Steve Harrington x Reader
Note: I just finished S2 of Stranger Things and let’s just say my crush on Steve Harrington got a whole lot bigger.
Word Count: 1961
Soulmate. It was a heavy word. One that tended to determine your entire life. Society had revolved around them since ancient Egypt. Of course, in the year 2017, there were more advanced ways in which they had been worked into everyday life. Most tops with long sleeves had a little window built in for your soulmate tattoo. Every love song on the radio was about them or about finding them. Apps like eHarmony and Match.com were designed to help you find the one who was really meant for you.
Or so said the fates.
According to town record, the name written on your wrist had been used in Hawkins before. Steve Harrington. But the other Steve had graduated high school in 1985
Steve Harrington was very broken up about his breakup with Nancy. As soon as her soulmate tattoo had appeared, she had left him for Jonathan. Not that he blamed her. They were soulmates after all. But it still hurt.
Hanging out with the kids helped. He finally felt like he had a purpose. Like he was a big brother sort of. He wasn’t just some jock with a nail bat anymore. He was the protector of children. Their mentor. And he had the best hair in town.
When Steve’s soulmate tattoo appeared, he had another mission.
“(Y/N) (L/N)? Who’s that?” Dustin asked, sneaking a peak over the teenager’s shoulder.
“Don’t know. Never met her.” he shrugged, trying to pretend he hadn’t spent the past night and a half combing through a phonebook in hopes to find your name. No such luck. “But she’s my soulmate, apparently.”
“Maybe you won’t meet her until college. A bunch of people don’t meet their soulmates until then.” Max shrugged. Steve rested his cheek on his fist, trying not to look to beat up about waiting an undetermined amount of time to meet the one he was meant to fall in love with.
You knew Hawkins wasn’t ordinary. You knew it. But when you heard sounds, or more specifically, music coming from your closet, you were a little more than intrigued. It was the middle of the night. And there was ‘80s synth pop coming from…somewhere in your closet.
So, you got up and took a few steps closer.
What you were not expecting: some Narnia shit to happen.
You came out of the closet on the…other side of the closet, but you were back in your room. Except, the walls were different and there were different posters. And there was a boy sitting in your bed with an old fashioned curly-corded landline in his hand.
“Yeah Dustin, I’m gonna have to call you back…” He hung up the phone and sat there with wide brown eyes for a second or two. You looked him over. He had hair bigger than your future and a face that just about melted you into a puddle.
“Hello, boy in my bedroom.” You kind of waved awkwardly.
“Hello, girl in my closet.” he replied, eyebrows furrowing. “Wait, your bedroom?”
He tilted his head to the side. “No…”
“Yes…” You looked around. “Except it’s painted. And your posters are different. And…you really have a thing for the ‘80s. I mean they were cool and all, but-”
“Were.” He cut you off. “What do you mean ‘were’ cool? Who even-”
“Dude, check a calendar. It’s-” you glanced at the calendar pinned to his door. “1984?”
“Nonononono…” You walked over and flipped through the calendar, but the year didn’t change. You held your head, dizziness sweeping over you.
“Woah, hey, hey,” the boy got up from the bed and took a few tentative steps towards you. “Hey, it’s gonna be okay, okay? I don’t know what’s going on or where you’re from, but-” It was then that he caught sight of your wrist and his heart stopped. “(Y/N) (L/N)?”
“How did you know my-” You caught his gaze, stuck on your arm and grabbed his wrist to take a look for yourself. Sure enough, your name was permanently etched onto his wrist. Your mother’s words rang in your head. Fate finds a way. And sometimes, in this case at least, the way was a time-travelling wormhole in your closet. “Steve Harrington.”
“Yeah,” he nodded, a great big goofy grin spreading across his handsome features. He tried to play it cool, to be cool, but he was too damn excited. “Nice to…meet you and stuff.”
The next afternoon, Steve came through your closet as soon as he got home from school.
“Hey there, girl in my bedroom.”
“Nice to see you, boy in my closet.”
He smirked and walked over to your bed and sat beside you, looking around at how different the space was. The walls were a different color, the furniture was all rearranged, and indeed, there were different posters on your wall. Instead of cologne and hair care products, you had makeup and perfume sitting on your vanity. And where his record player was, you had…nothing.
“How do you listen to music in here?”
“On my phone.” You held up your iPhone. He scrunched up his face and took the phone from you, looking it over.
“This is not a phone.”
“Yeah? Then what is it, Harrington?”
“Not a phone, that’s for sure.”
You sort of laughed at his reaction and then took it back from him, unlocking it with your thumbprint and turned on the front-facing camera on Instagram.
“Woah, you’ve got a camera in there?” He squinted and looked skeptically at the little box in your hand.
