Just for Christmas Eve (Steve Harrington x OC)
Summary: After being put in a tight corner by your family, you find yourself lying about your current relationship status, assuring them that your boyfriend will be making an appearance at the annual Christmas Eve party. After a panicked search for a last minute fake-boyfriend, you have to rely on your younger brother’s cute new friend to help you out of your tight spot.
Pairing: Steve Harrington x Henderson!Reader
Word Count: 4,716
Author’s Note: Wow. I started out just wanting to write something fun and silly and holiday-y, but then I found myself just writing and writing and writing. I hope you love this somewhat cliche but definitely cute story.
“So, Y/N,” your aunt started. You held your breath, and you already knew where this was going. It was the same every year. The Friday before Christmas, your grandmother and your mom’s sisters and their daughters would roll in for the Annual Christmas Cookie Baking Day. When you were younger, you had loved every part of it. Eight women, all bustling around the kitchen, doing different jobs for different cookies. As the second youngest (and you being who you were) you had always been in charge of the thumbprint cookies because it was something you couldn’t mess up and therefore couldn’t freak out over. Plus, it kept you out of the older girls’ hair. Now that you were, you had graduated to being the official cookie finisher, charged with decorating any and all cooled cookies. Yet, while each year you were allowed to help more and more, every year, your family pestered you more and more about what you were doing in life. More specifically, your love life. “Any new boys we should know about?” your Aunt Veronica raised her eyebrows, her hands busy mixing the chocolate chip cookie dough.
Of course there weren’t. You had been busy busting your ass day in and day out, working to get a full ride to college. But sure, ask about the least successful aspect of your life.
You opened your mouth to say as much, when your cousin snorted. She, like you, was decorating gingerbread men. “You know she doesn’t. Y/N doesn’t have time for relationships,” she teased.
“No, no,” your Aunt Patricia’s daughter, Sarah jumped in. “That was two years ago, Rebecca. Y/N doesn’t have a boyfriend because she’s just focusing on herself. Being independent.” The two girls laughed, and you rolled your eyes dramatically.
Aunt Patricia wrapped a sympathetic arm around your shoulder. “You just haven’t met the right person yet,” she soothed. “You will.” She kissed the side of your head and moved across the kitchen to start the next batch of sugar cookies.
To some extent, you understood your family’s preoccupation with your relationship status. Your mother had cracked slightly after your father died, and it was the main reason that the Annual Christmas Cookie Baking Day had been founded. It was also the reason why the rest of your extended family trooped over to your little house to have a Christmas Eve party every year. Your aunts just didn’t want you to end up lonely like her. They didn’t have a lot of faith in Dustin keeping you company for the rest of your life.
So, every year, your family checked in to see if you were still single.
And every year, when you confirmed that you were, they gave you a hard time about it and inevitably ended up giving you a list of eligible men from their various parts of Indiana. Once, your aunt had even dragged along a neighbor boy to the Christmas Eve party and forced you two to spend time together.
It had been uncomfortable as hell.
“You know,” Aunt Veronica began. “Jerry’s single now. He’s smart like you, and very cute.”
“My ex-boyfriend, Jerry?” your cousin, Rachel asked her mother with wide eyes. Of course they would try to set you up with your younger cousin’s ex-boyfriend. Of course.
“Oh come on, Rach, you weren’t that into him,” her sister rolled her eyes. “But he’s not Y/N’s type. David Malkins, though, I should give him your number,” she pointed at you. “Or Kyle. His brother. What do you like? Dark or light brown hair?”
“What about Eric Robins, you know the boy who–”
“I have a boyfriend!” you burst out, suddenly. They all turned to face you, looking almost surprised that you were there.
“Really?” Rebecca asked, stopping in the middle of icing a smile on the gingerbread man’s face.
“Yeah. He’s coming to the Christmas party. It was supposed to be a surprise,” you flushed. They all looked at each other as if they were silently deciding who would call you out on your bullshit. Finally, Sarah turned to look at you.
“I can’t wait to meet him.”
“I can’t believe you told them you had a boyfriend,” your brother shook his head at you.
After all of the women had left your house, he’d heard you slam your door and had come to your room to check on you. He was sweet that way when no one was around. It had only taken him a few minutes of pestering you about why you were trying to smother yourself with your pillow before you broke down and told him exactly what had gone down. And Dustin was being very Dustin about the whole situation.
He chuckled. “Yeah, you did.”
You picked up a throw pillow and threw it at his head. He dodged it easily, still giggling.
You threw yourself back down onto your bed, staring up at the ceiling. You had two and a half days to find a boyfriend. No big deal. It wasn’t as if you hadn’t been able to find one at all in the past 18 years of your life or anything. Nah, this would be easy. You totally weren’t freaking out about it.
You were in such deep shit.
“What am I going to do? I can’t tell them he’s suddenly sick or staying with his family. Mom was there too. It’s a miracle she didn’t say anything.”
“She probably just doesn’t want any more of Aunt Patricia’s weird neighbors in her house,” your brother shrugged.
You just groaned in response, wishing your house would swallow you up and spit you out in some alternate dimension where you wouldn’t have to deal with this.
“I’ll help you. It’ll be like a shared quest,” Dustin offered. You turned your head against the pillow, checking to see if he was messing with you.
“Are you serious?”
“Of course!” he exclaimed. “I also don’t want any more weird neighbor boys in our house,” he grinned cheekily. You picked up another pillow and threw it at him.