy of my notes tomorrow. Night, Steve.”

Then he’s facing your back as you slip between bookshelves, a brio to your step despite the late hour and he’s completely and utterly taken with you.

masterlist thank you for reading ♡