“Gotta post my #SoulmateSunday pic.” You adjusted the filter and then leaned a head on Steve’s shoulder. He smiled and then turned to kiss your forehead, resulting in the perfect picture to make all of your friends jealous. As soon as you captioned and posted it, in rolled the congratulatory texts and comments.
“So what do you do for fun in this weird future of yours?” Steve snaked an arm around your waist and you leaned into his warmth. His thumb rubbed circles in your hip.
“We could go see a movie.”
“Are there any arcades still around?”
“Not really. I mean, like besides Chuck E. Cheese and stuff. Not the kind you have.”
“Okay so today we’ll spend the day in- what year is it?”
“Not in Kansas anymore, jeez.” he rubbed his forehead, and then snapped out of it. How far away you two were. How different your worlds were, and yet here he was. In the future. “And then tomorrow, I can show you a real afternoon in 1984. Sound good?”
The two of you went to see a movie and then returned home where you finally introduced your parents to your long-awaited soulmate. They liked Steve and thought he was perfect for you. You agreed.
Then, the next day, Steve took you to the wonderful wacky world of 1984. His hair was even bigger than the first few times you met. Bigger than your future at least. And all of Steve’s friends, and the kids he babysat, were really nice. The curly-haired one, whose name was Dustin, liked to tease Steve about you. You found it endearing.
Steve bought the two of you milkshakes and a basket of fries at this great ‘50s themed diner. You had almost forgotten how much ‘50s nostalgia there was in the ‘80s. But here you were and there was a ton of it.
You curled up to Steve in the booth, tucking your head into the crook of his neck. He chuckled, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you closer. You didn’t know why soulmate science worked, but it did. You felt like Steve was always meant to be here, to love you. Like he was always supposed to be a part of your life.
You and Steve spent every day together doing everything you could think of. Fall faded into winter, and so Steve was helping you bake Christmas cookies…which led to him lifting you onto the counter and making out with you. His lips were soft and adventurous, venturing across your soft skin and kissing every spot he could reach. You tugged gently on his hair, and just as one of his large, warm hands was wandering up your shirt, you heard a voice from your bedroom.
“Woah, future!” Dustin. Steve basically tore his hand away from your bra hooks and helped you off of the kitchen counter faster than you could say Michael Jackson. “Hello? Anyone home? Steve, this looks just like your house!”
“I told you, she moved into my place a few years ago. Dustin, what the hell are you doing here?” Steve had a towel thrown over his shoulder and his hands on his hips. So this was the ‘Mom Mode’ you had heard so much about. A smug grin found a place on your lips as you watched it unfold.
“Okay, you seriously told me you have a time-travelling wormhole in your closet and expected me not to explore it.”
You curled into Steve’s chest, his arm wrapping around you.
“Welcome to the Future, Dustin. Do you want a snack or anything?”
“Give me the most future-y thing you can find.” He said, taking a seat at the table. You ended up getting him some Oreo Churros and a glass of Crystal Pepsi, both of which he was extremely astonished by.
Steve couldn’t help but chuckle a little. He had been this way a few months ago, but now he was used to it. In fact, he was starting to get a bit confused about what belonged in his world and what belonged in yours. Many times, he had brought Pepsi cans with the old labels or you had accidently taken foods with new logos and things to the ‘80s. Luckily, none of it had left his house or car, so it was easy enough to cover your tracks.
“So, (Y/N), I was thinking that maybe for Christmas, we could have dinner at both of our houses. We can have dinner with my family Christmas Eve and then both celebrate Christmas here.”
“You just want to see a 21st Century Christmas in action.” You tilted your head. He pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead.
A few nights later, Christmas Eve, after dinner at Steve’s house and after you had both said goodnight and gone to bed, something came through your closet. It was dark in your room, and you had been asleep until you had heard the noise.
“Babe?” Steve’s voice was quiet, trying not to startle you. “Mind if I sleep here?”
“S’fine.” You mumbled, batting a sleepy hand at your soulmate as he walked closer and climbed beneath the covers. You laid on his chest and tangled your legs with his. “Couldn’t sleep?”
“Ah.” You nodded. Steve had told you about the monsters in his Hawkins. It didn’t sound pretty. You didn’t blame him for being a bit more than afraid of those terrifying things. One of them had eaten Dustin’s cat, after all.
Steve brushed the hair out of your face, his other long arm wrapped around your waist. You exhaled a long breath, basking in his warmth. He was always so warm.
“I never thought my soulmate would be from the ‘80s,” Your words barely escaped your lips, but they made him smile.
He kissed your forehead. “And I never thought my soulmate would be from the future.” He held you in his arms and enjoyed the feeling of you laying on him, your head on his chest listening to his heartbeat as it slowed. “Merry Christmas, (Y/N).”
“Merry Christmas, Steve…”